At this point in the conference it was announced that certain emissaries from the “Synod of the Oak” had arrived. Chrysostom gave orders that they should be admitted, inquired, when they entered, to what rank in the hierarchy they belonged, and, on being informed that they were bishops, requested them to be seated, and to declare the purpose of their coming. The two bishops, young men recently raised to the episcopate in Libya, replied, “We are merely the bearers of a document which we request that you will command to be read.” Chrysostom gave the order, and a servant of Theophilus read the missive. “The holy Synod assembled at the Oak to John” (thus did his enemies deprive him of all his titles). “We have received a list containing an infinite number of charges against you. Present yourself, therefore, before us, bringing with you the priests Serapion and Tigrius, for their presence is necessary.” The bishops who were with Chrysostom were very indignant at the insolent tenor of the message. A reply to the following effect was drawn up, addressed to Theophilus, and despatched by the hand of three bishops and two priests: “Subvert not nor rend the Church for which God became incarnate; but if, in contempt of the canons framed by 318 bishops at Nice, you choose to judge a cause beyond the boundaries of your jurisdiction, cross the straits into our city, which is at least strictly governed by law, and do not, after the example of Cain, call Abel out into the open field. For we have charges of palpable crimes against you, drawn up under more than sixty heads; our synod, also, is more numerous than yours, and is assembled, by the grace of God, after a peaceful manner, not for the disruption of the Church. For you are but thirty-six in number, collected out of a single province;570 but we are forty, from several provinces, and seven are metropolitans. It is only reasonable that the less should be judged, according to the canons, by the greater.”
Chrysostom approved of this answer of the bishops, but sent a separate letter on his own behalf: “Hitherto I am wholly ignorant whether any one has anything to say against me; but if any one has assailed me, and you wish me to appear before you, eject from your assembly my declared enemies. I raise no question respecting the place where I ought to be tried, although the most proper place is the city.” He proceeds to say that he objected to his declared and implacable enemies, Theophilus, Acacius, Severian, and Antiochus, being allowed to sit on the council at all. “He could convict Theophilus of having said in Alexandria and Lycia, ‘I am setting out for the capital to depose John;’ which, indeed, is true, for, since he set foot in Constantinople, he has refused to meet or communicate with me. What, then, will one do, after the trial, who has acted as my enemy before it?” When these men should have been eliminated from the synod, or legally constituted as his accusers, he would appear before a council, even if composed of members from all Christendom; but till this condition was complied with, he would refuse to present himself though summoned ten thousand times over.571
He demanded, in short, to be tried by an œcumenical synod, as the only tribunal which could legally exact obedience from him. The Synod of the Oak, composed as it was mainly of Egyptians and of declared enemies, could not possibly pretend to that character. If the Imperial Court had been upright and courageous, not susceptible of flattery and bribes, not induced by personal animosity against the Archbishop to favour or connive at the proceedings of his enemies, such a synod could not have been held. That it was held, and succeeded in the purpose for which it met, will ever be a stain upon the Church and the Empire of the East.
But although viciously constituted and, indeed, all the more on that very account, the synod made much display of complying in formalities with the established order of an ecclesiastical court of judicature. The prosecution was to be carried on in the name of a plaintiff who was to be present, and to submit his charge in writing. The defendant was to be cited to appear and defend himself; and if he failed to appear after three or four citations, he would be pronounced contumacious, and as such be punishable by the synod with excommunication and deposition. The further penalties of imprisonment, exile, or death could not be inflicted by any but the secular power.
Theophilus was president of the synod, and the prosecution was conducted in the name of John, Archdeacon of Constantinople, who cherished malice against Chrysostom because he had once been suspended by him for ill-treating a slave, though afterwards restored. The charges were drawn up under twenty-nine heads. The evidence of most worthless witnesses was accepted, or, more properly speaking, invited. A strange medley of monstrous and incredible offences was included in the list of charges prepared by the Archdeacon John—acts of personal violence, as well as violations of ecclesiastical discipline. “He had struck people on the face, had calumniated many of his clergy, had called one Epiphanius fool and demoniac, had imprisoned others, had accused his archdeacons of robbing his pallium for an unlawful purpose; he had despotically and illegally deposed bishops in Asia, and had ordained others without sufficient inquiry into their qualifications, mental or moral; he had alienated the property and sold the ornaments of the Church; he held private interviews with women, he dined on Cyclopian fare, he ate a small cake after holy communion, he had administered both sacraments, after he himself or the recipients had eaten.”572 The crowning charge was that of treasonable language against the Empress—“he had called her Jezebel.” This was the trump card of the cabal. If the Emperor’s Court could be persuaded to believe him guilty on this point, exile at least, and probably death, would be the inevitable consequence.
Such were the principal charges in the list presented by the Archdeacon John. A second list, presented by Isaac the monk, accused him of extending sympathy and hospitality to Origenists, of instigating the people to sedition, of using unseemly expressions in his sermons, such as “I exult, I am beside myself with joy,” or language which gave a dangerous encouragement to sinners; for example, “as often as you sin come to me and I will heal you.”
By artfully making slight alterations in expressions actually used, and tearing them from their context, it was easy to represent them as mischievous or blasphemous. It is not surprising then that Chrysostom steadfastly refused to answer in person such a list of partly monstrous, partly puerile, accusations before such a synod. He pursued the only dignified course possible under the circumstances. When a notary from the Emperor came to him with a rescript, and showed him the petition inserted in it from the synod, that the Emperor would compel the attendance of the Archbishop; and when, presently, a second deputation from the synod, consisting of a renegade priest of his own clergy, and Isaac the monk, brought a peremptory summons from the synod, he inflexibly maintained the same attitude. “I will not attend a synod which is composed of my enemies, and to which I am summoned by my own clergy. I appeal to a lawfully constituted General Council.” The citations were rapidly repeated three or four times, and always met by the same response. The cabal expended their fury on the messengers of the Archbishop; they beat one bishop, tore the clothes of another, and placed on the neck of a third the chains which they had designed for the person of Chrysostom himself, their intention having been to put him secretly on board ship, and send him off to some remote part of the Empire. Some of the clergy were so much intimidated by these violent proceedings that they dared not return to Constantinople. Demetrius, however, Bishop of Pessina, denounced the conduct of the synod, quitted it, and returned to the Archbishop. After several more ineffectual citations, the synod, at its twelfth session, declared that it would proceed to judgment against Chrysostom as contumacious. Either by a happy coincidence, or by the contrivance of Theophilus, a message arrived from the Court on the same day, urging the bishops to decide the cause as speedily as possible. With much alacrity the request was obeyed. They drew up a despatch to the Emperor—a formal statement: “Whereas John, being accused of crimes, has declined to appear before us, and that in such cases ecclesiastical law pronounces deposition, we have hereby deposed him; but as the indictment against him contains charges of treason as well as ecclesiastical offences, we leave these to be dealt with by you, since it belongs not to us to take cognisance of them.” The synod waited for the Imperial ratification of their verdict, and meanwhile issued a circular to the clergy of Constantinople, informing them of the deposition of their spiritual father.573
Having attained, as he believed, the object of his intrigue, Theophilus went through the form of reconciliation with the “tall brethren” in the presence of the synod. The facility with which they were restored to favour on a simple request for pardon is in strange contrast to the relentless animosity with which they had been hitherto pursued, and indicates that their persecution had been maintained simply as the means to securing a more important victim.
