science. After the fanaticism of the Arabs had subsided, the caliphs
aspired to conquer the arts, rather than the provinces, of the empire:
their liberal curiosity rekindled the emulation of the Greeks, brushed
away the dust from their ancient libraries, and taught them to know and
reward the philosophers, whose labors had been hitherto repaid by the
pleasure of study and the pursuit of truth. The CÊsar Bardas, the uncle
of Michael the Third, was the generous protector of letters, a title
which alone has preserved his memory and excused his ambition. A
particle of the treasures of his nephew was sometimes diverted from
the indulgence of vice and folly; a school was opened in the palace
of Magnaura; and the presence of Bardas excited the emulation of the
masters and students. At their head was the philosopher Leo, archbishop
of Thessalonica: his profound skill in astronomy and the mathematics
was admired by the strangers of the East; and this occult science
was magnified by vulgar credulity, which modestly supposes that all
knowledge superior to its own must be the effect of inspiration or
magic. At the pressing entreaty of the CÊsar, his friend, the celebrated
Photius, renounced the freedom of a secular and studious life, ascended
the patriarchal throne, and was alternately excommunicated and absolved
by the synods of the East and West. By the confession even of priestly
hatred, no art or science, except poetry, was foreign to this universal
scholar, who was deep in thought, indefatigable in reading, and eloquent
in diction. Whilst he exercised the office of protospathaire or captain
of the guards, Photius was sent ambassador to the caliph of Bagdad. The
tedious hours of exile, perhaps of confinement, were beguiled by the
hasty composition of his _Library_, a living monument of erudition
and criticism. Two hundred and fourscore writers, historians, orators,
philosophers, theologians, are reviewed without any regular method:
he abridges their narrative or doctrine, appreciates their style and
character, and judges even the fathers of the church with a discreet
freedom, which often breaks through the superstition of the times. The
emperor Basil, who lamented the defects of his own education, intrusted
to the care of Photius his son and successor, Leo the philosopher; and
the reign of that prince and of his son Constantine Porphyrogenitus
forms one of the most prosperous Êras of the Byzantine literature.
By their munificence the treasures of antiquity were deposited in the
Imperial library; by their pens, or those of their associates, they were
imparted in such extracts and abridgments as might amuse the curiosity,
without oppressing the indolence, of the public. Besides the _Basilics_,
or code of laws, the arts of husbandry and war, of feeding or destroying
the human species, were propagated with equal diligence; and the history
of Greece and Rome was digested into fifty-three heads or titles, of
which two only (of embassies, and of virtues and vices) have escaped
the injuries of time. In every station, the reader might contemplate the
image of the past world, apply the lesson or warning of each page, and
learn to admire, perhaps to imitate, the examples of a brighter period.
I shall not expatiate on the works of the Byzantine Greeks, who, by the
assiduous study of the ancients, have deserved, in some measure, the
remembrance and gratitude of the moderns. The scholars of the present
age may still enjoy the benefit of the philosophical commonplace book of
StobÊus, the grammatical and historical lexicon of Suidas, the Chiliads
of Tzetzes, which comprise six hundred narratives in twelve thousand
verses, and the commentaries on Homer of Eustathius, archbishop of
Thessalonica, who, from his horn of plenty, has poured the names and
authorities of four hundred writers. From these originals, and from the
numerous tribe of scholiasts and critics, some estimate may be formed
of the literary wealth of the twelfth century: Constantinople was
enlightened by the genius of Homer and Demosthenes, of Aristotle and
Plato: and in the enjoyment or neglect of our present riches, we must
envy the generation that could still peruse the history of Theopompus,
the orations of Hyperides, the comedies of Menander, and the odes of
AlcÊus and Sappho. The frequent labor of illustration attests not only
the existence, but the popularity, of the Grecian classics: the general
knowledge of the age may be deduced from the example of two learned
females, the empress Eudocia, and the princess Anna Comnena, who
cultivated, in the purple, the arts of rhetoric and philosophy. The
vulgar dialect of the city was gross and barbarous: a more correct
and elaborate style distinguished the discourse, or at least the
compositions, of the church and palace, which sometimes affected to copy
the purity of the Attic models.
