Death of Gratian—Ruin of Arianism—St. Ambrose— First Civil War, against Maximus—Character, Administration, and Penance of Theodosius—Death of Valentinian II.—Second Civil War, against Eugenius—Death of Theodosius
Character and conduct of the emperor Gratian (A.D. 379-383)
THE fame of Gratian, before he had accomplished the twentieth year of his age, was equal to that of the most celebrated princes. His gentle and amiable disposition endeared him to his private friends, the graceful affability of his manners engaged the affection of the people; the men of letters, who enjoyed the liberality, acknowledged the taste and eloquence, of their sovereign; his valour and dexterity in arms were equally applauded by the soldiers; and the clergy considered the humble piety of Gratian as the first and most useful of his virtues. The victory of Colmar had delivered the West from a formidable invasion, and the grateful provinces of the East ascribed the merits of Theodosius to the author of his greatness and of the public safety. Gratian survived those memorable events only four or five years, but he survived his reputation, and, before he fell a victim to rebellion, he had lost, in a great measure, the respect and confidence of the Roman world.
His defects
The remarkable alteration of his character or conduct may not be imputed to the arts of flattery, which had besieged the son of Valentinian from his infancy, nor to the headstrong passion which that gentle youth appears to have
escaped. A more attentive view of the life of Gratian may perhaps suggest the true cause of the disappointment of the public hopes. His apparent virtues, instead of being the hardy productions of experience and adversity, were the
premature and artificial fruits of a royal education. The anxious tenderness of his father was continually employed to bestow on him those advantages which he might perhaps esteem the more highly as he himself had been deprived of them, and the most skilful masters of every science and of every art had laboured to form the mind and body of the young prince. (1) The knowledge which they painfully communicated was displayed with ostentation and celebrated with lavish praise. His soft and tractable disposition received the fair impression of their judicious precepts, and the absence of passion might easily be mistaken for the strength of reason. His preceptors gradually rose to the rank and consequence of ministers of state, (2) and, as they wisely dissembled their secret authority, he seemed to act with firmness, with
propriety, and with judgment on the most important occasions
of his life and reign. But the influence of this elaborate
instruction did not penetrate beyond the surface, and the
skilful preceptors, who so accurately guided the steps of
their royal pupil, could not infuse into his feeble and
indolent character the vigorous and independent principle of
action which renders the laborious pursuit of glory
essentially necessary to the happiness and almost to the
existence of the hero. As soon as time and accident had
removed those faithful counsellors from the throne, the
emperor of the West insensibly descended to the level of his
natural genius, abandoned the reins of government to the
ambitious hands which were stretched forwards to grasp them,
and amused his leisure with the most frivolous
gratifications. A public sale of favour and injustice was
instituted, both in the court and in the provinces, by the
worthless delegates of his power, whose merit it was made
sacrilege to question. (3) The conscience of the credulous prince was directed by saints and bishops,(4) who procured an Imperial edict to punish, as a capital offence, the
violation, the neglect, or even the ignorance of the divine
law.(5) Among the various arts which had exercised the youth
of Gratian, he had applied himself, with singular
inclination and success, to manage the horse, to draw the
bow, and to dart the javelin; and these qualifications,
which might be useful to a soldier, were prostituted to the
viler purposes of hunting. Large parks were enclosed for the
Imperial pleasures, and plentifully stocked with every
species of wild beasts, and Gratian neglected the duties and
even the dignity of his rank to consume whole days in the
vain display of his dexterity and boldness in the chase. The
pride and wish of the Roman emperor to excel in an art in
which he might be surpassed by the meanest of his slaves
reminded the numerous spectators of the examples of Nero and
Commodus; but the chaste and temperate Gratian was a
stranger to their monstrous vices, and his hands were
stained only with the blood of animals.(6)
Discontents of the Roman troops, A.D. 383.
The behaviour of Gratian, which degraded his character in
the eyes of mankind, could not have disturbed the security
of his reign if the army had not been provoked to resent
their peculiar injuries. As long as the young emperor was
guided by the instructions of his masters, he professed
himself the friend and pupil of the soldiers; many of his
hours were spent in the familiar conversation of the camp,
and the health, the comforts, the rewards, the honours of
his faithful troops, appeared to be the object of his
attentive concern. But, after Gratian more freely indulged
his prevailing taste for hunting and shooting, he naturally
connected himself with the most dexterous ministers of his
favourite amusement. A body of the Alani was received into
the military and domestic service of the palace, and the
admirable skill which they were accustomed to display in the
unbounded plains of Scythia was exercised on a more narrow
theatre in the parks and enclosures of Gaul. Gratian admired
the talents and customs of these favourite guards, to whom
alone he intrusted the defence of his person; and, as if he
meant to insult the public opinion, he frequently showed
himself to the soldiers and people with the dress and arms,
the long bow, the sounding quiver, and the fur garments of a
Scythian warrior. The unworthy spectacle of a Roman prince
who had renounced the dress and manners of his country
filled the minds of the legions with grief and indignation.
(7) Even the Germans, so strong and formidable in the armies
of the empire, affected to disdain the strange and horrid
appearance of the savages of the North, who, in the space of
a few years, had wandered from the banks of the Volga to
those of the Seine. A loud and licentious murmur was echoed
through the camps and garrisons of the West; and as the mild
indolence of Gratian neglected to extinguish the first
symptoms of discontent, the want of love and respect was not
supplied by the influence of fear. But the subversion of an
established government is always a work of some real, and of
much apparent difficulty; and the throne of Gratian was
protected by the sanctions of custom, law, religion, and the
nice balance of the civil and military powers which had been established by the policy of Constantine. It is not very important to inquire from what causes the revolt of Britain was produced. Accident is commonly the parent of disorder: the seeds of rebellion happened to fall on a soil which was supposed to be more fruitful than any other in tyrants and usurpers;(8)Revolt of Maximus in Britain the legions of that sequestered island had been long famous for a spirit of presumption and arrogance;(9) and the name of Maximus was proclaimed by the tumultuary but unanimous voice both of the soldiers and of the provincials. The emperor, or the rebel, for his title was not yet ascertained by fortune, was a native of Spain, the countryman, the fellow-soldier, and the rival of Theodosius, whose elevation he had not seen without some emotions of envy and resentment; the events of his life had long since fixed him in Britain, and I should not be unwilling to find some evidence; for the marriage which he is said to have contracted with the daughter of a wealthy lord of Caernarvonshire.(10) But this provincial rank might justly be considered as a state of exile and obscurity, and, if Maximus had obtained any civil or military office, he was not invested with the authority either of governor or general. (11) His abilities and even his integrity are acknowledged by the partial writers of the age, and the merit must indeed have been conspicuous that could extort
such a confession in favour of the vanquished enemy of Theodosius. The discontent of Maximus might incline him to censure the conduct of his sovereign, and to encourage, perhaps without any views of ambition, the murmurs of the troops. But in the midst of the tumult he artfully or
modestly refused to ascend the throne, and some credit appears to have been given to his own positive declaration that he was compelled to accept the dangerous present of the Imperial purple.(12)
Flight and death of Gratian.
But there was danger likewise in refusing the empire, and,
from the moment that Maxim had violated his allegiance to
his lawful sovereign, he could not hope to reign, or even to
live if he confined his moderate ambition within the narrow
limits of Britain. He boldly and wisely resolved to prevent
the designs of Gratian; the youth of the island crowded to
his standard, and he invaded Gaul with a fleet and army
which were long afterwards remembered as the emigration of a
considerable part of the British nation.(13) The emperor, in
his peaceful residence of Paris, was alarmed by their
hostile approach, and the darts which he idly wasted on
lions and bears might have been employed more honourably
against the rebels. But his feeble efforts announced his
degenerate spirit and desperate situation, and deprived him
of the resources which he still might have found in the
support of his subjects and allies. The armies of Gaul,
instead of opposing the march of Maximus. received him with
joyful and loyal acclamations, and the shame of the
desertion was transferred from the people to the prince. The
troops whose station more immediately attached them to the
service of the palace abandoned the standard of Gratian the
first time that it was displayed in the neighbourhood of
Paris. The emperor of the West fled towards Lyons with a
train of only three hundred horse, and in the cities along
the road, where he hoped to find a refuge, or at least a
passage, he was taught by cruel experience that every gate
is shut against the unfortunate. Yet he might still have
reached in safety the dominions of his brother, and soon
have returned with the forces of Italy, and the East, if he
had not suffered himself to be fatally deceived by the
perfidious governor of the Lyonnese province. Gratian was
amused by protestations of doubtful fidelity, and the hopes
of a support which could not be effectual, till the arrival
of Andragathius, the general of the cavalry of Maximus, put
an end to his suspense. That resolute officer executed,
without remorse, the orders or the intentions of the
usurper. A.D. 383, August 25. Gratian, as he rose from supper, was delivered into the hands of the assassin, and his body was denied to the
pious and pressing entreaties of his brother Valentinian.(14)
The death of the emperor was followed by that of his
powerful general Mellobaudes, the king of the Franks, who
maintained to the last moment of his life the ambiguous
reputation which is the just recompense of obscure and
subtle policy.(15) These executions might be necessary to the
public safety, but the successful usurper, whose power was
acknowledged by all the provinces of the West, had the merit
and the satisfaction of boasting that, except those who had
perished by the chance of war, his triumph was not stained
by the blood of the Romans.(16)
Treaty of peace between Maximus and Theodosius, A.D. 383-387.
