THE ERA OF THE CHURCH FATHERS

THE ERA OF
THE CHURCH FATHERS
A HISTORY OF THE EARLY CHURCH
VOLUME I V

by
HANS LIETZMANN

Translated by
BERTRAM LEE WOOLF

LUTTERWORTH PRESS
L O N D O N
 A L L RIGHTS RESERVED

First published in tg$t

Printed in Great Britain by

The Camelot Press Ltd., London and Southampton
 NIGELLO
NEPOTE NATU MINIMO

ANNO MCML
 Contents

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE . . . . .

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE . . . .

CHAPTER

1 JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

Re-affirmation of divisions in the church, 13.

Synods in Alexandria, 14; and in Antioch, 14.
C h u r c h policy of the new emperors, 16. Banish-
ments under Valens, 17. Eustathius's journey to
R o m e , 18. N e w leaders in theology, 20. Basil's
attempts at reconciliation, 22. Negotiations with
Athanasius, 23. T h e Missions of Sabinus, 25. Basil
sends Dorotheus to Rome, 26. T h e two journeys of
Dorotheus and Sanctissimus, 28. Death of Basil, 31.
T h e Gothic war, 32. Valens slain, 34.

2 THEODOSIUS I AND THE END OF THE ARIAN

CONTROVERSY . . . . . .

Peace with the Goths, 36. Theodosius unites the

church of the east, 37. Meletius, 38. Gregory of
Nazianzus in Constantinople, 38. T h e affair of the
philosopher Maximus, 40. T h e second ecumenical
council, 43. Its canons, 45, and its doctrine of the
Trinity, 47.

3 THE WESTERN CHURCH UNDER VALENTINIAN I AND

GRATIAN . . . . . . .

T h e Luciferians, 50. Damasus and Ursinus, 51.

T h e " I l l y r i a n " homoians, 52. Damasus strengthens
his position, 54. Rome's prerogatives, 56. Ambrose
of Milan, 57. Gratian, and peace in the church, 59.
Ambrose attacks the Illyrian Arianism, 60. Synods
in Aquileia, 6 1 ; their intervention in the problems
of the eastern church issues in an ultimatum, 65.

4 AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS . . . . .

T h e church's status is confirmed, 69. T h e tyrant

Maximus, 70. Priscillian, 70. Enemies of Priscillian,
73. M a x i m u s suppresses with bloodshed, 75. T h e
dispute about the altar of Victory, 76. Ambrose
8 CONTENTS

formulates the duties of a Christian ruler, 77.

Conflict with the Empress-mother Justina, 78; and
Valentinian I I , 81. Theodosius becomes sole ruler,
84. His attitude to paganism in the west and in the
east, 84. The spiritual influence of Ambrose, 87.
Sacrum Imperium, 88. Rebellion of Eugenius, 92.
Ambrose takes a hand against him, 92. Emperor
and bishop, 95.

5 P O P U L A R C H R I S T I A N I T Y IN T H E F O U R T H CENTURY . 97

Changes in the constitution of the established

church, 97. Likings for the mysterious, 98. Baptism
of adults, 99. Cyril of Jerusalem teaches Christians,
1 0 1 . Grace and will, 102, Faith, 103, God, 103,
Christ, 104, the last judgment, 105. The Holy Spirit,
106, the church, 106. The mystery of the sacra-
ments, 108. John Chrysostom and his city con-
gregation, n o . Biblicism, 1 1 3 . Superstition and the
Jewish rites, 1 1 3 . The Christian and the prevailing
emergency, 1 1 5 . Perfection and Christianity in
everyday life, 119. Martyrs as examples and as
patrons, 122.

6 MONASTICISM . . . . . . . 1 2 4

§ 1. Preliminary Steps: Ascetic elements in Jesus and

Paul, 124. Property and marriage in the first age of
Christendom, 126. Contempt for the body, 128.
Ascetics and pneumatics, 129. Certain sects demand
universal celibacy, 130. Ascent through asceticism
to gnosticism in Alexandria, 1 3 1 . Are there any
non-Christian models of monasticism?, 132.
§ 2. Anchoritism and Monasticism: Antony, 135. Athan-
asius's Life of Antony, 135. Belief in demons, .137.
Egyptian hermits, 138. The Apophthegmata Patrum,
139. The earliest monasticism: Pachomius and his
rules, 141. The working of a monastery, 143.
Worship, 145. Spread of the movement, 147.
§ 3. Monastic Religion: The sources, 149. Fear of
demons, 150. Attitude to dogma, 152; and the
Bible, 153. The practice of prayer, 154. Conscious-
ness of sin, 155. Visions and ecstasies, 156. Validity
of church and sacrament, 158. Miracle-working
monks, 160.
§ 4. Geographical Distribution of Monasticism: Palestine,
163. Syria, 165. Aphrahat, 166. The Audians, 167.
 CONTENTS 9
Messalians, 168. Ascetic extremes; Syr n e o n Stylites,
170. T h e A k o i m e t a i , 1 7 1 . A s i a M i n o r : Eustathius
of Sebaste, 173. Basil the Great, 1 7 3 . C o n s t a n -
tinople, 174. T h e W e s t : St. M a r t i n , 1 7 6 . T h e coasts,
1 7 7 . S p a i n , 178. A f r i c a , 178. Italy, 1 7 9 . R o m e ,
179. E n e m i e s o f monasticism, 180. J o v i n i a n , 180.
J e r o m e , 182.
§ 5. Monastic Theorists: S y m e o n of M e s o p o t a m i a , 182.
Liber Graduum, 190. E u a g r i u s Ponticus, 193. Basil
the G r e a t , 197. C o n c l u d i n g R e m a r k , 202.

LITERATURE 203

SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING . . . . 206

INDEX 208
 Chronological Table
A.D.
about 320 Pachomius founds a monastery
„ 350 Cyril of Jerusalem's "Lectures"
356 Antony dies, aged 105
3 6 3 - 3 6 4 JOVIAN
West East
3 6 4 - 3 7 5 VALENTINIAN I 3 6 4 - 3 7 8 VALENS
3 6 7 - 3 8 3 GRATIAN
366-384 Damasus of Rome
373 Death of Athanasius
379 Death of Basil
373-380 Peter II of Alexandria
374-397 Ambrose of Milan
3 7 5 - 3 9 2 VALENTINIAN I I 3 7 9 THEODOSIUS I
383-388 Maximus
2
39 -394 Eugenius

(388) 392-395 THEODOSIUS I. Sole E m p e r o r

381 Council of Constantinople
386 John Chrysostom ordained as priest in Antioch
389 Jerome, a monk in Bethlehem
389 Death of Gregory of Nazianzus
399 Death of Euagrius Ponticus
about 400 Publication of Histories of monasticism by
Rufinus and by Palladius
 Translator''s Note

T HE PRESENT VOLUME CONTINUES THE HISTORY

early Church which Professor Lietzmann projected in
five volumes. T h e earlier volumes were written in a way
OF THE

in which the mastery of the material was only rivalled by the

clarity of the exposition. Dr. Lietzmann did not live to carry out
his plans; but the present volume, like its predecessors, is
complete in itself, and its account of the beginnings of Christian
monasticism will surely rank as classic for many years. Never-
theless, it would have been enriched by the projected chapters
on Civilization in the Fourth Century, and on the Beginnings
of Christian Art. Even more valuable would have been a
new, and much-needed, first-hand assessment of Jerome and
Augustine, like the chapter on Origen in Volume I I .
The Select Bibliography for English Readers has again
been prepared by the Rev. H . Chadwick, M.A., Fellow of
Queens' College, Cambridge, and kindly placed at the
disposal of the publishers.
Mr. and Mrs. Andre Szanto of Chorley Wood, formerly of
Vienna, have helped with the translation of many difficult
passages; Mr. Harry Cowlishaw has again placed his skill
freely at my disposal and has made innumerable happy
suggestions, especially of English phraseology and in revising
the proofs; my wife has given ungrudging help in every page
of the MS. and the proofs, and not least in preparing the
Index; the Rev. G. H. Gordon Hewitt, M.A., editor of the
Lutterworth Press, has never failed in helping with his know-
ledge and his skill; I wish to put on record my profound
gratitude to them all. And I hope that this volume, which is
perforce the last, will be regarded in its English form as
worthy of that scholar whose magnum opus is complete in
every chapter, although it must forever remain unfinished.
B B. L. W.
BEACONSFIELD.
August 21, 1950.
 Chapter One

JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

W
HEN J O V I A N ASCENDED THE THRONE, THE DEATH-KNELL

was sounded for Julian's policy regarding Christianity.

T h e new emperor was a Christian. Even as early as the middle
of September, 363, a decree was issued that " o n l y G o d A l m i g h t y
and Christ were to be worshipped, and the people to assemble
in the churches for worship". T h e former legal status and
system, the former sources of income, and the former privileges
were restored to the churches and the clergy, and p a g a n sacri-
fices were forbidden. A small temple still stands on the island
of Corfu w h i c h is held to have been transformed b y J o v i a n
into a church. 1 Tolerance was proclaimed after a while, and
worship permitted in the temples as long as it was free from
magic and deception: Themistius extolled the new freedom as
giving the possibility of approaching God in more than one
w a y . Naturally also, Christian teaching was no longer pro-
hibited. 2
Immediately the state again granted recognition to the
church, however, the issue arose once more as to which was
correct a m o n g the many forms of its organization. T h e old
parties of the pre-Julian era sprang up again, and plunged
into the struggle for winning the recognition of the new lord.
E v e n while he was still in Edessa, he received the first deputa-
tion of A r i a n i z i n g bishops; they wished to get him on their
o w n side as against Athanasius. But Athanasius himself was
on the alert, and he waited on Jovian immediately afterwards
in Baalbek. T h e n , when the emperor arrived in Antioch, he
h a d to receive a deputation of the Alexandrian opposition
p a r t y , who, on several occasions, had passionately objected to
the restoration of Athanasius to his see. A n amusing descrip-
tion of these audiences is still extant among the writings of
1 hist, aceph. 12 p. 76 Fromen Sozom. C, 3, 3 - 4 Socr. 3, 24, 5 K a i b e l Epigr.
graeca n. 1060
2 Themistius or. 5 p. 80-83 Dindorf Cod. Theod. 13, 3, 6 cf. V o l 3, 274f.
14 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

Athanasius himself. 1
Jovian had brought Athanasius to Antioch,
and now confirmed him in office. This man of many enemies
had been sent once more into banishment b y Julian in spite
of a favourable start. 2 T h e excuse was incompetence, but the
real reason probably was that his activities in Alexandria were
awkward for the emperor: at any rate, we know that he
complained of the conversion to Christianity of certain eminent
ladies. Athanasius left the city on October 24, 362, but
comforted his people by saying, " I t is only a little cloud that
will soon blow over". In fact, he returned after his successful
journey to Jovian's court, and reached home again on
February 14, 364. 3
Here he called a synod of the Egyptian bishops, w h o m he
induced to approve a statement of the true faith. He sent this
statement to the emperor. It described the Nicene Creed as
the only rule of faith, claimed that this creed was everywhere
recognized as such throughout the empire, and required the
co-equality of the Holy Spirit in accordance with the con-
clusions reached 4 in 362. It firmly set aside the attempts " o f
a small number of the friends of Arius" in the east to do away
with the doctrine of komoousios, or even to introduce that of
homoios, and to do this by means of the plausible acceptance
of a false explanation. 6 This was aimed at the decision which
the "Macedonians", Basil of A n c y r a and his friends in the
homoiousian camp, 6 had laid before the emperor. This decision
required either the recognition of the homoios of Ariminum and
Seleukia, or else freedom to form theological parties. With this
Jovian was very ill-pleased. 7
More in harmony with the views of the emperor were those
men who had gathered in Antioch round Meletius and Eusebius
of Samosata, and w h o had been joined by the adaptable
Acacius of Caesarea. T h e decrees 8 of their synod accepted the
Nicene Creed, but on a certain explicit interpretation thereof.
1 Edessa: Philostorg. 8, 6 B a a l b e k : A t h . ep. Pref. 35 p. 40 L a r s o w Antioch:
Ä t h a n , op. 2, 3 3 4 - 3 6 O p i t z . A d d e n d a to the Epist. ad Jovianum
2 Vol.
3 ) a66f.
' J u l i a n Epist., 1 1 0 - 1 2 hist, aceph. 11. 13 R u f i n . H.E. 10, 35 J o v . ep. ad Ath.
{Ath. 2, 330 O p i t z )
4 cf. V o l . 3, 2 7 i f . 6 Ä t h a n . Epist. ad Jov. 2, 330-33, O p i t z
6 V o l . 3, 229 7 S o z o m . 6, 4, 3 - 5 Socr. 3, 25, 1 - 5
8 Socr. 3, 25, i o - 7 = S o z o m . 6, 4, 7 - 1 0
 SYNOD IN ANTIOCH 15
T h e y insisted that the term homousios was; to be understood
in the sense o f the " f a t h e r s " — m e a n i n g t h e old followers of
O r i g e n of the stamp o f Eusebius. A c c o r d i n g to this interpreta-
tion, homoousios m e a n t "similar in n a t u r e " (opoios koct' ouctiqcv)
and implied a denial o f Arianism in either the old or the new
form. I n substance, this was the old standpoint of the pro-
posals at A n c y r a (a.d. 358), 1 except that t h e synod were n o w
willing to a c c e p t the Nicene Creed. T h i s a c c o m m o d a t i o n
seemed likely to serve the interests of the u n i t y o f the church,
because it d r e w near to the requirements of the synod o f
A l e x a n d r i a in 362. B u t the insistence on their o w n theology
and the lack of any pronouncement a b o u t the H o l y Spirit
emphasized the division; and Athanasius felt this situation
w a s too painful. 2 E v e n Apollinaris of L a o d i c e a was obliged to
e x p o u n d his Christology to J o v i a n . 3 It w o u l d appear that, in
t r y i n g to b r i d g e the gaps, the emperor h a d requested the
different parties to set out their views in writing. 4 B u t he h a d
n o t time to reach a decision before he was overtaken b y
d e a t h in a village of Bithynia on F e b r u a r y 17, 364, while he
w a s still in his twenty-third year. H e had been poisoned b y
t h e fumes o f a charcoal fire, after having reigned less t h a n
e i g h t complete months.
H i s successor was V a l e n t i n i a n , an officer o f the G u a r d s ,
j u s t turned thirty-nine, a big, handsome m a n , w i t h fair hair
a n d blue eyes. His father, originally a private soldier of foreign
b l o o d , perhaps G e r m a n , had forced his w a y u p to the rank
o f g e n e r a l . I n the end, however, he was brought to ruin, a n d
he lost all his rather ill-gotten gains. A c u n n i n g old politician
n o m i n a t e d the son, a n d the soldiers accepted the a d v i c e :
V a l e n t i n i a n was proclaimed Augustus on F e b r u a r y 26, 364.
B u t the a r m y immediately demanded a second emperor, a n d
V a l e n t i n i a n could think of no one better than his o w n y o u n g e r
b r o t h e r , V a l e n s . V a l e n s was actually serving as a private in
the G u a r d s , and did not possess a single one of the advantages
o f his elder brother. B o t h emperors were barbarians in the

1 c f . V o l . 3, 22if.
2 c f . Basilius ep. 8g, 2 and the unnamed critic of the Antiochene synodal brief
in A t h . op. 2, 3 1 - 3 3 Montf.
3 ILietzmann, Apoll. 1, 250-53
4 A t h a n . ep. ad Jov. 1, 2 (2, 331, 3 Opitz) cf. Socr. 3, 25, 19
l6 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

fullest sense of the term. T h e only difference was that Valen-

tinian had acquired the veneer of cultured manners, and had
a genuine regard for the arts and sciences; whereas Valens
had remained more faithful to the conditions of his birth.
T h e period during which the two brothers reigned was full
of frontier affrays, which swung to and fro without any definite
results. O n the Rhine and the Danube, Valentinian made
unsuccessful attempts to restore the old limes at least in the
form of a series of blockhouses. In the east, too, the struggle
with the Persians to gain predominant influence in Armenia
and Iberia (Georgia), only led to an unsatisfactory outcome.
Both in the court and the administration, many abuses re-
appeared which had previously been set aside by Julian;
moreover, nepotism was a burden on the provinces. T h e
treasury imposed taxes ruthlessly, and in a manner which
was often out of harmony with serious efforts to economize, or
with an attempt to ameliorate the condition of the lower
classes. Finally, the smooth and accustomed running of the
machine of government was interrupted from time to time
by tempests of passion in the highest quarters, to the extent
of bloodshed.
In regard to the affairs of the church, Valentinian exercised
much restraint. This was possible because the entire west,
after the lifting of the measures of compulsion imposed by
Gonstantius, was united in accepting the Nicene creed. N o
serious attack was being made for the moment on the special
position taken up by the " A r i a n " Auxentius of Milan, and
those who agreed with him, i.e., the Illyrian bishops who
remained true to the creed of Rimini. 1 A decree is even said
to have been issued, in which Valentinian expressly recognized
that the church was competent freely to make its own laws on
questions of faith, and to deal with cases where charges were
made against the clergy. 2 His accession took place in Nicea,
immediately after which he set out to the west. Hypatian of
Heraklea-Perinthus, commissioned by the local bishops, obtained
an audience with him, and requested the calling of a synod for
the purpose of settling the question of the creed. 3 Valentinian
replied stiffly, " I a m a layman, and have no need to bother
1 cf. Vol. 3, 228 2 Ambrose, ep. 21, 2, 5 3 Sozom. 6, 7, 2
 BANISHMENTS UNDER VAILENS 17

myself a b o u t such matters. It concerns the priests, w h o must

arrange their o w n assemblies where they l i k e . "
This they proceeded to do; and the place chosen was
important on account of the change of the g e o g r a p h i c a l centre
o f gravity in ecclesiastical politics: the s y n o d took place at
L a m p s a c u s on the southern shore of the D a r d a n e l l e s . 1 V a l e n s
granted his permission. 2 T h e deliberations lasted for t w o
months; a n d an agreement was reached w h i c h expressly
repudiated the homoios formula which had been imposed at
Constantinople a n d Nike, and which affirmed the standpoint
o f the former majority at Seleukia (A.D. 359). 3 T h e synod
therefore agreed on the validity of the old symbol of the
" c h u r c h d e d i c a t i o n " synod at Antioch (A.D. 341), w h i c h h a d
been interpreted in the sense of homoiousios. Moreover, those
w h o h a d been deposed by the anhomoians, i.e., the followers
o f A c a c i u s and, particularly, Eudoxius were to be recognized
as the rightful incumbents of the episcopal offices. Eudoxius
a n d his supporters were called upon to repent and submit.
B u t these m e n never thought of submitting; rather they m a d e
vigorous a n d immediate use of their influence at the imperial
court. W h e n the delegates from the synod at L a m p s a c u s
arrived, V a l e n s sent them word that the emperor required
t h e m to c o m e to terms with Eudoxius, the bishop resident at
c o u r t ; those w h o refused were to go into exile. A n d that is in
f a c t w h a t h a p p e n e d : all w h o persisted in hostility to the m a n
w h o h a d the emperor's confidence, were deposed, including
M e l e t i u s o f A n t i o c h . T h e r e were exceptions, especially those
w h o m a d e a favourable personal impression on V a l e n s ; but,
in general, the rule held that the bishops w h o had been
deposed b y Constantius in the year 360, and w h o h a d returned
to their sees under Julian, were once more compelled to
depart.
T h i s applied also to Athanasius. 4 A f t e r fruitless discussions
w i t h the prefect, he left the city on O c t o b e r 5, 365, but returned
o n the 1 st of the following February by permission of an
i m p e r i a l rescript. It was said that his enemies w o u l d rather
p u t u p w i t h him in office than again provoke his skill as an
1 R e c o r d i n S o z o m . 6, 7, 3 - 1 0 2 Socr. 4, 2, 3 3 V o l . 3, 229Í".
4 hist, aceph. 15. 16 S o z o m . 6, 12, 5 - 1 6
B
l8 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

agitator. F r o m that time till his death, they left him in peace.
T h e A r i a n bishop, Lucius, 1 tried to take c h a r g e again of his
schismatic church in A l e x a n d r i a (September, 367), but was
quickly repulsed with the help of the civic authorities. 2 In the
years 365 and 366, the emperor was in d a n g e r of losing his
throne; for Procopius, 3 well-known in the Persian w a r under
Julian, h a d had himself proclaimed emperor in Constantinople,
and gained possession of the district of Bithynia, at the time
w h e n he was on the march to Antioch. T h e insurrection was
not suppressed and the leaders executed till M a y 366. It is at
least possible that the striking clemency of V a l e n s towards
Athanasius was occasioned b y his desire, in such a critical
period, to keep this troublesome person in a friendly mood,
and maintain peace in A l e x a n d r i a . 4
Otherwise, throughout the entire orient, Valens's "persecu-
tion" of the true faith was m u c h bemoaned. Synods held at
Lampsacus, Smyrna, and other places, discussed the matter
anxiously. A t last, they conceived the idea of sending a deputa-
tion to Valentinian, the elder brother, asking his intervention.
Eustathius of Sebaste in A r m e n i a , Silvanus o f Tarsus in Cilicia,
and Theophilus of K a s t a b a l a also in Cilicia, were commis-
sioned and sent to Italy. B u t they did not meet the emperor,
for, in the J a n u a r y of that year (366), he h a d gone a w a y to
Rheims. T h e r e was no point in following him, because it
was necessary in any case first to be clear as to relations with
the leaders of the western church. T h e three delegates, there-
fore, wrote 6 to Liberius of R o m e . T h e y declared that they
recognized the Nicene Creed as the unshakeable rule of faith
for the church catholic together with the formula homoousios,
thus solemnly and piously repudiating Arius. T h e y expressly
cursed the formula of R i m i n i which h a d only been imposed
b y trick and perfidy. T h e y stressed, b y underlining, that they
were taking this step in the name of the synod w h i c h h a d
commissioned them, and they begged Liberius to write that
he recognized them. Liberius at first regarded the deputation

1 cf. Vol. 3, 267

2 hist, aceph. 18 cf. 14 and Sozom. 6, 5, 2 (where he is only described as a
presbyter) Athan. op. 2, 334, 1 Opitz. He is called bishop in Sozom. 5, 7, 1
3 cf. Vol. 3 ) 2 8 5 f . 4 Socr. 4, 13, f .
5
6 ibid. 4, 12, 9-20 cf. Sozom. 6, 11, 1 - 3
 RESULTS OF DELEGATION TO ROME 19

with a mistrust for which there were gromnds, for, from his
personal knowledge, he was acquainted with the attitude of
the east. 1 But he also knew the pressure that the emperor
could bring to bear, and he had good reason, personally, to
keep an open door for repentant sinners. In answer to their
request, therefore, he sent them a detailed document addressed
to the eastern bishops, of whom 64 were mentioned by name.
This document expressed satisfaction that the east and the
west had now agreed in recognizing the Nicene Creed, and
in rejecting the conclusions reach at Rimini. 2 Armed with
this proof of the fellowship of the church, the three delegates
now went back to Sicily, where analogous conclusions were
drawn up by a synod. Documents expressing agreement were
also sent in from Africa and Gaul. 3 The delegates could make
their way home feeling that they had been successful beyond
all expectation.
T h e y were received in the east with great joy. Some of the
bishops who stood fast by the conclusions reached at Antioch
in 364, 4 came together at Tyana in Cappadocia, in order to
prepare for a great ceremony of union on the foundation that
was now assured. Their intention was to proclaim the alliance
of east and west at a gathering in Tarsus in the spring of 367,
under the sign of the Nicene Creed. Only some 34 obstinate
reactionaries held a synod in Antioch of Caria, and once
more repudiated the Nicene Creed and re-asserted the fourth
symbol of Antioch as defined by the conclusions reached at
Lampsacus. But they were just as unsuccessful as the men
of T y a n a . Acting on the advice of Eudoxius, Valens forbade
the council planned for Tarsus, and the rebels continued to
be punished. 5 T h e gesture made by Liberius and his colleagues
in the west left Eudoxius entirely unmoved.
A f t e r his defeat of Procopius, Valens undertook a campaign
against the Goths on the lower Danube. This lasted "three
full years", and so ended in the summer of 370. 6 H e then gave
his attention to the east with an increased eagerness to get on
with things. He marched towards Antioch in order to join

1 cf. Vol. 3, 223-25 2 Socr. 4, 12, 2 1 - 3 7

3
ibid. 4, 12, 38 Sozom. 6, 12, 3 * vide supra, p. 14 6 Sozom. 6, 12, 2 - 5
6 A m . Marc. 27, 5, 6. 7 Themistius or. 10 p. 166, 11 Dind.
20 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

issue a g a i n w i t h t h e Persians in t h e w a r w h i c h h a d b e e n
b r o k e n o f f b y J u l i a n ' s d e a t h . H e i n t e n d e d also to t a k e a d v a n -
t a g e o f this o p p o r t u n i t y to a r r a n g e t h e affairs o f t h e c h u r c h to
his liking, a n d , w i t h this i d e a in m i n d , he sent o n in a d v a n c e ,
Modestus, the Praefect o f the Praetorians. T h e regulations
fell like a h a i l s t o r m o n B i t h y n i a , a n d also o n G a l a t i a . T h e
officials t h e n a p p e a r e d i n C a p p a d o c i a , 1 f r o m w h e r e a t a n
earlier d a t e t h e y h a d h a d to d e p a r t w i t h o u t h a v i n g e f f e c t e d
their p u r p o s e . 1
Eusebius, t h e bishop, h a d died in o l d a g e ; a n d a f t e r l e n g t h y
negotiations, B a s i l t h e p r e s b y t e r h a d t a k e n his p l a c e . T h i s
Basil h a d b e e n the soul o f t h e o p p o s i t i o n o n t h e earlier o c c a s i o n .
M o d e s t u s a n d o t h e r p e o p l e at t h e court, i n c l u d i n g D e m o s -
thenes the c h e f , used threats a n d promises in striving t o m a k e
the n e w b i s h o p a c k n o w l e d g e t h e e m p e r o r ' s p o l i c y for t h e
c h u r c h ; b u t all in v a i n . Basil r e m a i n e d firm, e v e n w h e n d e a l i n g
w i t h the e m p e r o r himself, w h o treated h i m w i t h respect.
A l t h o u g h t h e d e c r e e o f b a n i s h m e n t h a d b e e n w r i t t e n o u t , it
w a s n e v e r s i g n e d ; a n d t h e b r a v e b i s h o p suffered n o f u r t h e r
attacks. 2
T h e c o n s e q u e n c e o f this a t t i t u d e a n d c o n d u c t o n t h e p a r t
o f V a l e n s h a d a f a r g r e a t e r significance t h a n a n y o n e at all
c o u l d h a v e d r e a m e d o f a t that time. F o r w h e n Basil w a s
e l e v a t e d there w a s a t last a g a i n to b e f o u n d a m o n g t h e eastern
bishops a m a n w i t h a g e n u i n e gift for l e a d e r s h i p . H e w a s a
m a n also o f t o w e r i n g p e r s o n a l i t y a n d g r e a t d i p l o m a t i c skill;
a n d he i m m e d i a t e l y set a b o u t the task, w i t h b u r n i n g z e a l , o f
c o m b i n i n g all the a v a i l a b l e forces. T h e N e o - A r i a n i s m o f
E u n o m i u s d i d ' n o t p r o v e a b l e to a t t r a c t adherents, b u t r a t h e r
roused o p p o s i t i o n o n all h a n d s . T h e t h e o l o g i c a l n e u t r a l i t y o f
the homoios p a r t y , w h o r e c e i v e d official s u p p o r t in e v e r y w a y
for the t i m e b e i n g , h a d b e e n o u t m o d e d b y the d e v e l o p m e n t s
o f the last ten y e a r s . I n a d d i t i o n , it w a s b u r d e n e d b y its
responsibility for n u m e r o u s acts o f v i o l e n c e in b o t h east a n d
west. T h e g e n e r a t i o n w h i c h h a d g r o w n to m a n h o o d d u r i n g t h e
struggles o f t h e sixth d e c a d e o f t h e c e n t u r y , strove e a g e r l y t o

1cf. Greg. N a z . or. 43, 31, 33

2ibid. Naz. or. 43, 44-5 T h e other sources have legendary additions cf.
Theodoret H.E. 4, 18-19; 'he parallel passages are given in Parmentier, 242-46
 NEW LEADERS IN THEOLOGY 21

attain clarity in their theology; they set their minds against

the attempts of the officials to reach appeasement.
D u r i n g this period, men belonging to the centre of Asia
M i n o r rose to prominence in increasing numbers. C a p p a d o c i a
in particular appears, again and again, as the native land of
bishops in prominent sees and even those w h i c h were con-
tested. G e o r g e and G r e g o r y , the two bishops w h o h a d been
the opponents of Athanasius, c a m e from this region; similarly,
Auxentius w h o had been installed b y Constantius in M i l a n in
355. 1 Meletius of A n t i o c h c a m e from A r m e n i a , a neighbouring
province. It was at this stage that a triad of stars b e g a n to
shine in the history of the church: Basil of Caesarea; his
brother, G r e g o r y of Nyssa; and his friend, G r e g o r y of N a z i a n -
zus. T h e Greek world, with its culture and its theology, was a
new revelation to this hinterland of Asia Minor, w h e r e the
populace still spoke their traditional languages. 2 T h e new
ideas were accepted gladly, and h a d remarkable effects. T h e
two friends, Basil and G r e g o r y , bear impressive witness to the
exalted enthusiasm w i t h which, in their district, classical Greek
subjects were studied, and to the high esteem in w h i c h the
life-work of O r i g e n was held. A l l this meant that men were at
hand with the spiritual c a p a c i t y for a further development of
theology, a development w h i c h was needed if a clear and
self-consistent solution was to be found to the problem of
the Trinity, after all the confusion of the past.
T h e frontier-guards w h o h a d taken u p their post on the
issue of the Nicene C r e e d still maintained their m u t u a l hosti-
lity. O n the one side was the E g y p t i a n party w i t h their theses
of A.D. 362. T h e s e were a compromise, b u t did not make for
a clear theology. T h e y also required the recognition of the
doctrine of the homoousia of the H o l y Spirit, w h i c h meant the
raising of new difficulties before they h a d been prepared for
b y systematic thought. O n the other side were the homoious-
ians, w h o , since the synod of A n c y r a (358), h a d advanced in
that they h a d adopted the tactical a d v a n t a g e of recognizing
the Nicene formula. 3 T h e y h a d secured a certain success in
the west, but h a d not gained the assent of Athanasius. N a y ,

1 Äthan, hist. AT. 75, 1 2 K. Holl, Ges. Schriften, 2, 238-48

3 cf. supra, p. 15
22 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

indeed, even in the ranks o f the old comrades-in-arms, oppos-

i n g camps were to be f o u n d , as the synod in C a r i a proved.
Basil set to work at this stage of affairs. H i s task w a s far
f r o m easy in itself, a n d it w a s rendered considerably m o r e
difficult b y personal hostilities. Q u i t e apart f r o m the question
of the natural antagonism b e t w e e n a p o p e o f A l e x a n d r i a a n d
one o f A n t i o c h , A t h a n a s i u s was out of h u m o u r a b o u t Meletius
(as a l r e a d y explained), and spoke a b o u t unfulfilled promises. 1
M o r e o v e r , once on a d a y , w h e n Eustathius of Sebaste in
A r m e n i a h a d been deposed, Meletius h a d taken his p l a c e to
the great displeasure o f the local church. S o m u c h h a d this
been the case that he h a d not been able to remain, b u t h a d
h a d to retire to Beroea ( A l e p p o ) . H e held o u t there until he
was called to the see o f A n t i o c h . 2 T h e r e is no difficulty in
understanding that Eustathius hated h i m . T h i s feeling w a s
a g g r a v a t e d w h e n at length Meletius a c c o m m o d a t e d himself
to the court policy of A c a c i u s and the formula homoios;3 a n d
then further w h e n , w i t h surprising speed, he j o i n e d s y m p a t h y
w i t h the Niceans, and, in c o m p a n y w i t h A c a c i u s , solemnly
a c c l a i m e d at A n t i o c h that hotly debated formula. By contrast,
Eustathius had r e m a i n e d faithful for a long time to the
homoiousian standpoint. O n l y b y reason of extreme necessity
had he felt obliged to m a k e that j o u r n e y of repentance to the
west, b y w h i c h he had gained for himself a n d his g r o u p the
recognition of Liberius. A n d it is only too easy to understand
that the circle round Meletius, and n o w Athanasius besides,
w o u l d h a v e less than complete confidence in this new ortho-
d o x y . In E g y p t , since the synod of 362, the confession of the
homoousia of the H o l y Spirit h a d been required. T h e pneumato-
machoi h a d repudiated this w i t h all their strength: these
included the old homoiousians, particularly Eustathius. Meletius
and his friends g a v e w a y on this point also in 370. 4
Basil set a b o u t b o l d l y to create unity. It was plain to h i m
that the personal and factual oppositions could only be got
over if they were all lifted out of the n a r r o w circles of local
churches and their policies, and considered f r o m the v i e w of
the c h u r c h universal. H e therefore wished to bring in the
1 Basil, ep. 89, 2 2 Tillemont, 8, 343 3 cf. Vol. 3, 267
4 Epiph. haer. 73, 34, 2-5
 NEGOTIATIONS WITH A T H AN ASIUS 23

church of the west, but not in the manner preferred in 366

by Eustathius and his adherents; for this had been the special
action of a particular group, and without practical value.
He aimed at a plenipotentiary delegation of western church-
men sent out from Rome to the east, where they would be
entirely free to reach whatever conclusions the subject-matter
itself required. He felt confident that a meeting of such import-
ance and authority would be able to effect what the east had
been unable to do out of its own resources. He was aware also
that Athanasius was the ideal person to induce the bishop of
Rome to take such a step; and this, firstly, on account of his
close relations with the people at Rome, and, secondly, on
account of the traditional connection of his episcopal throne
with that at the old capital of the empire.
He therefore wrote in the most flattering terms to the aged
bishop in Alexandria, and asked him to crown his life's work
by a great act of reconciliation. It would be in point if he
were to send a few of his most trustworthy people to the west
in order to petition for support by the despatch of a delegation.
In the first instance, however, he was to establish his own
authority with a view to bringing about, in Antioch, a union
of the three parties who favoured the Nicene Creed. Athanasius,
however, was rather deaf in that ear, and sent no representa-
tives to Rome. What he did, on the other hand, was to send
a cleric to Basil, Peter by name, who was one of his helpers,
and who, indeed, at a later date became his own successor.
Basil then drew back somewhat, and now by way of a counter-
move, he sent a certain deacon of Antioch, named Dorotheus,
to Alexandria with letters addressed to Rome. Athanasius was
only asked to give his endorsement to these letters. Basil then
came out into the open, and declared that, in Antioch, Mele-
tius ought of course to be recognized as bishop, and that the
heads of the small sects1 must be made subordinate to him
after suitable compromise. It was to be remembered, too, that
Meletius had been recognized as orthodox by the west, a fact
testified to by the document sent by Silvanus. 2 The Egyptian
bishop required nothing further for him to drop the whole
enterprise. Athanasius regarded Paulinus, the head of a sect,
1 2
cf. Vol. 3, 268f. Basil, ep. 66. 69. 67, and also the plans in ep. 70. 242
24 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

as the only rightful bishop of Antioch; and he hated Meletius.

N o letter of recommendation was given to Dorotheus, and he
had no excuse for going on to R o m e . Meletius had foreseen
this outcome, and had never had the slightest confidence in
Basil's plan, in spite of the fact that the latter had sent Doro-
theus to him with an urgent letter. Basil did not allow himself
to be put out of temper. He wrote again and again to Athana-
sius. He besought him to take the initiative himself, and address
a letter to him (Basil) as a person of trust, and so do something
towards reconciliation with "those whose faith was sound",
i.e., of course, the group centring on Meletius. 1 Athanasius
said never a word. When soon afterwards Basil sent a request
to Meletius to abandon his reluctance, which was doing harm,
and stretch out a friendly hand to the Alexandrians, 2 he met
with no better success.
Meanwhile, several requests came in, from North Italy as
well as from Egypt, for R o m e to take action against the
remnants, still in being, of " A r i a n i s m " , i.e. against those who
held to the council of Rimini. First of all, Ursacius of Singi-
dunum (Belgrade) and Valens of Mursa (Esseg) were con-
demned by Pope Damasus at a synod in R o m e ; then after a
further warning, 3 Auxentius of Milan was included. This last
decree of condemnation was issued by a synod which had
assembled in 372 on Valentinian's orders; its conclusions
therefore received added significance as part of the emperor's
policy for the church—at least as regards theology. Valentinian
was less inclined than his brother to execute those he con-
demned; and Auxentius, though condemned and declared to
be deposed, remained undisturbed in office; he died, still in
possession, in the year 374. T h e eastern delegates. had once
received testimony as to their orthodoxy on the ground that
they had accepted the Nicene Creed. 4 Athanasius must have
been averse to this, because his synod of 362 had required in
addition the recognition of the homoousia of the Holy Spirit.
T h e R o m a n synod called by Damasus used the opportunity,
occasioned by the condemnation of Auxentius and the conclu-
sions of Rimini, to testify to the eastern bishops that R o m e
1 Basil, ep. 80. 82 2 ibid. ep. 89 3 Ä t h a n , ep. ad Afros, 10, 3
4 cf. supra, p. 19
 THE MISSIONS OF SABINUS 25
accepted the homoous\a of all the Trinity, as this doctrine was
implied in the Nicene Creed. Anyone not accepting this view
was to be regarded as outside their communion. 1
T h e document was carried to Athanasius by Sabinus, a
deacon at Milan; and Athanasius immediately sent this
messenger on to Basil. 2 This gave Basil a fresh opening for
trying to put his favourite scheme into operation. This time
he was joined by Meletius, because there was now no need to
go round by Alexandria, although Basil even yet strongly
recommended it. 3 Meletius drew up a document in the name of
32 bishops and addressed it to their peers in Italy and Gaul.
H e went over the ground of Basil's earlier draft and described
the deplorable state of things in the east. H e requested that a
commission should be sent, consisting of as many as possible,
with the object of uniting under the sign of the Nicene Creed
all those now separated who were of like mind. T h e document
from the synod called by Damasus was accepted and agreed. 4
Basil also wrote himself in his own name, and addressed a
note to Valerian of Aquileia as well. 5 T h e n Sabinus, armed
with his important commission, once again set out for the
west: it was probably round about Easter, 373.
H e went in high hope . . . but was grievously disappointed.
As before, R o m e obtained tidings about the east from
Alexandria, and, in Alexandria, the feeling towards Meletius
and his adherents had if possible worsened. Athanasius had
died on M a y 3, 373. O n his death-bed, he had consecrated
Peter, the presbyter, as his successor. 6 A t this point, too, the
other side took a hand. Euzoius of Antioch made contact with
the court, which was resident in that city, and accompanied
by Magnus, the minister of finance, made his journey to
Alexandria. T h e y carried to the prefect of Egypt a rescript of
the emperor's. It ordered the installation of the Arian bishop,
Lucius, 7 and, if it should be necessary, sanctioned the use of
force. Peter took flight to Rome, 8 where his dislike for Meletius

1 Damasus's Confidimus, Coustant epist. pont. p. 487, now in Schwartz,

1936, 19 cf- 1935, '79, n- 120
2 Basil ep. 90, 1 3 cf. ibid. ep. 89
4 ibid. ep. 92 T h e draft, ep. 242 cf. Lietzmann, Apoll. 52
6 ibid. ep. 90. 91 6 hist, aceph. i g 7 vide supra, p. 18, and V o l . 3, 267
8 Socr. 4, 21. 22 Sozom. 6, 19
26 I. JOVIAN, V A L E N T I N IA N , AND VALENS

and his distrust of Basil determined the decisions that Damasus

made. A certain priest belonging to Antioch, Euagrius by
name, had been resident in Italy for the last ten years, and
now wished to return home. H e was chosen as the messenger
of the church at Rome. H e took back to Basil the letters with
which Sabinus had been entrusted, and said they were not
acceptable. Euagrius then placed before Basil a document
for signature. This document had been drawn up in R o m e ;
and when Basil had signed, it was to be returned to R o m e by
the hands of important eastern representatives. Thus a suitable
occasion would be provided for a return visit. 1 Euagrius went
on to Antioch, where, in spite of the desires for peace which
he had expressed orally to Basil, he denied church-fellowship
to Dorotheus, a confidant of Basil's, on the ground that the
former was one of Meletius's deacons. T w o letters from Basil
then arrived at Antioch putting an end to this way of going
on. T h e first letter was addressed to the people of the church,
and laid it down once more that the Nicene Creed, with the
added clause regarding the Holy Spirit, was the only valid
and sufficient confessional basis. T h e formulas propounded by
others—meaning R o m e — w e r e set aside. 2 Euagrius himself
received a letter, couched in cuttingly polite terms, repudiating
all the R o m a n requirements, and containing a censure for his
hostile attitude to Dorotheus. 3 It had become clear to Basil
that Damasus was under Peter's influence, and had no desire
for union with the east.
But Basil was tenacious, and was not prepared to let himself
be discouraged by unfriendly acts, even some of the basest
kind. Basil's friend, Eusebius of Samosata, was arrested in the
spring of 374 and banished to Thrace. Thereupon Basil wrote
once more to " t h e bishops of Gaul and I t a l y " , described the
hardships in pressing terms, and repeated his request that
they should approach Valentinian by diplomatic means. I f
this were impossible, would they send a special delegation? 4
Dorotheus, who had meantime been consecrated priest, took
the letter to R o m e , and brought back the answer, of which a
large portion has survived. 6 In regard to lending help, it said
1 cf. Basil ep. 138, 2 2 ibid. ep. 140 3 ibid. ep. 156 4 ibid. ep. 243
6 F r a g m e n t "ea gratia", Coustant, p. 495 Schwartz 1936, 20
 BASIL'S PATIENCE 27
no more than that they had discussed the question, as Doro-
theus would testify. Then came lengthy dogmatic arguments.
These had to do with an ousia and three "persons" in the
Trinity, the phrase "three hypostases", which Meletius had
accepted, being expressly avoided; confession of the complete
humanity of the Son of God, and homoousia of the Holy Spirit.
It was plain that now in Rome Meletius and his adherents
were once again regarded as heretical on account of their
doctrine of three hypostases. It also followed that Peter had
in practice repudiated the broadminded viewpoint of the
synod of 362. The document, moreover, contained an unex-
pected passage. This passage said that when bishops and
priests were being consecrated, the canonical regulations
must not go unobserved, and mistakes in this respect were not
light matters. This phraseology made it clear to the reader
that Meletius was going to be repudiated again; for, contrary
to the custom of the early church, a custom re-affirmed at
Nicea, 1 he had changed his first see, that at Sebaste, for the
see of Antioch. O f course, translations of this kind had grown
in time to be customary, and to prohibit them would mean
that it was impossible to move a bishop who had made good,
to a more important office. Nevertheless, the law laid down in
the canon remained unchanged. Consequently, in the man-
œuvres for position that took place in the course of church
politics, it gave an enemy a valuable weapon for use against
any bishop who had risen to power and influence in the way
described. And, in fact, frequent use was made of this strata-
gem. It was turned in the present instance against Meletius;
and so, for the third time, Basil was frustrated.
In spite of all, however, he wrote to Rome in the same
sense three years later (377); by now the situation was very
different. The Apollinarians had, in the meantime, really
separated from Meletius's church in Antioch, 2 and had
consecrated their spiritual leader, Vitalis, to the office of
bishop. Apollinaris himself had visited Antioch in 373-4 and
had delivered theological lectures. When Epiphanius of Cyprus
came on a visit, discutions arose which showed up the dubious
character of the Apollinarian doctrine of the Incarnation; and
1 can. JVic. 15 can. Ant. 21 can. Apost. 14 2 cf. V o l . 3, 269, 2 7 i f .
28 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

this cast doubt on the orthodoxy of Vitalis. 1 Then, in the

year 375, Vitalis took the course then fashionable; he set off
to Rome, and returned happily with a letter from Damasus,
which recognized him as orthodox, and commended him to
Paulinus for further negotiations. But soon afterwards, Dama-
sus must have received more exact particulars, for he hastened
to follow up the first letter with a second in which 2 Paulinus
was advised to require Vitalis to sign the Nicene Creed, and
to add a clause acknowledging that the Son of God had had a
human body, a human soul, and a human spirit; and not,
e.g., the divine logos in the place of the human spirit. Vitalis
was unable to grant this point, and so was compelled to dis-
pense with an alliance with Paulinus. But Vitalis made good
use of Damasus's first letter, which testified to his orthodoxy. 3
Paulinus, on the other hand, had better reasons for exultation,
for both these letters from the pope of Rome testified to his
own orthodoxy, a view which was by no means unquestioned
by the other eastern bishops. T h e letters also brought out the
important fact that Rome recognized him alone as the bishop
of Antioch. He too, therefore, made no delay, but imparted
this information to Terentius, the newly appointed Comes
Orientis; and he requested him, quite logically, to put the
pastorless flock of the exiled Meletius under his care. All this
made a great impression on His Excellency, with thé result
that Basil saw all his plans endangered. Fortunately, Basil
was already well acquainted with Terentius, whom he now
seriously warned against Paulinus, the "Sabellian", and whom
he had to instruct in matters under discussion in theology,
especially the difference between ousia and hypostasis.*
Dorotheus, the confidant of Basil, set out once more for
R o m e in the spring of 377, in spite of the express misgivings
of his senior. On this occasion, he was directly commissioned
by Eusebius, the exiled bishop of Samosata, and was accom-
panied by a certain Sanctissimus, otherwise unknown, who
had no official status in travelling from one bishop to another
in the east, but whom even Basil had employed as a messenger. 5
1
Epiph. haer. 77, 20-24 Lietzmann, Apoll. 1, i6ff.
2
Damasus epist. "per Jilium" Coustant, p. 507
3 4
Greg. Naz. epist. 102 (2, 94c) Basil ep. 2 1 4 cf. 2 1 5 . 2 1 6
5
ibid. ep. 239, 2 cf. ep. 120. 1 2 1 . 129, 3 1 3 2 . 254. 255
 D O R O T H E U S A N D SANCTISSIMUS 29
O n c e again, even this j o u r n e y proved fruitless. O n c e more,
Peter of A l e x a n d r i a stood in the w a y of an agreement. T h e r e
was, indeed, a heated argument, in the presence of Damasus,
in w h i c h Peter described both Eusebius of Samosata and also
Meletius as A r i a n heretics. T h i s provoked Dorotheus to
heated and unfriendly replies. 1 T h e two messengers h a d
answers placed in their hands, from w h i c h Basil politely said
he had d r a w n encouragement, 2 but it is not possible for us
to say on w h a t grounds. Perhaps the answers contained a
fairly pointed remark about tolerating A p o l l i n a r i a n heresies
on the part of the eastern bishops. 3
A t this point, Basil decided to a b a n d o n the reserve w h i c h
he had concealed under v a g u e phraseology, and proclaim
clearly w h a t were the requirements of the east. I n the new
call to a synod, 4 w h i c h was p r o b a b l y forwarded to R o m e in
the spring of 377 b y the hands of Dorotheus and Sanctissimus,
the west were requested, if they did not wish to attend person-
ally, to lend their aid in a positive manner and in writing.
W o u l d they, at a representative synod, single out and con-
d e m n the mischief-makers in the east, w i t h explicit mention
of names? F o r the main danger was not constituted b y the
Arians w h o m all repudiated, but, rather, the wolves in sheep's
clothing w h o h a d come forward out of the ranks of the ortho-
dox. Examples were Eustathius of Sebaste with his denial of
the homoousia of the H o l y Spirit; Apollinaris of L a o d i c e a w i t h
his doctrine of the Incarnation, together w i t h m a n y other
philosophical speculations and J u d a i z i n g doctrines; and
Paulinus of A n t i o c h , w h o h a d once more shown his leaning
towards the heresies of Marcellus of A n c y r a (who h a d recently
died) b y recognizing his c h u r c h in G a l a t i a .
It is unlikely that Basil h a d any doubt that the west would
refuse to accede to his request. A t any rate, as long as Peter
had the ear of Damasus, Paulinus w o u l d be regarded with
favour in R o m e . T h i s was more particularly the case since
that same Peter h a d taken an active part in w h a t h a p p e n e d
1 Basil ep. 266, 2 2 ibid. ep. 263, 1
3 If the fragment "illud sane" is part of this answer A t the beginning the
correct reading is " v e s t r o s " (Coustant, p. 498 Schwartz 1936, 2 1 ,
N o . 3 cf. Z N W , 1935, 186, N o . 138)
4 Basil ep. 263
30 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

to the church in Galatia. 1 Nothing, therefore, came of the

whole business that would have accorded with Basil's wishes.
T r u e , a synod was held in R o m e , and it reached conclusions 2
on those doctrines which were troubling the east, decisions,
indeed, which were all to Basil's mind. But as regards the
question of personalities, which was Basil's principal concern,
the synod was quite silent, or even worse. Although they
solemnly anathematized the heresies which Basil had c i t e d —
and many others—there was no mention of any of the names
w h i c h were debated in the east. Instead, there was an observa-
tion touching the canon law, and repudiating fellowship with
people who moved across from one church to another—Meletius
was meant. Such persons ought to return to their former
office; and, should it turn out that they had been ordained
there in the place of someone who was still alive, they should
quietly stand aside till the death of their predecessor, before
they exercised episcopal functions. This phraseology had been
chosen so as to suit the case of Meletius, and demanded nothing
less than that Meletius should return to Sebaste, and become
subordinate to the very Eustathius for whose condemnation
Basil had asked. A covering letter assured Basil that unfor-
tunately it had not been possible to be of the smallest assistance
to the eastern bishops; but it only confirmed that they had
refused to meet his wishes. Damasus remained completely
loyal to the traditional policy of co-operation with Alexandria,
and he left the east to its own devices. A t the same time, it
became clear that he did not grant that the men of the east
stood on the same level as himself; that explains the offensive
form in which he expressed his refusals.
T h e various approaches had cost Basil the greatest self-
command, and he used bitter words to characterize the
arrogance and the superciliousness of the west, an arrogance
which had increased with his own politeness. 3 Moreover, his
last letter to Damasus was itself the result of much bitter
experience. Basil regarded Eustathius, 4 in his sixties, as a
1 Basil ep. 266, 1
2 The document is given in Turner, Mon. 1, 283-94; discussion by Schwartz,
ZNW, 1935, 189-92 For Damasus's writing, "non nobis", cf. ZNW, 1936, 22f.
Coustant, p. 499
3 Basil ep. 239, 2 4 F. Loofs, Eustathius v. Sebaste, 1898, 68ff.
 DEATH OF BASIL 31
highly revered friend, and one who inspired him with his
ascetic ideal of life. It was only after differences regarding the
theology of the Holy Spirit had led to their being on opposite
sides in regard to church policy, and after Eustathius had
publicly attacked his old friend in certain indiscreet published
writings, that they parted altogether. Basil's letters reflect the
wrath of an insulted man; and it was an official announcement
of an irreconcilable breach, when Basil wrote Damasus and
charged Eustathius with heresy. Apollinaris was another
person whom Basil had once held in high esteem, an esteem
which the new doctrine of the Incarnation had done little to
disturb. But in the "seventies" of that century, the Apollinarians
began a powerful propaganda. They were self-confident; they
installed their own bishops; they declared those who differed
from them to be heretics; and they endangered the unity of
the church which, in any case, was in rather a delicate state.
Thus it could not appear otherwise to Basil, who had always
been the protagonist of peace and reconciliation, than that
Apollinaris was a pernicious person. 1 That Paulinus should
have been recognized, in Rome and Alexandria, as the bishop
of Antioch was the greatest hindrance to that unity of the east
which had been sought under Meletius. Thus it would not seem
to Basil to be altogether regrettable when the church at
Ancyra, which, under Marcellus, had been more than suspected
of heresy, was so rapidly recognized by Paulinus. Towards this
event, effective assistance2 had been given by eleven Egyptian
bishops who had been banished to Diocaesarea in Palestine
(Sephoris near Nazareth) on account of their hostility to
Lucius the Arian bishop of Alexandria. This assistance had
given much offence, but it offered the opportunity to accuse
Paulinus of leaning towards the heresy of Marcellus, and thus
to assail him with threats from the standpoint of theology.
But what purpose was being served? Rome continued in
refusing to bend, Alexandria remained obstinate, and Paulinus
felt himself beyond attack. Basil had been unsuccessful in
striving for the olive branch in this world, and only found
peace at last beyond the grave. He died on J a n u a r y 1, 379—
shor tly before the victory of the cause he had espoused.
1 2
Lietzmann, Apoll., i, 20-24 Basil ep. 265, 3 Facundus pro def. trium cap. 4, 2
32 I. JOVIAN, VALENTINI AN, AND VALENS

Meanwhile further events had taken place in the outside

world which paid little attention to the conflicts and concerns
of ecclesiastics. Weightier matters were afoot: the racial
migrations had begun. Since the time of the victory won by
Constantius in 332,1 the Goths settled north of the Danube
had kept the terms of the peace treaty, and entered into a
friendly relation with the Roman Empire; they had rendered
the services for which they were asked: protected the'frontier
and supplied auxiliaries. Even before this period, Christianity
had penetrated among them—and of this we shall speak in
another connection—but was regarded with mistrust from
many sides, just because it had come from the Roman Empire.
As early as the year 348, Athanarich, the "judge" of the
West Goths, had persecuted the Christians among his people,
and had compelled Wulfila, their bishop, to flee across the
Danube with his adherents, and put himself and them under
Roman protection. They settled in the region between Svistov
and Trnovo in modern Bulgaria. 2
The war which Valens fought with the Goths, 3 and which
cannot be called unavoidable, put an end to the peace which
had lasted more than thirty years, and added fuel to the fires
of racial hatred.
The first result of the tension was the wild outbreak of a
passion for persecuting the Goths who had become Christian
in the area ruled by Athanarich; but it met with unexpected
resistance. Frithigern became the first leader of the oppressed
section of the people, and, in alliance with the Romans, won
their independence from Athanarich. This did not mean peace,
however. The Huns, who were Mongolian horsemen from the
region of the Ural mountains, began to press westwards; they
conquered the Alans, a tribe related to the Sarmatians, and
drove the East Goths into Bessarabia, except those whom they
made their subjects. Their assault fell at this stage on the West
Goths and broke them to pieces. Athanarich retired towards
Transylvania, but the greater part of the people appeared
across the Danube under Frithigern, and asked to be accepted
1 cf. Vol. 3, 137 For further details, cf. Seeck, Untergang, 5, 84-121, and
compare with the sources cited on pp. 461-77
2 Jordanes, Getica, 367 cf. Philostorg. 2, 5, p. 18, 10 Parm.
3 vide supra, p. 19
 GOTHIC WAR 33
into t h e R o m a n confines. T h e i r o b j e c t was to settle in T h r a c e ,
i.e. eastern B u l g a r i a .
Y a l e n s , resident at that time in A n t i o c h , g l a d l y a g r e e d to
h a v e s u c h w a r l i k e G e r m a n i c frontierguards e n c a m p e d w h e r e
they w o u l d p r o t e c t the c a p i t a l o f his e m p i r e , a n d g a v e orders
a c c o r d i n g l y . B u t the generals in c o m m a n d o f the m i l i t a r y
forces o f the southern region o f the D a n u b e d e l a y e d in g i v i n g
effect to these orders, a n d used the distress o f t h e f a m i s h e d
p e o p l e for their o w n personal a d v a n t a g e . T h e d e l a y w a s l o n g
e n o u g h to cause hesitation on the p a r t of these p e o p l e w h o
w e r e essentially high-spirited a n d a g r e e a b l e . A d d e d to it all,
t h e E a s t G o t h s n o w a p p e a r e d on the banks o f t h e D a n u b e a n d
forced a crossing. A final piece o f m a l i c e o n t h e p a r t o f L u p i -
cinus, t h e comes, set o f f the explosion. A t the b e g i n n i n g o f 3 7 7 ,
F r i t h i g e r n o p e n e d the racial w a r , d e f e a t e d t h e troops o f
L u p i c i n u s , a n d g a v e r e i n to the s a v a g e p l u n d e r i n g o f T h r a c e .
T h e a r m y w h i c h V a l e n s sent m a n a g e d to d r i v e the G o t h s
o v e r t h e B a l k a n m o u n t a i n s into the region b y the estuary o f
t h e D a n u b e , a n d a f t e r w a r d s to r e n d e r at least the passes in
t h e B a l k a n s secure. F r i t h i g e r n ' s reply, h o w e v e r , consisted o f
t a k i n g t h e most e x t r e m e measures: he c a m e t o terms w i t h t h e
H u n s a n d t h e A l a n s , a n d sent hordes o f their w i l d h o r s e m e n
a g a i n s t t h e R o m a n r e a r . T h e passes h a d to b e e v a c u a t e d , a n d
c a m e a g a i n into possession o f the Goths. T h r a c e w a s flooded
a n e w w i t h masses o u t for loot. O n c e a n d for all, the R o m a n
f r o n t i e r o n the D a n u b e h a d b e e n b r o k e n t h r o u g h , a n d t h e
f o l k - m i g r a t i o n p o u r e d t h r o u g h the b r e a c h .
W h e n t h e w a r in T h r a c e h a d lasted for o v e r a y e a r , w i t h
the s i t u a t i o n c o n t i n u a l l y worsening for the e m p i r e , it w a s h i g h
t i m e f o r V a l e n s to g a t h e r together all his forces for d e f e n c e .
A n o t h e r t h i n g o f w h i c h he n o w p e r c e i v e d the i m p o r t a n c e w a s
a c h u r c h a t p e a c e ; t o w a r d s the end o f 3 7 7 , therefore, h e
a b o l i s h e d t h e pains a n d penalties imposed o n the o p p o s i n g
c l e r g y . 1 I n M a y , A.D. 378, he w i t h d r e w into C o n s t a n t i n o p l e
w i t h t h e eastern a r m y , w h i c h h a d b e e n fighting against t h e
P e r s i a n s . H e n e g o t i a t e d w i t h G r a t i a n , the y o u t h f u l son a n d
s u c c e s s o r o f V a l e n t i n i a n , w h o h a d died in 375, a n d f o u n d h i m