Both Dioscorus and Ammon had recently died, the latter predicting with his dying lips that the Church was about to be distressed by a furious persecution, and torn by a deplorable schism. He was buried in that church of the Apostles, in the suburb of The Oak, where, nine years before, he had baptized the founder, the Prefect Rufinus. The monks of the foundation celebrated his obsequies with great pomp; and Theophilus, his bitter persecutor, condescended to weep over his death, and publicly declare that he had never known a monk of more exalted saintliness.574
The triumph of the synod seemed to be completed by the receipt of an Imperial rescript, ratifying the sentence of deposition, and announcing that the Archbishop would be banished. Many members of the synod were probably disappointed at the mildness of the penalty; but the people of Constantinople were enraged, and impeded the execution of the sentence. It was evening when the impending degradation of their Archbishop became known. During the whole of the night, crowds of people watched outside the Archbishop’s palace and the cathedral to guard against his forcible abduction. Early in the morning they thronged the church, loudly protested against the injustice of the sentence, and demanded with shouts the submission of his cause to a General Council. For three days and nights the flock incessantly guarded their beloved pastor. Under their protection he passed to and from the palace and the church. On the second day he delivered a discourse to them in the cathedral. The first portion of it is in all respects worthy of Chrysostom; the conclusion, involved and rugged, seems to have been added by another hand, and extracts will not be made from it here.575
“Many are the billows, and terrible the storms, which threaten us; but we fear not to be overwhelmed, for we stand upon the rock. Let the sea rage, it cannot dissolve the rock; let the billows rise, they cannot sink the vessel of Jesus Christ. Tell me, what is it we fear? death?—‘To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.’ Or exile?—‘The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.’ Or confiscation of goods?—‘We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.’”... “I fear not poverty, I desire not wealth; I dread not death, I do not pray for life, save for the sake of your advancement. I beseech you be of good courage; no man will be able to separate us, for ‘that which God hath joined together no man can put asunder.’ If man cannot dissolve marriage, how much less the Church of God! Thou, oh my enemy! only renderest me more illustrious, and wastest thine own strength, ‘for it is hard to kick against the pricks.’ Waves do not break the rock, but are themselves dispersed into foam against it. Nothing, oh man! is stronger than the Church, ... it is stronger even than Heaven, ‘for Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.’ What words? ‘Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.’ If thou disbelievest the words, yet believe the facts. How many tyrants have attempted to overcome the Church; how often have wild beasts, and the sword, and the furnace, and the boiling caldron, been employed against it, yet have they not prevailed. Where are those who made war upon it? They have been silenced and consigned to oblivion. Where is the Church? It shines above the brightness of the sun. Let none of the things that have been done disturb you. Grant me one favour only,—unwavering faith. Was not St. Peter on the point of sinking, not because of the uncontrollable onset of the waves, but because of the weakness of his faith? Did man’s votes bring me here, that man should put me down? I say not this in a spirit of boastfulness—God forbid—but in the desire to settle your agitated minds.”... “Let no one trouble you; give heed to your prayers. This disturbance is the devil’s work, that he might destroy your zeal in the sacred Litanies; but he does not succeed. We find you even more earnest than before. To-morrow I shall go out with you in the Litany, for where you are, there I am. Though locally separated, we are in spirit united; we are one body, the body is not separated from its head; even death cannot separate us.”... “For your sakes I am ready to be slaughtered ten thousand times over, since death is to me the warrant of immortality. These intrigues are to me but the occasion of security. I say these things to listening ears; so many days have you watched, and nothing has moved you from your purpose. Neither length of time nor threats have enervated you; you have done what I have always been desiring, despised the things of this world, bidden farewell to earth, released yourselves from the fetters of the body: this is my crown, my consolation, my anointing; this the suggestion to me of immortality.”
Another discourse576 contains much to the same effect, and a declaration of his belief that the real cause of his deposition was his sturdy opposition to the corrupt manners and morals of the age. “You know,” he says, “why they are going to depose me—because I spread no fine carpets, and wear no silken robes; because I have not pampered their gluttony, or made presents in gold and silver.” He would comfort and encourage himself with the prospect of being reckoned among those who had suffered for righteousness’ sake. The cruel and capricious woman, who one day called him “a thirteenth apostle,” and the next “a Judas,” would receive a just retribution for her conduct.
The attachment of the people to the Archbishop, and their sense of the injustice with which he was treated, were so strong that, with his powers of swaying their feelings, he might easily have raised a formidable sedition, and defied, for an indefinite time, the sentence of the synod and the edict of the Emperor. But his sentiments were too loyal, too Christian, too peaceful, for any such desperate and violent measures. He might have continued to demand the reference of his cause to a General Council; but, had this been granted, there was the extreme probability that his enemies would refuse, and persuade many more to refuse, a recognition of its decision. Then would follow one of those melancholy schisms, of which the Church already knew too well the misery. He determined to bow to the storm. On the third day after his deposition by the council, and about noon, when the people were not guarding the approaches to the church quite so vigilantly, he passed out, unperceived, by one of the side entrances, and surrendered himself to some of the Court officials, who conducted him at nightfall to the harbour. In spite of the darkness, he was recognised by some of the people, who followed him with loud cries of distress. He besought them to abstain from the commission of violence, commended them to the care of Jesus Christ, cited the example of Job blessing and thanking God in the midst of trouble, and declared that he patiently waited for the decision of an Œcumenical Council. The vessel in which he embarked conveyed him the same night to Hieron,577 on the Bithynian coast, at the mouth of the Euxine. Perhaps owing to the dangerous proximity of this place to Chalcedon, the headquarters of his enemies, he removed (being apparently uncontrolled in his movements) to a country-house belonging to a friend, near Prænetum, on the Astacene gulf opposite Nicomedia.