In our modern education, the painful though necessary attainment of two
languages, which are no longer living, may consume the time and damp
the ardor of the youthful student. The poets and orators were long
imprisoned in the barbarous dialects of our Western ancestors, devoid
of harmony or grace; and their genius, without precept or example, was
abandoned to the rule and native powers of their judgment and fancy. But
the Greeks of Constantinople, after purging away the impurities of their
vulgar speech, acquired the free use of their ancient language, the most
happy composition of human art, and a familiar knowledge of the sublime
masters who had pleased or instructed the first of nations. But these
advantages only tend to aggravate the reproach and shame of a degenerate
people. They held in their lifeless hands the riches of their fathers,
without inheriting the spirit which had created and improved that sacred
patrimony: they read, they praised, they compiled, but their languid
souls seemed alike incapable of thought and action. In the revolution of
ten centuries, not a single discovery was made to exalt the dignity or
promote the happiness of mankind. Not a single idea has been added
to the speculative systems of antiquity, and a succession of patient
disciples became in their turn the dogmatic teachers of the next
servile generation. Not a single composition of history, philosophy, or
literature, has been saved from oblivion by the intrinsic beauties of
style or sentiment, of original fancy, or even of successful imitation.
In prose, the least offensive of the Byzantine writers are absolved from
censure by their naked and unpresuming simplicity: but the orators, most
eloquent in their own conceit, are the farthest removed from the models
whom they affect to emulate. In every page our taste and reason are
wounded by the choice of gigantic and obsolete words, a stiff and
intricate phraseology, the discord of images, the childish play of false
or unseasonable ornament, and the painful attempt to elevate themselves,
to astonish the reader, and to involve a trivial meaning in the smoke
of obscurity and exaggeration. Their prose is soaring to the vicious
affectation of poetry: their poetry is sinking below the flatness and
insipidity of prose. The tragic, epic, and lyric muses, were silent and
inglorious: the bards of Constantinople seldom rose above a riddle or
epigram, a panegyric or tale; they forgot even the rules of prosody; and
with the melody of Homer yet sounding in their ears, they confound
all measure of feet and syllables in the impotent strains which have
received the name of _political_ or city verses. The minds of the Greek
were bound in the fetters of a base and imperious superstition which
extends her dominion round the circle of profane science. Their
understandings were bewildered in metaphysical controversy: in the
belief of visions and miracles, they had lost all principles of moral
evidence, and their taste was vitiates by the homilies of the monks,
an absurd medley of declamation and Scripture. Even these contemptible
studies were no longer dignified by the abuse of superior talents: the
leaders of the Greek church were humbly content to admire and copy the
oracles of antiquity, nor did the schools of pulpit produce any rivals
of the fame of Athanasius and Chrysostom.
In all the pursuits of active and speculative life, the emulation of
states and individuals is the most powerful spring of the efforts and
improvements of mankind. The cities of ancient Greece were cast in the
happy mixture of union and independence, which is repeated on a larger
scale, but in a looser form, by the nations of modern Europe; the union
of language, religion, and manners, which renders them the spectators
and judges of each other's merit; the independence of government and
interest, which asserts their separate freedom, and excites them to
strive for preÎminence in the career of glory. The situation of the
Romans was less favorable; yet in the early ages of the republic, which
fixed the national character, a similar emulation was kindled among the
states of Latium and Italy; and in the arts and sciences, they aspired
to equal or surpass their Grecian masters. The empire of the CÊsars
undoubtedly checked the activity and progress of the human mind; its
magnitude might indeed allow some scope for domestic competition; but
when it was gradually reduced, at first to the East and at last to
Greece and Constantinople, the Byzantine subjects were degraded to an
abject and languid temper, the natural effect of their solitary and
insulated state. From the North they were oppressed by nameless tribes
of Barbarians, to whom they scarcely imparted the appellation of
men. The language and religion of the more polished Arabs were an
insurmountable bar to all social intercourse. The conquerors of Europe
were their brethren in the Christian faith; but the speech of the Franks
or Latins was unknown, their manners were rude, and they were rarely
connected, in peace or war, with the successors of Heraclius. Alone in
the universe, the self-satisfied pride of the Greeks was not disturbed
by the comparison of foreign merit; and it is no wonder if they fainted
in the race, since they had neither competitors to urge their speed,
nor judges to crown their victory. The nations of Europe and Asia
were mingled by the expeditions to the Holy Land; and it is under the
Comnenian dynasty that a faint emulation of knowledge and military
virtue was rekindled in the Byzantine empire.