1 Rutin. H.E. 11, 13 Jerome, Chron. 01. 289, 2 Chron. Edess. 33 Socr.
H.E. 4, 38
C
34 I- JOVIAN, VALENTINIAN, AND VALENS

willing to help. Battles on the Rhine delayed the despatch of

the promised troops, but they arrived, nevertheless, during the
summer. Meanwhile, Valens had grown impatient, and on
August 9, 378, he went into the attack at Nike 1 near Adrian-
ople. But it was to Frithigern's good fortune, for his West
Goths had been strengthened by East Goths and Alans.
The Romans were completely defeated and put to flight.
The two 'commanding generals fell in battle, and Valens
received a mortal wound from an arrow. His body was never
found.
1 cf. Vol. 3, 228
 Chapter Two

THEODOSIUS I AND THE END OF THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY

W HEN GRATIAN RECEIVED NEWS OF THE SERIOUS MILITARY

situation, and then of the death of his uncle the emperor,
he began to advance, taking the direction towards S i r m i u m
(Mitrovitza, to the west of Belgrade). R e m a i n i n g there for the
autumn and winter, and till M a r c h of the following year, he
strove with all his might to ward off the threatening calamity.
T h e commander-in-chief in the east was also anxious to help,
and, on a certain day, killed off all the Goths serving in the
eastern regiments. T h i s weakened considerably the striking
power of the army, but the act was regarded with indifference
by the free Goths. Gratian saw at once that he could not do
anything in this connection without neglecting dangers
threatening other quarters in his own share of the empire.
H e therefore called Theodosius to court, a young m a n w h o
had already made a brilliant reputation as a regimental com-
mander, and made him supreme commander. Theodosius
was then sent by Gratian on a military expedition in the region
to the south of the D a n u b e , and was most successful. A f t e r
this test, Gratian raised him, on J a n u a r y 19, 379, to be the
Augustus of the east; and gave him the necessary plenipoten-
tiary authority to w a g e w a r independently in that part of the
B a l k a n peninsula which belonged to the western empire.
Theodosius was a Spaniard by birth. His father, of the same
n a m e , 1 had been a successful general in wars in Britain and
A f r i c a , and regarded by Valentinian with the highest esteem.
B u t he became the victim of spite at court, and was executed
at C a r t h a g e in the beginning of 376. T h e son thereupon took
his departure, and retired to the family estate in Spain. N o w ,
at the age of 33, he was back on the centre of the stage of
affairs, and found himself face to face with an extraordinarily
difficult, indeed really insoluble problem. For it was impossible
to re-establish the frontier on the D a n u b e , and the g a p here
1 Pauly-Wissowa-Kroll, II, 5, 1937, No. 9
36 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

remained wide open to the racial migrations. A n attempt

might be made, however, to settle the Goths in the lower
Danube basin, arrange favourable terms, and appoint them
as guards in the service of the empire. 1 Theodosius carried
out this plan successfully; the w a y was then open to continue
the policy which had been largely followed since Constantine,
viz. to enlist the excess forces of
1
the barbarians,' and make
them available for filling the complement of the R o m a n army;
and this project, again, was abundantly successful. I n particu-
lar, about this time, Egypt was full of Germanic and Sarmatian
regiments, and, in exchange, trustworthy Egyptian troops were
transferred to the Danube. 2 Negotiations were entered into
with Frithigern's Goths, who had seeped through and pene-
trated into the middle of Greece; by the end of October an
agreement was reached. Athanarich, even as early as January
381, had gone to Constantinople, but had died in that very
month. H e received a splendid funeral after the R o m a n
manner, 3 a fact which gave graphic expression to the emperor's
political objectives.
If we take the overwhelming circumstances into account,
we can see that this was the only possible outcome. T h e great
racial migration was brought to a standstill, for the last time
and for a space of thirteen years, i.e. till the death of Theodosius.
It is probably true to say that the emperor and the inhabitants
of the eastern empire made good use of this interval. Gratian's
first concern at that time, even after the catastrophe of Valens, 4
had been for the church. He was well aware how his uncle
had oppressed the Christians in the east; and therefore, even
before promoting Theodosius, he issued a decree from Sirm-
ium. This decree permitted all exiled bishops to return home,
proclaimed complete freedom of worship for all except the
Manicheans and the adherents of Photinus 6 and of Eunomius, 6
i.e. Sabellians and Arians. 7
T h e effect, however, was not to overcome but to sanction
1 M o m m s e n , Ges. Schr. 6, 2 2 7 - 3 0
2 Zosim. 4, 30 References in Seeck, Untergang, 5, 482f. M o m m s e n , Ges. Schr.
6, 2 8 i f .
3 A m . M a r c . 27, 5, 10 Z o s i m . 4, 34, 5 4 vide supra, p. 32ff.
6 V o l . 3, 209f. 8 V o l . 3, 2i8f.
7 Socr., 5, 2, 1 S o z o m . 7, 1, 3 cf. Cod. Theod. 16, 5, 5 line i i , M o m m s e n
 THEODOSIUS UNITES THE CHURCH 37

the divisions in the eastern church; and this fact was apparent
immediately in the proclamations of the various synods.1 This
created an impossible state of affairs if ever the idea of a united
established church were to gain ground in the east, such as
was already an actuality in the west, except for the Donatists
in Africa. Moreover, such an idea was of importance to the
state no less than to the church. Basil had perceived that its
own resources were not sufficient to enable the eastern church
to reach unity, and had therefore turned for help to the west.
His efforts had been in vain. A t this juncture, Theodosius
solved the problem, and did so in ways closely related to those
advocated by Basil. He ordained, 2 probably as early as
February 28, 380, that all his subjects should adhere to the
religion preached by the Apostle Peter to the Romans; in
particular, the form confessed by Pope Damasus and by Peter,
bishop of Alexandria. This form declared, "We believe in
one Godhead, and in the equal majesty of the Trinity: Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit." All who held other beliefs were branded
as heretics, and threatened with punishments by the state as
well as those of a supernatural kind. Since the time when
Eustathius had made his journey to Rome, 3 the eastern bishops
had grown accustomed to regard the bishop of Rome as an
impartial and authoritative arbitrator in matters of faith.
Theodosius could therefore count on assent when he named
Damasus. He took the western standpoint when considering
the issue of the church, and regarded the Nicene Creed and
the apostolic authority of Rome as axiomatic. And when he
looked at the east it was from the standpoint of the west, as is
plain when he named Bishop Peter as the second guarantor of
the faith, for Peter had been the greatest stumbling block in
the way of all efforts to attain unity. In fact, during the time
of the war with the Goths, he had returned home to Alexandria 4
with a testimonial from Damasus, and had immediately
decided on a vigorous prosecution of his own special policy.
The situation was genuinely dangerous, but the danger
was nipped in the bud by the clever way in which Meletius
1 vide infra, 5gf.
2 Cod. Theod. 16, i , 2 S o z o m . 7, 4, 5. 6 S c h w a r t z , ZffW, 1935, 196, prefers
a different date
3 vide supra, p. i8f. 4 Socr. 4, 37, 1. Sozom. 6, 39, 1
38 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

immediately intervened. Gratian's edict of tolerance had

enabled him to return home to Antioch, where the " o r t h o d o x "
church at once accepted his leadership. Sapor, the imperial
commissioner, and the one responsible for the oversight of
c h u r c h affairs, recognized h i m as the legitimate bishop.
Paulinus then had no alternative to accepting the arrangement
proposed by Meletius. Retaining the title of bishop, he b e c a m e
the pastor of his o w n church and congregation, and recognized
Meletius as bishop of the see of Antioch. H e attempted to
enlist the intermediation of R o m e , however, in order to ensure
at least his claim to the succession in case of Meletius's death. 1
I n the meantime, Meletius was very m u c h alive, and proceeded
to take in hand the leadership of church affairs, not only in
A n t i o c h , but also the entire east. E v e n by autumn, A.D. 379,
he had gathered a synod which was attended b y 153 bishops.
T h i s synod documented the agreement of the bishops with the
western faith as represented b y Damasus; and did so b y
re-asserting the decree, 2 Confidimus, of the synod at R o m e in
the year 372, which had once been sent b y Athanasius to Basil.
T h e y also re-asserted a few later pronouncements. A l l this
was the best that could be done at first to meet the require-
ments of the emperor's rescript of F e b r u a r y , 380. W h e n the
Nicene Creed was accepted together with the homoousia of the
H o l y Spirit, the importance for theology was that all A r i a n
and semi-Arian formulas, together with Apollinarianism, h a d
been repudiated.
I n this w a y , the affairs of two of the great dioceses—later
called patriarchates—were properly constituted; the third,
that of Constantinople, the capital of the empire, still remained
unaffected. Here, for 40 years, the emperor's direction of
c h u r c h policy had been determinative for the bishop and his
people. Demophilus, the bishop now in office, had previously
acted for Constantius as bishop of Beroea in M a c e d o n i a . 3 It
was plain that he would be unable to j oin in the new approach
to the Nicene Creed. In view of coming events, the Neo-Nicen-
eans chose their best theologian and orator, G r e g o r y of
1 cf. Ambrose, ep. 12, 6
2 vide supra, 24 T h e text is given by Schwartz, -^JVM7, 1936, 19-23; compare
1 5 - 1 6 Probably 1935, 199 is more nearly correct
3 V o l . 3, 224 cf. Philostorg. 9, 14
 GREGORY IN CONSTANTINOPLE 39

Nazianzus, a friend of Basil's, and sent him to the capital

commissioned to build up a church; as the head of this church
he would be able to claim the bishopric when it became vacant.
He accepted the mission; but, in his case, we are probably
justified in believing his assurances that he did so unwillingly. 1
Unlike Basil, he was not given to public life. Once on a time,
when in the throes of the struggle for metropolitan authority
in Cappadocia, Basil had ordained him as bishop of a tiny
place called Sasima. Tempers rose seriously. Angered by the
suggestion, he refused the task, did not enter on office, but
fled and sought solitude in the mountains. At a later date, he
had come to the assistance of his father in Nazianzus, where
he was bishop. After his father's death, he managed to evade
the appointment as successor, and withdrew to Seleukia in
Cilicia. The call to Constantinople faced him anew with the
question whether to abandon his life of leisure as a contempla-
tive; and, on this occasion, the task ahead seemed so suited
to his brilliant abilities that he overcame his hesitation and
agreed.
In that great city, only a diminutive, out-of-the-way church
could be placed at his disposal. This was the Anastasia, or
Church of the Resurrection, which only at a later date was
rebuilt in splendid proportions. 2 Naturally, too, the congrega-
tion which held to the Nicene Creed was, at first, very small. 3
As a consequence, the first stages were not easy. The great
city-congregation remained loyal to Demophilus, their bishop;
and on a certain day, Gregory had a dire experience. A rabble
of monks and beggars, who depended on the bishop for their
livelihood, attacked him while he was conducting service, and
a hail of stones, flung by the incensed defenders of the faith,
fell beyond him upon the altar and the sacred vessels and
ornaments. Insult was added to injury when he was blamed
for the entire disturbance; and, in fact, he needed all his well-
trained readiness in speech to defend himself before the police
authorities.4 Matters went so far that the baser women, in a
1 Greg. carm. de vita sua, v. 596. 607 (2, 704. 706 ed. Bened.)
2 Alfons M a r i a Schneider, Byzanz (1936), 5 i f . T o - d a y the mosque of M e h m e d
Sakollu Pasha, near to the round end of the hippodrome, stands on its ruins
3 Greg. or. 33, 1 42, 2 carm de vita, v. 587-89, p. 704
* ibid. carm. de vita, v . 6 5 2 - 7 8 (2, 7 1 0 ) epist. 7 7 , 1 (2, 66)
40 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

rage of fanaticism, broke into actual attacks on him. 1 It

scarcely requires to be said that Gregory was thoroughly
despised for his obvious defects: his unimpressive personal
appearance, his shabby clothes, his provincial bearing, and
his poverty. 2
But all this was to count as nothing compared with his
astonishing powers of speech, which drew even his critics into
his church, and steadily increased the number of his hearers.
In dark days later on, the memory of his success as a preacher
in the Church of the Resurrection was a comfort and a conso-
lation. 3 O f the addresses which he delivered during that period,
a large number have survived. T h e y reveal splendour in
phraseology, rhythm in construction, as well as great care in
the theology and even in the philosophy of the argument. Most
worthy of note are the famous five "Theological Addresses"
against the Arians. T h e y are skilfully planned; the problem of
the Trinity is developed in an orderly manner; the reader is
stirred by the graphic character of the sermon on the innate
idea of G o d ; and by the penetrating dialectic with which he
discusses the doctrine of the Logos . . . all these features supply
unrivalled examples of an oratory which made the highest
effects on the hearers. Moreover, this was the very thing that
could be appreciated in Constantinople. Now, and for more
than 50 years, the best speakers had trained the people and
made them highly expectant. O n the other hand, questions
of dogma had become the favourite topics of conversation,
not only in the salons of the upper classes, but also in the
shops of the bakers and the money-changers, and in the baths
and the bazaars. 4 Gregory was happy in his increasing success.
He could reckon it a certainty that his position would be
ultimately confirmed and that he would be promoted to become
bishop of Constantinople. This would take place as soon as
Theodosius had come into residence and the general position
of the eastern church had been made clear.
In the meantime, a Christian philosopher, Maximus by

1 G r e g . or. 35, 3 - 4 33, 5 2 ibid. or. 33, 7. 8

3 ibid., carm. hist., N o . 16, somnium de Anastasia 1 - 4 7 , p. 8 4 1 - 4 6 cf. carm de
vita, I079ff., i i 2 6 f f . , p. 730-32 or. 23, 5
4 ibid. Nyssa, or. de deitatefilii et spir. sanct. 3, 466, ed. Paris
 MAXIMUS THE PHILOSOPHER 41

name, had arrived in Constantinople. 1 He had formerly been

a member of the Nicene party in Alexandria, his birthplace,
and had suffered exile as a consequence. He now joined himself
to Gregory. The latter regarded the conceited coxcomb as a
person of some consequence, with his coloured hair, his mantle
and stick of cynic fashion, and his smooth way of speaking.
Gregory went so far, indeed, as to commend him to his church,
in a panegyric one Holy day, 2 as the pattern of a complete
philosopher and a martyr of the true faith. And then, to
Gregory's pained astonishment, a certain Egyptian who had
unexpectedly come to the city suddenly, one evening, conse-
crated this man bishop of Constantinople. A t the back of the
malicious bit of work was Peter of Alexandria, who had been
enviously observing Gregory's growing prestige. Peter preferred
a creature indebted to himself on the episcopal throne of the
capital, rather than that it should go to a supporter of the
hateful Meletius. The coup created a great sensation, and
Maximus left the city with all haste; but he only went as
far as Thessalonica, there to beg the emperor to recognize his
installation; naturally, in vain. The disillusioned pretender
then went to Alexandria to his sponsor, and there were stormy
scenes. In the end the prefect, taking precautions, expelled
him from the city as a disturber of the peace. For Gregory,
the whole episode was extremely painful, especially seeing that
his own rhetorical commendation of Maximus was still fresh
in popular memory. A t the first shock, he wanted to resign
his position, but the pressing requests of his church proved to
him that he had not lost the confidence of his own people. 3
A t this point, the great change took place in Constantinople
itself. Theodosius entered the capital on November 24, 380.
Bishop Demophilus was confronted with the question whether
he would submit to the emperor's decree regarding the faith;
and he gave a negative answer. He left the city on November
26, followed, among others, by that Lucius who had once
been bishop of Alexandria. 4 The emperor graciously received
Gregory in audience, and appointed him to the cathedral

1 G r e g o i / ' s record in carm, de vita, v. 750-1056

2 G r e g . or. 25 cf. J e r o m e vir inl., 117
3 Or. 26 dates from this period 4 vide supra, p. 25
42 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

church of the city, the C h u r c h of the Apostles, 1 in place of his

modest chapel. Theodosius went so far as to a c c o m p a n y h i m
personally in solemn procession to the sacred building. T h e
Nicene party, w h i c h had assembled there in congregation,
demanded the bishop's throne for G r e g o r y in scenes of tumul-
tuous acclaim. Outside, however, the p o p u l a c e surged in front
of the ranks of soldiers protecting the church and the proces-
sion, and shouted their disappointment at the deposition of
Demophilus; all the streets and squares re-echoed with com-
plaints at the loss of the old customs of the church. H a t r e d
for Gregory was so fierce that plans were seriously m a d e to
assassinate him. 2 Theodosius, on the other hand, continued
on his w a y unruffled; Gregory kept discreetly in the back-
ground, and took pains to make friends even a m o n g the
opposite party.
Meletius came to Constantinople in the meantime. H a v i n g
ridded Antioch of the schism, he was the most influential
person in the east, and was now making vigorous use of his
opportunities. H e felt that the neo-orthodoxy of the east h a d
been compelled long enough to bow to the west and to bear
with the whims of Peter of Alexandria. A l r e a d y the movement
was a force which had to be reckoned with in its own right,
and was able to arrange its affairs according to its o w n will.
A new law, promulgated on J a n u a r y 10, 381, declared that
all dioceses, without exception, were to be handed over to
orthodox bishops, and that heretics were no longer to be
allowed to conduct public worship. A person was defined as
orthodox if he confessed G o d and Christ according to the
Nicene formula, and did not offend b y denying the H o l y
Spirit; in addition he must accept, in the right sense, the
undivided nature, ousia, of the Trinity. Less than twelve
months before this date, Theodosius h a d regarded the popes
of R o m e and A l e x a n d r i a as the guarantors of orthodoxy; but,
b y now, he had learned to look at questions of faith from the
eastern standpoint, Meletius having been his mentor and guide.
R o u n d about this time, the emperor sent out summonses to

1 Greg. or. 42, 26 carm. in somn. de Anast. (hist. 16) v. 58-59 p. 846 C . Ullmann,
Greg. Naz. (2nd ed., 1867) 153!".
2 ibid. carm. de vita, 1441-72 p. 750
 THE SECOND ECUMENICAL COUNCIL 43

a council of the empire in Constantinople, which was intended

to bring the whole of the confusions of the past once for all
to an end. But, in order to make quite surte, only trustworthy
persons were invited. This principle was now interpreted in
the sense favourable to those who belonged to the circle of
Meletius, or at least, those who, at an earlier date, had stood
by him. The latter conditions applied to those who were known
as the "Macedonians", 36 of whose bishops from the region of
the Dardanelles accepted the invitation. When these bishops
had examined the emperor's requirements more closely, they
insisted, to the dismay of Meletius, on denying the homoousios,
and walked out of the council. Because of their former attitude
to Meletius, none of the bishops from Egypt or from Macedonia
had been invited to the council, which therefore consisted
essentially of bishops from the provinces of Asia Minor, Syria,
and Palestine; according to a later official tradition, they
numbered 150 delegates. 1 The minutes of this synod are not
extant, so that we have to depend on the accounts of the
church historians, incidental records, and canons preserved
in law-books. 2
The first question requiring attention was that of the
appointment to the see of Constantinople. Under the chairman-
ship of Meletius, the synod declared the ordination of Maximus
to be void; 3 Gregory of Nazianzus was then elected. He
accepted, but with many misgivings, in the hope of being
able to bridge the gulf, which was very obvious for all to see,
between east and west.4 But all hopes of agreement were
dashed by the sudden death of Meletius shortly afterwards, a
personal catastrophe, too, for Gregory. For good or ill, he had
to take on the leadership of the synod, a synod whose passions
could not be kept in bounds by brilliant oratory, but only by a
firm hand, such as the sickly Gregory did not possess. The
moment had arrived when the gesture of recognizing the aged
Paulinus as the bishop of Antioch would have affected the

1
Lists have been preserved in the Latin Canons (cf. Labbé, Cone. 2, 955ff.)
but of doubtful value cf. Tillemont, Mémoires, 9, 716, No. 42.
2
Accounts in Socr. 5, 8 Sozom. 7, 7 - 9 Theodoret 5, 6, 3 - 8 , 9 Canons
in L a b b é , Cone. 2, 945ff.
a C a n . 4, 1 5 5 8 - 6 1 p. 754f.
4
G r e g . carm. de vita v. 15148". 1525s". 1 5 3 3 1 5 3 8
44 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

whole of the east, including Egypt which had always been

faithful to Nicea; and the gesture would have acted as a much
needed glacis for fellowship with the west. 1 Gregory was
anxious to seize the opportunity; instead, however, there was
now seen, for the first time, the full measure of the profound
embitterment occasioned by Rome's indifference to the necessi-
ties of the east during the seventh decade of the century. T h e
result was that the hatred felt by the east poured in full flood
on Paulinus when he was advanced by the west and by Egypt
in concert. T h e gesture, which Gregory intended as an act of
reconciliation, was indignantly swept aside, even though he
threatened to resign otherwise. 2 H e fell ill, was unable to leave
the house, and had to abandon the raging tumult to its own
devices.
T h e emperor wished to avoid any increase in the cleavage
between east and west, and was therefore concerned about
Gregory's policy. H e now proceeded to enjoin the presence of
" t h e Egyptians and Macedonians", and ordered them to
attend the synod as soon as possible. Timothy of Alexandria
appeared at the head of these messengers of peace, having
succeeded his brother Peter on the latter's death in the previous
February. Acholius of Thessalonica was associated with him
in the leadership. In Gregory's phrase, they came with a raw
west wind. 3 How raw it was he soon learned in his own person.
For at a much earlier date, Acholius had received private
instructions from Damasus. These were to the effect that, at
the council, if the occasion arose, he should abandon Maximus
as a fraud, but at the same time take care lest Gregory obtained
the see of Constantinople. 4 T h e last remark did not mention
any actual name, but its meaning was made no less clear by
referring to the notorious canon 15 of Nicea. 6 Acholius acted
accordingly.
T h e new peace-makers had scarcely arrived at the council
when the storm blew up against Gregory. His consecration was
declared irregular because he was the bishop of Sasima, and
1 Greg. carm. de vita v. 1611-15 i636f. p. 758f.
2 ibid. carm. de vita v. 1671 p. 762 3 ibid. carm. de vita 1798-1802
4 D a m a s u s , ep. 8, "decursis" p. 535 and ep. 9 p. 539 Coustant Also Ambros.
e P• 1 3J 7 regarding the presence of Acholius
6 vide supra, 26f. Greg. carm. de vita v. 1807-15 p. 770
 ITS CANONS 45
could not transfer to another see. T h e attack was so unexpected
and so violent that Gregory capitulated at once. H e resigned
his office, delivered a beautiful and touching farewell address
to the assembled fathers, 1 and disappeared from church
politics, for which he was indeed unsuited. T h e emperor
nominated a certain Nektarius of Tarsus in Cilicia, 2 a jurist
who was entirely remote from church affairs, and w h o in fact
at that time had not even been baptized. H e was baptized
forthwith, and thereupon unanimously elected and installed.
It may even be true that T i m o t h y of Alexandria was among
those who "laid hands o n " him. 3 T h e bishops of the province
of Syria prima and the eastern dioceses met together, paid no
attention to the justifiable claims of Paulinus, but elected as
bishop of Antioch a certain Flavian, one of the local presbyters.
T o this step Meletius's church agreed. T h e second synod of
Constantinople, which met in A.D. 382, expressly subscribed to
this election. 4
Naturally this way of settling affairs at Antioch was intoler-
able to both R o m e and Alexandria, and now both these
bishops suffered further annoyance by the canons passed on
July 9, 381, by the general council. Canon 3 accorded to the
bishop of Constantinople precedence over all the other eastern
bishops and second only to the bishop of Rome, "because the
former city is the New R o m e " . This implied the repudiation
of a claim long made by Alexandria. If the east really ought to
have a pope, the synod, naturally in consonance with the
emperor, wished to identify him with the bishop of Constantin-
ople. O n the other hand, the feeling in R o m e was to accord
the position of honour rather to Alexandria, on the basis of
their long established relations—and utterly to repudiate the
eastern principle of grading bishoprics according to their
political importance.
T h e second canon had a clear reference to Alexandria. It
repeated the prohibition against bishops meddling in other
dioceses than their own; and it declared that the five eastern
provinces of the empire, Egypt, Oriens, Asia, Pontus, and

1 Greg. or. 42 p. 748-68 2 Socr. 5, 8, 12 Sozom, 7, 8

3 Marcellinus comes in Chron. min. 2, 6 1 , 10
4 Theodoret, 5, 9, 16 Sozom. 7 , 1 1
46 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

T h r a c e , were independent administrative districts for ecclesias-

tical purposes. This was a further statement intended to clarify
a rule (canon 9), which had been agreed at Antioch at an
earlier date; but which only applied to the provinces; 1 it also
affected the application of canon 6 of Nicea which accorded a
more extended authority to Alexandria and Antioch.
These decisions were all unfriendly acts to the allies, Egypt
and Rome, who, on their part, felt that the favourable decrees
regarding the faith did not compensate them for the disabilities
they suffered. This is borne out, in the first instance, by the
details of the pronouncements of the synod, 2 although its
actual minutes have not survived. O n l y a very brief extract
has been preserved in the list of the heretics given in the first
canon, and in the creed known as the Nicene-Constantino-
politan Symbol, which is still used in the R o m a n Mass. It is
a confession of early-church type such as was used in Palestine,
but adapted to the new situation by influences from two
quarters, viz. the formulas of Nicea, and references hostile to
Marcellus of Ancyra and to the Pneumatomachoi. Although
doubts have been expressed in recent years, it may now be
regarded as proved 3 that these pronouncements were officially
decided upon at the present synod. A conclusive argument is
the existence of the Greek collection of texts containing the
canons of the church, 4 preserving the covering letter sent
along with the canons of this synod to the emperor. This letter
requests that the conclusions be ratified because only when
sealed by the emperor would they have the force of law. In so
doing, the synod accepted the idea of a state-church with the
emperor at its head. T h e emperor must have signified his
consent towards the end of July, as is shown by a law bearing
the date, July 30, 381.« This law gives universal validity to the
synod's decrees on faith, as well as to its decisions regarding
appointments to episcopal thrones. Moreover, at an earlier
date, M a y 2 of the same year, the emperor had granted a
unique privilege to his state-church: those members who

1 cf. Vol. 3, 25f. and compare Nicene canon, 4

2 Theodoret, 5, 9, 13 3 E. Schwartz in 1926, 38-88
4 Labbe, Concilia 2, 946 Beneschewitsch, Syntagma 14 titulorum sec. vers, palaeo-
sloven (Petersburg 1906) I, 94
6 Cod. Theod. 16, I, 3
 ITS CANONS 47
became renegades into paganism were to be punished b y
losing the right to m a k e wills. 1 Christianity was n o w the
religion of the state in the full sense of that phrase.
From the theological standpoint, the synod o f Constantinople
was important because the A r i a n controversy was n o w quite
at an end, and the doctrine of the T r i n i t y h a d b e c o m e an
accepted doctrine of the church. A t Nicea, homoousia h a d only
been affirmed w i t h reference to the F a t h e r a n d the Son; but
now, and for the first time, it was expressly asserted t h a t p r a y e r
could be addressed w i t h equal propriety to the H o l y Spirit;
this was one w a y of formulating the theology of the T r i n i t y .
It had taken decades of contention and h a r d thinking before
the east h a d f o u g h t its w a y t h r o u g h to this conclusion, a
conclusion r e a c h e d long before by the west b y their religious
instinct, a n d w i t h o u t any particular difficulty. T h e step that
was crucial in the agreement reached at Constantinople was
taken b y Basil; and w h a t he h a d begun, his friend, G r e g o r y
of N a z i a n z u s , a n d his brother, G r e g o r y of Nyssa, carried
further. I n this w a y , the " C a p p a d o c i a n F a t h e r s " g a v e the
final shape to the G r e e k doctrine of the T r i n i t y , in a f o r m
w h i c h has p r o v e d normative for the theology of the eastern
c h u r c h ever since.
W e h a v e already shown 2 how the synod held at A l e x a n d r i a
in A.D. 362 smoothed the w a y for the union of the different
parties in the c h u r c h . It decided that, granted certain pre-
suppositions, t h e doctrine of three hypostases should be
r e g a r d e d as orthodox equally w i t h the doctrine of one hypo-
stasis or ousia. T h i s was not a theological solution, b u t a
c o m p r o m i s e reached in the interests of ecclesiastical policy.
A solution only b e c a m e possible w h e n the words, hypostasis
a n d ousia,3 were no longer given the same fateful content.
T h e w a y was then open for expressing in a clear f o r m u l a the
i d e a o f the relation between unity and trinity.
I t w a s Basil w h o took this step 4 w h e n he m a d e use of
A r i s t o t e l i a n categories, and declared that ousia m e a n t the
g e n e r a l idea, the genus, but hypostasis the individual idea, the
1 Cod Theod. 16, 7, 1 with explanatory articles 7, 2 and 7, 3 2 V o l . 3, 268
3 c f . the a n a t h e m a s of the Nicene C r e e d
* B a s i l , epist. 38, 2 214, 4 236, 6 F o r a f u n d a m e n t a l discussion o f the w h o l e
p r o b l e m , cf. K H o l l , Amphilochius v. Iconium (1909), I22ff.
48 2. THEODOSIUS AND THE END OF ARIANISM

species. H e w a s fond of using as an illustration: " h u m a n " is

a general i d e a connoting the ousia; whereas the specific i d e a
differentiates the hypostases: Peter, A n d r e w , J o h n ; or P a u l ,
Silvanus, T i m o t h y . E a c h of these persons, considered f r o m the
standpoint of their ousia, is h u m a n , and therefore they are all
homoousiai; e a c h has his ousia. O n the other h a n d , as individual
persons (hypostases), they differ from e a c h other, h a v e their
special traits, a n d their i n d i v i d u a l characteristics w h i c h they
alone possess, a n d w h i c h do not a p p l y to the others. Peter is
n o t A n d r e w , nor is he J o h n . B y this a n a l o g y , w e c a n see that,
f r o m the standpoint of ousia, F a t h e r , Son, a n d Spirit, each is
G o d ; yet the F a t h e r is characterized b y His F a t h e r h o o d , or,
to p u t it negatively, b y being " u n b e g o t t e n " , and therefore is
not the Son or the Spirit; the specific q u a l i t y of the Son is in
b e i n g " b e g o t t e n " ; whereas the appropriate w o r d for the H o l y
Spirit is " s a n c t i f i e d " , or, as G r e g o r y of N a z i a n z u s in particular
e x p l a i n e d it, the H o l y Spirit " p r o c e e d e d " from the Father.
A t first g l a n c e , all looked clear and acceptable, b u t closer
e x a m i n a t i o n laid bare the blot o n the scutcheon. Peter, A n d r e w ,
a n d J o h n w e r e three men, and, b y a n a l o g y , F a t h e r , Son, a n d
Spirit are three gods. T h e opponents' criticism i m m e d i a t e l y
f i x e d on this w e a k place, and the C a p p a d o c i a n s vied w i t h
t h e m in taking pains to deliver their doctrine from the charge
o f tritheism. 1 T h i s could only be done, of course, by calling
in the help o f all possible kinds of artificial devices, w h i c h in
their turn, r o b b e d the f u n d a m e n t a l idea of its original clarity;
a l t h o u g h it must be granted that the discussions produced
m u c h that was splendidly a n d profoundly conceived.
T h e fact is that these thinkers were struggling w i t h a
p r o b l e m t h a t was ultimately insoluble. T h e y were successful
i n attaining their first objective, viz. that there was no whittling
d o w n of the doctrine 2 which rooted in the theology of O r i g e n ,
a n d w h i c h h a d been clearly expressed as far back as the early
Eusebians. T h i s doctrine stated the independent existence of
t h r e e persons in the godhead. But difficulties arose w h e n the
a t t e m p t was m a d e to c o m b i n e this doctrine with faith in the

1 K . Holl, Amphilochius, 142-53, 173-78, 219-20 Important passages are to be

found in G r e g . N a z . or. 31, 19 (p. 568) and Greg. Nyssa, quod non sint tres dii
2 vide V o l . 3, i96f.
 DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY 49
entire oneness of the divine nature, a faith which was rooted
in the old Monarchianism, 1 and which kept coming ever and
again into the forefront with undiminished vigour. T h e
dilemma forced the Cappadocians to adopt formulas and work
out artificial theories which came to lack both clarity and
logic.
Once on a day, the confession of the divine T r i a d had been
a simple way of expressing the experience of Christian men
and women: G o d had revealed Himself to them in creation
as Father; in the redemptive purpose of Jesus Christ, as the
Son; and in the life of the church, as the Holy Spirit. Theo-
logians never ceased trying to restate this subjective experience
of faith, and express it in objective terms borrowed from
philosophy, in order to formulate pronouncements as to the
nature of the godhead. In making this attempt, they were led
by a genuine Greek confidence in the power of human reason
to plumb the very deeps of the divine nature. But the spirit
which, according to Paul (i Cor. 2: 10) penetrates into these
ultimate deeps, is not that of the inquiring philosopher, but
of the Christian believer who has been laid hold of by G o d ;
it is not a human, but a divine spirit. T h e nature of God is
incommensurable by human ways of thought; and, for this
reason, the Greek theology of the Trinity was doomed to
failure. Augustine tried to pave another road for the west.
1 vide V o l . 2, 191 f. Vol. 3, 95, 108

D
 Chapter Three

THE WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN I AND GRATIAN

T HE CHURCH IN THE WEST HAD BEEN

the policy of force adopted by Constantius. Peace was
rapidly restored, however, when Jovian and, more effectively,
BADLY SHAKEN BY

Valentinian gave the sees back to their bishops, and granted

the churches freedom to live their own lives. But scars still
remained, in as far as it could not be denied that many bishops
had been faithless; too many had bowed to the " A r i a n "
decree of the emperor at Rimini, and had chosen to return
home freely rather than to live in exile.
Lucifer of Calaris, at an earlier date, had effectively spoiled
the whole policy of reconciliation. 1 When he now returned,
he brought up accusations against Zosimus, bishop of Naples,
and threatened him with divine judgment. From Sardinia as
his headquarters, he organized resistance against the church
catholic. Although this effort was insignificant, on the whole
it produced a painful impression in some places. He merci-
lessly criticized Hilary, the head of the church in Gaul, although
he had been the most important of those who had fought for
the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity. Hilary thought it diplo-
matic to present him with a copy of his own principal work on
theology, to which he had added explanatory glosses in the
margin, and a copy of which has still survived. 2 At Cordova,
Ossius, who was now in extreme old age, had great difficulty
in defending himself from the attacks of Gregory of Elvira.
Schismatic churches of "Luciferians" were constituted in
several places: in Rome, under a Bishop Ephesius; in Trêves,
under the priest Bonosus; similarly also in Africa: in O x y -
rhynchus (Egypt) and in Eleutheropolis (Palestine, west of
Hebron) where Lucifer had lived in exile, opposition conven-
ticles came into being. Naturally, if opportunity offered, they
were persecuted by the catholic bishops with or without help
1 Vol. 3, 269 2 Karl Holl junr. in his unpublished studies of Hilary
 DAMASUS AND URSINUS 51
from the state. In A.D. 384, two priests, Faustinus and Marcel-
linus, described the sufferings of the sect; 1 the record includes
many miracles in which God showed His will as favourable to
them. A copy was sent to the emperor, Theodosius, who issued
an edict granting tolerance to the little movement, which died
out with its own generation.
Nevertheless, Liberius of Rome had to bear the consequences
of his own defection: the dispute with the opposition pope,
Felix, 2 gave him grievous trouble, and the enmity between
the two men had fateful effects even after the death of Liberius.
Those adherents who remained faithful to him always defended
themselves against Felix, asserting that he had been chosen
in breach of oaths solemnly taken. And when Liberius died,
they refused at first to enter into negotiations, but acted on
their own responsibility; and, in the Basilica J u l i (S. Maria in
Trastevere), they chose Ursinus, a deacon, to be pope. At the
same time, in the church of Lucina (S. Lorenzo in Lucina,
near the Corso), the great majority elected the ambitious
deacon, Damasus, to the throne. The latter was the son of a
Roman cleric, well acquainted from his youth up with all the
relations between city and church. He was also the favourite
of the devout and very wealthy women of the upper classes,
who, in the period after the death of Constantine, began to
play an important part in the church of Rome.
Battle immediately broke out between the two sides in a
manner unheard of before in Rome. The churches became the
castles of the popes. First of all, a rabble retained by Damasus
stormed the Basilica Juli and raged there for three days, while
Damasus himself stayed in the Lateran protected by his guards;
he persuaded Viventius, the city prefect, to expel Ursinus
together with two deacons. But his further desires met with
violent opposition of the crowds who barricaded themselves,
together with the clerics who were endangered, in the church
of Liberius (S. Maria Maggiore). A regular siege then began,
with attack by storm; doors were burst in, and flaming torches
thrown into the building. By the evening of October 26, 366,
one hundred and sixty dead bodies of both sexes lay on the
1
K n o w n as the Libellus precum in the Colleclio Avellana, 2 and 2a
- vide V o l . 3, 2 2 j f .
52 3- T H E WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

ground—the besiegers recorded no losses. Ammianus Marcel-

linus, who also gives an account of the occasion, speaks of
137 bodies. Y e t he says, with a certain irony, that on the whole
it was really worth while for people to act like that; for the
victors in this struggle could assuredly reckon on the great
generosity of the rich ladies, ride about in fine carriages, wear
splendid clothes, and feast like kings. As compared with all
this, the minor provincial bishops were to be regarded as
fortunate; they had no cares, but lived modestly as pure and
honourable worshippers of the eternal G o d . 1 T h e judgment
has a bitter taste, but it is true. Even at that early date, i.e.,
less than a generation after the death of Constantine, we see
how the secularized Christianity of the cities looked in the
eyes of a pagan of good standing. T h e Christian church had
triumphed politically, and thought it could dispense with
further moral conquests. T h e struggle with Ursinus continued
in ding dong fashion, but was now conducted to a greater
extent through the official channels. It began to penetrate
into many other departments; it ended, of course with the
victory of Damasus who disposed of greater material resources,
and who had better social contacts.
Towards the end of Liberius's lifetime, the after-effects of
the anti-Nicene policy of Constantius were definitely traceable,
in the west, only at Milan and in the " I l l y r i a n " frontier
districts of the northern Balkans. Records have survived
telling of the discussions between the "semi-Arians", Ursacius,
Valens, Gaius, Paul, et alii, with Germinius of Sirmium
(Mitrovitza). T h e discussions took place at a synod meeting
in December, A.D. 366, at Singidunum (Belgrade). 2 T h e court
party in this district still felt itself strong. All this was very
disagreeable to the " N i c e n e " bishops in the neighbourhood,
especially in Venice and the alpine districts; and they seemed
to have complained about the situation to the emperor,
Valentinian. T h e emperor ordered that matters should be
investigated at a synod to be held in Rome, with the result
that 93 bishops gathered there under the chairmanship of
Damasus; the precise year, however, cannot now be determined
1 Coll. Aveil. n. I and Am. Marc. 27, 3, 11-14
2 Hilar. 4, 159-64
 THE ILLYRIAN STANDPOINT 53
1
with certainty. They sent a mild reproof to the Illyrians, in
which they declared themselves unwilling to think that there
was any serious intention of heresy; rather it must be that the
true cause of a certain oscillation in holding the faith was
either ignorance of the facts, or a simple-mindedness in under-
standing them. It was for such a reason, indeed, that, once on
a time, even a person like Auxentius of Milan had been
condemned. T h e y went on to point out, on the other hand,
that the Nicene creed, including the doctrine of the homoousia
of the Holy Spirit, was the only criterion of faith; and they
hoped that those bishops who were of another opinion would
be excommunicated; they definitely repudiated the decrees
of Rimini; and they also asked for a reply signifying agreement.
Of course these gentle phrases were of no avail; it had been
similarly useless for those who made complaints about the
condemnation of Auxentius. There was nothing else for it
than that Damasus should " n a m e " the delinquents. A new
synod, therefore, declared the excommunication 'of Ursacius,
Valens, and their associates. Athanasius sent congratulations
to Damasus for what he had done, and this in the name of a
synod in Egypt. A t the same time, he deplored the fact that
Auxentius still had unrestricted possession of the see of Milan.
Athanasius sent word to the church in Africa, in an official
letter from the synod, telling of what he had done. 2 We have
pointed out, in a foregoing chapter, 3 that Valentinian refused
to follow in the ways of Constantius, but allowed Auxentius
to remain for life quietly in possession of his diocese, in spite
of these theological pronouncements against him. When it
came to a question of politics, this emperor brooked no
interference on the part of the bishops.
T h e r e is room for some doubt whether Damasus was, in
fact, greatly interested in affairs that went beyond his concerns
in the city of Rome. He had plenty of anxieties of a domestic
character at the beginning of his pontificate. His calm
indifference, which we have already noted, 4 caused him to
1
T h e document "Confidimus" (Schwartz in £A r H / , 1936, 1 9 - 2 0 ) , but the original
address is given by Theodoret, H.E. 2, 22, 2 = Soz. 6, 23, 7 vide E . Caspar,
Papsttum, I (1930), 593
2 3
Athanasius epist. ad Afros, 10, 3 p. 3 1 7 , Opitz vide supra,
4
vide supra, 26f., 30
54 3- T H E WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

disregard all requests coming from the eastern bishops. His

attitude may well have been due to the fact that he did not
feel himself firmly enough seated in the saddle to conduct a
foreign policy in great style. He therefore contented himself
with proud looks, by which he intended that his real weakness
should be covered up. The fact is that both the Luciferians
and the Donatists had active churches of their own in Rome,
complete with bishops; a state of affairs which was very con-
trary to the mind of pope Damasus. Indeed the adherents of
Ursinus tried to get at him during the street riots by indirect
attacks. Records tell of a criminal charge by a Jew called
Isaac which was due to be heard by the vicarius Maximinus. 1
This was the result of a plot, perhaps in A.D. 370, which origin-
ated among these people. The judge was known as a ruthless
man of action; and he had in fact executed a fairly large
number of the members of the upper class in Rome on a
charge of practising magic. Even in the case of Damasus, he
did' not hesitate to act; he arrested and hanged numerous
clerics. The proceedings might well have gone as far as to
cost Damasus his life, if events had not suddenly taken another
turn: for the emperor intervened in his favour. The blame
then naturally rebounded on the heads of those who had
brought the charges, with the result that Isaac had to go in
exile to Spain. 2 Meanwhile, the pope's reputation suffered a
severe blow.
It is not surprising that outsiders rather despised the autho-
rity of a bishop who was unable to assert himself unchallenged
in his own see. We learn that the bishop of Parma defied the
decree which had deposed him; that the bishop of Puteoli,
who had been dealt with six years earlier, and, at that time,
had vainly appealed to the emperor for help, now quietly
returned and resumed office. The bishop of a see in Africa,
ordered by the emperor to appear for trial before the bishop
of Rome, simply withdrew from the process.
This state of affairs continued year after year until at length
it became intolerable. Towards the end of A.D. 378, a synod3

1 Sceck, Untergang, 5, 18, 17 and the note on p. 430

2 R u f i n , hist. eccl. 1 1 , 1 0 Damasus, epist. 6, 9 Coll. Avell. n. 13, 5
3 F o r the date, cf. Seeck, Regesten, p. 152, 30
 DAMASUS STRENGTHENS HIS POSITION 55

was held in Rome attended by "almost innumerable"

bishops "from various parts of Italy". Damasus submitted
himself to their judgment, with success. Eight years earlier,
he had been declared free from their jurisdiction in legal
matters; and to this was now added, that he was not subject
to the assembly of clerics, even in moral questions. 1 The
synod itself then wrote at length to the emperor, Gratian,
described the diminished respect in which Rome was held,
and prayed the emperor's most gracious intervention. The
assembly requested two decrees, and even went as far as to
make suggestions regarding suitable phraseology, and as to
the principles involved. 2 At an earlier date, as a consequence
of the disturbances centring on Ursinus, it had been laid
down by Valentinian 3 that "the bishop of Rome was to have
the oversight of the priests of the church, to the extent that
the pope and his councillors were to determine questions of
religion". The principle is expressed by another ancient
authority in the form: "in matters of faith and questions
affecting their status, the clergy are to be judged by their own
peers". O n the other hand, it had never been possible to
bring this imperial edict into satisfactory effect, because, as
we have already pointed out, the bishops concerned were
averse to it; and also because the administration betrayed little
eagerness to give it validity by asserting the authority of the
state.
But now, following a request from the Roman synod, the
emperor issued orders to the vicarius Aquilinus; he expressed
his displeasure, in vigorous language and without any polite
and diplomatic phrases, that his commands had not been put
into operation. After making one or two appropriate and
intentional alterations, he now gave the force of law to the
first proposal of the synod: a person deposed by Damasus
and his synod, or by any other general synod, but refusing to
obey, was to be expelled from office by the state. Accused
persons refusing to obey a summons to appear before the
1 D a m a s u s , epist. 6, 10
2D a m . epist. 6 ("et hoc gloriae", p. 523 C o u s t a n t and the answer, epist. 7
p. 530=Cb//. Avell. n. 13 p. 54—58 G i i n t h e r , discussed b y C a s p a r , Zeitschr.f.
Kirchengesch. 47 (1928), 178-202
3 Damasus, ep. 6, 2 A m b r o s e , ep. 21, 2
 T H E
56 3- WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

Roman court, were to be compelled to do so by forces at the

disposal of the state. In the more distant provinces, the metro-
politan was to try his own clerics; but he himself was subject
to the jurisdiction of Rome or of some court appointed by the
pope. A provincial cleric might appeal against the verdict
either to the pope, or to fifteen bishops of a neighbouring
province. It is known expressly that the praetorian prefects
of Italy and Gaul were entrusted with enforcing this decree;
and it follows, therefore, that it applies to the whole of the
western empire, including Britain, Spain, and Africa. T h e
consequence was that the celebrated canon of Serdika, 1
which had hitherto lacked practical effect, was now brought
into sharper focus; and the status of the bishop of Rome was
considerably enhanced. Of course, the Roman synod was well
aware of the implications when it made the proposal to
Gratian, and the proclamation promulgated in the form of an
imperial rescript would now ensure in actual practice that the
supreme court was the pope's. Moreover, it is obvious why
the emperor gave his blessing to the synod's desire; for it
could be nothing but agreeable to the state, cither to have a
clearer definition of the competence of the church, or that
its organization should now be made visible at a glance.
Nevertheless, it was a vain hope, for once again we hear
nothing further of the results which the synod had sought.
The synod made a second request, however, a request
illumined by the scandal of the trial of Isaac. 2 The senators
had the privilege that, when they were tried on capital
charges, their depositions must be laid before the emperor for
a final verdict: the relatio adprincipem.3 In practice, this privilege
was also granted to bishops—at least in important cases—and
it had served to deliver Damasus from the blood-stained
hands of Maximinus.* The synod now proposed that charges
against the pope, which, of course, exceeded the competence
of the spiritual courts, should be possible only if initiated by
the emperor, and should be decided only by him. Although
Gratian did not agree to this proposal, he comforted those
1 2
cf. Vol. 3, 204f. vide supra, p. 54
3
Mommsen, Rom. Strafrecht, 205 Cod. Theod. 9, 1, 13 2, 2 40, 10
4
Dam. ep. 6, 9 The opposite in the case of Priscillian, Sulp. Sever. Chron.
2, 5°. 8
 AMBROSE OF MILAN 57
who put it forward by drawing attention to his natural sense
of justice, and he gave assurances that he would himself see
to the defence of a bishop against charges brought by malicious
persons. Damasus had to be content with this reply; but he
took care that the particular instance in mind did not recur
in his case.
Meanwhile, when Theodosius came to the throne, ecclesias-
tical politics in the eastern empire entered upon a new phase.
After a promising start had been made, the dubious conse-
quences began to appear which followed on the policy of
indifference and arrogance adopted by Damasus. Moreover,
a leaf was now taken from his book by an incomparably
stronger personality, by one, moreover, who, as the personal
adviser of Gratian, stood close to the throne: Ambrose had
come upon the scene. When Auxentius died in Milan in
a . d . 374, there was naturally a severe contest for the succession;
Ambrose, who was resident in Milan as the governor of the
province of Liguria-Aemilia, entered the church to settle the
uproar. He was an energetic governor, honoured and loved
by the people; and he was now chosen bishop amid tumultuous
acclamation. Already a catechumen, he was speedily baptized;
on December 7, 374, he was installed.1 This was the first time
in the west that a member of the upper class of high officials—
for the father of Ambrose had been the praefectus praetorio of
Gaul—had accepted the office of bishop. This fact alone made
a deep impression, but it must be granted that the impression
made by the personality of Ambrose himself was still deeper.
O n an earlier page, we have already seen how, while
Auxentius was still alive, the orthodox bishops of northern
Italy tried to persuade the emperor, Valentinian, to deal
sharply with the Arianism which was dominant in Illyria.
Their efforts were unsuccessful, and resulted in nothing more
than an ecclesiastical condemnation pronounced by the
Roman synod. 2 But now, with the accession of Ambrose, the
Nicene party had found a young and vigorous leader, who
carried the war into the enemy's camp. He gathered in
Sirmium a synod of like-minded delegates, who accepted and
a T h e y e a r is c o n f i r m e d by Jerome, Chron. p. 247, 16 and 2 i f . , H e l m .
2 vide supra, 25f., 52f.
 T H E
58 3- WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

underlined the articles recently formulated in Rome. They

also condemned certain bishops, and informed the brethren
in Asia, Phrygia, and Caria, of their decisions. Why it should
have been these brethren in particular, remains obscure; but
we do know that, in those parts, the opponents of Nicea were
specially active. A further observation to be made is that our
information in regard to the circumstances of the period is
far from complete, and is also dependent, to some extent, on
documents which have been preserved by accident. Even as
regards the synod at Sirmium, our information is derived
partly from the work of Theodoret, a church-historian of the
following century, 1 who reproduces the minutes, many of
which, by the way, are now incomprehensible; and partly
from the incidental remark of a contemporary writer, Maxi-
mums, 2 who relates that Ambrose took a responsible part in
the proceedings. The synod communicated its findings to the
emperor, who immediately sent them to Asia Minor, covered
by a letter of pains and penalties. The record declares that
this emperor was Valentinian, but the assertion is scarcely
credible. Rather the probability is that the decree was promul-
gated by Gratian at a later time; it would be more compre-
hensible at a time when Valens had changed his point of
view; 3 a date about A.D. 377 seems likely.
Valentinian died on November 17, 375, of an apoplectic
seizure occasioned by an ungoverned outburst of temper.
A few days later, his little four-year-old son of the same name
was acclaimed Augustus. The consequence was that Gratian,
the elder brother, who had previously been nominated
Augustus by their father in A.D. 367, became the guardian of
the boy, and thus the ruler of the entire west, Illyria, Mace-
donia, and Greece being included. The new imperial master,
Gratian, was then 16 years of age, and for spiritual guidance
looked to Ausonius, a professor of Bordeaux, whom his father
had appointed to be his tutor. Ausonius, as citizen, orator,
poet, and Christian, conformed to the standards of the time;
he was an educated man skilled in impressing on his young
1
Theodoret, H.E. 4, 7, 6 - 1 1 , 8 Also see Campenhausen, Ambrosius, 32-36,
93-95 J . Zeiller, Les Origines Chrit. dans les prov. Danubiennes (Bibl. des écoles
franc, n. 102, 1918) pp. 310-327
2 3
Maximinus, dissertatio, 128, p. 87, Kauffmann vide supra, 33f.
 GR A T I A N AND PEACE IN THE CHURCH 59

pupil the value of certain things which the royal father had
lacked. T h e young emperor was in Trêves when the news
of Yalentinian's death arrived, and, in a speech composed by
Ausonius, he assured the R o m a n senate of his goodwill. 1
Shortly afterwards, in the province of Gaul, salaries paid by
the state were provided for professors of rhetoric and the classical
languages. 2 About the same time also, 3 a law appears to have
been promulgated, ordering the seizure of heretical places of
worship; but this law was only half-heartedly administered
by the authorities. It seemed as if a new period was opening
in which educated interests and also the life of the church
would receive encouragement and support, and when the
harshness of Valentinian's rule would give place to clemency
and humanity. T h e spirit breathed by Ausonius could be
detected in the words and deeds of the emperor; his name
glittered among those nominated as consuls for A.D. 379, side
b y side with that of a member of the aristocracy. Meantime
also, his relatives, one and all, were advanced into desirable
posts.
When Valens fell near Adrianople, Gratian issued certain
preliminary measures. As we have already indicated, 4 he
ordained peace for most of the parties in the restless church of
the east; and, in extending the scope of the last pardon decreed
by Valens, 6 he allowed the exiled bishops to return home.
Theodosius added to this, and gave clear directions that his
church should conform to the Nicene creed as sealed by the
council of Constantinople in A.D. 3 8 1 . But before the new
ruler began his work, bishops of the former Macedonian party
met in Antioch in Caria, a city from which, eleven years
earlier, a proclamation of an anti-Nicene character h a d been
issued. 6 These bishops spoke with all their old firmness against
homoousios and in favour of komoiousios. A n d this was meant to
be their response to the synod of Sirmium which Ambrose had
inspired.
In the west, meantime, Ambrose, the new bishop of Milan,
had tested his talents, and concluded that he was called to be

1 2
Symmachus, ipist, 1 , 1 3 Cod. Tkeod. 13, 3, 11
3 4
ibid. 16, 5, 4 says "olim" in regard to the year 378 vide supra, 35
6 6
vide supra, 33 vide supra, 19
6o 3. THE WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

a leader in the church's warfare. Ambrose waited on the

emperor G r a t i a n , when the latter was about to depart to the
east in aid of Valens, and was honoured with a commission 1
to draw u p for His Majesty a conspectus of the Christian faith.
This document, which was sent to the emperor in the field,
has come down to us as the first two books of defide. It suggested,
in the conclusion, that the incursion of the Goths into the
country south of the Danube must be regarded as the divine
punishment for the Arian heresy which prevailed there. 2 At
the end of J u l y , A.D. 379, Gratian returned again to Milan;
and there can be no doubt that he granted audiences to
Ambrose for the sake of theological discussions. T h e issue was
a law, signed on August 3, which expressly repealed the
edict of tolerance promulgated at Sirmium, and prohibited as
heretical every form of worship to be found outside the church
catholic. 3
Even before this time, Ambrose had stood in the good graces
of the emperor, and he was now protected from legal proceed-
ings by a pronounced vote of confidence. 4 Thus he gained the
young ruler to the side of his policy for the church, and he
could now use increased powers, with broadened prospects of
success, to root out the Arian heresy in northern Italy and
Illyria. This seemed to him to be entirely necessary, whether
from the standpoint of the church or that of politics. For the
hostility of the Arians to the established church, with its
Nicene character, inevitably caused the Illyrians, i.e. the
inhabitants of the region which, at that time, was most
endangered, to clash with their fellow-believers among the
Goths; and that is apparently what was frequently threatened. 5
We have already described what took place in the first instance
in Sirmium. T h e r e now broke out a fierce literary quarrel with
Palladius, bishop of R a t i a r i a (Artsher, on the bend of the
Danube below V i d i n in Bulgaria), a person whom Ambrose
had mentioned by name, and described as an Arian leader, in
that summary of the faith which he had presented to the
emperor. 8 When attacked, Palladius defended himself; nor
1 2
Ambr. de fide I prol. 3 ibid, de fide 2, 16, 139-41
3 4
Cod. Theod. 16, 5, 5 Ambr. ep. 1,2 Maximin. diss. 84
6
Maxim, diss. 1 3 Coll. Avell. 39, 4 Ambr. ep. 10, gf. defide 2, J6, 140-41
4
Ambr. de fide 1, 6, 45
 SYNODS IN AQUILETA 61

did he refrain from making personal aspersions. 1 Ambrose

then sent to the emperor the next instalment of his polemic
against Arianism, in the form of three more books ( I I I — V )
of his work, de fide.2 Of greater consequence was the resistance
offered by the bishops of northern Italy, led by Ambrose, to
the decision of Damasus rehabilitating Leontius, the deposed
bishop of Salona. T h e y simply refused to agree, and, as far as
the bishops of northern Italy were concerned, the bishop of
Salona, because suspected of Arianism, remained a cursed
heretic. 3
T h e Arian bishop of Sirmium died about this time, and was
succeeded by Anemius, a Nicenean, a candidate put forward
by Ambrose; he was successful on account of the latter's
personal intervention and in spite of the passionate resistance
of Justina, the dowager empress. 4 But the party in the opposite
camp were strong enough to cause Gratian concern, for the
danger from the Goths was by no means overcome. H e there-
fore decided to promise a general council of the empire to the
threatened Illyrians, which the eastern bishops would also be
invited to attend; Aquileia was fixed as the place of meeting.
It would seem that Theodosius, too, thought it would be an
advantage to hold a general council of the church in view of
the contemporary conditions. T h e " A r i a n s " of Illyria, headed
b y Palladius, felt quite happy at the proposal, for they could
rightly count on support for their side from the numerous
persons of similar views in the east, who favoured the formulas
of R i m i n i and Seleukia, formulas regarded b y them as the
best and most satisfactory solution on account of their lack of
theological precision on the question of union.
T h e leaders of the Nicene party, in both east and west,
however, quickly scented danger, and exercised sufficient
political influence to avoid it. Theodosius followed the advice
of Meletius, and invited to his capital a council of his own
consisting of eastern bishops of a pronounced Nicene character.
Gratian-, on his part, was persuaded by Ambrose to make the
synod at Aquileia into a meeting confined to bishops of northern
I t a l y , a n d not to issue invitations to those in other regions.
2
1
fragments in Maxim, diss. 82. 84-87, esp. 84 Ambr. defide3, 1, if.
3 4
Maxim, diss. 125-28 vide infra, 63f. Paulinus, vita Ambr. 11
62 3- T H E WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