When the departure of the Archbishop became generally known on the succeeding day, the indignation of the people burst into a blaze. The places of public resort were thronged with clamorous crowds denouncing the synod and demanding a General Council. They flocked into the churches to pour forth their lamentations, and to invoke the Divine intervention on behalf of their injured Patriarch. A revulsion of feeling in his favour took place among many of the clergy who had hitherto been opposed to him. The arrival of Theophilus with a large retinue was not calculated to allay the agitation. Force was employed to dislodge the people from the churches; the struggle occasioned bloodshed, and even some loss of life, chiefly among monks. The worthless clergy who had been deposed by Chrysostom, some of them for flagrant crimes, were restored by Theophilus. Severian of Gabala mounted a pulpit in one of the churches, and extolled the act of deposition. “Even were the Patriarch,” he said, “guiltless of other offences, the penalty was due to his arrogance, for ‘God resisteth the proud,’ even if He forgave other sins.” The people were furious at this barefaced attempt to justify injustice. They thronged the approaches to the Imperial palace itself, and with loud shouts demanded the restoration of the Patriarch.578
A natural phenomenon, not rare in Constantinople, but regarded under the circumstances as a Divine visitation, opportunely concurred with this demand. The city, the palace, but more especially the bedchamber of the Empress, were agitated by a severe shock of earthquake. The friends of Chrysostom rejoiced at this manifestation of the wrath of Heaven; his enemies were alarmed. The terrified Empress eagerly promoted the demand of the people for the restoration of the exile. Messengers were sent across the Bosporus to seek him, for the exact place of his retreat appears to have been unknown. Briso, the Empress’s chamberlain, a man of Christian piety and a personal friend of Chrysostom, discovered him at Prænetum. He was the bearer of a humble, we might say abject, letter of self-exculpation from the Empress. “Let not your holiness (ἡ ἁγιωσύνη) imagine that I was cognisant of what has been done. I am guiltless of thy blood. Wicked and corrupt men have contrived this plot. I remember the baptism of my children by thy hands. God whom I serve is witness of my tears.” She informs him how she had fallen at the feet of the Emperor, and had represented to him that there was no hope for the Empire except through the restoration of the Archbishop.579
Chrysostom yielded to the solicitation so far as to embark and cross the Bosporus, but he declined at first to advance nearer Constantinople than the suburb of Mariamna, two leagues from the capital by sea. He declared that he would not enter the city until he had been acquitted by a General Council. But the impetuosity of the people would brook no delay. Tidings of his approach had preceded him. The Bosporus was studded with boats crowded with his friends, bearing torches and chanting psalms of welcome. The halt at Mariamna was suspected to be a contrivance of the enemy, who wished to deprive the Patriarch of the honours awaiting him. Their denunciations of the Emperor and Empress grew loud and menacing. An Imperial secretary arrived at Mariamna, urging Chrysostom to enter the city without loss of time. The Archbishop consented, and, attended by about thirty bishops, amidst the acclamations of the populace, was conducted to the Church of the Apostles. Again he remonstrated, and expressed scruples at entering till the sentence of deposition should have been revoked by a legitimate council. But the eagerness of the people was irrepressible. He was borne into the church, and compelled to take his seat on the episcopal throne and pronounce a benediction upon the assembly. When he had complied with their request, they would not be satisfied till he had addressed them in an extempore discourse. The address exists only in a Latin translation. Its brevity, and the abrupt style of the opening sentences, indicate the extemporaneous character of it.580
“What shall I say, or how shall I speak? ‘Blessed be God.’ So spoke I when I departed, and I utter the same again: yea, even in my exile I did not cease to say these words. Ye remember how I quoted Job, and said, ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord for ever.’ Such was the pledge I left with you when I set forth; such is the thanksgiving I repeat on my return. ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord for ever.’ Our lot varies, but our manner of giving glory is one. I gave thanks when I was expelled, I give thanks when I return. The conditions of summer and winter are different, but the end is one—the prosperity of the field. Blessed be God who permitted the storm, blessed be God who has dispersed it and wrought a calm. These things I say, that I may prepare you to bless God at all times. Have good things happened to you? Bless God, and the good remains; have evil things occurred? bless God still, and the evil is removed.”... “Behold what great results have been wrought by the stratagems of my enemies. They have augmented your zeal, inflamed your affectionate longing for me, and procured me lovers in hundreds. Formerly I was beloved by my own people only; now even the Jews pay me respect. My enemies hoped to sever me from my own friends; and, instead, they have brought even aliens into our ranks.”... “To-day the Circensian games take place, but no one is present there; all have poured like a torrent into the church, and your voices are as streams which flow to Heaven and declare your affection towards your father.” He congratulates them on putting the enemy to flight. “Many are the sheep, yet nowhere is the wolf seen; the devouring beasts are overwhelmed, the wolves have fled. Who has pursued them? Not I the shepherd, but ye the sheep. O noble flock! in the absence of the shepherd ye have routed the wolves. O beauty and chastity of the wife! how hast thou repulsed the adulterer, because thou lovedst thy husband!”... “Where are our enemies? in ignominy;—where are we? in triumph.”581
On the following day the Archbishop delivered another address, pitched in the same strain, but amplified and more ornate. It opens with a singular comparison between the meditated seduction of Abraham’s wife by Pharaoh, and the plot of Theophilus to corrupt the chastity of the Church of Constantinople. The courage and faith of the flock in resisting the wolf during the absence of their shepherd, their enthusiastic welcome of his return, when the sea, as he expresses it, became a city (alluding to the crowds who had gone out to meet him on the Bosporus), and the market-place was converted into one vast church—these are again the topics on which he dilates with thankful joy. He applies to himself the verse: “They that sow in tears shall reap in joy; he that now goeth on his way weeping, and beareth forth good seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his sheaves with him.” The Empress is extolled in language which to any but oriental ears must sound painfully fulsome and adulatory. She had sent a message to him on the previous evening, saying, “My prayer is fulfilled, my object accomplished. I have obtained a crown better than the diadem itself. I have received back the priest, I have restored the head to the body, the pilot to the ship, the shepherd to the flock, the husband to the home.” In return for this complimentary greeting (complimentary, it must be confessed, to herself as much as to the Archbishop) she is styled by him “most devout Queen, mother of the churches, nurse of monks, protectress of saints, staff of the poor.” The people were so much delighted with these laudations of the Empress, that the address was constantly interrupted by their acclamations.582
When the object of the Synod at the Oak had eventually failed through the recall of Chrysostom, many of the members lost no time in returning to their several sees. Theophilus and a few of his most resolute partisans appear to have lurked in the city, waiting a possible opportunity for resuming their intrigues. This they attempted, according to two historians,583 by instigating accusations against Heracleides, who had been consecrated Bishop of Ephesus by Chrysostom. The friends of Heracleides and of the Archbishop protested against the illegality of such proceedings in the absence of the defendant. The question was taken up by the populace. Fierce and sanguinary frays were fought in the streets between the citizens and the Alexandrian followers of Theophilus. At length he and his followers consulted their safety by a precipitate flight. This account is not incompatible with the assertion of Chrysostom himself in his letter to Innocent, that after his recall he incessantly demanded the convocation of a General Council to absolve him from the verdict of the false synod, and to reinstate him in possession of his see; that the Emperor consented, and that, as soon as the imperial summonses were issued in all directions, Theophilus, dreading the scrutiny of his conduct, embarked in the dead of night, and sailed in haste for Alexandria.584 The citation of the council, and the hostility of the people, may well have concurred to hasten his departure. The General Council seems never to have regularly assembled. Theophilus was cited to attend it after he had returned to Alexandria, but excused himself on the plea that the Alexandrians were so deeply attached to him, he feared a sedition would take place if he were again to absent himself. No less than sixty bishops, however, who had congregated in Constantinople, though not apparently convened in synodal form, solemnly declared their sense of the illegality and injustice of the late proceedings at the Synod of the Oak, and confirmed Chrysostom in the resumption of his see.