The events of this revolution had passed in such rapid
succession that it would have been impossible for Theodosius
to march to the relief of his benefactor before he received
the intelligence of his defeat and death. During the season
of sincere grief or ostentatious mourning the Eastern
emperor was interrupted by the arrival of the principal
chamberlain of Maximus, and the choice of a venerable old
man for an office which was usually exercised by eunuchs
announced to the court of Constantinople the gravity and
temperance of the British usurper. The ambassador
condescended to justify or excuse the conduct of his master,
and to protest, in specious language, that the murder of
Gratian had been perpetrated, without his knowledge or
consent, by the precipitate zeal of the soldiers. But he
proceeded, in a firm and equal tone, to offer Theodosius the
alternative of peace or war. The speech of the ambassador
concluded with a spirited declaration that, although
Maximus, as a Roman and as the father of his people, would
choose rather to employ his forces in the common defence of
the republic, he was armed and prepared, if his friendship
should be rejected, to dispute in a field of battle the
empire of the world. An immediate and peremptory answer was
required, but it was extremely difficult for Theodosius to
satisfy, on this important occasion, either the feelings of
his own mind or the expectations of the public. The
imperious voice of honour and gratitude called aloud for
revenge. From the liberality of Gratian he had received the
Imperial diadem; his patience would encourage the odious
suspicion that he was more deeply sensible of former
injuries than of recent obligations; and if he accepted the
friendship, he must seem to share the guilt, of the
assassin. Even the principles of justice and the interest of
society would receive a fatal blow from the impunity of
Maximus, and the example of successful usurpation would tend
to dissolve the artificial fabric of government, and once
more to replunge the empire in the crimes and calamities of
the preceding age. But, as the sentiments of gratitude and
honour should invariably regulate the conduct of an
individual, they may be overbalanced in the mind of a
sovereign by the sense of superior duties, and the maxims
both of justice and humanity must permit the escape of an
atrocious criminal if an innocent people would be involved
in the consequences of his punishment. The assassin of
Gratian had usurped, but he actually possessed, the most
warlike provinces of the empire; the East was exhausted by
the misfortunes, and even by the success, of the Gothic war;
and it was seriously to be apprehended that, after the vital
strength of the republic had been wasted in a doubtful and
destructive contest, the feeble conqueror would remain an
easy prey to the barbarians of the north. These weighty
considerations engaged Theodosius to dissemble his
resentment and to accept the alliance of the tyrant. But he
stipulated that Maximus should content himself with the
possession of the countries beyond the Alps. The brother of
Gratian was confirmed and secured in the sovereignty of
Italy, Africa, and the Western Illyricum, and some
honourable conditions were inserted in the treaty to protect
the memory and the laws of the deceased emperor. (17)
According to the custom of the age, the images of the three
Imperial colleagues were exhibited to the veneration of the
people; nor should it be lightly supposed that, in the
moment of a solemn reconciliation, Theodosius secretly
cherished the intention of perfidy and revenge.(18)
Baptism and orthodox edicts of Theodosius, A.D. 380, February 28.
The contempt of Gratian for the Roman soldiers had exposed
him to the fatal effects of their resentment. His profound
veneration for the Christian clergy was rewarded by the
applause and gratitude of a powerful order, which has
claimed in every age the privilege of dispensing honours,
both on earth and in heaven. (19) The orthodox bishops
bewailed his death, and their own irreparable loss; but they
were soon comforted by the discovery that Gratian had
committed the sceptre of the East to the hands of a prince
whose humble faith and fervent zeal were supported by the
spirit and abilities of a more vigorous character. Among the
benefactors of the church, the fame of Constantine has been
rivalled by the glory of Theodosius. If Constantine had the
advantage of erecting the standard of the cross, the
emulation of his successor assumed the merit of subduing the
Arian heresy, and of abolishing the worship of idols in the
Roman world. Theodosius was the first of the emperors
baptised in the true faith of the Trinity. Although he was
born of a Christian family, the maxims, or at least the
practice, of the age encouraged him to delay the ceremony of
his initiation till he was admonished of the danger of delay
by the serious illness which threatened his life towards the
end of the first year of his reign. Before he again took the
field against the Goths, he received the sacrament of
baptism (20) from Acholius, the orthodox bishop of
Thessalonica:(21) and as the emperor ascended from the holy
font, still glowing with the warm feelings of regeneration,
he dictated a solemn edict, which proclaimed his own faith,
and prescribed the religion of his subjects.
"It is our pleasure (such is the Imperial style) that all the nations which are governed by our clemency and moderation should steadfastly adhere to the religion which was taught by St. Peter to the Romans, which faithful tradition has preserved, and which is now professed by the pontiff Damasus, and by Peter, bishop of Alexandria, a man of apostolic holiness. According to the discipline of the apostles, and the doctrine of the Gospel, let us believe the sole deity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, under an equal majesty and a pious Trinity. We authorise the followers of this doctrine to assume the title of Catholic Christians; and as we judge that all others are extravagant madmen, we brand them with the infamous name of Heretics, and declare that their conventicles shall no longer usurp the respectable appellation of churches. Besides the condemnation of Divine justice, they must expect to suffer the severe penalties, which our authority, guided by heavenly wisdom, shall think proper to inflict upon them." (22)
The faith of a soldier is commonly the fruit of instruction, rather than of inquiry; but as the emperor always fixed his eyes on the visible landmarks of orthodoxy which he had so prudently constituted, his religious opinions were never affected by the specious texts, the subtle arguments, and the ambiguous creeds of the Arian doctors. Once indeed he expressed a faint inclination to converse with the eloquent and learned Eunomius, who lived in retirement at a small distance from Constantinople. But the dangerous interview was prevented by the prayers of the empress Flacilla, who trembled for the salvation of her husband; and the mind of Theodosius was confirmed by a theological argument adapted to the rudest capacity. He had lately bestowed on his eldest son Arcadius the name and honours of Augustus, and the two princes were seated on a stately throne to receive the homage of their subjects. A bishop, Amphilochius of Iconium, approached the throne, and, after saluting with due reverence the person of his sovereign, he accosted the royal youth with the same familiar tenderness which he might have used towards a plebeian child. Provoked by this insolent behaviour, the monarch gave orders that the rustic priest should be instantly driven from his presence. But while the guards were forcing him to the door, the dexterous polemic had time to execute his design, by exclaiming, with a loud voice,
"Such is the treatment, O emperor ! which the King of heaven has prepared for those impious men who affect to worship the Father, but refuse to acknowledge the equal majesty of his divine Son."
Theodosius immediately embraced the bishop of Iconium, and never forgot the important lesson which he received from this dramatic parable. (23)
Arianism of Constantinople, A.D. 340-380.
Constantinople was the principal seat and fortress of
Arianism; and, in a long interval of forty years,(24) the
faith of the princes and prelates who reigned in the capital
of the East was rejected in the purer schools of Rome and
Alexandria. The archiepiscopal throne of Macedonius, which
had been polluted with so much Christian blood, was
successively filled by Eudoxus and Damophilus. Their diocese
enjoyed a free importation of vice and error from every
province of the empire; the eager pursuit of religious
controversy afforded a new occupation to the busy idleness
of the metropolis: and we may credit the assertion of an
intelligent observer, who describes, with some pleasantry,
the effects of their loquacious zeal.
"This city," says he, "is full of mechanics and slaves, who are all of them profound theologians, and preach in the shops and in the streets. If you desire a man to change a piece of silver, he informs you wherein the Son differs from the Father; if you ask the price of a loaf, you are told, by way of reply, that the Son is inferior to the Father; and if you inquire whether the bath is ready, the answer is, that the Son was made out of nothing." (25)
The heretics, of various denominations, subsisted in peace under the protection of the Arians of Constantinople, who endeavoured to secure the attachment of those obscure sectaries, while they abused, with unrelenting severity, the victory which they had obtained over the followers of the council of Nice. During the partial reigns of Constantius and Valens, the feeble remnant of the Homoousians was deprived of the public and private exercise of their religion; and it has been observed, in pathetic language, that the scattered flock was left without a shepherd to wander on the mountains, or to be devoured by rapacious wolves.(26) But as their zeal, instead of being subdued, derived strength and vigour from oppression, they seized the first moments of imperfect freedom, which they acquired by the death of Valens, to form themselves into a regular congregation, under the conduct of an episcopal pastor. Two natives of Cappadocia, Basil and Gregory Nazianzen.Gregory Nazianzen,(27) were distinguished above all their contemporaries(28) by the rare union of profane eloquence and of orthodox piety. These orators, who might sometimes be compared, by themselves and by the public, to the most celebrated of the ancient Greeks, were united by the ties of the strictest friendship. They had cultivated, with equal ardour, the same liberal studies in the schools of Athens they had retired, with equal devotion, to the same solitude in the deserts of Pontus; and every spark of emulation or envy appeared to be totally extinguished in the holy and ingenuous breasts of Gregory and Basil. But the exaltation of Basil, from a private life to the archiepiscopal throne of Caesarea, discovered to the world, and perhaps to himself, the pride of his character; and the first favour which he condescended to bestow on his friend was received, and perhaps was intended, as a cruel insult.(29) Instead of employing the superior talents of Gregory in some useful and conspicuous station, the haughty prelate selected, among the fifty bishoprics of his extensive province, the wretched village of Sasima, (30) without water, without verdure, without society, situate at the junction of three highways and frequented only by the incessant passage of rude and clamorous waggoners. Gregory submitted with reluctance to this humiliating exile: he was ordained bishop of Sasima; but he solemnly protests that he never consummated his spiritual marriage with this disgusting bride. He afterwards consented to undertake the government of his native church of Nazianzus,(31) of which his father had been bishop above five-and-forty years. accepts the mission of Constantinople, A.D. 378, November. But as he was still conscious that he deserved another audience and another theatre, he accepted, with no unworthy ambition, the honourable invitation which was addressed to him from the orthodox party of Constantinople. On his arrival in the capital, Gregory was entertained in the house of a pious and charitable kinsman; the most spacious room was consecrated to the uses of religious worship; and the name of Anastasia was chosen to express the resurrection of the Nicene faith. This private conventicle was afterwards converted into a magnificent church; and the credulity of the succeeding age was prepared to believe the miracles and visions which attested the presence, or at least the protection, of the Mother of God. (32) The pulpit of the Anastasia was the scene of the labours and triumphs of Gregory Nazianzen; and in the space of two years he experienced all the spiritual adventures which constitute the prosperous or adverse fortunes of a missionary. (33) The Arians, who were provoked by the boldness of his enterprise, represented his doctrine as if he had preached three distinct and equal Deities; and the devout populace was excited to suppress, by violence and tumult, the irregular assemblies of the Athanasian heretics. From the cathedral of St. Sophia there issued a motley crowd
"of common beggars, who had forfeited their claim to pity; of monks, who had the appearance of goats or satyrs; and of women, more terrible than so many Jezebels."
