CHAPTER XVI.

CHRYSOSTOM’S VISIT TO ASIA—DEPOSITION OF SIX SIMONIACAL

BISHOPS—LEGITIMATE EXTENT OF HIS JURISDICTION—RETURN TO

CONSTANTINOPLE—RUPTURE AND RECONCILIATION WITH SEVERIAN,

BISHOP OF GABALA—CHRYSOSTOM’S INCREASING UNPOPULARITY

WITH THE CLERGY AND WEALTHY LAITY—HIS FRIENDS—OLYMPIAS

THE DEACONESS—FORMATION OF HOSTILE FACTIONS, WHICH INVITE

THE AID OF THEOPHILUS, PATRIARCH OF ALEXANDRIA. A.D. 400,

401.

Up to this point the episcopal career of Chrysostom may be pronounced

eminently successful. He had distinguished himself not only as a

vigorous reformer of ecclesiastical discipline, an eloquent master of

pure Christian doctrine, and preacher of lofty Christian morality,

but he had done good service to the State; and even while he upheld

with inflexible firmness the full rights of the Church, he had not by

overbearing or haughty independence forfeited the goodwill, respect,

and admiration of the Emperor and Eudoxia. But now the horizon

gradually darkens. We have to begin unravelling a tangled skein of

troubles, to trace a series of subtle intrigues, against which the

single-minded honesty of Chrysostom was ill matched, ultimately

bringing about his degradation, exile, and death. We are fortunate

in possessing, to guide us among these complicated proceedings, the

narrative of one who was not only an eye-witness, but an actor in many

of the scenes which he relates.[502]

In the spring of the year A.D. 400, during the military usurpation of

Gaïnas, twenty-two prelates had assembled in Constantinople to confer

with the Archbishop on ecclesiastical business.[503] Palladius has

mentioned the names of a few, Theotimus from Scythia, Ammon an Egyptian

from Thrace, Arabianus from Galatia. One Sunday when the conclave was

sitting, Eusebius, bishop of Valentinopolis in Asia, apparently not

himself a member of the synod, entered the place of assembly, and

presented a document addressed to the Archbishop as President, which

contained seven grave charges against Antoninus, bishop of Ephesus: “He

had melted down some of the sacred vessels to make plate for his son;

he had transferred some of the marble at the entrance of the baptistry

to his own bath; he had placed some fallen columns which belonged to

the Church in his own dining-room; he had retained in his employment

a servant who had committed murder; he had taken possession of some

property in land which had been left to the Church by Basilina, the

mother of Julian; he had resumed intercourse with his wife, and had

children born to him, after his ordination; lastly, the worst offence

of all, he had instituted a regular system of selling bishoprics on a

scale proportioned to the revenue of the sees.” Chrysostom probably

perceived, or suspected from the eagerness of the accuser, that he

entertained some personal animosity towards the accused. He replied

with calmness and caution: “Brother Eusebius, since accusations made

under the influence of agitated feelings are often not easy to prove,

let me beseech you to withdraw the written accusation, while we

endeavour to correct the causes of your annoyance.” Eusebius waxed hot,

and repeated his tale of charges with much vehemence and acrimony of

tone. The hour of service was approaching; Chrysostom committed to

Paul, bishop of Heraclea, who appeared friendly to Antoninus, the task

of attempting to conciliate Eusebius, and passed with the remainder of

the prelates into the cathedral.

The opening salutation, “Peace be with you,” was pronounced by the

Archbishop as he took his seat in the centre of the other bishops,

ranged, according to custom, on either side of him round the wall

of the choir or tribune. The service was proceeding, when, to the

amazement alike of the clergy and the congregation, Eusebius abruptly

entered the choir, hurried up to the Archbishop, and again presented

the document of charges, adjuring him by the life of the Emperor and

other tremendous oaths to attend to its contents. From the agitation of

his manner, the people imagined that he must be a suppliant entreating

the Archbishop to intercede with the Emperor for his life. To avoid a

disturbance in the face of the congregation, Chrysostom received the

paper of charges, but when the lessons for the day had been read, and

the Liturgy of the Faithful (Missa Fidelium) was about to begin, he

desired Pansophius, bishop of Pissida, to “offer the gifts,” and, with

the rest of the prelates, quitted the church. His serenity of mind was

ruffled by the impetuous behaviour of Eusebius, and he dreaded the

possibility of infringing our Lord’s command to abstain from bringing

a gift to the altar when “thy brother hath aught against thee.” After

the conclusion of the service, he took his seat with the other bishops

in the baptistry, and summoned Eusebius into the presence of the

conclave. Once more the accuser was warned not to advance charges which

he might not be able to substantiate, and was reminded that when once

the indictment had been formally lodged, he could not, being a bishop,

retract the prosecution. Eusebius, however, intimated his willingness

to accept all the responsibility of persevering with the accusation.

