Chrysostom was welcomed, on his return to Constantinople, with hearty demonstrations of joy. On the following day he was at his post in the cathedral, and once more addressing his beloved flock. In somewhat rapturous language he expresses his thankfulness at learning that their fidelity to the Church, and their attachment to their spiritual father, had not been impaired by his absence, which had lasted more than a hundred days. They were disappointed that he had not returned in time to celebrate Easter with them. But he consoles them by representing that every participation of the Eucharist was a kind of Easter. “As often as ye eat this bread, ye do show forth the Lord’s death till He come.” “They were not tied to time and place like the Jew. Wherever and whenever the Christian celebrated that holy feast with joy and love, there was the true Paschal Festival.”513 They regretted also that so many had been baptized by other hands than his. “What then? that does not impair the gift of God; I was not present when they were baptized, but Christ was present.” “In a document signed by the Emperor, the only question of importance is the autograph; the quality of the ink and paper matters not. Even so in baptism, the tongue and the hand of the priest are but as the paper and pen: the hand which writes is the Holy Spirit Himself.”514
The thankfulness and joy of Chrysostom at the affectionate reception with which he was greeted by the people were probably felt and expressed the more warmly, owing to some unpleasant accounts which had been forwarded to him by his deacon Serapion, that Severian, Bishop of Gabala, had been endeavouring to undermine his influence in his absence. It will be remembered that to Severian Chrysostom had intrusted his episcopal duties during his visitation journey in Asia. The circumstance of a bishop of Syria residing for so long a time in Constantinople is worth considering, and affords a curious insight into the character of the times. Antiochus, Bishop of Ptolemais in Phœnicia, had a reputation as a learned and eloquent man; he paid a visit to Constantinople, and excited much admiration by his discourses. Severian, hearing of his success, was animated by a spirit of emulation, if not envy, which could not be satisfied till he had exhibited his powers on the same theatre. He carefully composed a large stock of sermons, and set out to try his fortune in the capital. The unsuspicious and generous Archbishop received him cordially, and frequently invited him to preach. Severian possessed some powers of speaking, though he had a harsh provincial accent, and he exerted all his eloquence in the church, and all his arts of flattery out of it, to win the confidence and admiration, not only of the Archbishop, but also of the chief personages at court, and even the Emperor and Empress. It was with their full approval that he remained as deputy of the Archbishop during his sojourn in Asia. But he found himself narrowly and suspiciously watched by the Archdeacon Serapion, who opposed some of his proceedings as arbitrary, and made no concealment of his dislike. One day after the return of Chrysostom, Severian passed through an apartment of the episcopal palace where Serapion was sitting. Serapion rose not to make the customary salutation of respect. Severian, irritated by his discourtesy, exclaimed in a loud voice: “If Serapion dies a Christian, then Jesus Christ was not incarnate.” The last clause only of the sentence was repeated by Serapion to Chrysostom. It was corroborated by witnesses; the indignation of the Archbishop was excited. Severian was peremptorily commanded to quit the city. The Empress resented the expulsion of a favourite preacher, and commanded the Archbishop to recall him. Chrysostom yielded so far, but was inflexible in his refusal to admit the offender to communion, till Eudoxia came in person to the Church of the Apostles, placed her infant son Theodosius on his knees, and conjured him by solemn oaths to listen to her request. The Archbishop then, but with some reluctance, consented.515 He was, however, thoroughly honest in doing that to which he had once made up his mind. Fearing that his congregation, in their zealous attachment to him, might disapprove of the reconciliation, he delivered a short address on the subject. He was their spiritual father, and he trusted therefore they would extend to him the respect and obedience of affectionate and dutiful children. He came to them with the most appropriate message that could be delivered by the mouth of a bishop—a message of peace and love. There was also a further duty incumbent on all—respectful submission to the civil powers. If the apostle Paul said, “Be subject to principalities and powers” (Tit. iii. 1), how especially was this precept incumbent on the subjects of a religious sovereign who laboured for the good of the Church? He besought them to receive Severian with a full heart and with open arms. The request was received by the congregation with expressions of approbation. He thanked them for their obedience, and concluded with a prayer that God would grant a fixed and lasting peace to His Church.
Severian addressed them the next day in a rhetorical and artificial discourse on the beauty and blessings of peace—a subject painfully incongruous with the subsequent conduct of the speaker; for this misunderstanding with the Bishop of Gabala was the first muttering of the storm which was soon to burst over the head of the doomed Archbishop.516
The inevitable fate of one who attempts to reform a deeply corrupt society, and a secularised clergy, on an ascetic model befell Chrysostom. He lashed with almost equal severity the most unpardonable crimes and the more venial foibles and follies of the age. His denunciations of heartless rapacity, sensuality, luxury, addiction to debasing and immoral amusements, might have been borne; but he presumed—an intolerable offence!—to censure the fashionable ladies for setting off their complexions with paint, and surmounting their heads with piles of false hair. The clergy, too, might have tolerated his condemnation of the grosser offences, such as simony or concubinage, but they resented his restraint of their indulgence in the pleasures of society, and of their propensity to frequent the entertainments of the noble and wealthy. He was, as Palladius expresses it, “like a lamp burning before sore eyes,” for what he bade others be, that he was pre-eminently himself.517 None could say that he was one man in the pulpit and another out of it. To set an example to his worldly clergy, and to avoid contamination, he gave up his episcopal income, save what sufficed to supply his simple daily wants. He resolutely abstained from mingling in general society, and ate his frugal meals in the seclusion of his own apartment. Thus, with the exception of a few deeply attached friends, who measured practical Christianity by the same standard as himself, he became deeply unpopular among the upper ranks of society. With the poor it was otherwise; they regarded him as a kind of champion, because he denounced the oppressions and extortions of the rich, and the tyranny of masters over slaves, and because he was ever inculcating the duty of almsgiving. In the eyes of his friends he was the saint, pure in life, severe in discipline, sublime in doctrine; in the eyes of his enemies he was the sacerdotal tyrant, odious to the clergy as an inexorable enforcer of a rule of life intolerably rigid, odious to clergy and laity as an inhospitable, if not haughty recluse; a vigilant and merciless censor who rode roughshod over established customs. Individuals at last, among clergy and laity, who conceived that they themselves, or at any rate the section of society to which they belonged, were the butts at which more especially the Archbishop aimed his shafts, began to discuss their grievances, till their conferences gradually assumed the shape of positive organised hostility against the disturber of their peace. But before entering on the troublous history of his enemies’ machinations, it may be well to take a glance at the most conspicuous of Chrysostom’s friends.