The doors of the Anastasia were broke open; much mischief was perpetrated, or attempted, with sticks, stones, and firebrands; and as a man lost his life in the affray, Gregory, who was summoned the next morning before the magistrate, had the satisfaction of supposing that he publicly confessed the name of Christ. After he was delivered from the fear and danger of a foreign enemy, his infant church was disgraced and distracted by intestine faction. A stranger, who assumed the name of Maximus(34) and the cloak of a Cynic philosopher, insinuated himself into the confidence of Gregory, deceived and abused his favourable opinion, and, forming a secret connection with some bishops of Egypt, attempted, by a clandestine ordination, to supplant his patron in the episcopal seat of Constantinople. These mortifications might sometimes tempt the Cappadocian missionary to regret his obscure solitude. But his fatigues were rewarded by the daily increase of his fame and his congregation; and he enjoyed the pleasure of observing that the greater part of his numerous audience retired from his sermons satisfied with the eloquence of the preacher,(35) or dissatisfied with the manifold imperfections of their faith and practice.(36)
Ruin of Arianism at Constantinople, A.D. 380, November 26.
The catholics of Constantinople were animated with joyful
confidence by the baptism and edict of Theodosius; and they
impatiently waited the effects of his gracious promise.
Their hopes were speedily accomplished; and the emperor, as
soon as he had finished the operations of the campaign, made
his public entry into the capital at the head of a
victorious army. The next day after his arrival he summoned
Damophilus to his presence, and offered that Arian prelate
the hard alternative of subscribing the Nicene creed, or of
instantly resigning, to the orthodox believers, the use and
possession of the episcopal palace, the cathedral of St.
Sophia, and all the churches of Constantinople. The zeal of
Damophilus, which in a catholic saint would have been justly
applauded, embraced, without hesitation, a life of poverty
and exile,(37) and his removal was immediately followed by the purification of the Imperial City. The Arians might complain, with some appearance of justice, that an
inconsiderable congregation of sectaries should usurp the
hundred churches which they were insufficient to fill,
whilst the far greater part of the people was cruelly
excluded from every place of religious worship. Theodosius
was still inexorable; but as the angels who protected the
catholic cause were only visible to the eyes of faith, he
prudently reinforced those heavenly legions with the more
effectual aid of temporal and carnal weapons, and the church
of St. Sophia was occupied by a large body of the Imperial
guards. If the mind of Gregory was susceptible of pride, he
must have felt a very lively satisfaction when the emperor
conducted him through the streets in solemn triumph, and,
with his own hand, respectfully placed him on the
archiepiscopal throne of Constantinople. But the saint (who
had not subdued the imperfections of human virtue) was
deeply affected by the mortifying consideration that his
entrance into the fold was that of a wolf rather than of a
shepherd; that the glittering arms which surrounded his
person were necessary for his safety; and that he alone was
the object of the imprecations of a great party, whom, as
men and citizens, it was impossible for him to despise. He
beheld the innumerable multitude, of either sex, and of
every age, who crowded the streets, the windows, and the
roofs of the houses; he heard the tumultuous voice of rage,
grief, astonishment, and despair; and Gregory fairly
confesses that on the memorable day of his installation the
capital of the East wore the appearance of a city taken by
storm, and in the hands of a barbarian conqueror.(38) In the East, A.D. 381, January 10. About six weeks afterwards, Theodosius declared his resolution of expelling from all the churches of his dominions the bishops
and their clergy who should obstinately refuse to believe, or at least to profess, the doctrine of the council of Nice. His lieutenant Sapor was armed with the ample powers of a general law, a special commission, and a military force;(39) and this ecclesiastical revolution was conducted with so much discretion and vigour, that the religion of the emperor was established, without tumult or bloodshed, in all the provinces of the East. The writings of the Arians, if they had been permitted to exist, (40) would perhaps contain the lamentable story of the persecution which afflicted the
church under the reign of the impious Theodosius; and the sufferings of their holy confessors might claim the pity of the disinterested reader. Yet there is reason to imagine that the violence of zeal and revenge was in some measure eluded by the want of resistance; and that, in their adversity, the Arians displayed much less firmness than had been exerted by the orthodox party under the reigns of Constantius and Valens. The moral character and conduct of the hostile sects appear to have been governed by the same common principles of nature and religion: but a very material circumstance may be discovered, which tended to distinguish the degrees of their theological faith. Both parties in the schools, as well as in the temples, acknowledged and worshipped the divine majesty of Christ; and, as we are always prone to impute our own sentiments and passions to the Deity, it would be deemed more prudent and respectful to exaggerate than to circumscribe the adorable
perfections of the Son of God. The disciple of Athanasius exulted in the proud confidence that he had entitled himself to the divine favour, while the follower of Arius must have been tormented by the secret apprehension that he was guilty perhaps of an unpardonable offence by the scanty praise and parsimonious honours which he bestowed on the Judge of the World. The opinions of Arianism might satisfy a cold and
speculative mind; but the doctrine of the Nicene Creed, most
powerfully recommended by the merits of faith and devotion,
was much better adapted to become popular and successful in
a believing age.
The council of Constantinople, A.D. 381, May.
The hope that truth and wisdom would be found in the
assemblies of the orthodox clergy induced the emperor to
convene, at Constantinople, a synod of one hundred and fifty
bishops, who proceeded, without much difficulty or delay, to
complete the theological system which had been established
in the council of Nice. The vehement disputes of the fourth
century had been chiefly employed on the nature of the Son
of God; and the various opinions which were embraced
concerning the Second, were extended and transferred, by a
natural analogy, to the Third person of the Trinity.(41)
Yet it was found, or it was thought, necessary, by the
victorious adversaries of Arianism, to explain the ambiguous
language of some respectable doctors; to confirm the faith
of the catholics; and to condemn an unpopular and
inconsistent sect of Macedonians, who freely admitted that
the Son was consubstantial to the Father, while they were
fearful of seeming to acknowledge the existence of Three
Gods. A final and unanimous sentence was pronounced to
ratify the equal Deity of the Holy Ghost: the mysterious
doctrine has been received by all the nations, and all the
churches, of the Christian world; and their grateful
reverence has assigned to the bishops of Theodosius the
second rank among the general councils.(42) Their knowledge
of religious truth may have been preserved by tradition, or
it may have been communicated by inspiration; but the sober
evidence of history will not allow much weight to the
personal authority of the Fathers of Constantinople. In an
age when the ecclesiastics had scandalously degenerated from
the model of apostolical purity, the most worthless and
corrupt were always the most eager to frequent and disturb
the episcopal assemblies. The conflict and fermentation of
so many opposite interests and tempers inflamed the passions
of the bishops: and their ruling passions were, the love of
gold and the love of dispute. Many of the same prelates who
now applauded the orthodox piety of Theodosius had
repeatedly changed, with prudent flexibility, their creeds
and opinions; and in the various revolutions of the church
and state, the religion of their sovereign was the rule of
their obsequious faith. When the emperor suspended his
prevailing influence, the turbulent synod was blindly
impelled by the absurd or selfish motives of pride, hatred,
and resentment. The death of Meletius, which happened at the
council of Constantinople, presented the most favourable
opportunity of terminating the schism of Antioch, by
suffering his aged rival, Paulinus, peaceably to end his
days in the episcopal chair. The faith and virtues of
Paulinus were unblemished. But his cause was supported by
the Western churches; and the bishops of the synod resolved
to perpetuate the mischiefs of discord, by the hasty
ordination of a perjured candidate,(43) rather than to betray
the imagined dignity of the East, which had been illustrated
by the birth and death of the Son of God. Such unjust and
disorderly proceedings forced the gravest members of the
assembly to dissent and to secede; and the clamorous
majority, which remained masters of the field of battle,
could be compared only to wasps or magpies, to a flight of
cranes, or to a flock of geese.(44)
Retreat of Gregory Nazianzen, A.D. 381.