Palladius had a personal audience with Gratian in Sirmium,

and was once again assured that the eastern bishops had been
invited. Thereupon, he and his friend, Secundianus (who was
perhaps bishop of Singidunum=Belgrade), travelled to Aqui-
leia, where he perceived, with dismay, that he had been
deceived. T h e only persons who attended were twelve from
northern Italy, five from southern Gaul, with two deputies
from Africa, and, from Illyria, four trustworthy Nicenean
bishops led by the very Anemius of Sirmium w h o m Ambrose
himself had but recently installed. T h e more w a r y Illyrians
had stayed away. In spite of these circumstances, Palladius,
who was somewhat simple in his sense of honour, ventured to
take part in the proceedings; but, before he quite knew what
was happening, he found himself in the role of defendant
round whose neck Ambrose had placed the noose, with sur-
passing skill. A large number of the records have survived in
the form in which Ambrose reported the proceedings, 1 it is a
vivid picture of the revolting injustice of this heresy-hunt.
In the end, and in spite of their protests against the proceedings,
the two miscreants, Palladius and Secundianus, were solemnly
condemned as Arians.
T h e council immediately informed the emperor, and used
the most bombastic phraseology in doing so. 2 It asked for his
support in carrying out the sentences of deposition, and in the
installation of orthodox successors. T h e document then went
on to denounce a particularly dangerous " I l l y r i a n " bishop,
Julianus Valens by name, who had been driven from his
church at Pettau on a charge of high treason. He had frater-
nized with the Goths, and now, with Milan as his base, was
carrying on Arian propaganda in Italy, consecrating like-
minded persons as bishops contrary to the law, and so gathering
a party round about his own person. T h e emperor was also
requested to suppress in Sirmium a very persistent church which
supported Photinus.
Following upon the emperor's assent, Syagrius, the praefectus
praetorio, took energetic measures against the condemned
1 In the works of Ambrose, after tp. 8 (opera, 2, 786-805) Labbe, Concilia,
2, 979-92 Also latterly, cf. KaufTmann, diss. Maxim. 39-63 T h e concluding
portions of the minutes have been lost T h e date is September 3, 381
2 Ambr. ep. 10
 SYNODS IN A QUI LEI A 63
Arians. 1 Palladius did himself no good by publishing a protest
attacking Ambrose, and venturing to demand a public debate
on religion which was to last forty days, and to be conducted
in the Roman senate in the presence of Christian Biblical
scholars, pagans, and Jews. Finally, the two Illyrians tried to
use the Gothic bishop, Wulfila, as an intermediary in securing
an audience of Theodosius in Constantinople. 2 Unfortunately,
their patron died shortly after reaching the capital; 3 moreover,
there was only disappointment for the hope that a synod
would be assembled and opportunity given during the proceed-
ings for an unfettered statement. 4 Nicea conquered all along
the line in both east and west, and an otherwise unknown
bishop, named Maximinus, wrote an indignant polemic; he
could only bewail the facts, but not alter them.
Now it was not simply the Nicene Creed that had prevailed
in Aquileia; the personality of Ambrose had been at least
equally victorious. For yet another Illyrian, Leontius of
Salona, was deposed at that synod once and for all from his
office. Leontius had been condemned for defective theology at
an earlier date by a council of northern Italy led by Ambrose,
and it had been Damasus who had ordered him to appear
before that spiritual court. But when condemned, Leontius
had made his way again to Rome, where he was fortunate
enough to be declared orthodox. He had therefore journeyed
to Aquileia in a happy frame of mind with hopes that his
earlier sentence of condemnation would be revised. Ambrose,
however, was relentless in spite of the verdict passed by
Damasus. 8 When it suited his purpose, he ascribed much
credit to the authority of Rome, and went as far himself as to
read out three of Damasus' letters to the assembly. 6 Neverthe-
less, he refused to be deflected by a hair's-breadth from his
policy of conquering Illyria in the interests, both of the Nicene
faith, and of his own authority as bishop of Milan. He made
up for this to Damasus by doing him a pleasure in another
respect; for he induced the synod to give detailed reasons for
asking the emperor to take energetic measures against Ursinus

1 M a x . diss. 121 2 Fragments in M a x . diss. 8 1 - 1 4 0

3 M a x . diss. 41 4 ibid. diss. 7 1 - 7 3 cf. Socr. 5, 10 S o z o m . 7, 12
5 M a x i m , diss. 1 2 5 - 2 6 6 ibid. diss. 122
 T H E
64 3- WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

who was a nuisance on account of his cabals. 1 It is in this

connection, by the way, that the records tell of the opposition-
bishop in Rome, and say that he had made common cause
with the Julianus Valens in Milan who had proved himself
dangerous to Ambrose.
The council of Aquileia took action in a third direction, and
this proved to be the most important; for it gave Ambrose an
opening for snatching from Damasus's hands the reins of
eastern policy, and for making himself the spokesman of the
west. An extraordinary, and not altogether welcome visitor
appeared on one of the days in Aquileia, viz. Maximus, who
had already been turned down by Damasus as an impossible
person, and who had also since been expelled from Egypt. 2
It was the very man who, a year earlier, had played a part
against Gregory of Nazianzus as a candidate for the see of
Constantinople. His present scheme was to take advantage of
the pretended invitation to Aquileia addressed to the eastern
bishops, and to attend this "ecumenical council" to gain
support there for his claims to the see of the capital. He proved
that he was in fellowship with Peter of Alexandria, and that
his ordination was all in order; he was therefore recognized
by the council as an orthodox bishop.3
Meanwhile, fuller and more accurate details had arrived in
Aquileia about the outcome of the council of Constantinople,
whereupon Ambrose decided to take up the gage against the
triumphant group of eastern bishops. A letter on behalf of
the synod4 was addressed to the emperor, i.e. in the first
instance to Theodosius. This letter expressed the concern felt
in the west about the unrest in the east among the "catholics"
who were now agreed as regards the faith. The problem raised
by the refusal to recognize Paulinus in Antioch disturbed the
minds of the bishops assembled in Aquileia; they therefore
proposed that a general synod of the empire should meet in
Alexandria to settle the questions in dispute. The fact that
gave occasion for sending out this letter was that the settlement
had been undertaken one-sidedly during the preceding summer
by the eastern church meeting in Constantinople. But not so
1
Ambrose, epist. 11, "provisum" * vide supra, p. 4of. ' Ambr. ep. 13, 3 - 5
* ibid. ep. 12 "quamlibet"
 SYNODS IN AQUILEIA 65
much as a single syllable was said about this fact, although
what was felt about it can be deduced from a phrase to the
effect that the synods which had met in the capital of the
empire had in no way communicated their findings officially
to the church in the west. In particular, the bishops in Aquileia
explicitly requested that the emperor should confirm the
conclusions of the proposed council, and bring them to the
attention of the west. It was pointed out, in so many words,
that even the churches of Africa and Gaul, through their
delegates, shared in this desire. Not a word was said about the
election of Flavian, nor even about that of Nektarius: they
acted as if they had never heard of these events; moreover, no
mention was made of Maximus.
Theodosius was, of course, under no illusion as to what
was in their minds; in any case, where he felt doubtful about
certain points, he could have them explained at any time by
Nektarius. A council of the empire held in Alexandria was
just about the last thing which the bishops in the east, which
was under Theodosius, would have found agreeable. On the
other hand, antagonism on the part of the western bishops was
thoroughly undesirable, and exactly what would serve to
postpone the work of uniting the east; something therefore
had to be done. To meet this situation, Theodosius invited the
delegates who had attended the council which had just ended,
and asked them to come again to Constantinople1 for the
summer of A.D. 382.
Ambrose was then compelled to recognize that his hopes
were in danger of disappointment, and decided to make a
final, desperate blow. He arranged that a combined synod
should meet in Rome, and that Damasus should collaborate
whether he liked it or not. In their name, he wrote2 to Theo-
dosius expressing in forthright terms what they thought 'of
the synod which was on the point of meeting in Constanti-
nople; Paulinus was the rightful bishop of Antioch, not the
person (whose name was not mentioned) who had been
installed in disregard of the canons. The election of Nektarius
1
Theod. H.E. 5, 8, 10 cf. Greg. Naz. ep. 130, 132 Letter of the synod of
Constantinople cf. Theod. H.E. 5, 9, 9, p. 2 9 1 , 9 - 1 2 Parmentier
2
Ambr. ep. 13 sanctum The succession of the events has been explained by
E . Schwartz, ZNW, 1935, 2 0 7 - 1 0
E
66 3- T H E WEST UNDER VALENTINIAN

w a s d e s c r i b e d as i n v a l i d ; a n d , in all seriousness, t h e i m p o s t o r ,
M a x i m u s , w a s d e c l a r e d to b e t h e r i g h t f u l i n c u m b e n t o f t h e
see i n t h e c a p i t a l . T h e p r o p o s e d g e n e r a l c o u n c i l h a d b e e n
d e c i d e d o n t o o hastily i n t h e p r e v i o u s y e a r ; a n d t h e w e s t
h a d a r i g h t t o express its o p i n i o n a n d to b e c o n s i d e r e d in
r e g a r d t o M a x i m u s . I t n o w d e m a n d e d , either t h a t his c a n d i d a -
t u r e b e r e c o g n i z e d , or t h a t t h e case b e settled b y t h e c o m b i n e d
east a n d w e s t a t a c o u n c i l t o b e h e l d in R o m e . I t w a s n o t
possible t o see i n a n y o t h e r w a y h o w c h u r c h f e l l o w s h i p c o u l d
b e m a i n t a i n e d b e t w e e n t h e t w o h a l v e s o f the e m p i r e .
T h a t w a s a n u l t i m a t u m w h i c h , in effect, d e m a n d e d n o t h i n g
m o r e n o r less t h a n submission t o A m b r o s e ' s d i c t a t i o n . T h e
emperor laid the document before the council at Constanti-
n o p l e ; t h e c o u n c i l r e p l i e d i n v e r y c a l m tones. 1 T h e p o i n t s in
t h e letter sent b y A m b r o s e w e r e either t u r n e d b y polite phrases,
o r m e t w i t h ripostes. O n t h e p r a c t i c a l side, t h e y said t h a t , as
a m a r k o f g o o d w i l l , t h e y w o u l d s e n d a d e l e g a t i o n o f three
bishops t o R o m e . T h e e l e c t i o n o f N e k t a r i u s to C o n s t a n t i n o p l e
a n d o f F l a v i a n t o A n t i o c h h a d b e e n in a c c o r d a n c e w i t h t h e
rules l a i d d o w n b y t h e c a n o n s o f N i c e a ; h a d also b e e n a g r e e d
b y t h e c o u n c i l ; a n d w e r e n o t s u b j e c t to question. T h e s a m e
h e l d g o o d o f C y r i l of J e r u s a l e m — a m a t t e r to w h i c h t h e w e s t
w a s i n d i f f e r e n t . T h e f a i t h o f t h e eastern c h u r c h was perspi-
c u o u s l y d e t e r m i n e d b y the N i c e n e C r e e d : t h e confession o f the
t h r e e h y p o s t a s e s , the homoousios a n d t h e p e r f e c t m a n h o o d o f
t h e L o r d — i n short t h e w h o l e w a s t h e r e to b e r e a d in d e t a i l
i n t h e c r e e d o f A n t i o c h ( d r a w n u p b y Meletius in A.D. 3792),
a n d in t h a t o f t h e synod o f C o n s t a n t i n o p l e held in the p r e v i o u s
y e a r . N o t a single m e n t i o n w a s m a d e o f P a u l i n u s a n d M a x i m u s ;
t h e s y n o d c o m p l e t e l y i g n o r e d a n y question o f a b r e a c h b e t w e e n
east a n d w e s t ; it w a s as if u n i t y , l o v e , a n d p c a c e p r e v a i l e d
e v e r y w h e r e . I n conclusion, t h e w e s t e r n bishops w e r e e v e n
u r g e d t o r e j o i c e t h a t affairs in t h e east w e r e all in e x c e l l e n t
o r d e r , a n d t h e y w e r e r e m i n d e d t h a t t h e fear o f the L o r d w a s
a b l e t o b e a t b a c k all t e n d e n c i e s to schism in f a v o u r o f the
w i l l for b u i l d i n g u p the c h u r c h .
T h e s e soft, flute-like notes, w i t h their scornful overtones,
were a c c o m p a n i e d b y a thunderstorm of the utmost violence
1 Theod. H.E. 5, g, 1 - 1 8 2 vide supra, 38
 AN ULTIMATUM 67
springing from the imperial cabinet-chamber of Theodosius. 1
T o invite the eastern bishops to Rome was not only an unreason-
able request, but also nothing less than insulting. It was an
attempt to remove from the ground the boundary-stones
between east and west which the forefathers had set up. It
would be to transgress beyond the rights that could be estab-
lished by the traditional fellowship of the church, and would
be to the special advantage of the west.
Ambrose replied in the name of the R o m a n synod; he used
injured tones, and sang small. 2 In it, the emperor's objections
were described as beside the point: everything that had been
done was solely due to a love of unity; they had desired to
avoid a breach with the east, and did not regret the attempt
which they had made; in any case, it could no longer be said
that the west had no interest in the eastern bishops; above all
else, the essential purpose of the whole enterprise was an
inquisition into the case of Apollinaris, the heretic. It concluded:
" w e pay to Y o u r Majesty our due respects, and assure you of
our love of peace and quietness."
This put an end to the quarrel in the main, for neither of
the emperors had any inclination to make it the subject of a
political altercation. Y e t the fires continued to smoulder, and,
when occasion arose, burst into flame again. Ambrose was a
protagonist of the claims of the west whose perseverance and
influence far exceeded those of Damasus. He was skilled also
in forming a true estimate of what could be done in the
political field. His present experience taught him to exercise
moderation in future in matters affecting the east. He per-
ceived that it was impossible to gain a complete victory over
the east; and minor gains scarcely paid him for the risks
involved.
1 A s d c d u c e d from A m b r . ep. 14 2 A m b r . ep. 14, "fidei"
 Chapter Four

AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

G R A T I A N , T H E RULER OF THE WEST, A T T A I N E D T H E A G E

t w e n t y years in A.D. 379; his splendid qualities of b o t h b o d y
a n d soul w e r e e q u a l l y well developed. H e c o u l d w r i t e poems,
OF

fence in the schools, deliver addresses, a n d show his skill w i t h

the b o w . H e w a s a devout Christian w e l l a c q u a i n t e d w i t h
theological issues; he was polite; and m o r e o v e r he h o n o u r e d
his m a r r i a g e v o w . 1 O n the other h a n d , he w a s l a z y , a n d
w i t h o u t a sense o f duty. H e left the a d m i n i s t r a t i o n to the
officials, a n d d e v o t e d himself to the sport of a r c h e r y w h i c h he
l o v e d a b o v e all else, and w h i c h he practised w i t h his b o d y -
g u a r d of A l a n s . T h u s it c a m e a b o u t t h a t spiritual concerns
w e f e entrusted to his old tutor, Ausonius, w h o rose f r o m one
office to another. A m b r o s e supplied the i m p o r t a n t impulses
to policy in matters of religion a n d the c h u r c h , a fact w h i c h
clearly indicates their direction, in the m a n n e r w e h a v e
a l r e a d y discussed. 2 A l t h o u g h the particular claims of the
churches in the t w o halves of the empire w e r e frequently
opposed to e a c h other, yet G r a t i a n was satisfied that, if he
f o l l o w e d the direction pointed out b y A m b r o s e , he w o u l d
m a i n t a i n a c o m m o n front w i t h Theodosius against p a g a n i s m .
Inscriptions support the testimony of the ancient historian,
Zosimos, 3 t h a t G r a t i a n discarded the title, pontifex maximus;
a n d in addition declared that he did so in c o m m o n w i t h
T h e o d o s i u s . F r o m then onwards, the titles of the e m p e r o r
o m i t t e d all reference to this office. T h e decision to do so was
m o r e t h a n a mere formality; it m e a n t the end of state responsi-
bility for p a g a n worship and religion. U p to t h a t date, and in
spite of all prohibitions, even in R o m e a large n u m b e r of
contributions w e r e unchallenged b y the state a c c o r d i n g to
ancient custom, a n d paid to actual persons or to bodies
legally responsible for p a g a n (i.e. state) religion a n d worship.
1 T h e sources are indicated by Seeck in Pauly-Wissowa 7, 1832
2 vide supra, 5gf. 3 Zosimos 4, 36, 5
 THE CHURCH'S STATUS 69
All this now came at once to an end, 1 and, at the same time,
paganism was deprived of the last remnants of its splendour;
henceforth it could only subsist as a private conviction, and no
longer as a part of a public occasion.
A second piece of evidence showing that the new attitude
was unfriendly toward any reminder of the old ways was to
be found in the fact that, as formerly under Constantius, 2 so
now, the altar of Victory was removed from the senate house.
This action roused the aristocracy of R o m e , who thought of
sending a deputation to the emperor; but Damasus induced
many Christian senators to sign a petition to the contrary,
and Ambrose prevented the delegates from obtaining an
audience. 3
While the last bonds between the state and its old forms of
worship were thus severed in R o m e , the two emperors were
acting in common to promote the privileges of the church.
T h e decree issued in M a y , A.D. 383, prohibiting renunciation
of the Christian faith, constituted a further step towards
according a monopoly for the state-church. 4 A month later,
Theodosius went as f a r as to propose a debate with the heretics,
a proposal not without its comic aspects, and which he carried
out in a minor form; naturally the Nicene Creed alone was
sanctioned. A t the same time, it served a useful purpose b y
demonstrating to the bishops that the emperor laid claim
for himself, ex officio, to the last word on theological issues. 5
T h i s claim was the obverse to the fact that, in the east, there
existed a dominant state-church.
Meantime, and since the spring of A.D. 383, a storm had
been brewing in the west, which was to put a violent end to
the game played light-heartedly by Gratian. T h e troops in
Britain, who had been neglected by their emperor, rose in
rebellion; they took their general, Maximus, 6 a Spaniard b y
birth and perhaps a distant relative of Theodosius, and
declared him emperor. Gaul joined in the movement; G r a t i a n
tried to defend his crown, but was deserted by his troops near
1
T h e individual regulations have been enumerated by Seeck, Untergang, 5,
1 8 6 . 508 and Pauly-YVissowa 7, 1838 following Ambr. ep. 17. 18 and Symmachus,
relatio 3
2 3
vide Vol. ILL, 238 Ambr. ep. 17, 10 and Symmachus, relatio 3, 1. 20
4 s 6
vi de supra, 46f. Socr. 5, 10 Ensslin in Pauly-VVissowa 14, 2 5 4 6 - 2 5 5 5
70 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

Paris, and left in the lurch. H e was murdered in L y o n s on

A u g u s t 25, 383, b y Andragathius, the magister equitum.
M a x i m u s was now master as far as the west was concerned;
b u t Valentinian I I , a younger brother of the late emperor,
was ensconced in M i l a n ; he was twelve years old, and his
inheritance was defended b y Bauto, a Frankish general.
B a u t o h a d taken steps in good time to m a n the passes of the
AlpS and defend Italy against any incursion of the usurper.
Both sides found it convenient to enter into negotiations. In
M i l a n , Victor, the comes, tried to induce V a l e n t i n i a n to make
the j o u r n e y to T r ê v e s ; but Ambrose, at the court of M a x i m u s ,
put forth efforts to obtain for the y o u n g emperor he was
representing, tolerable terms of peace. A provisional agreement
was reached with w h i c h Valentinian had to be content, if
only because Theodosius hung back, and even recognized
M a x i m u s . T h e arrangements once m a d e were gradually con-
firmed and established in the next year or two, especially
after Valentinian decided on closer relations w i t h Theodosius,
to the chagrin of M a x i m u s . This was because the lad had
b e g u n to look on the former as the guardian of his interests,
as in fact he proved to be. M a x i m u s would have greatly
preferred it if V a l e n t i n i a n had placed himself under his
protection like a dutiful son. 1 It is certainly the case that
A m b r o s e h a d taken an active part in giving this eastern trend
to Italian policy; at any rate, it was just about this time 2 that
he dedicated to the emperor, Theodosius, a theological apolo-
getic he had written called David. T h e r e were now five years
of peace enjoyed between the three parts of the empire; but
in the sphere of the c h u r c h various important events took place.
T h e first phase of Priscillianism c a m e to a tragic conclusion
in Spain under M a x i m u s . A t that time, and indeed for m a n y
succeeding centuries, Spain was aloof from the theology of
the remainder of the west. It was very conservative, and
neither the bishops nor the churches cared to disturb their
quietude b y entering into the world at large and making
public either the questions it debated or the learning it
enjoyed. Nevertheless, on one occasion, a single spark gave
1 Ambr. ep. 24, 7
2 For discussion of the date, cf. Campenhausen, Ambrosius, 1833".
 PRISCILLIANISM 71
proof of vigour and burst into flame; and then there was a
spectacle to behold!
There lived at that time not far from Cordova a man of
good family and considerable wealth, Priscillian by name. H e
combined a good secular education with a profound religious
conviction, which led him to forsake the world and adopt an
ascetic mode of life. 1 In this way, he became the gifted and
enthusiastic prophet of a religious revival. T h e church at that
time was growing ever more worldly, and Priscillian's revival
was an attempt to recover the tone of the earliest years of
Christianity. It entered anew into the experience of the
irreconcilable contrast between flesh and spirit, between life
lived in the light of God, on the one hand, and, on the other,
surrender to the powers of darkness. T h e letters of St. Paul
were, for the Priscillianists, the inexhaustible sources of a
thorough-going asceticism; and Priscillian wrote for his
followers a compendium of Paul's leading ideas, which he
drew up in 92 "canons", complete with references in each
case to the original passages in the epistles. In order to facilitate
quoting the epistles, he divided them throughout into sections
— a n d Bibles are still in use which are provided with Priscil-
lian's numbers for the paragraphs, and with his "canons". 2
For the last fifty years several of the smaller tracts written b y
him 3 have been available, making it possible to form a picture
of his thought and aims such as is not provided by the brief
remarks of the judges who condemned him as a heretic.
H e was concerned to lay aside altogether this world and its
sins; the "first man, of the earth or of clay" (1 Cor. 15: 47)
was characterized by the "works of the flesh"; the "second
m a n from heaven" revealed the "works of the spirit", and, by
dwelling within, transformed us into the temple of G o d . 4
T h e re-creation of man is completed in three stages: (i)

1 S u l p . S e v . Citron. 2, 4C Priscill. tract. 1 , 2 1, 15 pp. 4, 9 14, 12, ed. Schepss

2 Novum Test. Lat. ed. W o r d s w o r t h et White 2, 7 - 3 2 , 45ff. and p p . 1 0 9 - 1 4 7 ,
1 6 9 - 1 7 4 ed. Schepss
3 I w o u l d like to agree with G . Morin's thesis (Rev. Dened. 1913, 1 5 3 - 7 3 ) , w h i c h

r e g a r d s Instantius as the author of the tractates. But, on pages 4, 8 - 1 4 , a

lay m a n of eminent family a n d conscious of a good education, is speaking of
his w h o l l y personal conversion: that surely is Priscillian cf. S u l p . Sev. Chron.
6
2, 4 > 3
4 Prise, tract. 1, 24f. p. 21 S c h .
72 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

continence tames the earthly passions dwelling in the flesh;

(ii) the soul re-assumes its divine character when it accepts the
teachings of the spirit about the idolatrous sins which condition
and surround it; and, (iii) God dwells within us, and is the daily
witness and judge of our conduct. Who would not recoil from
being condemned to death, and, instead, obtain a share in the
divine nature by repudiating the works of the flesh?1 T o win
the highest prize, we must follow the commandments of the
Bible, abandon parents and children, gifts and goods, even
our own souls, and love God more than anything else in the
world; yet God's pardoning mercy is not refused to those who
content themselves with living on the second or the third
level, under God's supervision and command. 2 All must fight
the world of the flesh, of the mundane life, and of darkness:
but the perfect sons of God neither marry nor are given in
marriage; they neither beget nor are begotten, but are like
the angels of God. 3
The language and phraseology employed are Biblical in
character; the same matter is repeated time after time in
sentences of seemingly interminable length. All sorts of theo-
logical applications are introduced, but by way of illustration,
rather than for the sake of detailed proof; with the result that
Priscillian's ideas are very rarely clear. The power of thought
which had been brought to bear in the east, and the plain, if
also rougher, phraseology which had been used in Africa
and Rome, were unattainable by this Spaniard, who was
essentially a preacher. He had gained no advantage, in this
respect, from reading Cyprian and Hilary. He toiled away
simply shaping phrases and ideas. Besides the Bible, he had
read a variety of apocryphal writings, which had excited his
curiosity, and from which, on suitable occasions, he borrowed
ornate passages to intertwine with his own sequences of
thought. He was on solid ground when he defended an
experienced Christian's right to read such books, especially as
some of them were cited in the Bible itself.4
Priscillian practised what he preached, and his personality
1 2
Prise, tract. 6, 92-93 p. 7of. 7, 1 1 3 p. 83 ibid, tract. 2, 43 p. 36
3
ibid, tract. 6 p. 8 1 , 14
4
ibid, tract. 3 pp. 4 4 - 5 6 cf. the fragment p. 1 5 3 , 1 1 - 1 8 and the report of
Orosius
 ENEMIES OF PRISCILLIAN 73
was magnetic enough to win him the adherence of many
followers, including some from the upper classes, who were
won by the idea of asceticism. T w o bishops, be it noted,
Instantius and Salvian by name, joined the movement; later,
Hyginus of Cordova followed their example; even Symposius
of Astorga looked on sympathetically. Those who showed the
greatest enthusiasm in devoting themselves to this way of
salvation, reached by repudiating the world, were the women-
folk.
T h e first attack, of which notice was given on a placard,
was made by Ydacius, bishop of Merida, the capital city of the
adjacent province. He "added fuel to the roaring furnace" in
his "limitless desire for battle". He put forward his own
estimate 1 of the w a y of life adopted by the Priscillianists, and
for a long time the argument swung backwards and forwards.
In the end, a synod was called at Saragossa (Caesaraugusta),
and was attended by both Spanish and Aquitanian bishops.
Their resolutions are extant, 2 bearing the date, October 4,
A.D. 380, and showing what objections were raised. Priscillian
himself believed that he was resuscitating the early Christian
office of " t e a c h e r " , and this was the appellation he adopted
for himself. 3 In their acts of devotion, men and women gathered
in common. During the three weeks of preparation for
Epiphany and in the "Quadragesima" before Easter, i.e.
Lent, the members of the community either withdrew into
isolation in their homes, or in the countryside, or even the
mountains. T h e y fasted, held their own services for devotional
purposes, but did not attend church. All this brought down
the condemnation of the synod, but no anathemas were
pronounced either on individual persons or on any heretical
doctrines. Priscillian and his adherents did not put in an
appearance; and Damasus of Rome, after being asked to
declare his attitude, warned the synod about proceedings
against absent persons, and without a due hearing. 4
It then came to a closer battle. Hitherto, Priscillian had been
a l a y m a n , but his friends now consecrated him bishop of
1 Prist:, tract. 2 p . 3 5 , 20
2 B r u n s , Canones, 2, 1 3 L a u c h e r t , p . 1 7 5 , w h e r e , h o w e v e r , t h e d a t e is n o t g i v e n
3 Cone. can. 7 cf. P r i s e , can. 39. 4 8
1 P r i s e , tract. 2 p . 3 5 , 1 7 . a 3 40, 7 a g a i n s t S u l p . S e v . Chron. 2, 4 7 , 2f.
74 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS
1
Avila, in the province of Lusitania. His enemies immediately
raised the charge of heresy. Ithacius, bishop of Ossonoba
(today called Faro, to the east of Cape St. Vincent), did all
that could be done in proving them guilty of horrible heresies;
charging them, in particular, with astrological practices, the
gnostic kind of belief in demons, and Manichaeism. 2 The last
accusation was the most ominous, although, at the same time,
it was very trifling. T h e doctrine, which Priscillian preached
with much passion, was one found in both St. Paul and St.
John, viz. that of the contrast between the spirit of God and
worldly-mindedness; but if this contrariety were presented
from the metaphysical standpoint as the antagonism between
two "principles", you were at once face to face with the
fundamental thesis of Manichaeism. This is the excuse which
has been used times without number, in the course of the
church's history, to pillory preachers of repentance who were
causing a stir.
Those who stood in the forefront against Priscillian were the
least reputable of the Spanish bishops. Ithacius is said to have
been a shameless and morally worthless twaddler; whilst
Ydacius had to face charges preferred by his own presbytery,
his conduct having an evil notoriety far and wide in the land. 3
The defence made by Priscillian in his writings 4 was, naturally,
not of the slightest use against enemies of this kind. It was not
long before he discovered that, on account of steps taken by
Ydacius, an anti-Manichaean decree of Gratian's was used by
the governors of the province against himself and the bishops
friendly with him. They were compelled to abandon their sees.
After making their way to Italy, they sought to obtain from
Damasus and Ambrose some protection from the blow delivered
by the secular arm. 6 It was all in vain; both of these princes
of the church turned the cold shoulder to the suspect suppliants.
Their next move was to apply to Macedonius, the minister of
police, from whom they had no difficulty in securing the

1
Between Madrid and Salamanca
2
According to Priscillian's Apology, tract. I cf. pp. 23, 24 Collected by E. Ch.
Babut, Priscillien (Paris, 1909) p. 144
3
Sulp. Sev. Chron. 2, 50, 2 Prise tract. 2 p. 39, 248".
4
Prise, tract. 1 tract. 2 is the memorandum presented to Damasus
5
ibid, tract. 2 p. 4 1 , 16
 MAXIMUS SUPPRESSES THE DISTURBANCE 75

cancellation of the political order which had been made

against them. They returned home, and re-assumed office; in
fact, Volventius, the Spanish proconsul, was ordered to take
action against their accusers as disturbers of the peace of the
church. Ithacius took flight to Gaul; and then the question
of the competence of the different administrators broke out
into a lively quarrel, which lasted until the elevation of
Maximus completely altered the situation.
The usurper considered it important to show that, in
churchmanship, he was orthodox; and he ordered that the
Priscillian affair should be examined by a synod at Bordeaux.
Here, Instantius was deposed, but Priscillian withdrew from
the proceedings and appealed to the emperor. Both accusers
and accused then journeyed to Trêves, and St. Martin of
Tours, himself castigated at the same time by the Spanish
heresy-hunters as an ascetic, vainly tried to put an end to
the scandal, and have the issue referred for judgment to a
court of the church. Maximus allowed himself to be persuaded
by the instigators. Euodius, the prefect, with his inquisitorial
technique, was successful in seeing that Priscillian and his
adherents were condemned for the crime of practising magic,
and for organized immorality. The majority were executed by
the sword; a few escaped with a sentence of exile. These acts
of bloodshed turned out ill for the accusers, who fell into
general disfavour; neither Ithacius nor Ydacius were able to
retain their dioceses for very long. When visiting Trêves,
Ambrose 1 gave unmistakable evidence of his dislike for the
bishops of this group; and Rome, too, showed so much dis-
satisfaction, that Maximus, in self-defence, sent the records of
the trial to the pope. 2 Martin of Tours had to bear other
painful consequences, and from that time retired altogether
from the stage of ecclesiastical politics. 3 It was the first time
that authorities in the church had used the secular arm to
carry the verdict of guilty, in a trial for heresy, to the length
of a capital punishment. The nasty taste remained for a long
time, and brought about a violent reaction a few years later.
Of this something will be said in the sequel.
T h e most famous, as well as the most refined member of
1 2 3
A m b r . ep. 24, 12 Coll. Avell. 40, 4 Sulp. Sev. dial. 3, 13, 5 - 6
76 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

t h e o l d a r i s t o c r a c y w a s S y m m a c h u s , w h o b e c a m e t h e city
p r e f e c t o f R o m e in A.D. 384. W h e n this e v e n t took p l a c e , it
a p p e a r e d t o b e a n a p p r o p r i a t e o p p o r t u n i t y for b r i n g i n g u p
a g a i n t o t h e n e w r u l e r , V a l e n t i n i a n I I , a request w h i c h h a d
b e e n r e f u s e d b y G r a t i a n ; t h e r e q u e s t w a s t h a t t h e state s h o u l d
m a k e g r a n t s in s u p p o r t o f t h e a n c i e n t religious c e r e m o n i a l o f
R o m e ; a n d , f u r t h e r , it w a s asked t h a t t h e a l t a r o f V i c t o r y
s h o u l d b e r e - e r e c t e d in t h e c o u r t as a c o r r e s p o n d i n g p r a c t i c a l
s y m b o l . S y m m a c h u s , w h o h a d t a k e n a l e a d i n g p a r t in t h e
f o r m e r a p p l i c a t i o n , u s e d all his skill a n d artistry in d r a w i n g u p
t h e p e t i t i o n . 1 I t is a m a r v e l l o u s e x a m p l e o f the d i g n i f i e d
R o m a n m a n n e r , a d o c u m e n t f u l l o f t h e maiestas populi Romani.
N o o r n a t e a n d c o m p l i c a t e d sentences, n o c h a i n s o f s u p e r l a -
tives, a n d n o n e o f the m a g i c o f e u p h o n y a n d r h y t h m are used
t o g a i n assent b y flattery. T h e s i m p l e construction w h i c h h e
w a s a c c u s t o m e d to e m p l o y in his p r i v a t e letters, he also used
o n this o c c a s i o n ; a n d h e w a s a b l e to rise t o classic heights,
a n d p r o d u c e t h e greatest impression. E v e r y w o r d has b e e n
c a r e f u l l y w e i g h e d , p u t into the position w h e r e it really b e l o n g s ,
a n d m a k e s its r e s o n a n c e fully felt in o u r ears.
H e b r o u g h t R o m a herself, as it w e r e , into the e m p e r o r ' s
p r e s e n c e . S h e asked for the restitution o f the old rights she h a d
e n j o y e d for 1000 years, rights w h i c h h a r m e d n o b o d y , a n d
w h i c h w e r e w o r t h y o f respect e v e n b y those w h o d e n i e d their
religious c o n t e n t . T h e o l d , t r a d i t i o n a l ceremonials h a d g i v e n
laws wherever R o m e held sway, driven Hannibal from her
w a l l s , a n d t h e G a u l s f r o m her c a p i t o l ; they b e l o n g e d to t h e
c o m m o n h e r i t a g e , like the stars, t h e skies, a n d the e a r t h ,
b e h i n d w h i c h a d i v i n e secret l a y h i d d e n , a secret w h i c h ,
t h o u g h p e r h a p s in d i f f e r e n t w a y s , w e all sought to u n c o v e r .
I t w a s n o t w i t h o u t reason t h a t a p o o r harvest a n d a t i m e o f
f a m i n e h a d b e e n the h a r d lot o f t h e p r o v i n c e s ; the l e a n y e a r
w a s d u e t o w i c k e d n e s s . A l i v e l i h o o d refused to the priests will
b e d e n i e d to t h e w h o l e p o p u l a t i o n . O e m p e r o r , exercise y o u r
o b l i g a t i o n s t o d o j u s t i c e , a n d r e n d e r t o e a c h his due—suum
cuique.
E v e r since it w a s w r i t t e n , this address has b e e n a d m i r e d
a n d its t e r m s r e - e c h o e d , j u s t as o n t h e occasion w h e n it w a s
1 S y m m a c h u s , relatio 3 p. 280-83 e d . Seeck
 AMBROSE AND THE EMPEROR'S DUTIES 77

first read in the emperor's consistory. Pagans and Christians

alike were stirred by the solemn earnestness of an admonition 1
which called all men of goodwill to the aid of a glorious
history, to render all worthy honour to a world that was
fading away. It seemed safe to count on the emperor's assent.
Then Ambrose intervened. H e had no need to adopt the
ceremonial forms of the court, because his position afforded
him direct intercourse with the ruler. H e was the young man's
father-confessor. He wrote 2 that the emperor was a soldier of
God's, in duty bound to serve the faith; in no circumstances
or shape, must he agree to promote the worship of idols. His
brother, Gratian, had always been faithful to duty in refusing
any such request: the commandment of God ranked far in
advance of consideration for the wishes even of persons who
had rendered great service. I n any case, these persons con-
sisted of only a small group, and were opposed by the greater
majority of the senators who were Christians. T h e plea needed
no answer. Valentinian might, of course, mention it to Theo-
dosius, his trustworthy councillor: the issue was indeed import-
ant enough. Ambrose concluded: "If the matter were to be
settled in any other sense than that suggested, it would be
impossible for us bishops to regard it with indifference, or let
it pass without comment. T h o u mayest go to church—but
thou wilt find no clergy there; or if thou dost find them there,
they will offer thee resistance." T h a t was an unambiguous
threat of excommunication should the emperor disobey.
I n view of a situation where the state-church was a privileged
institution, Ambrose made certain deductions of which no
emperor had ever so much as dreamed. T h e thesis was that
the ruler belonged to the church otherwise than as a private
person only; he was also, by virtue of his very office, a "soldier
of God", or, in later phraseology, the "advocatus ecclesiae".
This, again, implied, not only that it was his duty to protect
the church, but also that he was committed to the divine
commandments in his political activity. If he ever felt himself
in doubt as to his course, who else than the teachers in the
church could tell him what was the will of Almighty God?
If he did not avail himself of authoritative advice in this way,
1 2
A m b r . de obitu Valent. 19 efi. 17, 8 ibid. ep. 17
78 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

he would be liable to the means of correction of w h i c h the

church disposed.
N o one in the east h a d seriously dared to m a k e a d e m a n d
of that order. It revealed a m o d e of thought native to the west,
embodied in a person like A m b r o s e w h o was on intimate
terms with the h e a d of the state; that special c o m b i n a t i o n is
w h a t led to the development of this new article in the constitu-
tion of the Christian state-church. A claim like this, once it
h a d been made b y an eminent person in an important post,
entered into the blood-stream of Latin Catholicism. I t m a y
have been relegated in practice to the b a c k g r o u n d at the
present day, but it has never been abandoned in principle.
This was not the only occasion w h e n A m b r o s e seized the
opportunity of using it successfully. In the instance just
described, it was not a matter of great importance. A m b r o s e
secured the support of B a u t o and Rumoridus, both of w h o m
were generals, and the second of w h o m was a pagan. 1 H e then
composed a refutation of Symmachus's relatio, in very matter-
of-fact terms, and supported b y undeniable facts; he h a d it
read out to the consistory together with his letter to V a l e n -
tinian. In this w a y , he settled the matter. T h e youthful
emperor bowed to the will of his spiritual adviser.
Near Easter in the next year, A.D. 385, a new clash occurred
which gave Ambrose a chance of defending his conception of
the church's rights. T h e d o w a g e r empress, w h o was the
mother of the youthful V a l e n t i n i a n , the ruler on the throne,
repudiated the Nicene C r e e d , and, at an earlier date, h a d even
given support to the " A r i a n s " of Illyria. 2 A t the moment in
question, she expressed a wish to be granted a certain church
in the suburbs of the city, and asked that it should be assigned
to her attendants and her b o d y g u a r d of Goths. 3 Her son was
quite willing, and gladly granted w h a t seemed a reasonable
request, but Ambrose flatly refused the suggestion. W h e n the
objection was raised that the emperor would be only exercising
a right that pertained to h i m , since everything was in his
power of disposal, A m b r o s e answered, 4 that this principle
might be granted in all cases of private property, and even of
the lives of the emperor's subjects; but it was limited where it
1 A m b r . ep. 57, 3 - vide supra, 17 3 A m b r . ep. 20, 12 4 ibid. ep. 20, 8. 16
 AMBROSE AND JUSTINA 79
touched on the possessions of the church: " W h a t belongs to
God, is outside the emperor's power."
It was an ancient principle of Roman law that any temple
which had been solemnly set apart, either b y a resolution of
the Roman people, or by the emperor's orders, became the
property of the relevant god; and ipso facto iit was no longer
available in any way for any man to use for secular purposes.
It retained this character even when it existed only as a heap
of ruins. Only if the god himself surrendered it, i.e., if he
allowed it to fall into enemy hands, did it lose its sanctity;
but this sanctity was immediately and automatically regained
when the conqueror again vacated it, or otherwise set it free. 1
Ambrose applied this legal principle to the buildings belonging
to the Christian churches, and deduced the utmost logical
consequences. When a building had been dedicated to God
by being consecrated, the act could not be undone by any
decision on man's part, not even by the emperor with his
over-riding orders. Further, the bishop, as the organ of the
church, was the authority installed by God Himself, and the
guardian of His property.
In this way, the issue was reduced to a sheer question of
principle, and Ambrose was not prepared to give way an
inch. He wrote a graphic account in a letter to his sister,
Marcellina. 2 It appears that on Palm Sunday, April 6th, 385,
while Ambrose was celebrating mass in the city, the empress's
men, after fruitless negotiations, had taken forcible possession
of the little Basilica Porciana at the foregate, 3 and hedged it
round with the royal pennons. Street riots broke out at once,
developing into demonstrations in front of the royal palace. 4
Punishments were inflicted on the citizens immediately after-
wards, while officials and military officers entered into negotia-
tions with Ambrose. They urged that he should at least calm
the people down. He replied: " I did not stir them up; I have
done my part—only God can assuage their anger." The crisis
was reached on the Wednesday: the emperor placed soldiers
round the Basilica Porciana; the two churches in the city were

1
Gaius, Instit. 2, 4 - 5 Digest, 1, 8, 6, 3 1, 8, g, 1 ; 1 1 , 7, 36
2 3
A m b r . ep. 20 re these decani, cf. Seeck in Pauly-Wissowa 4, 2246
4
Arnbr. sermo c. Auxent. 29
8o 4. AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

full of excited crowds weeping aloud; Ambrose delivered a

very arresting sermon in the " o l d " church. 1 T h e sermon was
based on the lesson for the day, a passage from the book of
J o b , and exhorted the people to Christian long-suffering and
passive resistance; it also drew attention to the harmful parts
women had played from time to time, starting from Eve, and
going on to Jezebel and Herodias. While he was actually
preaching, the church filled with soldiers forcing their w a y in;
they had been tormented with anxiety by Ambrose's threats
of excommunication, and they now assured him of their
fidelity to the orthodox faith. T h e y had come out of the ranks
of the soldiers surrounding the church and cutting it off, and
they now mingled with the weeping congregation. A b o u t the
same time, the bishop was told that the imperial pennons had
been removed from the Basilica Porciana, apparently with
violence, for the children afterwards tore them to shreds.
Ambrose continued refusing to surrender the Basilica, and
sent sharp answers back by the emperor's intermediaries who
were full of reproaches. Soldiers remained on guard over the
churches throughout the night. A t length, on Low Thursday,
the emperor gave in. T h e military were withdrawn, the
threatened penalties suspended, and, in the name of his troops,
the general prayed the emperor to attend church in state. It
betrays the atmosphere when we learn that Valentinian
answered furiously, "Soon, if Ambrose gives the orders, you
will be sending me to him in chains." There is no room for
doubt that the issue had finally been forced by the attitude of
the soldiers. Ambrose had good cause for fearing that the
court would take its revenge for the insult, even if the Lord
Chamberlain had not threatened to cut his head off. 2
It was but in accordance with human nature that Justina,
the dowager-empress, who was really at the bottom of the

1 i.e. the c h u r c h of St. T h e c l a (Cabrol-Leclercq, Diet, i, 1383 Fig. 317 n. 2)

on the west side of the present-day cathedral square, but no longer existing.
T h e Basilica N o v a (minor) is the S. M a r i a Maggiore (ibid. n. 1), on whose
site the present cathedral stands: both churches are mentioned in the Liturgy
of A m b r o s e as S u m m e r and Winter cathedrals. T h e Basilica Porciana is S.
V i c t o r ad corpus, to the west of S. A m b r o g i o , beyond the ancient line of the
w a l l as marked by the V i a Vittoria and the V i a Garducci (Cabrol 1, 1443,
Fig. 318 n. 9)
2 A m b r . ep. 20, 28
 AMBROSE AND JUSTINA 8l

whole affair, found it hard to accept defeat; nor will any one
find it astonishing that the emperor, w h o was scarcely fifteen
years of age, turned against his spiritual adviser w i t h a heat
consonant with his youth. But the manner in w h i c h both the
royal persons concerned aired their grievances shows m u c h
room for doubt whether they possessed any sense of political
proportion.
T h e year 385 was marked throughout w i t h various hostile
acts b y the court party and Justina's Illyrian supporters; until
at last the intentions of this group came to the light of d a y : to
make one of their o w n persuasion bishop of M i l a n instead of
Ambrose. W i t h this end in view, they chose a certain Mercurius,
w h o was bishop in one of the frontier districts. H e took the
name of Auxentius, and it is at least possible 1 that he is to be
identified w i t h an Auxentius of Durostorum (Silistria) w h o
wrote a biography of Wulfila. T h e battle came out into the
open w h e n the year 386 began. A decree was p r o m u l g a t e d on
J a n u a r y 23 granting freedom of worship to all w h o held to the
creed of R i m i n i , " w h i c h h a d been d r a w n u p w i t h a view to
complete p e r m a n e n c e " . T h e decree protected the homoians,
and threatened h e a v y penalties against those members of the
church, hitherto privileged, w h o h a d strongly opposed these
liberties until n o w . 2 Soon afterwards, severer orders were
issued, w h i c h m a d e it obligatory on the whole of the western
empire to h a n d over the churches to homoian bishops; these
orders caused a genuine storm of excitement. 3
Ambrose remained at his post, and let the tempest break
upon him, although he was urged b y the court to make no
commotion and to disappear from sight. T h e emperor's o w n
wish was that a debate on religion should be arranged between
Ambrose and Auxentius, and held in the presence of the consis-
tory. Auxentius readily agreed, but A m b r o s e refused to
attend. H e laid his ideas before the emperor in a d o c u m e n t of
fundamental importance. T h i s d o c u m e n t reached its c l i m a x
in the claim that, in questions of faith, it was for the bishops
to pronounce j u d g m e n t on Christian emperors, not emperors
1 A conjecture by L . Duchesne, Histoire ancienne de Veglise 2, 552
2 Cod. Theod. 16, 1, 4; only the innocuous section, 16, 4, 1 was published in
the east
3 A m b r . ep. 2 1 , 11 sermo c. Auxent 16 M a x i m u s in Coll. Avell. 39, 3
F
82 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

on bishops. 1 H e went as far as to remind the y o u t h f u l V a l e n -

tinian that he had never been baptized, and that he seemed
likely to transgress the principles w h i c h h a d been carefully
weighed b y his father, w h e n he was already a g r o w n m a n .
T h e n he p r e a c h e d a thrilling sermon to the p o p u l a c e w h o
c r o w d e d into the cathedral while it was still surrounded b y a
g u a r d of soldiers; he assured t h e m of the u n b e n d a b l e firmness
of their bishop; he h a m m e r e d h o m e the words: " G i v e to C a e s a r
w h a t belongs to Caesar, a n d to G o d w h a t belongs to G o d .
Caesar is a son of the c h u r c h ; he is p a r t of the c h u r c h , not
superior to the c h u r c h . " T h i s sermon 2 was delivered on P a l m
S u n d a y , M a r c h 29, 386. I t was soon published as a p a m p h l e t ,
and b e c a m e p a r t of the foundation u n d e r l y i n g the western
interpretation of the legal constitution of the state-church.
A m b r o s e h a d gained the suffrage of the masses, not only on
account of his arrangements for using gold to provide alms in
support of t h e poor a n d the beggars, b u t also because he
exercised his gifts and composed n e w hymns to serve t h e m as
battle-songs in the w a r for the f a i t h 3 — a b o v e all, because his
towering personality exercised a p o w e r f u l spell even over the
cultured people in the city. Augustine's testimony is entirely
convincing here. O n c e more, the fearless bishop c a m e o f f
victor, and the Basilica Ambrosiana, consecrated by h i m at
this period, remains as a memorial of this t r i u m p h ; for, o n
J u n e 19, 386, he interred there the bones of the martyrs,
Gervase and Protasius, w h i c h he h a d discovered t w o d a y s
earlier in the Basilica of Saints Felix and N a b o r . 4 H o w he
c h a n c e d upon these ancient and long-forgotten martyrs, a n d
h a p p e n e d to look for t h e m in exactly the right place, is not
evident from the a c c o u n t 6 w h i c h A m b r o s e sent to his sister,
M a r c e l l i n a , a l t h o u g h that r c c o r d is v e r y clear and prccise in
other respects. T h e time w h e n the bones were transferred w a s
m a d e into a public h o l i d a y ; a n d a miracle occurred to show
the divine a p p r o v a l : Severus, a blind b u t c h e r well-known to
1 Ambr. «£.21,4
2 ibid, sermo contra Auxentium In the collected Works, the sermon follows
epist. 21. T h e date is to be deduced from §19
3 ibid, sermo c. Aux. 33, 34
4 N e a r the S. A m b r o g i o ; the site is now occupied by the Garibaldi barracks

vide C a b r o l , Diet. 1, 1443 Fig. 318 n. 3

6 A m b r . ep. 22 and also Augustine, confess. 9, 7, 1 5 - 1 6
 AMBROSE AND VALENTINIAN II 83

the whole city, touched the fringe of the shroud, and received
his sight. Afterwards, he did not resume his gory trade, but
became one of the servants in the Church of St. Ambrose. 1
There was then a series of cures, including exorcisms of
demons; the rejoicings of the populace silenced any unkindly
criticisms made by the "Arians".
Because of his child-like habit of complying with the wishes
of his mother, who was, moreover, both little-minded and
high-tempered, Valentinian had lost a great deal of the
respect of his people. Furthermore, he was soon compelled to
see that he had made a very serious political error. He received
a genuinely paternal letter 2 on a certain occasion from Maxi-
mus, his fellow-emperor, a man whom he disliked in that
position. This letter pointed out the catastrophic effects of his
policy regarding the Arians, which was shaking the whole of
the western empire; and urged him, out of the heartfelt feelings
of a friend, to abandon the road which he had mistakenly been
following. Maximus also wrote Siricius, the pope of Rome,
with the assurance that, now and always, he was determined
to keep watch and ward over the catholic faith. 3 What else
lay in the background behind this correspondence remains
hidden from us. However, in the autumn of 387, Maximus
marched into Italy, and Valentinian had no alternative but to
flee. He met with Theodosius in Salonika, whose straightforward
policy he had renounced, to his own undoing. Theodosius
had no alternative but to offer him asylum, and would have
had none, even if he had not married Galla, Justina's lovely
daughter, and had not Valentinian thus been his own brother-
in-law. At no time in the east, had Maximus ceased being
regarded as a usurper, and the recognition accorded him was
always felt to be in the nature of an armistice.
The occupation of Italy made it impossible to avoid the
arbitrament of war. Theodosius made careful preparations,
and advanced westwards in June,- A.D. 388. He was successful
in inflicting a decisive defeat on Maximus's troops at Siszeg
on the Sau, and again, near Pettau in Steiermark. Maximus
was taken prisoner near Aquileia and put to death. Theodosius
1 Ambr. ep. 22, 2. 17 Paulinus, vita Ambr. 14 (Plate 2, facing p. 10 ed. Bened.)
2 Coll. Avell. n. 39 (1, 88 Guenther) 3 ibid. n. 40 (1, 90)
84 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

entered Milan as conqueror in October, A.D. 388, and in so

doing took over in fact the rule of the west. Valentinian,
having shown himself lacking in practical ability, remained
from now onwards a purely ornamental figure. He was dis-
missed to Vienne, and commended to the care of the Frankish
general, Arbogast, who treated the young weakling with such
brutality that the latter, in his doubts, finally committed
suicide (May 15, 392). 1 After Justina died in A.D. 388, he had
become reconciled with Ambrose, and had even sharply
reproved the senate when it addressed to him a new request
regarding support for the cultus. In the distress which he
suffered during his last days, he begged Ambrose to come and
baptize him. His former father-confessor arrived too late; but,
afterwards, during the mourning ceremonial in Milan, Ambrose
delivered a splendid funeral oration over him. 2
When Theodosius took on his own shoulders the rulership
of the west, he had already decided henceforward to rule the
whole empire by himself, and then to bequeath it as a heritage
to his two sons. Arcadius, then eleven years of age, was desig-
nated for the east, and remained behind in Constantinople.
Honorius, then five years of age, was to follow his father, to
the west, and was later taken by him to Rome when he visited
the city in June, A.D. 389. Theodosius entered in a stately
procession, and presented his little son to the Romans unmis-
takably as their crown-prince. 3 He remained in Rome till
the end of August, and was greeted with a series of banquets
in his honour as a victorious emperor, and he, in turn, made
every effort to please the Romans. Leaving his military body-
guard behind, he entered into conversation with people in the
streets, took all pleasantries in good part, condescended so far as
to visit private persons in their homes; in short, he showed that
all he wanted was to be a " R o m a n citizen". He addressed the
people from the speaker's platform in the forum; he addressed
the senate in their house, and, while there, he permitted the
Gallic rhetorician, Pacatus, to deliver a long panegyric in
1 S o Seeck, Untergang 5, 242. 537. T h e ancient records oscillate between m u r d e r
and suicide.
2 A m b r . de obitu Valent. 19. 23-27 cf. ep. 53, 2
3 Chron. min. 1, 245, 298 Instructive records in C l a u d i a n , de sexto cons, Honorii
5 4 - 7 6 Pacatus paneg. 47, 3
 THEODOSIUS SOLE RULER 85
his honour. T h e address is still extant, and the speaker was
given a princely reward; he was appointed proconsul of Africa
for the following year, and afterwards he rose to be Keeper of
the Privy Purse, 1 in spite of his not being a Christian. T h e sun
of grace came from behind the storm-clouds and shone also
on Symmachus. During the critical days, he had held to
Maximus, and even delivered a speech in his honour; now he
was driven to seek asylum in the Church of Novatian in Rome.
Yet he was pardoned by Theodosius, and was even permitted
to present him with an address. 2 He became consul for the
year 391. T h e honour was shared by Tatian, the praefectus
praetorio of the east; 3 nor must it be overlooked that neither of
these men, who had become prominent in this way, were
well-disposed to Christianity. It is true that Theodosius had
been moved by a desire to win the aristocracy of Rome, and
this had outweighed certain doubts on the part of the church
about giving any honour to Symmachus; nevertheless, the
general conditions in the west, particularly in the city of
Rome, made it imperative to adopt a cautious policy towards
pagans and pagan institutions.
T h e situation in the east was rather different. Granted
that Theodosius had prohibited recusancy from Christianity
to paganism in this region, yet he had not promulgated any
decrees hostile to pagans. His edicts had been confined to the
practice of fortune-telling which was linked with animal
sacrifices, and he had expressly permitted resort to the temples,
which, on their part, were kept open as monuments of art; 4
indeed a Christian was not permitted an appointment as chief
priest of a city, because his responsibilities regarding the temple
were proper to a member of the ancicnt faith. 5 Kynegius, 6 the
eastern Praefectus, was commissioned in A.D. 385 to journey to
E g y p t for the purpose of damping down the paganism which
enjoyed there a dubious kind of life—but he was to act within
the limits set by his commission. None-the-less, he appears to
have exceeded his terms of reference and, not only in Egypt,
but throughout the east, to have closed the temples and
1 Seeck, Symmachus, p. C X C I I I 2 Socrates, H.E. 5, 14, 5 - 1 0
3 Ensslin in Pauly-Wissowa, 2nd Series, 4, 2463 n. 3
* Cod. Theod. 16, 10, 8 re Nov. 30, A.D. 382
6 ibid. 12, 1, 112 re June 16, A.D. 386 9 Seeck in Pauly-Wissowa 11, 2527
86 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

stopped the sacrifices. 1 He seems to have been responsible for

having destroyed the splendid temple at Edessa; and he was
probably urged on by his wife, Acanthia, a devout Christian,
but under the influence of fanatical monks. 2 T h e r e are also
good grounds for regarding Kynegius as the official who
afforded military protection when Bishop Marcellus went to
the extreme of brutality while reducing the temple at A p a m e a . 3
Parallel to the destruction of temples initiated b y responsible
officials, were the campaigns of hosts of excited monks who
went hither and thither in the countryside, destroyed the little
shrines of the peasants, dealt roughly with their priests, or
even killed them. 4 Kynegius died while still promoting this
kind of action, and Theodosius, recognizing that he had
blundered, appointed a pagan, Tatian, as successor. Libanius
immediately sent a petition to the emperor on behalf of the
temples.-6 In this petition, he drew pointed attention to the in-
consistency between what the emperor had ordered, and the
excesses to which Kynegius had gone, as well as to those of the
dissolute hordes of monks; nor did he omit suggesting that a
policy of tolerance would be wise. He said: " I f men could be
converted by attacks on temples, the temples would have been
destroyed long ago on your orders, for it is a long time since
you began to desire men to be converted. But you were aware
that you would not reach your goal, and therefore did not
lay hands on these temples." A t the very least, it can be said
about this phraseology that it was not a piece of court flattery.
But Libanius disposed of much skill on other occasions in
taking advantage of the psychological moment when the
emperor, who tended to be cautious by nature, had already
changed his mind sufficiently to bear being told the truth
without getting angry. It was such an opportunity that
Libanius cleverly seized when he addressed the emperor as
counsel for public opinion. He could also count on being
graciously received on the present occasion, because the
nomination of T a t i a n had itself revealed that the emperor
was not pleased with Kynegius's policy affecting religion, and