The list of those who are known to us by more than their mere names is soon exhausted. Among the clergy may be reckoned Heracleides, made Bishop of Ephesus in the place of Antoninus; Proclus, afterwards (in A.D. 434) Patriarch of Constantinople, at present the receiver of those who demanded audiences with the Patriarch; Cassianus, founder of the Monastery of St. Victor at Marseilles, and his friend and companion Germanus; Helladius, the priest of the palace, probably equivalent to private chaplain; Serapion, the deacon518 or archdeacon,519 afterwards made Bishop of Heraclea in Thrace, from which see he was expelled in the persecution which befell Chrysostom’s followers. With most of these men he maintained a constant and affectionate intercourse or correspondence during his exile to the close of his life. With such intimate companions and friends the austerity and reserve of manner which he assumed towards those outside this circle vanished. All the natural amiability and playful humour of his disposition shone out when he was in their company; he called some of them by nicknames of his own invention, especially those who practised such ascetic exercises as he specially approved.520
Three ladies are distinguished as among his most faithful friends. Salvina was the daughter of the African rebel Gildo, and had been married by Theodosius to Nebridius, nephew of his Empress, in the hope—a vain one as it proved—that this tie would attach Gildo to the Empire. Her husband died young; she vowed perpetual widowhood, and became the patroness and protectress at the court of Arcadius of oriental churches and ecclesiastics.
Pentadia was wife of the consul Timasius; and when her husband was banished by Eutropius to the Oasis of Egypt, she had been persecuted by the merciless tyrant, and fled for refuge to the Church, where she was protected in sanctuary by the Archbishop in spite of the opposition of her persecutor.
But by far the most eminent of Chrysostom’s female friends was the deaconess Olympias. She sprang from a noble but Pagan family. Her grandfather, Ablavius, was a prætorian prefect, highly esteemed and trusted by Constantine the Great, and her father, Seleucus, had attained the rank of count. She was early left an orphan, endowed with great personal beauty, and heiress to a vast fortune. Her uncle and guardian, Procopius, was a man of probity and piety, a friend and correspondent of Gregory Nazianzenus. Her instructress also, Theodosia, sister of St. Amphilocius, was a woman of piety; one whom Gregory recommended Olympias to imitate as a very model of excellence in speech and conduct. Under this happy training, the girl grew up to emulate and surpass her preceptress in goodness. Gregory delighted to call her “his own Olympias,” and to be called “father” by her.521 There could be no difficulty in finding a suitor for a lady possessed of every attraction. The anxiety of Procopius was to secure a worthy one. Nebridius was selected; a young man, but high in official rank; Count or Intendant of the Domain in A.D. 382, Prefect of Constantinople in A.D. 386. They were wedded in A.D. 384. Many bishops assisted at the ceremony, but Gregory was prevented from attending by the state of his health. He wrote a letter to Procopius, saying that in spirit, nevertheless, he would join their hands to one another and to God. Part of the letter is written in a vein of sprightly humour. “It would have been very unbecoming for a gouty old fellow like himself to be seen hobbling about among the dancers and merry-makers at the nuptials.”522 He also addressed a poem to Olympias, in which he gives her advice how she ought to conduct herself as a married woman. She did not long need his counsel. Nebridius died about two years after their marriage. Olympias regarded this early dissolution of the marriage-bond as an intimation of the Divine will that she should henceforth live free from the worldly entanglements and cares incident to married life. The Emperor Theodosius desired to unite her to a Spaniard named Elpidius, a kinsman of his own, but she steadfastly refused. The Emperor acted in that despotic manner which occasionally marred his usually generous character. He ordered the property of Olympias to be confiscated till she should be thirty years of age; she was even denied freedom of intercourse with her episcopal friends, and of access to the Church. But she only thanked the Emperor for those deprivations, which were intended to make her hanker after worldly life. “You have exercised towards your humble handmaiden a virtue becoming a monarch and suitable even to a bishop; you have directed what was to me a heavy burden, and the distribution of it an anxiety, to be kept in safe custody. You could not have conferred a greater blessing upon me, unless you had ordered it to be bestowed upon the churches and the poor.” The Emperor was softened; at any rate he perceived the uselessness, if not the injustice, of his treatment. He cancelled the order for the confiscation of her property, and left her in the undisturbed enjoyment of single life and of her possessions. Henceforward her time and wealth were devoted to the interests of the Church. She was the friend, entertainer, adviser of many of the most eminent ecclesiastics of the day; the liberal patroness of their works in Greece, Asia, Syria, not only by donations of money but even of landed property. We may not admire what was regarded in those days as among the most admirable traits of saintliness, a total disregard to personal neatness and cleanliness; but we can admire her frugal living, and entire devotion of her time to ministering to the wants of the sick, the needy, and the ignorant. Her too indiscriminate liberality was restrained by Chrysostom, who represented to her that, as her wealth was a trust committed to her by God, she ought to be prudent in the distribution of it. This salutary advice procured for him the ill-will of many avaricious bishops and clergy, who had profited, or hoped to profit, by her wealth.523 She, on her side, repaid the Archbishop for his spiritual care by many little feminine attentions to his bodily wants, especially by seeing that he was supplied with wholesome food, and did not overstrain his feeble constitution by a too rigid abstinence.524
The leaders of the faction hostile to Chrysostom among the clergy were the two bishops already mentioned—Severian of Gabala and Antiochus of Ptolemais. To these was added a third in the person of Acacius, Bishop of Berœa. He had, in A.D. 401 or A.D. 402, paid a visit to Constantinople, and, in a fit of rage at what he considered the mean lodging and inhospitable entertainment of the Archbishop, had coarsely exclaimed, in the hearing of some of the clergy, “I’ll season a dainty dish for him.”525 The ladies who acquired a melancholy pre-eminence among the enemies of the Archbishop were the intimate friends of the Empress, already mentioned—Marsa, widow of Promotus, the consul whom Rufinus murdered; Castricia, wife of the consul Saturninus; and Eugraphia, a wealthy widow,—all rich women “who used for evil the wealth which their husbands had through evil obtained.” Proud, intriguing, licentious, they were all exasperated against the Archbishop for the censure which he had unsparingly pronounced upon their moral conduct, as well as their vain and extravagant display in dress. The house of Eugraphia became the rendezvous of all clergy and monks, as well as laity, who were disaffected to him. Among the clergy was Atticus, who was obtruded on the see as Archbishop after the banishment of Chrysostom. This worthy cabal collected, and disseminated with praiseworthy industry, whatever tales could damage the character and influence of the Archbishop. His real failings were exaggerated, others were invented, and his language misrepresented. He was irascible, inhospitable, uncourteous, parsimonious; he had unmercifully assailed Eutropius with harsh language when he fled for refuge to the Church; he had behaved disrespectfully to Gaïnas when he was “magister militum;” but, worse than all, he had audaciously attacked the Augusta herself, and had insulted her sacred majesty by indicating her under the name of Jezebel. This is scarcely credible in itself, and is distinctly contradicted by the most trustworthy authorities; but it is stated that he had reproved the Empress for appropriating with harshness, if not violence, a piece of land; and of course the blows which he directed against inordinate luxury, unseemly parade of dress and the like, fell heavily upon the most prominent leader in these follies. She was probably mortified also to find that her display of religious zeal, her pious attendance on the services of the Church, her pilgrimages, her really liberal donations to good works, did not protect her from censure in other things. Chrysostom was not one of those who would connive at evil for the benefit, as some might have represented it, of the Church. He would not sacrifice what he believed to be the interests of morality, for the supposed advantage either of himself or of the Church over which he ruled. Wrong was wrong and must be rebuked, though the actor was the Empress herself, though that Empress was inclined to be the benefactress and patroness of the Church, and though she might become, as she did become, his implacable foe.