Chapter LIV: Origin And Doctrine Of The Paulicians.--Part I.
Origin And Doctrine Of The Paulicians.--Their Persecution By
The Greek Emperors.--Revolt In Armenia &c.--Transplantation
Into Thrace.--Propagation In The West.--The Seeds,
Character, And Consequences Of The Reformation.
In the profession of Christianity, the variety of national characters
may be clearly distinguished. The natives of Syria and Egypt abandoned
their lives to lazy and contemplative devotion: Rome again aspired to
the dominion of the world; and the wit of the lively and loquacious
Greeks was consumed in the disputes of metaphysical theology. The
incomprehensible mysteries of the Trinity and Incarnation, instead
of commanding their silent submission, were agitated in vehement and
subtile controversies, which enlarged their faith at the expense,
perhaps, of their charity and reason. From the council of Nice to
the end of the seventh century, the peace and unity of the church was
invaded by these spiritual wars; and so deeply did they affect the
decline and fall of the empire, that the historian has too often been
compelled to attend the synods, to explore the creeds, and to enumerate
the sects, of this busy period of ecclesiastical annals. From the
beginning of the eighth century to the last ages of the Byzantine
empire, the sound of controversy was seldom heard: curiosity was
exhausted, zeal was fatigued, and, in the decrees of six councils, the
articles of the Catholic faith had been irrevocably defined. The spirit
of dispute, however vain and pernicious, requires some energy and
exercise of the mental faculties; and the prostrate Greeks were content
to fast, to pray, and to believe in blind obedience to the patriarch
and his clergy. During a long dream of superstition, the Virgin and
the Saints, their visions and miracles, their relics and images, were
preached by the monks, and worshipped by the people; and the appellation
of people might be extended, without injustice, to the first ranks
of civil society. At an unseasonable moment, the Isaurian emperors
attempted somewhat rudely to awaken their subjects: under their
influence reason might obtain some proselytes, a far greater number was
swayed by interest or fear; but the Eastern world embraced or deplored
their visible deities, and the restoration of images was celebrated
as the feast of orthodoxy. In this passive and unanimous state the
ecclesiastical rulers were relieved from the toil, or deprived of the
pleasure, of persecution. The Pagans had disappeared; the Jews were
silent and obscure; the disputes with the Latins were rare and remote
hostilities against a national enemy; and the sects of Egypt and Syria
enjoyed a free toleration under the shadow of the Arabian caliphs. About
the middle of the seventh century, a branch of ManichÊans was selected
as the victims of spiritual tyranny; their patience was at length
exasperated to despair and rebellion; and their exile has scattered over
the West the seeds of reformation. These important events will justify
some inquiry into the doctrine and story of the Paulicians; and, as
they cannot plead for themselves, our candid criticism will magnify
the _good_, and abate or suspect the _evil_, that is reported by their
adversaries.
The Gnostics, who had distracted the infancy, were oppressed by
the greatness and authority, of the church. Instead of emulating or
surpassing the wealth, learning, and numbers of the Catholics, their
obscure remnant was driven from the capitals of the East and West,
and confined to the villages and mountains along the borders of the
Euphrates. Some vestige of the Marcionites may be detected in the fifth
century; but the numerous sects were finally lost in the odious name
of the ManichÊans; and these heretics, who presumed to reconcile the
doctrines of Zoroaster and Christ, were pursued by the two religions
with equal and unrelenting hatred. Under the grandson of Heraclius, in
the neighborhood of Samosata, more famous for the birth of Lucian than
for the title of a Syrian kingdom, a reformer arose, esteemed by the
_Paulicians_ as the chosen messenger of truth. In his humble dwelling
of Mananalis, Constantine entertained a deacon, who returned from Syrian
captivity, and received the inestimable gift of the New Testament, which
was already concealed from the vulgar by the prudence of the Greek, and
perhaps of the Gnostic, clergy. These books became the measure of his
studies and the rule of his faith; and the Catholics, who dispute his
interpretation, acknowledge that his text was genuine and sincere. But
he attached himself with peculiar devotion to the writings and character
of St. Paul: the name of the Paulicians is derived by their enemies from
some unknown and domestic teacher; but I am confident that they gloried
in their affinity to the apostle of the Gentiles. His disciples, Titus,
Timothy, Sylvanus, Tychicus, were represented by Constantine and his
fellow-laborers: the names of the apostolic churches were applied to the
congregations which they assembled in Armenia and Cappadocia; and this
innocent allegory revived the example and memory of the first ages.