AN IMAGE OF EUDOXIA PLACED IN FRONT OF THE CATHEDRAL—CHRYSOSTOM DENOUNCES IT—ANGER OF THE EMPRESS—THE ENEMY RETURNS TO THE CHARGE—ANOTHER COUNCIL FORMED—CHRYSOSTOM CONFINED TO HIS PALACE—VIOLENT SCENE IN THE CATHEDRAL AND OTHER PLACES—CHRYSOSTOM AGAIN EXPELLED. A.D. 403, 404.
The storm had passed over for the moment, and the atmosphere seemed serene: but in reality it was charged with all the old elements of disturbance. The Archbishop owed his restoration to a mere superstitious impulse on the part of the Empress, seconded by the enthusiastic devotion of the common people to his person and his cause. But as the revulsion of feeling which had led to his recall died away, and he himself resumed with unabated zeal his former work of moral and ecclesiastical reformation, the irritation and animosity of the more corrupt portion of the clergy and laity revived. In two months after his return an occasion arose which brought him into serious collision with the Court. This was the signal for the reappearance of his enemies; they flocked from far and near—Egypt, Syria, Asia, as well as his own more immediate diocese—and swooped down upon their prey with the avidity of vultures.
The pride and ambition of Eudoxia were not satisfied by the enjoyment of a power really greater than her husband’s, and of respect outwardly equal; she was determined to receive that half-idolatrous kind of homage which custom, handed down from Pagan times, still paid to the Emperor, but to him alone. The smaller forum of Constantinople was a great square,585 on one side of which stood the grand curia or senate-house, which Constantine had enriched with the sumptuous spoils of many Pagan temples, and especially with the statues of the Muses brought from the grove of Helicon; opposite to it was the entrance of St. Sophia, and the remaining sides of the forum were bounded by handsome public and a few private buildings all faced with colonnades. In the centre was a stone platform paved with various marbles, from which speeches were delivered on great public occasions. On this platform the Empress determined to gratify her vanity by the erection of a lofty column of porphyry surmounted by a silvern image of herself. This design was accomplished in September a.d. 403, and the erection of the statue was celebrated by all the Pagan ceremonies and festivities, including music and dancing, with which the adoration of the Emperor’s image was usually attended. These rites had been retained by the Christian Emperors because they were supposed to be useful in maintaining a loyal spirit among the people, but the Pagan elements were afterwards suppressed by Theodosius II.586
The position of Eudoxia’s column in front of the vestibule of St. Sophia, and the disturbance caused to the sacred services within by the noisy, tumultuous proceedings outside, were regarded by the Patriarch as a disgrace to an Empress calling herself Christian, an outrage and insult flung in the very face of the Church. He denounced the heathenish ceremony with his usual vehemence before the people, and complained of it to the prefect of the city. The prefect was a Manichæan, and no friend to Chrysostom. Instead of endeavouring to conciliate both parties, he reported to the Empress, probably with some exaggeration, the condemnation pronounced by the Patriarch on the indulgence of her pride. The resentment of Eudoxia was fierce. She rallied the enemies of Chrysostom around her to devise means for crushing the audacious prelate. Acacius, Severian, and others of the old troop were soon upon the scene, and conferring with their old confederates, the Marsas and Castriccias, the rich worldly dames, and the dandy young clergy of Constantinople. There was no diminution meanwhile in the tide of invective poured forth from the golden mouth, and the pungency of his sarcasms did not lose force in the reports of them which were carried to the royal ears.587
Once more the faction applied to the Patriarch of Alexandria, inviting him to come and conduct their operations. But he was too wary to involve himself personally in another campaign, to terminate perhaps in a second ignominious flight. His influence, however, even at a distance, was potent. The stratagem adopted this time was to counterfeit that General Council which had been constantly demanded by Chrysostom; packing it with hostile bishops who were ostensibly convened to revise, but in reality to confirm, the decision issued by the Synod of the Oak. Theophilus, then, having excused attendance at Constantinople in person, sent three “pitiful bishops” (ἐλεείνους ἐπισκόπους), creatures of his own on whom he could rely, to execute his designs.588 They were armed with the 12th Canon of the Council of Antioch held in A.D. 341, which declared that any bishop who, after deposition, appealed to the secular power for restoration, should, for that very act, be regarded by the Church as permanently and irrevocably deposed. The Council of Antioch had been swayed by Arian influence, and this same canon had been aimed against Athanasius, who had returned from exile to Alexandria under the Imperial sanction. It had been repudiated by the Western bishops, and some of the Eastern, at the Council of Sardica, and indeed by all who maintained communion with Athanasius. Theophilus, however, proposed to base the present proceedings against Chrysostom on this foundation; to turn, in fact, against the greatest luminary of Constantinople the engine which had been originally constructed against the greatest ornament of the Alexandrian see. The instrument would work well if proper hands could be procured to work it. Syria, Cappadocia, Pontus, Phrygia, were once more ransacked to supply the council with disaffected prelates. To the old names of Acacius of Berœa, Severian of Gabala, Antiochus and Cyrinus, may be added, as leaders of the malignants, Leontius, bishop of Ancyra in Galatia, Brison of Philippopolis in Thrace, Ammon of Laodicea in Pisidia; among those honourably distinguished as friendly to the Patriarch were Theodore of Tyana, Elpidius of Laodicea, Tranquillus (see unknown), and Alexander of Basilinopolis in Bithynia. Theodore, however, perceiving the malevolent intention with which the council was convoked, quitted Constantinople soon after his arrival.