The clergy only needed an equally potent leader on their side, and then the organisation of the hostile forces would be complete. Such a chief was to be found in the Patriarch of Alexandria, Theophilus, who had already displayed a malignant spirit at the ordination of the Archbishop, though intimidated by Eutropius into submission. He was only waiting his opportunity for revenge, which a concurrence of circumstances now put into his hands.
After making the most of such charges as gossip, aided by malice, could manufacture at Constantinople, the enemy employed one of the party, a despicable Syrian monk named Isaac, to make a scrutinising inquiry at Antioch into the previous life of Chrysostom. A youth passed in such a licentious and voluptuous city could not fail, they thought, to betray some stains if submitted to a rigorous inspection. But their malevolent expectations were disappointed, for their miserable spy could bring back nothing but unmixed praise of an immaculate youth and a pious manhood.526
At this juncture the intriguers applied to Theophilus, and they could not have secured a more willing and able director of their plans. The character of this prelate, and his prominent position in the final events of Chrysostom’s career, demand some notice. Of his family and early life little is known. He had a sister who sympathised with him in his ambitious schemes; and Cyril, who succeeded him in the patriarchate, and too largely inherited his spirit, was his nephew. He spent a portion of his younger manhood as a recluse in the Nitrian desert, where he became familiar with the most eminent anchorites of that period, Elurion, Ammon, Isidore, and Macarius. He was secretary to Athanasius, and a presbyter of Alexandria under Peter, his successor; and, on the death of Timothy in A.D. 385, who succeeded Peter, he was elevated to the see. All historians concur in admitting that he possessed great ability; that he was capable of conceiving great projects, and executing them with courage and address. Jerome has described him as deeply skilled in science, especially mathematics and astrology, and highly praises his eloquence.527 He had a passion for building, and his episcopate was distinguished equally by the destruction of Pagan temples and the erection of Christian churches. The most splendid of these were the church of St. John the Baptist at Alexandria, and another at Canopus. But to gratify this expensive taste he was grasping of money, too often to the neglect of those indigent people who were dependent on the alms of the Church. He combined his efforts with Chrysostom’s, as has been already related, in healing the schism of Antioch in A.D. 399, after which little is known of his history, till he becomes Chrysostom’s implacable and too successful foe.528
CHAPTER XVII.
CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH LED TO THE INTERFERENCE OF THEOPHILUS WITH THE AFFAIRS OF CHRYSOSTOM—CONTROVERSY ABOUT THE WRITINGS OF ORIGEN—PERSECUTION BY THEOPHILUS OF THE MONKS CALLED “THE TALL BRETHREN”—THEIR FLIGHT TO PALESTINE—TO CONSTANTINOPLE—THEIR RECEPTION BY CHRYSOSTOM—THEOPHILUS SUMMONED TO CONSTANTINOPLE. A.D. 395-403.
In tracing to its starting-point the interference of Theophilus with the affairs of Chrysostom, we have to unravel a curious and tangled skein of controversy. The doctrines of Origen were as much an occasion of strife a hundred and fifty years after his death, as he himself had been during his life. With one hand holding on to the philosophy of the past, and with the other firmly grasping the Christianity of the present, he was persecuted by Pagans, yet never universally accepted and cordially trusted by the Church.529 So with his system of doctrine; it became a sort of debatable ground for the possession of which contending parties strove. The prize was worth the struggle; for the genius of Origen could not be questioned, but the quantity of his writings being enormous,530 and the range of his doctrine wide and many-sided, narrow-minded partisans, grasping only a part of it, condemned or extolled him unfairly on a single issue. The mystical element in his teaching was carried by some of his admirers to extremes of fanciful, allegorical, interpretation of Scripture, such as he himself would never have devised or approved. To others of a more prosaic, material cast of thought this same mystical vein was repugnant, and was denounced by them with characteristic coarseness. Men of larger minds, who had patience to peruse his voluminous works, and ability to criticise them, admired his genius, recognised his great services to Christianity, heartily embraced much of his teaching, questioned some portions, and rejected others. Such were Gregory Nazianzenus, Basil, Chrysostom, and Jerome, who would never have been so great as writers, or commentators, had they not been students of Origen. As a general statement, it may be true to say that he was less acceptable to the colder, more practical, more realistic mind of the Western Church, than to the lively imagination and speculative spirit of Oriental churchmen. The most controverted points, indeed, in his system were of a kind with which the Western mind did not naturally concern itself. The pre-existence of souls; their entrance into human bodies after the fall as the punishment of sin; their emancipation from the flesh in the resurrection; the ultimate salvation of all spirits, including Satan himself,—these are questions singularly congenial to Oriental, singularly alien from Western, thought. The Origenistic controversy fell into abeyance before the engrossing interest and importance of the Arian contest; but when that wave had spent itself, it revived, and just at this period all the greatest names of the day became engaged on one side or the other. As usual, the real questions at issue were too often forgotten amidst the personal jealousies, intrigues, angry recriminations to which the discussion of them gave birth.
In spite of his doubtful orthodoxy, the Egyptian Church could not fail to be proud of so distinguished a son as Origen, and Theophilus was at first his earnest defender. Some of the more illiterate Egyptian monks had recoiled from Origen’s highly spiritual conception of the Deity into an opposite extreme. Interpreting literally those passages of Scripture where God is spoken of as if possessing human emotions and corporeal parts, they altogether humanised His nature; they conceived of Him as a Being not “without body, parts, or passions;” they obtained, in consequence, the designation of “Anthropomorphites.” Against this humanising, material conception Theophilus, in a paschal letter, directed argument and proof.531 It was received by many of the monks with dismay, sorrow, and resistance. Serapion, one of the most aged, burst into tears when informed that the mind of the Eastern Church concurred, on the whole, with the doctrine of Theophilus, and exclaimed, “My God is taken away, and I know not what to worship.”532
Rufinus, a monk of Aquileia, and for a time the ardent friend of Jerome, was, during a visit to Egypt, initiated by Theophilus into the doctrines of Origen, conceived a warm admiration for them, extolled him as the light of the Gospel next to the Apostles, and imparted some of his own enthusiasm to John, bishop of Jerusalem, whom he soon afterwards visited. Jerome fully appreciated the merits of Origen, though his larger mind and more extensive knowledge were not blind to his defects.