1 Zosimos 4, 37, 3 2 L i b a n i u s , or. 30, 4 4 - 4 6

3 T h e o d o r e t , H.E. 5, 2 1 , 6 - 1 1 G o t h o f r e d u s on Cod. Theod. 16, 10, 8
4 Libanius, or. 30, 8 - 9 6 ibid., or. 30; in §53, T a t i a n is the " n e w m a n " .
 SPIRITUAL INFLUENCE OF AMBROSE 87

because even already, Libanius himself had been given the

title of Praefectus, and thus elevated to the highest rank of
governorships.
A synagogue at Kallinikum on the Euphrates had been set
on fire by the Christians, and in a village to the east, a church
of the Valentinian sect had been stormed by the monks. T h e
local military commandant had sent a report, and Theodosius
had responded by ordering severe punishment and due
compensation. Word of all this immediately reached Ambrose,
and a contest of historical importance began between the two
men: a struggle between a priest on the one hand, and, on
the other, a secular ruler. Ambrose addressed himself in writing
to the emperor, for he had often found before that oral negotia-
tions failed his purpose. 1 In his letter, he asked that the
Christian rioters should be entirely pardoned as a tribute of
respect to the church. O n the next occasion when the emperor
attended service, Ambrose preached on the necessity of for-
giving, on the splendour of the church, and on the perversity
of the synagogue; and he appealed directly to the emperor to
forgive the wrong-doers as a favour to the church. When he
left the pulpit, the emperor spoke to him on the subject, and
promised to mitigate the penalties. Ambrose refused to be
content, and demanded more, "in order that he might make
the sacrifice (of the mass) with a good conscience on the
emperor's b e h a l f " — a n d in fact, he only proceeded to the
altar, and began the sacrificial liturgy after the emperor had
promised complete pardon. 2 Publicly, and in the presence of
the congregation, he had compelled the emperor to give way.
It had only been possible to do so because Theodosius was
exactly like Ambrose in the great importance he attached to
the arguments affecting the church, and in the high serious-
ness with which he conceived his duties as a Christian. He felt
himself bound, as a Christian ruler, to observe the divine
commands; and he acknowledged that, in Ambrose, there was
a great and candid bishop, clothed with proper authority to
expound those commands.
A little later, a deputation of the senate of Rome sought an
1 T h e l e t t e r = A m b r . ep. 40 cf. ep. 4 1 , 1
2 T h e information is given in a letter to his sister, ep. 41
88 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

audience and made the old request for a renewal of the supple-
mentary allowances given by the state to the shrines which
were sanctified by tradition. Having in mind his experiences
when visiting Rome, the emperor felt the position at least
worth considering. Ambrose then expressed his own opinion
plainly to his face, and noticeably avoided the court for a few
days, until Theodosius took his side, and refused the request. 1
Ambrose was really acting as the voice of the emperor's
conscience, but it is human nature to silence that voice, and
prevent it speaking too often. Theodosius therefore gave
instructions that, as far as this active and interfering bishop
was concerned, the decisions reached by the imperial consistory
were to be kept strictly private. Ambrose took this very
bitterly, and complained that he was being robbed of his
natural right of hearing, and this made it impossible for him
to speak. But there were certain things which he was unable
to pretend that he had never heard, and the silence imposed
on him caused him serious dilemmas of conscience. 2
This condition of affairs lasted for a while, till an event
which he could not ignore compelled Ambrose to break through
his self-restraint. Owing to the excitement engendered at the
hippodrome at Thessalonika, an uproar had broken out, with
the result that the officer commanding the province of Illyria
had been killed. Theodosius, in his boundless wrath, ordered
that the populace should be gathered in the hippodrome
without raising their suspicions, and that there should be a
massacre by the soldiers. News of it reached Milan at the
very time when a synod of Gallic bishops was in session. All
were deeply moved, and Ambrose decided to act forthwith.
He left Milan shortly before the emperor's arrival, sent him a
lengthy and detailed letter, with a concluding paragraph in
his own hand intended only for Theodosius's eyes. The letter
demanded that he should do penance in the same fashion
as David, a king who had sinned and then repented; mean-
while, Ambrose himself would refuse to celebrate mass in the
emperor's presence. The tone in which he addressed the
emperor was as if he were speaking movingly and seriously
to his godson with whom he had long been on intimate
1 2
Ambr. ep. 57, 4 ibid. ep. 56, 2-4
 SACRUM IMPERIUM 89
1
terms. Theodosius had already shown often enough that he was
not obstinate, and indeed, though he might strike hard when
first aroused, further thought inclined him to clemency. Three
years before, the people of Antioch had broken out into a wild
riot, during which the statues of the emperors were smashed;
as a consequence they were in terror, fearing the worst. But
Bishop Flavian set off to the court, and was successful in
obtaining a full pardon. In Thessalonika, the punishment had
followed disorder only too quickly—but once more the emperor
softened. He submitted to the penance demanded by Ambrose,
went as far as to lay aside the royal insignia for a time, and
confessed his sin publicly in the presence of the congregation. Am-
brose then allowed him to partake of the sacraments once again.
Everyone now saw that in God's assize, and in the utterances
of His earthly messenger no deference was paid to rank. The
church was in a position to triumph as a moral force, and to
congratulate itself on such a bishop and such an emperor.
A straight line runs from Milan to Canossa, and it shows the
interpretation placed by the west on the unity of state and
church. The interpretation is that even the bearer of the
highest office in the state is subject to the ethical command-
ments of the church, just because he is a Christian; in this
way, by God's will, he becomes the instrument and the force
needed to build up a Christian order of society. The practical
implications of this interpretation were not apparent to either
of the two chief actors at Milan; at Canossa, both the pope
and the emperor were aware of the tragic difficulties involved.
The earnestness with which Theodosius felt it, is shown by an
extraordinary edict 2 promulgated on August 18, A.D. 390,
which ordered the postponement of an execution for thirty
days, "lest, contrary to our custom, we have pronounced a
sentence unduly harsh, after duly considering the case". But
the most important consequence of the shock felt in Theodo-
sius's soul during these weeks was surely the law 3 regarding
1
Ambr. ep. 51 also, de obitu Theod. 34 Rufin. H.E. 1 1 , 18 elaborated by
Sozom. 5, 25 greatly expanded by Theodoret, H.E. 5, 1 7 - 1 8 a bare record
in Paulinus, vita Ambr. 24 cf. also Augustine, conf. 5, 26
2
Cod. Theod. 9, 40, 13 Rufin. H.E. 1 1 , 21 For the dating cf. Seeck, Regesten.
p. 92, 44f.
3
ibid. 16, 10, 101 addressed to Albinus P.U. (not P.P.)
go 4. AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

religion, and bearing the date, February 24, A.D. 391, flatly
prohibiting all forms of pagan worship, all kinds of sacrifices,
and even every form of prayer in temples; and it imposed
heavy fines on any office-holders who dared to transgress.
The law was aimed at the city prefect of Rome and was
unmistakably intended to affect the religious attitude of its
aristocracy, who, it will be remembered, had been treated
considerately when Theodosius visited the city as recently as
the summer of A.D. 389. A similar edict1 was addressed on
June 16, A.D. 391, to the civil and military authorities in Egypt.
Until the beginning of the year 388, Kynegius had been
working energetically against paganism in this country, and
his departure was actually the signal for a closer battle; the
Serapeum at Alexandria 2 was destroyed in A.D. 389. Certain
caves used for pagan worship had been discovered by the
Christians, and certain symbols used in the mysteries were
profaned by them; all this led to tumultuous reprisals by the
pagans. People were killed, and several Christians were actually
slaughtered like sacrificial animals before some of the altars of
the gods. The authorities became alarmed, and informed the
emperor; he refrained from punishing the murderers, but
declared the slaughtered Christians to be glorious martyrs,
and demanded that idol-worship should be torn out, root and
branch. The emperor's orders were read out to the people—
and then the Christian part of the populace set about the most
splendid temple in Alexandria, the Serapeum, which proudly
crowned a high terrace. A soldier wielding a sledge-hammer,
smashed the head of a certain statue of a god; and, in spite of
all prophecies and predictions, the skies did not fall in. The
judgment of God fell in full fury on the horrified pagans
among the population. The remaining temples and shrines in
Alexandria were treated in the same way, and the storms of
destruction raged through all the towns and villages, over the
ploughed fields, and even the desert places; the fanes of the
old gods were wiped out. The bishops led the attack, and hosts
of black-skinned monks formed the vanguard. A church was
built on the ruins of the temple of Serapis, together with a
martyr's chapel enshrining the bones of John the Baptist,
1 2
Cod. Theod. 16, i o, 1 1 The chief record is given by Rufin. H.E. 1 1 , 22-30
 SACRUM IMPERIUM 91
which had been discovered by Athanasius in Julian's time.
The sacred Nilometer, which was venerated with superstitious
awe by the entire people, remained unharmed, and was
accorded a place in the Christian basilica.
Theodosius is said to have thanked God that the great
change had been effected without serious damage being
suffered in Alexandria. He saw what could be done in the
east if one did not hesitate to take the bull by the horns. The
law of 391, regarding sacrifices, could be relied on to be
effective in the east. In the autumn of 392, he promulgated a
new decree forbidding sacrifices1 which he sent to Rufinus,
the principal minister in the east. This decree was much more
precise, entered into the smallest details, and placed any and
every form of pagan worship under penalty. The pagan
chancellor, Tatian, was dismissed in June, A.D. 392, and fell
into deep disfavour. His place was taken by Rufinus, a
Christian. After a period of doubt, the sterner measures proved
successful. Even as late as September, A.D. 390, monks had not
been allowed to make their residence in towns, as their public
demonstrations, often accompanied by violence, created
various difficulties for the authorities.2 In April, A.D. 392,
however, the emperor repealed this regulation, representing it
to the authorities as being the result of unwarranted accusa-
tions.3 This action showed plainly the emperor's change of
heart, and be it remembered, after the summer of A.D. 391,
he was once again in harmony with the church at Constanti-
nople. These facts explain why a whole series of laws were
enacted about this period, and were intended to give greater
consequence in public life to the orthodox church and all it
stood for. 4 But it can scarcely be the case that Ambrose was
responsible for all the details.
Meanwhile, a new danger began to threaten the empire in
the west. The death of Valentinian II, in May, A.D. 392, was
in itself enough to give one pause as being a sign of the indepen-
dent sovereignty of Arbogast, the Frankish king; especially as
he was universally held to have murdered the young emperor.
1 2
Cod. Theod. 16, i o, 12 of November, 392 ibid. 16, 3, 1
3
ibid. 16, 3, 2 and compare with Gothofredus
* Lists are given by Seeck, Untergang, 5, 234, and Rauschen, Jahrbücher, 372-76
92 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

Theodosius quietly awaited the inevitable developments, and

set about his preparations for the fateful battle, but without
drawing attention to his actions. T i m e dragged on till August,
before Arbogast decided to act: he then promoted his friend,
Eugenius, the imperial treasurer, and made him the Augustus
of,the west. A n embassy, joined by a deputation of bishops
from G a u l , 1 set off for Constantinople; the men of religion
were commissioned, and they themselves desired, to bear testi-
mony that Arbogast was innocent of Valentinian's death.
Theodosius received the deputation very politely, but sent
them back without a definite answer.
Eugenius approached Ambrose, too, by writing to him
twice, but received no answer in either case. 2 T h e bishop of
Milan had become a person of the first importance in the
church, and therefore in politics. Consequently, he kept in the
background during the present lull. There was a delay of fully
two months after the death of Valentinian II, before Theo-
dosius wrote to the princesses, the sisters of Valentinian, who
were waiting in fear and trembling in Milan, and ordered
interment near Gratian's tomb. This was certainly the occasion,
also, for Ambrose to write to the emperor for the first time. 3
He spoke of his sorrow for the departed, and said that a worthy
sarcophagus was being prepared. His funeral sermon, again,
mentioned only the fine, human and Christian qualities of the
dead man, and of the brother who had preceded him. O n l y
when at length the usurper's forces began to threaten the
safety of many persons, did Ambrose write to him and inter-
vene on behalf of those in danger. This was a course he fre-
quently took; 4 but even then he made no mention of the letters
written by Eugenius.
Eugenius had no other course open than to admit that
Ambrose, the prince of the western church, had no intention
of taking his side, but he was bitterly disillusioned. U p to
this point, he had entertained the hope that, by giving pro-
minence to his Christian inclinations, he would win the
support of the church; and, in fact, his policy seems to have

1 Zosimos, 4, 55, 57 'Rufin. H.E. 1 1 , 3 1 2 Ambr. ep. 57, 11

3 ibid. ep. 53 cf. pars. 4-5, and de obitu Valent. 49
4 ibid. ep. 57, 12 and notes by Campenhausen, Ambrosius 249, n. 1
 AMBROSE AND EUGENIUS 93
succeeded in Gaul. The senate of Rome, on the other hand,
which had just been faced with Theodosius's decree forbidding
sacrifices, were relying on Eugenius's support and blessing, in
view of the fact that he had formerly been a professor in Rome,
and a representative of ancient and traditional culture. The
senate therefore confidently drew his attention to their old
request for a renewed grant of moneys in support of the temple
worship—but were rebuffed. The effort was repeated, and
again turned down. It was obvious that Eugenius had learned
the lesson which his predecessors had been taught, viz., that
this question was a point of honour in the public policy of the
church as represented by Ambrose. The Romans, however,
stubbornly maintained their position; moreover their sup-
porters were of such a strength that their influence was by no
means negligible. Eugenius conceived a plan which, he
thought, would steer him between Scylla and Charybdis: he
himself made a present of the sum needed, and sent it to the
right honourable gentlemen o f the pagan persuasion.
Ambrose seized on this as the occasion for an open declara-
tion of war. When Eugenius was approaching Milan in the
spring of A.D. 393, the bishop left the city, and made his way,
first to Bologna, and then via Faenza to Florence. 1 He sent
Eugenius a formal letter of protest, 2 in which he detailed the
whole business of the petitions that had been preferred by the
senate, and characterized the conduct of the new ruler as
disobedience to God and betrayal of Christ. He added that
he had expected this kind of attitude in Eugenius from the
start, and had consequently left his letters unanswered. In
writing like this, he spoke and acted in an entirely unfriendly
manner; it could not be otherwise than clear, from now
onwards, that Ambrose had adopted precisely the same policy
to the usurper as Theodosius had done, and was now carrying
that policy to its logical conclusion.
Eugenius could no longer depend on any semblance of
sympathetic support from the churches of Italy. He therefore
began to play another suit: he nominated Virius Nicomachus
Flavianus 3 as chancellor of Italy; this man was related to the
family of Symmachus, and had twice been a prefect under
1 Paulinus, vita Ambr. 27 2 A m b r . ep. 57 3 Seeck in Pauly-Wissowa, 6,2506, n. 1 4
94 4- AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

Theodosius; he also enjoyed a distinguished reputation as a

writer. His taste for the occult learning of the ancients, and
for theology of a Platonic kind, marked him out as an appropri-
ate leader of those reactionary pagans w h o were striving for
the kind of ideals for w h i c h J u l i a n h a d stood. A reactionary
movement of this kind was now initiated with the greatest
zeal. Flames once again flickered on the altars, and the entrails
of sacrificial animals were read as showing signs f a v o u r a b l e to
Eugenius's victory. 1 A Greek oracle was in circulation to the
effect that the worship of Christ would die out after 365 years,
i.e. circa A.D. 395. 2 A p o e m is extant composed b y a Christian,
expressing his indignation at the new lease of life given to
paganism b y Flavian, and interpreting his early death as a
retribution. 3 W h e n Arbogast and Flavian left M i l a n in order
to march against Theodosius, they threatened, on returning
victorious, to turn the churches into stables and make the
clergy into soldiers. 4
T h e policy that had been followed in the struggle for power
had led, thanks to the conduct of Ambrose, to a w a r of religion.
T h e decisive battle was fought on the W i p p a c h (Frigidus) in
the Karst, when Eugenius's troops carried standards of Jupiter
and Hercules. 5 Theodosius, on the other hand, felt himself to
be a warrior of Christ; he marched on to the field after being
blessed and promised the victory in a prophecy uttered b y a
hermit held in high respect, w h o lived in the T h e b a n desert.
Before this utterance, Theodosius, accompanied by clergy
and people, had ofTered intercessory prayers at the graves of
the Apostles and martyrs. A n d , indeed, the victory he gained
seemed to him to be miraculous, and to have been brought
about b y the sudden onset of an Alpine hurricane which
defeated and destroyed the enemy. Eugenius was taken pri-
soner in flight, and was immediately beheaded (September 6,
A.D. 394); so also, both Arbogast and Flavian perished. 4
Immediately after Eugenius had left Milan, Ambrose re-
turned to his episcopal throne: it was at the beginning of
1 Rufin. H.E. 11, 33 Sozom. 7, 22, 4 - 5 2 Augustine cir. dei 18, 53
3 Mommsen, Ges. Sehr. 7, 485-98; O . Barkowski, de carmine adv. Flavianum.
Diss. Königsberg, 1912
4 Paulinus, vita Ambr. 31 ' 5 Augustine, civ. dei 5, 26 Theod. H.E. 5, 24, 4. 17
«Rufin. H.E. I i , 32, 33
 EMPEROR AND BISHOP 95
August. T h e decisive blow fell about five weeks later. T h e o -
dosius sent w o r d to A m b r o s e of the j u d g m e n t that G o d h a d
a w a r d e d . A m b r o s e took the emperor's letter a n d kept it in his
h a n d w h i l e celebrating mass, in order to c o m b i n e the king's
thanks in the sacrament w i t h that of the priest. B o t h men, in
taking u p this attitude, were of the deepest earnestness a n d
reverence, a n d e a c h was a w a r e of the hold t h a t he h a d on the
other. T h e e m p e r o r supposed the bishop to be still far a w a y ,
because he h a d not assured h i m of complete confidence in the
victory of the eastern a r m y — h e had not e v e n h a d it himself.
But n o w A m b r o s e was in a position p r o u d l y to inform h i m
t h a t he h a d b e e n certain of the h a p p y issue. T r u e to his d u t y
as a bishop, w h e n he offered his congratulations, he added a
petition for m e r c y on any of the enemy w h o h a d repented and
fled for protection to the church. 1 T h e bishop himself followed
in the w a k e of his letters, and went as far as A q u i l e i a . W h e n
t h e y met, t h e e m p e r o r threw himself on the g r o u n d at his
feet, a n d d e c l a r e d that he owed the victory to the bishop's
merits a n d the bishop's p r a y e r — a t least, that is w h a t Paulinus
says in his b i o g r a p h y of A m b r o s e . 2 Nor is it inconceivable.
T h e lesson that t h e bishop h a d once read h i m h a d sunk in so
far that, e v e n after the battle on the W i p p a c h , Theodosius
w i t h h e l d f r o m p a r t a k i n g of the sacrament, o n account of the
b l o o d t h a t h a d been shed; b u t w h e n his sons returned in
safety, he r e g a r d e d this h a p p y issue as a sign of divine p a r d o n . 3
T h e r e seems to h a v e been a certain a m o u n t of hesitation in
the e m p e r o r ' s character in glaring contrast with the forth-
rightness o f A m b r o s e ; but no one c a n d e n y the emperor's
honesty o f heart in trying to do his duty as a Christian. A t the
v e r y b e g i n n i n g of the c a m p a i g n , he received a shattering
memento mori: his consort, G a l l a , to w h o m he was passionately
d e v o t e d , died in childbirth; and the child itself was still-born.
H e h i m s e l f suffered from diabetes, and s u c c u m b e d to this
disease on J a n u a r y 17, A.D. 395. Severe earthquakes h a d
s h a k e n E u r o p e in the preceding a u t u m n , and were universally
r e g a r d e d as omens of his d e a t h . 4 A m b r o s e b e g a n b y referring

1A-tribr. ep. 6 1 . 62 2 Paulinus, vita Ambro. 31 3 A m b r . de obitu Theod. 34

4Z<osimos 4, 5 7 , 3 Philostorgius II, 2 Socrates 5, 26, 4 A m b r . de obitu
Theod. 1 Chron. min. 2, 64
g6 4. AMBROSE AND THEODOSIUS

to this fact when preaching at the memorial service in Milan;

he depicted the emperor, who had gone home to heaven, as
the pattern of a Christian ruler. His life could be summed up
in his dying words, " I have loved", understood in the sense of
Paul's saying, " L o v e is the fulfilment of the l a w " (Rom.
3: 10). Ambrose spoke of his readiness to forgive, his merciful
spirit, his humility before God; and then went on to depict
him in heaven; how he greeted those of his children who had
died before him, his father, and finally the Emperor Constan-
tine. This was followed by a panegyric on Helena, who had
found Christ's «cross, and who had the sacred nails made into
a bridle and a diadem: crown jewels which ever after were
the insignia of the Christian emperors. T h e solemn service
was attended by Honorius, who was ten years old, and his
guardian, Stilicho, who was both generalissimo and brother-
in-law; and Ambrose did not forget to urge them to carry out
the last political decrees issued by Theodosius. Ambrose
stressed this point in a matter-of-fact way that seems repellant
at first blush, but that certainly issued from the core of his
personality. He was a born statesman, and a statesman by the
tradition of his family. He was certainly one of the great men
of human history, even before he became a bishop, and he by
no means regarded his office as a sinecure when he was the
pastor and the political confidant of three emperors. T h a t was
also a fact of which the emperors themselves were very con-
scious. Theodosius was not wrong in giving way to this man,
in whom the classical dignity proper to the Roman sense of
what the state demands was combined with a profoundly
earnest, Christian conception of the meaning of life. His
funeral oration on Theodosius was, in a certain sense, Ambrose's
own testament on church and politics. He left at once the
scene where statesmanship played the grand role, and devoted
himself exclusively to his episcopal duties and to literary work.
In rather more than two years, on April 4, A.D. 397, he fol-
lowed Theodosius to the other side. His age is not certain in
tradition; but it appears most probable that he had begun his
sixty-fourth year. 1 He had been a bishop for 23 years.
1 Rauschen, Jahrbücher, 273 n. 7
 Chapter Five

POPULAR CHRISTIANITY IN THE FOURTH CENTURY

T HE FOURTH CENTURY WAS THE CRITICAL PERIOD

introducing those changes which shaped the Christian
church and determined the character of its relation to the
FOR

western type of civilization. U p to the time of Constantine,

the church had been a voluntary fellowship of Christian
believers held together by forces that were born in their own
hearts. The forms in which it was organized, and the spirit
with which it breathed, were a consequence of its own nature;
this was the case even as regards those elements which it
adopted from the world round about. Although on all formal
grounds the church was subject to the authority of the state,
yet it preserved a feeling of being different. This was the cause
on account of which it suffered persecutions from time to time,
and lay under a general interdict of illegality. A person joining
the church did so at the risk of his position in life, sometimes
even of his physical survival. In addition, he had to relinquish
many of the pleasures which could be indulged when morals
were not a consideration, and he had to adopt instead a strict
self-discipline. This sort of thing repelled the man in the street,
and attracted only persons of a greater depth of character.
To become a Christian included and required taking a
decision of a genuinely ethical kind, and the churches had
much justification for regarding themselves as a company of
the elect.
From the moment when Constantine changed the course of
the ship of state, and not only recognized the church, but gave
it public favour; and, in particular, from the time when
Thcodosius made Christianity the sole religion of the state,
the entire situation was radically altered. U p to then, it had
required courage to join the church; but from now onwards,
this quality was needed, rather, in refusing to join. To profess
the Christian faith began to serve as a testimonial to one's
suitability for worldly affairs, and for an official career. Large
G
98 5- POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

numbers in good society laid emphasis on church activity—in

short, the church grew into an essential element of public
life, an element forming part of the very world which she had
combated obstinately up to that point.
T h e change could not continue for very long without
affecting the spiritual life of the church itself; the great crowds
who now streamed into its fellowship, and by the sheer weight
of their numbers, moulded her spiritual endowment to meet
their own needs, needs which arose from feelings rooted in
nature-religions. T h e sacraments were held in higher esteem
than ever before as the church's chief means of salvation; the
consequence being that the gulf was widened which separated
the baptized, fully-accepted Christian from the great masses of
the populace among the catechumens waiting to be received
as members. It had always been the practicc that only baptized
persons were admitted to the service of the Lord's Supper;
this service was now invested with secrecy, and the secrecy
was systematically extended to include further elements.
Preachers adopted the habit of using the phrase, " T h e initiated
will understand my meaning", when referring in public to
matters connected with the sacraments. Even the rite of
baptism came to be shrouded in mystery, and candidates
under instruction were warned not to impart to catechumens
anything that they were taught. 1 In particular, the baptismal
confession of faith (?the "Apostles' Creed"), was not written
down but committed to memory. 2 Learning this symbol by
heart was a custom practised in the first epoch of the church,
and is paedogogically sound. It gave rise, during the ceremony
itself, to a special act, known as the Traditio Symboli, in which
the creed was solemnly recited to the hearers for them to
memorize the wording. A week later, came the Reddiiio Symboli,
when the text was repeated aloud by each in turn. 3
T h e secret character of the sacrifice of the mass and of the
Lord's Supper was emphasized, with considerable psycho-

1 C y r i l of Jerusalem, prokatechtsis 12
2 Cyril, Katech. 5, 12 cf. Jerome, c. Joh. Hieros. 28 Rufin. expl. symboli 2 p. 54,
Vallarsi and e v e n Iren. 3, 4, 1 - 2 Augustine, sermo 212, 2 214. 1
3 R i t u a l in sacramentarium Gelasianum n. 35 (p. 53, ed. H . A . Wilson 1, 539
Muratori), and missale Gallicanum vetus n. 11 (2, 710 Muratori cf. R u f i n .
explic. symb. 3 p. 5 5 V a i l . Augustine, conf. 8, 2, 5 C o n e . Laodic. canon 46
 BAPTISM OF ADULTS 99
logical effect, by the custom, now being introduced, of veiling
the altar behind a curtain. A subordinate item in this tendency
was that the Lord's Prayer, which was used in the rite of the
mass, was withdrawn from use by the generality of Christians.
It was reserved for the use of baptized persons, on the ground
that they alone 1 had the right to call God Father. In many
places, it came about that the Lord's Prayer, together with
the creed, formed the substance of the Traditio and the Redditio.2
That fact makes it perfectly obvious that the whole business of
secrecy was only a superficial device, a mere matter of outer
form. O f course, the Lord's Prayer, at all times and in all
places, was known to everyone, including catechumens; and it
was expounded in complete detail by preachers in fully-
attended public worship—which was never done with the
creed. But every chance was eagerly seized of displaying the
character of the "initiated" who attended the sacrament, as
something distinct from the masses of merely mundane persons
whose due place was among the catechumens; and there was a
tendency to demand that, though the unbaptized might indeed
know the Lord's Prayer, yet they were not to repeat it
themselves. 3
All phenomena of this kind are to be understood partly by
reference to the prevailing air which favoured mysticism; and,
more importantly, as a device of the church when seeking a
means of self-defence against the incoming floods of people
who wished for nothing more than a formal conversion to
Christianity. If this last was in fact all they wanted, they
could be content with remaining catechumens; but even as
such, they were subject to the church's ethical discipline which,
on occasion, was stringent enough.
T h e underlying cause of separation into two groups like
this was that a certain early Christian principle continued to
operate in full force, viz., that only those adults should be
baptized who had received catechetical instruction in advance,
and who, of their own free will, desired to receive the sacra-
ment. Since the power of baptism to annul sin was universally
1 J o h . C h r y s . in Mat. hom. 19, 5 (7, 252c Montf.) Theodoret, haeret. fabul. 5,
28 (4, 479 Schulzc)
2 A u g u s t i n e , sermo 56, 1 57, 1. 2 58, 1 59, 1
3 see footnote 1, above, and very emphatically, const. Apost. 8, 34, 11
IOO 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

insisted on most emphatically, it seemed advisable to delay

this crucial act to the last possible moment. Those who, like
the Emperor Constantine, received the sacrament of baptism
on their death-bed, might hope to enter heaven without s i n —
if only because they had no chance of sinning again. T h a t is
how the majority felt; with the result that preachers continually
uttered warnings against playing in this dangerous w a y on
God's patience; and they never wearied of rebutting the
various excuses made by people who kept on delaying to
accept the duties of the fully Christian state. 1 Infant baptism
was, it is true, recommended as the safest means of sanctifying
the body and soul of those who were growing up, 2 but the
advice was seldom followed. Augustine, as a little boy, was
once taken seriously ill, and he was immediately prepared for
baptism; when however the danger passed with equal sudden-
ness, the sacred rite was again deferred. 3 Numberless are the
inscriptions telling of the administration of baptism immedi-
ately before death took place, 4 at all ages from the first to the
fortieth year. Junius Bassus, prefect of the city of Rome,
whose beautiful sarcophagus is well known, received baptism
on his death-bed at the age of 42 in A.D. 359. 6 Throughout the
early centuries, adult baptism was the rule; children were not
usually baptized unless they fell ill.
In this way a new possibility was afforded the church. T h e
preaching services were available for the people in general,
but now it was feasible to give further and more detailed
instruction to those few, more earnest Christians who were
being prepared for baptism. We can draw on these very
instructions as fruitful source-documcnts revealing the kind of
religion which the church wished to bring to life in the souls
of believers; they enable us to complete essential details of the
pictures which can be deduced from the sermons. Records
made by laymen themselves would have been of the greatest
interest and importance, but practically all have been lost.

1 Basil, hom. 13, 5 - 7 (2, I i 7 f f . Garnier) Greg. Naz. or. 40, 11-12, 20-21
(1, GgGf. 7o6f. Bened.) J. Chrysost. ad ilium, catech. 1, 1 (2, 226d>
2 Greg. Naz. or. 40, 28 (1, 713^) 3 A u g . conf. 1 , 1 1 , 1 7 cf. the story in 4, 4, 8
4 Brought together by Diehl, Inscr. lat. christ. cap. 7, Nos. 1477-1509, and

Nos. 1523-43 C . Wessel, Inscr. graec. christ. Nos. 359ff.

6 Diehl, No. 90
 CYRIL OF JERUSALEM IOI

It might be thought that inscriptions would be promising

sources of information, but on account of their brevity and of
their formal and stilted language, little can be gained from
them. We must be content with making inferences from what
preachers taught and from the forms in which worship was
cast, and deduce what must have been the spiritual qualities
of church-going people. If the hints drawn from various
sources combine into a self-consistent whole, the likelihood is
that we have got somewhere near the facts.
We shall turn in the first instance to the source which is at
once the oldest and at the same time the richest and most
instructive authority: the catechisms or "catechetical lectures"
of Cyril of Jerusalem, dating from the middle of the fourth
century, and used, about A.D. 350, in the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre. 1 T h e bishop was well aware that by no means all
his candidates for baptism were impelled by the purest motives.
M a n y attended out of sheer curiosity; some were influenced
by others, and desired to please either a friend, or in the case
of slaves, their masters; others were brought into this circle
by the hope of a marriage which they desired. None of these
things threw dust into the preacher's eyes. But no matter
what the bait was, he cast his line in the hope that even the
superficial would be caught by the seriousness of the times of
instruction. For the presumption that took precedence of all
else was that anyone who had made up his mind to use the
forty days of fasting in Lent for ousting his usual failings and
sins, and who took himself seriously to task, was ready to do
penance. Baptism was a rite performed but once in a Christian's
life-time; its only pre-supposition was the right desire, but this
was needed unconditionally. Therefore, from now onwards,
avoid every evil deed, including those of the tongue and the
eye. 2 In this way, the period of instruction in the catechism
would be one of moral self-discipline. But this again was
accompanied by the mystic allure of the ritual. Every period
of instruction was preceded by the exorcism of each individual:
his head was veiled in a cloth; formulas of adjuration, drawn
from the Bible, were pronounced; the bishop breathed on
him. T h e n the demon fled away, sin yielded, and the Holy
1 vide V o l . 3, 246 2 C y r i l , procatech. 1 - 8
102 5- POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

Spirit entered with salvation and the hope of eternal life. 1

T h e mystic acts and the efforts of the inner self were com-
bined into a unity: that was a characteristic feature of this
form of religion as promoted by the church, and it was a form
that adopted the idiom of nature-religion. T h i s fact also
explains why a warning was given against chattering about the
esoteric experiences now about to be entered: " f o r we are
handing on to thee a mystery, a hope of the A g e to Come;
guard the mystery from those w h o would waste this p r i z e " —
an exhortation aimed particularly at keeping the secret faith-
fully. 2 But the preacher's main purpose re-echoes again and
again, no matter what the phrases employed: the strengthening
of the will to moral endeavour. 3 T h a t is what forms the entire
content of the first catechism: it urges, go to confession without
delay; avail yourself of the exorcisms always; lay aside all
mundane concern; use the period of Lent just for striving for
the salvation of your soul; forgive your personal enemies; and
feed your soul by reading the Bible. 4 Sin is an evil thing that
buds forth out of our own freedom of will; we bear full,
personal responsibility for it, and this even when the devil
leads us astray by the guile of his temptations. 6 We are chal-
lenged therefore to obtain forgiveness of sin by voluntary
repentance. Forgiveness takes place during baptism, and
salvation is impossible without baptism. Cyril expounded the
sixth chapter of Romans in order to explain the rite: the sinner
was submerged in the water just as Jesus was buried in the
grave carved out of the rock; he left his own sins behind there,
just as Jesus buried the world's sins there. Still following the
example of the Lord, the baptized person came up out of the
water, and began a new life. This life was lived in the power
of the Holy Spirit, which enabled him always to gain the
victory over the hostile forces. In the course of his struggles,
the baptized Christian naturally can, and will, make pro-
gress, and will grow in grace. 6 It was in the course of the
liturgy, and during the petitions to Christ and the Father, that
the water received the power to perform this miracle. A n d the
general context suggests that even a virtuous man would be
1
C y r i l , Procatech. 9 2 ibid. 12 3 ibid. 15 4 ibid. I, s f . 6 ibid. 2, 1 - 4
8 ibid. 3, 1 2 - 1 4
 FAITH

unable to enter the Kingdom of Heaven without the seal of

baptism. 1 The sacramental rite alone takes the moral impulse,
which is proper to the will of the natural man and which it is
the purpose of catechetical instruction to arouse, and trans-
forms that impulse into a Christian effort which God rewards—
but all depends on the man himself first exercising his own
will. When he once belongs to the fellowship of those who have
been baptized, the heavenly powers of sacramental grace will
carry him forward step by step. Christians live on the religious
teaching they have received and the good works they perform:
the one without the other is worthless. 2
The foundations having thus been laid down, we now begin
on theological instruction in the church's articles of faith,
given in the twelve catechisms that follow the Apostles' Creed.
A summary statement of the subject-matter precedes the fourth
article, and a discussion of the nature of faith precedes the
fifth. The word faith, we are told, had a twofold connotation: 3
(i) on the side of dogma, it consisted of the believing acceptance
of the gospel-message that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that God
raised him from the dead. Accepting this teaching brings
salvation and admits to paradise; and no doubts must be
entertained whether this was possible, (ii) It means a gift of
divine grace which can "move mountains", i.e. bring about
superhuman events and work miracles. There is a solid basis
here in the Bible. Moreover, the preacher went on to say that
the baptismal Creed contains, in summary form, "the whole
dogma of the faith" as handed down by the church; nor did
he forget to add that that dogma was confirmed by the whole
of Scripture. 4
The doctrine of God was defended, in accordance with the
needs of the times, against heretics and Manichaean dualism;
on the other hand, polytheism was given short shrift—it was
nought but a foe that had long been vanquished. God, as
creator and sustainer of the universe; God, the invisible, the
perfect, the One who patiently bears with wickedness, is
revealed to our eyes in the Bible and in nature. 6 But we must
not forget that everything we say about Him is confined to
the limits of our human nature and its weakness, and that no
1 2 3 4 5
catech. 3, 3 - 4 ibid. 4, 2 ibid. 5, 10-11 ibid. 5, 12 ibid. 9
IC>4 5- POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

praise we can offer H i m on e a r t h is equal to t h e adoration

which is His due. 1 Moreover, this inability of ours extends to
o u r u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the relation between the F a t h e r a n d the
Son: we can give no explanation as to how the Son was begot-
ten, b u t can only say w h a t it was not. From the standpoint
of the Nicene Creed, it becomes clear that Cyril of J e r u s a l e m
was less t h a n orthodox, in as far as he used the t e r m homoios.
Subsequently, he warned his hearers, on one occasion, not
to tussle with a n d waste time over the concepts of physis
a n d hypostasis, since never once were they mentioned in the
Bible. 2
I t was Cyril's unremitting concern to base all his doctrines
on t h e Bible, and he ended by plainly over-emphasizing
w h a t was good in itself; the result being that he wearied his
readers. 3 But his exhortation to read the Scriptures diligently
is well w o r t h while noting as an indication of his conception
of the pastoral office; 4 it shows, at the same time, that Bibles
or at least portions of Scripture were not rare in the homes of
the m e m b e r s of his church. With the same objective in mind,
he also provided a list of the canonical books of the Bible,
a n d uttered an earnest w a r n i n g not to read uncanonical
writings. 5 H e answered the question, which could not help
being raised: W h y God became man, and, naturally, did so in
terms of the Bible. God, the Logos, came here below to redeem
sinful m a n k i n d . H e changed His divine glory, a n d assumed a
h u m a n form in order that we might be able to bear His glance.
T h e body of flesh was the organ of which the devil m a d e use
against us; a n d the Lord assumed our flesh that it might learn
to feel the power of the godhead, and that thus it might
become the instrument of our salvation. 6 T h e r e is even a
premonition of Anselm's dilemma in the statement that choice
was confined to two courses: either God h a d to persist in His
threats to punish sinners, and destroy them all; or else, H e
must show His mercy, and repeal His verdict. 7
T o people of that generation, Christ's death on the cross
was no longer a scandalous thing; the cross had long become
1 2
catech. 6, 3 - 4 ibid. 11, 11 4, 7 16, 2 4
3 4
ibid. 17, 1. 2 0 . 3 0 16, 25. 32 18, 17. 3 0 ibid, 9, 13 cf. 1, 5 17, 3 4
5 0 7
'bid. 4 , 3 3 - 3 6 ibid. 12, 4. 1 4 - 1 5 ibid. 13, 3 3
 THE LAST JUDGMENT IO5

an emblem of salvation, an emblem which the very demons

acknowledged with fear and trembling. 1 And now, particularly
in Jerusalem, where the relics of the cross were treasured up,
where all could see Golgotha, the house of Caiaphas, the
judgment hall of Pilate, and the Holy Sepulchre; here, the
story of the Passion, with its prophecy and its fulfilment in the
Bible, was something that stood out before one's eyes; and
moreover, all was penetrated by the fundamental confession:
I confess the cross because I have had experience of the
Resurrection. 2 Doubts had no place here, nor did even Christ's
áscension imply that He was remote from the church. " H e is
here, in our midst; and He hears what we say about Him, and
perceives what you think in private thought, and He tests
heart and reins. He is ready, O you who want to be baptized,
to bring you by the Holy Spirit into the presence of the Father,
and to say, Lo, here I am, and the children God has given
me".3
But at the last day, He would come to judge the living and
all who had died since Adam; He would judge men and angels.
They must refuse all inquisitive arts which attempted to
determine when that day would come, for the Father had
reserved the date to Himself alone. Scripture enumerated the
signs of that time, and those who took a glance round about
themselves would see with terror how that the foreshadowed
declensions were taking place, and how invasions by pagans,
schisms in churches, hatred between brethren, were proclaiming
the approach of Antichrist. 4 When the signs had been com-
pleted according to the Scriptures, the incorruptible Judge
would appear. " T h o u hast no need to fear Him if thou hast
bravely wrestled and laboured. Nothing of that effort is lost.
In the Book is the record of every prayer, every psalm, every
almsgiving, every fast, every true marriage, and every widow-
hood borne for God's sake; and virginity and continence are
crowned with honour. But on the opposite page, the Book
contains the record of all whoredom, all perjury, blasphemy,
witchcraft, robbery, murder—these are things which annul
the benefits of baptism: woe when wicked deeds return. Keep
your eyes on the road that lies before you. It will lead you either
1 catech. 13, 3. 36 cf. ibid. 17, 35 2 ibid. 13, 4 3 ibid. 14, 30 4 ibid. 15, 18
106 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

to the K i n g d o m of Heaven, or else to the Everlasting Fire.

Now is the time to live according to Christ's everlasting
commandments." 1
When the preacher came to the third article, he felt bound
to deal with the living issues of his time: he entered into
polemics against heretics, and discussed the Trinity. But he
did this with much restraint, and soon turned to expound
things said in the Bible, giving in great detail the passages of
Scripture dealing with the Holy Spirit. In the course of these
remarks, he made it quite plain to his hearers that spirit
(pneuma) was an ambiguous word in itself: it meant every kind
of thing that had no definite body, and therefore connoted
wicked demons as well as human souls, the wind, also heavenly
beings, and the Holy Spirit. 2 This passage shows how close his
theology was to popular thought. We can see, and he himself
discussed the point later, how it is possible for a person who
possessed the Holy Spirit, to use the spiritual force within
himself, overpower a demon by prayer, and banish him simply
by breathing on him. 3 T h a t was the bishop's own practice
when exorcizing.
T h e hope of resurrection from the dead was felt to be
something of which there could be no doubt; proofs were
afforded by numerous examples drawn from nature; and then
resurrection was demonstrated from Scripture. This hope also
provided an incentive for living a good life; nay, it was "the
root of good conduct", because it presented the soul with a
concrete hope of reward. Moreover, it was the present body
that was promised resurrection, and the believer would be
careful not to defile it by immorality, or disfigure it by the
scars of sin. 4 " T h e eternal life in which we believe is the
guerdon of victory promised by the Lord to those who win in
the Christian contest (agon) on earth." 6 Here is an early
Christian metaphor which had retained its force.
O n the other hand, the inspired imagery of which the
ancients had made use when paying, their tributes to the
church, had wilted in memory. True, she is described as a
catholic, i.e. universal, institution for teaching and defending
the articles of faith with which the people should be familiar;
1 catech. 15, 23. 26 2 ibid. 16, 15 3 ibid. 16, 19 4 ibid. 18, 1. 20 6 ibid. 18, 28
 THE CHURCH 107

she healed all sinners of their hurts in body and soul; she pos-
sessed in herself every kind of virtue, and this could find
expression in deeds, words, and the gifts of spiritual grace; 1
lastly, the title "catholic" showed that she was different from
each and every heretical institution. So the listeners were told,
complete with illustrations drawn from the Bible; but it sounds
unimpressive and dull as compared with the heartfelt paeans
of prai e belonging to the past. Nor were solid reasons lacking:
when the word, church, was used in the early days, the image
called up was of a fellowship that had come down from heaven
to earth, and that consisted of those who were united together
in Christ. By contrast, when Cyril 2 thought about the church,
it was the church which, though it had once been persecuted
"now lived at peace and by God's grace; and also, as was her
due, now enjoyed honours paid her by the emperor, by high
officials, and by all races and peoples of mankind". It is plain
that, here, the religious sense of the word had begun to pale.
The decline of meaning did not take place at the same time
in the west; rather, in that region, a classical doctrine of the
church had been worked out in the period which began with
Cyprian and extended to Augustine.
The theology expounded by Cyril to his baptismal candi-
dates was one suitable for a simple laity of humble education.
It put the whole force of early Christian discipline into an
effort to gain improved ethical standards, and to induce
ceaseless endeavours for attaining the highest levels of conduct.
We are shown the dangers of the kind of seductions that sprang
out of the former lives of the people and out of the pagan
background. We can trace the high seriousness contained in
the threats about the coming Day of Judgment with which
Cyril, as a pastor of souls, enforced his warnings against sin.
The whole of the period of the Forty Days (tesserakoste)3 was
to be a time of self-examination and of real repentance; and
various external devices were adopted towards this end. In
spite of all the emphasis on the fact that we enjoyed unlimited
responsibility for our own selves, it was made quite indubitable
that the ethical program could only be carried out with
the help of the miracles experienced in the sacraments. Baptism
1 catech. 18, 23 2 ibid. 18, 27 3 vide V o l . 3, 311
108 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

was needed in the first place to get rid of the a c c u m u l a t i o n of

sins already there, a n d give a clean, new start. After t h a t , the
re-born h u m a n will would be able to walk in God's ways
thanks to the Holy Spirit.
T h e "mystagogical" catechisms were used for instructing
the newly-baptized between Easter M o n d a y and the following
Friday, a n d were the means of introducing t h e m into the r e a l m
of the sacramental secrets. T h e ceremonies proper to t h e rite
of baptism, 1 with their symbolism arising from nature-religions,
were b r o u g h t again to m i n d with the idea of giving a spiritual
interpretation; a n d m u c h was now said of all the temptations
with which the devil lies in wait for the u n a r m e d Christian.
These included the seductive plays shown in the theatres and
a n d low music halls, the blood-stained trade of the gladiators
a n d the fighters with animals, the sheer break-neck madness
of the horse-races. Even p a r t a k i n g in the foods that h a d been
oiFered to idols might lead one into danger, for such foods
were the resort of demons which had been exorcized in the
temple. Woe to those w h o offered prayer in a p a g a n shrine,
lighted candles or b u r n e d incense at holy wells in accordance
with ancient custom, in order to get rid of some illness! A list
of all the black arts was then provided: divination by birds,
fortune-telling, necromancy, amulets, rings with magic stones,
and all other kinds of witchcraft. This was the sort of thing
t h a t seethed r o u n d about and that was practised by people
w h o were Christian only in n a m e . T h e church's mysticism of
the sacraments was now contrasted with these pagan practices;
the ceremonies began with the rite of exorcism, which included
b r e a t h i n g on the candidate a n d anointing him with holy oil.
This oil, " w h e n the n a m e of God was invoked (epiklesis) and
p r a y e r offered, not only wiped out the traces of sin, but even
abolished all the invisible effects brought about by the Evil
O n e " . 2 Moreover, m y r r h (chrisma) was consecrated by epiklesis
in the same way, a n d was smeared on the candidate's forehead,
ears, nose, and chest when he came u p out of the baptistry;
a n d this m y r r h was the material means used by the Holy Spirit
for bringing heavenly gifts to the new-born. T h e bishop
expressly t a u g h t that this oil, when given the epiklesis by the
1 2
vide V o l . 3, 309 Cat. myst. 2, 3
 THE EUCHARIST

priest, b e c a m e the vehicle o f s a c r a m e n t a l p o w e r s j u s t as w a s

the case w i t h the b r e a d a n d w i n e a t t h e L o r d ' s S u p p e r .
T h e door is b e i n g p u s h e d o p e n , b e f o r e o u r v e r y eyes, t h r o u g h
w h i c h the c o n c r e t e , materialistic ideas o f n a t u r e - r e l i g i o n p e n e -
trated into C h r i s t i a n i t y . J u s t b e c a u s e these materialistic c o n -
ceptions satisfied the p r i m i t i v e needs o f the n a t u r a l m a n , t h e y
c a m e in a n d took the places left v a c a n t w h e n the p a g a n ideas
were ousted. T h e o p e n i n g of the doors in this w a y f a c i l i t a t e d
the m i g r a t i o n of the masses across to C h r i s t i a n i t y ; b u t it
involved, at the s a m e time, a serious d a n g e r for t h a t r e l i g i o n
i f it should b e unsuccessful in l e a d i n g the n e w converts f r o m
these low levels to the heights b e y o n d . T h e best m e n o f the
f o u r t h c c n t u r y h a d this o b j e c t i v e in v i e w , a n d t h e y c e r t a i n l y
did w h a t they c o u l d even t h o u g h t h e y themselves w e r e d e e p l y
i n v o l v e d in the toils of this v e r y r i t u a l i s m . T h e w h o l e f a r r a g o
o f d e d i c a t i n g , anointing, b r e a t h i n g , crossing oneself, was r e a l l y
a low u n d e r g r o w t h , h i g h a b o v e w h i c h g r e w the l o f t y a n d
majestic rite o f the E u c h a r i s t . B u t the hearers w e r e i n s t r u c t e d
w i t h emphasis t h a t a n y m a n w h o d i d as t h e c h u r c h t a u g h t ,
a n d d e v o u t l y e n t e r e d into t h e spirit o f a c h u r c h service, w i t h
its d r a m a t i c structure c r o w n e d as it w a s b y t h e m y s t e r y a n d
the presence of the L o r d in the e l e m e n t s ; w h o p a r t o o k o f t h e
m i r a c u l o u s food a n d drink in the c o m m u n i o n service, a n d felt
t h a t he h a d b e c o m e a v e h i c l e o f C h r i s t (Christophoros); a n d h a d
o b t a i n e d a share in the d i v i n e n a t u r e ; 1 t h a t m a n w a s a c c o u t r e d
for a g e n u i n e Christian a d v a n c e .
T h e Christianity o f this o r d e r f o u n d its inspiration in t h e
m i r a c u l o u s effects ascribed to the s a c r a m e n t o f the E u c h a r i s t .
T h e t e a c h i n g was quite i n d e p e n d e n t o f the rules o f logic, b u t
m a d e direct appeals to m e n to use their f r e e d o m o f w i l l 2 for
reaching c o m p l e t e self-mastery, a n d l i v i n g h e r o i c a l l y o n t h e
h i g h e s t m o r a l p l a n e . A t the s a m e t i m e it w a s f i r m l y b e l i e v e d
t h a t this d e m a n d could only b e m e t b y a p o t h e o s i z i n g h u m a n
n a t u r e s a c r a m e n t a l l y . But he w h o e n t e r e d on this w a r f a r e
a g a i n s t sin a n d the devil c o u l d feel c e r t a i n o f a h e a v e n l y
r e w a r d ; a n d , f r o m the first, he c o u l d b e sure o f b e i n g buttressed
b y the miracle o f the s a c r a m e n t , t h e most precious j e w e l

1 Cat. myst. 4, 3
2 catech. 2, 1 - 2 4, 18-21; attacks on original sin 4, i g f . 12, 26
IIO 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

possessed by a Christian believer. His life as a whole, as well

as every single "good work", would receive its reward.
The ideas expounded by Cyril in his catechisms correspond
completely with the universal tenor of Christian teaching in
the fourth century. They reappear everywhere, with variations
which do not affect the substance; and the ideas were to be
found also among writers in the west. For all its simplicity,
Cyril's scholarship was somewhat pretentious; but if one allows
for this fact, his sketch affords a picture of the essentials of
Christianity as conceived by earnest and mature believers; it
shows their concern to keep unsullied the grace received at
baptism, and to earn the reward of a virtuous life. Some
districts were more markedly affected by current theological
controversies, and had polemical preachers for pastors; in
these cases there would be relatively more of an amateurish
discussion of theological and philosophical issues. In certain
circumstances, some degree of fanaticism must be counted on.
The question arises as to the character of that level of
Christianity which was to be met in the market-place and the
side-streets, of which pagans made the actual acquaintance, and
which the catechumens confessed as their faith. For answer, we
must go to the preachers who held forth about it from the
pulpits of the basilicas; and we must also inquire into the
nature of the pastoral care which they exercised over the
masses: all this, if we are to be in a position to grasp their
objectives when they set about their task of training people to
be Christian.
John Chrysostom, who used to preach in the city church of
Antioch, is the earliest Greek bishop, a large number of whose
sermons have come down to us; he did not write learned
homilies complete with rhetorical phraseology, but, rather,
sermons genuinely preached to the people themselves. From
the first days after he entered on this office, in A.D. 386, a very
large number, if not a complete set, of his sermons, are extant,
written in shorthand. When we were listening, as it were, to
Cyril, it was in the quiet surroundings of the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, a city thronged by pilgrims; but
Chrysostom introduces us to the centre of the gossipy life of a
metropolis, and to a congregation who crowded a capacious
 CHRYSOSTOM III

church. N o w , the preacher was used to good attendances; but

one day, there were horse-races, and also there were empty
spaces in his rows of hearers. J o h n was annoyed, and decided
to reprove the absentees w h e n next they c a m e ; but he felt
inclined to lenience w h e n the d a y arrived, and so he merely
suggested to them that they should get w o r d from others about
w h a t he h a d said in their absence. 1
T h e hearers used to follow the speaker w i t h close attention.
In a city w h i c h h a d been torn b y quarrels over church and
politics, he was glad to say that, although m a n y a m o n g t h e m
had not yet agreed to the Nicene creed, they liked to hear
w h a t he h a d to say about it; in fact they had ended b y asking
him to preach on the problem of homoousios. H e promised to do
so, but refused to indulge in bitter polemics; rather, his tone
would be sympathetic, and his aim to w i n those w h o were
against it. These remarks gained the approval of the congrega-
tion, and the preacher then urged his hearers to adopt the
same principle in their daily lives. 2 T h e people present fre-
quently signified their agreement w i t h Chrysostom's pro-
nouncements; but w h e n it came to loud clapping, he reminded
them that the church was not a theatre, and that the dignity
of the sacred place must be duly observed. 3 N o r did he think
it right that they should listen to h i m as they would to an
opera-singer: for, after he h a d finished his sermon, o f f they
went home, instead of staying for the continuation of the
service, devoutly sharing in the main prayer offered b y the
church, and in the sacrifice of the Mass. H e then spoke impres-
sively about the significance and power of prayer in c o m m o n ,
and against the evasive excuse: " I can p r a y quite as well at
h o m e " . 4 T h a t settled it, and the people remained for that
occasion. But they talked during the sacred rite, and h a d to
be admonished the next d a y . 6 T h e preacher sought to m a k e
them take things earnestly, and he pointed to certain pitiable
objects possessed b y demons, persons w h o m a deacon h a d
brought in while the c h u r c h was at prayer, in order that the
1 Joh. Chrys. c. anom. horn. 7, 1 ( i , 5 o : b - d ) 8, 1 (1, 513c 514b)
2 c. Anom. 1, 6 - 7 (1, 450-52)
3 ibid. 4, 7 (1, 4 7 1 a ) de statuis, 2, 4 (2, 25a) horn. 17, 7 in M a t t h . (7, 232(d)
horn. 4, 6 in 1 C o r . (10, 33a) ham. 26, 8 in 1 C o r . ( i o , 239c)
4 ibid. 3, 6 (1, 469a) 6 ibid. 4, 4 - 5 ( 1 , 477)
112 5- POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

intercessions o f the p e o p l e m i g h t b e m o r e d e f i n i t e . H o w w a s it
possible to refrain f r o m tears w h e n f a c e d w i t h this l a m e n t a b l e
sight? Y o u c h a t t e r carelessly? A r e y o u not a f r a i d t h a t a d e m o n
m i g h t possibly l e a p o u t o f t h e m a n d get i n t o y o u r u n g u a r d e d
soul? Y e s , a n d d o it at t h e v e r y m o m e n t w h e n t h e c o n g r e g a t i o n
a r e l i f t i n g u p their hearts to j o i n w i t h t h e angels in h e a v e n in
s i n g i n g t h e chorus, " H o l y , h o l y , h o l y " ! 1
C h r y s o s t o m h a d no g r o u n d s for c o m p l a i n i n g t h a t his h e a r e r s
lost interest e v e n w h e n h e took w i n g a n d m o u n t e d t h e h e i g h t s
o f s p e c u l a t i v e t h e o l o g y . T h e city c o n g r e g a t i o n g r e w f a m i l i a r
w i t h these subjects, a n d i n f o r m e d as to matters u n d e r discus-
sion b y the c h u r c h . T e n sermons a r e e x t a n t , o r i g i n a l l y d e l i v e r e d
in A.D. 3 8 6 - 8 7 , a t t a c k i n g t h e o p p o n e n t s o f homoousios. T h e
sermons are a testimony to C h r y s o s t o m ' s m a r k e d a b i l i t y as a
t e a c h e r : he c o u l d take the p r o b l e m s at issue a n d r e d u c e t h e m
to their simplest terms, a v o i d i n g a b s t r a c t p e d a n t r y o f all
kinds. F o r instance, he w o u l d b e g i n w i t h the p r o p o s i t i o n t h a t
w e are entirely i g n o r a n t o f G o d ' s n a t u r e (ousia); a n d b e c a u s e
o f the finitude o f h u m a n n a t u r e , w e are q u i t e i n c a p a b l e o f
c o m p r e h e n d i n g it. I n d e e d , t h e v e r y angels c o u l d not u n d e r -
stand G o d ' s n a t u r e , nor w o u l d t h e y ever b e a b l e to d o so.
T h a t w a s w h a t the Bible t a u g h t , b u t at the s a m e t i m e it t a u g h t
q u i t e p l a i n l y that the o n l y b e g o t t e n S o n , w h o lies in the
F a t h e r ' s b o s o m , k n o w s H i m as H e i s — b e c a u s e H e is o f a
similar n a t u r e ; a n d the s a m e must b e said o f the H o l y Spirit.
C h r y s o s t o m based his a r g u m e n t on the B i b l e ; a n d h e took
t h e B i b l i c a l passages cited b y his o p p o n e n t s , e x p l a i n e d t h e m
in detail, a n d t u r n e d their e d g e . A l l w o r d s used b y Jesus, a n d
all t h a t w a s said a b o u t Jesus, w e r e matters to b e e x p l a i n e d
b y t h e special circumstances r e l e v a n t to e a c h o c c a s i o n ; e . g .
J e s u s ' p r a y e r at t h e t o m b o f L a z a r u s 2 d i d not p r o v e a position
o f s u b o r d i n a t i o n to, a n d d e p e n d e n c e on, t h e F a t h e r ; b u t t h a t
Jesus w a s c o n c e r n e d to use t h e occasion for g i v i n g p r o p e r
instruction to the b y s t a n d e r s . T h e c r u c i a l passages w e r e those
in w h i c h Jesus c o n d e m n s o r c o m m e n d s , forgives sins o r issues
c o m m a n d m e n t s , o n His o w n a u t h o r i t y a n d w i t h o u t addressing
petitions to t h e F a t h e r : His p u r p o s e was to r e v e a l his h e a v e n l y