A suspicion may possibly arise that so unfavourable a
picture of ecclesiastical synods has been drawn by the
partial hand of some obstinate heretic or some malicious
infidel. But the name of the sincere historian who has
conveyed this instructive lesson to the knowledge of
posterity must silence the impotent murmurs of superstition
and bigotry. He was one of the most pious and eloquent
bishops of the age; a saint, and a doctor of the church; the
scourge of Arianism, and the pillar of the orthodox faith; a
distinguished member of the council of Constantinople, in
which, after the death of Meletius, he exercised the
functions of president: in a word—Gregory Nazianzen
himself. The harsh and ungenerous treatment which he
experienced,(45) instead of derogating from the truth of his
evidence, affords an additional proof of the spirit which
actuated the deliberations of the synod. Their unanimous
suffrage had confirmed the pretensions which the bishop of
Constantinople derived from the choice of the people and the
approbation of the emperor. But Gregory soon became the
victim of malice and envy. The bishops of the East, his strenuous adherents, provoked
by his moderation in the affairs of Antioch, abandoned him,
without support, to the adverse faction of the Egyptians,
who disputed the validity of his election and rigorously
asserted the obsolete canon that prohibited the licentious
practice of episcopal translations. The pride, or the
humility, of Gregory, prompted him to decline a contest
which might have been imputed to ambition and avarice; and
he publicly offered, not without some mixture of
indignation, to renounce the government of a church which
had been restored, and almost created, by his labours. His
resignation was accepted by the synod, and by the emperor,
with more readiness than he seems to have expected. At the
time when he might have hoped to enjoy the fruits of his
victory, his episcopal throne was filled by the senator
Nectarius; and the new archbishop, accidentally recommended
by his easy temper and venerable aspect, was obliged to
delay the ceremony of his consecration till he had
previously despatched the rites of his baptism.(46) After
this remarkable experience of the ingratitude of princes and
prelates, Gregory retired once more to his obscure solitude
of Cappadocia, where he employed the remainder of his life,
about eight years, in the exercises of poetry and devotion.
The title of Saint has been added to his name; but the
tenderness of his heart,(47) and the elegance of his genius,
reflect a more pleasing lustre on the memory of Gregory
Nazianzen.
Edicts of Theodosius against the heretics, A.D. 380-394.
It was not enough that Theodosius had suppressed the
insolent reign of Arianism, or that he had abundantly
revenged the injuries which the catholics sustained from the
zeal of Constantius and Valens. The orthodox emperor
considered every heretic as a rebel against the supreme
powers of heaven and of earth, and each of these powers
might exercise their peculiar jurisdiction over the soul and
body of the guilty. The decrees of the council of
Constantinople had ascertained the true standard of the
faith; and the ecclesiastics who governed the conscience of
Theodosius suggested the most effectual methods of
persecution. In the space of fifteen years he promulgated at
least fifteen severe edicts against the heretics,(48) more
especially against those who rejected the doctrine of the
Trinity; and to deprive them of every hope of escape, he
sternly enacted that, if any laws or rescripts should be
alleged in their favour, the judges should consider them as
the illegal productions either of fraud or forgery. The
penal statutes were directed against the ministers, the
assemblies, and the persons of the heretics; and the
passions of the legislator were expressed in the language of
declamation and invectives I. The heretical teachers, who
usurped the sacred titles of Bishops or Presbyters, were not
only excluded from the privileges and emoluments so
liberally granted to the orthodox clergy, but they were
exposed to the heavy penalties of exile and confiscation, if
they presumed to preach the doctrine, or to practise the
rites, of their accursed sects. A fine of ten pounds of gold
(above four hundred pounds sterling) was imposed on every
person who should dare to confer, or receive, or promote, an
heretical ordination: and it was reasonably expected that,
if the race of pastors could be extinguished, their helpless
flocks would be compelled, by ignorance and hunger, to
return within the pale of the Catholic church. II. The
rigorous prohibition of conventicles was carefully extended
to every possible circumstance in which the heretics could
assemble with the intention of worshipping God and Christ
according to the dictates of their conscience. Their
religious meetings, whether public or secret, by day or by
night, in cities or in the country, were equally proscribed
by the edicts of Theodosius; and the building, or ground,
which had been used for that illegal purpose, was forfeited
to the Imperial domain. III. It was supposed that the error
of the heretics could proceed only from the obstinate temper
of their minds; and that such a temper was a fit object of
censure and punishment. The anathemas of the church were
fortified by a sort of civil excommunication, which
separated them from their fellow-citizens by a peculiar
brand of infamy; and this declaration of the supreme
magistrate tended to justify, or at least to excuse, the
insults of a fanatic populace. The sectaries were gradually
disqualified for the possession of honourable or lucrative
employments; and Theodosius was satisfied with his own
justice, when he decreed that, as the Eunomians
distinguished the nature of the Son from that of the Father,
they should be incapable of making their wills, or of
receiving any advantage from testamentary donations. The
guilt of the Manichaean heresy was esteemed of such
magnitude that it could be expiated only by the death of the
offender; and the same capital punishment was inflicted on
the Audians, or Quartodecimans, (49) who should dare to perpetrate the atrocious crime of celebrating on an improper
day the festival of Easter. Every Roman might exercise the
right of public accusation; but the office of Inquisitors of
the Faith, a name so deservedly abhorred, was first
instituted under the reign of Theodosius. Yet we are assured
that the execution of his penal edicts was seldom enforced;
and that the pious emperor appeared less desirous to punish
than to reclaim or terrify his refractory subjects. (50)
Execution of Priscillian and his associates, A.D. 385.
The theory of persecution was established by Theodosius,
whose justice and piety have been applauded by the saints;
but the practice of it, in the fullest extent, was reserved
for his rival and colleague, Maximus, the first among the
Christian princes who shed the blood of his Christian
subjects on account of their religious opinions. The cause
of the Priscillianists, (51) a recent sect of heretics who
disturbed the provinces of Spain, was transferred, by
appeal, from the synod of Bordeaux to the Imperial
consistory of Treves; and by the sentence of the Praetorian
praefect, seven persons were tortured, condemned, and
executed. The first of these was Priscillians(52) himself,
bishop of Avila, (53) in Spain, who adorned the advantages of birth and fortune by the accomplishments of eloquence and learning. Two presbyters and two deacons accompanied their
beloved master in his death, which they esteemed as a
glorious martyrdom; and the number of religious victims was
completed by the execution of Latronian, a poet, who
rivalled the fame of the ancients; and of Euchrocia, a noble
matron of Bordeaux, the widow of the orator Delphidius.(54) Two bishops, who had embraced the sentiments of Priscillian, were condemned to a distant and dreary exile;(55) and some indulgence was shown to the meaner criminals who assumed the merit of an early repentance. If any credit could be allowed to confessions extorted by fear or pain, and to vague reports, the offspring of malice and credulity, the heresy of the Priscillianists would be found to include the various abominations of magic, of impiety, and of lewdness. (56) Priscillian, who wandered about the world in the company of his spiritual sisters, was accused of praying stark-naked in the midst of the congregation; and it was confidently asserted, that the effects of his criminal intercourse with the daughter of Euchrocia had been suppressed by means still more odious and criminal. But an accurate, or rather a candid inquiry, will discover that, if the Priscillianists violated the laws of nature, it was not by the licentiousness, but by the austerity of their lives. They absolutely condemned the use of the marriage-bed; and the peace of families was often disturbed by indiscreet separations. They enjoined, or recommended, a total abstinence from all animal food; and their continual prayers, fasts, and vigils, inculcated a rule of strict and perfect devotion. The speculative tenets of the sect, concerning the person of Christ and the nature of the human soul, were derived from the Gnostic and Manichaean system; and this vain philosophy, which had been transported from Egypt to Spain, was ill adapted to the grosser spirits of the West. The obscure disciples of Priscillian suffered, languished, and gradually disappeared: his tenets were rejected by the clergy and people, but his death was the subject of a long and vehement controversy; while some arraigned, and others applauded, the justice of his sentence. It is with pleasure that we can observe the humane inconsistency of the most illustrious saints and bishops, Ambrose of Milan (57) and Martin of Tours,(58) who, on this
occasion, asserted the cause of toleration. They pitied the
unhappy men who had been executed at Treves; they refused to
hold communion with their episcopal murderers; and if Martin
deviated from that generous resolution, his motives were
laudable, and his repentance was exemplary. The bishops of
Tours and Milan pronounced, without hesitation, the eternal
damnation of heretics; but they were surprised and shocked
by the bloody image of their temporal death, and the honest
feelings of nature resisted the artificial prejudices of
theology. The humanity of Ambrose and Martin was confirmed
by the scandalous irregularity of the proceedings against
Priscillian and his adherents. The civil and ecclesiastical
ministers had transgressed the limits of their respective
provinces. The secular judge had presumed to receive an
appeal, and to pronounce a definitive sentence, in a matter
of faith and episcopal jurisdiction. The bishops had
disgraced themselves by exercising the functions of accusers
in a criminal prosecution. The cruelty of Ithacius,(59) who
beheld the tortures, and solicited the death of the
heretics, provoked the just indignation of mankind; and the
vices of that profligate bishop were admitted as a proof
that his zeal was instigated by the sordid motives of
interest. Since the death of Priscillian, the rude attempts
of persecution have been refined and methodised in the holy
office, which assigns their distinct parts to the
ecclesiastical and secular powers. The devoted victim is
regularly delivered by the priest to the magistrate, and by
the magistrate to the executioner and the inexorable
sentence of the church, which declares the spiritual guilt
of the offender, is expressed in the mild language of pity
and intercession.