The list of charges was then formally read. The bishops concurred in

pronouncing each of the alleged offences to be a gross violation of

ecclesiastical law, but recommended that Antoninus should be tried upon

the cardinal crime of simony, since this transcended, and in a manner

comprehended, all the rest. “Love of money was the root of all evil;”

and he who would basely sell for money the highest spiritual office,

would not scruple to dispose of sacred vessels, marbles, or land

belonging to the Church. The Archbishop then turned to the accused:

“What say you, brother Antoninus, to these things?” The Bishop of

Ephesus replied by a flat denial of the charges. A similar question

being addressed to some of the bishops there present, described

as purchasers of their sees, was answered by a similar denial. An

examination of such witnesses as could be procured lasted till two

o’clock in the day, when, owing to the lack of further evidence, the

proceedings were adjourned. Considering the gravity of the affair, and

the inconvenience of collecting the witnesses from Asia, the Archbishop

announced his intention of paying a visit to Asia Minor in person.

Antoninus, conscious of guilt, and aware of the rigorous scrutiny to

which his conduct would be subjected, was now thoroughly alarmed.

He made interest with a nobleman at court, whose estates he managed

(contrary to ecclesiastical law) in Asia, and besought him to prevent

the visit of the Archbishop, pledging himself to present the necessary

witnesses at Constantinople. The Archbishop, accordingly, found his

intended departure opposed by the Court. It was represented that the

absence of the chief pastor from the capital, undesirable at all

times, might be especially inconvenient at a crisis when tumults were

apprehended from the movements of Gaïnas; and it was unnecessary, as

the appearance of witnesses from Asia in due time was guaranteed.[504]

Any delay was an immediate relief to the accused; and there was a

further hope that, by bribery or intimidation, the ultimate production

of the witnesses might be prevented. But he was disappointed; for

though the Archbishop consented to defer his own visit to Asia, he

appointed, with the sanction of the synod, three delegates to proceed

thither immediately and institute an inquiry into the case of Antoninus.

The delegates were instructed to hold their court at Hypœpœ, a town

not far from Ephesus, in conjunction with the bishops of the province;

and the Archbishop and his synod further determined, that if either

the accuser or accused failed to appear there within two months, he

should be excommunicated. One of the delegates, Hesychius, bishop of

Parium on the Hellespont, was a friend of Antoninus, and withdrew from

the mission under the pretence of illness; the other two, Syncletius,

bishop of Trajanopolis in Thrace, and Palladius, bishop of Hellenopolis

in Bithynia, proceeded to Smyrna, announced their arrival to the

accuser and defendant by letter, and summoned them to appear at Hypœpœ

within the appointed time. The summons was obeyed, but the appearance

of the two was only for the purpose of playing off a farce before the

commissioners. Strange to relate, a reconciliation had taken place

between Antoninus and his apparently implacable accuser. Eusebius

had yielded to the temptation to commit the very crime which he had

so vehemently denounced. A bribe of money had quelled his righteous

indignation; plaintiff and defendant were now accomplices, whose one

interest was to conceal their joint iniquities. They professed great

willingness to produce their witnesses, but pleaded the difficulty

of collecting persons who lived in different and distant places, and

were engaged in various occupations. The commissioners requested the

accuser to name a period within which he could guarantee the appearance

of his witnesses. Eusebius required forty days. As this space of

time covered the hottest part of the summer, it was hoped that the

patience or health of the commissioners would be too much exhausted

at the expiration of it to prosecute the inquiry. Eusebius then

departed, ostensibly to search for witnesses; but, in fact, he quietly

sneaked away to Constantinople, and concealed himself in some obscure

corner in that great city. The forty days expired, and, Eusebius not

appearing, the two delegates wrote to the bishops of Asia, pronouncing

him excommunicated for contumacy. They lingered a whole month longer

in Asia, and then returned to Constantinople. Here they chanced to

light upon Eusebius, and upbraided him with his faithless conduct.