The council met about the close of the year A.D. 403. It was customary for the Emperor to attend Divine service in state on Christmas Day, but he was induced by the enemies of Chrysostom to refuse on this occasion, alleging that it was impossible to be present where the Patriarch officiated till he had been cleared of the serious charges brought against him. It was proposed at first to affect to meet the demand of Chrysostom for an equitable trial, and to hear all the charges which had been preferred at the Synod of the Oak. But, the witnesses were so backward to appear, and the attitude of the defendant betokened such confidence in his cause, that it was deemed more prudent by his enemies to stake the whole issue on the canon of the Council of Antioch. If that was once admitted, there would be an end of the whole matter. The Archbishop, having been deposed already once for all, was not competent to appear and plead his cause before a council. Chrysostom and his friends opposed the adoption of such a course with two powerful arguments. They represented that the Council of Antioch had been managed by an Arian bishop and influenced by an Arian emperor, and the object of it had been to harass the great Athanasius. In the next place, the Synod of the Oak had been illegally constituted; sixty-five bishops had repudiated its decision; Chrysostom, therefore, was not legally deposed, and the canon of Antioch was in consequence not applicable to his case. This last objection was not permitted by his enemies. Leontius boldly declared, what appears to have been a palpable lie, that a larger number of bishops than sixty-five had voted against Chrysostom in the Synod.589
Thus the question as to the validity of the Council of Antioch became the knot of the whole affair. It was debated with such vehemence on both sides, that at length the adversaries of the Patriarch proposed that a deputation from the two contending parties should plead the case before the Emperor, and submit the decision to him. It may be presumed from their making the proposal that they felt secure of a verdict favourable to their side, and, at the same time, by this step a semblance of impartiality would be imparted to the proceedings. The deputies met in the royal presence. When the heat which marked the beginning of the discussion had cooled down a little, Elpidius of Laodicea with much gentleness of manner made an astute proposal. He was an old man, eminent for stainlessness of character, as well as for learning in ecclesiastical lore. “Let us not,” he said, “weary the clemency of your Majesty any longer; only let our brethren, Acacius and Antiochus, subscribe a declaration that they are of the same faith with those who promulgated these canons, which they maintain to be the production of orthodox men, and the controversy will be at an end.” The Emperor perceived the adroitness of the proposal, and observed with a smile to Antiochus, that the plan struck him as the most expedient which could be devised. Antiochus and his colleagues turned livid with perplexity and rage, but, being fairly caught in the dilemma, were forced to dissemble their feelings, and simulated a willing consent to sign the proposed declaration. The promise was made, but never executed. The deputies retired, and the adversaries of the Patriarch laboured with redoubled energy to procure his final condemnation; but we have no record of any formal session or formally declared sentence. Chrysostom continued to preach and discharge his other functions with, if possible, increased diligence, and still acted as president over the floating synod of more than forty bishops who constantly adhered to his cause. His enemies, on the other hand, acted as if the sentence of condemnation had been passed, and continually requested the Emperor to put it into execution.590
A.D. 404. As Easter approached, they became more importunate in their demand. They dreaded the demonstrations which might be made in favour of their victim by the large congregations which on Holy Saturday and Easter Day were wont to assemble in the churches. They succeeded in prevailing on the Emperor to prohibit the Patriarch, as having been deposed and excommunicated by two councils, from entering or officiating in the church at Easter-tide. Chrysostom had always expressed an earnest desire to be tried before a lawful council, and to abide by its decision. This request had been systematically evaded even when ostensibly complied with. His whole soul rebelled with honest indignation against these insidious and persistent attempts to misrepresent his conduct, and he determined now to resist them by taking his stand on the lofty ground of his Divine mission. “I received this church from God my Saviour, and am charged with the care of the salvation of this flock, nor am I at liberty to abandon it. Expel me by force if you will, since the city belongs to you, that I may have your authority as an excuse for deserting my post.”591
The Emperor, though with some shame, sent officials who removed the Archbishop from the church to his palace, with a strict injunction that he should not attempt to leave it. This was a cautious preliminary to final expulsion, suggested by superstitious dread of any earthquake or other manifestation of Divine displeasure. Should any such occur again, the Archbishop could be released in a moment; if not, they might proceed to further measures.
Easter Eve arrived, the greatest day in the year for the baptism of converts. Three thousand were to be “initiated” this year. Chrysostom was again commanded to abstain from entering the church, but answered according to the tenor of his former reply, that he would not desist from officiating unless compelled by actual force. The feeble Arcadius was alarmed, and hesitated how to act. He scrupled to use force on so sacred a day, and dreaded an insurrection of the populace. As usual, he tried to shift responsibility from his own shoulders. He sent for Acacius and Antiochus, and requested their advice in the present emergency. They were too far committed now to draw back, and promptly replied that they would take on their heads the deposition of the Archbishop.
One more effort was made to avert the impending calamity. The forty bishops who maintained a close friendship with Chrysostom accosted the Emperor and Empress as they were visiting, according to their custom at this season, some of the martyr chapels outside the city. They entreated their majesties with tears to spare the Church her chief pastor, especially on account of the season, and for the sake of those who were about to be baptized. But Arcadius and Eudoxia turned a deaf ear to their piteous appeal. The bishops retired, grief-stricken, to mourn over the wrongs of their Church and Patriarch; but not before one of them, Paul, bishop of Crateia, had lifted up his voice in bold and solemn warning:—“Take heed, Eudoxia; fear God; have pity on your children. Do not outrage by bloodshed the sacred and solemn festival of Jesus Christ.”592
The church of St. Sophia became the scene, on the night of that Easter Eve, of shocking tumult. A vast congregation from the city and surrounding towns, including many of the catechumens, was keeping vigil to greet the dawn of the Resurrection morning. Suddenly a body of soldiers burst in with noise and violence, and took possession of the choir. The confusion may be imagined. Women and children fled shrieking in wild disorder. Many of the female catechumens, only half-dressed, in preparation for the reception of baptism, were hurriedly driven out of the baptistry with the deaconesses who attended them. Some were even wounded, and the sacred fonts stained with blood. Some of the soldiers, unbaptized men, penetrated even to the chamber where the Eucharistic elements were kept, and profaned them with their gaze and touch. The clergy were forcibly ejected in their vestments, and several were wounded. The pitiable spectacle of the mingled troop of men, women, children, and clergy, violently chased along the streets by the brutal soldiery, moved even Jews and Gentiles to compassion. The clergy, however, rallied the scattered flock in the Baths of Constantine, the largest public baths in the city. Here they proceeded with the Easter services in due order; some reading the Scriptures, others baptizing. The churches of Constantinople were deserted, which the adversary wished to force the people to attend in the absence of the Archbishop, in the hope that the Court might thus suppose him to be unpopular.
Such is the description of these violent scenes as drawn by the pen of Chrysostom himself, in a letter593 written soon after the occurrences, and addressed to Innocent I., bishop of Rome, Venerius, bishop of Milan, and Chromatius, bishop of Aquileia. “You may imagine the rest,” he concludes; “great as these calamities are, there is no prospect of their immediate termination; on the contrary, the evil extends every day. The spirit of insubordination is rapidly spreading from the capital to the provinces, from the head to the members. Clergy rebel against their bishop, and one bishop assails another. People are, or soon will be, split into factions. All places are racked by the throes of coming trouble, and the confusion is universal. Having been informed of all these things, then, my most reverend and prudent lords, display, I pray you, the courage and zeal which becomes you in restraining this lawlessness which has crept into the churches. For if it were to become a prevailing and allowable custom, for any at their pleasure to pass into foreign and distant dioceses, and to expel whomsoever any one may choose, and act as they like on their own private authority, be sure that all discipline will go to pieces, and a kind of implacable warfare will pervade the world, all expelling or being themselves expelled. Wherefore, to prevent the subjection of the world to such confusion, I beseech you to enjoin that these acts so illegally performed in my absence, when I had not declined fair judgment, may be reckoned invalid, as indeed in the nature of things they are, and that those who have been detected taking part in these iniquitous proceedings may be subjected to the penalty of ecclesiastical law; while we who have not been proved guilty may continue to enjoy your correspondence and friendship as aforetime.” He closes his letter by affirming that he was still prepared to prove his innocence and the guilt of his accusers before a legally constituted council.