In the Gospel, and the Epistles of St. Paul, his faithful follower
investigated the Creed of primitive Christianity; and, whatever might
be the success, a Protestant reader will applaud the spirit, of the
inquiry. But if the Scriptures of the Paulicians were pure, they were
not perfect. Their founders rejected the two Epistles of St. Peter, the
apostle of the circumcision, whose dispute with their favorite for the
observance of the law could not easily be forgiven. They agreed with
their Gnostic brethren in the universal contempt for the Old Testament,
the books of Moses and the prophets, which have been consecrated by the
decrees of the Catholic church. With equal boldness, and doubtless with
more reason, Constantine, the new Sylvanus, disclaimed the visions,
which, in so many bulky and splendid volumes, had been published by the
Oriental sects; the fabulous productions of the Hebrew patriarchs and
the sages of the East; the spurious gospels, epistles, and acts, which
in the first age had overwhelmed the orthodox code; the theology
of Manes, and the authors of the kindred heresies; and the thirty
generations, or Êons, which had been created by the fruitful fancy of
Valentine. The Paulicians sincerely condemned the memory and opinions of
the ManichÊan sect, and complained of the injustice which impressed that
invidious name on the simple votaries of St. Paul and of Christ.
Of the ecclesiastical chain, many links had been broken by the Paulician
reformers; and their liberty was enlarged, as they reduced the number of
masters, at whose voice profane reason must bow to mystery and miracle.
The early separation of the Gnostics had preceded the establishment of
the Catholic worship; and against the gradual innovations of discipline
and doctrine they were as strongly guarded by habit and aversion, as by
the silence of St. Paul and the evangelists. The objects which had been
transformed by the magic of superstition, appeared to the eyes of the
Paulicians in their genuine and naked colors. An image made without
hands was the common workmanship of a mortal artist, to whose skill
alone the wood and canvas must be indebted for their merit or value. The
miraculous relics were a heap of bones and ashes, destitute of life or
virtue, or of any relation, perhaps, with the person to whom they were
ascribed. The true and vivifying cross was a piece of sound or rotten
timber, the body and blood of Christ, a loaf of bread and a cup of wine,
the gifts of nature and the symbols of grace. The mother of God was
degraded from her celestial honors and immaculate virginity; and the
saints and angels were no longer solicited to exercise the laborious
office of meditation in heaven, and ministry upon earth. In the
practice, or at least in the theory, of the sacraments, the Paulicians
were inclined to abolish all visible objects of worship, and the words
of the gospel were, in their judgment, the baptism and communion of the
faithful. They indulged a convenient latitude for the interpretation of
Scripture: and as often as they were pressed by the literal sense, they
could escape to the intricate mazes of figure and allegory. Their utmost
diligence must have been employed to dissolve the connection between the
Old and the New Testament; since they adored the latter as the oracles
of God, and abhorred the former as the fabulous and absurd invention of
men or dÊmons. We cannot be surprised, that they should have found
in the Gospel the orthodox mystery of the Trinity: but, instead of
confessing the human nature and substantial sufferings of Christ, they
amused their fancy with a celestial body that passed through the virgin
like water through a pipe; with a fantastic crucifixion, that eluded the
vain and important malice of the Jews. A creed thus simple and spiritual
was not adapted to the genius of the times; and the rational Christian,
who might have been contented with the light yoke and easy burden of
Jesus and his apostles, was justly offended, that the Paulicians should
dare to violate the unity of God, the first article of natural and
revealed religion. Their belief and their trust was in the Father, of
Christ, of the human soul, and of the invisible world. But they likewise
held the eternity of matter; a stubborn and rebellious substance, the
origin of a second principle of an active being, who has created
this visible world, and exercises his temporal reign till the final
consummation of death and sin. The appearances of moral and physical
evil had established the two principles in the ancient philosophy and
religion of the East; from whence this doctrine was transfused to the
various swarms of the Gnostics. A thousand shades may be devised in the
nature and character of _Ahriman_, from a rival god to a subordinate
dÊmon, from passion and frailty to pure and perfect malevolence: but, in
spite of our efforts, the goodness, and the power, of Ormusd are placed
at the opposite extremities of the line; and every step that approaches
the one must recede in equal proportion from the other.