1 c. Anom. 4, 5 (1, 477) cf. 3, 7 (i, 470c) cf. Vol. 3, 292

2 ibid. 9 (1, 525) 7 . 5 ( i . 507c)
 BIBLICAL TEACHING "3
origin to men. 1Sometimes, in expounding Scripture, Chrysos-
tom introduced quite artificial devices; but his sermons were
always so vivid, and, at times, so striking and dramatic, 2 that
it is easy to see how the congregation listened with rapt
attention.
No preacher, either before or after him, has excelled Chrysos-
tom in the degree to which he trained his hearers by systematic
Biblical exegesis. During the twelve years of his ministry at
Antioch, he preached several series of sermons, sermons in
which he expounded Genesis, a selection of the Psalms, the
gospels of Matthew and John, besides most of the Pauline
letters. And, let it be said, this instruction, given by a preacher
who was genuinely an exegete-born, must be taken into
account in attempting to assess the religion of the church in
Antioch; but this is a point to which we shall return.
Christians in Antioch were faced, on the one hand, with their
relation to paganism, but, on the other, they had curious con-
tacts with Judaism. Parallel phenomena have been recorded,
too, by other authorities, and in other places. In particular, it
was a usual practice to attend the synagogue, keep the Jewish
fasts, and even make gifts of oil on taking part in the festivals
celebrated in the synagogue. There were people in Spain who
persuaded the Rabbi to pronounce a blessing over their fields;
so, too, Africa seethed with the observance of Jewish customs
and festivals.8 And this sort of flirting with Judaism played a
dubious role in Antioch. Jewish doctors were called in, and
their ceremonial prescriptions, including even incubation in
the synagogue, were accepted and complied with. When very
important agreements were being made, people went to the
synagogue to swear their oaths; it was firmly believed that
oaths sworn in front of the coffer containing the Torah were
more potent. And it is indubitable that those who joined in the
Jewish fasts and festivals expected to gain advantages for
themselves. The New Year's celebrations were felt to be
particularly attractive, with their striking spectacle of blowing
the trumpets; and many guileless people may have attended
1c. Anom. 10, 3 (1, 532d) 2 e.g. c. Anom. 8, 4 - 6 (1, 5i8d 521a. d)
3Canon, apost. 64. 70. 71 Const, apost. 2, 61, 1 Cone. Laod. can. 37. 38
Cone. Elvira, can. 49, 50 Statuta eccl. Afric. 89 (Bruns, Canones Apost. et conc.
1» 149)
H
114 5* POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

out of idle curiosity. 1

In any case, contacts of this sort with
Judaism were not religious in essence, and not shaped by any
kind of special leaning towards the religion of the O l d Testa-
ment; rather they represented the overspill of the superstitious
idea that, in special cases of need, help could be gained with
greater certainty by going outside the familiar ways of their
own religion, and taking to the by-paths.
T h e adherents of Christianity who were looking for help of
a magical kind, divided themselves into two groups according
as they resorted to paganism or to Judaism; and pastors acted
not without reason when they called such renegades to account.
Chrysostom was one of them, and he decided, in autumn
A.D. 386, when the Jewish New Y e a r was about to begin, to
deal faithfully with this superstition, and to preach about it
publicly in church—an experiment which he repeated the
following year. It would seem, he said, that many people
thought there was something specially valuable about the
Jewish religion and its ceremonies; and even held the opinion
that the Jews worshipped the true God. Nothing could be
further from the truth; no Jew worshipped God, and the
synagogue was the home of the devil and his demons; services
held there were just cases of worshipping idols. D o you suggest
that it must be a sacred place because the books of the Mosaic
law and the prophets are kept there? But the sacred books are
also kept in the temple-library of the Serapeum at Alexandria;
Ptolemaeos Philadelphos had had a translation made for the
very purpose; but did that make the Serapeum a sacred place?
Not by any means: it is, and always will be, a place where
idol-worshippers assemDle. T h e same was true of the syna-
gogue. There was nothing in common between us Christians
and the Jews, for they did not obey the voice of the prophets,
and they had come to be at the beck and call of demons. T h e y
did not recognize a God of punishment; they made gods of
their bellies, and lived only for the joys of the present life.
W h a t they really appreciated was eating and drinking, and
fighting about dancing girls and jockeys till blood flowed.2
1 J o h . Chrys. c. Jud. hom. 1, 7 (1, 598b) 1,6(5956) 8 , 5 ( 6 8 1 0 ) and remarks
b y H . Usener, Weihnachtsfest, 2nd ed. 235; 1, 3 (591a. c) 1, 8 (599c); 2, 1
(601 b) 8, 5 - 6 (681c. 682e)
2 c. Jud. 1, 4 (592a)
 CHRISTIANITY AND THE EMERGENCY II5

Was that the sort of people that a Christian should accompany

to their synagogues, and expect to get help there? Y o u ought
to be ashamed of yourselves; they are just laughing at you, and
cracking jokes about you in private. 1 That is how Chrysostom
put Judaism in its place. A n y and every contact with that
religion was the subject of attack; it was plainly and simply
condemned; and no ground was left to stand on for raising
pleas about the Old Testament. In essence, it was the same
position as Christianity had taken up from the first. T h e cry,
"Crucify him, crucify him," shouted before Pilate's judgment
seat, separated the disciples in principle from the people of the
Talmud.
A great riot broke out in Antioch in January, A.D. 387
on account of the excessive burden of the taxes. All at once,
alarming disturbances in the streets lent support to the com-
plaints of the people with property; confused brawling took
place during which the bronze statues of the royal family
were demolished and trailed through the streets. In the end, a
detachment of soldiers had to be called in, and the disorder
was quelled. Dispatch-riders were sent at once to Constanti-
nople to report to the emperor direct, and measures to punish
the guilty were hastily taken in Antioch itself. T h e temper
then suddenly changed; it was recognized with grave concern
that the situation was of deadly seriousness, and it was feared
that the emperor, in his wrath, would inflict the sort of
vengeance which, three years later, in fact fell on the unhappy
Thessalonika. 2 A l l those who were able to do so, either went
away from the city, or lay hidden in the house; the streets and
squares were left empty. Bishop Flavian, although crippled by
age and illness, set out in spite of the wintry conditions, and
made his w a y to the court in an attempt to get there before
irremediable measures were decided on. He was passed on the
road by a commission of inquiry furnished with the fullest
authority. T h e commission ordered in the first instance the
closing of the theatres and the baths, stopped the distribution
of corn, and lowered the status of the city.
A t that crisis of affairs, Chrysostom stood up in the pulpit
and became the spiritual adviser of a distraught congregation.
1 c. Jud• 8, 8 ( 6 8 7 b ) 2 J o h . C h r y s . de statuis hom. 2, 3 (2, 23c)
Il6 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

He dealt in his sermons with the events as they took place day
by day, and his gospel message lifted their hopes, calmed
their fears, and converted both moods into holy experiences.
He declared that he had preserved silence for seven days, but
now he would raise his voice in sorrow and in prayer, to
inspire confidence: A Christian must show how he differed
from an unbeliever by the courage with which he bore what-
ever happened. 1 Only a short time ago, he had urged them to
put up a fight against those who talked too much. Would that
they had listened. Woe had now fallen on their city, but he
would now call them back to their right senses.2 T h e things
that were of real value were now becoming plain. Money by
itself was not to be depended on, although it was not an evil
as such; the important question had to do with the use to
which it was put. A truly wealthy man not only possessed
much, but also gave much away. 3 Christian virtues thrived on
what they did for the needy. T h e real point in life was not to
fill your homes with nice things, but to set up a tent in heaven,
a tent that could not be destroyed, nor left empty, and that
would not be lost even in death. God has given you money so
that you can help the needy and, by your generosity, obtain
forgiveness for your sins.*
The note which these sermons continually re-echoed was
that of exhortation to regard the present troubles as a penance
for one's own sins, and, by deepening one's own inner life in
this way, to win forgiveness from God. 6 Moreover, since it was
Lent, and a period of fasting before Easter, it was proper to
repent; the season required us to put all our senses under
discipline. We must work our passage through to an entirely
new way of life; and this by abstinence, not just in matters of
food, but in all the sins of the eye and the ear and the tongue
and the hands and the feet. That was the important thing,
and not merely to offer the prayers of the litany for two or
three days, as usually happened if there was an earthquake or
a famine: then for a short time, you would behave yourselves
properly and be subdued; but afterwards, you would go back
1 2
Joh. Chrys. de slatuis horn. 2, 3 (2, 23c) ibid. 2, 1 (20d)
:l 4
ibid. 2, 5 (27c) de stat. 2, 7 (30c!)
6
ibid. 3, 7 (47b) 4, 2 (soe) 5, 4 (65(d) 6, 1 (75a) 6, 4 (79b) 7, 1 (85a)
20, 1 (199b)
 CHRISTIANITY AND THE EMERGENCY 117

to your old habits. This time let it be different; cling to the

better ways. 1
Nor was Chrysostom content with general exhortations of
this kind: the hearers must begin their self-discipline at once
and, from now onwards, set themselves the aim of doing away
with three things, 2 viz. back-biting, personal enmities, and the
habit of cursing and swearing. Moreover, just as he had already
done in the case of the sermons attacking the Jews, when he
appealed to the people to teach each other, so in the present
instance: he requested his hearers to do their part in spreading
his advice; this would help the congregation to train and
discipline their own selves. Should it come about that the head
of a household heard either his wife, his children, or his slaves,
cursing and swearing in spite of being forbidden, he should
order them to bed without supper—but he must apply the
same discipline to himself and his friends: hunger and thirst
affect our senses and so impose restraint upon refractory
tongues. Chrysostom's remarks evoked audible agreement from
the church, and, after a few days, the preacher could count
on it that the points he had made would have a good effect. 3
Practical teachings of this kind were what Chrysostom
hammered home to his congregations, and his sermons enable
us to see how great was his sympathy for his hearers, and also,
how the latter would agree with him. Besides urging the people
in this way to follow a new mode of life, he dealt also very
suggestively with Biblical passages, -yvhich had nothing to do
with the problems of the moment, but which were chosen in
agreement with the church's custom. Thus, e.g. in Lent,
Genesis was appointed, 4 and accordingly, on the fifth day of
his series of sermons dealing with it, he began expounding the
story of creation; and this exposition, conjoined with Psalm
19(18) ran like a silken thread of Scripture through the
following addresses. He said that it would be a sign of little-
mindedness to want to be always harping on the difficulties
of the present, and for this reason he would now turn and give
his usual teaching-sermons: especially as all exposition of
Scripture gave comfort and consolation. 6 But alarming days,
1 de Stat. 3, 3-7 (39e. 460-e) 2 ibid. 3, 7 (47c!) 3 ibid. 5, 7 (70a. e) 9, 1 (97a)
4 vide Vol. 3, 31a 6 de stat. 7, 1 (83d)
Il8 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

full of anxiety, kept recurring, and people in their distress

sought refuge in the church; 1 and Chrysostom always knew
just what to say to stricken men and women. H e lifted up
their spirits and lent iron to their moral will; and then pagans
would look at them and praise the God of the Christians
because of the lives they lived. 2 T h a t was also w h y he was
quite offended when the mayor of Antioch appeared in the
church one fine day, and gave a reassuring speech. He had
meant well, but was it not a shameful thing that Christians,
who ought to be an example to pagans, should have to submit
to instruction by a pagan? 3 Chrysostom was familiar with the
weaknesses of his people, and therefore gave the desirable
didactic turn in exactly the right way when describing events,
especially, e.g., the court inquiry; and, later, the audience
which Bishop Flavian had of the emperor. He also took a
peculiar pleasure in telling of hermits and monks, who, on the
day when the court of inquiry was sitting, came down from
the mountains and from the caves in Sipylos, and begged the
royal commissioners to have mercy on the offenders. T h e y
only left the city again after having received a promise that
a letter they had composed would be placed in the emperor's
hands. Those were real Christian philosophers—but, in contrast,
what had been done by the cynics who used to preach in the
streets, and who, complete with their mantles and beards,
were the pagan philosophers? T h e y had all fled the city and
crept into caves outside it. 4
Meanwhile, both Bishop Flavian and Caesarius, the special
commissioner who had returned to make his report, did what
they could to incline the emperor to clemency. In the end,
they succeeded in obtaining a full amnesty for the people of
Antioch. Flavian returned in Holy Week bringing the news;
and he celebrated Easter in the midst of a happy congregation.
Chrysostom delivered the Easter sermon, and gave an account
of the bishop's journey. 6 Both men had stood up well to the
testing time of the dire distress of the church.
It is as well to add that the celebrated Libanius spoke about

1 de stat. 4, 1 (49a. b) 12, 1 (124c)

2 ibid. 9, 5 (104c) 3, 5 (42c) cf. 2 i , 1 (215c) 21, 3 (220b)
3 ibid. 16, 1 (i6od) * ibid. 17, 1 - 2 ( i 7 2 a - i 7 3 b ) 6 ibid. 21 (2i3ff.)
 PERFECTIONISM AND DAILY LIFE I IQ

the serious situation at Antioch. Five of his addresses on the

subject are extant, including one composed for delivery in the
presence of the emperor on behalf of the distressful city.
Actually, however, Libanius stayed at home, and these
addresses were only written after the danger was over—what
is more, he made use of Chrysostom's sermons in doing so!1
These sermons, just because of the pastoral concern they
exhibit in times of danger, make it plain how closely the
church was knit with the public life of the great city; and with
what seriousness a man of Chrysostom's type felt his responsi-
bilities for training his flock. Whatever the subject he may
have chosen for his sermon, he always made it issue in exhorta-
tions and suggestions for bringing ethics to bear on the daily
conduct of life. He displayed a noble earnestness in adopting
the ambition which characterized the early church, viz. that
Christians should be distinguished from pagans and Jews by
their mode of life; 2 and we have already examined the way in
which he took the faults and special failings of his hearers,
and pursued them into their last recesses. Similarly, whenever
he expounded Scripture, he brought it to a practical issue,
with the idea of giving Christian people guidance for everyday
living. It must be granted that he held the Eucharist and its
sacramental mystery to be miraculous in nature and, as such,
the source of the life which the church lived; but this was a
subject that he spoke of very seldom and with much restraint, 3
but not because he hesitated to speak in the presence of persons
other than those who were full members of the church. It
appealed more to him to issue a direct challenge to the will of
Christian people, and to strengthen the doubters and the
hesitating. " D o not lose heart if you fail twice or thrice, or
even as much as twenty times; take your courage in both hands
anew, and begin again unwearied". 4 O n the other hand, when
addressing candidates for baptism, he would utter impressive

1 L i b a n i u s , or. 19-23, and notes by R . G o e b e l , de Joannis Chrjys. et Libanii

orationibus quae sunt de seditione Antioc/iensiurn, G o t t i n g e r D i s s . 1910
2 de stat. 3, 5, (2, 42c) g, 5 (104c) iG, 1 (i6od. 162a) 21, 1. 3 (215c. 220b)
hom. 1 5 , 8 in Matt. (7, 198c) hom. 1 7 , 7 in Matt. (232b) horn. 2 1 , 4 in Matt.
(274a;
3 ibid. 2, 9 (2, 3 4 b ) c. Anom. G, 4 (1, 499c) de bapt. Christi 4 (2, 3 7 3 d . e)
de prod. Judae hom. i, 6 (2, 384)
4 hom. 17, 7 (7, 232c)
120 5. POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

warnings against the danger of backsliding into sin, and

therefore insist that they should test and prove their own firm-
ness of character; 1 yet, on the other hand, when preaching in
the course of public worship, he always spoke in glowing terms
of God's mercy on all sinners, and of the purifying efficacy of
repentance. Those who did really desire to lead better lives
would find that G o d would respond and help them. 2 Those
who had pure motives, who accepted the troubles and cares of
life, and who bore them without murmuring; or those w h o
imposed sacrifices on themselves if only to the extent of fasting
and almsgiving—which the annual Easter fast might call f o r —
all such people would throw off their sins by repentance of
this kind; always granted that the first requirement was met,
and they lived better lives. For 3 this purpose, it would be
fitting to exercise self-denial for the sake of converting one's
neighbour, and this would be accepted by God as a penitential
act. 4 It is relevant to note in this connection, that Chrysostom,
in the course of the duties of his pastoral office, saw many
who needed advice, and heard their confessions in private;
the unrepentant being punished, indeed, with exclusion from
the sacraments. 8
When Chrysostom preached a series of expositions of the
Sermon on the Mount, he made it as plain as possible what he
understood Christian morality to be. It was Christ's l a w —
"in order that you may be like your Father in heaven"; the
change that he made in the wording of Matt. 5: 45 is significant.
T h e "peak of philosophy" was to be attained by ascending a
ladder. It began with prohibiting wrong-doing; and then the
increasing demands of the Sermon on the Mount were cleverly
fitted in to a nine-fold scheme, in such a way that the seventh
grade (loving one's enemy), the eighth (doing good to him),
and then the ninth (praying to God for him), would reach the
goal.
T h e exhortations of Jesus Himself are constantly interwoven

1 ad ilium, catech. 2, 2 (2, 237c!)

2 hom. i g , 5 in Matt. (7, 252b ff.) 22, 5 in Matt. (7, 281a. b)
3 de stat. 4, 1. 2 (2, 50c. e) 5, 4 (65a. 66a) | 6, i (74c!. 75a) 6, 3 (77a. b )
6, 4 (79b) 7, 1 (85a); fasts 3, 3ff. (3gfT.) 20, 1 (199)
4 c. Jud. 8, 4 (1, 6, 79a)
5 de stat. 20, g (2, 213c) hom. 17, 7 in M a t t . (7, 232c) cf. Cyril, catech. 1, 5
 CHRISTIANITY IN DAILY LIFE 121

with references to various rewards which God gives to willing

disciples, a feature which reveals the skill of his teaching, and
which Chrysostom was obviously striving to imitate. He said
that, taken on the whole, Jesus "did not really make exagger-
ated demands, but only a little more than that customary
thing which was enough to satisfy pagans". 1 But Chrysostom
went too far when he said that no one should regard these
commandments as impossible, because, as a matter of fact,
many Christians were already living the apostolic life that
was required: he had in mind the monks who, by their
continence, exemplified on earth what it was to live like the
angels. The essence of Christian perfection was exhibited by
their asceticism and their total repudiation of earthly cares. 2
But Chrysostom would not make demands on his hearers to
this extent; he would be content if they merely learned to
avoid dishonesty and to give to charity. That would represent
a step forward, from which rapid progress to greater heights
would be possible.3 He kept insisting that this way was not
difficult; nay, it was easy: for human nature was fitted for the
moral life. Moreover, the grace of God, which is ultimately
the source of all, comes to our aid when we pray, and assists
our good intentions. But it remained true that we were
responsible in the first instance for our own salvation or
condemnation. 4
The primary objective which Chrysostom tried to set before
his church had three main aspects: i. moral conduct took first
place, in the sense of ordinary law-abiding citizenship; ii. a
forgiving spirit; iii. an increased willingness to exercise self-
denial for the sake of the common good. He demanded that,
in these respects, they should go beyond pagans and Jews in
all circumstances and in every case. With that as a starting
point, they might gradually rise to the spiritual kind of life
characteristic of a full and rounded Christianity. A "life like
that of angels" was the ultimate goal, a fact which led him
to become celebrated for his praise of the martyrs, who, by
1 hom. 18, 4 - 6 in Matt. (7, 238d. e 242b. d)
2 ibid. 21, 4 in Matt. (7, 273) angels: hom. 18, 6 (244a) hom. 19, 5 (25id)
hom. 26, 7 (321a) cf. hom. 10, 4 (144b)
3 ibid. 2 1 , 4 (273c)
4 ibid. 22, 5 (281b. c) hom. 23, 3 (288e-28ga) 23, 5 (2giab) 21, 3 (273a)
122 5- POPULAR CHRISTIANITY

dying heroically, had attained the status of angels, and had

given Christians the noblest examples of supreme virtue. 1 He
exercised his gifts by dwelling in all sorts of ways on their model
character in this respect, and delivered numerous memorial
addresses on their feast days. The religious esteem in which
the martyrs were held was characteristic of all the early
church, but in this respect, the tributes paid by Chrysostom
went far beyond what was then customary.
For a long time, it had been a pious custom to honour the
graves of martyrs with artistic adornments, and emperors
entered into rivalry with each other in building martyrs'
churches and chapels. The people used to visit these places
frequently, and pay to the heroes of the church the kind of
respect which, in pagan times, they had been accustomed to
pay to the heroes of Greek mythology. Chrysostom gave high
praise to the custom, and attributed quite a special efficacy
to the tombs and their precious relics. He said that God had
taken the souls of the martyrs to Himself, but left their bodies
with us on earth; the sight of them would awaken in us a
motive for striving towards the highest philosophy. 2 "I myself",
he averred, "might threaten you, flatter, frighten, or urge you
without effect. But when you enter a martyr's chapel, and just
look at the sainted man's grave, your eyes stream with tears,
and your heart warms with fervent prayer. Why is this? Because
you envisage the figure of the martyr, and that evokes the
thought of his achievement. Face to face with his grandeur,
you become conscious of your beggarly poverty; you realize
how great is the gulf between your own self and his: the
martyrs are in a position to speak freely in God's presence, and
to rejoice in His honour and glory." 3
But there was more to be said. Just as a brave warrior was
buried with his weapons, so also the bodies of the martyrs
had their weapons at hand. These consisted of the power of
Christ which resided in their wounds. These powers always
continued to scare demons away, as you could prove each
time you brought a possessed man to visit one of their tombs. 4
1 J o h . C h r y s . in s. Julianum 4 (2, 676c!)
2 in s. Julianum 4 (2, 6y6f.) in s. Barlaam 4 (2, 685c) 3 de ss. martjribus 2 (2, 653)
4 in s. Barlaam 4 (2, 686b) in s. Julianum 2 (2, 674c!) de s. Droside 2 (2, 6 9 i d )
de stat. 8, 2 (2, 93b)
 THE MARTYRS 123

It was therefore good and commendable to visit their tombs

often. It brought down blessings, for the rmartyrs were very
worthy in God's eyes. They were His friemds, and had free
access to Him at all times. Just as veteran soldiiers might address
the emperor boldly, when they showed him the wounds they
had received in his service, so the martyrs (could carry their
decapitated heads in their hands, enter Gold's presence, and
then ask for whatever they liked. We ought toj try and gain the
help of these powerful intercessors, so that;, by their inter-
mediation, we might draw God's mercy to our own selves. 1
1c. Jud. 6 (1, 683b) in Juventinum et Maximinum 3 (2, 583c) de s. Beronice et
Prosdoce 7 (2, 645c!) Sources in E. Lucius, Anfänge des Hieiligenkults, 1904, 125fr.
H . Delehaye, Les origines du culte des martyrs, 2nd ed. (19313), iooff.
 Chapter Six

MONASTICISM

(i) T h e Preparatory Stages

J OHN THE BAPTIST W A S A N ASCETIC. HE LIVED IN

wore a tunic woven of camel hair and a belt m a d e of

SOLITUDE,

leather; his food was grasshoppers and the honey of wild-bees;

his disciples undertook frequent fasts. A n ancient tradition 1
describes the contrast offered by Jesus, who had no rules
about food and drink, and imposed none on His disciples.
While accustomed to seek the solitude of the mountains when
He wished to pray, He did His work in the towns at the lakeside,
and in the presence of large numbers of the public. H e often
had meals in the company of tax-collectors and sinners, but
this did not lead Him to refuse invitations from well-to-do
Pharisees. 2
T h e contrast is striking, but it reveals merely a difference in
way of life, not in essential attitude. Jesus shared the view that
to enter the fellowship of the K i n g d o m of God, it was a
necessary pre-supposition to disrupt all the bonds that bound
men to the material world, including their own homes and
their own parents. If the present world should offer hindrances
and oppose God's call, then our seductive love for it must be
met with an exalted hatred. 3 Possessions of a material kind
lead our hearts away from G o d : " Y o u cannot serve God and
M a m m o n . " It would be easier for a camel to go through the
eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the K i n g d o m of
God. T h e rich young man was therefore told to go and sell
his property in order that he might be unencumbered, and so
follow the Master who had nowhere to lay His head. T h e
church gratefully remembered the names of certain women
who had placed their means at the disposal of the Lord and
His disciples. 4 Not one of this band showed concern for the
morrow; each was content to ask God for his daily bread.
1 Matt, u : 18. i 9 = L u k e 7: 33. 34 cf. Mark 2: 18
2 Luke 7: 35 cf. Luke 14: 7. 12 3 ibid. 14: 26 cf. Vol. I, 33f. * ibid. 8: 3. 3
 ASCETIC ELEMENTS IN JESUS AND PAUL 125

Jesus regarded marriage as a divine institution, and therefore

as a holy and unbreakable bond; but He denied it to Himself;
the labour demanded by the Kingdom of God left no leisure
for the happiness of family life. A tradition of doubtful authen-
ticity ascribes to Jesus a saying 1 regarding those who had
emasculated themselves for the sake of the Kingdom of G o d —
" H e who is able to receive this, let him receive it". Those
who were ready to serve God unconditionally, would repudiate
all the joys of earth untouched, and render obedience unto
death, even on the cross. This attitude bore but an outward
resemblance to asceticism, and was in fact only an unavoidable
subsidiary phenomenon in a life entirely devoted to the goal
set by God.
Christians of the earliest generations preserved similar
feelings. Paul contrasted his own active, self-denying, itinerant,
and solitary life with that of the "other apostles", including
the Lord's brother and also Cephas whose wife shared his
journeys. 2 Marriage was good and not sinful, but it distracted
one's attention from perfect devotion to the Lord, and entangled
one in the cares of the present world. T o this extent the
apostle's requirements kept to the principles laid down by
Jesus. However, when Paul referred 3 to the approaching times
of stress, "immediately impending"—a catastrophe in which
"the present shape of things would disappear"—the exhorta-
tion to refrain from marriage may be regarded as a further
application of the Lord's teaching.
O n the other hand, it was in an entirely different note when
he said, "It is good for a man not to touch a woman", 4 and
declared that marriage was only a concession to human frailty
for the sake of obviating something worse. Such a contention
is based on the idea, associated with nature-religion, that
sexual intercourse is a defilement in God's sight. 6 It also linked
up with a primitive, lowly estimate of the status of woman,
making her simply the object of physical desire; and so it is a
foreign element in the system of Christian thought. Seen
from this standpoint, to refrain from marriage was no longer

1 Matt. 19: 12 and remarks by K . Heussi, Ursprung d. Mönchtums (1936), 27

2 1 Cor. 9 : 5 3 ibid. 7: 26, 29, 31 4 ibid. 7: 1 - 2
6 cf. also 1 Cor. 7: 5
126 6. MONASTICISM

incidental to an overriding purpose, but something to be held

in esteem for its own sake. A further consequence was the fact,
which is in itself incontestable, viz. that only a few are capable
of making this heroic decision; and this, in turn, demanded
and received respect. Thus it came about that whereas custom,
law, and the words of Jesus Himself, sanctioned marriage by
calling it "good", the word "better" was used to praise those
who voluntarily denied themselves marriage. 1 Two degrees of
morality were thus created, of which the first was regarded as
normal and the second as superior.
The doctrines which Paul had taught the church at Corinth
continued to play an active part in the thought of the churches.
They distinguished between the usual run of Christians, on
the one hand, who were concerned to do their best in keeping
the divine commandments; and, on the other, the "perfect",
who dispensed with marriage and possessions, and ill-used
their bodies. 2 The earliest documentary evidence is to be
found in the change made in the record when Matthew
borrowed Mark's account of the rich young man. 3 According
to Mark, Jesus simply requested the young man to sell all his
property; but Matthew added the prefatory clause, " I f thou wilt
be perfect"! The Roman church is fully justified in main-
taining that this was not a commandment; it was an admonition
for those who strove for a higher morality; the early Christians
were of exactly the same view. Their thought, and, in the case
of those who had sufficient strength of character, their conduct,
were based on three principles, viz. a low estimate of personal
property, of woman, and of the human body. From the
standpoint of the Master, these had been nothing more than
three forms of self-denial imposed by the necessity of fulfilling
His mission; but they were now regarded as ideals with a
philosophical basis, and as part of an ethic which consisted
of striving to exceed the degree usually required. This change,
however, transformed their essential character, and led them
to find their inspiration in non-Christian sources.
From the time of Diogenes, and therefore now for several
generations, Cynic philosophers had been preaching that the
1 I C o r . 7: 1, 7, 8, 28, 38, 40 cf. also R e v . 14: 4
2 ibid. 9: 27 3 M a t t . 19: 21 compare with M a r k 10: 21
 PROPERTY AND MARRIAGE 127

freedom and independence of the sage presupposed his repudi-

ation of earthly possessions; and there had been thousands of
instances of men who had put this doctrine into practice.
Among the familiar sights during the first century of the
Roman empire were the Cynics wearing rough cloaks, carrying
begging bags and thorn-sticks. They used to wander from
town to town preaching to the people, and hammering in their
platitudes. When the apostles went preaching the gospel, they
travelled about in a similarly unencumbered manner. 1 M e n
at large, and shortly also the churches themselves, regarded
these missionaries as exercising the same kind of calling and as
possessing the same variety of spiritual qualifications as were
to be obtained from the schools of philosophy. Thus it came
about that people living at that time combined the Christian
idea of denying the world for the sake of the kingdom of G o d ,
with the Cynic idea of despising the world for the sake of
personal freedom.
T h e low esteem in which woman was held owed its origin
to oriental modes of thought, and has been preserved among
the Jews; what Paul had to say about their subordinate posi-
tion in the services of worship of the church 2 breathes with the
spirit of the synagogue. T h e view that sexual intercourse
makes a person unfit to take part in public worship is to be
found in all nature-religions; in many of them, it has issued in
numerous regulations for sexual restraint on the part of persons
offering prayers or making sacrifices, as well as prescriptions
for the continence of priests of both sexes. 3 Rules of this kind
are in force in Judaism. Further, the belief that a girl was the
bride of a god, was in many cases extended to a lifelong
prohibition of any earthly love; and this, in turn, gave rise to
rules for the continence of priestesses and women dedicated to
the godhead when their services to public worship were affected.
Both these lines of thought led to the view that sexual contin-
ence brought men closer to the godhead and could compel the

1 M a r k 6: 7 - 1 1 M a t t . 10: 5 - 1 6 Didache 1 1 : 3 - 6 12:1-5

2 1 Cor. 11: 3-10 14: 3 4 - 3 5 and the Jewish records in Billerbeck, V o l .
I l l , ad lee. cf. also S t r a t h m a n n (compare the f o l l o w i n g footnote) 1,
18-21
3 Details iin H . S t r a t h m a n n , Geschichte d. fruchristlichen Askese 1 ( 1 9 1 4 ) E.
Fehrle, Die kultische Keuschheil im Allertum, 1910
128 6. MONASTICISM

god to make revelations. In ancient times, therefore, prescrip-

tions for the continence of men and women were a common-
place; sometimes, religious duty imposed denial for life. 1
Philosophers adopted ideas of this kind and gave them a
mental content, either in sympathy with the Cynic • sage's
freedom from the bonds of the world and with the ethical
necessity for mastering the passions and needs of the body;
or, on the other hand, in continuation of the Orphic and
Pythagorean ideal of purity as seen in the praise accorded to,
if not in the requirement of, sexual continence. 2 Among the
Jewish sects of the Essenes and the Therapeutae, intercourse
with women was forbidden; and Philo supplied a theory for
this mode of life, a theory which he based on the antithesis
of soul and body as seen of old in Plato and, more recently,
among the neo-Pythagoreans. s
A type of asceticism had developed as early as the first
Orphics, and was seen in their negative attitude to life and
their doctrine of a pitiless "wheel of re-births". Ascetics of
this type regarded the body as the enemy of the soul, and
refused to nourish it by eating any flesh, except that used as
food during the rites of worshipping the dead. 4 Considerations
of a philosophical character lent support to their abstention,
which soon came to be widely adopted. The early Christians
were among those who formed such circles within the churches,
and held reasons of a religious character for regarding only
vegetable foods as permissible.® In this way, a course of
development took place without raising any suspicion as to
what was happening: it began with the unencumbered manner
of life adopted by the early Christian apostles, and issued in
accepting asceticism as a principle. This principle then linked
up with the surrounding pagan world, and established an
agreement which had still further effects. Account must also
be taken of the additional fact that, at an early date, the
church adopted the Jewish custom of fasting twice each week,
and came to regard it as an obligatory practice; and there
1
vide Fehrle op. cit. 162 Hopfner in Pauly-Wissowa, Supplement 7, 50-64
2
vide Diog. Laert. 8, 19 re Pythagoras Philostratus, Vita Apollonii, 1 , 1 3
Alexander Polyhistor in Clem. Alex. Strom. 3, 60, 4
3 4
vide Vol. I, 34. 94/. 135c. E. Rohde, Psyche, 2, I25f.
6
Rom. 14 cf. Handb. ad 14: 1
 ASCETICS AND PNEUMATICS 129
were numerous occasions when the practice was still further
extended. 1 Considerations of this kind make it perfectly clear
that, from the very beginning of the Christian movement,
there were ample possibilities for the growth of ascetic practices
in regard to food.
The further Christianity spread in countries with a Greek
culture, the more vigorous were the churches in developing
tendencies to go beyond the customary exercises of fasting and
the usual practice of continence. A principle of general
application was laid down in the Didache, 6: 2, " I f you are
able to carry the entire yoke of the Lord, you will attain
perfection; but if you are unable, then do as much as you c a n " .
The same sentiment is expressed in other words in the epistle
of Barnabas, 1 9 : 8 , " L e t your neighbour share in all that you
possess, and refuse to call anything your own. 2 And, as far as
yon can, you must live continently for the sake of your soul".
In fact, even by the early date of Paul's church in Corinth,
there were "spiritual marriages" between ascetics of the two
sexes. 3 Such persons were regarded for centuries by the official
church with mistrust, 4 but the habit continued ineradicably
as part of the practice of perfection. Those who became
ascetics voluntarily were naturally held in high esteem, and
it is significant that even Ignatius, early as was his date, had
to warn them against spiritual pride. They claimed, indeed,
that their self-control gave them insights, which were in the
nature of divine revelations, and were superior to the authority
of the bishop. In other words, these ascetics made pretensions
to be persons spiritually endowed (pneumatics), and they felt
themselves superior to the clergy. Other aspects of church-life
at this early time called forth similar admonitions to humility,
and such aspects multiplied rapidly. 5
T h e Montanist movement was very revealing of the connec-
tion between ascetics, on the one hand, and the pneumatic
prophets, on the other. Again, among the Marcionites, the
world was repudiated on the basis of a dualistic philosophy,
1 vide Vol. I, 65c.; Vol. 2, igytT. Vol. 3, 310«". 2 So also Did. 4: 7
3
vide V o l . 1, 136
4
Ps.-Clem. de virginitate,ep. 2, in Wetstcin's Ed. of N.T. 1751, Vol. II,
Appendix, p. i5ff. Aphrahat, hom. 6, 4, p. 260 hom. 6, 7, p. 271
6
Ign. ad Polyc. 5: 2 I Clem. 38, 2 Tcrt. virg. l ei. 13
I
I30 6. MONASTICISM

and this dualism made asceticism a binding duty for every

member of the church. 1 Dualism was at the root of the
asceticism of gnostic sects; records prove this in the case of
Satornilus, 2 and it can be traced among the Valentinians. 3
Naturally, in all these different groups, asceticism was the
hall-mark of perfect Christians, the pneumatics, and these were
held up as models challenging the weakness of common-
place, married Christians, the "psychics".
The crucial test was always that of sexual continence. It
was a widespread opinion in the church that a Christian
"really" ought to practise it, and that marriage was only
tolerated on account of the frailty of the flesh.4 Further, it was
held that one had to reckon with the fact that half-measures
of this kind only served to delay the yearningly awaited parousia
of the Lord. The only thing that could create the ideal condi-
tions in harmony with the Kingdom of God as desired by the
Lord, and bring about that Kingdom on earth, 5 was the
complete elimination of the sex element among the members
of the church. The apocryphal Acts of the Apostles written in the
east make it appear, rather surprisingly, that the authors
regarded celibacy as the principal requirement demanded by
Christianity. 6 This idea was put into practice and observed
for a long time in the churches of Mesopotamia. Even about
the middle of the fourth century in that region, when a
Christian was baptized, he " r e a l l y " undertook the obligation
of celibacy. This meant that baptized persons, as Christians in
the full meaning of the term, constituted a church of "saints"
in the sense of ascetics.7
The church catholic repudiated all radical views of this
kind from an early date. 8 Although, according to these views,
1 2
vide Vol. 2, 197 Vol. I, 260 Iren. 1, 24, 2 (1, 198 Harvey)
3
ibid. 1, 6, 3. 4 (1, 56f. Harvey)
4
Thus Pinytos of Knossos in Euseb. H.E. 4, 23, 7.
6
Gosp. acc. to the Egypt, fr. 2, Klostermann (Kl. Texte 8); M. R . J a m e s
Apocryph. JV.T., p. ioff. 2 Clem. 12, 2 - 5 cf. Mark 12: 2 5 = M a t t . 22: 3 0 =
Luke 20: 35
• vide Vol. 2, 86ff.
7
K a r l Miiller, Ehtlosigkeit aller Cetauften in dcr alien Kirche, 1927 Aphrahat,
hom. 7, 18. 20 (p. 3 4 1 . 345 Parisot)
8
1 Tim. 4: if. Didache, 1 1 : 1 1 re resurrection, cf. Acta Pauli et Theclae 12
(1, 244 Lipsius)=.4ita Pauli, ed. C . Schmidt, 2nd ed. (1905), p. 3 4 = M . R .
James, op. cit. 12, p. 275 cf. Luke 20: 35
 ASCETICS AND GNOSTICS

celibacv was a presupposition of eternal salvation, and some-

times even of the resurrection, yet, taken on the whole, the
church catholic gained the victory, though without being
able to prevent hostile opinions like this from breaking into
flame at frequent intervals. T h e church was accustomed to
receive into her fellowship ascetics of a moderate type; they
were regarded with respect as model Christians, and great
pride was taken in their outstanding ethical achievements. 1
A t the other end of the scale, a second marriage, after the
death of the first partner, was usually felt by Christians to
be of a dubious character, in spite of the fact that it was not
actually forbidden.
T h e theologians of Alexandria thought out a complete
theory regarding the relation between ascetics and other
Christians, and their theory issued in very remarkable conse-
quences. Clement vanquished the hostile, "heretical" gnosis
by constructing a system of Christian gnosis. According to his
system, truth was reached in a series of steps, the first being
taken when the simple believer was held to have received the
gift of the spirit; whereas the perfect gnostic was marked by
the entire wealth of communion with God, and even became
a means of conveying the divine love to the church. 2 Clement
did not regard the ascetic mode of life as enjoined by divine
commandment, but, in the individual persons who practised it,
only as a testimony to the fact that they had broken with the
world. It was only after this stage had been reached that
Origen worked out a far-reaching system, in which asceticism
appears as an element necessary for completing his doctrine
about the soul mounting upwards to the comprehension of the
logos. He himself, by example and preaching, sought to make
converts to the practice of asceticism. 3 He described ascetics
as the true philosophers of Christendom, and even gave them
the title of "the philosophers". Educated writers on the new
faith called theoretic asceticism, "philosophy", a name which
it deserved on account of its principal source—and throughout

1 Justin, apol. 15, 6 29, 1 Tatian, or. 32, 2 Atlienagoras, suppl. 33, I Galen
(c. A.D. 165) in Koch, Quellen, p. 63f.
2 vide V o l . 2, 2gifT.
3 vide V o l . 2, 315c. Euseb. H.E. 6, 3, 9 - 1 3 Eusebius was an apt pupil of
Origen's; cf. Vol. 3, i66f.
132 6. MONASTICISM

all the centuries since t h a t t i m e , t h e unlettered h a v e f o l l o w e d

t h e e x a m p l e of t h e e d u c a t e d in a d o p t i n g t h e c u s t o m o f c a l l i n g
the monks " p h i l o s o p h e r s " .
T h e question o f the b e g i n n i n g o f m o n a s t i c i s m o n l y arises
w h e n ascetics, either as single i n d i v i d u a l s or in g r o u p s , s e p a r a t e
themselves f r o m t h e c h u r c h e s w h o s e m e m b e r s t a k e a n o r m a l
share in the life o f the w o r l d r o u n d a b o u t ; their " a p o t a x i s " ,
or r e p u d i a t i o n o f t h e w o r l d , t h e n b e c o m e s a m a t t e r o f geo-
g r a p h y , a n d c a n b e seen o b j e c t i v e l y . T h e r e w e r e h a r d l y a n y
e x a m p l e s o f this sort o f t h i n g either before t h e a d v e n t of
C h r i s t i a n i t y or a f t e r w a r d s outside its borders.
A d m i t t e d l y , records h a v e s u r v i v e d , d a t i n g f r o m t h e second
c e n t u r y B.C., w h i c h tell o f ascetics w h o i m m u r e d themselves
in the t e m p l e o f Serapis a t M e m p h i s , a n d w h o lived w h o l l y
a p a r t f r o m the w o r l d : t h e y w e r e k n o w n as the katochoi,l T h e
c u s t o m was p e r p e t u a t e d for centuries, a n d records testify
that, even as late as c. A.D. 400, it was to be f o u n d in the
S e r a p e u m at A l e x a n d r i a . 2 T h e s e facts call to m i n d also the
l e g e n d a r y figure o f the prophetess, A n n a , 3 w h o " d i d not d e p a r t
f r o m the t e m p l e , w o r s h i p p i n g w i t h fasting and p r a y e r n i g h t
a n d d a y " . Cases o f this k i n d , h o w e v e r , are c h a r a c t e r i z e d , not
so m u c h b y the f a c t of s e p a r a t i n g f r o m the w o r l d , as b y that
o f living close to G o d .
Josephus, d e s c r i b i n g his t e a c h e r , B a n ( n ) u s , 4 sketched a
g e n u i n e f o r e - r u n n e r o f t h e anchorites. B a n n u s lived in the
desert, w o r e g a r m e n t s o f p a l m - h e m p , ate w i l d fruits, and kept
himself clean b y b a t h i n g in cold w a t e r m o r n i n g a n d n i g h t .
J o s e p h u s lived w i t h h i m for three years. A similar case is
t h a t of J o h n the Baptist, w h o is to be r e c k o n e d a m o n g this
class of J e w i s h anchorites, a genus of w h i c h , unfortunately, n o
o t h e r records h a v e s u r v i v e d . T h e notices r e g a r d i n g the J e w i s h
Essenes are so l a c k i n g i n p e r s p i c u i t y 6 that it is q u i t e uncertain
w h e t h e r their t y p e o f l i f e - i n - c o m m o n also necessarily a n d
r e g u l a r l y led to their l i v i n g together in cloisters; moreover,
there are n o records at all to the effect t h a t they actually c u t
themselves o f f f r o m the rest o f the w o r l d . I f such records h a d
1 R e i t z e n s t e i n , Hellen. Mysterienreligionen, 3 r d e d . , 200—15
2 R u f i n . hist. eccl. 1 1 , 23 3 L u k e 2: 37
4 J o s . vita, 1 1 , 12 ( p a r . 2, W h i s t o n ' s e d i t i o n ) cf. V o l . I , 40
6 cf. V o l . I, 34ff., b u t p r e s e n t o p i n i o n is less assured o f the d a t a .
 A N T O N Y >33
survived, the settlements near Engeddi, on the west shore of
the Dead Sea, of whose existence excellent testimony has come
down, 1 would have to be regarded as partaking of that character.
O n the other hand, the sect of the Therapeutae, which
Philo held in high esteem, had a settlement on Lake Mareotis
in Egypt. 2 There can be little doubt, in this instance, that there
was a definite intention to flee from the world. Even so, it
would be a dubious and rash undertaking to use these poor
instances for the foundations on which to build a theory as
to the origin of Christian monasticism. It would be better, in
view of the facts which can be actually envisaged, to propose
another problem: whether the processes of development within
the Christian movement itself did not compel the ascetics to
separate themselves from the fellowship of the church catholic.

(2) Anchoritism and Monasticism

It was among the fellahin of Egypt, who were untouched
by Greek ideas, that there were the first examples of Christian
anchorites, i.e. ascetics who went to live in a place apart.
T o w a r d the end of the third century, it had become a custom
in that country when an ascetic repudiated the world, that he
should also abandon his native village and build a hermitage
at some little distance from it. After a time, an old hermit
would be joined by novices, who settled in his neighbourhood
and learned the art of self-denial. 3 Unorganized settlements of
this type were greatly influenced during the first quarter of
the fourth century by two men who gave the movement its
main character, and carried it further in two different ways:
A n t o n y was responsible for initiating the desert type of holy
men; Pachomius organized the monastics.
T h e feature that was characteristic of Antony's type was
that he went quite away from human dwellings. In his first
period, he followed the customs and directions of an older
man, and was content with merely increasing greatly his
ascetic practices. Next, he betook himself to a cemetery lying
remote from the village, and shut himself up in a tomb; an
acquaintance brought him food at intervals. He was attacked
1 P l i n y , nat. hist. 5, 17 2 P h i l o , vita contempt. 22 (6, 5 a ) 3 A t h a n . vita Ant. 3
134 6. MONASTICXSM

there by demons, but managed to withstand them successfully;

in this w a y he had tested his powers. He then took the final
step, but one in which his old teacher refused to j o i n : he
wandered "across the river" into the boundless desert, and
climbed into the mountains. He found there an abandoned
fort which he converted into a dwelling. A stream supplied
him with water, and for food he had some T h e b a n biscuit
which he had brought, and of which he received further
supplies from his friends perhaps after six months. 1 H e lived
in this wild place for twenty ¿years constantly battling with
demons. No one caught actual sight of him throughout this
period, although his friends sought out his habitation from
time to time, and shouted to attract his attention.
Finally, when fifty-five years of age, he presented himself
to pilgrims as a master and teacher of asceticism, and made
converts to his w a y of repudiating the world. T h e desert
became populated with monks, and numerous settlements
were founded, all of which looked up to him as their father. 2
Maximin's persecution took place during this period of his
activity, and he and his monks were carried off to Alexandria; 3
but the city prefect ordered the undesirable men of the desert
out of the city. After Bishop Peter had been martyred on
November 24, A.D. 3 1 1 , Antony returned to the desert and
resumed his solitary life, but he did not find the quietude
which had formerly been his happy lot there. Visitors multi-
plied, and they disturbed him ever more seriously; the claim
made by his miraculous powers drew innumerable needy
persons, whom he could not deny. He then began to be afraid
of fame and self-pride, and therefore decided to wander off
into the upper T h e b a i d ; but a voice from heaven commanded
him to seek another goal. H e joined a caravan of Bedouin
travelling "into the interior desert" and, after a journey of
three days, came to a very high mountain group, where he
found a level place with palm-trees and water. Here he re-
mained in complete isolation, and soon made himself inde-
pendent even of the dry biscuits sent by the brethren. By this
means, he found at last the consummation of all that he had
striven for; and it was here also that, in A.D. 356, he died in
1 vita Ant. 8 - 1 2 2 ibid. 14. 15 3 ibid. 46
 LIFE OF ANTONY 135
extreme old age, apparently 105 years. 1
T h e place remains
till the present time a grateful monument of monasticism, and
is marked by a cloister of the greatest antiquity. From Biad,
a village on the Nile, or from Baiad-el-Nassara, near Beni-Suef,
a journey eastwards of about 36 hours by camel (i.e. three
days as cited above) is needed to reach the monastery of
Antony in the mountains of Wadi-Araba, about 25 miles
from the R e d Sea. 2
O u r information about Antony is drawn from Athanasius's
biography of the holy man. This work is markedly conven-
tional in character, so strongly conventionalized indeed, that
the summary given in the foregoing paragraphs may possibly
not be strictly in accordance with the historical facts regarding
the various stages in the process by which geographical
separateness was established. Nevertheless the work written
by Athanasius is of the greatest historical value, because it
gives a clear picture of the extreme type of asceticism, and
therefore of the goal sought by the movement. A t the same
time, it must be granted that Athanasius lifted it as it were to a
higher plane, and transfigured it to a finer degree of spirituality.
Athanasius was only reflecting popular opinion when he
held certain factors to be important in the process by which
his hero developed into the perfect ascetic: these were that his
increasingly severe acts of self-denial provoked the demons;
and that, by going into the waste places and the deserts, he
invaded their special preserves, and challenged them to battle
to the death. He wrestled not only with those temptations
which were due to the passions of the flesh, but, more particu-
larly, with a thousand forms of physical torment; and it was
his victories over those assailants and these difficulties that
made him the "perfect" ascetic. As such, God graciously
vouchsafed to him visions, foreknowledge, and the gift of
miraculous healing; even wild beasts obeyed his commands
and served him, just as they had once served A d a m in the
garden of Eden. As an ascetic, he regained the lost image
of God.
Athanasius proceeds at this point to reproduce a whole host
of popular traditions of his miracles; and the stories he recorded
1 vita Ant. 49. 50. 89-92 2 Baedeker, Aegypten, 8th ed. 211; plan at p. 392
136 6. MONASTICISM

p r o v i d e d w h a t succeeding generations of readers h a v e mostly

found to be of absorbing interest. W i t h these popular traditions
as a basis, however, Athanasius w e n t on to m a k e fresh points
w h i c h were of higher v a l u e . I n the first place, he showed that
the course of A n t o n y ' s life as an ascetic followed the e x a m p l e
o f Pythagoras, as depicted in the legends of philosophy. So
closely did he resemble his model, a c c o r d i n g to A t h a n a s i u s ,
t h a t not only isolated phrases w h i c h were characteristic o f
Pythagoras, b u t even w h o l e sentences could be q u o t e d v e r b a -
t i m and applied to him. 1 A t first glance, anyone r e a d i n g the
b i o g r a p h y of an ascetic m i g h t be confounded b y the cost of
g a i n i n g complete indifference to the claims of the b o d y ,
i n v o l v i n g self-denials practised over a period of t w e n t y years;
b u t the reader was m a d e to understand how this cost was
c o u n t e r b a l a n c e d b y the creation of an ethos entirely spiritual
in quality and undisturbed b y any passions. T h u s A n t o n y is
described c o m i n g on to the public scene, " f r o m the a d y t u m ,
as a consecrated mystic filled with G o d " . H e then b e g a n to
organise (polizein) his theocracy of monks in the same m a n n e r
as, at an earlier date, the great Greek, Pythagoras, h a d shaped
a philosophical "polis" in southern I t a l y for his own disciples. 2
Athanasius puts a long speech into the mouth of A n t o n y , 3
e x p l a i n i n g to the monks the real art and m a n n e r of asceticism.
T h e i r whole life was to be conducted under the g u i d a n c e of
the dominant idea of the Last J u d g m e n t , and each d a y was to
b e to them as if it were their last. T h e i r w h o l e effort was to be
concentrated on the " p a t h of v i r t u e " ; and this included the
virtues t a u g h t b y the philosophers, such as wisdom, upright-
ness, temperance, courage, insight; and also the Christian
virtues of love, meekness, faith in Christ, good temper, and
hospitality. T h i s goal lay within our own hearts, and w e were
to set our wills on it. O u r souls were naturally g o o d and in
h a r m o n y w i t h virtue; and these teachings were the means b y
w h i c h they were to b e restored to health, and kept p e r m a n -
ently in the state w i t h w h i c h they h a d been e n d o w e d by G o d
at creation.