He affected to have been ill, and renewed his promises to produce

witnesses. During these prolonged delays Antoninus died; and Chrysostom

now received earnest solicitations from the clergy of Ephesus, and from

the neighbouring bishops, to apply a healing hand to the wounds and

diseases of the Asiatic Church. “We beseech your Dignity[505] to come

down and stamp a divine impress on the Church of Ephesus, which has

long been distressed, partly by the adherents of Arius, partly by those

who, in the midst of their avarice and arrogance, pretend to be on our

side; for very many are they who lie in wait like grievous wolves,

eager to seize the episcopal throne by money.”[506]

The death of Gaïnas in January, A.D. 401, set Chrysostom free to comply

with this earnest appeal to his authority and aid. It was the depth of

the winter season; his health was infirm and impaired by the strain

of the past year’s anxiety and toil; but the zeal of the Archbishop

disregarded these impediments. He embarked at Constantinople without

delay, leaving Severian, Bishop of Gabala, to act as deputy bishop in

his absence. Such a violent north wind sprang up soon after starting,

that the crew of the vessel, afraid of being driven on Proconnesus,

lay at anchor for two days under shelter of the promontory of Trito. On

the third day they took advantage of a southerly breeze to land near

Apamea in Bithynia, where Chrysostom was joined by three bishops, Paul

of Heraclea, Cyrinus of Chalcedon, and Palladius of Hellenopolis. With

these companions he proceeded by land to Ephesus. There he was received

with hearty welcome by the clergy and by seventy bishops.

The first business to which the Archbishop and this council of prelates

addressed themselves was the election of a new bishop to the see of

Ephesus. As usual there were many rival candidates, and factions

supporting each with equal vehemence. Chrysostom fell back on the

expedient of putting forward a candidate regarded with indifference

by all parties. The plan succeeded, and Heracleides was elected. He

was a deacon of three years’ standing, ordained by Chrysostom, and

in immediate attendance on him; a native of Cyprus, who had received

an ascetic training in the desert of Scetis, a man of ability and

learning. He comes before us again as a fellow-sufferer with the

Archbishop, to whom he had owed his elevation.

Not long after the arrival of Chrysostom, Eusebius, the original

persecutor of Antoninus and of the simoniacal bishops, appeared, and

requested to be re-admitted to communion with his brethren. The request

was not immediately granted; but it was determined to proceed with the

trial of the accused bishops, to prove whose guilt Eusebius affirmed

that he could produce abundant evidence. The witnesses were examined,

and the crime being considered fully proven in the case of six bishops,

the offenders were summoned into the presence of the council. At first

they stoutly denied their guilt, but finally gave way before the minute

and circumstantial depositions of lay, clerical, and even female

witnesses as to the place, time, and quality of the purchases which

they had transacted. They pleaded partly the prevalence of the custom

in excuse for their crime, and partly their anxiety to be exempted

from the burden of discharging curial duties; that is, from serving on

the common and municipal council of their city. Every estate-holder

to the amount of twenty-five acres of land was bound to serve in the

curia of his city. Many of the functions incident to that office, such

as the assessment and collection of imposts, were (especially under

an ill-administered despotism) invidious and onerous. Constantine had

exempted the clergy from curial office, and the consequence was that

many men got themselves ordained simply to evade the disagreeable duty;

and this becoming detrimental both to the Church and State, the law

of Constantine underwent modifications by his successors. The Church

passed canons forbidding those who were curiales to be ordained, the

effect of which was to diminish the number of wealthy men who entered

the ranks of the clergy.[507] The Asiatic bishops, therefore, if

curiales when ordained, had acted against the laws of the Church,

and could not legally have claimed exemption from curial duties on

the ground of their orders. They sued for mercy to the council; they

entreated that, if deprived of their sees, the money which they had

paid to obtain them might be returned. In many cases it had been

procured with much difficulty; some had even parted with the furniture

of their wives to raise the requisite amount. The Archbishop undertook

to intercede with the Emperor for their exemption from curial duty; the

ecclesiastical question he submitted to the council. The decision of

the prelates, under the influence of their president, was temperate and

wise. The six bishops were to be deprived of their sees, but allowed

to receive the Eucharist inside the altar rails with the clergy, and

the heirs of Antoninus were required to restore their purchase-money to

them. The deposed prelates were superseded by the appointment of six

men, unmarried, eminent for learning and purity of life.[508]