Such were the amicable relations between the leading churchmen of the East in A.D. 395, when a visitor from the West threw among them the apple of discord. This was Aterbius, a pilgrim, who had a reputation as a subtle theologian, and appears, immediately on his arrival in Jerusalem, to have applied himself to the business of detecting heresy. He entered into friendly intercourse for a short time with the bishop and Rufinus, and then suddenly included Jerome with them both in a public denunciation as Origenists, and declared the whole diocese of Jerusalem to be infected with that heresy. Jerome immediately and indignantly repudiated the charge; he declared that he was not an Origenist, for that he merely read the works of Origen with reservations, as he might those of a heretic.533 Rufinus would not condescend to make any defence, oral or written, but shut himself up in his cloister in sullen silence till Aterbius had quitted Jerusalem, fearing, so Jerome affirms, to condemn what he really approved, or to incur the reproach of heresy by an open resistance.534 John of Jerusalem was equally indignant at the accusation, but displeased with Jerome for publicly exculpating himself independently of his bishop. In fact, the episcopal pride of the Bishop of Jerusalem was severely wounded at this time, both by the pre-eminence of the metropolitan see of Cæsarea,535 and by the reputation of Jerome’s monastic establishment at Bethlehem, which attracted visitors from all parts of Christendom.
When the minds of all were thus ruffled, a second and far more mischievous visitor arrived in the person of Epiphanius, the octogenarian Bishop of Constantia, Metropolitan of Cyprus. He was one of those men who, joining some erudition and a high reputation for rigid orthodoxy to a narrow mind and impulsive temper, figure prominently in theological warfare as the very personifications of discord. Shocked at the intelligence of the heretical tendency in Palestine, and vexed that it should have been detected by a stranger rather than by himself, who was a native of Palestine, and the visitor of a monastery between Jerusalem and Hebron, he lost not a moment in setting out for the Holy City. He accepted the hospitality of the Bishop John, and spent the evening in all amity with him, nor was the obnoxious subject of dispute mentioned between them.536
A strange scene took place on the following day.
In the church of the Holy Sepulchre, in the presence of a large congregation, Epiphanius fulminated a discourse against Origen, his doctrines, and all who favoured them. Bishop John and his clergy expressed their contempt by grimaces, sneers, and impatient scratchings of their heads. At last an archdeacon stepped forward, and required Epiphanius, in the name of the bishop, to desist from his discourse. The assembly was dissolved, but met again in the afternoon, largely augmented, in the church of the Holy Cross. This time Bishop John discoursed, and denounced the Anthropomorphites, or Humanisers, under which opprobrious name the partisans of Origen endeavoured to include all their opponents. Pale and trembling, and in a voice quivering with passion, the bishop directed his discourse, and turned his body, towards Epiphanius, who sat motionless in his chair. The invective being concluded, the aged Bishop of Constantia rose and pronounced these words with solemn deliberation: “All that John, my brother in the priesthood, my son in age, has just said against the heresy of the Anthropomorphites I thoroughly approve; and as we both condemn that absurd belief, it is only just that we should both denounce the errors of Origen.”537 A general laugh and acclamation on the part of the assembly proclaimed their sense of this speech as a successful hit. John made one more effort to right himself. He preached again in the church of the Holy Cross, this time on the chief verities of the faith, the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Atonement, the condition of souls before and after this life. It was intended to be a grand and convincing display of his orthodoxy, and at the moment Epiphanius expressed even approbation. On subsequent reflection, however, the aged critic thought he discovered that it teemed with error. He abruptly quitted Jerusalem, repaired to Bethlehem, resisted the solicitation of Jerome and his friends to be reconciled, and addressed a circular letter to all the monasteries of Palestine, requiring them to break off communion with the Bishop of Jerusalem.
Rufinus ranged himself immediately on the side of Bishop John; but Jerome, though with somewhat balanced feelings, sided on the whole with Epiphanius. Then the pent-up jealousy of John towards the monasteries of Bethlehem burst forth; they were placed under interdict, and the church of the Holy Manger closed against them. They were in despair for want of a priest to celebrate the Eucharist; but Epiphanius provided one through a forcible ordination. The young Paulinian had always steadfastly declined holy orders, though considered eminently qualified by his learning and virtue. He was now on a visit to the monastery of Epiphanius, near Eleutheropolis. When Epiphanius was celebrating the Eucharist, the young man was seized by the deacons, dragged to the steps of the altar, and there made to kneel. Epiphanius approached, cut off some of his hair, ordained him deacon, and obliged him to assist in the celebration on the spot. At a fresh sign from the bishop he was a second time seized, gagged to prevent his adjuring the bishop in the name of Jesus Christ, and when he rose from his knees he was declared to be a priest.538 The joy which filled the monasteries of Bethlehem was only to be equalled by the indignation of their opponents at Jerusalem. John actually applied (not without money, it is said) to Rufinus at Constantinople, then Prætorian Prefect, and even procured a decree of banishment against Jerome;539 but, the murder of Rufinus taking place soon afterwards, the governor of Cæsarea evaded the execution of the decree. Jerome retaliated by one of those fierce, nervous philippics which exhibit more command of language than of temper. The governor of Palestine made a praiseworthy but ineffectual effort to bring about a reconciliation. John had determined to invite an arbitrator, from whom he expected a strong partiality for his own cause. He appealed to Theophilus, from whom Rufinus, the monk, had derived his first acquaintance with Origen. Jerome indignantly complained of this invocation of a foreign jurisdiction. Was not Cæsarea the metropolitan see of Palestine? why this contempt of ecclesiastical law?540 Theophilus, however, had no scruples in accepting the appeal. It was just one of those recognitions of pre-eminence which the Patriarch of Alexandria, like the Bishops of Rome, joyfully welcomed. The gratification of ambition was pleasantly disguised from others, and perhaps from themselves, under the semblance of peacemaking. Theophilus despatched Isidore as his legate to Palestine. His arrival was preceded by two letters, one intended for the Bishop of Jerusalem, the other for Vincentius, the presbyter and friend of Jerome at Bethlehem.
Unfortunately the letter intended for the bishop was delivered to Vincentius, and he and Jerome read with indignation assurances of sympathy and friendship towards John, and expressions of contempt for Jerome and his party, the language, in short, of an accomplice rather than of an arbitrator. It set forth in flowery oriental terms the confidence of the legate in the success of his mission; “as smoke disperses in the air, as wax melts before the fire, so will these enemies, who always resist the faith, and seek to disturb it now, by means of simple ignorant men be dispersed on my arrival.”541 The legate took up his abode at Jerusalem, and spent his time in familiar intercourse with the bishop and Rufinus. To Bethlehem he paid occasional visits, where he conducted himself with dictatorial haughtiness. Jerome and the monks plainly perceived that the so-called arbitrator was committed to one side—which was not theirs.