Ambrose archbishop of Milan, A.D. 374-397.
Among the ecclesiastics who illustrated the reign of
Theodosius, Gregory Nazianzen was distinguished by the
talents of an eloquent preacher; the reputation of
miraculous gifts added weight and dignity to the monastic
virtues of Martin of Tours; (60) but the palm of episcopal
vigour and ability was justly claimed by the intrepid
Ambrose.(61) He was descended from a noble family of Romans;
his father had exercised the important office of Praetorian
praefect of Gaul; and the son, after passing through the
studies of a liberal education, attained, in the regular
gradation of civil honours, the station of consular of
Liguria, a province which included the Imperial residence of
Milan. At the age of thirty-four, and before he had received
the sacrament of baptism, Ambrose, to his own surprise and
to that of the world, was suddenly transformed from a
governor to an archbishop. Without the least mixture, as it
is said, of art or intrigue, the whole body of the people
unanimously saluted him with the episcopal title; the
concord and perseverance of their acclamations were ascribed
to a preternatural impulse; and the reluctant magistrate was
compelled to undertake a spiritual office for which he was
not prepared by the habits and occupations of his former
life. But the active force of his genius soon qualified him
to exercise, with zeal and prudence, the duties of his
ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and while he cheerfully
renounced the vain and splendid trappings of temporal
greatness, he condescended, for the good of the church, to
direct the conscience of the emperors, and to control the
administration of the empire. Gratian loved and revered him
as a father; and the elaborate treatise on the faith of the
Trinity was designed for the instruction of the young
prince. After his tragic death, at a time when the empress
Justina trembled for her own safety, and for that of her son
Valentinian, the archbishop of Milan was despatched on two
different embassies to the court of Treves. He exercised,
with equal firmness and dexterity, the powers of his
spiritual and political characters; and perhaps contributed,
by his authority and eloquence, to check the ambition of
Maximus, and to protect the peace of Italy.(62) Ambrose had
devoted his life and his abilities to the service of the
church. Wealth was the object of his contempt; he had
renounced his private patrimony; and he sold, without
hesitation, the consecrated plate for the redemption of
captives. The clergy and people of Milan were attached to
their archbishop, and he deserved the esteem, without
soliciting the favour, or apprehending the displeasure, of
his feeble sovereigns.
His succesful opposition to the empress Justina, A.D. 385, April 3-10.
The government of Italy, and of the young emperor, naturally
devolved to his mother Justina, a woman of beauty and
spirits but who, in the midst of an orthodox people, had the
misfortune of professing the Arian heresy, which she
endeavoured to instil into the mind of her son. Justina was
persuaded that a Roman emperor might claim, in his own
dominions, the public exercise of his religion; and she
proposed to the archbishop, as a moderate and reasonable
concession, that he should resign the use of a single
church, either in the city or suburbs of Milan. But the
conduct of Ambrose was governed by very different
principles.(63) The palaces of the earth might indeed belong
to Caesar, but the churches were houses of God; and, within
the limits of his diocese, he himself, as the lawful
successor of the apostles, was the only minister of God. The
privileges of Christianity, temporal as well as spiritual,
were confined to the true believers; and the mind of Ambrose
was satisfied that his own theological opinions were the
standard of truth and orthodoxy. The archbishop, who refused
to hold any conference or negotiation with the instruments
of Satan, declared, with modest firmness, his resolution to
die a martyr rather than to yield to the impious sacrilege;
and Justina, who resented the refusal as an act of insolence
and rebellion, hastily determined to exert the Imperial
prerogative of her son. As she desired to perform her public
devotions on the approaching festival of Easter, Ambrose was
ordered to appear before the council. He obeyed the summons
with the respect of a faithful subject, but he was followed,
without his consent, by an innumerable people: they pressed,
with impetuous zeal, against the gates of the palace; and
the affrighted ministers of Valentinian, instead of
pronouncing a sentence of exile on the archbishop of Milan,
humbly requested that he would interpose his authority to
protect the person of the emperor, and to restore the
tranquillity of the capital. But the promises which Ambrose
received and communicated were soon violated by a perfidious
court; and, during six of the most solemn days which
Christian piety has set apart for the exercise of religion,
the city was agitated by the irregular convulsions of tumult
and fanaticism. The officers of the household were directed
to prepare, first the Portian, and afterwards the new,
Basilica, for the immediate reception of the emperor and his
mother. The splendid canopy and hangings of the royal seat
were arranged in the customary manner; but it was found
necessary to defend them, by a strong guard, from the
insults of the populace. The Arian ecclesiastics who
ventured to show themselves in the streets were exposed to
the most imminent danger of their lives; and Ambrose enjoyed
the merit and reputation of rescuing his personal enemies
from the hands of the enraged multitude
But while he laboured to restrain the effects of their zeal, the pathetic vehemence of his sermons continually inflamed the angry and seditious temper of the people of Milan. The characters of Eve, of the wife of Job, of Jezebel, of Herodias, were indecently applied to the mother of the emperor; and her desire to obtain a church for the Arians was compared to the most cruel persecutions which Christianity had endured under the reign of Paganism. The measures of the court served only to expose the magnitude of the evil. A fine of two hundred pounds of gold was imposed on the corporate body of merchants and manufacturers: an order was signified, in the name of the emperor, to all the officers and inferior servants of the courts of justice, that, during the continuance of the public disorders, they should strictly confine themselves to their houses: and the ministers of Valentinian imprudently confessed that the most respectable part of the citizens of Milan was attached to the cause of their archbishop. He was again solicited to restore peace to his country, by a timely compliance with the will of his sovereign. The reply of Ambrose was couched in the most humble and respectful terms, which might, however, be interpreted as a serious declaration of civil war.
"His life and fortune were in the hands of the emperor; but he would never betray the church of Christ, or degrade the dignity of the episcopal character. In such a cause he was prepared to suffer whatever the malice of the daeman could inflict; and he only wished to die in the presence of his faithful flock, and at the foot of the altar; 'he' had not contributed to excite, but it was in the power of God alone to appease, the rage of the people: he deprecated the scenes of blood and confusion which were likely to ensue; and it was his fervent prayer that he might not survive to behold the ruin of a flourishing city, and perhaps the desolation of all Italy." (64)
The obstinate bigotry of Justina would have endangered the empire of her son, if, in this contest with the church and people of Milan, she could have depended on the active obedience of the troops of the palace. A large body of Goths had marched to occupy the Basilica, which was the object of the dispute: and it might be expected from the Arian principles and barbarous manners of these foreign mercenaries, that they would not entertain any scruples in the execution of the most sanguinary orders. They were encountered on the sacred threshold by the archbishop, who, thundering against them a sentence of excommunication, asked them, in the tone of a father and a master, whether it was to invade the house of God that they had implored the hospitable protection of the republic? The suspense of the barbarians allowed some hours for a more effectual negotiation; and the empress was persuaded by the advice of her wisest counsellors to leave the Catholics in possession of all the churches of Milan; and to dissemble, till a more convenient season, her intentions of revenge. The mother of Valentinian could never forgive the triumph of Ambrose; and the royal youth uttered a passionate exclamation, that his own servants were ready to betray him into the hands of an insolent priest.
A.D. 386.
The laws of the empire, some of which were inscribed with the name of Valentinian, still condemned the Arian heresy, and seemed to excuse the resistance of the Catholics. By the influence of Justina, an edict of toleration was promulgated in all the provinces which were subject to the court of Milan; the free exercise of their religion was granted to those who professed the faith of Rimini; and the emperor declared that all persons who should infringe this sacred and salutary constitution should be capitally punished, as the enemies of the public peace. (65) The character and language of the archbishop of Milan may justify the suspicion that his conduct soon afforded a reasonable ground, or at least a specious pretence, to the Arian ministers, who watched the opportunity of surprising him in some act of disobedience to a law which he strangely represents as a law of blood and tyranny. A sentence of easy and honourable banishment was pronounced, which enjoined Ambrose to depart from Milan without delay, whilst it permitted him to choose the place of his exile and the number of his companions. But the authority of the saints, who have preached and practised the maxims of passive loyalty, appeared to Ambrose of less moment than the extreme and pressing danger of the church. He boldly refused to obey; and his refusal was supported by the unanimous consent of his faithful people.(66) They guarded by turns the person of their archbishop; the gates of the cathedral and the episcopal palace were strongly secured; and the Imperial troops, who had formed the blockade, were unwilling to risk the attack of that impregnable fortress. The numerous poor, who had been relieved by the liberality of Ambrose, embraced the fair occasion of signalising their zeal and gratitude; and as the patience of the multitude might have been exhausted by the length and uniformity of nocturnal vigils,
he prudently introduced into the church of Milan the useful institution of a loud and regular psalmody. While he maintained this arduous contest, he was instructed, by a dream, to open the earth in a place where the remains of two
martyrs, Gervasius and Protasius, (67) had been deposited above three hundred years. Immediately under the pavement of the church two perfect skeletons were found,(68) with the heads separated from their bodies, and a plentiful effusion of blood. The holy relics were presented, in solemn pomp, to the veneration of the people; and every circumstance of this fortunate discovery was admirably adapted to promote the designs of Ambrose. The bones of the martyrs, their blood, their garments, were supposed to contain a healing power; and the preternatural influence was communicated to the most distant objects, without losing any part of its original virtue. The extraordinary cure of a blind man,(69) and the reluctant confessions of several daemoniacs, appeared to justify the faith and sanctity of Ambrose; and the truth of those miracles is attested by Ambrose himself, by his secretary Paulinus, and by his proselyte, the celebrated Augustin, who, at that time, professed the art of rhetoric in Milan. The reason of the present age may possibly approve the incredulity of Justina and her Arian court, who derided
the theatrical representations which were exhibited by the contrivance, and at the expense, of the archbishop.(70) Their effect, however, on the minds of the people, was rapid and irresistible; and the feeble sovereign of Italy found himself unable to contend with the favourite of Heaven. The powers likewise of the earth interposed in the defence of Ambrose: the disinterested advice of Theodosius was the genuine result of piety and friendship; and the mask of religious zeal concealed the hostile and ambitious designs of the tyrant of Gaul.(71)
Maximus invades Italy, A.D. 387, August.