1 R . Reitzenstein, Des Athanasius Werk über das Leben des Antonius, 1 9 1 4 (Sitzungs-
ber. H e i d e l b e r g . A k a d . 1914, A b h . 8) p. 14fr.
2 vita Ant. 14 3 ibid 16-43
 BELIEF IN DEMONS 137
After having dwelt on matters on this high and philosophical
level, the speech rapidly descends to lower ground, and
discusses what even Athanasius appears to have regarded as
the main practical problem of the monastic life, viz., wrestling
with demons. Demons surrounded us on all hands, crowded
in upon us in all kinds of forms, and exercised innumerable
cunning devices, all in order to hinder the progress of an
earnest devotee. Athanasius then goes into the minutest detail,
instructing his readers about the nature of demons, their
methods of attack, the dangers encountered by the soul
through fear of demons or through self-deception; but then,
further, about the effects of an unshakeable confidence in
God, and about the serene superiority of the beleaguered soul.
He utters many warnings against haughtiness and credulity,
against the laziness of monks, and over-weening confidence in
the gifts of God's grace; and he mingles these warnings with
his teachings. In this way he portrays Antony from two sides:
on the one hand, as the model of a genuine ascetic, and on the
other, as preaching Athanasius's own ideals of the monastic
life, ideals which combined crass belief in demons with high
aims of a philosophical and Christian kind.
It is indeed this book on monasticism which reveals to us
for the first time certain unexpected and deeply hidden roots
in the personal religion of Athanasius. It is astonishing to
gaze into the heart of a person like Athanasius, especially
when we remember that he was one of the leading men at the
beginning of the silver age of the Graeco-Roman world, and
that his theological writings reveal a profound insight into
the nature of Christian truth. 1 Yet, in spite of all this, there
were at the basis of his thought crude ideas drawn from
nature-religions, with thousands of devils and evil spirits
roaming everywhere. Moreover his whole world of thought
was shaped by forces and principles derived from an outworn
Greek philosophy.
Antony, as a historical person, and the other ascetics of
the Coptic tradition, were altogether lacking in the Greek
element noticeable in Athanasius. T h a t fact draws attention
all the more definitely to their hostility to everything that
1
vide V o l . 3, 2 4 7 - 5 2
138 6. MONASTICISM

b e l o n g e d to the surrounding physical world, a w o r l d w h i c h

was conceived b y t h e m to be full of devils possessing an
o b j e c t i v e reality. T h e s e devils devoured every h u m a n being
w h o did not exercise the most ruthless self-denial to an extent,
indeed, bordering on self-immolation; and w h o did not refuse
all p l a c e to the claims of the senses, in their efforts to reach
safety in a life " l i k e that of the angels". Ideas of this kind were
d o m i n a t e d b y a soteriology in w h i c h redemption is attained
b y a v o l u n t a r y act of one's o w n , in w h i c h Christ serves only
as an e x a m p l e and the Bible only as a text-book, a n d in w h i c h
c h u r c h a n d sacrament were r e g a r d e d merely as subsidiary aids.
O f the ascetics w h o lived in the desert, A n t o n y is the first
whose n a m e is definitely k n o w n . T h i s contention is supported,
not only b y Athanasius's b i o g r a p h y , but also b y the unanimous
tradition of the monks in the succeeding period. J e r o m e
attempted to dispute his priority in favour of the sainted P a u l
of T h e b e s , but this thesis was hopeless from the start; and, in
spite o f J e r o m e ' s prestige and his m a n y writings, his fanciful
ideas h a v e rightly been refused acceptance. O n the other
h a n d , it is true enough that, shortly after A n t o n y b e c a m e a
figure of historical importance, in another region a n u m b e r of
ascetics took to the desert and flourished there. T h e y attracted
far greater attention than A n t o n y because, in spite of living
a p a r t from the world, these hermits exercised a m u t u a l
influence on each other, and thus facilitated one another's
progress towards realizing the ideal of the ascetic life. T h e
region chosen b y them was the N a t r o n V a l l e y ( W a d i N a t r u n ) ,
some 60 to 70 miles north-west of Cairo. 1 In ancient times,
the monks were said to be congregated round three centres:
Scetis, Nitria, and the Cellia. T h e founder of Nitria is reputed
to be A m u n w h o actually died before A n t o n y ; 2 Scetis owes its
origin to Makarius of A l e x a n d r i a , w h o was born c. A.D. 300,
a n d w h o lived to be nearly one h u n d r e d years old. H e also did
some w o r k of a preliminary character in the Cellia and in Nitria. 3
T h e s e settlements were arranged in such a w a y that the

1 B a e d e k e r , Aegypten, 8th ed. 3 1 , p l a n at p. 5; a light r a i l w a y goes in t h a t

d i r e c t i o n via E l - C h a t a t b a to Bir Hooker See also Butler, Hist. Lausiaca, z,
187—90 Heussi, Monchtum, 1 5 7 , n. 1 D e s c r i p t i o n : Hist. mon. 23, 3 cf. 30, 1
Hist. Laus. 7
2 Hist. Laus. 18, p. 44, 5 5 1 , 10. 12 56, 15 3 Hist. mon. 30, 1
 EGYPTIAN HERMITS 139
individual cells w e r e so widely separated that the monks
could neither see nor hear one another, and each was able to
live a life of undisturbed meditation. But on Saturdays a n d
Sundays, the m e m b e r s of the monastic c o m m u n i t y g a t h e r e d
together for worship; and these occasions afforded their o n l y
opportunity for m u t u a l intercourse. It was therefore possible
for a monk to lie dead in his cell for four days before t h e
brethren w e r e a w a r e of his demise. A p a r t f r o m these assemblies,
the records tell o f agapes, i.e. c o m m o n love-feasts, as a n
arrangement w h e r e b y the monks c a m e into h u m a n and spiri-
tual contact w i t h e a c h other. 1 A " s a n h e d r i n " of the brethren
punished serious transgressions of the regulations g o v e r n i n g the
ascetic life. 2 T h e hermits earned their subsistence b y m a n u a l
labour, mostly in the form of w e a v i n g mats from palm-leaves,
the mats being sold in the city b y m e r c h a n t entrepreneurs.
T h e colonies of monks in the N a t r o n V a l l e y b e c a m e v e r y
famous before the end of the fourth century; but, in the
second d e c a d e of the fifth century, the colony at Scetis w a s
looted a n d entirely destroyed b y an attack of barbarians.
A further consequence was a failure of courage from w h i c h
this particular monastic world never recovered. 3 T h e first
h e a d of the colony of anchorites was F a t h e r A m u n , a n d
A n t o n y is said to h a v e seen his soul j o u r n e y u p to h e a v e n .
T h e person of t h e greatest importance a m o n g t h e m w a s ,
however, his slightly y o u n g e r contemporary, Makarius t h e
" E g y p t i a n " , i.e. the C o p t , a sobriquet used to distinguish
h i m f r o m M a k a r i u s of A l e x a n d r i a w h o laboured n e a r b y .
O t h e r outstanding names in this monastic paradise are P a m b o ,
P a u l the Simple, Poimen, and Sisoes. Arsenios, w h o h a d
previously been a courtier, was a m o n g those w h o were present
w h e n Scetis was laid waste.
D u r i n g the early, prosperous times in the N a t r o n V a l l e y ,
the beginnings w e r e m a d e of writing a d o c u m e n t w h i c h c a m e
to be o f u n b o u n d e d significance for the w h o l e monastic
m o v e m e n t : the Apophthegmata Patrum, or Sayings of the Fathers.
A m o n k w a s u n d e r the obligation of silence, and, if he spoke
at all, he was to utter things of divine import, good for t h e
1
Apophth. J o h . Kolobos 9, p. 205 Sisoes 2, p. 392
2
ibid. Moses 2, p. 281 Pior 3, p. 373 3 Heussi, Mönchtum, 138
140 6. MONASTICISM

soul. T h e more important men of advanced years observed the

rule strictly, and they were regarded as having attained
perfection; or at least, that is the opinion that ruled in their
immediate neighbourhood. As a consequence they were held
to possess the Holy Spirit, and their words to have more than
a human validity and significance. Disciples would beg their
master, and pilgrims would beseech a famous holy man, and
say: " G r a n t me a w o r d " ; but they often had to wait a long
time for an answer to their request. When at last the holy
man broke silence, and either answered the question that had
been put, or uttered some helpful sentence, what he said was
received as a gift from heaven and gratefully stored up in the
memory, 1 especially when it was in direct harmony with the
rules of the monastic life, and was free from the dangerous
ambiguity of Biblical passages. 2 A parable or a symbolical act
might take the place of a mere saying—for the holy man of
the desert, like the spirit-filled prophet of the church's earliest
days, was the vehicle of divine revelations. A n d , just as had
been done formerly in the case of the Montanists, 3 so now in
the Natron Valley, care was taken to put the "Sayings of the
Fathers" on record, and, in appropriate cases, to relate the
particular circumstances.
A n anthology of this kind was rapidly built up, of consider-
able historical trustworthiness even as to the names of the
sages. It goes without saying that, in the first instance, the
tradition was of an oral character and in the Coptic language.
It was later translated into Greek and written down; then it
was expanded by the addition of sayings from other areas; 4
possibly, even at an early date, the anthology was divided
into several branches. Then, probably in the sixth century,
some ingenious person gathered up everything he could lay
hands on, and arranged the series in alphabetical order
according to the names of the speakers, and in Greek; this
series has survived in later redactions and various translations. 6
1 Bousset, Apophthegmata, 7gf. 2 Apophth. Amun. J\'itr. 2, p. 128
3 vide V o l . 3, I93ff. 4 Heussi, op. cit. 145. 158
5 O f fundamental importance is Boussct's examination of the v h o l e of this

literature, Apophthegmata, 1923; text in Cotelier, Ecclesiae Craecat Monumenta,

1, 3 3 8 - 7 1 2 (i677) = Migne, Pair. Gr. 65, 71-440 English trans, of the Syriac
version by E. A . W . Budge, The Wit and Wisdom of the Christian Fathers of Egypt,
O x f o r d , 1934
 PACHOMIUS AND HIS RULES I4I

Springing as they do directly from life, these literary deposits

are sources of a special value; they give a vivid picture of the
monks in the Natron Valley as regards their habits of life
and, more particularly, the character of their religion. We
shall take the opportunity on a later page of returning to this
subject. The influence which this book exercised on the future
may be estimated from the fact that it was used in various
languages for the devotional exercises of monks in both east
and west.
During the time when anchoritism was in process of develop-
ment in the northern provinces of Egypt, Pachomius the Copt
was giving tentative shape to the monastic life properly so-
called, in a situation near the loop of the Nile at Dendera in
southern Egypt. He had been born in the upper Thebaid of
pagan parents, and first came into contact with Christianity
as a recruit in the army. With other fellow-sufferers in his
levy, he was incarcerated in a village of the Thebaid, and
experienced in his own person the sympathy and care of the
local Christians. After regaining his freedom, he set off to
Chenobaskeia (Shenesit, today El-Kaor wa's Saijad, at the
western end of the loop), sought baptism, and then entered on
the ascetic life. His teacher, Palamon, instructed him in
fasting, prayer, and obedience. The two men wove sack-cloth
to earn their necessary means of living and to give away as
alms. At length, Pachomius heard a voice from heaven when
he was at prayer in the village of Tabennisi, which lay a
little further up-stream, and was commanded: "Stay here and
build a monastery; for many will gather round you in order
to become monks." He and Palamon immediately removed
there and settled down, but the latter was already a sick man,
and soon died. Pachomius was then joined by his brother
John; and within a short time the promise was fulfilled:
strangers came to him in order to share his way of life. After
putting them to the proof, he let them don the monkish habit.
The names of the first eight have been celebrated in the
memory of a proud tradition. 1 That is how Pachomius's first
monastery came into existence; the date was probably about
A.D. 320.
1 Pachomii vita, 25. 26, cf. 79
142 6. MONASTICISM

This was not the first of all the monasteries, nor even the
first in that area. T h e records say expressly that when Pacho-
mius's monastery began to flourish, two other monasteries of
" a g e d brothers" requested that they might be strengthened
with some of Pachomius's monks, and reconstituted on the
model of his order. Moreover, a certain Aotas is explicitly
mentioned as a predecessor, although it must be granted that
he was not very successful. 1 T h e important characteristic in
the case of Pachomius was that he put an end to the loose
association of the earlier ascetics, who merely lived in the
same neighbourhood as each other; he housed the community
of monks together and made them into a fellowship; and he
issued definite rules to govern their life.
It was with the matter of having "rules" that Pachomius
introduced a new feature, and one that was to prove of
unbounded significance for future ages; and a legend 2 that
cropped up a few generations later, was not entirely baseless.
But it was rhetorical in asserting that the holy man received
his rules engraved on bronze and from the hands of an angel.
In A.D. 404, Jerome translated the Greek version of these
rules, with certain additions, into Latin; and there is every
reason for regarding this translation, not only as the earliest
form of the text now extant, but also as a reliable copy of
Pachomius's regulations for his monasteries. 3 T h e very fact
of the haphazard way in which the rules follow on one another
is a sure sign that they were drawn up as a result of actual
practice and experience; and there are many sections which
are clearly due to the need for new addenda to the corpus of
rules as it had previously existed. If we take these regulations
and put them side by side with those explanations of, and
comments on, the monastic tradition which are to be found
both in the best Greek accounts of Pachomius's life, 4 and also
in Jerome's preface to his translation, the principles behind
the movement and its constitution become obvious.
A person wishing to become a monk applied to the porter,
and, after orders had been received from the abbot, he was
1 Pachomii vita, 54 cf. also 33. 120. p. 97, 35 2 Hist. Laus. 32, p . 88, 4, B u t l e r
3 E d i t e d b y A m a n d B o o n , Pachomiana Latina ( L o u v a i n , 1932)
* S. Pachomii vitae Graecae, ed. F. H a l k i n , Brussels, 1932 (Subsidia Hagiographica
19). Vita prima, §28, p. 18
 THE WORKING OF A MONASTERY I43

lodged in the visitors' quarters close to the gate. While lodging

there, he h a d to learn b y heart the Lord's Prayer and certain
Psalms; meantime inquiries were m a d e into his character and
general circumstances. I f there proved to be no obstacle to
his reception, he was taught the rules of the monastery; w h e n
his training was complete, he was given the monk's habit,
his o w n secular garments being taken in charge b y the relevant
officers.
A t a later date, these regulations were extended; and now,
before being accepted, the novice was required to learn b y
heart twenty psalms and either two epistles from the N e w
Testament, or some other equivalent part of the Bible. H e
had also to learn h o w to read and write: " a n d no one at all
is to be admitted to the monastery w h o cannot read, and
w h o does not know some part of the Bible b y heart, at least
from the N e w Testament and the Psalms". T h e requirement
naturally meant that proper arrangements had to be m a d e for
loaning books of the Bible for study in the cells, and for their
due return to the librarian. A l l these preliminaries only
required a few days to fulfil, after w h i c h the novice was
initiated into the fellowship of the monks. N o t h i n g stands on
record about taking a v o w . 1 T h e first time the initiate was to
join the community in worship, ipso facto on either a S a t u r d a y
evening or on a Sunday, the porter led him through the gates
of the cloister into the church, and ushered him into the last
seat in the congregation; there he was to remain till he was
appointed to a house. T h e n at last, he was in a position to
become acquainted with his new home.
T h e monastery itself was constituted of a great complex o f
buildings shut off from the outside world b y a surrounding
wall. 2 T h e monks lived together in groups in houses, and
each had his o w n cell there; the cell could not be locked; it
was provided with the inmate's possessions, viz. two shirts
(lebiton) properly so-called, as well as one w o r n at work; a
linen cloth to protect the head and shoulders from the sun;
a mantle of goat-skin (melotes), a pair of shoes, two caps, a
girdle, and a stick. A small pointed instrument for extracting
prickles and splinters from the skin h u n g for c o m m o n use at a
1 Reg. 49. 139. 140 vide loans: 25. 100. 101 2 Regula, cap. 84, p. 38, 4, Boon
144 MONASTICISM

window. 1 But all concern for the well-being of the body, and
all washing and bathing, were regarded as suspect in the
genuine ascetic tradition. 2
Each house had its own head, and three or four houses
constituted a group ( t a g m a , tribus). T h e inmates of any single
house all performed the same kind of manual labour, especially
the weaving of mats; but there were also linen weavers, fullers,
tailors, shoemakers, waggon-makers; 3 and frequently all the
members of the colony went out to work in the fields, in the
desert, or in the low-lying, reedy lands on the banks of the
Nile. T h e general affairs of the monastic community were
assigned to three special houses, of which the first was respon-
sible for the cooking, the second for the care of the sick, and
the third for dealings with the outside world. T h e last lodged
the guests, received and instructed the novices, and also
arranged the dealings with entrepreneurs who supplied the
monastery with all the goods it needed, and took in exchange
the products of the monks' own labours. 4
T h e three special houses carried out their duties for three
weeks, at the end of which time they resumed their customary
manual labour, and were replaced by monks belonging to
another group. 6 It seems to have been a still earlier rule that
each house took its turn weekly in serving, i.e. in giving out
the materials and the tools for work, reciting the Biblical
passages at worship, and singing in the choir. 6 All who lived
in one house took their meals together, the first about midday,
and the second towards evening: and this latter was the main
meal. T o go without the mid-day meal was regarded as a
specially ascetic act, but not always as meritorious. 7 T h e
1 Reg. 107. 81. 82 Orsiesius, 22 p. 123, Boon
2 ibid. 67. 92f. cf. Hist. Laus. 1, p. 15, 15 A t h a n . vita Ant. 60
3 Praef. Hier. 6, p. 8, Boon cf. Hist. Laus., 32, p. 94, 7
4 A group of American archaeologists in 1 9 1 2 - 1 4 excavated a monastery in a

valley near Thebes dating from the fifth to the seventh centuries, work that
has afforded a very vivid glimpse of the life of the desert monks. T h e discoveries
included buildings, furnishings, tools, and even the mummified bodies of the
monks in their habits; also correspondence. A short study by W . E. C r u m
( V o l . I, 125—85) summarizes their conclusions regarding the lives of the hermits
of the Thebaic! cf. Publications of the Metropolitan Museum of Art: Egyptian
Expedition, ed. hy Albert Morton L y t h g o e The Monastery of Epiphanius at
Thebes, ed. by H . E. Winlock, W . E. C r u m , H . E. Evelyn White, N . Y . 1926,
2 vols, folio review in Gottinger Gel. Anz. 1928, 1 1 2 - 1 6
6 Pachomii vita, I, 28, p. 18. 6 Reg. 13. 15. 23. 24. 27 cf. 64. I I I . 129
7 Pachom. vita, 69, p. 46, 8 Paralipom. 29, p. 156, 25 Jerome, Praef. 5, p. 7
 WORSHIP 145
members of each house also met for worship twice in every
twenty-four hours: once in the early morning before dawn,
and again in the evening. 1 The service consisted of twelve
psalms followed by a similar number of prayers and two
readings. The psalms were read aloud by separate persons;
they stood up in turn in the midst of the congregation, who
remained seated on low hassocks. 2 These customs were ob-
served in all the monasteries in Egypt; but a special feature
of the rules laid down by Pachomius 3 was that, at the evening
service, the number of psalms and consequently the number of
prayers were reduced to six. 4
The whole of the monks in the monastery met together for
worship on Saturday evening and on Sunday, 5 and made use
of the same order of service as in the daily devotional exercises. 9
But at the early morning service on Sunday, perhaps also on
Saturday evening, 7 the eucharistic sacrifice was offered with
an accompanying liturgy. For this purpose, it was arranged,
in the earliest days, that a priest should come from one of the
churches in the vicinity; and it gradually became usual for
priests to enter the monastery themselves, but without claiming
special privileges. 8 When these celebrations were ended, the
abbot went on to deliver a doctrinal address: a "catechism".
Wednesdays and Fridays were fast days, and then, at the
early morning service, the head of each house used to give
catechetical instruction to the members of his household. 9
Very often at these services, a monk would be plagued with
sleepiness early and late in the day; but even so he was not
allowed to get slack at work. Rather he had to ply the spindle
and keep busy spinning thread for his mats.
All did the same kind of work between morning and evening
prayer, and it was done by each monk in his own cell; the
isolation of anchoritism was preserved to this extent even in
1 2 3
vide Vol. 3, 300 So Cassian, Ins tit. 2, 6. 7 Pachom. vita, 58, p. 40, 14
* Reg. 23. 1 2 1 . 125. 126. 155. 186; twelve evening prayers; so episl. Amunis, 22
p- n o , 33
5
Pachom. vita, 29, p. 19, 8. 9 147, p. 93, 15 Epist. Amun. 22, p. 111, 5. 8
6 7
Reg. 1 5 5 Socrates, 5, 22, 43-44 cf. Pachom. vita, 29
8
Pachom. vita, 27 Reg. 1 5 - 1 6 . 18.
0
ibid. 28, p. 19, 3 - 5 (should Reg. 20 be corrected to harmonize? O r is
Reg. 20 a n earlier phase?) For t h e early m o r n i n g cf. Reg. 19. 22 cf. Paral.
19, p. i43f.
K
146 6. MONASTICISM

the cloister; i n d e e d there w e r e regulations specifically enjoining

silence, f o r b i d d i n g the b r e t h r e n to b r e a k it b y visiting each
other's cells, a n d discussing a n y t h i n g at all c o n c e r n i n g t h e
outside w o r l d . N o conversation of a n y kind was p e r m i t t e d at
m e a l times, a n d each m o n k h a d to keep his h e a d concealed in
his hood in o r d e r to m a i n t a i n a n o u t w a r d separateness a l t h o u g h
the b r o t h e r s w e r e sitting side b y side. 1 T h e y did n o t sleep o n
bunks, b u t o n chaise-longues. 2
I t was a very strenuous m o d e of life, a n d it was k e p t u p b y
the q u i t e v o l u n t a r y assent of t h e monks; the p u n i s h m e n t s
p r o v i d e d for in the regulations w e r e insignificant a n d almost
of a childish kind. T h e one t h a t is most frequently m e n t i o n e d ,
a n d t h a t was used as p u n i s h m e n t o n ten successive occasions
w h e n a m a n transgressed b y b a d h a b i t s or ill-deeds, took t h e
f o r m of a reproof given b y t h e a b b o t a n d received by t h e
m o n k in a h u m b l e attitude, in f r o n t of t h e whole c o m m u n i t y . 3
A n o t h e r p u n i s h m e n t consisted of b e i n g m a d e to s t a n d while
t h e o t h e r brothers sat, a p u n i s h m e n t w h i c h could be very
trying after, or even before, a h a r d day's work in t h e h e a t . 4
A different sort of p u n i s h m e n t was t h e loss of status d u e to
seniority, a n d d e g r a d a t i o n to a place a m o n g the new-comers;
leaders m i g h t suffer a t e m p o r a r y suspension from office. 6 O n
r a r e occasions, an offender m i g h t b e excluded f r o m a meal,
a n d even c o n d e m n e d to a m o r e prolonged absence f r o m t h e
b r e t h r e n , a n d to subsistence on " b r e a d a n d w a t e r " . 6 T h r a s h i n g
is only m e n t i o n e d once in t h e rules, 7 a n d was provided for a
m o n k " w h o angers the b r e t h r e n w i t h his remarks, a n d seduces
the souls of the simple".
T h e p o w e r of p u n i s h m e n t was reserved entirely to the a b b o t
{abba, f a t h e r ) ; indeed in his h a n d s lay t h e whole responsibility
for the life a n d prosperity of the m o n a s t e r y ; like all office-
bearers in a monastic c o m m u n i t y , h e h a d a p e r m a n e n t d e p u t y
(deuteros), beside a n assistant to a t t e n d to the domestic business
(oikonomos). Some monasteries h a d a council of the leading
monks, a kind of senate of t h e cloister.
All t h e monasteries were subject to Pachomius, the a b b o t -
1
Reg. 112. 116. 122. 60. 31. 29 cf. Hist. Laus. 32, p. 92, 1
2 3 4
ibid. 88 Hist. Laus. 32, p. 8g, 7 ibid. 8 ibid. 21. 22. 31
5 6 7
ibid. 161. 136. 137 ibid. 32. 160. 163 ibid. 163
 SPREAD OF MONASTICISM 147

general, and he resided in the senior cloister at P a b a u (Fau-

K e b l i ) 1 which was the seat of the central authority. Here,
twice annually, at Easter and on A u g u s t 13, the general
assembly was convened; and not only the abbots, but also all
the monks of all the monasteries, were due to attend. Spiritual
and administrative questions were dealt with on these occa-
sions; and also a statement of accounts to the end of J u l y h a d
to be presented b y each monastery showing h o w it h a d dis-
charged its stewardship. 2 T h e original monastery at Tabennisi
had given rise in only two decades to a great association of
monasteries, all founded b y Pachomius, and all observing the
same rules. T h e y all lay in the region above the loop of the
Nile between D e n d e r a and Panopolis ( A c h m i m ) and only at
Pichnum, near Latopolis (Esna), did they stretch an antenna
into the upper T h e b a i d . 3
Foundations of this kind were not invariably welcomed.
T h e bishop of the city of Panopolis was anxious that a monastery
should be founded there, but the inhabitants pulled d o w n as
m u c h of the walls as had been built, and it required a miracle
before the work could be successfully completed. 4 T a k e n on
the whole, however, the monastics of the kind that lived
under a " r u l e " flourished, and increased. T h i s system was
imitated elsewhere, and it attracted to Christianity mostly
the p a g a n fellahin. Usually the inmates of Pachomius's monas-
teries were Copts; when, as was rarely the case, Greeks were
to be found in them, they were grouped into their o w n " h o u s e "
— e . g . in P a b a u , there were twenty. T h e addresses delivered
in Coptic b y the abbot were translated for their benefit b y
an interpreter. 5
E g y p t was the classic land of monasticism even before the
end of the fourth century, 6 and visitors went there to study the
real nature and practice of asceticism at the feet of celebrated
anchorites, and this in monasteries w h i c h were reputed to be
models of their kind. T h e surviving Itineraries trace journeys

I Baedeker, 8th G e r m a n ed., 224 2 Pachom. vita, 83. 122 Reg. 27

3 G e n e r a l m a p in Butler, Hist. Laus. 2, X C V I I I T h e vita Pachomii, 1 1 2 , p. 73,
II lists 9 monasteries, cf. 81. 83. a n d 54. E l e v e n w e r e u n d e r T h e o d o r e , cf.
Epist. Amun. 21, b u t later, there w e r e twelve, cf. Pachom. vita, 134
4 Pachom. vita, 81 6 Amunis epist. 7 cf. 27
6 A list of the E g y p t i a n monasteries is g i v e n in C a b r o l , Diet. 2, 3 1 2 9 - 3 6
148 6. MONASTICISM

through the whole of Egypt, from thé Delta and the Natron
Valley to as far south as Esna; and the town of Oxyrhynchos
(Behnesa), 1 is depicted as a veritable paradise for monks.
Neither pagans nor heretics were to be found there, and so
the bishop could bestow his blessing while on the open street.
The people gathered for worship in twelve churches, but the
number of monks was greater than that of the laity. Monastery
after monastery was huddled together within the city walls,
each with its own chapel; but space became too limited, and a
new town, consisting of nothing but monasteries, had to be
built outside the walls in order to provide accommodation for
10,000 monks and 20,000 nuns. The spirit of the Christian
religion was so greatly in the ascendant in the whole of public
and social life, that the chief magistrate ordered the police
under him to keep watch at the city gates for needy travellers,
and bring them to the council house to receive alms. When
painting this picture of the state of affairs, of course the writer
had given it a very rosy hue; nevertheless, the underlying
facts are clearly visible, viz., that c. A.D. 400, there were places
in south Egypt in which monasteries dominated the life of the
towns.
Trustworthy documents of an early date are extant, testi-
fying to the very great increase of the number of monasteries
of Pachomius's type. The adherents of Meletius, with their
rigour conceived after the manner of the early church, s were
inclined, naturally enough, to the practice of asceticism.
Certain papyri, recently discovered, show that, as early as
the year 335, monasteries with "regular" organization were
to be found in central and upper Egypt. There is a prima facie
probability that these monasteries were connected with the
movement initiated by Pachomius, 3 an opinion supported by
evidence that they, too, observed Pachomius's custom of
praying in a standing position, with the body in the attitude
of a crucifix. 4
Contemporary with the adoption of rules governing the
lives of men who became ascetics, there was a similar develop-
2 3
1
Hist. mon. 5 vide Vol. 3, I04f. K. Holl, Ces. Schriften, 2, 295f.
4
H. Idris Bell, Jews and Christians in Egypt (1924), 8 i f . Pap. n. 1 9 1 7 , 6. 19
cf. Pachom. vita, 16, p. 10, 29 cf. 5, p. 3, 29 vita altera, 50, p. 219, 12
 RELIGION OF THE MONASTICS 149
ment for the welfare of nuns. Antony introduced his sister to
a nunnery (parthenon) which was already in existence, and
Pachomius built one for his own sister, supplied it with a
"rule", and put it under the supervision of an aged monk. 1
Theodore, who succeeded him next but one, founded two
more nunneries. 2

(3) The Religion of the Monastics

Thus it came about that countless thousands of simple
Egyptian peasants were crowding their way into the cloisters;
this fact in itself poses the question, "What was their concep-
tion of Christianity, and why did the majority of people
regard Christianity as identical with the monastic life?" In as
far as it was a matter of external things, entering a cloister
meant that life became secure: the step guaranteed protection
from hunger and gave one a home; and it got one into the
habit of regular labour, even if that labour was usually very
monotonous. The monasteries developed into factories pro-
ducing woven goods of every kind, and carried on a steady
trade with the capital in the Delta. If an abbot with well-
developed business instincts was at the head of the monastery,
vessels would be built on his own wharves, and the profits
would go to the purchase of additional farm-lands and forests. 3
Granted that the more rigorous-minded brethren would voice
their protests if commerce of this kind went beyond certain
limits, nevertheless, in course of time, all the monasteries had
adapted themselves in one way or another to the economic
necessities of the situation. On the other hand, we must
recognize that there were essential considerations besides
those of an external kind. T h e training and discipline of the
cloister could not do other than exercise an immediate and
direct influence on the monk's inner life, and face him with a
task which concerned his very soul. It is the nature of that
task which now demands our investigation.
The problem of the specific religion of the Egyptian monks
can be approached from various angles, because documents
1
Athan. vita Ant. 3 Pachom. vita altera, 28, p. ig6=tertia, 42, p. 278 similarly
Theodore's mother, Pachom. vita, 33
2 3
Pachom. vita, 134 ibid. 127, 146
150 6. MONASTICISM

h a v e c o m e d o w n whose very purpose was to give a v i v i d

description of it. W e h a v e already mentioned the Sayings of
the Fathers,1 records w h i c h , in m a n y respects, give precisely
the details for w h i c h w e are looking; they are c o l o u r e d b y
theological and literary considerations only in isolated p a t c h e s
of a late date. T h e writings that tell of P a c h o m i u s preserve
m u c h v a l u a b l e information. T h e y w e r e put together b y T h e o -
dore, w h o c a m e into control next b u t one after P a c h o m i u s ;
a n d they contain, in addition, numerous records h a v i n g to do
w i t h T h e o d o r e himself. T h i r d l y , there is the a c c o u n t of
monasticism written b y R u f i n u s : it tells o f a j o u r n e y m a d e
b y him in A.D. 394; and, in spite o f all its conventionalism a n d
tendentiousness, it provides the student w i t h a m p l e d a t a for
d r a w i n g inferences as to the real n a t u r e of the religion of the
monks. T h e document was originally written in Greek, a n d a
G r e e k text has survived; but the L a t i n translation of R u f i n u s
has an independent w o r t h because based, to a large extent,
on a superior form of the Greek text. 2
T h e a b o v e account b y R u f i n u s was imitated, at a slightly
later date, in a work ascribed to Palladius and k n o w n as
Historia Lausiaca\ Lausos, a L o r d C h a n c e l l o r , being the person
to w h o m this account of monasticism was dedicated. 3 T h e
scheme of the work is such that it goes b e y o n d the confines of
E g y p t and the interests of the m a l e anchorites; rather, it
includes holy w o m e n , and gives a description of the monastic
m o v e m e n t in Palestine, Syria, and A s i a M i n o r . T h e same
author, w h o had himself been for m a n y years an ascetic in
E g y p t , was also responsible for the b i o g r a p h y of J o h n Chrysos-
tom. H e mingles his o w n experiences w i t h all sorts of irrelevant
information and r o m a n c i n g ; nevertheless, the various items
give the outlines of a self-consistent picture of the inner life
of monks belonging to the early period, i.e. the fourth
century.
T h e essentials are as follows: the w o r l d was full of demons,

1 vide supra, p . 139 F o r assessment of this s o u r c e , cf. H e u s s i , Mbnchlum, 154—280

2 T h e G r e e k text is e d i t e d b y E . P r e u s c h e n , Palladius und Rufinus ( 1 8 9 7 ) , p. 1—130
L a t i n : cf. M i g n e , Patrol. Lat. 2 1 , 3 8 7 - 4 6 2 R e m a r k s thereon: E. Schwartz,
ZNW, 36 ( 1 9 3 7 ) , 164, n . 6
3 E d . b y C . B u t l e r in Texts and Studies, 6, 2 ( 1 9 0 4 ) notes by E d . S c h w a r t z ,
ZNW, 36 ( 1 9 3 7 ) i 6 i f f .
 FEAR OF DEMONS

who threatened mankind in both body and soul, and barred

the way to God. They had this purchase over mankind on
account of sin. Once the facts were firmly grasped, the person
concerned yearned for liberation from these infernal dangers.
Liberation was offered by the Christian religion; it guaranteed
victory over sin and the peril of demons, if one would but
repudiate the world. To do so, however, was no simple affair,
but had to be slowly and painfully learned. Hence it turned
out that the safest course was to consult a teacher of asceticism,
and ask him for instruction; but it was simpler to enter a
cloister, where the larger community helped one to learn how
to avoid sin, and to practise the Christian virtues. It is easy
to see why, in the earliest stages, the question was never
raised whether the same goal could not be attained by the
ordinary fellowship of the Christian church. The technique
used by the ascetics in the warfare against demons was an
elaborate affair; and when that fact was realized, it was also
realized that it could simply not be carried out during one's
ordinary life as a citizen, no matter if one were a member of
the Christian church. Not to mention other considerations,
the restlessness of ordinary everyday life and the innumerable
contacts with persons of the opposite sex, disturbed that con-
centration of soul upon which all spiritual progress depended.
True, the writers occasionally pointed out how God had
recognized the virtues of certain members of the "laity", 1 but
this was only done to reprove monkish pride, and as a kind of
aside for paedagogical reasons. With this exception, it can be
said that everyone in this part of the world regarded Chris-
tianity, conceived in terms of practical redemption, as a
synonym for monasticism; demons could only be vanquished
by asceticism, and asceticism could only be followed when
the world had been repudiated. 2
If the foregoing be acccpted as giving the true state of
affairs, it is obvious that the monks considered that, in essence,
Christianity was an ethic; it consisted in disciplining the body
and the soul till all the emotions were banished, till everything
1
Apophth. Antonius, 24, p. 84 Hist. mon. iG thereon, remarks by Reitzenstein,
Studie, 34fT.
2
Apophth. Poimen, 0, p. 324a
152 6. MONASTICISM

of a physical nature had been sacrificed in the highest degree.

It also becomes plain why people of this standpoint were
completely indifferent to speculative theology and questions
of dogma; and this is the case in spite of the fact that their
indifference was occasionally depicted as a humble attitude
to heavenly verities too high for human kind. T h e fact remains
that there was no essential connection between the ethic of
asceticism and the careful discussion of Christian doctrine.
A man like Origen was able to feel at home in both worlds at
once, and reduce them to a unity; but the Egyptian monks
had not the same capacity. Nay, they scarcely mentioned even
the name of Jesus Himself; true, they did hold to the Sermon
on the Mount, whose stern requirements they regarded as
principles of asceticism to be kept in mind. Y e t when the cross
of Christ was mentioned by them, it was not to recall the story
of the Passion and all the theological doctrines that had been
drawn from it; but to speak of the sign of the cross, and its
power in exorcizing demons.
In spite of all factors of this kind, however, the monks laid
the greatest stress on orthodoxy, and were fanatically hostile
to every form of heresy; 1 nevertheless, their attitude is to be
understood as nothing more than an adherence to certain
accepted forms, and not as due to any understanding of the
issues themselves. T h e y received a password, as it were, from
the bishop of Alexandria, 2 and turned against everyone
whom he characterized, for the time being, as a heretic.
T h a t is how it came about that the monks of the desert deve-
loped into a body of troops on whom the pope of Egypt could
rely. There was a marked Meletian influence in the cloisters
only during the initial stages of the movement; and also,
round about A.D. 400 in the Natron Valley, a group of monks
of Greek education stood in defence of Origen; apart from
these cases, the monks in their multitudes were loyal to the
policy of their patriarchate, and they attacked heretics fiercely.
But it must be remembered at the same time, that they were
acting in defence of a primitive conception of God and against

1 Amun. epist. 2. 12. 32 cf. Pachom. vita, 3 1 ; Paralip. 7 Apophth. in Heussi,

Moncktum, 2728".
2 Pachom. vita, 94
 THE BIBLE J53

the mental refinements of G r e e k t h o u g h t — t h e monks in the

N a t r o n V a l l e y naturally s u c c u m b e d .
T h e Bible occupied a p r o m i n e n t place in the practical life
o f the monastics, in as far as it was a book to be learned b y
heart. W e saw on an earlier p a g e 1 how an a p p l i c a n t h a d to
prove that he was a suitable candidate b y learning b y heart
certain psalms and N e w T e s t a m e n t epistles; and a faithful
m o n k would m a k e e v e r y effort to increase the n u m b e r o f
passages he k n e w in this w a y . T h e r e are plenty o f instances
w h e r e monks are said to h a v e k n o w n the w h o l e of the Bible
b y heart. 2 Doubtless m a n y of such reports were exaggerated,
but an actual p e r f o r m a n c e was recorded b y a witness w h o
heard for himself. 3 It was the case of a certain F a t h e r H e r o n
w h o , on a j o u r n e y of some forty miles, recited the following
b y heart: fifteen psalms, the Epistle to the H e b r e w s , the book
o f Isaiah, a part of J e r e m i a h , the gospel a c c o r d i n g to St
L u k e , and, finally, the Proverbs of Solomon.
It should of course b e understood that this learning b y
h e a r t was nothing more t h a n a superficial accomplishment,
ascetic in character, a kind of w e a v i n g of mental m a t t i n g .
I n spite of the English idiomatic expression, this m e c h a n i c a l
m e m o r i z a t i o n did not penetrate the heart; it g a v e indeed only
the faintest Biblical tinge to the world of ideas in w h i c h the
monks lived. A study of the Sayings of the Fathers reveals an
astonishing paucity of citations from the Bible, and even these
are quoted for their v a l u e as admonitions to the practice of
asceticism. V e r y rarely is a n y mention m a d e of the men a n d
w o m e n of the Bible, and even w h e n such mention is m a d e , it
is only to exhibit them as examples of a type of life or as ideals
of virtue. T h e difference b e t w e e n these monks and the church's
m o d e of thought was b r o u g h t into sharp relief w h e n a bishop
like Epiphanius of C y p r u s g a v e an address to a congregation
of monastics: Epiphanius m a d e use of a long series of passages
q u o t e d from the Bible, but he did this because they formed
p a r t of his own message. 4 T h e r e is also the witness of Father
A m u n ' s rule. 5 I f the monks visited a neighbour in his cell,

1 vide supra, p. I42f. 2 Hist. Laus. II. 26. 32. 37. 58. 3 ibid. 26
4 Apophth. Epiphanius 5-15, p. 164ft". cf- also Kronios 1. 2. p. 248
6 Apophth. Amun. 2, p . 128
154 6. MONASTICISM

they must, o f course, not discuss a n y t h i n g " e x t e r n a l " , i.e.

h a v i n g to do w i t h the outside w o r l d . A disciple then asked
w h e t h e r they were to use sayings from the Bible, or f r o m the
Sayings of the Fathers w h e n they conversed. Father A m u n
replied, " I t is preferable to use the Sayings of the Fathers a n d
not passages from the Bible; it is v e r y dangerous to q u o t e the
B i b l e . " T h e incident gives an e x a c t reflection of the w a y in
w h i c h the Coptic monks used to think. T h e y regarded the
Bible as a book of divine origin, a n d for that reason it was to
b e held in high honour and respect, and learned b y heart as a
matter of d u t y ; but, for the most part, it was incomprehen-
sible and, in the last analysis, an eerie book. T h e y there-
fore preferred to keep to the teachings o f m e n w h o m they
regarded as authentic messengers sent b y G o d from their
o w n flesh a n d blood, and w h o were therefore closer and more
comprehensible.
Besides the reciting of the Psalms a n d other books of the
Bible, prayer was in daily use to p r o v i d e food for the soul.
N a t u r a l l y , prayer did not take the form of a spontaneous and
personal talking w i t h G o d , but that o f repeating prayers
previously f o r m u l a t e d ; in particular, the Lord's Prayer. H o w
completely p r a y e r was conceived as an ascetic exercise was
apparent in a case like that of F a t h e r P a u l of Scetis, w h o k n e w
b y heart more than 300 formulated prayers, and w h o recited
t h e m daily. H e checked off the n u m b e r b y 300 small pebbles,
letting one fall to the ground at the end of each petition.
W h e n he was informed, however, that a w o m a n in a certain
village was able to recite 700 prayers per d a y , he became very
dejected. Makarius comforted him b y advising that he should
not repeat more than 100 in a d a y , and yet could retain a
clear conscience. I f P a u l still felt scruples of conscience about
the 300, the reason was that his heart w a s not pure while he
p r a y e d , or else because it was in fact possible for him to
r e a c h a higher total. 1
O n e of these forms of p r a y e r is extant as an isolated instance.
F a t h e r Lucius of E n a t o n , a m a k e r of sail-cloth, prayed without
ceasing while at w o r k , and used the f o r m u l a : " H a v e mercy
u p o n me, O G o d , according to T h y loving kindness: according
1 Hist. Laus. 20
 CONSCIOUSNESS OF SIN 155
to the multitude of T h y tender mercies blot out my trans-
gressions" (Ps. 5 1 : 1), and repeated the formula all day till
nightfall. 1 In this case, the explicit ground and reason for
offering the prayer was the monk's consciousness of sin; but
it must not be forgotten that that was the very element that
lay at the root of whatever else expressed a monk's sense of
need, or his humility. Awareness of sin constituted the chink
in his armour which demons could use as a point of attack;
and he found that prayer was the most powerful means of
safety, a means of lifting the soul to God, and far above the
sphere where the demons were active. Tradition has handed
down a very significant saying by Father Agathon 2 to the
effect: " O n every occasion when a man has it in his heart to
pray, the demons try to prevent him; they know that nothing
is so dangerous to them as prayer to God. No matter what
path a man chooses, if he follow it perseveringly, he will reach
some goal. But prayer is needed up to the last effort he is
called on to m a k e " . So too Father Makarius, who gave the
plain advice: 3 " T h e r e is no need for a lot of babble; simply
spread out your hands and say: Lord have mercy on me
according to T h y will and wisdom. In times when you are
beset, say: Lord, help me. God knows full well all that you
need, and He is merciful."
This conviction, that sin separates us from God and that it
can only be overcome by prayer to God in His mercy, is the
only genuinely Christian element in monasticism; otherwise,
it has nothing more than external relations with the Christian
religion. It should also be remarked that this element lies at a
great depth, and only rarely reaches the light of day; rather,
as a general rule, far from being a part of life, prayer was a
mechanical repetition which achieved its purpose if one was
successful in keeping weariness at bay by an act of will. T h e
technique concentrated everything, in fact, on a single focal
point: by a monotonous regularity in habits of life, and by the
utmost exertion of one's spiritual powers, to concentrate all
the activities of the self on reaching the one and only goal,
viz., to lay hold of the divine; and this, in its highest form,
1 Apophth. Lucius, p. 253c 2 Apophth. Agathon, 9, p . 1 1 2
3 Apophth. Makarius, 19, p. 269
156 6. MONASTICISM

the contemplation of G o d , was granted to those rare souls

who were blessed in the full sense.
No visions were granted to ordinary monks; but to one w h o
was "perfect", 1 the spirit of G o d revealed things supernatural
or future. T h e celebrated gift possessed by the early Christian
prophets of reading the thoughts in the minds of others, was
shared by outstanding ascetics, and they also had authority
to proclaim forgiveness of sins in God's name. 2 T h e y could
foresee coming events, or those taking place at a distance;
and they received an early intimation of the day of their own
death; 3 if one of their number parted from this present world,
they saw his soul borne to heaven by a choir of angels. 4 When
Father Sisoes was on his death-bed, he spoke to the Fathers
sitting round about, and told what his eyes beheld: 5 Father
Antonius was coming to meet him, followed by a band of
prophets, and then by the apostles. His face lit up more and
more as the angels bore him upwards; the Lord Himself drew
near and said: "Bring to me the chosen vessel of the desert."
T h e n his face shone as brightly as the sun, and he gave up the
ghost; there was a flash of lightning, and incense filled the
whole house.
T h e world of the Bible came alive in the visions of the
monks; and it is even on record that one of them stood at the
foot of the cross at the side of Mary, the mother of God. 6
T h e Last Judgment was seen in vision, but it was not described
in all the majesty of New Testament apocalyptic; rather, it
was confined to hints and suggestions, and restricted to the
monks themselves. A b b o t Theodore of Pabau once shared in
the worship offered at night by the angels in the church of his
monastery, and he beheld the flashing splendour of the
heavenly hosts. H e had a very large number of visions granted
to him—but on account of this very fact he became suspect
to the church, and was called upon for his defence before the

1 Hist. mon. 30, 1

2 Pachom. vita, 106 Amun. epist. 3. 16. 1 7 - 2 3 . 28 Hist. mon. 8, 25 13, 10
18, 1
3 Amun. epist. 13. 3 1 . 34 Hist. Laus. 4. 14 A t h a n . vita Ant. 82. 87. Hist. mon.
1,65 16,23 ' 9 . 3; 32
4 A t h a n . vita Ant. 60 Amun. epist. 25 Paralip. 13 Hist. mon. 16, 24
6 Apophth. Sisoes, 14, p . 396 6 Apophth. Poimen, 144, p. 357
 VISIONS AND ECSTASIES 157
synod at Latoplis. As a consequence, he preserved the strictest
secrecy afterwards regarding his ecstatic experiences. 1
There is only one recorded case of attaining the ultimate
goal; Father Silvanus, the very person who saw the Last
Judgment. He assured a disciple who had observed him in
ecstasy, 2 and said: " I was carried up to heaven, and I beheld
the glory of G o d . " In other instances of the use of that lofty
term, "vision of G o d " (theoria), it is in the connotation of
"contemplativeness", the concentration of one's thoughts on
God, i.e. the perception of God as the experience takes place
in the heart. Those who were granted visions saw with their
eyes only portions of the heavenly substance, and these in the
form of flaming appearances. 3 But in the periods when they
sank silently into their own selves, God touched their souls;
and it depended on the general condition of the person concerned
whether he would rise into ecstasy and gaze in vision on the
heavenly world. Very little is said of this kind of experience in
the records left behind by the monastics within our purview. 4
Pachomius's ideal monk is described in a few words in one
passage. 6 A disciple who had transgressed was assigned by
Pachomius to an older brother for him to train. " S o it came
about that they wove their mats side by side, carried out their
fasts and said their prayers in the proper way. T h e young man
had been commanded to obey the senior, and he did so in
every respect: he did not eat even a leaf of lettuce without
being told. Moreover, he was so humble and modest that he
never spoke; nor did he readily lift his eyes to look at another
person. He practised asceticism consistently. He kept watch
during the night alone; when he had prayed to the point of
exhaustion and fatigue, he sat down in the middle of his cell,
and took some rest in this attitude; he then carried on with
his weaving throughout the night. 6 In short, he became a real
monk." There is as little exaggeration and extravagance in this
passage as in the hearts of the men among whom it was written,

1
Apophth. Silvanus, 2, p. 408 Pachom. vita, 7 1 . 102 Theodore: Amun. epist. 14
and Pachom. vita, 1 1 2 . 1 3 5
2 3
Apophth. Silvanus, 3, p. 408 Heussi, Monchtum, 267. 1 7 9
* e.g., Hist. mon. 1 1 , 1 9 - 2 0 1 2 , 7 cf. 28, 5 - 1 2 and remarks by Reitzenstein,
Studie, 174^
6 6
Pachom. vita, 105 cf. Hist. Laus. 2, p. 1 7 , 10
158 6. MONASTICISM

a n d for that reason it gives a clear a n d trustworthy picture of the

way in which a simple disciple obeyed the phrase in the Sayings
of the Fathers1 which declares, " A m a n will find no peace until
he says in his heart, I a m alone with God in the w o r l d . "
A monk had no need of his fellow-men. Strictly speaking,
he h a d no need of either church or sacrament, for his salvation
depended entirely on his own moral powers. Nevertheless,
service on Sunday was inconceivable without the eucharistic
sacrifice and the c o m m u n i o n which followed. T h e sacrament
h a d therefore a place in the monk's life, if not in the monastic
system; it was something ineffably holy, something divine
t h a t was projected into the earthly life of the monk; but there
is no record that it was preached as helping the soul forward,
or that this subject was ever discussed.
Still, there is a record to the effect that, on a certain occasion,
" a n eminent exponent (of asceticism) 2 was relieved of his
doubts concerning the transubstantiation of the bread, and
converted to the orthodox belief of the church catholic"; a n d
he found salvation by this means, for otherwise all his efforts
"would have been in v a i n " . When the priest took the bread
in his hands, the monk saw a child; then the angel of the Lord
came down from heaven with a sword, slew the child, and let
its blood r u n into the chalice. T h e n again, when the priest
broke the bread into small pieces, the angel hewed the child
into small pieces also. T h e n , when the bloody flesh was
offered as communion to the doubter, he drew back with a
shudder; but the incident taught him why God gave the
sacrament to our use, not in its true form, but in a form
acceptable to h u m a n sensibility. 3
T h a t was a graphic way of presenting the orthodox teaching
about the real n a t u r e of the events at the ceremony of the
sacrifice of the eucharist; that, and no more. All the efforts
of the monk "would have been in v a i n " if he had persisted
in a wrong opinion about the rite; he would have been nothing
more nor less t h a n a heretic.
O n the other h a n d , not a word is said, a n d no aspect of the
problem is discussed, showing in w h a t way the sacrifice
1 2
Apophth. Alonios, i, p. 133 See remarks by Reitzenstein, Studie, :2g, n. 2
3
Apophth. Daniel, 7, p. I56f.
 VALIDITY OF CHURCH RITES I59

benefited him, or why he stood in need of it. Light was

thrown on the question, rather, by those records which
describe the perfect ascetics as living for long periods, if not
permanently, on the eucharist alone, to the exclusion of all
earthly foods. In a case like this, the elements of the communion
were obviously the bread of heaven belonging to the next
world, and used as food by the angels themselves; in other
words, it was the means of subsistence granted to believers
while still on earth; their foretaste of eternal life. It must be
said, however, that other accounts are of more frequent occur-
rence, which say that miraculous bread from heaven was given
to the "perfect", apart from sharing in the eucharist. 1 O n one
occasion, this led a presumptuous ascetic, w h o had been
blinded by demons, to declare that he had seen Jesus in vision,
and that he therefore required the sacrament no more. As it
stood, that was a quite logical consequence of monastic theory
on its radical side, 2 but it was out of harmony with the monks'
loyalty to the church in practice. T h e Fathers therefore went
as far as to declare the man insane; they put him in irons for
a year, till he regained his right senses.
T h e fact that communion was a necessity, and this without
qualification, for every Christian, was driven home by Saint
Makarius of Egypt in a sermon after he had restored to human
form a woman who had been changed into a mare: the only
reason w h y the magician had been able to get her into his
power, was because she had not gone to sacrament for five
weeks. 3 Father Apollos of Hermupolis used to teach that a
good monk should take sacrament daily if possible. 4 Here is
the explanation w h y priests were a matter of necessity even
in the cloisters and in colonies of monks; and the priests in
turn offered a possible means which bishops might use, with
caution and tact, for establishing relations with various groups
of ascetics. T h e first result was a really friendly relationship,
characterized by mutual respect and politeness. 6 T h e next
was that the monks themselves gradually came to enter the
ranks of the clergy; this development was against the wishes
1 Hist. mon. 15, 2 1, 47 2, 9 8, 5. 3 8 - 4 1 1 1 , 6. 21 12, 5 13, 3. 4. 14
Hist. Laus. 18. 26
2 cf. also Apophth. Motios, 1, p. 300 3 Hist. Laus. 25, p. 80, 10 17, p. 46, 7
4 Hist. mon. 8, 56 6 Pachom. vita, 29. 30. 8 1 . I43f. Hist. Laus. 16
i6o 6. MONASTICISM

of Pachomius, but rendered inevitable by the practical require-

ments of the situation. A monk held in high esteem in the
district would be consecrated as priest, and therefore recognized
by the church as a legitimate person to offer the sacrifice of
the eucharist. 1 It then came to be regarded as unwarrantable
arrogance for a monk to assert 2 that "during last night he had
been consecrated presbyter by Christ"—yet, by so doing, he
was only re-asserting the ancient claim of the "pneumatics"
as distinct from the "regular" clergy. As a consequence of the
developments which had taken place in the monasteries by
about A.D. 400, public opinion among the monks was adverse
to recognizing these special forms of the operation of the
Holy Spirit. In certain circumstances, monks might be conse-
crated as bishops; 3 but since installation carried with it the
obligation to abandon the life of a hermit, and enter busily
into worldly affairs, the monks in every case made their
resistance quite outwardly and markedly evident: several
cases are on record where very determined ascetics would have
an ear cut off in order to evade consecration, 4 for a mutilated
person could not be ordained.
*

Miracle is a feature of monasticism to the present day.

The signs and wonders performed by the men of God in the
Old Testament, the "mighty works" of Christ and the apostles,
all had their counterparts performed by the "pneumatics"
of the early church; indeed greater miracles were worked by
them. The words of John 14: 12, "Verily, verily, I say unto
you, he that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do
also; and greater works than these shall he do", were read
with a very definite interpretation. The "proof of the spirit
and of power" was furnished ever and again, in a variety of
different ways, by men and women who had been blessed
with a special endowment by God. The more the church
adopted and conformed to the kind of Christianity which
melted imperceptibly into the life of the people at large, the
more did it come about that unusual and unaccustomed
1
e.g. Hist. mon. 14. 18. 20. 32 Hist. Laus. 7 (p. 26, 9) 9 (p. 3 1 , 1 1 ) . 44. 45.
47. 48. 49. 58 Apophth. Matoe, 9, p. 292
2 3
Hist. Laus. 53 Apophth. Appho, p. 1 3 3 Nitra, p. 3 1 2
4
Hist. Laus. 1 1 , p. 8 Hist. mon. 26, 2
 MIRACLES 161

features found their niches a m o n g anchorites, fanatics, schis-

matics, and finally the monastics. Here was a m o v e m e n t whose
members felt themselves quite specially called upon to cultivate
and produce men of the spirit in the full sense of the term. A n d
w h a t testimony other than that of miracles could be more con-
vincing of the fact that the desired goal h a d indeed been reached?
It is therefore natural that miracle a n d monasticism should
h a v e been inseparably conjoined from the start, and that
miracle-stories were an essential element in every record o f
monastic life. T h e b i o g r a p h y of A n t o n y written b y Athanasius
is in fact the classic e x a m p l e of this sort of element. It should
b e r e m e m b e r e d , of course, that miracles and miracle-workers
were b y no means confined to the Christian m o v e m e n t ;
rather, they were frequent p h e n o m e n a in every period of the
ancient world. T h e y seemed almost to sprout from the g r o u n d
afresh daily in each and every nature-religion. It follows
therefore that no one in the age of decline in the ancient world
saw a n y t h i n g r e m a r k a b l e and strange in the claims of a m o n k
to w o r k miracles; such a monk would simply be reckoned to
b e l o n g to the genus, " m e n of G o d " , the theioi andres, a genus
w h i c h h a d been very familiar for centuries as disposing of super-
h u m a n powers. A n d this is the reason, too, w h y ancient miracle-
stories, w i d e l y recounted in various p o p u l a r traditions, were
ascribed, quite naively, to holy men of the Christian strain. 1
W e h a v e already given some attention to their visions and
predictions, and also to their prophet-like gifts of telepathy.
But in quite an outstanding degree, a great ascetic was f a m e d
as a helper in time of stress, i.e. as physician; and people w o u l d
m a k e a pilgrimage to him, a n d be cured of lameness a n d
blindness, of sores and snake-bites, of fevers and fits; people in
a n y w a y possessed by demons w o u l d be set free from torment
at a w o r d spoken b y the holy m a n . In rare cases, even death
itself was proved to be not invincible. 2 T h e very animals
readily o b e y e d such a monk's c o m m a n d s ; they w o u l d avoid
t r a m p l i n g on the herbs he had planted out, and a b a n d o n the
places he h a d forbidden to them. Wild asses, snakes, a n d

1 cf. L u d w i g Bieler, Thews Aner, Das Bild des "goitl. Menschen" in Spalantike und
Friihchristentum, 1935-36
- Hist. mon. 11, 8-9. 13-14. 15-17
L
 6. MONASTICISM

crocodiles, would be called on to render useful services as

messengers or guards; beasts of prey were killed at a word.
There was even a case where a cunning hyena had brought
its blind offspring to a holy man, who healed it; whereon the
grateful dam brought a goatskin to her kind benefactor. 1
A further case was that of a holy man who might inflict
miraculous punishments: an angry word on his part might
cause an earthquake, kill men or toothsome animals; 2 and a
milder form of the exercise of the same powers consisted of
making a wrong-doer stand stock-still for hours on end rooted
to the spot; stolen cabbage would not cook when boiled. 3
In a time of famine, one such man of God was able to
renew the contents of three large bread-baskets, and use them
to feed the 500 monks of his own monastery and also the
inhabitants of the neighbouring village; the narrator of this
incident declares that, at the end of the meal, he had himself
seen the baskets carried out already full again. 4 From this
point it is but a short stage to the holy man who made corn
grow out of the sand of the desert; 5 and again, to him who
walked on the water, flew through the air, and ordered the
setting sun to stand still long enough for him to reach the end
of his journey. 0 It would be possible to recount many more
legends of miracles that were performed in this magic garden,
but other matters call for our attention; the inquiring student
is referred to the documentary sources themselves, which give
much space to this kind of record. 7 We must now return to
church history properly so called.
*
1
Hist. mon. 1 3 , 5. 6 - 9 ; 9, 5 - 7 . 8 - 1 0 Hyenas: 28, 1 5 - 1 6
2 3
ibid. 8, 1 0 - 1 3 36-37 1 3 , 5 ibid. 6, 2 Hist. Laus. 31 Hist. mon. it, 32
4
ibid. 8, 44-47
6
ibid, u , 25-27 cf. also Das apokryphe Evangelienfragmenl, ^jVW, 34 (1935), 290
8
ibid. 1 1 , 18. 1 0 - 1 2
7
Athan. vita Antonii, German translation by Hans Mertel in the Bibliothek
der Kirchenvater, vol. 3 1 , 1 9 1 7 (Athanasius, vol. 2). The vita Pachomi is in the
appendix of the same vol. Athanasius's Vita Antonii is translated into English in
The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 2nd Series, vol. iv (1892), ed. A. Robertson.
The Historia Lausiaca is translated into German by S. Krottenthaler (Bibl. d.
Kirchenv. vol. 5 ( 1 9 1 2 ) , where it follows the Greek liturgies) and is succeeded by
the Life of S. Melania. W. K . L . Clarke has published an English translation, with
notes, of The Lausiac History of Palladius (S.P.C.K. 1918).
T h e East-Syrian Lives of the Monks according to Thomas of Marga is translated into
German by Oskar Braun (Bibl. d. Kirchenv. vol. 22, 1915) following the account
of the Persian martyrs.
For later centuries see Lietzmann, Byzantinische Legenden, 1 9 1 1
 SPREAD OF THE MOVEMENT 163

(4) The Geographical Distribution of Monasticism

Asceticism had come to be practised in many localities
within the length and breadth of the territory that could be
called Christian; and, in isolated cases, a form of monasticism
might have been found which had a "prehistoric" character;
nevertheless there can be no doubt of the Egyptian origin or
inspiration of those forms of monasticism which were to prove
really viable, and which had grown up under the general
aegis of the church. It must be conceded, however, that even
in Egypt itself it was possible to find elements originating
elsewhere. The custom whereby a new-comer was put under
the instruction of an older and trusted exponent, thus constitu-
ting the nucleus of an arrangement which gave shape to the
ascetic kind of life, was a custom which came to Egypt in the
first instance from Syria. In other words, it derives from an
alien and "prehistoric" tradition of monasticism; and this
origin is witnessed by the fact that all spiritual Fathers and
Mothers, and accordingly all heads of cloisters of both sexes,
were addressed with the Syriac titles of " A b b a " , father, and
" A m m a " , mother, 1 and not with Egyptian names. The title
of Abbot for the superior of a cloister was adapted from this
nomenclature; its use spread from Egypt to every other
country, and is customary to the present day. This isolated
exception does not weaken the general principle.
Jerome traced back the origin of ascetic practice in Palestine
to Hilarion of Thabata near Gaza. But the biography which
Jerome wrote as a tribute to this holy man is interpolated
with romantic and fabulous stories to such an extent that it is
difficult to sort out those elements which can be safely used
for historical purposes.2 It would seem that Hilarion had been
a disciple of Antony, that he afterwards settled near Gaza,
and that in course of time he gathered a colony of eremites
round him; he also laboured as a miracle-worker and an
evangelist. Sozomen says3 that his own grandfather's family
were converted to Christianity by him. During the reign of
Julian, he left the place where he had been settled, and took
1 Amma, cf. Hist. Laus. 34, p. 99, 17 59, p. 153, 8 in the apparatus criticus
2 Sozom. 3, 14. 26-28 and 5, 10, 1 - 4 based on Jerome 3 ibid. 5, 15, l^i.
164 6. M O N A S T I C I S M

to a life of wandering. H e went to Egypt, thence to Sicily,

and then to Dalmatia; in the end, he made his way to Cyprus,
where he died in A.D. 371 at about eighty years of age. 1 A
few monastic colonies close to G a z a traced their foundation
to him. 2
Epiphanius, who counts among the Fathers of the church,
had been one of the Palestinian ascetics of this early period.
H e was born in a village near Eleutheropolis (Beth-Djibrin,
south-west of Jerusalem), spent a long time among the monks
of Egypt, and afterwards, in his twenties, returned to his
native place. Here he continued to practise his ascetic habits,
until he was chosen, in A.D. 367, to be bishop of Salamis in
Cyprus. His new office gave him the opportunity of fostering
monasticism in the island. 3
When Aetheria, with her inquiring mind, travelled to and
in Palestine about A.D. 390, 4 she found hermits on mo
Nebo and in the Hauran, besides a few here and then
places connected with the Biblical tradition. Monks usee
come in troops to attend the services in Jerusalem. It is (
to understand how places in Palestine which had notewoi
mention in the records of Holy Scripture would exercis
magnetic attraction on settlers of the ascetic type; 5 ther
something to be said for the hypothesis that it was from am
these anchorites that the monks originated who were res]
sible for founding the monasteries on Mount Sinai, wl
God had spoken with Moses. When Aetheria visited
mountain-group, she found monastic settlements everyw]
on the hills and in the valleys. Palladius knew monks
lived near to Jericho, and on the banks of the Jordan.'
the environs of Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives becan,
"mount of hermits" at an early date. A group who toe
special interest in theology went to live there in the sev<
decade of the fourth century. 7
1 J e r o m e , vita Hilar. 44 cf. the statement in c. 2 5 : in A.D. 356, he was 65
of age.
- S o z o m . 5, 32, 5 - 8 3 ibid. 5, 32, 3 - 5 E p i p h a n . Ancoratus praef. p. I,
4 vide V o l . 3, 303 A e t h . , peregr. 10, 9 13, 1 3, i f f .
5 Lists of cloisters in Palestine are g i v e n in C a b r o l , Diet. 2, 3 1 6 5 - 7 5
6 Hist. Laus. 4 8 - 5 1
7 Basil, ep. 258, 2 259 cf. Ä t h a n , ep. ad Palladium, t. 1, p. 957 Hist.
prol. 2
 PALESTINE AND SYRIA 165

M u c h about the same time, at the end of A.D. 373 or in the

spring of A.D. 374, a lady of the n a m e of Melanius, 1 an
incredibly wealthy m e m b e r of the aristocracy of R o m e itself,
came to Palestine after having completed a pilgrimage through
the cloisters and monastic settlements of E g y p t . She founded
a cloister in Jerusalem for sixty nuns, and acted as its head
for 27 years; her spiritual adviser was Rufinus, w h o was at
that time on terms of intimate friendship with Jerome. So
also Palladius belonged to her circle as a y o u n g m a n , the
very person w h o afterwards wrote the Historia Lausiaca. H e
lived on the M o u n t of Olives as an accepted novice in the
eighties of that century. It seems, too, that J e r o m e was v e r y
successful in proclaiming to the eminent ladies in R o m e the
advantages of the ascetic life; and when, for various reasons,
he left the capital in A u g u s t A.D. 385 in order to go to the
H o l y L a n d , he was followed b y a wealthy lady, Paula, and
her daughter, Eustochium. H e accompanied both ladies on
the customary j o u r n e y through E g y p t , and returned with them
in the summer of A.D. 386 to Palestine, indeed to Bethlehem.
In the year 389, P a u l a built there three nunneries, and also a
monastery in w h i c h J e r o m e lived till his death in A.D. 420.
T h e r e was at least one other monastery in Bethlehem, that in
which Cassian w h e n a y o u t h received his first training as a
monk. 2
In the parts of Syria w h i c h bordered on Palestine, asceticism
was regarded with favour at an early date, particularly the
practice of celibacy. T a t i a n , the " a p o l o g i s t " , a disciple of
Justin M a r t y r in the second century, was known to be a
supporter of that kind of self-discipline, 3 and was regarded b y
the orthodox of a later date as the founder of the sect of the
" E n c r a t i t e s " . H o w strong an influence he exercised can be
j u d g e d from the fact that his Diatessaron, a harmony of the
four canonical gospels, remained in use well into the fifth
century as the official book of the gospels in the Syrian church.
H e himself was an instance illustrating the truth that the
1 T h i s apparently masculine form was used also for women, cf. E. Diehl,
Rhein. Mus. 62 (1907), 415 Pauly-W., Series II, V o l . 2, 2450, etc. T h e name
Melania or Melanium is an adjustment to the customary forms, cf. E. Schwartz,
ZNW, 36 (1937), 165, n. 7
2 E. Schwartz, 38 (1939), 3 3 Irenaeus, i , 28, 1 (1, 220, Harvey)
 6. MONASTICISM

non-Greek element of an eastern people was characterized

by an eastern type of asceticism, very different from the forms
that we have been describing hitherto; and this on account of
its fanaticism, its fundamental one-sidedness, its tendency to
extremism, and its exaggerated fondness for miracles. T h e
church itself had often repudiated the special peculiarities of
Syria, and excommunicated their protagonists as schismatics;
but much remained in her bosom and was tolerated; nay, in
the course of time, it was practised with increasing devotion.
Aphrahat was an ascetic who came from Persia about
A.D. 340; he was a popular evangelist, and delivered a number
of addresses in Syriac. T h e addresses reflect the kind of
Christianity which was current at that time in and around
Mosul, 1 and also throw a light on the kind of asceticism that
was practised there. It would appear that Christianity was
regarded as essentially a perpetual warfare between the
believer and the devil. T o carry on this warfare with full
success, it was indispensable to be an ascetic, a hermit, a
devotee; and as such to have repudiated the world in general,
and marriage in particular; for woman was Satan's instrument. 2
A n y person who decided to adopt the Christian life should
seriously examine himself again before accepting baptism; if
he traced any inclination for marriage, he should marry
before being baptized. But anyone who did come to be bap-
tized, by that very act took his place in the ranks making war
against Satan. T h e water used in baptism put the test, like
the brook at which, according to Judges 7: 4-7, Gideon was
able to separate the true warriors from the weaklings. It was
therefore the duty of priests, " w h e n baptism had been adminis-
tered, to look and see which were the strong and which the
weak. T h e y were to encourage the strong, but publicly to
turn the frail and the weak away from the battle lest, when
overtaken by war, they threw down their weapons, took to
flight, and relapsed." 3
T h e purport of such a passage is unmistakable: a persoft
who was fully a Christian and who had received the seal of
baptism, ought to become an ascetic; any dalliance in the
society of one's fellows, or in marriage, was regarded as weak-
1 vide V o l . II, 266f. 2 Aphrahat, hom. 6, 4. 6. 7, p. 26off. 3 ibid. 7, 21, p. 348
 THE AUDIANS 167

ness; and any backsliding from t h e life of a hermit into con-

formity to the ways of the w o r l d w a s felt to be treason to the
flag. A t the same time, t h e words o f the preacher show plainly
t h a t to make celibacy or anchoritism a definite sine qua non,
w a s no longer practicable in e v e r y case of candidates for
baptism; and he had n o alternative to c o m i n g to terms w i t h
t h e " w e a k " Christians w h o constituted the churches. B u t he
preserved the principle intact; it was very m u c h in the
atmosphere in this corner of the w o r l d , and was m a i n t a i n e d
l o n g afterwards b y the M a r c i o n i t e a n d the gnostic sects; it
also lent a tinge to M a n i c h e a n ethics.
A b o u t the time w h e n the e c u m e n i c a l council was b e i n g held
in N i c e a , a deacon n a m e d A u d i w a s at work near Edessa
( U r f a ) , and afforded a typical e x a m p l e of those w h o criticized
the church and its clergy. H e was felt to be a source o f irrita-
tion, a n d attempts were m a d e to get rid of h i m ; but for a long
time in vain. A s a result o f violence a n d ill-treatment, he was
at length brought to the point of b r e a k i n g w i t h the c h u r c h ,
a n d large numbers of his sympathizers broke a w a y w i t h him.
T h e y founded their o w n churches, either in the desert or in
the city-suburbs; they housed themselves in monastic establish-
ments, and earned their subsistence b y m a n u a l labour. T h e
surviving information is too little to indicate precisely in w h a t
w a y they adopted ascetic practices; b u t there is e n o u g h to
show clearly that they w e r e loyal to the rigorousness o f life
a n d to the idea of estrangement f r o m the w o r l d ; these features
w e r e characteristic of the early Christian attitude, as opposed
to the changes through w h i c h the c h u r c h was passing. T h e i r
leader, A u d i , was installed as bishop; and in the course of
time, they built u p an o r g a n i z a t i o n h e a d e d b y several bishops,
a n d stretching from the T a u r u s mountains and the desert
n e a r A n t i o c h in the north, t h r o u g h Palestine, to A r a b i a a n d
M e s o p o t a m i a in the south and east. H a v i n g suffered injury
to this extent, the church, helped by the emperor, was success-
ful in exiling A u d i to " S c y t h i a " . T h i s strategy only m e a n t ,
h o w e v e r , that the attraction exercised b y Christian asceticism
b e g a n to m a k e itself felt a m o n g the Goths, and with consider-
a b l e success. W h e n A t h a n a r i c h persecuted the Christians in
A.D. 372, m a n y members of the G o t h i c churches o f A u d i ' s
 6. MONASTICISM

communion crossed over the frontier into R o m a n territory. 1

These were forms of asceticism which maintained closer or
looser bonds with the world, either by work done, or by
social intercourse. But there were other forms, radical in
character, which can be discerned on the Syrian landscape
about the year 300, and which about that time were system-
atically established by a man who had his own ideas and went
his own way. 2 His key to the problem of salvation was a
complete break with the world: a denial of literally every form
of labour or activity that belonged to this Earth. One's whole
confidence must be placed in the help of God, who would stir
the pity of kindly persons, and through them give what was
necessary to the hungry and shivering, "perfectly" holy men.
This particular movement began to be of historical importance
about A.D. 370, and the adherents were known by the Syriac
word, "Messalians", 3 or Men of Prayer; for they had aban-
doned the world and all their possessions in order to give
themselves entirely to a life of prayer, and this to such a
complete extent that they would have nothing to do even
with the pious practice of fasting. For the same reason, they
did no work, but gathered by begging what they needed to
live on; these principles meant that they did not resort to the
desert, but remained in contact with the rest of the com-
munity. They had no homes of their own, and throughout
the night both men and women might be seen asleep on the
streets; in veritable fact, they had nothing on which to lay
their heads. T h e y believed that they lived in the world of the
Risen Lord and were full of His spirit; they believed they were
pneumatics in the same sense of the term as in the first church.
Originating in Mesopotamia, the movement spread to the
coastal region near Antioch and thence to Asia Minor, where
it came into contact with similar opinions. Amphilochius,
bishop of Iconium, sprang into the fray which had already
been begun there by Basil, 4 carried the battle further, and at
a synod in Side 3 on the gulf of Adalia, stigmatized the Messa-
lians' practices as heresy; Flavian of Antioch became his ally.