This letter is interesting not only in itself, but because it illustrates remarkably the growing tendency of Christendom to appeal to the arbitration of the Western Church, and especially of the Bishop of Rome, in matters of ecclesiastical discipline. The law-making, law-protecting spirit of the West is invoked to restrain the turbulence and licentiousness of the East. The Patriarch of the Eastern Rome appeals to the great bishops of the West, as the champions of an ecclesiastical discipline which he confesses himself unable to enforce, or to see any prospect of establishing. No jealousy is entertained of the Patriarch of the old Rome by the Patriarch of the new. The interference of Innocent is courted, a certain primacy is accorded him, but at the same time he is not addressed as a supreme arbitrator; assistance and sympathy are solicited from him as from an elder brother, and two other prelates of Italy are joint recipients with him of the appeal. The effect of this letter will shortly be related; for the present, the course of events at Constantinople must be followed.
It did not suit the purpose of Acacius and his party to allow the congregation which had been hunted out of St. Sophia to proceed with their service in the baths unmolested. If the Emperor entered the church in the morning and found it deserted, the vacancy on so great a day would reveal too plainly the intense devotion of the people to their bishop. The aim of the conspirators was to force the people to attend the services, which were to be marked by the absence of Chrysostom alone. They accordingly applied to Anthemius, Master of the Offices, to disperse the congregation, if necessary by force. Anthemius, however, was a moderate, prudent man, and kindly disposed towards the Patriarch. He refused to interfere, pleading the advanced hour of the night, the vastness of the assembly, and the risk of serious tumult. He yielded, however, to their persevering and urgent demands so far as to direct Lucius, a subordinate officer, commander of a Thracian corps called the Scutarii, to present himself with his troops at the entrance of the baths, and exhort the people to return to the church, as the more proper place for conducting the services. He was strictly charged to abstain from violence. He acted on his instructions, and harangued the congregation, but without effect. The chanting of the Psalms and the administration of baptism to crowds of catechumens were proceeded with. Lucius returned and reported his errand ineffectual. Acacius and his colleagues urged him with all their eloquence, and with promises of rich reward, probably more effective than their golden words, to make another effort, and to use force if persuasion were not regarded. They gave him some ecclesiastics to accompany him and, as it were, sanction their proceedings. Whether they began by exhortation is not recorded; at any rate, if it was given, no attention was paid to it, and it was quickly seconded by barbarian violence. Lucius himself pushed his way to the place of baptism, and laid about him with a truncheon upon candidates, deacons, and priests, some of them aged men, and dispersed them in all directions. The soldiers seized and plundered the women of their ornaments, the clergy of their vestments, and the sacred vessels belonging to the Church; they beat the fugitives and dragged them off to the prisons. The natural solitude and silence of the streets, in the hour immediately preceding dawn, were disturbed by the cries of the captives and the shouts of their brutal captors.
In the morning the street walls were covered with proclamations, menacing with severe punishment any who persisted in maintaining intercourse with the Patriarch.594
The baths were effectually emptied of the congregation; but to fill the churches could not so easily be accomplished; in fact, they were entirely deserted. Large numbers of the dispersed congregation who had escaped the hands of the soldiers fled outside the walls of Constantinople, and, with indefatigable zeal, sought to complete the celebration of the Paschal rites as best they could in the secure recesses of woods or valleys. A large number assembled in a field called Pempton, because five miles from the Forum of Constantine, an open space surrounded by wood and intended to be used as a Hippodrome. In the course of the day—Easter Day—the Emperor and his retinue happened to ride, or perhaps were maliciously conducted, near the spot. The eye of Arcadius was attracted by the sight of a large body of people, many of them clothed in white, crowded together outside the Hippodrome. Unhappily, the Emperor was attended by courtiers inimical to the Archbishop. They replied to his inquiries respecting the nature of the concourse, that it was a body of heretics who had met to worship there in order to escape interference. Arcadius was weak enough to allow, without further inquiry, a number of soldiers who formed part of his escort to ride in upon the assembly and seize the most conspicuous leaders. A number of priests were captured, and several rich and noble ladies, whom the soldiers despoiled of their head-dresses and earrings with great barbarity, in one instance even tearing away with the appendage a portion of the ear itself.
One more attempt was made to assemble in a wooden hippodrome, built by Constantine, called the Xulodrome; but once more they were driven out, and hunted from place to place with relentless diligence. These repeated assaults broke up the flock of Chrysostom; the prisons were filled with the Johnites, as they were called after the name of their bishop, and the churches were empty. The prison walls echoed to the sound of the chants and hymns of the martyrs, but the churches to the noise of scourge and fierce threats administered to those who ventured to enter. This was done in the hope that they might be coerced by torture to anathematise the Archbishop.595
He himself, however, meanwhile continued to reside two months in his palace, though not without risk. Twice, as it was believed, attempts were made to assassinate him, but frustrated. Suspicion fell first on a man who affected demoniacal possession, and hovered much about the precincts of the palace. A dagger was found upon his person; the people seized him and dragged him before the prefect; but Chrysostom procured his release through the intercession of some bishops, just as he was about to be examined by torture. A second attempt was supposed to be intended by a slave, who ran at full speed towards the entrance of the palace, and plunged a dagger, in some instances with fatal effect, into several passers-by who endeavoured to stop him. He was at last surrounded and captured by the people, when he confessed that he had been bribed by his master, a priest named Elpidius, to try and assassinate the Archbishop. The fury of the people was appeased by the imprisonment of the man; but they now resolved to take the protection of their Archbishop into their own hands. They divided themselves into companies, which kept watch by turns, night and day, over the episcopal palace. The hostile party, dreading any further impediments to the execution of their iniquitous sentence, now hurried matters to their conclusion. Five days after Pentecost, four bishops—Acacius, Antiochus, Severian, and Cyrinus—obtained an interview with the Emperor. They represented that the city never would be tranquil till the removal of the Archbishop had been effected, and that his remaining in the palace after his condemnation was a gross violation of ecclesiastical law. They avowed themselves willing to take the responsibility of his deposition on their own heads, and besought the Emperor not to be more lenient and concessive than were bishops and priests.596
June, A.D. 404. The long-hoped-for mandate was at length issued. It was conveyed to the Archbishop by the notary Patricius, and informed him that Acacius and three other bishops having charged themselves with the responsibility of his deposition, he must commend himself to God, and quit the church and the palace without delay. The martyr received the cruel order with meek submission, and prepared to act upon it with prompt obedience. He passed from his palace to his church, saying to the bishops who accompanied him, “Come, let us pray and say farewell to the Angel of the Church. At my own fate I can rejoice, I only grieve for the sorrow of the people.” One of his friends, a nobleman, conveyed a warning to him to avoid by a secret departure the risk of exciting popular tumult. He informed him that Lucius was waiting with troops in one of the public baths to compel his removal in the event of any delay or resistance, and that the consequences of any attempt at a rescue by the populace might be serious.