On his return through Bithynia the Archbishop was detained by a not

less difficult and delicate piece of business. Gerontius, Archbishop

of Nicomedia, the metropolitan of Bithynia, was a singular specimen of

an ecclesiastical adventurer. He had been a deacon at Milan, but was

expelled by Ambrose for misconduct. He made his way to Constantinople,

where, by general cleverness, and by some real or pretended skill in

medicine, he became a favourite with people of rank, and through the

interest of some influential friends obtained the See of Nicomedia.

He was consecrated by Helladius, bishop of Heraclea, for whose son

Gerontius had managed to procure a high appointment in the army. The

new bishop of Nicomedia gained the attachment of his people, again it

is said, through his skill in curing diseases of the body rather than

of the soul. Ambrose incessantly demanded of Nectarius, then Patriarch

of Constantinople, that he should be deposed; but Nectarius did not

venture to incur the displeasure of the Nicomedians. The bolder spirit

and more scrupulous conscience of Chrysostom did not hesitate to strike

the blow which his more worldly and courtly predecessor had shrunk

from striking. Gerontius was deposed, whether by the sole authority

of the Archbishop, or by the decree of a council acting under his

influence, is not stated. Pansophius, formerly tutor to the Empress,

a man of piety, wisdom, and gentleness, was promoted to the see. But

the Nicomedians bewailed the loss of their favourite; they went about

the streets in procession, singing litanies, as if in the time of some

great national calamity.[509]

Before quitting Asia, Chrysostom is also said to have taken active

measures for the suppression of the worship of Midas at Ephesus, and

of Cybele in Phrygia.[510] All these proceedings are worth recording,

not only as of some ecclesiastical interest in themselves, but also

because they were all remembered and turned against him by his enemies.

It has been much debated whether Chrysostom, by his acts in Asia,

overstrained his legal powers, or rather, whether he exceeded the

legal boundaries of his jurisdiction as Patriarch of Constantinople.

The fact seems to be that the importance of his see was in that

growing state which enabled the possessor of it, if a man of energy

and ability, to go great lengths without any exception being taken to

his authority, unless and until a hostile feeling was provoked against

him. By the Council of Constantinople, A.D. 381, the Patriarch of that

city was restricted in his jurisdiction to the diocese of Thrace.[511]

His authority over the dioceses of Asia Minor and Pontus was not

established till the Council of Chalcedon, A.D. 451, when there was

a long discussion on the subject, and the papal legates especially

resisted any claim to such an extension; but it was affirmed that the

Patriarchs had _long enjoyed_ the privilege of ordaining metropolitans

to the provinces of those dioceses, and so it was finally conveyed to

them by that Council; and the additional right was granted them of

hearing appeals from these metropolitans.[512] Theodoret (c. 28) simply

observes that the jurisdiction of Chrysostom extended not only over the

six provinces of Thrace, but also over Asia and Pontus. The Council of

Constantinople gave the bishop of that see the first rank after the

Bishop of Rome, because Constantinople was “a new Rome.” The Council

of Chalcedon declared him for the same reason to be invested with

_equal_ privileges.

Chrysostom was welcomed, on his return to Constantinople, with hearty

demonstrations of joy. On the following day he was at his post in the

cathedral, and once more addressing his beloved flock. In somewhat

rapturous language he expresses his thankfulness at learning that their

fidelity to the Church, and their attachment to their spiritual father,

had not been impaired by his absence, which had lasted more than a

hundred days. They were disappointed that he had not returned in time

to celebrate Easter with them. But he consoles them by representing

that every participation of the Eucharist was a kind of Easter. “_As

often_ as ye eat this bread, ye do show forth the Lord’s death till He

come.” “They were not tied to time and place like the Jew. Wherever

and whenever the Christian celebrated that holy feast with joy and

love, there was the true Paschal Festival.”[513] They regretted also

that so many had been baptized by other hands than his. “What then?