The apostolic labors of Constantine Sylvanus soon multiplied the number
of his disciples, the secret recompense of spiritual ambition. The
remnant of the Gnostic sects, and especially the ManichÊans of Armenia,
were united under his standard; many Catholics were converted or seduced
by his arguments; and he preached with success in the regions of Pontus
and Cappadocia, which had long since imbibed the religion of Zoroaster.
The Paulician teachers were distinguished only by their Scriptural
names, by the modest title of Fellow-pilgrims, by the austerity of their
lives, their zeal or knowledge, and the credit of some extraordinary
gifts of the Holy Spirit. But they were incapable of desiring, or at
least of obtaining, the wealth and honors of the Catholic prelacy; such
anti-Christian pride they bitterly censured; and even the rank of elders
or presbyters was condemned as an institution of the Jewish synagogue.
The new sect was loosely spread over the provinces of Asia Minor to
the westward of the Euphrates; six of their principal congregations
represented the churches to which St. Paul had addressed his epistles;
and their founder chose his residence in the neighborhood of Colonia, in
the same district of Pontus which had been celebrated by the altars of
Bellona and the miracles of Gregory. After a mission of twenty-seven
years, Sylvanus, who had retired from the tolerating government of the
Arabs, fell a sacrifice to Roman persecution. The laws of the pious
emperors, which seldom touched the lives of less odious heretics,
proscribed without mercy or disguise the tenets, the books, and the
persons of the Montanists and ManichÊans: the books were delivered to
the flames; and all who should presume to secrete such writings, or to
profess such opinions, were devoted to an ignominious death. A Greek
minister, armed with legal and military powers, appeared at Colonia to
strike the shepherd, and to reclaim, if possible, the lost sheep. By a
refinement of cruelty, Simeon placed the unfortunate Sylvanus before a
line of his disciples, who were commanded, as the price of their pardon
and the proof of their repentance, to massacre their spiritual father.
They turned aside from the impious office; the stones dropped from their
filial hands, and of the whole number, only one executioner could
be found, a new David, as he is styled by the Catholics, who boldly
overthrew the giant of heresy. This apostate (Justin was his name) again
deceived and betrayed his unsuspecting brethren, and a new conformity to
the acts of St. Paul may be found in the conversion of Simeon: like the
apostle, he embraced the doctrine which he had been sent to persecute,
renounced his honors and fortunes, and required among the Paulicians the
fame of a missionary and a martyr. They were not ambitious of martyrdom,
but in a calamitous period of one hundred and fifty years, their
patience sustained whatever zeal could inflict; and power was
insufficient to eradicate the obstinate vegetation of fanaticism and
reason. From the blood and ashes of the first victims, a succession
of teachers and congregations repeatedly arose: amidst their foreign
hostilities, they found leisure for domestic quarrels: they preached,
they disputed, they suffered; and the virtues, the apparent virtues,
of Sergius, in a pilgrimage of thirty-three years, are reluctantly
confessed by the orthodox historians. The native cruelty of Justinian
the Second was stimulated by a pious cause; and he vainly hoped to
extinguish, in a single conflagration, the name and memory of the
Paulicians. By their primitive simplicity, their abhorrence of popular
superstition, the Iconoclast princes might have been reconciled to some
erroneous doctrines; but they themselves were exposed to the calumnies
of the monks, and they chose to be the tyrants, lest they should be
accused as the accomplices, of the ManichÊans. Such a reproach has
sullied the clemency of Nicephorus, who relaxed in their favor the
severity of the penal statutes, nor will his character sustain the honor
of a more liberal motive. The feeble Michael the First, the rigid Leo
the Armenian, were foremost in the race of persecution; but the prize
must doubtless be adjudged to the sanguinary devotion of Theodora, who
restored the images to the Oriental church. Her inquisitors explored
the cities and mountains of the Lesser Asia, and the flatterers of
the empress have affirmed that, in a short reign, one hundred thousand
Paulicians were extirpated by the sword, the gibbet, or the flames. Her
guilt or merit has perhaps been stretched beyond the measure of truth:
but if the account be allowed, it must be presumed that many simple
Iconoclasts were punished under a more odious name; and that some who
were driven from the church, unwillingly took refuge in the bosom of
heresy.