The reign of Maximus might have ended in peace and
prosperity, could he have contented himself with the
possession of three ample countries, which now constitute
the three most flourishing kingdoms of modern Europe. But
the aspiring usurper, whose sordid ambition was not
dignified by the love of glory and of arms, considered his
actual forces as the instruments only of his future
greatness, and his success was the immediate cause of his
destruction. The wealth which he extorted (72) from the
oppressed provinces of Gaul, Spain, and Britain, was
employed in levying and maintaining a formidable army of
barbarians, collected, for the most part, from the fiercest
nations of Germany. The conquest of Italy was the object of
his hopes and preparations; and he secretly meditated the
ruin of an innocent youth, whose government was abhorred and
despised by his catholic subjects. But as Maximus wished to
occupy, without resistance, the passes of the Alps, he
received, with perfidious smiles, Domninus of Syria, the
ambassador of Valentinian, and pressed him to accept the aid
of a considerable body of troops for the service of a
Pannonian war. The penetration of Ambrose had discovered the
snares of an enemy under the professions of friendship;(73)
but the Syrian Domninus was corrupted or deceived by the
liberal favour of the court of Treves; and the council of
Milan obstinately rejected the suspicion of danger with a
blind confidence, which was the effect not of courage, but
of fear. The march of the auxiliaries was guided by the
ambassador; and they were admitted, without distrust, into
the fortresses of the Alps. But the crafty tyrant followed,
with hasty and silent footsteps, in the rear; and as he
diligently intercepted all intelligence of his motions, the
gleam of armour and the dust excited by the troops of
cavalry first announced the hostile approach of a stranger
to the gates of Milan. In this extremity, Justina and her
son might accuse their own imprudence and the perfidious
arts of Maximus; but they wanted time, and force, and
resolution to stand against the Gauls and Germans, either in
the field or within the walls of a large and disaffected
city. Flight was their only hope; Aquileia their only
refuge: and, as Maximus now displayed his genuine character,
the brother of Gratian might expect the same fate from the
hands of the same assassin. Maximus entered Milan in
triumph; and if the wise archbishop refused a dangerous and
criminal connection with the usurper, he might indirectly
contribute to the success of his arms by inculcating from
the pulpit the duty of resignation rather than that of
resistance.(74) The unfortunate Justina reached Aquileia in
safety; but she distrusted the strength of the
fortifications; she dreaded the event of a siege; and she
resolved to implore the protection of the great Theodosius,
whose power and virtue were celebrated in all the countries of the West. A vessel was secretly provided to transport the Imperial family; they embarked with precipitation in one of the obscure harbours of Venetia, or Istria; traversed the whole extent of the Hadriatic and Ionian seas, turned the
extreme promontory of Peloponnesus; and, after a long but successful navigation, reposed themselves in the port of Thessalonica. Flight of Valentinian. All the subjects of Valentinian deserted the cause of a prince who, by his abdication, had absolved them from the duty of allegiance; and if the little city of Aemona, on the verge of Italy, had not presumed to stop the career of his inglorious victory, Maximus would have obtained without a struggle the sole possession of the Western empire.
Theodosius stakes arms in the cause of Valentinian, A.D. 387.
Instead of inviting his royal guests to the palace of
Constantinople, Theodosius had some unknown reasons to fix
their residence at Thessalonica; but these reasons did not
proceed from contempt or indifference, as he speedily made a
visit to that city, accompanied by the greatest part of his
court and senate. After the first tender expressions of
friendship and sympathy, the pious emperor of the East
gently admonished Justina that the guilt of heresy was
sometimes punished in this world as well as in the next; and
that the public profession of the Nicene faith would be the
most efficacious step to promote the restoration of her son,
by the satisfaction which it must occasion both on earth and
in heaven. The momentous question of peace or war was
referred by Theodosius to the deliberation of his council;
and the arguments which might be alleged on the side of
honour and justice had acquired, since the death of Gratian,
a considerable degree of additional weight. The persecution
of the Imperial family, to which Theodosius himself had been
indebted for his fortune, was now aggravated by recent and
repeated injuries. Neither oaths nor treaties could restrain
the boundless ambition of Maximus; and the delay of vigorous
and decisive measures, instead of prolonging the blessings
of peace, would expose the Eastern empire to the danger of
an hostile invasion. The barbarians who had passed the
Danube had lately assumed the character of soldiers and
subjects, but their native fierceness was yet untamed; and
the operations of a war, which would exercise their valour
and diminish their numbers, might tend to relieve the
provinces from an intolerable oppression. Notwithstanding
these specious and solid reasons, which were approved by a
majority of the council, Theodosius still hesitated whether
he should draw the sword in a contest which could no longer
admit any terms of reconciliation; and his magnanimous
character was not disgraced by the apprehensions which he
felt for the safety of his infant sons, and the welfare of
his exhausted people. In this moment of anxious doubt, while
the fate of the Roman world depended on the resolution of a
single man, the charms of the princess Galla most powerfully
pleaded the cause of her brother Valentinian.(75) The heart
of Theodosius was softened by the tears of beauty; his
affections were insensibly engaged by the graces of youth
and innocence; the art of Justina managed and directed the
impulse of passion; and the celebration of the royal
nuptials was the assurance and signal of the civil war. The
unfeeling critic, who consider every amorous weakness as an
indelible stain on the memory of a great and orthodox
emperor, are inclined on this occasion to dispute the
suspicious evidence of the historian Zosimus. For my own
part, I shall frankly confess that I am willing to find, or
even to seek, in the revolutions of the world some traces of
the mild and tender sentiments of domestic life and amidst
the crowd of fierce and ambitious conquerors, I can
distinguish, with peculiar complacency, a gentle hero who
may be supposed to receive his armour from the hands of
love. The alliance of the Persian king was secured by the
faith of treaties; the martial barbarians were persuaded to
follow the standard or to respect the frontiers of an active
and liberal monarch; and the dominions of Theodosius, from
the Euphrates to the Hadriatic, resounded with the
preparations of war both by land and sea. The skilful
disposition of the forces of the East seemed to multiply
their numbers, and distracted the attention of Maximus. He
had reason to fear that a chosen body of troops, under the
command of the intrepid Arbogastes, would direct their march
along the banks of the Danube, and boldly penetrate through
the Rhaetian provinces into the centre of Gaul. A powerful
fleet was equipped in the harbours of Greece and Epirus,
with an apparent design that, as soon as the passage had
been opened by a naval victory, Valentinian and his mother
should land in Italy, proceed without delay to Rome, and
occupy the majestic seat of religion and empire. In the
meanwhile Theodosius himself advanced, at the head of a
brave and disciplined army, to encounter his unworthy rival,
who, after the siege of Aemona, had fixed his camp in the
neighbourhood of Siscia, a city of Pannonia, strongly
fortified by the broad and rapid stream of the Save.
Defeat and death of Maximus, A.D. 388, June-August.
The veterans, who still remembered the long resistance, and
successive resources, of the tyrant Magnentius, might
prepare themselves for the labours of three bloody
campaigns. But the contest with his successor, who, like
him, had usurped the throne of the West, was easily decided
in the term of two months,(76) and within the space of two
hundred miles. The superior genius of the emperor of the
East might prevail over the feeble Maximus, who in this
important crisis showed himself destitute of military skill
or personal courage; but the abilities of Theodosius were
seconded by the advantage which he possessed of a numerous
and active cavalry. The Huns, the Alani, and, after their
example, the Goths themselves, were formed into squadrons of
archers, who fought on horseback, and confounded the steady
valour of the Gauls and Germans by the rapid motions of a
Tartar war. After the fatigue of a long march in the heat of
summer they spurred their foaming horses into the waters of
the Save, swam the river in the presence of the enemy, and
instantly charged and routed the troops who guarded the high
ground on the opposite side. Marcellinus, the tyrant's
brother, advanced to support them with the select cohorts,
which were considered as the hope and strength of the army.
The action, which had been interrupted by the approach of
night, was renewed in the morning; and, after a sharp
conflict, the surviving remnant of the bravest soldiers of
Maximus threw down their arms at the feet of the conqueror.
Without suspending his march, to receive the loyal
acclamations of the citizens of Aemona, Theodosius pressed
forwards to terminate the war by the death or captivity of
his rival, who fled before him with the diligence of fear.