But on a sudden, in A.D. 398, the Patriarch wheeled round; he discovered that he had been in error. “The writings of Origen were fraught with danger to the unlearned, however profitable to philosophic minds.” Such was the reason alleged for this sudden revulsion of opinion. The real reasons appear to have been of a less calm and philosophic character. One of the most distinguished presbyters in Alexandria at this time was Isidore, an octogenarian. His youth had been spent in pious seclusion, among the monks of Scetis and Nitria, and his piety had attracted the notice of Athanasius, whom he accompanied to Rome in A.D. 341, and by whom he was afterwards ordained priest. He became the Hospitaller of the Church in Alexandria, whose duty it was to attend to the reception of Christian visitors. In spite of great personal austerity, he was, as became his position, gentle and amiable to all men, even Pagans, when brought into contact with them. In A.D. 398, at the age of eighty, he had been employed to carry to Rome the recognition by Theophilus of Flavian as bishop of Antioch; and now, in the extremity of age, he was destined to become the first victim of a persecution by Theophilus, which, beginning with him, culminated in the deposition and exile of Chrysostom.542
An opulent widow committed to Isidore a large sum of money to be expended on clothing for the poor of Alexandria, and adjured him by a solemn oath to conceal the trust from Theophilus, lest the Patriarch’s well-known cupidity should be tempted to appropriate the money to aid his grand operations in building. The precaution, however, was vain: nothing said or done in his diocese could escape the vigilance of informers in the employ of Theophilus. Isidore was questioned by the Patriarch concerning the charitable gift, and required to place the money at his disposal; but the hospitaller refused, and boldly maintained that it would be better bestowed on the bodies of the sick and poor, which were the temples of God, than on the erection of buildings. The Patriarch was astounded at the temerity of his disobedience, but dissembled for the moment the depth of his resentment. Two months later, in a convocation of the clergy, he produced a paper containing the charge of a horrible and unmentionable crime against Isidore, which the Patriarch said he had received eighteen years ago, but had been unable to prove from the absence of the principal witness. The whole charge turned out to be a baseless fabrication; but Isidore was ejected from the priesthood by the contrivance of Theophilus.543
The aged hospitaller fled to the peaceful retreat of his earlier days, the desert of Nitria. The most distinguished of the monks in this seclusion were four brothers—Ammon, Dioscorus, Eusebius, and Euthymius—eminent alike for their piety and the height of their stature, whence they were known by the name of the “tall brethren.” They were venerated as the fathers of the Nitrian monks. Theophilus had in former times professed the highest admiration and respect for their virtues. He had made the eldest, Dioscorus, bishop of Hermopolis, and had persuaded, if not compelled, Eusebius and Euthymius, much against their will, to be presbyters in Alexandria.544 Their simple piety was so much shocked by the avarice and other failings of the Patriarch, that they implored him to release them from clerical duties and restore them to the freedom of the desert. When Theophilus discovered their real reason for requesting this permission he was furious, and tried to intimidate them into submission by fierce menaces, but in vain. They withdrew, and for a time the Patriarch was at a loss how to execute vengeance on men who had few possessions of any kind to be deprived of. But now the opportunity arrived. Isidore, the excommunicated hospitaller, had been sheltered in their friendly retreat. Theophilus devised a malignant plan for disturbing their peace. The “tall brethren” belonged to that more mystical order of monks which embraced Origen’s doctrine of a purely spiritual Deity, and were determined adversaries of the more sensuous and anthropomorphite school. Theophilus now scrupled not to declare himself in favour of the Anthropomorphites, whom he had formerly denounced. He encouraged the more coarse and ignorant to make violent and tumultuous assaults on the monastic retreat of Nitria, and, directed the bishops of the neighbourhood to eject several of the most distinguished monks, including Ammon. They repaired to Alexandria, sought an interview with Theophilus, requested to hear the cause of their ejection, and remonstrated on the treatment of Isidore. Theophilus burst into a violent rage, changed colour at every moment, glared on them with bloodshot eyes, dealt blows to Ammon on his face, and, while the blood trickled down, shouted, “Heretic, anathematise Origen.” One of the number was put in prison to intimidate the rest; but they all entered it voluntarily together, and refused to come out unless their companion also was released. This was at length permitted, but the design of persecution was followed up. The Patriarch’s paschal letter of A.D. 401 is chiefly occupied with a condemnation of Origen and his disciples. He confesses, indeed, that he had himself at one time been cast into that fiery furnace of error, but, like the three children, he had come out unscathed; “not even his hair or garments had been singed.” He describes himself as having now returned from the land of captivity to the true Jerusalem; Origen and his doctrines are condemned with much heat; and a prominent place is assigned to him and all his disciples in the infernal regions.545
But Theophilus was far from being contented to stop at this point. He convoked a synod of neighbouring bishops. The monks were not informed of it, nor invited to appear and make their defence. Three of the most eminent were excommunicated as heretics and magicians. It was in vain that the monks protested against the injustice of condemning Origen or his readers on the strength of a few passages only, and those, as they maintained, in many instances garbled or interpolated. A synodical letter was published, addressed to the Catholic world, reprobating the writings of Origen. It produced a profound sensation in Rome, where the Pope Anastasius anathematised Origen.546 But the humiliation of the Nitrian brethren was not yet complete. Five most insignificant monks, scarce worthy, according to Palladius, to discharge menial offices as lay brethren, were ordained by Theophilus, one to a bishopric, one to be priest, and the three others to be deacons. A small town was created a see, there being none vacant to receive the new bishop. With these tools the Patriarch could rapidly execute his designs. His creatures prepared, under his direction, a list of complaints and charges against the Nitrian monks, which they publicly presented to him in church. Armed with this, he had an interview with the governor of Egypt, and obtained from him an order for the forcible expulsion of insubordinate monks from the settlement at Nitria. With a troop of soldiers and a rabble of rascals, such as in all large towns are ready for the perpetration of any mischief, whom he had previously primed with drink, the Patriarch fell by night upon the monastic dwellings. Dioscorus was the first victim of his rage. He was one of the “tall brethren,” who had been compelled by Theophilus to become bishop of Hermopolis. He was now dragged before the Patriarch by some rude Ethiopian slaves, and told that he was deprived of his see. Diligent search was made for the three other brethren, but they were undiscoverably hidden in a well. The fury of the Patriarch expended itself principally upon inanimate objects; the dwellings of the monks were pillaged and burned, together with their valuable libraries, and, to the horror of the pious, even some of the Eucharistic elements547 were consumed in the general destruction.