1 E p i p h a n . haer. 70, 1, 1 - 5 ; 14, 5 - 1 5 , 5 further sources on p. 232

2 vide infra, i83ff. 3 E p i p h a n . haer. 80, 3, 2ff., p. 487^ cf. note on p. 485
* Basil, ep. 188. 198 6 Proceedings in Photius, Bibl. cod. 52
 ASCETIC EXTREMES 169

A short time earlier, i.e. in the years 381-83, imperial edicts

had been p r o m u l g a t e d 1 against the sects w h i c h Basil was
attempting to suppress, calling t h e m "strait-laced, world-
repudiating, b a g - c a r r i e r s " ; classing and prohibiting them along
with the M a n i c h e a n s . A m p h i l o c h i u s was anxious that the
steps he had taken, should not only drive the Messalians out
o f the fellowship of the c h u r c h , but also that they should be
b r a n d e d as heretics, and therefore as dangerous to the state.
H e h o p e d to b e able b y these means to keep the c h u r c h free
from dubious pneumatics of this kind, a p r o b l e m w h i c h , as
w e shall show a little later on, was severe in Asia M i n o r also.
I n S y r i a the p r o b l e m was quite insoluble; this was because the
soil was so prolific of holy men w h o were marvelled at, that
the c h u r c h capitulated a n d m a d e her peace w i t h them.
T h e o d o r e t , bishop of C y r r h u s , a small city in a wild district
b e t w e e n A n t i o c h and the Euphrates, wrote a book, c. A.D. 440,
on the ascetics o f northern Syria. H e wrote w i t h reverence and
a w e of hermits w h o loaded themselves w i t h chains, wore iron
belts a n d collars, lived in cisterns, restricted their range of
m o v e m e n t b y h a v i n g only a p a t h the breadth of a span b y
w h i c h to go to church, or even h a d themselves walled up.
Disciples g a t h e r e d round the cells of the masters, and colonies
of hermits c a m e into being. A t the same time, the monastic
life m a d e great h e a d w a y , a n d it was not rare for cloisters of
the same f o u n d a t i o n to d i v i d e on the basis of l a n g u a g e into
S y r i a n a n d G r e e k branches. T h e descriptions given b y T h e o -
doret m a k e it clear that, b y the end of the fourth century,
the monastic life was a h i g h l y developed institution in Syria,
and full of vitality. 2
A b o u t the y e a r 375, J e r o m e went as a disciple a m o n g the
ascetics in the desert near A l e p p o ; it will be remembered that,
on an earlier p a g e , 3 w e described the hermits w h o lived in
the mountains near A n t i o c h , and discussed the important
part p l a y e d b y t h e m in A.D. 387.
Monasteries multiplied to an increasing extent in the fifth
1 Corf. Thtod. 16, 5, 7. 9. 10. 11 a n d discussion b y K . H o l l , Amphiloch. v.
Iconium, 36f.
2 T h e o d o r e t , hist, religr. irons, c a p . 4. 10. 11. 15 cisterns, 13 short j o u r n e y s , 4
w a l l i n g u p , 18. 19 G r e e k and S y r i a n cloisters, 4. 5
3 vide supra, 118
170 6. MONASTICISM

century, without putting an end to the practice of anchoritism;

rather, its forms became even more remarkable and excessive.
The masses of iron with which the strange holy men loaded
themselves grew to be ever greater, until they could only walk
bending under the weight. Baradatos walled himself up in the
first instance, but later went to live in a crate of laths that was
open alike to the sun and the rain; it was also too small for
his body, and forced him into a bent posture. But he was
outdone by Thalelaios, who made himself a cylinder of two
wheels joined by laths, in which he lived with his knees drawn
right up—he must have sat like a white mouse in its exercise-
wheel—and then he had the whole apparatus hung from a
structure like a gallows. Others chose the tops of mountains,
where they were exposed to all the discomforts of wind and
weather; sometimes the place where they came to a halt was
surrounded by a wall to protect them from unwelcome
visitors.1 John had an almond-tree cut down because it gave
him shade.
Symeon Stylites went through a whole gamut of mounting
types of asceticism. By birth he belonged to a family of pros-
perous farmers. Before he was twenty, he began to wear a
cord round his body which chafed his skin till the blood ran;
he had himself "buried" for two years; he beat off sleep by
continually standing. In February, A.D. 412, he abandoned
the monastery where he had lived to that date, and removed
to the mountain village of Telnechin between Antioch and
Aleppo. He lived there in a cell, but had himself walled up
for the forty days of Lent, a procedure which he repeated on
two occasions. Later, he climbed a neighbouring mountain,
and lived within an encircling wall under the open sky, at
first fettered to the place by an iron chain. Soon afterwards,
he climbed on a rock about three feet high, whose top gave
him not more than two square yards for movement. He spent
five years on this pedestal, then adopted higher and yet
higher rocks, until he took to pillars properly so-called. In
the end, he reached the goal of his desires on the top of a pillar
about 70 feet high, where he stood for thirty years, till his
1 T h e o d o r e t , hist, relig.: i r o n , 2 1 . 23. 29 B a r a d a t o s , 27 T h a l e l a i o s , 28 moun-
tain tops, a i . 22. 23. 29
 PILLAR SAINTS 171

death on September 2, A.D. 459. The platform on the top was

at most only four square yards, and there he lived in continuous
prayer accompanied by a rhythmical falling on his knees, and
bowing his forehead to the platform. Theodoret gazed with
astonishment at this method of practising prayer, and counted
1,244 obeisances before he gave up counting. 1
The pillar-saints represented the extreme of localized
ascetics, as is made clear by the history of the whole move-
ment. It was not a case of copying pagan practices to be found
in Syria, as was formerly sometimes thought. Its unique
character was appreciated by public opinion, and was regarded
as the greatest ornament of eastern anchoritism. 2 A generation
after the death of Symeon Stylites, a great building, comprising
a church and a cloister, was erected round the pillar, a building
which was one of the most splendid examples of architecture
in the declining age of antiquity. 3 T h e church catholic was
proud of the holy man.
Symeon embodied the Syrian ideal of a hermit in the highest
degree. His opposite number among those that lived in cloisters
was Alexander, the founder of the Acoimetai,* i.e. the unsleep-
ing. By birth, he belonged to one of the leading families of the
Prince Islands, received a good Greek education in the capital,
but at an early age, entered a Syrian monastery whose fame
had attracted him. Yet the monastic life did not satisfy his
longing for a perfect and literal fulfilment of the requirements
set down in the gospels; and he refused to admit that it was
true, as was commonly said, that fulfilment was impossible.
He abandoned the monastery, and went to live in the desert
near the Euphrates as a typical Syrian hermit. Throughout
the day, he stood on a hill; and crept at night into an earthen-
ware vessel let into the ground. He followed that mode of life
for twenty years, during which time a monastic community
gathered round him, nearly 400 obedient disciples all told,
comprising Romans and Greeks, Syrians and Egyptians. He
divided them into choirs for singing psalms, adopting the
1 L i e t z m a n n , Das Leben d. hi. Symeon Stylites (Texte u. U n t . 32, 4, 1908), 238-45
2 H . D e l a h a y c , Les Saints Stylites, 1923
3 C a b r o l , Diet. 1, 238off. for further details. O . Krencker, Die Wallfahrtskirche
des Simeon St., Preuss. A k a d . A b h . 1938, No. 4
* Vie d'Alexandre I'Acimite, ed. Stoop, in Patrol, orientalis, T o m e 6 1 , fasc. 5 ( 1 9 1 1 )
172 6. MONASTICISM
1
seven canonical hours, which he soon doubled in number.
By ceaselessly striving to perfect the liturgy on the model of
the Bible, he came at last to the idea of imitating on earth
the praises which the angels sang to God without intermission.
He therefore laid it on the monks to sing the Gloria each day
seventy times seven, and to kneel each time. Hence there were
490 occasions in the twenty-four hours, or roughly twenty
Glorias per hour. T h e consequence was that his monastery
resounded every three minutes, day and night, with the angels'
song of " G l o r y be to God in the highest, peace on earth, and
goodwill to men". T h e choirs of monks sang in rotation but
the chorus continued, always the same, without pause, breaking
out afresh every three minutes—for centuries.
At length, Alexander was drawn by the idea of going on
pilgrimage, as was common among ascetics. He selected a
number of his devotees as companions, and made his way
through the desert from fort to fort along the Persian frontier; 2
he approached Palmyra, but the city refused entrance to the
singing monks; he arrived in A.D. 420 at Antioch, where the
reception was not very friendly. He and his band settled down
in the site of some ancient warm baths, and began to take part
in the public life of the city, both helpfully and with criticism
of a more negative kind, until expelled by the military authori-
ties. After experiences of all sorts he arrived finally at Constan-
tinople; 3 by this time, he had attracted 300 monks from other
monasteries, and enlisted them in his choirs; and, of course,
they sang the Gloria, by turns, ceaselessly. Unfortunately, he
was again opposed, being now charged with heresy—the
similarity with the Messalians was quite unmistakable—and
he and his followers ended with being ill-used and expelled.
They found refuge in the monastery of Hypatius on the west side
of the Bosphorus, 4 until the empress intervened in their defence,
and they were able to establish a monastery on the Asiatic shore
of the Bosphorus. But in the course of time, the strange phenom-
enon was successful even in the capital, and the Akoimete
Monastery played an important part in Byzantine history.

1 2
vide Vol. 3, 301 vide Vol. 3, 30
3
The authority for this period is Callinici, vita S. Hypatii, ed Bonn. 82-84
* vide infra, 1741".
 BASIL THE GREAT 173
Mention has already been made 1 of the fact that there were
various currents of radical asceticism also in central Asia
Minor. Eustathius, who at a later date became bishop of
Sebaste (Siwas), is said to have been the head of a movement
of this kind, which was scattered through Lesser Armenia,
Pontus, and Paphlagonia. His adherents laboured enthusias-
tically in the cause of repudiating the world, and declared
all married persons and all possessing property as incapable of
eternal salvation. T h e y held aloof from the church, regarding
it as a secularized institution; they despised its services and
customs; and, exercising the privilege of pneumatics, they
conducted their own services. T h e y wore a special habit to
distinguish themselves alike from the general public and the
clergy; many women wore male garments and cut their hair
short, because in the K i n g d o m of G o d there was no difference
between the sexes. A synod was held in the early forties (343?)
in G a n g r a (Kiangri) of Paphlagonia, 2 when the church put up
resistance, but apparently without any real effect. Eustathius,
who had an imposing personality, remained undisturbed; he
later had a powerful influence on Basil as a young man. 3
Basil was to become the leading organizer of monasticism
and the chief instructor of the recluses, first in Asia Minor and
then, in the course of time, in the whole of the Greek church.
After completing his studies in Athens he travelled through
Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Mesopotamia, in order to study
monasticism at the fountain-head. 4 A b o u t A.D. 360, he founded
for himself a monastery 6 where he was joined by friends of a
similar turn of mind, including in particular Gregory of
Nazianzus. He built it close to his family property at Annesoi,
where his mother and sister had already established a cloistered
community among the women of their household. H e drew
up an order for the manner of life in his monastery. 6 His
order started from the psychological standpoint, and laid
d o w n rules in the first instance for the inner life, and then for
1 vide supra, iGfif.
2 O u r a u t h o r i t i e s a r c their m i n u t e s a n d c a n o n s ( L a u c h e r t , 7 9 - 8 3 Turner,
Afonum. 2 ( 1 6 4 - 2 1 4 ) t o g e t h e r w i t h S o z o m . 3, 14, 3 1 - 3 6 4, 24, g = S o c r . 2, 43, 3-7
3 Basil, ep. 223, 3. 5 cf. 99, 3 2 1 2 , 2 4 ibid. ep. 223, 2

6 G r e g . X y s s . vita Macrinae, M i g n e g r . 46, g 6 5 b - c Basil, ep. 3, 2 2 2 3 , 5 Greg.

N a z . ep. 6 or. 43, 61 cf. T i l l e m o n t , 9, 3 1 . 43fT.
6 B a s i l , ep. 2 cf. ep. 22
174 6. MONASTICISM

the outer life, which depended on it but was on a lower plane;

nor did he stop there, but proceeded to throw spiritual light
on the problems of monasticism in every direction. In the
sequel we shall discuss further the classical writings of this
great teacher of the church. He had a personality full of ele-
mental power for giving practical effect to his ideas, and he
had set himself the task of spreading that form of monastic
organization which had penetrated everywhere in the south;
at the same time, of course, he impressed on it the stamp of
his own spiritual quality.
Eustathius and his followers had brought a movement to
birth which led to the formation of communities in certain
towns and villages of Lesser Armenia, Cappadocia, and
Pontus. Small settlements consisting of two or three members
also made their appearance, but nothing was produced by
way of anchoritism properly so-called; nor of cloisters to any
great extent.1 Basil took another direction: he organized his
friends in Pontus and later, a monastic community of the
Egyptian type in Caesarea, and developed them into a
monastery; he travelled to and fro in Pontus with a view to
furthering his ideas.2 The vigorous opposition which he met
in so doing, an opposition based on dislike for any kind of
innovation, is recorded in a surviving letter (No. 207) which
he wrote to the community at Neocaesarea (Niksar).
For a long time Constantinople refused to tolerate monasti-
cism, and this must be said in spite of all legends to the contrary.
In A.D. 378, the year when Valens died, there was in that city
still "not a single sign of a monk"; 3 and it was only in A.D. 381
that an ascetic of the Syrian desert, Isaac by name, who had
become famous, came to a halt there at the request of two
persons at the royal court; he made a hermitage in the suburbs
outside the city wall. 4 His cell soon grew to be the centre of a
monastic settlement into which Dalmatius, an officer of the
Guards, entered in A.D. 383. It would appear to have been
1
Sozom. 6, 34, 7 Cassian, Coll. 18, 7, 8 cf. the "brotherhoods" of Eustathius
mentioned in Basil, ep. 223, 5
2
Rutin. H.E. 1 1 , 9, p. 1015, 4, Schwartz Sozom. 6, 17, 4
3
Vita S. Isaaci, Acta Sanctorum, May 7, p. 2 5 o e = 2 5 7 a
4
In Psamathia: discussion by A . M. Schneider, Byzanz (1936) pp. 85 and 3,
also his maps, B 8-9 Records re the cloister in Callinici Vita S. Hypatii, ed.
Bonn, p. X H I f f .
 CONSTANTINOPLE 175
this man that founded the monastery proper, and succeeded
after Isaac's death to the leadership: the monastery being
thenceforward known by his name. Following this example,
and apparently under the same man's oversight, other cloisters
were established afterwards in Constantinople itself.1
The second monastery of later renown was founded near
the capital by Rufinus, the imperial chancellor; the site was
three miles east of Chalcedon (Kadikoi) close to the beautiful
Church of the Apostles which he had built. He induced some
Egyptian monks to inhabit his foundation; but after he had
died and had been buried in the Church of the Apostles, the
Egyptians returned home, and the monastery fell vacant.
Then it was that Hypatius, a native of Phrygia, and his
adherents took up residence there; he had previously lived in
a monastery of which Jonas (later canonized) was the head,
and which lay in the suburbs of Constantinople on the
Thracian side. This time, the occupation of the monastery
proved to be permanent, and the leader was soon held in
high honour among both the adherents of the church and the
general community of the city. 2
Attention has already been drawn 3 to the fact that Hypatius
gave asylum to Alexander, the pilgrim monk, from the hatred
of his enemies; and made it possible for him to found an
Akoimete monastery "on a lonely site" fifteen miles from
Kadikoi. The name of the place was Gomon, and it lay on
the coast at the junction of the Black Sea and the Bosphorus. 4
John, who was Alexander's successor, transferred the site of
the monastery, in the decade beginning with A.D. 430, to
Irenaion (Tshibukle), half-way on the road to Scutari; with
the help of a wealthy benefactor, he built there a new Akoimete
monastery, the very institution which was later to be the place
of origin of many a movement of importance in the history of
the church. 5 Abbot Marcellus was of acknowledged authority
in the disputes waged by the church in the decade from
1 Callinici, Vila S. Hypatii, p. 23, 17-20 cf. p. 39, 11. 15
2 See previous footnote and the records in Callinici, Vita S. Hypatii, p. X l f f .
3 vide supra, 172
4 Callinici vita S. Hypatii, p. 84, 25-31 vita S. Alexandri, p. 700, 13 and vita
S. Marcelli, 4 in Migne gr. 116, 709
6 vita S. Marcelli, 6-7, Migne Gr. 116, 712. C . p . J. Pargoire, Les debuts du
monachisme d Constantinople (1899), p. 73
176 6. MONASTICISM

A.D. 440. On his initiative, the monastery of Studios was

founded at Constantinople in A.D. 463. A quiet and retiring
kind of ascetic life had been practised in the west from an
early date, and the ideals of asceticism were cultivated among
a few groups of like-minded people. A group of devout clerics
gathered rpund Jerome and Rufinus at Aquileia in A.D. 374; 1
and similarly, after being baptized (A.D. 387), Augustine
became the centre of a group of disciples practising asceticism.
The family of the elder Melanius was influenced by their
nephew of the same name, and adopted the life of self-denial. 2
From A.D. 382 to 385, St. Jerome preached asceticism in R o m e
to upper-class ladies of Marcella's circle, and these had been
receptive to such teachings for decades. 3 Anicius Paulinus,
the Consular of Campania, together with his consort, Therasia,
withdrew from the world in A.D. 394, and practised the ascetic
life at Nola. 4 But the west only took slowly and haltingly to
the complete repudiation of the world as understood in the
east.
Then came St. Martin in the role of a pioneer. Born at
Stein on the river Auger in Hungary, he grew up in Pa via;
after a short career in the army under Julian, he took his
departure and became a hermit. After a restless period of
wandering, he settled down not far from Hilary of Poictiers,
till he was elected bishop of Tours in A.D. 372. He discharged
the duties of his office without surrendering his ascetic way of
life. He built himself a cell in the suburbs, two miles from the
city; disciples soon gathered round him, living in huts and
caverns, until they formed a monastic community of about
eighty members: the nucleus of the monastery of Marmoutier,
which was very famous at a later date. It is diagnostic of the
trend of the times that these monks included many members
of the upper classes; later on, the church drew on the group
for bishops. 6 In the early stages, however, the community
only met with mistrust. The choice of Martin as bishop was
vigorously attacked by the existing bishops, from whose stand-
point the poverty of the monks seemed to be an undignified
self-abasement. The bishops showed their distaste for the holy
1 2
4
Jer. Chron. Ol. 288, 2, p. 247c., Helm Hist. Laus.
6
54. 61 3 vide supra, 156
Rauschen, Jahrbücher, 547$. Sulp. Sev. vita Marlini, 10
 ST. MARTIN: THE COAST LANDS 177

m a n t h r o u g h o u t his official career; nor were they in a n y w a y

mollified b y his attitude to the persecution of the Priscillianists,
with its violence and bloodshed. 1 H e died on N o v e m b e r 10,
A.D. 400, revered b y the p o p u l a c e as a great miracle-worker;
a b i o g r a p h y b y Sulpicius presented h i m in that light, and
enjoyed a w i d e public. T h e laudatory terms in w h i c h the work
is written, should not be allowed to hide the fact that his bold
a n d aggressive policy did m u c h to put an end to p a g a n forms
o f religion, and to c a r r y t h r o u g h the evangelization o f the
country.
A b o u t this time also, the west b e g a n to be influenced b y
Athanasius's Life of Antony, w h i c h had been translated a b o u t
A.D. 380 b y Euagrius, bishop of A n t i o c h . Monks w h o lived
outside the walls of T r ê v e s c a m e to possess a copy of the book,
a n d they g a v e it to serious inquirers for their reading. It served
to convert the laity: A u g u s t i n e himself was deeply stirred b y
the accounts of the celebrated recluse and his scorn of the
w o r l d . Brothers given to this type of piety were patronized
b y A m b r o s e , a n d they established a monastery outside the
gates o f M i l a n . 2 A monastery and also a nunnery were estab-
lished at Marseilles in A.D. 404 b y J o h n Cassian on the eastern
model, w h i c h he h a d studied for over seven years in Bethlehem
a n d E g y p t . 3 D u r i n g the time that he spent in his wanderings,
St. M a r t i n once chose for a short period, as a site suitable for
monastic seclusion, the small " H e n I s l a n d " opposite A l b e n g a
in the R i v i e r a di Ponente. St. Honoratus stayed for a longer
t i m e a n d w i t h greater p r a c t i c a l results on the Isle of L e r i n u m
n e a r C a n n e s : he f o u n d e d a monastery there at the beginning
of the fifth century, 4 w h i c h soon flourished exceedingly and
c a m e to be held in great respect in G a u l . St. Eucherius settled
o n the n e i g h b o u r i n g Isle of Lero, and lived there till he was
elected bishop of L y o n s in c. A.D. 435. Castor, w h o was bishop
o f A p t in the V a u c l u s e , established a monastery at his cathedral
c h u r c h ; he requested Cassian to give him an account of the
m o n a s t e r y rules a n d the ascetical principle accepted by the
monks of Palestine and E g y p t , so that they m i g h t serve as

1 vide supra, 75 and vita Mart. 27 2 A u g u s t i n e , conf. 8, 6, 15 cf. 8, 12, 29

3 G e n n a d i u s , vir. ml. 61 E. Schwartz, 38 (1939), 8
4 H i l a r . A r e l a t . vita S. Honorati, M i g n e lat. 50, 1249b
M
178 6. MONASTICISM

models for cloisters in Gaul. T h e request gave rise shortly

before A.D. 430 to Cassian's two works: the Institutes and the
Collations; a few books of these works being dedicated to the
"brothers living on the Stoechad Islands (lies d'Hyéres)." 1
In passing, we should remark that islands lying off the coast
in other parts of the world became favourite refuges for monks.
About A.D. 400 Jerome wrote in praise of the devout Fabiola
who, either personally or by means of trustworthy agents,
distributed her benefactions over the Islands, the Tyrrhenian
Sea, the region of the Volsci, and the hidden recesses of the
indented coastline, with its cliffs and chasms, where the
monks lived. 2 A colony of monks was founded in A.D. 398 on
Capraia, an island near the north point of Corsica; within
eighteen years, the monks had stamped their character on the
whole island. 3
In Spain, it was through the instrumentality of Priscillian
and his friends that asceticism became a widespread move-
ment, although it met with opposition of a most vigorous kind
on the part of the bishops, who had grown worldly. They were
able to gain the victory, though only by violence and blood-
shed, over the leaders of the movement, and to brand as heretics
all who had similar tendencies.
In Africa, any and every kind of charismatic inclination
was regarded as a deviation from the ways of the church
universal, and therefore as suspect of Donatism; not till
Augustine made his weight felt was a change of attitude
possible. After his return to Tagaste, his native town, he began
by gathering his friends of Milan into a house-fellowship of
ascetics, of which he himself was the centre. When he was
ordained presbyter in Hippo, he established a "cloister within
the church" for the "servants of G o d " , as he preferred to call
them. Here the case was different from that at Tagaste, in that
it was no longer merely a private group of ascetics. Augustine's
disciples soon began to be looked upon as desirable clerics,
and many of them were elevated to episcopal sees; nevertheless
they continued to be monks, and founded cloisters in their

1 Cassian, Coll. 11, praef., p. 312, 9

2 Jerome, ep. 77, 6
3 Orosius, hist, y, 36, 5 R u t i l . N a m a t . de red. 1, 439f.
 AFRICA AND ITALY 179
new bishoprics. 1 Nunneries, too, were established by virtue
of Augustine's inspiration; one being founded in Hippo and
directed by his sister. 2 After her death, certain irregularities
took place, and Augustine wrote to the nuns the famous
epistle 211; here he laid down the général principles governing
the monastic life, and these at a later date were given the
necessary alterations of literary form, and then known as the
" R u l e of St Augustine". This course of events was not contrary
to Augustine's views, for he himself desired that the nuns
should use the letter as a glass in which they could examine
and test themselves; and he wanted it read aloud to them
week by week. There were several cloisters in Carthage
c. A.D. 400; and this was another place where quarrels and
disputes occurred regarding the necessity for manual labour:
Augustine, at the request of Aurelius, their bishop, had
dedicated to them his book on the Work of Monks.3 He was in
the full sense of the term the founder and organizer of
monasticism in North Africa.
In Italy, as far as can be made out, monasticism of the
strict kind, i.e. confined to cloisters, only gained a foothold
after the beginning of the fifth century. T h e monastery outside
the gates of Milan to which Ambrose lent his support, and
which we have already described,* appears to have been the
first herald of the whole movement. T h e r e is no means o f
settling the question whether the pinetum, in which c. A.D. 400
Rufinus laboured and quietly meditated, corresponded to the
Egyptian type or not. 8 Nevertheless, Italy felt the influence
of the Latin form given by Rufinus to the History of Monasticism ;
of his translation of the Rules of Basil; of Jerome's writings on
Pachomius; of the works of Cassian; and most of all, and
constantly repeated, of Euagrius's Latin version of the Life
of Antony. After A.D. 400, cloisters properly so-called began to
increase slowly in Italy. As far as the extant records go, it
would seem that Xystus I (A.D. 432-40) founded the first
monastery in R o m e , near San Sebastiano "ad Catacomb as'" ;
Leo I (A.D. 440-61) followed in his steps by founding a
' Possidius, vita Aug. 3. 5. i t Selections in Cabrol, Diet. 11, 1849-58
2 Possid. vita Aug. 2 6
3 A u g . de opere monachoTum a n d r e l e v a n t r e m a r k s in retractat. 2. 4 7
4 vide supra, 1 7 7 6 R u f i n . de bened. patr. lib. 2 prarf., p. 22, V a l l a r s i
i8o 6. MONASTIGISM

monastery near St Peter's. 1 From this date onwards details,

not always trustworthy, begin to multiply as to what was
taking place in other cities; 2 and in the course of the fifth
century, monasticism had become fully naturalized even in Italy.
When in'the time of Pope Damasus (366-84) oriental forms
of asceticism were beginning to make a great appeal, opposition
to the innovation was expressed in various ways, including that
of polemical writings. A certain Helvidius, of whom there is
no other record, wrote a tract in which he asserted that, after
the birth of Jesus, the Virgin Mary had lived conjugally with
Joseph, and borne him children described in Scripture as the
brothers and sisters of Jesus. " A n d why not, indeed? A r e
virgins in any way superior to Abraham, Isaac, and J a c o b ,
who were married men?" That was an attack on the monks'
ideal of Mary, and on the theory of the irrefragable superiority
of celibacy which lay at the foundation of asceticism. Jerome
attacked the bold scribe and drove him back with vitriolic
language, and by an appeal to the support of St. Paul; Damasus
rewarded Jerome with his approval. 3
But in a short time a mightier warrior appeared in the
arena. A monk named Jovinian aroused attention and gained
respect at Rome, in that, by one and the same stroke, he
abandoned the eastern strictness he had been practising,
resumed forms of asceticism which were normal in the west,
and which did not exclude outright all intercourse with the
world. 4 He uttered a warning against the heresy of thinking
that celibacy constituted a special merit in God's sight; he
even urged men and women who had lived so far as monastics
to enter into marriage. 5 He defended his teaching in a document
that was widely read by the people of Rome. In it he declared
that all who had been baptized, no matter whether they lived
in continence, in the widowed or the married state, were
equally meritorious, granted that the rest of their conduct
was of equal quality. The power to repulse the temptations
of the devil was afforded, not by asceticism, but by baptism
received in real faith. His doctrine was that being born of

1
Lib. jiontif. 46, 7 47, 7 2 Summary in Cabrol, Diet. 2, 3 1 7 9 - 9 2 cf. 1 1 , 1873
3 4
J e r . adv. Helv. and ep. 49, 18, 2 J e r . adv. Jovinianum, 1, 40 2, 21
5
August, de ptcc. met. et rem. 3, 13, 7 retract. 2, 22 cf. J e r . adv. Jov. 2, 36
 JOVINIAN L8L

God as taught by i John 3: 9 and 5: 18, shielded us from sin.

Similarly, as taught by 1 Tim. 4: 4, it was equally good whether
one refrained from certain foods or ate them with a thankful
heart; for in God's sight there were no degrees and grades of
merit. One and the same reward in the Kingdom was promised
to all who had been baptized, as was clearly proved by Matt.
20: 1-16, in the parable of the Workers in the Vineyard. 1
T h e attack, made as it was from the gospel as its base, broke
with full force on the egoistic motivation of asceticism, and
raised a corresponding resentment among those who favoured
monasticism; the latter proceeded to lay complaints before
Bishop Siricius. T h e whole of the R o m a n clergy assembled
in convention, defined their attitude to the "abominable
document", consigned the initiators of the "new heresy",
Jovinian and eight of his followers, to eternal damnation, and
excommunicated them from the church. They reported their
conclusions officially to a few bishops, 2 and the answer which
was sent from Milan is still extant. T h e men against whom
the pronouncement had been directed had made their way
to this very place, closely followed by the official representa-
tives of the R o m a n convention. These delegates were successful
in persuading Ambrose to call a few bishops together, and
these in turn pronounced sentence of condemnation on Jovinian
and his friends. It is in this connection that we are told of
certain points that the heretics had asserted: among other
things, they had said that after the birth of Jesus, Mary was
no longer a virgin in the accepted sense of the term; the
predicate applied to her only before she had given birth to
Jesus. This is a point, by the way, that brings out clearly the
connection between asceticism and the worship of Mary.
H o w serious a view was taken of the attack made by Jovinian
is seen in the fact that the powers at the disposal of the state
were invoked against him. T h e result was that the emperor,
Honorius, promulgated a decree on March 6, A.D. 398,
ordering him to be whipped and then to be banished to an
island on the Dalmatian coast; his adherents were to be
1 J e r . adv Jov. 1, 3 cf. 2, 1. 20
2 S i r i c i u s , ep. 7 Optarem semper ( C o u s t a n t , p . 663) A m b r o s e ' s answer follows
a s n u m b e r 8 Recognovimns ( C o u s t a n t , p . 6 6 9 ) ; b o t h o c c u r u n d e r the n a m e o f
A m b r o s e as ep. 42
182 6. MONASTICISM

separated a n d interned o n different islands. 1 J o v i n i a n d i d not

live v e r y long, for he is k n o w n to h a v e b e e n d e a d b y A.D. 406. 2
J e r o m e responded to the request o f friends in R o m e b y
writing a refutation of J o v i n i a n in t w o books. T h e w o r k is not
a j u d i c i o u s piece of writing, b u t full o f perverse distortions
and exaggerations so outrageous t h a t his keenest supporters
in the p r o j e c t felt ashamed. T h e y recalled the copies w h i c h
h a d a r r i v e d in R o m e , a n d sent J e r o m e a list o f the offensive
passages, together w i t h a request that he w o u l d re-write t h e m ;
a b o v e all else he must a v o i d giving the a p p e a r a n c e t h a t praise
and a p p r e c i a t i o n of the condition of virginity was necessarily
conjoined w i t h a low r e g a r d for, a n d e v e n c o n d e m n a t i o n of,
the m a r r i e d state: 3 for t h a t w o u l d b o r d e r on the M a n i c h e a n
w a y o f thinking. J e r o m e felt r e b u f f e d ; b u t his critics were
eminent persons, a n d hence to be dealt w i t h politely. H e
therefore w r o t e an open letter, and did his best to meet their
objections. Nevertheless w h a t it all a m o u n t e d to, in the end,
was t h a t he claimed the support of St. Paul, a n d a d d u c e d
passages f r o m the Bible agreeing w i t h the view that m a r r i a g e
was a state of lower merit. It should be a d d e d that this conten-
tion of his was also the practical effect of his o w n experience
of life: asceticism had been the one thing to give h i m a purchase
on m o r a l i t y ; he could only evaluate m a r r i a g e in the light of
the brothels he h a d k n o w n in his y o u t h , a n d of the salacious
images d r a w n from them, w h i c h only too often flickered in
and out a m o n g the elements that constituted his religious life.
T h i s fact also explains w h y all his writings a n d letters w h i c h
discuss t h e nature and v a l u e of asceticism b e t r a y a strong
affer-taste o f abstract studies; they lack the freshness and the
force given b y genuinely religious experience.

(5) Monastic Theorists

T h e Sayings of the Fathers has frequently been referred to in
the p r e c e d i n g pages; it is plainly an artless record portraying
1 Cod. Theod. 16, 5, 53 for the date, cf. Tillemont, 10, 753 and Mommsen adloc.
2 Jer. ad Vigilantium, 1 . 2 3 ibid. 1p. 49, 2, 50, 3 and ep. 48 for Jerome's apology
 SYMEON OF MESOPOTAMIA

the feelings and the popular character of the ideas found

among the monks in the Natron Valley. O n the other hand,
Athanasius was a trained thinker who used his literary gifts
to commend the ideal of the hermit, and wrote a biography
of one of these holy men which is indispensable for under-
standing the subject. In the seventies of the fourth century,
Symeon of Mesopotamia came to the front as a theologian of
the, Messalian type of ascetics, although his name has only
become known to modern scholars as the consequence of
researches first published in 1941. 1 It is true that his writings,
or at least a considerable selection of them, have for a long
time been held in the highest esteem as part of the mystical
literature of the Greek Church; 2 they bore the name of
Makarius, the early Egyptian ascetic, a device which concealed
the secret that the real author was a heretic, and made it
possible for his writings to be included in the literature of the
Greek Church. Such a camouflage was frequently adopted in
those days: among other instances of the sort were certain
writings of Apollinaris, 3 which were published as works of
Athanasius, Julius of Rome, or Gregory Thaumaturgos, and
thereby preserved for the use of the church catholic. Nor are
further parallels lacking in the history of early Christian
literature. Symeon wrote his works in Greek and they breathe
the Greek spirit. The stern, root and branch character of the
Messalian Syrians is left on one side; and of the blank refusal
by an ascetic to do any kind of labour, or to have the least
traffic with anything earthly, there is no mention. On the
contrary: an active, practical concern for one's neighbour was
a duty explicitly commanded, and not to be condemned. 4
Symeon wrote to encourage and instruct a group of brothers
who had had a change of heart, and were making efforts to
reach Christian perfection. He shared the view that there was
need for completely dispensing with all earthly ties and all
possessions, and for the literal fulfilment of the ascetic prescrip-
tions in the Sermon on the Mount, if that perfection was to
1 H . Dorries, Symeon von Mesopotamien, 1941 (Texte u. Unters. 55, 1), and other
works by Dorries
2 Macarii Aegyplii opera, especially the 50 homilies, ed. TIoss, Migne gr. 34,

449-822 Also J . Stoffels, Die mystische Theologie Makarius d. Aeg. 1908

3 vide V o l . 3, 26gf. * hom. 3, 2 8, 1. 4
184 6. MONASTICISM

be reached; for anything of an earthly character fettered one's

thoughts once more to the earth, and gave Satan a purchase
for bringing wickedness into effect. 1 When our Lord said,
" B e not anxious", the words were to be obeyed quite literally;
with the consequence that the true monk was forbidden to use
curative herbs or medicines, or indeed take advantage of any
kind of medical therapy. God had ordained such things only
for people of the world and "all other outsiders", who were
not yet able to surrender themselves to God in complete faith. 2
W h a t was not forbidden was to prepare in a simple w a y for
meeting the requirements of life on the morrow; nay, it was a
duty in accordance with God's will that a "perfect" Christian
should so prepare. 3
In the meantime, it was necessary to recognize that outer
austerities were of a preliminary nature, and might lead to
that false conception of the monastic ideal which never shook
itself free from the bonds of earth. 4 T h e crucial factor was that
of a change of heart, for redemption proceeded from within
outwards. Even after the fall of Adam, mankind could be
said, on formal grounds, to have retained the image of God,
in that man's will was still free. 6 But the higher aspect of our
nature, due to the logos, had gone, having been replaced by
the image of Cain; and the tempestuous nature of the passions
tossed human thoughts pell-mell together, as if they were
shaken in a sieve. 6 Ever since the days of A d a m , Satan had
shrouded every human soul in a finely-spun veil, which cut off
the divine light, and consigned the soul to the empire of
darkness. 7
It was impossible for a man by his own resources to escape
from this woeful state of sin; but God, by His grace, had
provided a w a y of deliverance: Christ, by the death H e died
on the cross quite guiltlessly, had been too adroit for the devil,
and had snatched from him any further claim on the descend-
ants of A d a m . 8
Moreover, by becoming incarnate in man, Christ had
restored the possibility of union between the spirit of God and

1 hom. 11, 7 2 ibid. 48, 5 - 6 3ibid. 8, 4 4 ibid. 5, 4 17, 15 38, 1 43, 3

5 ibid. 1, 7 15, 23 37, 10 6 ibid. 5, 1 - 3 7 ibid. 28, 4 32, 10 cf. 8, 3. 5
8 ibid. 11, 9 - 1 0
 SYMEON OF MESOPOTAMIA

human nature, and had smoothed the way along which our
soul could again become the habitation of God. 1 T h e process
came about in the individual person in the following manner:
God knocked at the door of our heart, to be allowed in; when
it came about that we opened to Him, He entered and pre-
sented us with the gifts proper to His spirit. 2 At this point, our
soul became the scene of a struggle between God and the
devil, light and darkness; and the issue depended on the
strength of our will. 3 I f a man surrendered himself in complete
earnestness to the grace of God, his soul would be born anew
of God; and the image of Christ, constituted of a fine, delicate,
heavenly substance, would form in him and would cast out
the aforesaid veil of darkness. 4 T h e process was not a sudden
one, but took place slowly8 with a continual struggle on the
part of the will against sin, which used all its powers to defend
its former habitation. In putting up the fight, the soul's most
valuable means of aid was prayer, which should be offered
up to God unceasingly, but with an evident calmness and
quiet peace of heart. 6 Any man whose will could not be bent,
and who drove himself forcibly to the practice of the virtues
which he lacked, would find a hearing; the Lord would supply
him with power such that, in the course of time, he would
become habituated to virtue, and do willingly what he had
formerly been able to achieve only despite the cravings of his
heart. He would then be full of the fruits of the spirit; for the
Lord Himself would live in him and fulfil His own command-
ments in him, with the result that it would be his nature to
practise the Christian virtues. 7
In some cases when a man was earnestly battling in prayer,
God would grant his petition at once, even though he were
living in the ordinary world; others, He would allow to wait
in spite of having long been ascetics, and would test them to
see whether their strength of will alone would enable them to
bear this trial. But one could be assured of God's grace in the
end, for He was One who unfailingly redeemed His promises:
"Seek and ye shall find."8 From another angle of approach,

1 hom. 32, 6 cf. 1, 7 2 ibid. 30, 9 cf. 15, 5 3 ibid. 26, 24

* ibid. 1 , 1 0 3 0 , 2 . 3 4 9 , 4 4 , 9 . 1 1 n , 3 3 0 , 4 . 5 4 6 , 4 «¿¿¿¿.15, 4 1 . 4 2
* ibid. 6 , 1 - 4 4°> 2 Dorries, 24 "'ibid. 1 9 , 2 - 3 . 5 - 7 s ibid. 2 9 , 1 - 2 Dorries, 15
i86 6. MONASTICISM

it must nevertheless be understood that even the holiest person

was not safe from falling back into sin; not even if, for a time,
he had attained the highest degree of perfection; Symeon
himself had never seen a Christian, free to follow his own
heart, who was in an enduring state of perfection. 1
In spite of all the preceding, it must still be insisted that an
objective change came about when a man experienced the
divine re-birth. O n the one hand, it was seen in his increasingly
effective repression of sin, his growing ease in practising
virtue, his j o y f u l assimilation to the sufferings of Christ in
bearing the hatred of the world. Christians filled by the spirit
fulfilled the commandments of the Sermon on the Mount
joyfully, forgave every act of injustice, loved those who
persecuted them, and did not j u d g e others, not even if they
were openly known to be sinners, and were universally
shunned. 2 O n the other hand, the presence of the spirit in
the soul of the re-born was made manifest by the soul's
rapturous ardour of love for G o d , which was the blessing
given by Christ, the bridegroom, to the soul betrothed to
H i m . 3 It was as a kind of heavenly fire that this love glowed
everywhere in the soul, purified her, fed her with heavenly
food, and clothed her in heavenly garments. 4 Her veil of
darkness fell to the ground, the light of heaven illumined the
eyes of her understanding; and those who were specially
blessed were enabled by this light to perceive their own souls
looking like angels, exactly as would be plain to all at the
general resurrection. 8 G o d in His goodness and mercy might
" a b a s e " Himself, and form a body for Himself out of the most
delicate material, thus becoming similar to sainted souls
whose faith was worthy; and these latter would be able to
see Him, taste His sweetness, and enjoy the graciousness of
His ineffable light. In the same way, God might make His
epiphany in the form of the Heavenly Jerusalem, or incarnate
Himself at the Lord's Supper in the Bread of Life and the
Wine of Heaven; and that was indeed w h y it came about

1 horn. 17, 6 29, 13 50, 4 8, 5 Dorries, 94

2 epist. 2, p. 420b, c 437c, d hom. 8, 6 37, 4 15. 8 32, 9
3 hom. 4, 14 8 , 1 9,9 30,4 31,4 45,7 46,6
4 ibid. 4, 14 14. 3. 4. 7 25, 10
6 ibid. 46, 4 . 5 7, 5 - 7 5, 9 11, I
 SYMEON OF MESOPOTAMIA 187

that H e was seen in bodily form by the men of the O l d

Testament. 1
T h e surviving corpus of Symeon's writings contains a few
passages in which he spoke about himself, and related his
experiences as a visionary; here he explained to the reader
why all earthly joys were worthless and entirely of a negative
character to a man who had once enjoyed the blessedness of
the heavenly vision. 2
O n one occasion, a certain man came home from his day's
work and began to pray in his little chamber; within a single
hour the prayer laid hold of his veritable inner self, and
translated him in rapture into the boundless depths of the
world beyond; his thoughts forgot all that was earthly, and
were filled with all that was Divine, Heavenly, Boundless,
Incomprehensible, Miraculous—and, in the midst of that
experience, he prayed and said, " W o u l d that m y soul might
take wings with my prayer".
Grace was implanted in a man in his earliest youth, as if
it were an element of his nature; but it operated by its own
choice and with increasing effect. A t one time, it would let the
fire flame high and the light shine clear in intoxication; but
then d a m p everything down and make it dark. In many cases,
the light would imprint the sign of the cross on his inner self;
many would be transported by prayer into ecstasy, find them-
selves in church standing at the altar, and eating bread which
increased miraculously; many received a garment of light like
John and Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration; or, again,
the light which shone in the heart would reveal that other,
inner, deeply-buried light, till the whole self sinks away in a
sweet vision, and loses his earthly consciousness in the overflow
of love and delight due to the hidden secrets.
When the right time came, the man would receive his
freedom, reach the height of perfection, and be pure and free
from sin. After that, grace withdraws, the veil of the hostile
powers returns, and the man sinks down to a lower degree of
perfection. There were twelve degrees, and there were blessed
persons who spent day and night on the highest stage. But
complete permanence was not accorded to that state, for the
1 horn. 4, 9 - 1 3 2 C o m b i n e d f r o m horn. 8 cf. 7, 1 a n d D o r r i e s , 2 g f f .
 6. MONASTICISM

one who was enjoying the experience sat in ecstasy and

intoxication on one side, unable either to attend to his own
needs, to those of his brethren, to the work of preaching the
gospel, or to the cares of the morrow. It was therefore not
granted that anyone should remain permanently in a state of
perfection.
The disciples thereupon requested the master, "Tell us at
what stage you yourself stand?" He replied that, first of all,
he had received the sign of the cross; then grace began to
operate, spreading a sense of peace throughout his body and
into his heart until, on account of its intense joy, his soul
seemed to be that of an innocent child. As far as he was con-
cerned, he ceased to condemn anybody, whether pagan or
J e w , sinner or worldling; rather his inner self surveyed them
all with guileless eyes, and rejoiced at everything; he desired
nothing else than to pray to God and to exercise love. He
trusted as a king's son would trust in the Son of God: like
trusting the king, his own father; and when he walked about
in His Kingdom, with its numerous habitations (John 14: 2),
hundreds upon hundreds of doors opened to him; he was the
rich heir of possessions beyond human description. After that,
he preached to men as one who had been sent by Christ, and
spoke of the heavenly secrets, as far as mankind was able to
grasp those incomprehensible elements which belonged to the
higher world. The division between these worlds had been
dissolved as far as he was concerned, and the heavenly light
shone brightly on him day and night, although with varying
intensity; sometimes indeed it was veiled in mist, and it was
for this reason that Symeon referred to himself and said,
" I do not enjoy perfect freedom". In the exegesis 1 that he
gave of the well-known vision in which Ezekiel saw the chariot
of God, it is possible to perceive the reflexion of a vision which
Symeon had seen in ecstasy; and this in turn makes it possible
to deduce how he transmuted events in the other world of
experience, and used them to teach his disciples in his sermons.
In regard to the question as to the nature of this type of
Christianity, the answer is unhesitating, just as in the case of
the Egyptian form of asceticism: it was essentially a religion
1
hom. 1 Dorries, 161
 SYMEON OF MESOPOTAMIA 189

of self-redemption, depending on one's strength of will when

supported by grace as given by God. Even granted that much
emphasis was placed on the fact that it was God who took
action in the first instance, and that it was only His grace
which conferred any real value on the human will or on
human works—nevertheless, the crucial factor was a man's
own free will, and his own faithful continuance in steadfast
prayer. The incarnation of Christ provided a metaphysical
basis for the rehabilitation of the soul in pneumatic and
ethical terms; yet it remained true that that rehabilitation
was conceived materialistically; the sufferings of Christ were
a model, and an inspiring example, for men striving to follow
Him.
The church was scarcely mentioned at all, and the sacra-
ments were only incidental matters: they were not the starting-
points for the operation of grace. The situation is particularly
clear in passages which declare that grace is present as a
nucleus even in a child. Statements of this character show that
Symeon was a faithful disciple of the Messalian school of ideas
about religion. Moreover, he constantly put forward a kind of
eschatological relativity, really interested only in the "perfect";
all the rest, whether Christians belonging to the church or
pagans outside it, were graded according to their balance of
rewards over penalties in the next world. "Many people
declare that there is only one Kingdom of Heaven and one
hell; our doctrine, however, is that there are many stages,
and differences, and degrees, in both heaven and hell"; and he
was quite explicit and emphatic in the way he carried these
ideas beyond the frontiers of the church. 1 It is there, of course,
that we find the very point at which asceticism of this type
betrays clearly that it had some roots in soil external to
Christianity; and however cautious the "men of prayer"
might be, it was always a possibility that the church would
set on foot some motion to repudiate them. Yet it must be
said in their favour that the profound earnestness of the spirit
in which they repudiated the world, and the blessedness of
mystic love found in their souls, combined with the rapture
of the vision of God, have exercised an irresistible compulsion
1 hom. 40, 3f.
 6. MONASTICISM

over the hearts of Christians in isolated cases, at all times and

in every age, down to and including those who share the
religious sensibilities of our own day. In spite of all this,
however, we must insist that this type of religion derives not
its substance, but only its modes of thought, its metaphors,
and its similes, from Christianity.
In the case of Symeon, what had happened was that the
Messalian movement had been refined by Greek influences.
The fanaticism by which he was animated, with all its radical
quality so characteristic of Syria, recurs in a series of thirty
Syriac tractates, called the Book of Grades (Liber Graduum),
discovered recently and first printed in 1926. 1 The tractates
were written towards the end of the fourth century, but it is
impossible to deduce from their language anything as to the
place in which they were written. The anonymous author
addresses himself to the brethren, fathers, and sisters in Christ;
he urges them to search the Scriptures for the commandments
of God, and to grasp their variety and their differences;
granting, however, that it could only be done with the help of
the Holy Spirit, and by a person who hated his own self, humbly
took up his cross, and completely repudiated the world.
The ascetical doctrine of salvation is repeated a hundred
times 2 throughout these addresses; it insists on the difference
between the "righteous", i.e. those Christians who are members
of the church and who live in the world in the ordinary way;
and, on the other hand, the "perfect", who are of a different
calibre. T h e "righteous" keep the commandments as to what
is required of a citizen who is also a Christian: they avoid
murder, theft, adultery; make their assertions only by saying
Yes, or No; and they are not greedy of another's property.
They are honest in business and do not accept interest on
loans. They maintain the purity of the church, and banish
from their midst any sinners who do not amend their ways—
in accordance with Matt. 18: 16, 17. They had a "decalogue"
which was not derived from the Old Testament, but ran as
1
Edited with splendid introductions and provided with a translation by the
discoverer, Michael Kmosko, and published in Patrologia Syriaca, pars, ¡ ,
tome 3, Liber Graduum, Paris, 1926 For the problem of the date, cf. Hausherr
in Orientalia Christiana periodica, 1 ( 1 9 3 5 ) , 495-502
" Formulated with special clarity in sermons 14. 19. 20.
 LIBER GRADUUM

follows: 1 "Hear, O Israel, our Lord and God is One. T h o u

shalt love God thy Lord with all thy heart, with all thy strength,
and with all thy soul. A n d thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself. Thou shalt not kill, not commit adultery, not steal,
not bear false witness"—in other words their commandments
were compounded from Mark 12: 29-31 and Matt. 19: 18.
A t baptism, the church administered the sacrament which
conveyed the Holy Spirit, and so made it possible to fulfil
these commandments and depart this life without sin. 2 A n d
further, a backsliding sinner could restore his purity by means
of repentance, for the seal of baptism remained with a Christian
till death; it persisted even through times of sinful weakness.
A l l was lost only in the case of the man who stood out unre-
pentant till the last. 3
Y e t the truth was that the entire earthly church, complete
with its sacraments, was only a symbol, like all other earthly
things; it was a copy, comprehensible to man, of a super-
sensible reality: the "hidden church" with its redemptive
powers. 4 It was to this church that the "perfect" belonged,
i.e., those who had come to possess the Holy Spirit perfectly,
and to whom the Paraclete imparted the entire fullness of His
revelation. 6 T h e "perfect" climbed the steep grades which
led up to the hidden city; and did not wander off into the
easy ways followed by the "righteous".
Three things were indispensable for perfection: 6 humility,
love of enemies, a spirit of reconciliation no matter what the
circumstances; then the dispensing with all possessions, and
even with labour for the means of subsistence; and, finally,
continence, and a purity of heart such as A d a m enjoyed
before the Fall. It was there that one found the secret of
redemption which Christ had brought as the Second A d a m
(1 Cor. 15: 45): we should follow His example, and conquer
the sinfulness which had grown from the sensual passions. 7
T h e conquest would be achieved by repudiating anything and
everything earthly, and thus that purity of heart would be
gained by which one was enabled to see God.