Chrysostom acted on his advice. He entered the choir with his friendly bishops, bestowed on them a farewell kiss and farewell words; then bidding them wait for him there while he went to repose, he entered the baptistry, and sent for the deaconesses, Olympias, Pentadia, Procla, and Salvina. “Come hither, my daughters,” he said, “and hearken to me: my career, I perceive, is coming to an end; I have finished my course, and perchance ye will see my face no more. Now I exhort you to this: let not any of you break off her accustomed benevolence towards the Church. If any man is appointed my successor without having canvassed the office, and against his own will, but by the common consent of all, submit to his authority as if he were Chrysostom himself; so may ye obtain mercy. Remember me in your prayers.” The women threw themselves at his feet dissolved in tears. The Archbishop made a sign to one of the priests to remove the women, lest, as he said, their wailing should attract the attention of the people outside. He directed that the mule on which he was accustomed to ride should be saddled and taken to the western gate of the cathedral; and while the people’s attention was diverted by this feint, he passed out, unobserved, by a small door near the east end, and surrendered himself to some soldiers who were at hand to convey him to the port. So he departed from the church, the scene of his indefatigable labours, whose walls were never again to resound to his eloquence. He went out, and, in the emphatic words of the historian to whose narrative we are indebted for the minute picture of these occurrences, “the Angel of the Church went out with him.” Two bishops, Cyriacus of Synnada in Phrygia, and Eulysius of Apamea in Bithynia, accompanied him on board the vessel which conveyed him across the straits to the Bithynian coast.597
FURY OF THE PEOPLE AT THE REMOVAL OF CHRYSOSTOM—DESTRUCTION OF THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH AND SENATE-HOUSE BY FIRE—PERSECUTION OF CHRYSOSTOM’S FOLLOWERS—FUGITIVES TO ROME—LETTERS OF INNOCENT TO THEOPHILUS—TO THE CLERGY OF CONSTANTINOPLE—TO CHRYSOSTOM—DEPUTATION OF WESTERN BISHOPS TO CONSTANTINOPLE REPULSED—SUFFERINGS OF THE EASTERN CHURCH—TRIUMPH OF THE CABAL. A.D. 404, 405.
The people, meanwhile, both within the church and outside, were not long in discovering that the Archbishop had disappeared from the building and its precincts. They became furiously agitated: some rushed to the harbour, but too late to obstruct the embarkation. The doors of the cathedral, which had been locked by some of the cabal, who anticipated a rush of the people as soon as the departure of Chrysostom should have been discovered, were fiercely battered by the crowd on both sides. Jews and Pagans looked on, and jeered derisively at the tumult. The horror of this scene of wild confusion was suddenly increased by the apparition of fire bursting forth from the building. How kindled, by accident or design, it is impossible to determine. Each party fiercely charged the other with the guilt of the catastrophe, and some attributed it to miraculous interference of heavenly powers. The conflagration broke out in or near the throne of the Archbishop, which it consumed, and then spread to the roof. In three hours the edifice, whose erection and embellishment had been the work of many years, was reduced to a heap of cinders. The only portion not destroyed was the treasury which contained the sacred vessels of silver and gold, as if expressly to confute one of the charges made against the Archbishop, that he had sold all the most valuable ornaments belonging to the church. Germanus and Cassian, the custodians of the treasury, when they fled to Rome, carried with them a copy of the inventory of all these articles, which, when they surrendered their office, had been handed over to the prefect and some of the other chief functionaries of the city.
The conflagration, however, did not confine itself to the cathedral. A violent north wind carried the flames across the Forum, and ignited the great curia or senate-house; not, however, that side of it which faced the cathedral, but the further side, which looked into the little forum where the royal palace was situated. The whole senate-house was destroyed. The statues of the Muses which Constantine had brought from Helicon were consumed, and all the other principal adornments. The images of Zeus and Athene alone were found intact, beneath a heap of ruins and of masses of molten lead which had dropped upon them from the burning roof.598
The real or affected suspicion that the Archbishop and his flock were the incendiaries was quite a sufficient pretext for treating them with rigour. He himself, with Cyriacus and Eulysius, was detained in chains under a strict guard in Bithynia. These two companions were taken from him and conveyed bound to Chalcedon, but after examination were dismissed as innocent. But at Constantinople the persecution was enforced with merciless severity under the auspices of Optatus, a Pagan, now prefect in the place of Studius. All the followers of the Archbishop, clerical and lay, high and low, were subjected, if caught, to rigorous inquisition, and most of them to severe punishment. Chrysostom wrote a letter from Bithynia to the Emperor, imploring that he might at least be allowed to appear and defend himself and his clergy from the atrocious charge of incendiarism, but the letter received no attention; and as the poor exile continued his journey to Nice, his sufferings were enhanced by pitiable intelligence of the persecution inflicted on bishops, priests, and deacons who refused to anathematise him or recognise the validity of his deposition. But the spirit of the exile was not only brave to support his own troubles, but could spare some of its energy to encourage those, who were suffering in his cause, to patience, fortitude, resignation, and even joy.599
In times of religious persecution, the language of the New Testament, about the blessedness of tribulation as a pledge of future happiness and a means of preparation for it, comes home to men’s hearts with a reality and force which seem to exceed our present application of it to the troubles and sorrows of ordinary life. Those who were firmly persuaded that their cause was the cause of truth and of Jesus Christ read the words, “Blessed are ye when ye are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,” or, “Happy are ye when men revile you and persecute you,” as if spoken directly to themselves; and they really did “rejoice in that day, and leap for joy.” Such are the texts which Chrysostom cites for the consolation of his suffering friends. He speaks of their exposure to intimidation by threats, imprisonment, frequent appearance in judges’ courts, torture at the hands of the executioner, shameless false evidence, coarse ribaldry, and scurrilous jests; but “blessed were they, yea, thrice blessed, and more than that, to endure imprisonment and chains, for not only was their fortitude the subject of admiration everywhere, but their present sufferings were the measure of their future happiness, and their names had been inscribed in the Book of Life.”600
The destruction of the church and senate-house was the first pretext for instituting persecution against the adherents of Chrysostom; the second was, their refusal to recognise his successor. One week after his deposition, Arsacius, brother of Nectarius the predecessor of Chrysostom, was, apparently by the simple exercise of Imperial authority, elevated to the see. He was eighty years old, and is quaintly described by Palladius as “muter than a fish, and more incapable than a frog.”601 The probable aim of the Empress was to secure a man whose servility might be depended on. His brother, Nectarius, had once desired to make him Bishop of Tarsus; and, on his declining to accept the promotion, had taunted him with ambitiously reserving himself for the see of Constantinople; whereupon Arsacius had taken an oath that he never would accept any bishopric. But ambition and Imperial authority overcame his scruples. He is described by the historians as a man of pious disposition and mild conduct; with one exception: that he persecuted with relentless vigour the contumacious adherents of his predecessor. By Chrysostom he is denounced as a wolf, and in a figurative sense as an adulterer, on account of his usurpation of the see during the lifetime of its legitimate occupant.602 Arsacius applied to the civil powers for assistance to compel the Johnites to attend the churches where he and his clergy officiated. A tribune was directed to attack a body of them who had assembled for worship in some remote part of the city. The soldiers dispersed the assembly, took several of the most eminent persons prisoners, and, as usual, stripped the women of their golden girdles, jewels, and earrings. The only consequence of this was, that the Johnites became more attached to the cause and memory of their late Archbishop. Some of them fled the city, and many more refrained as much as possible from appearing in public places, such as the Forum and the baths. Meetings of some kind for worship were not discontinued, or were soon resumed, for we find Chrysostom, in one of his letters written during his exile, reproving two priests, Theophilus and Salustius, for slackness in attending such assemblies.603 But worshippers ran great risks. The prefect Optatus, who succeeded Studius, probably because the latter was considered too lenient, appears to have entertained all the animosity of a thorough Pagan against Christians, and to have rejoiced in the present opportunity of inflicting sufferings upon them. He combined the two charges of incendiarism and contumacy in his prosecution of the Johnites, and endeavoured to extort confessions of guilt from his victims with merciless barbarity.