that does not impair the gift of God; _I_ was not present when they

were baptized, but _Christ_ was present.” “In a document signed by the

Emperor, the only question of importance is the autograph; the quality

of the ink and paper matters not. Even so in baptism, the tongue and

the hand of the priest are but as the paper and pen: the hand which

writes is the Holy Spirit Himself.”[514]

The thankfulness and joy of Chrysostom at the affectionate reception

with which he was greeted by the people were probably felt and

expressed the more warmly, owing to some unpleasant accounts which

had been forwarded to him by his deacon Serapion, that Severian,

Bishop of Gabala, had been endeavouring to undermine his influence

in his absence. It will be remembered that to Severian Chrysostom

had intrusted his episcopal duties during his visitation journey in

Asia. The circumstance of a bishop of Syria residing for so long a

time in Constantinople is worth considering, and affords a curious

insight into the character of the times. Antiochus, Bishop of Ptolemais

in Phœnicia, had a reputation as a learned and eloquent man; he

paid a visit to Constantinople, and excited much admiration by his

discourses. Severian, hearing of his success, was animated by a spirit

of emulation, if not envy, which could not be satisfied till he had

exhibited his powers on the same theatre. He carefully composed a

large stock of sermons, and set out to try his fortune in the capital.

The unsuspicious and generous Archbishop received him cordially, and

frequently invited him to preach. Severian possessed some powers of

speaking, though he had a harsh provincial accent, and he exerted all

his eloquence in the church, and all his arts of flattery out of it,

to win the confidence and admiration, not only of the Archbishop,

but also of the chief personages at court, and even the Emperor and

Empress. It was with their full approval that he remained as deputy

of the Archbishop during his sojourn in Asia. But he found himself

narrowly and suspiciously watched by the Archdeacon Serapion, who

opposed some of his proceedings as arbitrary, and made no concealment

of his dislike. One day after the return of Chrysostom, Severian

passed through an apartment of the episcopal palace where Serapion was

sitting. Serapion rose not to make the customary salutation of respect.

Severian, irritated by his discourtesy, exclaimed in a loud voice:

“If Serapion dies a Christian, then Jesus Christ was not incarnate.”

The last clause only of the sentence was repeated by Serapion to

Chrysostom. It was corroborated by witnesses; the indignation of the

Archbishop was excited. Severian was peremptorily commanded to quit

the city. The Empress resented the expulsion of a favourite preacher,

and commanded the Archbishop to recall him. Chrysostom yielded so

far, but was inflexible in his refusal to admit the offender to

communion, till Eudoxia came in person to the Church of the Apostles,

placed her infant son Theodosius on his knees, and conjured him by

solemn oaths to listen to her request. The Archbishop then, but with

some reluctance, consented.[515] He was, however, thoroughly honest

in doing that to which he had once made up his mind. Fearing that his

congregation, in their zealous attachment to him, might disapprove of

the reconciliation, he delivered a short address on the subject. He was

their spiritual father, and he trusted therefore they would extend to

him the respect and obedience of affectionate and dutiful children. He

came to them with the most appropriate message that could be delivered

by the mouth of a bishop—a message of peace and love. There was also

a further duty incumbent on all—respectful submission to the civil

powers. If the apostle Paul said, “Be subject to principalities and

powers” (Tit. iii. 1), how especially was this precept incumbent on

the subjects of a religious sovereign who laboured for the good of

the Church? He besought them to receive Severian with a full heart

and with open arms. The request was received by the congregation with

expressions of approbation. He thanked them for their obedience, and

concluded with a prayer that God would grant a fixed and lasting peace

to His Church.