The havoc being completed, Theophilus returned to Alexandria. The terrified monks came out of their hiding-places, and, wrapping themselves in their sheepskins, their only remaining property, set out from their beloved solitudes to seek shelter and a new home elsewhere. Three hundred, following the “tall brethren,” took their journey towards Palestine; the rest dispersed in different directions. Not more than eighty arrived with the four brethren at Jerusalem, whence they shortly afterwards withdrew northwards to Scythopolis, a place eminently adapted to their wants by its situation in a well-watered valley rich in palm-trees, of which the leaves furnished materials for mats, baskets, and the other articles usually wrought by monkish labour.548 But distance did not diminish the malice of their persecutor. They were pursued by letters from Theophilus addressed to all the bishops of Palestine, who were admonished not to grant ecclesiastical communion or shelter to the heretical fugitives. Jerome mentions two commissioners who scoured Palestine, and left no hole or cave unexplored in the diligence of their search for the offenders.549 Thus hunted and harassed, the poor monks at length resolved to embark for Constantinople, throw themselves on the generosity of the Emperor and Archbishop, and submit their cause to their decision. They reached the capital, fifty in number; their foreign aspect, bare arms and knees, and primitive garb of white sheepskins, excited much curiosity and interest among the people of Constantinople. They repaired first of all to Chrysostom, in the hope that his authority would be sufficient to procure them justice, without an application to the civil powers. The Archbishop received them with great kindness and respect, and shed tears of compassion when he heard the tale of their sufferings and wanderings. But he acted with caution; he consulted some Alexandrian clergy who were at this time in Constantinople engaged in distributing presents to conciliate, or, more properly speaking, to bribe, the favour of persons just appointed to civil offices in Egypt. They admitted the virtues and hard usage of the monks, but recommended him not to incur the displeasure of Theophilus by admitting them to communion. The monks were lodged in the precincts of the church of Anastasia; Olympias and other pious women attended to their wants, which were to some extent supplied by the produce of their own manual labour. They were admitted to prayer in the church, but excluded from the Eucharist until the merits of their cause should have been carefully sifted, and their excommunication revoked. Chrysostom, unsuspicious of others, in his own innocence, was sanguine of his power to obtain their restitution. He despatched a letter to Theophilus, in which he besought him in courteous and friendly terms to be reconciled with the fugitives, and thereby to confer a favour on himself, his spiritual son and brother. But no notice was taken of the request; and meanwhile the agents of Theophilus were busily employed at Constantinople in disseminating injurious tales about the monks—they were heretics, magicians, rebels.
Throughout the rest of Christendom Theophilus pursued a different method. He toiled with diligence worthy of a better cause to obtain a wide condemnation of Origen and his works. Could he once secure such a general condemnation, and then prove Chrysostom and the monks to be at variance with it, he would possess a powerful engine in working the ruin of both. It is difficult to believe that even Theophilus would have pursued the monks with such insatiable animosity had they not fled to the patriarch of that see which was regarded with peculiar jealousy by the bishops of Alexandria, and had not the present occupant of that see been elected in preference to the candidate put forward by himself. Thus he clutched at the opportunity of depressing his rival, and punishing his victims, the monks, at the same time.
He found a faction hostile to the Archbishop already existing in Constantinople, and quite ready to submit the management of their interests to his skilful direction. The persecution of the monks was quickly dropped. Their supposed offence was only the handle by which to compass the destruction of a more formidable foe. Jerome contributed powerful aid to the designs of Theophilus by favourable notices of him in his letters, depreciating the conduct of the monks.550 But a more active auxiliary appeared in the Bishop of Constantia, whose advanced age seems never to have diminished the alacrity with which he entered the lists of controversy. Theophilus, in his Origenistic days, had attacked Epiphanius with some vehemence as an anthropomorphite; but he now wrote a letter to the bishop expressing regret for his former language, and his increasing conviction of the mischievous tendency of Origen’s doctrines.551 He implored his holy brother to convene a council of the bishops of Cyprus without delay, for the purpose of condemning the heretic, and of drawing up letters, announcing their decision, to be sent round to the principal sees, especially Constantinople, where the heretical and contumacious monks were harboured. Epiphanius flattered himself that he had converted the Patriarch, and was delighted to receive such a powerful accession to his side. The council was summoned, the condemnation carried, and the letters despatched.552 Theophilus himself, at the commencement of A.D. 402, issued a paschal letter, which contained a subtle exposition and refutation of the Origenistic errors. The letter was translated, and highly commended, both for matter and expression, by Jerome.553
To Chrysostom himself Theophilus wrote a sharp complaint of his protecting heretics, and violating the canon of Nice, which prohibited any bishop from exercising jurisdiction in matters relating to another see. The cause of the Nitrian monks, he asserted, could not be decided legally anywhere but in a council of Egyptian bishops. It will be borne in mind, however, that Chrysostom had carefully abstained from pronouncing any decision, through a council or otherwise, on the affair of the monks. They, indeed, became provoked with him that he did not espouse their cause more heartily. The agents of Theophilus were busily engaged in damaging their character; a little money easily persuaded the sailors and others employed in the Alexandrian corn trade to point at the monks in the streets as magicians and heretics. The monks declared to Chrysostom their resolution to appeal to the civil powers to obtain a formal prosecution of their accusers as base calumniators. Chrysostom remonstrated, and declined, if that step were taken, to mediate any more in their affair. Some of his enemies in Constantinople did not fail to represent this as a cruel desertion of those whom he had at first befriended.554
Thus hostile forces were on all sides closing round the Archbishop, but he continued apparently unconscious of the snares which were being woven for him. The Origenistic controversy, into the vortex of which his enemies sought to drag him, possessed little interest for him. The more mystical, abstract speculations of Origen’s theology were alien from his practical sphere of work and practical habit of mind; and, in common with the other chief representatives of the Antiochene school, Diodorus and Theodore, he neither wholly embraced nor wholly rejected his system of doctrine. At any rate, he paid no attention to the letter from Cyprus, which requested him to join in the condemnation of Origen and his writings. This was precisely what his enemies wanted.
The Nitrian monks, cast off by the Archbishop when they had announced their intention of appealing to secular authority, drew up documents filled with charges of the most flagrant crimes against their accusers and against Theophilus. They demanded that their calumniators in Constantinople should be immediately tried by the prefect, and that Theophilus should be summoned to defend his conduct before a council under the presidency of Chrysostom. One day, as the Empress was riding in her litter to worship in the church of St. John the Baptist at Hebdomon, she was accosted by some of those strange skin-clad beings of whom, and of whose wanderings and wrongs, she had heard much. She caused her litter to stop, bowed graciously to the monks, and implored the favour of their prayers for the Empire, the Emperor, herself, and her children. The monks presented their petition; Eudoxia courteously accepted it, and promised them that the council which they desired should be convened; that Theophilus should be summoned to attend it, and that the accusers now in Constantinople should either substantiate their charges, or suffer the penalties of calumnious defamation. This inquiry was immediately instituted; the poor culprits confessed that they had been paid agents of Theophilus, and that their accusations had been dictated by him. They therefore entreated that their trial might be deferred till his arrival. Meanwhile, however, they were put in prison, where one of them died; and as the arrival of Theophilus continued to be delayed, they were banished to Proconnesus for libel. An officer was despatched to Alexandria to serve Theophilus with a peremptory summons to appear at Constantinople, and empowered to enforce his obedience, if he was reluctant.555
Thus the preparations for a judicial investigation of the affair of the monks emanated not from Chrysostom, but from the throne, although he was represented by his enemies as the originator, and by Jerome he is styled a parricide for labouring to condemn Theophilus.556 Chrysostom seems, in fact, to have dismissed alike the business of the monks and the theological question of Origenism from his mind. Intent on edifying the Church, instead of agitating it by personal or polemical strife, he quietly pursued his daily routine of duties as chief pastor, feeding his flock with the wholesome food of the Word and of the bread of life.