1 Sermo 22, 2 1 2 ibid. 28, 8 12, 4 3 ibid. 24, 2 4 ibid. 28, 8

5 ibid. 15, 16 6 ibid. 20, I, with remarks on p. C V I I I f .
7 ibid. 15, 9 21, 4. 11 25, 2 Christ's Passion as example, cf. S e r m o 17
192 6. MONASTICISM

Only the "perfect" had the possibility of fulfilling God's

will, in following word for word the sternest of Jesus' sayings;
they alone received their reward while yet on earth, for heaven
was open to their gaze every day; they sang praises to the
Lord as they confessed H i m ; they walked in the spirit from
one stage of glory to the next; and they beheld the L o r d in
their hearts as if in a mirror. 1 After death, they and they alone,
would enjoy the sight of the Lord Jesus Christ in His heavenly
church, and join in His blessedness. 2 True, " i n the Father's
house were many mansions", and the "righteous" would also
receive their reward and inherit the K i n g d o m of G o d ; but
their blessedness would be of a lower degree, not to be com-
pared with the bliss of the "perfect". 3 Similarly, those who
were only half-heartedly righteous would be found worthy of
a reward suited to their good works, after they had suffered
the punishment appropriate to their wicked ways. 4
T h e point was, therefore, that there was only one course
open for a man who meant to take the Christian life in earnest,
and attain the goal indicated by the Lord: he must not dally
at the preparatory stage characteristic of average church-
goers; but boldly decide to have done with the world alto-
gether, and lay hold on perfection. All the thirty homilies
re-echo this exhortation time and again; they were expressly
written, indeed, for the purpose of hammering the doctrine
home into the souls of the readers. It is insisted with the
greatest emphasis that any and every type of asceticism was to
be repudiated as just the deceit of the devil, if it clung to the
world by manual labour, trade, or possessions of any kind
whatsoever; or if it used these means, either for gaining
subsistence, or for doing good to others. 6 All works of charity
were denied to the "perfect"; all manual labour was forbidden
him. What little he needed to live on, the "righteous" were to
provide for him; 6 he himself was to concentrate entirely on the
progress of his own soul. In other words, he was to give himself
to unceasing praise, prayer, and chanting psalms. 7 Nor should
he any longer have a home, neither any fixed place for rest;
rather, if he have properly and adequately trained him-
1 Sermo 14, 2 2 ibid. 12, 7 16,12 20,14 3 ibid. 3 , 2 . 3 15,10 30,27
4 ibid. 15, 10 30, 27 6 ibid. 25 8 ibid. 25, 3. 8 7 ibid. 3, 15 7, 20 14, 2 27, 5
 EUAGRIUS PONTICUS 193
self as an ascetic, he would roam from place to place as a
wandering apostle and a living example of the gospel of Jesus
Christ. 1
The homilies betray no hostility of any sort to the church
, and her teaching; rather, the writer stresses his respect for the
church, her bishops, and her doctrine. The significant differ-
ence was that he taught it to be the duty of the "perfect"
to be friendly towards the "sects", and show pastoral concern
for them—whereas the church was in the habit of persecuting
heretics; occasionally, even the "perfect" were martyred as a
bloody sacrifice to the hatred felt by the church, because
they "had said something she thought enigmatic", i.e. some
heresy was suspected.2 Nothing else is required to complete
our understanding of the movement: it was obviously a form
of radical asceticism such as was characteristic of Syria; nay,
the qualities specific to Messalianism are reflected in its
repudiation of labour; its regard solely for singing praise or
the psalms, and for the practice of prayer; and in its homeless-
ness.
It was Euagrius Ponticus who worked out the theory of
monasticism as practised in the desert of Scetis; and fuller
records have .survived regarding this person and the events of
his life. 3 As his name shows, he was born in Pontus of Asia
Minor, the actual place being the town of Ibora 4 which lay
not far from the Cappadocian border. That may well have
been how he became acquainted with Basil, whose monastery
at Annesoi 6 was in the vicinity. He became one of the many
monks under his supervision, and was installed as "reader"
by him. But a monk's life of this kind failed to hold him
permanently. After Basil's death, he abandoned the cloister;
and he next comes to notice at Constantinople in A.D. 381 as
a deacon, and an eager disciple of Gregory Nazianzus. He
told a travelling companion of his good fortune in finding his
ideal in Gregory, a great Christian orator, and a philosopher.
One sign that he had really learned something from Basil was
that he soon afterwards wrote a pamphlet on the essential
1 S e r m o 19, 31 27, 4 - 5 30, 2 . 2 ibid. 27, 5 30, 4
3 Hist. Laus. 38 Socr. 4, 23, 3 4 - 7 1 epist. 22, p. 5 8 1 , ed. F r a n k e n b e r g (cf.
p. 2 1 ) , a n d Bousset. Apophth. Pair. 336
4 Pauly-VV. 9, 8 1 6 6 vide supra, 173

N
194 6. MONASTICISM

problems of the doctrine of the T r i n i t y . 1 T h e p a m p h l e t plainly

revealed a characteristic w h i c h was to be unmistakably
evident a m o n g writers of a later date, viz. that the two
C a p p a d o c i a n s h a d given h i m a thorough grounding in Origen's
theology, and that he h a d taken to it with enthusiasm. W h e n
G r e g o r y left Constantinople, Euagrius remained behind, and
lodged w i t h Nektarius. H e only tore himself a w a y and went
to Jerusalem for his o w n soul's good, b u t w i t h a bleeding
heart: he h a d fallen in love w i t h an eminent lady, a love w h i c h
caused h i m severe distress of conscience. T h e sainted Melanius
was able to speak to h i m so impressively that she healed his
wounds. H e then j o u r n e y e d to E g y p t , and after two years
m a d e his w a y to the hills of Nitria, where he b e c a m e a disciple
of Makarius of A l e x a n d r i a and of Makarius the " E g y p t i a n " , 2
and, eventually, the leading authority on monasticism. T h o s e
monks of the Nitrian desert w h o were capable of more academic
thought, p r o b a b l y o w e d it to h i m that they brought the study
of O r i g e n to full b l o o m — a l t h o u g h , at a later date, the fruits
they garnered were v e r y bitter.
It was while in this district that Euagrius composed those
writings w h i c h were soon to be studied as classical documents
and invaluable text-books b y the monks of east and west
alike, and w h i c h were also translated into Syriac, A r m e n i a n ,
and Latin. But the verdict of condemnation w h i c h the church
pronounced on O r i g e n in the sixth century, applied also to
Euagrius; with the result that, except for small fragments, the
original Greek text of his works has disappeared. T h e transla-
tions were more fortunate, and almost everything he wrote
has survived in the Syriac version. 3 It comprises t w o major
writings and a n u m b e r of smaller tracts. I h a v e pointed out on
an earlier p a g e that the E g y p t i a n monks regarded the Bible
w i t h a certain timorous a w e as a " h o l y " book, and were unable
as a consequence to a p p r o a c h the problem of its m e a n i n g ; 4
b u t in the Antirrhetikos, Euagrius showed h o w to follow Christ's

1 E x t a n t in S y r i a c , cf. F r a n k e n b e r g , 6 2 0 - 3 4 a n d in G r e e k , cf. Basil, epist. 8,

w h e r e it is therefore p s e u d o n y m o u s vide Bousset, Apophth. 335—41
2 vide supra, 139
3 E d i t e d a n d translated b y W . F r a n k e n b e r g , Euagrius Ponticus (Abh. Gott. Ges.

N . F . 13, N o . 2), 1912

4 vide supra, 153
 EUAGRIUS PONTICUS 195
example (Matt. 4: 1 - 1 1 ) , and use quotations from the Bible
to overcome temptations offered b y demons. 1
T h e r e were eight evil spirits w h i c h kept a m o n k under
constant attack: the demons of gluttony, adultery, avarice,
despondency, irritability, weariness of being a monk, sloth,
arrogance. F o r each of these eight vices, Euagrius indicated
the causes and the devilish foundations; and then he g a v e a
quotation from the Bible w h i c h would enable the m o n k to
gain the victory. T h u s the Antirrhetikos formed a useful vade
mecum for w h a t Euagrius called the " a c t i v e " monk, i.e. one
w h o was struggling and striving to get nearer heaven. For
the " p e r f e c t " , w h o h a d been granted a glimpse of the h e a v e n l y
secrets, he then wrote On the 600 gnostic problems. T h e work
was divided into six books, and as each book dealt w i t h 100
propositions, it is customarily referred to as the Centuries.2
O n e feature which marked the Antirrhetikos is also very
evident in the Centuries: Euagrius consciously adopted the
literary form w h i c h was characteristic of the Sayings of the
Fathers. H e eschewed long discussions, a n d dispensed altogether
w i t h continuous and unbroken discourse—such as occurred in
Symeon's writings—and aimed at simply setting forth a series
of short and pithy sentences. T h u s he presented his t e a c h i n g
in a vivid and effective form easy to remember. It m a y be
added that the Centuries, in w h i c h speculation was free to m o v e
at pleasure, has survived in its Syriac form with a detailed
commentary written c. A.D. 600 b y the archimandrite, B a b a i .
T h e commentary is of great help in revealing how the con-
struction put on the Centuries had been expanded b y the monks.
Euagrius gave a short sketch of his doctrine of monasticism
in a work of two parts called The Monk: here 100 sentences are
devoted to the "Praktikos," 3 and 50 more to the "Gnostikos",4
and similarly 50 to the Looking Glass for Monks and Nuns.5 A
series of letters completes his literary remains. 6 T h e feature
that makes a notable difference between the writings of
Euagrius, on the one hand, and on the other, everything else
of a cognate kind, was the fact that he o w e d to O r i g e n the
1 Frankenberg, 427-545 2 ibid. 8 - 4 7 1
3 E x t a n t in G r e e k , Migne gr. 40, 1 2 1 9 - 5 2 * Frankenberg, 546-53
5 G r e e k text ed. H . Gressmann in Texte u. Unters. V o l . 39, part 4 (1913)
6 Frankenberg, 554-635
N*
ig6 6. MONASTICISM

air he breathed, and the idiom he e m p l o y e d ; nay, indeed,

he w e n t back even e a r l i e r — t o the tradition of A l e x a n d r i a .
T h e idea that the perfect m o n k was a gnostic can be traced
b a c k in a straight line to that ideal Christian gnostic w h o m
C l e m e n t of A l e x a n d r i a , in his o w n d a y , portrayed as the
genuine alternative to the syncretistic gnostic. 1 T h e conception
of heaven and earth, of w a y s of life here and hereafter, w h i c h
Euagrius everywhere assumes, is neither more nor less than
Origen's idea in all its b r e a d t h a n d depth. It was f r o m the
same master that Euagrius learned his Biblical exegesis; and
he frequently imparts to his readers the mystical doctrines
w h i c h he had found in O r i g e n ' s c o m m e n t a r y on the Psalms. 2
T h e very d e m o n s — n o t mentioned in the Messalian writings
— r e a p p e a r in the forefront of the monastic life in accordance
w i t h the Nitrian tradition; not n o w as mere desert wraiths,
but sharing the traits of O r i g e n ' s spiritual world. T h e y
constituted a graded hierarchy of their o w n ; their powers of
attack corresponded w i t h their privileges. A person w h o knew
w h a t these were could p l a y o f f their powers against each
o t h e r — t o his o w n a d v a n t a g e . 3
O n l y a few words need be devoted to describing the gradu-
ated system in w h i c h the various stages were arranged. T h e
praktikos began with faith and reverence, which were under-
girded b y asceticism, and m a d e permanent b y patience and
hope. T h e goal of life was freedom from all emotion, apatheia,
w h i c h gave birth to love. But love was the gateway to know-
ledge of things (physical gnosis), leading in turn to the praise
of G o d (theologia) and supreme bliss. 4 Numerous sentences
discuss methods for dealing w i t h the attacks of subversive
thoughts; and it is said emphatically that freedom from
emotion cannot be gained without disregarding food, drink,
reputation, and hygiene. 6 T h a t was w h a t constituted the
pre-supposition for higher a d v a n c e — t o the stage of gnosis or
theoria. T h e lower stage of k n o w l e d g e was constituted by that
grasp of the concrete or the abstract world which was gained
1 vide V o l . 2, 291-95 2 Bousset, Apophth. 287-321
8 Pract. N o . 43-46 Migne 40, 1244 a n d N o . 58, 1248 N o . 3if., p. 1250
* Pract. init. p. 1221c, N o . 56, p. 1223c, d cf. Bousset 3i6f. Reitzensteiri',
Hist. Monach. I28ff.
5 Pract. N o . 63, p. 1236
 EUAGRIUS PONTICUS 197
b y the use of rational and discursive t h o u g h t — i n other words,
it consisted of those objects which O r i g e n spoke of enthusiastic-
ally as the first goal of his desires w h e n he b e g a n to strive for
knowledge. 1 T h e first goal was succeeded and exceeded,
according to Euagrius and also O r i g e n his master, b y the
intuitive vision of the H o l y Trinity, w h i c h vision, according
to M a t t . 5: 8, was reserved for those w h o were " p u r e in h e a r t " .
A n d that, again, was the blessed condition o f those persons
w h o were exalted above all isolated phenomena, continuously
engaged in prayer, and w h o enjoyed perfect c o m m u n i o n with
God.2
In conclusion, it should be said that, while everything that
Euagrius h a d set down in his various writings h a d to do with
the attainment of the final goal, yet it was only rarely and with
great restraint that he spoke of the condition o f blessedness
itself. H e frequently emphasized the fact that the blessed
ecstasy was granted to the nous in time o f prayer, and was
accompanied b y the phenomenon of light. 3 T h e light enabled
the soul to gaze on its o w n self, " a p p e a r i n g like a sapphire"
and see in it " G o d ' s p l a c e " , where G o d dwells in the illumined
nous.* T h e first commentator and his later followers, w h e n
dealing w i t h the mystic experience of light, w e r e very m u c h
more explicit, and loved to describe in detail w h a t the soul
might expect to see b y virtue of the divine light. It will be
recalled that Symeon gave expression to very similar ideas, 6
ideas w h i c h originated, not in theoretical considerations, but
in the vivid experiences of an ascetic in times of ecstasy.
Experiences of an entirely analogous kind are recorded in
connection with extra-Christian mysticism: both Plotinus and
Philo discussed them.®
Basil was another case in point, and was a m o n g those w h o
h a d seen light of that kind; 7 although there w o u l d have been
1 vide V o l . 2, 31 off.
2 Letter 62, p. 611 Cent. 7, 23. 29. 30. 43, pp. 443, 53, 55, 59, ed. Frankenberg
3 Cent. 7, 4, p. 427 7, 6, p. 429 7, 29, p. 453 7, 30, p. 455, Frankenberg
* ibid. 7, 28, p. 453, Frankenberg Pract. N o . 70. 71 M i g n e 40, 1244 cf.
N o . 36, p. 1232 Further details in Bousset, Apophtk. 318. 332 Holl, Enthusias-
mus u. Bussgewalt, 38-40. 181. 211
6 vide supra, 184ff.
6 Plotinus, Enn. 4, 8, 16, 99 cf. V o l . 3, 36f. re Philo, vide Bousset, Apophth.
332f-
" G r e g . N a z . or. 43 Migne gr. 46, 809c
198 6. MONASTICISM

no record of it except for Gregory of Nazianzus, who frequently

discussed ecstasy and the vision of God, 1 and who described
the kind of experience that his friend had had. Basil wrote
about such matters with great restraint in his various works;
his speeches and tracts on asceticism, of course, point out the
way to the goal of perfection, and do so with a sober dignity
of language; but they do not touch on the delicate secret of
the highest phase of the inner life. Yet the cogency and clarity
with which he wrote, and which reflected the strength of
character of an outstanding leader, meant that what are
known as the "Rules of Basil" afterwards became the text-
book for the Greek monastics. If the objects sought were
further and deeper experiences of a mystical character, they
were always accessible in discussion by other writers.
Four addresses of fundamental importance have come down
from Basil himself: on the nature, aim, and mode of organizing
the ascetic life. 2 In addition are his Detailed Rules under 55
heads and his Short Rules under 3 1 3 heads. They are in the
form of question and answer, but without any special arrange-
ment; and they discuss in penetrating fashion, not only the
basic problems of the monastic life, but also the numberless
incidental questions which arise in the day-to-day life of a1
cloistered community, together with all the searchings of
conscience and the minutiae of the practice of asceticism.
The Short Rules are in fact based on notes of the pastoral
conversations between Basil and the inmates of his monastery,
held by night during the hours set aside for meditation. 3
In the Moralia, it is as obvious as it is impressive that Basil
was a Biblical scholar trained in the school of Origen. He
presents a large number of the most varied questions of faith
and practical morals, states his own position in a few words,
and supports each instance with a quotation from Scripture.
Although the writing was not specifically intended for monks,
but was addressed to Christians as such, yet in effect it is a
single, forceful admonition in support of the ascetic life. Basil
did not adopt the current distinction between the ethics of a
1
K . Holl, Amphilochius, 2 0 5 - 7
2
For the problem of authenticity, cf. Holl. Enthusiasmus u. Bussgewalt, 157,
footnote 1; and regarding Basil, 1 5 6 - 7 0
3
Bas. reg. brev. proem, p. 4 1 3 c
 BASIL THE GREAT 199
Christian in the world, on the one hand, and, on the other,
a higher type striving for perfection. God's commandments
applied to all men, and were binding without exception. T h e
words, " y e shall be perfect", applied to every individual; and
no one was free to choose whether he would strive for perfec-
tion, or content himself with a lower degree of acceptable
righteousness. His only choice was whether he would set
himself the highest goal as a continent person, or live in the
married state. T h a t was the sole concession that G o d had
made to human weakness: He "forgave" the physical emotions
which arose in marriage. Once this was granted, all the rest
of the requirements were identical for both conditions of life;
and anyone who thought he could neglect certain command-
ments when carrying on the business of life in the world did
so at his own peril, and the peril was great and fearful. 1
It was possible to become perfect even in the world; but it
was very difficult, so difficult that it could almost be described
as impossible. 2 If a man would save his soul, let him lay hold
of the ascetic life: it would train him in keeping God's com-
mandments, all of which could and should be fulfilled. 3
Similarly to the first of Luther's Ninety-five Theses, there is a
stern echo in the saying: 4 This world is the place for repentance,
the next for retribution and reward. According to Matt.
22: 36-40, the first commandment had to do with our love
for G o d , the second with that for one's neighbour; and in
each case, the nucleus of the power necessary to keep it was
planted in our own nature. 6 But consider the facts: to love
G o d means to keep His likeness always in mind; to let the
whole o f one's thought be ruled by Him; and with this as a
source of power, to march out and fulfil the commandments,
which would imply breaking entirely free from the fetters
welded on us by this life and its passions. A man who accom-
plished that would, ipso facto, enter into another world, and
could n o longer remain as a prisoner in this world below. 6
T o love God meant to deny the world completely.

1 reS-f"s- prooem. 3. 4, p . 3 2 9 - 3 3 3 de renunt. sate. 1. 2, p . 2 0 2 d ~ 4 a

2 reg.fus. 6, p . 3441! moralia 2, 1, p . 2 3 6 c 3 mor. 8, 1, p . 240c!

4 reg.fuj. prooem. p . 327c!

8 reg.fus. 1. 2, p . 3 3 5 - 3 6 n a t u r a l s t a t e , 2, 1, p . 3 3 7 a a n d 3, 1, p . 340c
6 ibid. 5., 2, p. 342b, c
200 6. MONASTICISM

T h a t was not to be understood as meaning w e should follow

the path that led to the isolation of anchoritism, for side b y
side with the commandment to love G o d was that w h i c h bid
us love our neighbour; the t w o were inseparable, and each
h a d need of the other. 1 A n d it was a life lived in c o m m o n
with other ascetics that first m a d e it possible for us to c o m b i n e
repudiation of the world with an active, neighbourly love;
and, b y the submission of one's will to that of the spiritual
director, to develop the virtue of obedience; in one's attitude
to the brothers, humility, helpfulness, long-suffering, and all
the Christian virtues. Such a monastic c o m m u n i t y b e c a m e
w h a t Paul termed " a b o d y " , of w h i c h the head was Christ,
each m e m b e r being aware of serving H i m ; and in w h i c h the
p o w e r of the H o l y Spirit streamed out from a single person,
and enveloped all the others. 2 Such a cloister w o u l d also be a
source of blessing for those outside its circle; and m a n y a m a n
in need of spiritual support or some word of wisdom w o u l d
knock on the door and be given a friendly welcome. 3
In describing the ascetic w a y of life, Basil agreed w i t h
the main lines which Athanasius's Vita Antonii h a d m a d e
traditional. H e also shared the view that the repudiation of
the world and the surrender of all possessions was the first
step in the warfare against every earthly passion; and that the
goal was the recovery of the lost image of G o d . O n l y b y
recovering this image, and with it the original beauty of
creation, was it possible to attain eternal salvation. Those w h o
w a n t e d to live the discarnate life of the angels and, like them,
see G o d continuously face to face, must march forth beyond
the c o m m o n ruck of mankind. 4
T h e directions for practical life begin b y prescribing rules
for a novice's first steps under the guidance of an older
teacher; 6 they go on to a comprehensive set of regulations for
the whole of the monastic life, in both forms of the rules.
Basil set the greatest value on a president w h o acted as a
monarchical ruler in the strict sense of the term, and who thus
led the community; he was to function in God's place regarding

1 reg.fus. 3, 1 . 2 , p. 340b-d 2 ibid. 7, 2, p. 346c-e

3 ibid. 45, 1, p. 392a cf. reg. brev. 97, p. 449c
4 sermo ascet. 1, 1, p. 3i8f. 1, 2, p. 320a, b 6 de renunt. saec. 2 - 4 , p. 204-5
 BASIL THE GREAT 201

both the outer and the inner details of the monks' lives; he
would also be their example in every respect.1 Common
prayer at the stated hours was a duty. Basil reached the seven
canonical hours in the following way: he adopted the six
customary hours of matins, tierce, sext, nones, vespers, mid-
night, and divided the mid-day prayers (sext) into one portion
before and one after the meal. 2 However, in another passage,
he increased the number of hours to eight. In this case, there
was but one prayer at mid-day, but a night prayer was intro-
duced between midnight and dawn: the matutin, "at the first
cockcrow", which is also recorded elsewhere;3 then, in addition
to vespers, which was observed on the completion of the day's
work, another prayer was introduced at dusk and before
retiring for the night, at which Psalm 91 was recited. 4 In the
prescriptions which he laid down for the reception of novices,
Basil showed that ho had a clear understanding of the practical
questions involved; and it is highly instructive to read how
grave were the warnings he uttered against a hasty and
unconsidered parting with one's earthly possessions; and how
he points out the dangers to which it may lead, e.g. unedifying
arguments and even lawsuits. s Runaway slaves were not
received in, 6 nor was a married person unless he or she was
in a position to testify before several witnesses that the other
spouse was agreeable. 7 Children were to be received no matter
what their age: orphans without more ado, but others only
when given over by their parents in the presence of witnesses.
All children were to be looked after and trained apart from
the adults, and even provided with a higher education. When
they were old enough to reach decisions for themselves, they
were to exercise their own freedom of choice whether to
dedicate themselves to the monastic life, or go out into the
world. In the latter case, they must make their choice in the
presence of witnesses.8 A monk who did not wish to return to
the world, but who wished to leave the community in order

1 sermo ascet. I, 3, p. 32of. 2, 2, p. 324^ reg.fus. 43, p. 389^

2 de renunt. saec. 8, p. 209c sermo ascet. I, 4, p. 32if. 3 vide Vol. 3, 3041".
* sermo ascet. 1, 4, p. 321, reckons seven hours reg.fus. 37, 3-5, p. 383^ reckons
eight hours
6 reg.fus. 9, 1 - 2 , p. 35 i f . « ibid. 1 1 , p . 353 7 ibid. 12, p. 354
8 ibid. 15, p. 355-57
202 6. MONASTICISM

the better to be able to profit his own soul—of which Euagrius

Ponticus was an example—must explain his reasons to the
leading persons of the cloister, and then, with their agreement
shown in front of witnesses, he could take his departure. 1
Considerable insight is shown by Basil in what he has to say
about the supervision and administration of an ascetical
community, and about the self-denials or the penalties which
may be imposed. As compared with the radical character of
many of the injunctions on which Symeon of Mesopotamia
laid stress, there is much that is very satisfying in Basil's warm
defence of the art of medicine with which he concluded his
Detailed Rules. 2
All these directions and discussions reveal the quality of
Basil, and show that he was a man trained in the Greek
tradition and in Origen's religious attitude. H e showed the
freshness of youth in his loyalty to his group; he seized with
all his might on the revelation of God vouchsafed by the
Greek tradition of Christianity, and he strove to preserve it in
all its fullness. T h e Greek church, in her turn, showed her
sense of obligation to him; for she adopted his Rules universally,
and has preserved them to the present day as the main
principles of monastic life in the Orthodox form of Christianity.
1 reg. fus. 36, p. 381 2 vide supra, 184 rcg.fus. 55, p. 397-401

Here ends the manuscript as Hans Lietzmann left it at his

death on June 25, 1942.
 Literature

and original authorities cited in abbreviated form in the

foregoing pages; the lists given in the preceding volumes are
not repeated here.
Aphrahat, cited in the edition by J . Parisot in the Patrologia
Syriaca, i, 1-2, Paris, 1894-1907.
Apophthegmata Patrum, vide supra, p. 140, footnote 5.
Athanasius: H. Fromien, Athanasii historia acephala, Phil,
dissertation, Münster, 1 9 1 5 ; F. Larsow, Die Festbriefe d. hi.
A., Bischofs v. Alex, aus dem Syrischen Übersetzt, Leipzig,
1852; A.'s vita Antonii, ed. Montfaucon, Vol. 1, 2 (1698);
vide supra, 162, footnote 7.
Augustine: The works cited are, De opere monachorum,
Retractationes, De peccatorum mentis et remissione, as given
in Corp. Script. Eccl. Lat.: Vols. 4 1 , 36, and 60. The
Confessiones are cited according to Skutella, Leipzig,
1934-
Basil is cited from the Benedictine edition by J . Gamier and
Pr. Maran, Paris, 1721-30, 3 vols, (the letters in
Vol. I l l , and the ascetical writings in Vol. II).
Campenhausen, Hans von, Ambrosius von Mailand als Kirchen-
politiker, Berlin, 1929 (Arb. z- Kirchengesch. 12).
Canons of the Councils, if Labbe is not cited (vide Vol. I I ,
318) then cf. H. Bruns, Canones Apostolorum et Conciliorum,
Vol. I, Berlin, 1839; Fr. Lauchert, Die Kanones der
wichtigsten altkirchlichen Konzilien, Leipzig, 1898.
Cassianus, John, ed. by Petschenig in Corp. Script. Eccl. Lat.,
Vols. X I I I and X V I I , Vienna, 1886-88.
Chronicon Edessenum cited from Guidi's edition in Corp. Script.
Christ. Orientalium, script. Syri I I I , Vol. I V , Paris, 1904.
Claudianus, ed. by Th. Wirt, Berlin, 1892 (Monum. Germaniae,
Auct. antiqu. Vol. X ) .
Codex Theodosianus, ed. T h . Mommsen and P. M. Meyer,
Berlin, 1905.
204 THE ERA OF THE CHURCH FATHERS

Coustant, Pierre, Epistolae Romanorum Pontificum, Paris, 1721.

Cyril of Jerusalem cited in the edition b y W . Reischl and
J . R u p p , Munich, 1848-60, 2 vols.
Digesta in the stereotype ed. of Corpus Iuris, by T h . Mommsen
and P. Krüger, V o l . I, Berlin, 1911.
Epiphanius cited from edition b y K . Holl, Leipzig, 1915fr.
(In the Berlin corpus, Vols. 25, 31, 37.)
Facundus, Pro defensione trium capitulorum, ed. J . Sirmond,
Paris, 1629 (followed b y Migne Lat. 67, 527fr.).
Gaius, Institutiones, edd. P. K r ü g e r and W. Studemund,
Berlin, 1905 (Collectio librorum juris antejustiniani, V o l . I).
Gennadius, small edition b y C . A . Bernoulli, Hieronymus und
Gennadius, De viris inlustribus, Freiburg, 1895.
Gregory of Nazianzus, cited from the Benedictine edition,
V o l . I (The speeches), Paris, 1778, V o l . II, 1840.
Gregory of Nyssa, Contra Eunomium, ed. W . Jaeger, Berlin,
1921, 2 vols.
Heussi, Karl, Der Ursprung des Mönchtums, Tübingen, 1936.
Holl, Karl, Enthusiasmus und Bussgewalt beim Griechischen
Mönchtum, Leipzig, 1898. Amphilochius von Ikonium,
Tübingen, 1904.
Iordanis Romana et Getica, rec. T h . Mommsen, Berlin, 1882
(Monum. Germaniae Auct. Antiqu., V o l . V , 1).
Jerome, complete edition, by D . Vallarsi, Verona, 1 7 3 4 ^ ,
11 vols. Letters, ed. J . Hilberg, in Corp. Script. Eccl. Lat.,
54-56, i g i o f f . The Chronicle, ed. R . Helm in V o l . V I I
(2 parts) of the edition of Eusebius in the Berlin Corpus
(Vol. X X I V and X X X I V ) , Leipzig, 1913-26.
K o c h , Hugo, Quellen zur Geschichte der Askese und des Mönchtums
in der alten Kirche, Tübingen, 1933.
Maximini disseriatio contra Ambrosium, ed. Fr. K a u f f m a n n ,
Aus der Schule des Wulfila, V o l . I, Strassburg, 1899.
Namatianus, Rutilius Cl., De reditu suo, ed. L . Müller,
Leipzig, 1870.
Pacatus in Duodecim Panegyrici Latini, ed. Guil. Baehrens,
Leipzig, 1911.
 LITERATURE 205
Pachomius, vide supra, 142, footnotes 3 and 4.
Palladius, Hist. Lausiaca, vide supra, 150, footnote 3, and
153, footnote 7.
Paulinus,' Vita Ambrosii, in the Benedictine edition of Ambrose,
V o l . I, Paris, 1686.
Photius, Bibliotheca, ed. J . Bekker, Berlin, 1824.
Possidius, Vita Augustini, Benedictine edition of the works
of Augustine, V o l . X (Paris, 1690), Appendix, 257fr.
Priscillian, edition by G . Schepss, in Corp. Script. Eccl. Lat.,
V o l . X V I I I , Vienna, 1889.
Rauschen, Gerhard, Jahrbücher der Christlichen Kirche unter dem
Kaiser Theodosius d. Grossen, Freiburg, 1897.
Reitzenstein, Richard, Historia Monachorum, and Historia
Lausiaca, Eine Studie zur Geschichte des Mönchtums
und der frühchristlichen Begriffe Gnostiker und Pneu-
matiker, Göttingen, 1916. (Cited as Studie.)
Rufinus, Church History, ed. T h . Mommsen in the large edition
of Eusebius's Church History, ed. E. Schwartz, Leipzig,
1903fr., 3 vols, (in the Berlin Corpus). T h e history of
Monasticism ( = H i s t . mon.) vide supra, 150, footnote 2.
Seeck, Otto, edition of Q u . Aurelius Symmachus, Berlin,
1883, (Monum. Germaniae Auct. Antiqu., Vol. V I , 1).
Sulpicius Severus, ed. C . Halm, Vienna {Corp. Script. Eccl.
Lat., V o l . I).
Theodoret, Complete edition, ed. Schulze-Noesselt, Halle,
1769-74, 5 vols. T h e historia religiosa in Vol. I I I .
Tillemont, Seb. L e Nain de, Mémoires pour servir à l'Histoire
ecclésiastique des six premiers siècles, Paris, 1693fr., 16 vols.
Turner, C. H . Ecclesiae occidentalis monumenta iuris antiquissimi,
2 vols., Oxford, 1899-1939.
Wessel, Carolus, Inscriptiones graecae christianae, Berlin, 1950.
Zosimus, Historia, ed. L . Mendelssohn, Leipzig, 1887.
 SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING

The following general works may be consulted: L . Duchesne, Early

History of the Christian Church, vol. ii (1922); B. J . Kidd, A History
of the Church to A.D. 461, vol. ii (1922); Cambridge Medieval History,
vol. i The Christian Empire ( 1 9 1 1 ) , which has useful bibliographies
of the older literature.
For theology and dogmatics, see J . F. Bethune-Baker, An Introduc-
tion to the Early History of Christian Doctrine to the time of the Council of
Chalcedon (eighth edition, 1949); J . Tixeront, History of Dogmas,
vol. ii (St. Louis, Mo., second edition, 1926); A. Harnack, History
of Dogma, Eng. tr. vols, iv-v; G. L . Prestige, Fathers and Heretics
(1940).
Good articles on many of the characters in this period are to be
found in the Dictionary of Christian Biography, edited by W. Smith
and H. Wace (1877-87).
For credal developments, see J . N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds
(1950); J . F. Bethune-Baker, The Meaning of Homoousios in the
Constantinopolitan Creed (Texts and Studies, vii. 1, 1901).
On Ambrose, Chrysostom, and the problem of Church and State,
see F. Homes Dudden, The Life and Times of St. Ambrose (1935);
K . M. Setton, The Christian Attitude to the Emperor in the Fourth Century
(New York, 1941); C. N. Cochrane, Christianity and Classical Culture
(1940).

Monasticism
G. Butler, The Lausiac History of Palladius (Texts and Studies,
vi. 1-2, 1898-1904); W. O. Chadwick, John Cassian (1950); W. K . L .
Clarke, St. Basil the Great (1913); R . N. Flew, The Idea of Perfection
(1934); J . O. Hannay, The Spirit and Origin of Christian Monasticism
(1903); K . E. Kirk, The Vision of God (1931); E. F. Morison, St. Basil
and his Rule (1912); E. White, History of the Monasteries of Nitria and
of Scete (New York, 1932); H. B. Workman, The Evolution of the
Monastic Ideal (1913).

Translations
A. J . Mason, Fifty Spiritual Homilies of St. Macarius the Egyptian
(1921), translates the 'Messalian' homilies. W. K . L. Clarke has
translated Gregory of Nyssa's Life of St. Macrina (1916), The Lausiac
History of Palladius (1918), and The Ascetic Works of St. Basil (1925).
Chrysostom's Homilies on the Statues and on the New Testament
are in the Oxford Library of the Fathers (1841 ff.). Works of Ambrose,
Basil, Gregory of Nazianzus, Gregory of Nyssa, Jerome, Rufinus,
Cassian, Sulpicius Severus, Cyril of Jerusalem, and Athanasius, are
translated in the Nicene and Post-Mcene Fathers (Oxford and New
 SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING 207

York, second series, 1890 ff.). Basil's letters are also available in the
Loeb Classical Library, translated by R . J . Deferrari; Athanasius's
Life of Antony is also translated by R . T . Meyer (Ancient Christian
Writers, vol. 10, Westminster, Maryland, 1950). Augustine's de Opere
Monachorum is in the Oxford Library of the Fathers, vol. xxii (1847).
Palladius' Life of Chrysostom is translated by H. Moore (1921).

The Byzantine World

On the culture and piety of the East Roman world see also
N. H. Baynes, The Hellenistic Civilization and East Rome (1946), and
The Thought World of East Rome (1947). Contemporary biographies
of Byzantine saints are translated with notes by E. Dawes and
N. H. Baynes, Three Byzantine Saints (1948). In general see N. H.
Baynes and H. St. L . B. Moss, Byzantium (1948), with bibliographies
there.
 INDEX

Mostly of proper names and of important items not mentioned in the

Table of Contents.

A B B A , MONASTIC T I T L E , F R 9 M T H E S Y R LAC, Arbogast mag. mil., 85, 91 ff.

163 Arcadius, emperor, 84
Acacius of Caesarea, Acaconites, 14, 17, Ariminum, 14. See Rimini.
22 Arius, Arianism, 13fr., 18, 24, 29, 36f.,
Acanthia, wife of Kynegius, 86 4°. 47» 5°> 52, 57f-, 6of., 62f., 78,
Acholius of Thessalonica, 44 81,83, " a f .
Aetheria, 164 Armenia, 21
Africa, 19, 27, 50, 62, 65, 113, 178 Arsenios, monk, 139
Agapt, 139 Asceticism (Priscillian's), 71, 75
Agathon, monk, 155 early Christian, 128
Akoimetai, I 7 i f . , 175 monastic, i5of., i8of., 1 g8f.; re food, 120
Alans, 32ff., 68 sexual, Vide Marriage.
Alexander the Akoimete, 1 7 1 , 175 Asia Minor, 2 1 , 1 6 8 , 173, 193
Alexandria, I3ff., 25, 41, 42, 45, 64f., 90, Athanarich, Gothic prince, 32, 36, 167
Athanasius, 13flf., 17fr., 2if., 24f., 38, 53,
134. 152
91» 183
Alms, 116
Ambrose of Milan, 5 7 - 6 7 , 70-72, 74-82, vita Antonii, 134fr., 1 6 1 , 177, 183, 200
84ff., 92-96, 179, 181 A u d i (Audians), i67f.
Ammianus Marcellinus, 52 Augustine, 49, 82, 100, 176, 178
Amphilochius of Iconium, 168 Aurelius of Carthage, 179
A m u n , monk, I38f., i53f. Ausonius, 38f., 68
Anastasia, church in Constantinople, Auxentius of Milan, 16, 21, 24, 53, 57
39ff- (Mercurinus), 81
Anchorites, J24fT.
Ancyra, 15, 21 BABAI, COMMENTATOR ON EUAGRIUS
Andragathius, mag. equ., 70 PONTICUS, 1 9 5
Anemius of Sirmium, 61 Bannus, ascetic, 132
Anhomoians, 16 Baptism, ggf., 102, I07f., 166
Anna, prophetess, 132 Baptismal Creed, 98, 103
Antioch, i3ff., i8f., 22, 25, 38, 42, 43f., Baradatos, monk, 170
89, 1 ioff., 115ff., 1 72ff. Barnabas, epistle of, 129
(Caria), 19, 22, 59 Basil, of Ancyra, 14
Antony, monk, 133ff-, I37f-, 163, 177 of Caesarea, 20-31, 37fr., 47, 168,
Aotas, monk, 142 i73<"-> 193, i97ff-
A p a m e a , 86, 104 (monastic rules), 179, i88ff.
Aphrahat, I30n., 166 Bassus Junius, 100
Apocrypha, 72, 130 Bauto mag. mil., 70, 78
Apollinaris of Laodicea and Apollin- Beroea, 22
arians, 15, 27, 29, 31, 38, 67, 183 Bible (knowledge of, and spread), 104,
Apollos, monk, 159 113,117fr.
Apophthegmata Patrum, I3gff., 150, I53ff., use in the monasteries, 138, 140, 143,
i82f., 195 144, I53f., 156, I94f., 196, 198
Apostates (Renegades), 36, 69 Bishoprics, change of, 27, 30
Apostles, Church of, in Constantinople, Bithynia, 20
142. 175 Bonosus, the priest, 50
Applause in church, i l l , 117
Aquileia, 6iff., 64, 176 C A E S A R I U S mag. off., 118
Aquilinus vicarius, 55 Canossa, g5f.
 I N D E X 209
Cappadocia, 20; (theology), 47, 193 Eleutheropolis, 50
Capraia, colony of monks, 178 Emperor, status in the church, 77f., 8if.,
Carthage, 179 86, 94t
Cassian, John, 165, 168, 177, 179 style of, 68
Castor, monk, 177 Encratites, 165
Catechism, catechumens, loof. Ephesius, Luciferite, 50
Cellia, 138 Epiphanius of Salamis, 27, 153, 164
Christology, I04f., Ii2f., i8g. Cf. Jesus. Eschatology, 105, 156, 189
Church, io6f. Essenes, 128, 132
attendance at, 1 1 0 Euagrius, of Antioch, 177, 179
among monastics, 139, 1 5 1 , 158, 189, Ponticus, I93f., 202
igif. Roman priest, 26
Clement of Alexandria, 1 3 1 , 196 Eucharist, I58f., i86f.
Cloisters (monasteries, nunneries) Eucherius of Lyons, 177
Africa, 178f. Eudoxius of Constantinople, 17, 19
Asia Minor, 173, 193 Eugenius, 92, 94
Constantinople, 174 Eunomius, 20, 36
Egypt, 1 4 1 , I47f., 194 Euodius praef. praet. Gall., 75
Gaul, 176f. Eusebians, 48
Italy, I79f. Eusebius of Caesarea (Cappadocia), 20
Syria, 169 (Palestine), 1 5
Cloisters, rules and regulations for of Samosata, 14, 26, 28
Augustine, 178 Eustathius of Sebaste, 18, 22, 29fr., 37,
Basil, 179, I98ff. '73
Pachomius, I42ff., 179f. Eustochium, pilgrim, 165
And see Monasticism, monks, etc. Euzoius of Antioch, 25
Confessions, private, 120 Exorcism, i o i f . , 106
Constantine, 36, 52, 96, 100
Constantinople, 17, 38f., 172, 174, 193 F A B I O L A , NUN, I 7 8
council of, 43f., 61 Faith, 103
precedence of, 45 Fasts, 128
Constantius, 16, 2 1 , 38, 50, 52, 69 Faustinus, Luciferite, 51
Continence, I2 7f. Felix of Rome, 51
Cordova, 71
Flavian of Antioch, 45, 65f., 89, 1 1 5 , 1 1 8 ,
Corfu, 13
168
Cultus, 68f., 76ff„ 88, 90, 93, 108 Flavianus praef. praet., 93f.
Cynics, I26f. Frithigern, Gothic prince, 32f., 36
Cyprian of Carthage, 72
Cyril of Jerusalem, 66, j o i f f . GAIUS, ARIAN, 5 2
DAEMONS, DEMONS, 106, 108, HI, 122, Galatia, 20
l6l 1 Galla, empress, 83, 95
154. > 95> '96 Gaul, 1 9 , 2 5 , 26, 59, 62,65,6gf., 92, i76f.
Dalmatius, monk, 174f. Gangra, 173
Damasus of Rome, 24, 26-30, 37f., 44, George of Alexandria, 21
5 I - 5 5 > 57» 6>> 6 3 f -» 67, 69, 73ff., Germinius of Sirmium, 52
180 Gervase, St., 82
Demophilus of Constantinople, 38, 41 Gnosis, 74
Demosthenes, royal chef, 20
Devil (Satan), 166, i84ff. God, doctrine of, I03f., 1 1 2
Didache, 129 Goths, igf., 32f., 35f., 6of., 62, 78, 167
Dioceses, constitution of, 45f. Grace, io2f., 107, 1 2 1 , i84f., 187
Donatists, 37, 54, 178 Grades, Book of, 1 go
Dorotheus, cleric, 23, 26, 29 Gratian, emperor, 33, 3 5 - 3 8 , 55-62,
Dualism, 74, 103, 128 68ff., 74, 76, 92
Gregory of Alexandria, 21
ECSTASY, 1 5 6 , i 8 6 f f . , 1 9 1 , 1 9 7 of Elvira, 50
Edessa, 13, 86, 167 of Nazianzus, 2 1 , 3 9 ^ , 4 5 ^ , 4 7 , 6 4 , 1 7 3 ,
Egypt, 22, 36, 43f., 50, 85, 90, 133, I47ff., 193» ' 9 8
194 of Nyssa, 2 1 , 47
210 I N D E X

G r e g o r y of T h a u m a t u r g o s , 183 L a w s , edicts of the emperor re religion,

i6f., 36f., 4 i f . , 55f., 59, 69, 8 1 , 85,
H E A T H E N , O R P A G A N , STATUS O F , 4 7 , 6 8 f . , 8 9 f , 169, i 8 i f .
76ff., 84ff., 88, 90, 93f. L e o I of R o m e , 179
H e l e n a , empress, 96 Leontius of S a l o n a , 6 1 , 63
Helvidius, e n e m y of monks, 180 L e r i n u m , Cloister, 177
Heretics, 59, 168. C f . O r t h o d o x y . L i b a n i u s , 86, 1 i8f.
H i l a r i ó n , m o n k , 163 Libellus precum, 51
H i l a r y of Poitiers, 50, 72, 1 7 6 Liber graduum, 189fr.
Historia Lausiaca, i$of. L i b e r i u s of R o m e , i8f., 22, 5 i f .
monachorum, 150 L i g h t , mystic, i86ff., 197. C f . also M y s t i -
H o m o i a n s , 2of., 5 i f . , 8 i , 104 cism.
Homoiousians, 15, 17, 2rf., 59 L o g o s , doctrine of, 40, 112
Homoousios, 18, 2 1 , 24, 47, 59, 1 1 2 L u c i f e r of Calaris, 5of., 54
H o n o r a t u s , m o n k , 177 L u c i u s , m o n k , 154
H o n o r i u s , 84, 96, 181 of A l e x a n d r i a , 18, 25, 3 1 - 4 1
H o u r s of prayer, 201 L u p i c i n u s comes, 33
H u n s , 32f.
MACEDONIANS, 43, 59
H y g i n u s , Priscillianist, 72, 73 M a c e d o n i u s mag. off., 74
H y p a t i a n of H e r a c l e a , 16 M a g i c , 73, 108, 1 1 4
H y p a t i u s , m o n k , 172, 1 7 5 M a g n u s comes sacr. larg., 25
Hypostasis, 27, 28, 47, 66, 104 M a k a r i u s of A l e x a n d r i a , 138, 194
the E g y p t i a n , 139, 154, 159, 183, 194
IGNATIUS, 129
M a n i c h e a n s , 36, 74, 103, 169, 182
I l l y r i a , Illyrians, 16, 52f., 57, 6of., 63, 78,
M a r c e l l a , ascetic, 176
81
M a r c e l l i n a , sister of A m b r o s e , 79, 8 2
Impassibility, 136, 151 f., 196 Marcellinus, priest, 51
I n c a r n a t i o n , 27?., 2g, 31, 66, 189 Marcellus, A k o i m e t e , 175
Instantius, Priscillianist, 73, 75 of A n c y r a , 29, 3 1 , 46
I s a a c , accuser of D a m a s u s , 54, 5 6 of A p a m e a , 86
monk, 174 Marcionites, 129fr.
I t a l y , 25, 26, 179 M a r m o u t i e r , cloister of, 176
I t h a c i u s of Ossonoba, 74 M a r r i a g e , 125, 129, 165, 173, 180, 199
spiritual marriage, 129
J E R O M E , 1 3 8 , 1 4 2 , I63FF., 1 7 6 , 1 7 8 , 179ff.
M a r t i n of Tours, 75, 176fr.
J e r u s a l e m , 101, 105, 110, 164, 194
M a r t y r s , 121 ff.
Jesus, i24f., 152
M a r y , worship of, 180, 181
John, Akoimete, 175
M a x i m i n u s , bishop, 63
Cassian. See Cassian.
vicarius, 54, 56
Chrysostom, 11 off., H 5 Í f . , 1 1 8 , 150
M a x i m u s , anti-bishop at Constantinople,
m o n k , 170
4 1 , 43fr., 64fr., 66
the Baptist, 124, 132
the usurper, 6gf., 75, 83f., 85
Jonas, Abbot, 175
Melanius, the ascetic, 165, 176, 194
Josephus, Flavius, 132
Meletius of A n t i o c h , 14, 17, 2 1 - 3 0 , 37ff-,
J o v i a n , emperor, I3ff., 50
4 1 - 4 5 , 6 1 , 66
J o v i n i a n , monk, i8off.
o f L y c o p o l i s , 148, 152
J u d a i s m , 87, 1
Mercurinus. See Auxentius.
J u l i a n , emperor, 13f., i6f., 20, 9 1 , 94, 163 M e s o p o t a m i a , 130, 168
J u l i a n u s V a l e n s of Pettau, 62f. Messalians, i68f., 172, 183, 189, 190, 193,
J u l i u s of R o m e , 183 196
J u s t i n M a r t y r , 165
Migrations. See V ö l k e r w a n d e r u n g .
J u s t i n a , empress, 6 1 , 68ff., 8of., 83
M i l a n , 21, 62, 177f., 179, 181
KALLINIKUM, 87 churches in, 7gf., 82
K a t o c h o i , 132 M i r a c l e , 135f., i6off.
K y n e g i u s praef. praet., 86 Modestus praef. praet., 20
And see u n d e r C . Monarchianism, 49
Monastic rules; cloisters, rules and r e g u l -
LAMPSACUS, 17 ations, see Cloisters
 INDEX 211

Monks and monasticism, 39, 86, 90, i t 8 , Philo, 128, 133, 197
121, I24ff., 138 Philosopher = monk, 132, 136
decrees of state, 90, 134, I72f., i 8 i f . Photinus, Photinians, 36, 62
non-Christian, 132 Physicians (in monasteries), 161, 184, 202
their religion, I4gff., 1838". Pilgrimages, i47f., 150, i64f.
Montanism, I2gf., 140 Pillar-saints, i 7 o f f .
Mosul, 166 Plotinus, 197
Mystery-religion, modes of, 98, iogf., 112, Pneumatics, i2g, 140, I55f., I5gf.
1 '9 Pneumatomachoi, 22f., 43, 46, 60
Mysticism, i84f., i8gf., ig6f. Poimen, monk, 139
Pontifex maximus, 68
N a t r o n V a l l e y , i 38ff. Prayer, 154, 185, 187, 189, 201
Neighbourly love, 183, 192, iggf., (181) Preaching, 100, 11 of., 115f.
Neonicenes, 2 i f . Priests in the monasteries, I45f., I5gf-
Nektarius of Constantinople, 45, 65f., 194 Priscillian, Priscillianists, 7of., 72ff., 178
Nicea, 167 Procopius, usurper, 18, igf.
Nicene Creed, 14, 16, 18, 21, 248"., 27, Protasius, St., 82
37ff., 46, 52f., 58f., 63, 66, 69, 111 Psychics, 130
Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, 46 Ptolemaeos Philadelphos, 114
Nike, 17, 34 Punishments for monks, 139, 146
Nitria, 138, 152, 194, 196 Pythagoras, 136
Novationites, 85
Nunneries, 149. See under Cloisters.
RELATIO AD PRINCIPEM, 56
ORIGEN, 21, 48, 131, 152, I94f., ig7f., 202 Relics, 122
Orphics, 128 Religion, imperial, laws for. See L a w s .
O r t h o d o x y , 37, 42, g i , 152 Repentance, 101, 107, 120, i g i , 199
Ossius of C o r d o v a , 50 Resurrection, 106
Ousia, 27, 28, 42, 47, 112 Rheims, 18
O x y r h y n c h u s , 50, 148 Rimini, A r i m i n u m , 14, 16, 18, 24
R o m e , 23, 25, 29, 37, 42, 45, 5 1 , 76ff.
P a c a t u s , R h e t o r , 84 179, i8of.
Pachomius, 133, I 4 i f . , 146, 148, 157, aristocracy, 84f., 90, g3, 165, 176
160, 179 churches, 51
P a l a m o n , monk, 1418". pre-eminence of, 55
Palestine, 46, i63ff. Rufinus of Aquileia, 150, 165, 176, 179
Palladius of Helenopolis, 150, 164^ praef. praet., 91
of R a t i a r i a , 6ofT. Rumoridus mag. mil., 78
P a l m y r a , 172
P a m b o , monk, 139 S a b e l l i a n s , 28, 36
P a u l a , pilgrim, 165 Sabinus, deacon, 25
Paul, apostle, 71, I25ff., 182 Sacramental religion, g8, I07f., n g
o f S c e t i s , 154 Sacraments in monasticism, 138, 158^,
of T h e b e s , 138 189,191
the simple, monk, 139 Salvian, Priscillianist, 73
Paulinus, biographer of Ambrose, g5 Sanctissimus, 28f.
of A n t i o c h , 23f., 28f., 31, 38, 43ff., 64!?. Sapor mag. mil., 38
of N o l a , 1 76 Satornilus, 130
Perfection, 126, 129 Scetis, 138, 193
a m o n g laymen, 102, 107, 110, I20f., School lessons in cloisters, 20if.
i88f. Secundianus of Singidunum, 62
a m o n g monastics, 120, 135f., i83f., Serapeum, 90
187f., igof., 196 Sermon on the Mount, 120, 152, 183, 186
relation between both, I28f., i3of., 166, Services held by monks, 145
i8gf., igoff., 198I". Side, 168
Persian w a r (a.d. 370), 20 Silvanus, monk, 157
Peter, apostle, 37 of Tarsus, 18
of A l e x a n d r i a , 23, 25, 29, 37, 41, 44, 64 Sin, wickedness, 155, 184
of A l e x a n d r i a , martyr, 134 Singidunum, 52, 62
212 INDEX

Siricius of R o m e , 8 3 , 1 8 1 T a t i a n , apologist, 165

S i r m i u m , 36, 5 7 , 59IT., 62 consul, 85fr., 91
Sisoes, monk, 1 3 9 Taxes, 1 1 5
Smyrna, 18 T e m p l e s , destruction of, 86, g o f f .
Sozomen, 1 6 3 Terentius comes, 28
S p a i n , S p a n i a r d , 69, 1 1 3 , 1 7 8 T h a l e l a i o s , monk, 1 7 0
Spirit, homoousia of the H o l y , 2 1 , 24f., 2gf., Thebes, I44n.
38,42,47,53,106 Themistius, 1 3
Spiritual gifts, 7 1 , 1 8 5 ^ , 1 9 1 T h e o d o r e , abbot, 1 5 0
State-church, 46, 69, 7 7 f f . , 8of., 88f., 97 of P a b a u , 1 5 6
Stilicho, 96 Theodoret, i6gf., 1 7 1
Studios, monastery, 1 7 6 Theodosius I , 35fr., 4of., 5 1 , 57, 5 9 , 6 i f . ,
Sulpicius Severus, 1 7 7 6 3 , 64, 67, 6 8 f f . , 7 7 , 8af., 8 6 f f . ,
Syagrius praef. praet., 62 91 ff., 94fr., 96, 1 1 5
S y m e o n of M e s o p o t a m i a , 1 6 8 , i 8 3 f f . , 1 9 5 , Theophilus of K a s t a b a l a , 1 8
202 Therapeutae, 128, 1 3 3
Stylites, i 7 o f f . Thessalonika, 88f., 1 1 5
S y m m a c h u s praef. urbis, 76 T i m o t h y of A l e x a n d r i a , 44
Symposius, Priscillianist, 73 T r ê v e s , 50, 59, 70, 75, 1 7 7
Synods T r i n i t y , doctrine of, 2 1 , 2 7 , 3 7 , 42, 4 7 f f . ,
A l e x a n d r i a , (A.D. 362), I4F., 2 2 , 24, 2 7 , I03f., 1 1 2 , 1 9 4
4 7 ; (A.D. 364), 1 4 Tritheism, 48f.
A n c y r a , (A.D. 3 5 8 ) , 1 5 , 2 1 Tyana, 19
Antioch, (A.D. 3 4 1 ) , 1 7 , 1 9 ; (A.D. 364),
I4f-. ' 9 ! (A-D- 379). 38» 66 U R S A C I U S OF SINGIDUNUM, 2 4 , 5 2
in C a r i a , (A.D. 366), 19, 22, 59 Ursinus, R o m a n anti-bishop, 5 i f . , 5 4 , 6 3
Aquileia, (A.D. 3 8 1 ) , 6 i f f . , 63fT. U s i a . See Ousia.
A r i m i n u m or R i m i n i , (A.D. 3 5 8 ) , 1 4 ,
1 6 , 1 8 , 24, 50, 5 3 , 6 1 , 81 V A L E N S , EMPEROR, 15FR., I 7 F . , 3 2 f f . , 36,
B o r d e a u x , 75 58ff., 174
C a e s a r a u g u s t a , (A.D. 380), 65 of M u r s a , 24, 52
Constantinople, (A.D. 360), 1 7 ; (A.D. V a l e n t i n i a n I , 1 5 f r . , 1 8 , 24, 26, 3 3 , 3 5 ,
3 8 1 ) , 4 3 f f . , 59, 6 i f . , 64; (A.D. 3 8 2 ) , 50, 52» 5 5 . 57f-, 8off.
44f., 64f. I I , 58, 70, 7 6 f f . , 8 3 , 91
G a n g r a , (A.D. 3 4 3 ? ) , 1 7 3 Valentinians, 87, 1 3 0
L a m p s a c u s , (A.D. 364), V a l e r i a n of A q u i l e i a , 2 5
Latopolis, 1 5 7 V i c t o r comes, 70
N i c e a , (A.D. 3 2 5 ) , 1 6 7 . C f . N i c e n e V i c t o r y , altar of, 6g, 76fr.
Creed. Visions, 1 5 6 , i 8 6 f f .
N i k e , (A.D. 3 5 9 ) , 1 7 Vitalis of Antioch, 27
R o m e , 52F.; (A.D. 3 7 2 ) , 24; (A.D. 3 7 7 ) , Viventius praef. urbis, 5 1
29; (A.D. 3 7 8 ) , 54FF.; (A.D. 382), Völkerwanderung, 3 2 f . , 36
65f. Volventius, 7 5
Seleukia, (A.D. 3 5 9 ) , 1 4 , 1 7 , 61
Serdika, (A.D. 3 4 2 ) , 56 W E A L T H , ATTITUDE TO, 1 1 6 , 124, i26f.,
Side, i68f. 200
S i n g i d u n u m , (A.D. 366), 52 Will, 1 0 1 , i o 7 f . , n g f . , 1 2 1 , i 3 6 f . , 1 5 1 f.,
S i r m i u m (A.D. 3 7 7 ? ) , 58, SGF. 1 8 4 f r , 189
S m y r n a , (A.D. 3 6 5 ) , 1 8 Wulfila, 3 2 , 6 3 , 81
T y a r i a , (A.D. 366), 1 9
X Y S T U S I OF R O M E , 179
Syria, i62n., 1 6 5 - 7 2 , 190, 193
YDACIUS OF M E R I D A , 7 3 fr.
TABENNISI, I 4 I F . , 147
Tarsus, 19 ZOSIMUS OF N A P L E S , 50