Severian addressed them the next day in a rhetorical and artificial

discourse on the beauty and blessings of peace—a subject painfully

incongruous with the subsequent conduct of the speaker; for this

misunderstanding with the Bishop of Gabala was the first muttering

of the storm which was soon to burst over the head of the doomed

Archbishop.[516]

The inevitable fate of one who attempts to reform a deeply corrupt

society, and a secularised clergy, on an ascetic model befell

Chrysostom. He lashed with almost equal severity the most unpardonable

crimes and the more venial foibles and follies of the age. His

denunciations of heartless rapacity, sensuality, luxury, addiction

to debasing and immoral amusements, might have been borne; but he

presumed—an intolerable offence!—to censure the fashionable ladies for

setting off their complexions with paint, and surmounting their heads

with piles of false hair. The clergy, too, might have tolerated his

condemnation of the grosser offences, such as simony or concubinage,

but they resented his restraint of their indulgence in the pleasures

of society, and of their propensity to frequent the entertainments

of the noble and wealthy. He was, as Palladius expresses it, “like a

lamp burning before sore eyes,” for what he bade others be, that he

was pre-eminently himself.[517] None could say that he was one man in

the pulpit and another out of it. To set an example to his worldly

clergy, and to avoid contamination, he gave up his episcopal income,

save what sufficed to supply his simple daily wants. He resolutely

abstained from mingling in general society, and ate his frugal meals

in the seclusion of his own apartment. Thus, with the exception of a

few deeply attached friends, who measured practical Christianity by the

same standard as himself, he became deeply unpopular among the upper

ranks of society. With the poor it was otherwise; they regarded him as

a kind of champion, because he denounced the oppressions and extortions

of the rich, and the tyranny of masters over slaves, and because he was

ever inculcating the duty of almsgiving. In the eyes of his friends he

was the saint, pure in life, severe in discipline, sublime in doctrine;

in the eyes of his enemies he was the sacerdotal tyrant, odious to the

clergy as an inexorable enforcer of a rule of life intolerably rigid,

odious to clergy and laity as an inhospitable, if not haughty recluse;

a vigilant and merciless censor who rode roughshod over established

customs. Individuals at last, among clergy and laity, who conceived

that they themselves, or at any rate the section of society to which

they belonged, were the butts at which more especially the Archbishop

aimed his shafts, began to discuss their grievances, till their

conferences gradually assumed the shape of positive organised hostility

against the disturber of their peace. But before entering on the

troublous history of his enemies’ machinations, it may be well to take

a glance at the most conspicuous of Chrysostom’s friends.

The list of those who are known to us by more than their mere names

is soon exhausted. Among the clergy may be reckoned Heracleides, made

Bishop of Ephesus in the place of Antoninus; Proclus, afterwards (in

A.D. 434) Patriarch of Constantinople, at present the receiver of those

who demanded audiences with the Patriarch; Cassianus, founder of the

Monastery of St. Victor at Marseilles, and his friend and companion

Germanus; Helladius, the priest of the palace, probably equivalent

to private chaplain; Serapion, the deacon[518] or archdeacon,[519]

afterwards made Bishop of Heraclea in Thrace, from which see he was

expelled in the persecution which befell Chrysostom’s followers. With

most of these men he maintained a constant and affectionate intercourse

or correspondence during his exile to the close of his life. With such

intimate companions and friends the austerity and reserve of manner

which he assumed towards those outside this circle vanished. All the

natural amiability and playful humour of his disposition shone out when

he was in their company; he called some of them by nicknames of his own

invention, especially those who practised such ascetic exercises as he

specially approved.[520]

Three ladies are distinguished as among his most faithful friends.

Salvina was the daughter of the African rebel Gildo, and had been

married by Theodosius to Nebridius, nephew of his Empress, in the

hope—a vain one as it proved—that this tie would attach Gildo to

the Empire. Her husband died young; she vowed perpetual widowhood,

and became the patroness and protectress at the court of Arcadius of

oriental churches and ecclesiastics.

Pentadia was wife of the consul Timasius; and when her husband was

banished by Eutropius to the Oasis of Egypt, she had been persecuted by

the merciless tyrant, and fled for refuge to the Church, where she was

protected in sanctuary by the Archbishop in spite of the opposition of

her persecutor.