Theophilus was unable to evade obedience to the summons which commanded him to repair to Constantinople. His only hope now was to change his position from that of the accused into that of the accuser. The council which was called together for the purpose of investigating his conduct should, by his contrivance, be transferred into a council for arraigning Chrysostom of heresy and misdemeanour. The letters of Epiphanius and Theophilus having failed to obtain from Chrysostom that condemnation which they demanded of the writings of Origen, the Bishop of Constantia, at the urgent request of Theophilus, set forth at the beginning of A.D. 403 for Constantinople, bringing the decree of the Council of Cyprus for the signature of the Archbishop. Theophilus slowly proceeded overland from Egypt through Syria, Cilicia, and Asia Minor, in order to bring up as many bishops as possible to the council, who would be prepared to act under his direction. Epiphanius, having landed, halted at the church of St. John, outside Constantinople, held an assembly of clergy, and even, it is said, committed the irregularity of ordaining a deacon.557 Chrysostom, however, acted with all due courtesy and discretion. He sent out a large body of clergy to welcome the visitor by inviting and conducting him to the hospitable lodging prepared for him in the archiepiscopal palace. Epiphanius, acting on preconceived judgment of the two chief subjects in dispute, declined the offer unless the Archbishop would consent to expel the monks, and to sign the decree against Origen. Chrysostom justly replied that he could not anticipate the decision of a council which was being summoned for the very purpose of considering both these questions. Epiphanius, therefore, found a lodging elsewhere, and diligently strove to induce such bishops as he could collect to sign the decree.558 His reputation for learning, orthodoxy, and piety secured the consent of many, but on the part of many more there was determined opposition. Eminent among these was Theotimus, a Goth by birth, but educated in Greece, who had been made Bishop of Tomis and Metropolitan of Scythia. He was a man of genuine sanctity, ascetic habits, and courageous spirit. Tomis was a great central market of Gothic and Hunnish tribes, and the bishop used boldly to enter the motley concourse and try to win converts. He would invite savage Huns to partake of some hospitable entertainment in his house, and by gifts and little attentions, and courteous treatment, he sought to soften their ferocity, and effect an opening in their hearts for the reception of Christian teaching. He came to be regarded by them with a kind of superstitious reverence, and was commonly called by them “the god of the Christians.” Over his half-episcopal, half-barbarian costume flowed the long hair which betokened his Gothic origin. He lifted up his voice with boldness to denounce the present ill-considered condemnation of the works of Origen. It was unseemly and unjust, he maintained, to pass a coarse and sweeping sentence on the entire works of one whose genius had been acknowledged by the whole Church. He produced a volume of Origen, and from it read some beautiful, powerful passages of irreproachable orthodoxy. Then, turning to Epiphanius, he asked him how he could attack a man to whom the Church owed a thousand similar, and even more beautiful, passages. “How call him a son of Satan? Place what is good in him on one side, and what is bad on the other, and then choose.”559
This courageous protest, however, did not divert Epiphanius and his partisans from their course of action. In fact, they proceeded a step further. It was arranged that when a large congregation was collected in the Church of the Apostles, Epiphanius should enter and harangue the assembly, denouncing both the writings of Origen and his admirers, especially the “tall brethren,” and even Chrysostom himself as their protector. Chrysostom, however, received intimation of their design, and by his direction Serapion confronted Epiphanius at the entrance of the church, and told him that “he had already violated ecclesiastical law by ordaining a deacon in the diocese and church of another bishop, but to minister and preach without permission was a still grosser outrage; a popular tumult would probably ensue, and Epiphanius would be held responsible for any violence which might be committed.” Epiphanius, though not without angry remonstrances, desisted.560
Eudoxia seems to have placed special faith in the intercessions of ecclesiastical visitors of distinction. As she had formerly asked the prayers of the “tall brethren,” so now, the young prince her son (afterwards Theodosius II.), being attacked by an alarming illness, she implored the prayers of Epiphanius on his behalf. The bishop replied that her child’s recovery depended on her repudiation of the heretical refugees. The Empress, however, declared that she should prefer simply to resign her son’s life to the will of God who gave it without complying with the requisition of Epiphanius.561
It may be that these incidents were beginning to tell upon the reason of the aged zealot, and open his eyes to the irregularity of his proceedings; at any rate, shortly after this, he granted an interview to Ammon and his brothers. The record of the conversation is instructive. “Allow me to ask, holy father,” said Ammon, “whether you have ever read any of our works or those of our disciples?” Epiphanius was obliged to confess that he had not even seen them, and that he had formed his judgment simply from general report. “How then,” replied Ammon, “can you venture to condemn us when you have no proof of our opinions? We have pursued a widely different course. We conversed with your disciples, we read your works, among others one entitled the ‘Anchor of Faith;’ and when we met with persons who ridiculed your opinions, and asserted that your writings were replete with heresy, we have defended you as our father. Is it just, on such slender ground as common report, to condemn those who have so zealously befriended you?” These bold and pungent remarks are said to have wrought compunction in the heart of the aged bishop. He began to perceive that he had been made the agent of a plot, and he lost no time in extricating himself from it by departing from Constantinople. His farewell words to some of the bishops who accompanied him to the ship were: “I leave to you the city, the palace, and this piece of acting.”562
CHAPTER XVIII.
THEOPHILUS ARRIVES IN CONSTANTINOPLE—ORGANISES A CABAL AGAINST CHRYSOSTOM—THE SYNOD OF THE OAK—CHRYSOSTOM PRONOUNCED CONTUMACIOUS FOR NON-APPEARANCE AND EXPELLED FROM THE CITY—EARTHQUAKE—RECALL OF CHRYSOSTOM—OVATIONS ON HIS RETURN—FLIGHT OF THEOPHILUS. A.D. 403.