From the summit of the Julian Alps he descended with such
incredible speed into the plain of Italy that he reached
Aquileia on the evening of the first day; and Maximus, who
found himself encompassed on all sides, had scarcely time to
shut the gates of the city. But the gates could not long
resist the effort of a victorious enemy; and the despair,
the disaffection, the indifference of the soldiers and
people hastened the downfall of the wretched Maximus. He was
dragged from his throne, rudely stripped of the Imperial
ornaments, the robe, the diadem, and the purple slippers;
and conducted, like a malefactor, to the camp and presence
of Theodosius, at a place about three miles from Aquileia.
The behaviour of the emperor was not intended to insult, and
he showed some disposition to pity and forgive the tyrant of
the West, who had never been his personal enemy, and was now
become the object of his contempt. Our sympathy is the most
forcibly excited by the misfortunes to which we are exposed;
and the spectacle of a proud competitor now prostrate at his
feet could not fail of producing very serious and solemn
thoughts in the mind of the victorious emperor. But the
feeble emotion of involuntary pity was checked by his regard
for public justice and the memory of Gratian; and he
abandoned the victim to the pious zeal of the soldiers, who
drew him out of the Imperial presence and instantly
separated his head from his body. The intelligence of his
defeat and death was received with sincere or well
dissembled joy: his son Victor, on whom he had conferred the
title of Augustus, died by the orders perhaps by the hand,
of the bold Arbogastes; and all the military plans of
Theodosius were successfully executed. When he had thus
terminated the civil war, with less difficulty and bloodshed
than he might naturally expect, he employed the winter
months of his residence at Milan to restore the state of the
afflicted provinces; and early in the spring he made, after
the example of Constantine and Constantius, his triumphal
entry into the ancient capital of the Roman empire.(77)
Virtues of Theodosius.
The orator, who may be silent without danger, may praise
without difficulty and without reluctance;(78) and posterity
will confess that the character of Theodosius (79) might
furnish the subject of a sincere and ample panegyric. The
wisdom of his laws and the success of his arms rendered his
administration respectable in the eyes both of his subjects
and of his enemies. He loved and practised the virtues of
domestic life, which seldom hold their residence in the
palaces of kings. Theodosius was chaste and temperate; he
enjoyed, without excess, the sensual and social pleasures of
the table, and the warmth of his amorous passions was never
diverted from their lawful objects. The proud titles of
Imperial greatness were adorned by the tender names of a
faithful husband, an indulgent father; his uncle was raised,
by his affectionate esteem, to the rank of a second parent;
Theodosius embraced, as his own, the children of his brother
and sister, and the expressions of his regard were extended
to the most distant and obscure branches of his numerous
kindred. His familiar friends were judiciously selected from
among those persons who, in the equal intercourse of private
life, had appeared before his eyes without a mask; the
consciousness of personal and superior merit enabled him to
despise the accidental distinction of the purple, and he
proved by his conduct that he had forgotten all the
injuries, while he most gratefully remembered all the
favours and services which he had received before he
ascended the throne of the Roman empire. The serious or
lively tone of his conversation was adapted to the age, the
rank, or the character of his subjects whom he admitted into
his society; and the affability of his manners displayed the
image of his mind. Theodosius respected the simplicity of
the good and virtuous: every art, every talent, of an useful
or even of an innocent nature, was rewarded by his judicious
liberality; and, except the heretics, whom he persecuted
with implacable hatred, the diffusive circle of his
benevolence was circumscribed only by the limits of the
human race. The government of a mighty empire may assuredly
suffice to occupy the time and the abilities of a mortal;
yet the diligent prince, without aspiring to the unsuitable
reputation of profound learning, always reserved some
moments of his leisure for the instructive amusement of
reading. History, which enlarged his experience, was his
favourite study. The annals of Rome, in the long period of
eleven hundred years, presented him with a various and
splendid picture of human life; and it has been particularly
observed that, whenever he perused the cruel acts of Cinna,
of Marius, or of Sylla, he warmly expressed his generous
detestation of those enemies of humanity and freedom. His
disinterested opinion of past events was usefully applied as
the rule of his own actions, and Theodosius has deserved the
singular commendation that his virtues always seemed to
expand with his fortune; the season of his prosperity was
that of his moderation, and his clemency appeared the most
conspicuous after the danger and success of the civil war.
The Moorish guards of the tyrant had been massacred in the
first heat of the victory, and a small number of the most
obnoxious criminals suffered the punishment of the law. But
the emperor showed himself much more attentive to relieve
the innocent than to chastise the guilty. The oppressed
subjects of the West, who would have deemed themselves happy
in the restoration of their lands, were astonished to
receive a sum of money equivalent to their losses; and the
liberality of the conqueror supported the aged mother and
educated the orphan daughters of Maximus. (80) A character
thus accomplished might almost excuse the extravagant
supposition of the orator Pacatus that, if the elder Brutus
could be permitted to revisit the earth, the stern
republican would abjure, at the feet of Theodosius, his
hatred of kings; and ingenuously confess that such a monarch
was the most faithful guardian of the happiness and dignity
of the Roman people.(81)
Faults of Theodosius.
Yet the piercing eye of the founder of the republic must
have discerned two essential imperfections, which might,
perhaps, have abated his recent love of despotism. The
virtuous mind of Theodosius was often relaxed by indolence,
(82) and it was sometimes inflamed by passion. (83) In the
pursuit of an important object his active courage was
capable of the most vigorous exertions; but as soon as the
design was accomplished, or the danger was surmounted, the
hero sunk into inglorious repose, and, forgetful that the
time of a prince is the property of his people, resigned
himself to the enjoyment of the innocent but trifling
pleasures of a luxurious court. The natural disposition of
Theodosius was hasty and choleric; and, in a station where
none could resist and few would dissuade the fatal
consequence of his resentment, the humane monarch was justly
alarmed by the consciousness of his infirmity and of his
power. It was the constant study of his life to suppress or
regulate the intemperate sallies of passion; and the success
of his efforts enhanced the merit of his clemency. But the
painful virtue which claims the merit of victory is exposed
to the danger of defeat; and the reign of a wise and
merciful prince was polluted by an act of cruelty which
would stain the annals of Nero or Domitian. Within the space
of three years the inconsistent historian of Theodosius must
relate the generous pardon of the citizens of Antioch, and
the inhuman massacre of the people of Thessalonica.
The sedition of Antioch, A.D. 387.
The lively impatience of the inhabitants of Antioch was
never satisfied with their own situation, or with the
character and conduct of their successive sovereigns. The
Arian subjects of Theodosius deplored the loss of their
churches; and, as three rival bishops disputed the throne of
Antioch, the sentence which decided their pretensions
excited the murmurs of the two unsuccessful congregations.
The exigencies of the Gothic war, and the inevitable expense
that accompanied the conclusion of the peace, had
constrained the emperor to aggravate the weight of the
public impositions; and the provinces of Asia, as they had
not been involved in the distress, were the less inclined to
contribute to the relief of Europe. The auspicious period
now approached of the tenth year of his reign; a festival
more grateful to the soldiers, who received a liberal
donative, than to the subjects, whose voluntary offerings
had been long since converted into an extraordinary and
oppressive burden. The edicts of taxation interrupted the
repose and pleasures of Antioch; and the tribunal of the
magistrate was besieged by a suppliant crowd, who, in
pathetic, but at first in respectful language, solicited the
redress of their grievances. They were gradually incensed by
the pride of their haughty rulers, who treated their
complaints as a criminal resistance; their satirical wit
degenerated into sharp and angry invectives; and, from the
subordinate powers of government, the invectives of the
people insensibly rose to attack the sacred character of the
emperor himself. February 26.Their fury, provoked by a feeble
opposition, discharged itself on the images of the Imperial
family which were erected, as objects of public veneration,
in the most conspicuous places of the city. The statues of
Theodosius, of his father, of his wife Flaccilla, of his two
sons Arcadius and Honorius, were insolently thrown down from
their pedestals, broken in pieces, or dragged with contempt
through the streets; and the indignities which were offered
to the representations of Imperial majesty sufficiently
declared the impious and treasonable wishes of the populace.