But by far the most eminent of Chrysostom’s female friends was the

deaconess Olympias. She sprang from a noble but Pagan family. Her

grandfather, Ablavius, was a prætorian prefect, highly esteemed and

trusted by Constantine the Great, and her father, Seleucus, had

attained the rank of count. She was early left an orphan, endowed

with great personal beauty, and heiress to a vast fortune. Her uncle

and guardian, Procopius, was a man of probity and piety, a friend

and correspondent of Gregory Nazianzenus. Her instructress also,

Theodosia, sister of St. Amphilocius, was a woman of piety; one whom

Gregory recommended Olympias to imitate as a very model of excellence

in speech and conduct. Under this happy training, the girl grew up to

emulate and surpass her preceptress in goodness. Gregory delighted to

call her “his own Olympias,” and to be called “father” by her.[521]

There could be no difficulty in finding a suitor for a lady possessed

of every attraction. The anxiety of Procopius was to secure a worthy

one. Nebridius was selected; a young man, but high in official rank;

Count or Intendant of the Domain in A.D. 382, Prefect of Constantinople

in A.D. 386. They were wedded in A.D. 384. Many bishops assisted at

the ceremony, but Gregory was prevented from attending by the state

of his health. He wrote a letter to Procopius, saying that in spirit,

nevertheless, he would join their hands to one another and to God.

Part of the letter is written in a vein of sprightly humour. “It

would have been very unbecoming for a gouty old fellow like himself

to be seen hobbling about among the dancers and merry-makers at the

nuptials.”[522] He also addressed a poem to Olympias, in which he

gives her advice how she ought to conduct herself as a married woman.

She did not long need his counsel. Nebridius died about two years

after their marriage. Olympias regarded this early dissolution of the

marriage-bond as an intimation of the Divine will that she should

henceforth live free from the worldly entanglements and cares incident

to married life. The Emperor Theodosius desired to unite her to a

Spaniard named Elpidius, a kinsman of his own, but she steadfastly

refused. The Emperor acted in that despotic manner which occasionally

marred his usually generous character. He ordered the property of

Olympias to be confiscated till she should be thirty years of age; she

was even denied freedom of intercourse with her episcopal friends, and

of access to the Church. But she only thanked the Emperor for those

deprivations, which were intended to make her hanker after worldly

life. “You have exercised towards your humble handmaiden a virtue

becoming a monarch and suitable even to a bishop; you have directed

what was to me a heavy burden, and the distribution of it an anxiety,

to be kept in safe custody. You could not have conferred a greater

blessing upon me, unless you had ordered it to be bestowed upon the

churches and the poor.” The Emperor was softened; at any rate he

perceived the uselessness, if not the injustice, of his treatment. He

cancelled the order for the confiscation of her property, and left her

in the undisturbed enjoyment of single life and of her possessions.

Henceforward her time and wealth were devoted to the interests of the

Church. She was the friend, entertainer, adviser of many of the most

eminent ecclesiastics of the day; the liberal patroness of their works

in Greece, Asia, Syria, not only by donations of money but even of

landed property. We may not admire what was regarded in those days as

among the most admirable traits of saintliness, a total disregard to

personal neatness and cleanliness; but we can admire her frugal living,

and entire devotion of her time to ministering to the wants of the

sick, the needy, and the ignorant. Her too indiscriminate liberality

was restrained by Chrysostom, who represented to her that, as her

wealth was a trust committed to her by God, she ought to be prudent

in the distribution of it. This salutary advice procured for him the

ill-will of many avaricious bishops and clergy, who had profited, or

hoped to profit, by her wealth.[523] She, on her side, repaid the

Archbishop for his spiritual care by many little feminine attentions

to his bodily wants, especially by seeing that he was supplied with

wholesome food, and did not overstrain his feeble constitution by a too

rigid abstinence.[524]

The leaders of the faction hostile to Chrysostom among the clergy were

the two bishops already mentioned—Severian of Gabala and Antiochus

of Ptolemais. To these was added a third in the person of Acacius,

Bishop of Berœa. He had, in A.D. 401 or A.D. 402, paid a visit to

Constantinople, and, in a fit of rage at what he considered the mean

lodging and inhospitable entertainment of the Archbishop, had coarsely

exclaimed, in the hearing of some of the clergy, “I’ll season a dainty

dish for him.”[525] The ladies who acquired a melancholy pre-eminence

among the enemies of the Archbishop were the intimate friends of

the Empress, already mentioned—Marsa, widow of Promotus, the consul

whom Rufinus murdered; Castricia, wife of the consul Saturninus;

and Eugraphia, a wealthy widow,—all rich women “who used _for_

evil the wealth which their husbands had _through_ evil obtained.”