Regardless of the forces which had been set in motion against him, Chrysostom pursued his usual course of work without any variation. The reins of discipline were held tightly as ever; the Word was preached, in season and out of season, with unabated diligence; the people were exhorted, admonished, rebuked with the same irrepressible earnestness. His enemies took advantage of a sermon, specially directed against the follies and vices of fashionable ladies, to represent it as an attack upon the Empress herself.563 Eudoxia, credulous and impulsive by nature, and probably irritated because the Archbishop did not pay her servile homage, complained to the Emperor of the insult which had been cast upon her, and was induced by the hostile party to expect the arrival of Theophilus as an opportunity for redressing her wrongs. That prelate was now rapidly approaching, with a large number of bishops collected from Egypt, Syria, and Asia Minor. Twenty-eight, on whose partisanship he could reckon, travelled by sea to Chalcedon. Many bishops had become disaffected to Chrysostom in Asia Minor, owing to the rigorous investigation recently made by him into the state of the Church in that region, and they readily joined the camp of Theophilus. Prominent among them was Gerontius of Nicomedia, whom, as will be remembered, he had deposed. The whole force was at length (June 403) assembled at Chalcedon, and a council of war was held, to determine the plan of operations. None was more virulent in his denunciation of Chrysostom, as tyrannical, proud, and heretical, than Cyrinus, bishop of Chalcedon. He was an Egyptian by birth, and Theophilus reckoned on him as a valuable ally, but was deprived of his services by a curious incident. Maruthas, bishop of Mesopotamia, accidentally trod on the foot of Cyrinus: a wound ensued, the wound gangrened, the foot had to be amputated, but the mortification spread, and, after two years of lingering pain, put an end to his life.564
Theophilus made his entrance into Constantinople about the middle of June. He had been summoned as a defendant, but, according to his design already indicated, he appeared surrounded by all the pomp and dignity of a judge. None of the bishops, indeed, or clergy of Constantinople came to greet him on landing, but the crews of the Alexandrian corn-fleet gave him a hearty welcome, and he was accompanied by a large retinue, not only of bishops and clergy, but of Alexandrian sailors, laden with some of the costliest produce of Egypt and the East, a very potent auxiliary in obtaining partisans. As on the arrival of Epiphanius, so now, Chrysostom did not fail to offer the customary hospitality due to a brother bishop; but Theophilus disdainfully declined it, passed by the palace and the metropolitan church, which episcopal visitors usually entered on their arrival, and proceeded to the suburb of Pera, where a lodging had been prepared for him in a house of the Emperor’s, called the Palace of Placidia.
During the three weeks that he resided here, he refused to hold any communication with Chrysostom, or to enter his church; nor did he vouchsafe any reply to the frequent entreaties of the Archbishop that he would state his reasons for such conduct. His house became the resort of all the disaffected clergy or affronted ladies and gentlemen in the city, who were drawn thither, not only by a common hatred to Chrysostom, but also by the handsome gifts, the elegant and dainty repasts, and the winning flattery with which they were treated by Theophilus.565 These arts were the more necessary because Theophilus had a double part to play: to arrest the course of the accusation instituted against himself, as well as to organise a powerful cabal against Chrysostom. In the former he was helped by the scruples or peacefulness of Chrysostom himself. The Archbishop was directed by the Court to repair to Pera, and preside over an inquiry into the crimes of which Theophilus was accused. But he declined, on the plea that the ecclesiastical affairs of one province could not, according to the Canons of Nice, be judged in another; partly also, as he affirmed, out of respect for his brother Patriarch. The truth probably was, that he foresaw the vindictive and turbulent spirit of Theophilus would never submit to the decisions of a council under the presidency of his rival in that see of which Alexandria was especially jealous. Otherwise there is no doubt that a General Council at Constantinople would have been competent to judge the Patriarch of Alexandria; whereas a Provincial Council in Egypt could not have judged him, he being supreme there by virtue of his position as Patriarch.566 Chrysostom himself also might legally have been arraigned before a General Council; but, as will be seen, the synod composed by Theophilus was far from being entitled to that appellation.
The obstacle of his own trial being thus disposed of, it only remained for Theophilus to prosecute his design against his rival with mingled subtlety and boldness. The first step was to secure a sufficient number of witnesses, and a list of accusations, which, being presented to the Emperor, would furnish a plausible reason for summoning a council. The next step would be to pack that council with bishops hostile to Chrysostom. Two despicable deacons, who had been expelled from their office by the Archbishop for homicide and adultery, were well content to draw up a list of charges on a promise from Theophilus that they should be restored to their former position. The accusations seem to have been of a puerile character; and if the source of them was known, it would seem inconceivable that the Court should have entertained them, did we not remember that the influence of the Empress, as well as of many of the most powerful courtiers, was now turned or rapidly turning against the Archbishop, and that the bribes of Theophilus were permeating the whole city.
The attachment of the people, however, to Chrysostom was known to be so strong, that it was deemed prudent by the enemy to hold the synod at a safe distance from the city. A suburb of Chalcedon, called “The Oak,” where Rufinus, the late prefect, had built a palace, church, and monastery, was selected as a convenient place for the assembly.567 The bishops, after all the exertions of Theophilus, did not amount to more than thirty-six, of whom twenty-nine were Egyptians.568 Among the latter was Cyril, the successor of Theophilus. Chrysostom was summoned to appear before the synod. The scene in the archiepiscopal palace immediately preceding the summons has been described by Palladius, with the vivid and minute exactness of an eye-witness.
“We were sitting, to the number of forty bishops, in the dining-hall of the palace, marvelling at the audacity with which one, who had been commanded to appear as a culprit at Constantinople, had arrived with a train of bishops, had altered the sentiments of nobles and magistrates, and perverted the majority even of the clergy. Whilst we were wondering, John, inspired by the Spirit of God, addressed to us all the following words: ‘Pray for me, my brethren, and, if ye love Christ, let no one for my sake desert his see, for I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. Like him who spoke these words, I perceive that I am about to relinquish life, for I know the intrigues of Satan, that he will not endure any longer the burden of my words which are delivered against him. May ye obtain mercy, and in your prayers remember me.’ Seized with inexpressible sorrow, some of us began to weep, and others to leave the assembly, after kissing, amid tears and sobs, the sacred head and eyes, and eloquent mouth, of the Archbishop. He, however, exhorted them to return, and, as they hovered near, like bees humming round their hive, ‘Sit down, my brethren,’ he said, ‘and do not weep, unnerving me by your tears, for to me to live is Christ, to die is gain. Recall the words which I have so frequently spoken to you. Present life is a journey; both its good and painful things pass away. Present time is like a fair: we buy, we sell, and the assembly is dissolved. Are we better than the Patriarchs, the Prophets, the Apostles, that this life should remain to us for ever?’ Here one of the company uttering a cry exclaimed: ‘Nay, but what we lament is our own bereavement and the widowhood of the Church, the derangement of sacred laws, the ambition of those who fear not the Lord, and violently seize the highest positions; the destitution of the poor, and the loss of sound teaching.’ But John replied, striking, as was his custom when cogitating, the palm of his left hand with the forefinger of his right: ‘Enough, my brother—no more; only, as I was saying, do not abandon your churches, for neither did the office of teaching begin with me, nor in me has it ended. Did not Moses die, and was not Joshua found to succeed him? Did not Samuel die, but was not David anointed? Jeremy departed this life, but Baruch was left; Elijah was taken up, but Elisha prophesied in his place; Paul was beheaded, but did he not leave Timothy, Titus, Apollos, and a host of others to work after him?’ To these words Eulysius, bishop of Apamea, in Bithynia, observed: ‘If we retain our sees, it will become necessary for us to hold communion with the authors of your deposition, and to subscribe to your condemnation.’569 To which the holy John replied: ‘Communicate by all means, so as to avoid rending the unity of the Church; but abstain from subscribing, for I am not conscious of having done anything to deserve deposition.’”