A few instances are recorded, and they are quite enough to sicken us of the tale of such horrors. Eutropius, a reader, was commanded to name the persons who had set fire to the church. He refused. He was young and delicate, and it was thought a confession might be wrung from him under the agony of torture. He was lashed with a scourge, his cheeks were scraped, and his sides lacerated with iron teeth, after which lighted torches were applied to the wounded parts. No information could be extorted from him: he was therefore conveyed to prison, and thrown into a dungeon, where he expired. Some priests, adherents of Arsacius, buried him by night, that his mangled body might not be seen by any eyes but those of his enemies. Celestial music was said to have been heard at the time of his interment.
Tigrius, the priest, whose presence with Serapion had been demanded at the Synod of the Oak, was another victim. He was stripped, scourged on his back, and then stretched on the rack till his bones were dislocated. He survived the torture, and was banished to Mesopotamia. Serapion himself, now bishop of Heraclea in Thrace, was seized, tried on several calumnious charges, barbarously scourged, and sent into exile.
Those ladies also who were most distinguished for their friendship with the deposed Archbishop, and for the dedication of their time and money to the Church, were marked objects of persecution. They were brought before the prefect, and admonished by him to acknowledge Arsacius, and so save themselves from future annoyance. A few from timidity complied; but Olympias, who was subjected to a severer examination, confronted it with a dauntless spirit. She was bluntly asked why she had set fire to the “Great Church.” “My manner of life,” replied the accused, “is a sufficient refutation of such a charge; a person who has expended large sums of money to restore and embellish the churches of God is not likely to burn and demolish them.” “I know your past course of life well,” cried the prefect. “If you know aught against it, then descend from your place there as judge, and come forward as my accuser,” replied the undaunted Olympias. Perceiving that she was not to be browbeaten, Optatus proposed the same course to her which had been adopted by some other women as a means of exemption from further persecution, namely, communion with Arsacius; but she scornfully rejected the base compromise. “I have been publicly calumniated by a charge which cannot be proven, and I will not accede to any terms till I have been cleared from this accusation. Even if you resort to force, I will not hold communion with those from whom I ought to secede, nor do anything contrary to the principles of my holy religion.” She made a request, which was granted, that she might be allowed a few days to consult with lawyers on the proper means of legally refuting the libellous accusation. The prefect, however (on what pretence is not stated), sent for her again, and exacted a heavy fine, in the hope that she would be induced to yield. The fine was paid without any reluctance, but her refusal to acknowledge the usurper was inflexible; and to avoid, if possible, further pressure and persecution, she retired to Cyzicus, on the other side of the straits.604
The tidings of her fortitude and loyalty were conveyed to the exiled Chrysostom, and so cheered his spirit in the midst of depression and sickness that his sufferings seemed to him as nothing. “When many men and women, old and young, highly reputed for their virtue, had turned their backs on the enemy almost before the conflict had begun, she, on the other hand, after many encounters, so far from being enervated, was even invigorated; she spread forth the sails of patience, and floated securely as on a calm sea; so far from being overwhelmed by the storm, she was scarcely sprinkled by the spray. In the seclusion of her little house she was able to inspire courage into the hearts of others, and had been to them a haven of comfort and a tower of strength.”605
The deaconess Pentadia, widow of the consul Timasius, was another victim. She led the life of a recluse, never going beyond the walls of her house except to church. She was now dragged from her retreat through the Forum to the prefect’s tribunal, and thence to prison, charged with being an accomplice in the late fire. Several persons were put to the torture before her eyes, in order to intimidate her into a confession; but in vain. Her firm demeanour, courageous answers, and powerful demonstrations of her innocence, confounded and silenced her adversaries, and elicited the admiration of the public. Beyond imprisonment, no indignities seem to have been inflicted on her; and when desirous to quit the capital, she was persuaded by Chrysostom to remain, who represented the great value of her presence and example in animating others to undergo their present afflictions. She had apparently intended to try and join him in his place of exile, when he had been removed to Cucusus, on the confines of Lesser Armenia, for he dwells on the great risk to her delicate health from a journey in winter, and the danger of being plundered by the Isaurian robbers, who were just then, he says, in a powerful condition. He, therefore, on all grounds, begs her to remain where she is, but to relieve his mind from anxiety about her affairs and health by constantly writing to him.606
Meanwhile, the injured Church of Constantinople did not cease through letters and emissaries to solicit the interference of the Western Church. The first intimation of the calamities we have been describing which reached the ears of Rome was through a messenger despatched by Theophilus. The letter which he brought was inscribed “From Pope Theophilus to Pope Innocent,” and stated in the barest manner, without assigning his reasons or mentioning any assessors in his judgment, that he had deposed Chrysostom, and that it behoved Innocent to break off communion with him. The Pope was displeased by the cool and curt character of the letter, and somewhat perplexed how to notice or reply to so inexplicit a despatch. Eusebius, a deacon from Constantinople, who was in Rome at the time on some ecclesiastical business, obtained an interview with Innocent, and entreated him not to act till information should be received from Constantinople, which, he added (on what grounds does not appear), he had good reason to expect would arrive in a short time. Three days afterwards four bishops did arrive, bearing the letter from Chrysostom to Innocent which contained that pathetic and perspicuous narrative of the recent occurrences, from which extracts have been made in the preceding chapter. They brought two other letters, one from the forty friendly bishops, another from the clergy of Constantinople.