Proud, intriguing, licentious, they were all exasperated against the

Archbishop for the censure which he had unsparingly pronounced upon

their moral conduct, as well as their vain and extravagant display

in dress. The house of Eugraphia became the rendezvous of all clergy

and monks, as well as laity, who were disaffected to him. Among the

clergy was Atticus, who was obtruded on the see as Archbishop after the

banishment of Chrysostom. This worthy cabal collected, and disseminated

with praiseworthy industry, whatever tales could damage the character

and influence of the Archbishop. His real failings were exaggerated,

others were invented, and his language misrepresented. He was

irascible, inhospitable, uncourteous, parsimonious; he had unmercifully

assailed Eutropius with harsh language when he fled for refuge to

the Church; he had behaved disrespectfully to Gaïnas when he was

“magister militum;” but, worse than all, he had audaciously attacked

the Augusta herself, and had insulted her sacred majesty by indicating

her under the name of Jezebel. This is scarcely credible in itself,

and is distinctly contradicted by the most trustworthy authorities;

but it is stated that he had reproved the Empress for appropriating

with harshness, if not violence, a piece of land; and of course the

blows which he directed against inordinate luxury, unseemly parade

of dress and the like, fell heavily upon the most prominent leader

in these follies. She was probably mortified also to find that her

display of religious zeal, her pious attendance on the services of the

Church, her pilgrimages, her really liberal donations to good works,

did not protect her from censure in other things. Chrysostom was not

one of those who would connive at evil for the benefit, as some might

have represented it, of the Church. He would not sacrifice what he

believed to be the interests of morality, for the supposed advantage

either of himself or of the Church over which he ruled. Wrong was

wrong and must be rebuked, though the actor was the Empress herself,

though that Empress was inclined to be the benefactress and patroness

of the Church, and though she might become, as she _did_ become, his

implacable foe.

The clergy only needed an equally potent leader on their side, and

then the organisation of the hostile forces would be complete. Such

a chief was to be found in the Patriarch of Alexandria, Theophilus,

who had already displayed a malignant spirit at the ordination of

the Archbishop, though intimidated by Eutropius into submission. He

was only waiting his opportunity for revenge, which a concurrence of

circumstances now put into his hands.

After making the most of such charges as gossip, aided by malice, could

manufacture at Constantinople, the enemy employed one of the party, a

despicable Syrian monk named Isaac, to make a scrutinising inquiry at

Antioch into the previous life of Chrysostom. A youth passed in such a

licentious and voluptuous city could not fail, they thought, to betray

some stains if submitted to a rigorous inspection. But their malevolent

expectations were disappointed, for their miserable spy could bring

back nothing but unmixed praise of an immaculate youth and a pious

manhood.[526]

At this juncture the intriguers applied to Theophilus, and they could

not have secured a more willing and able director of their plans. The

character of this prelate, and his prominent position in the final

events of Chrysostom’s career, demand some notice. Of his family and

early life little is known. He had a sister who sympathised with

him in his ambitious schemes; and Cyril, who succeeded him in the

patriarchate, and too largely inherited his spirit, was his nephew.

He spent a portion of his younger manhood as a recluse in the Nitrian

desert, where he became familiar with the most eminent anchorites of

that period, Elurion, Ammon, Isidore, and Macarius. He was secretary to

Athanasius, and a presbyter of Alexandria under Peter, his successor;

and, on the death of Timothy in A.D. 385, who succeeded Peter, he

was elevated to the see. All historians concur in admitting that he

possessed great ability; that he was capable of conceiving great

projects, and executing them with courage and address. Jerome has

described him as deeply skilled in science, especially mathematics and

astrology, and highly praises his eloquence.[527] He had a passion

for building, and his episcopate was distinguished equally by the

destruction of Pagan temples and the erection of Christian churches.

The most splendid of these were the church of St. John the Baptist at

Alexandria, and another at Canopus. But to gratify this expensive taste

he was grasping of money, too often to the neglect of those indigent

people who were dependent on the alms of the Church. He combined his

efforts with Chrysostom’s, as has been already related, in healing

the schism of Antioch in A.D. 399, after which little is known of his

history, till he becomes Chrysostom’s implacable and too successful

foe.[528]

Saint John Chrysostom, His Life and Times A sketch of the church and the empire in the fourth century · 第 16 / 24 章