The tumult was almost immediately suppressed by the arrival
of a body of archers; and Antioch had leisure to reflect on
the nature and consequences of her crime.(84) According to
the duty of his office, the governor of the province
despatched a faithful narrative of the whole transaction,
while the trembling citizens intrusted the confession of
their crime and the assurances of their repentance to the
zeal of Flavian their bishop, and to the eloquence of the
senator Hilarius, the friend, and most probably the
disciple, of Libanius, (85) whose genius on this melancholy
occasion was not useless to his country. But the two
capitals, Antioch and Constantinople, were separated by the
distance of eight hundred miles; and, notwithstanding the
diligence of the Imperial posts, the guilty city was
severely punished by a long and dreadful interval of
suspense. Every rumour agitated the hopes and fears of the
Antiochians, and they heard with terror that their
sovereign, exasperated by the insult which had been offered
to his own statues, and more especially to those of his
beloved wife, had resolved to level with the ground the
offending city, and to massacre, without distinction of age
or sex, the criminal inhabitants, (86) many of whom were
actually driven, by their apprehensions, to seek a refuge in
March 22.the mountains of Syria and the adjacent desert. At length,
twenty-four days after the sedition, the general Hellebicus,
and Caesarius, master of the offices, declared the will of
the emperor and the sentence of Antioch. That proud capital
was degraded from the rank of a city; and the metropolis of
the East, stripped of its lands, its privileges, and its
revenues, was subjected, under the humiliating denomination
of a village, to the jurisdiction of Laodicea.(87) The baths,
the circus, and the theatres were shut and, that every
source of plenty and pleasure might at the same time be
intercepted, the distribution of corn was abolished by the
severe instructions of Theodosius. His commissioners then
proceeded to inquire into the guilt of individuals—of
those who had perpetrated, and of those who had not
prevented, the destruction of the sacred statues. The
tribunal of Hellebicus and Caesarius, encompassed with armed
soldiers, was erected in the midst of the Forum. The noblest
and most wealthy of the citizens of Antioch appeared before
them in chains; the examination was assisted by the use of
torture, and their sentence was pronounced or suspended,
according to the judgment of these extraordinary
magistrates. The houses of the criminals were exposed to
sale, their wives and children were suddenly reduced from
affluence and luxury to the most abject distress, and a
bloody execution was expected to conclude the horrors of a
day (88) which the preacher of Antioch, the eloquent
Chrysostom, has represented as a lively image of the last
and universal judgment of the world. But the ministers of
Theodosius performed with reluctance the cruel task which
had been assigned them; they dropped a gentle tear over the
calamities of the people, and they listened with reverence
to the pressing solicitations of the monks and hermits, who
descended in swarms from the mountains.(89) Hellebicus and
Caesarius were persuaded to suspend the execution of their
sentence; and it was agreed that the former should remain at
Antioch, while the latter returned, with all possible speed,
to Constantinople, and presumed once more to consult the
will of his sovereign.Clemency of Theodosius. The resentment of Theodosius had already subsided; the deputies of the people, both the bishop and the orator, had obtained a favourable audience;
and the reproaches of the emperor were the complaints of injured friendship rather than the stern menaces of pride and power. A free and general pardon was granted to the city and citizens of Antioch; the prison-doors were thrown open; the senators, who despaired of their lives, recovered the possession of their houses and estates; and the capital of the East was restored to the enjoyment of her ancient dignity and splendour. Theodosius condescended to praise the senate of Constantinople, who had generously interceded for their distressed brethren; he rewarded the eloquence of Hilarius with the government of Palestine, and dismissed the bishop of Antioch with the warmest expressions of respect and gratitude. April 25.A thousand new statues arose to the clemency of Theodosius; the applause of his subjects was ratified by the approbation of his own heart; and the emperor confessed
that, if the exercise of justice is the most important duty, the indulgence of mercy is the most exquisite pleasure of a sovereign.(90)
Sedition and massacre of Thessalonica, A.D. 390.
The sedition of Thessalonica is ascribed to a more shameful
cause, and was productive of much more dreadful
consequences. That great city, the metropolis of all the
Illyrian provinces, had been protected from the dangers of
the Gothic war by strong fortifications and a numerous
garrison. Botheric, the general of those troops, and, as it
should seem from his name, a barbarian, had among his slaves
a beautiful boy, who excited the impure desires of one of
the charioteers of the circus. The insolent and brutal lover
was thrown into prison by the order of Botheric; and he
sternly rejected the importunate clamours of the multitude,
who, on the day of the public games, lamented the absence of
their favourite, and considered the skill of a charioteer as
an object of more importance than his virtue. The resentment
of the people was embittered by some previous disputes; and,
as the strength of the garrison had been drawn away for the
service of the Italian war, the feeble remnant, whose
numbers were reduced by desertion, could not save the
unhappy general from their licentious fury. Botheric and
several of his principal officers were inhumanly murdered;
their mangled bodies were dragged about the streets; and the
emperor, who then resided at Milan, was surprised by the
intelligence of the audacious and wanton cruelty of the
people of Thessalonica. The sentence of a dispassionate
judge would have inflicted a severe punishment on the
authors of the crime; and the merit of Botheric might
contribute to exasperate the grief and indignation of his
master. The fiery and choleric temper of Theodosius was
impatient of the dilatory forms of a judicial inquiry; and
he hastily resolved that the blood of his lieutenant should
be expiated by the blood of the guilty people. Yet his mind
still fluctuated between the counsels of clemency and of
revenge; the zeal of the bishops had almost extorted from
the reluctant emperor the promise of a general pardon; his
passion was again inflamed by the flattering suggestions of
his minister Rufinus; and, after Theodosius had despatched
the messengers of death, he attempted, when it was too late,
to prevent the execution of his orders. The punishment of a
Roman city was blindly committed to the undistinguishing
sword of the barbarians; and the hostile preparations were
concerted with the dark and perfidious artifice of an
illegal conspiracy. The people of Thessalonica were
treacherously invited, in the name of their sovereign, to
the games of the circus; and such was their insatiate
avidity for those amusements that every consideration of
fear or suspicion was disregarded by the numerous
spectators. As soon as the assembly was complete, the
soldiers, who had secretly been posted round the circus,
received the signal, not of the races, but of a general
massacre. The promiscuous carnage continued three hours,
without discrimination of strangers or natives, of age or
sex, of innocence or guilt; the most moderate accounts state
the number of the slain at seven thousand; and it is
affirmed by some writers that more than fifteen thousand
victims were sacrificed to the manes of Botheric. A foreign
merchant, who had probably no concern in his murder, offered
his own life and all his wealth to supply the place of one
of his two sons; but while the father hesitated with equal
tenderness, while he was doubtful to choose, and unwilling
to condemn, the soldiers determined his suspense by plunging
their daggers at the same moment into the breasts of the
defenceless youths. The apology of the assassins, that they
were obliged to produce the prescribed number of heads,
serves only to increase, by an appearance of order and
design, the horrors of the massacre, which was executed by
the commands of Theodosius. The guilt of the emperor is
aggravated by his long and frequent residence at
Thessalonica. The situation of the unfortunate city, the
aspect of the streets and buildings, the dress and faces of
the inhabitants, were familiar, and even present, to his
imagination; and Theodosius possessed a quick and lively
sense of the existence of the people whom he destroyed.(91)
Influence and conduct of Ambrose, A.D. 388.
The respectful attachment of the emperor for the orthodox
clergy had disposed him to love and admire the character of
Ambrose, who united all the episcopal virtues in the most
eminent degree. The friends and ministers of Theodosius
imitated the example of their sovereign; and he observed,
with more surprise than displeasure, that all his secret
counsels were immediately communicated to the archbishop,
who acted from the laudable persuasion that every measure of
civil government may have some connection with the glory of
God and the interest of the true religion. The monks and
populace of Callinicum, an obscure town on the frontier of
Persia, excited by their own fanaticism, and by that of
their bishop, had tumultuously burnt a conventicle of the
Valentinians and a synagogue of the Jews. The seditious
prelate was condemned by the magistrate of the provinces
either to rebuild the synagogue or to repay the damage; and
this moderate sentence was confirmed by the emperor. But it
was not confirmed by the archbishop of Milan.(92) He dictated
an epistle of censure and reproach, more suitable perhaps if
the emperor had received the mark of circumcision and
renounced the faith of his baptism. Ambrose considers the
toleration of the Jewish as the persecution of the Christian
religion; boldly declares that he himself and every true
believer would eagerly dispute with the bishop of Callinicum
the merit of the deed and the crown of martyrdom; and
laments, in the most pathetic terms, that the execution of
the sentence would be fatal to the fame and salvation of
Theodosius. As this private admonition did not produce an
immediate effect, the archbishop from his pulpit(93) publicly
addressed the emperor on his throne;(94) nor would he consent
to offer the oblation of the altar till he had obtained from
Theodosius a solemn and positive declaration which secured
the impunity of the bishop and monks of Callinicum. The
recantation of Theodosius was sincere; (95) and, during the
term of his residence at Milan, his affection for Ambrose
was continually increased by the habits of pious and
familiar conversation.
Pennance of Theodosius, A.D. 390.
When Ambrose was informed of the massacre of Thessalonica,
his mind was filled with horror and anguish. He retired into
the country to indulge his grief and to avoid the presence
of Theodosius. But as the archbishop was satisfied that a
timid silence would render him the accomplice of his guilt,
he represented in a private letter the enormity of the
crime, which could only be effaced by the tears of
penitence. The episcopal vigour of Ambrose was tempered by
prudence; and he contented himself with signifying(96) an
indirect sort of excommunication, by the assurance that he
had been warned in a vision not to offer the oblation in the
name or in the presence of Theodosius, and by the advice
that he would confine himself to the use of prayer, without
presuming to approach the altar of Christ, or to receive the
holy eucharist with those hands that were still polluted
with the blood of an innocent people. The emperor was deeply
affected by his own reproaches and by those of his spiritual
father; and after he had bewailed the mischievous and
irreparable consequences of his rash fury, he proceeded in
the accustomed manner to perform his devotions in the great
church of Milan. He was stopped in the porch by the
archbishop, who, in the tone and language of an ambassador
of Heaven, declared to his sovereign that private contrition
was not sufficient to atone for a public fault or to appease
the justice of the offended Deity. Theodosius humbly
represented that, if he had contracted the guilt of
homicide, David, the, man after God's own heart, had been
guilty not only of murder but of adultery. "You have
imitated David in his crime, imitate then his repentance,"
was the reply of the undaunted Ambrose. The rigorous conditions of peace and pardon were accepted, and the public penance of the emperor Theodosius has been recorded as one of the most honourable events in the annals of the church. According to the mildest rules of ecclesiastical discipline which were established in the fourth century, the crime of homicide was expiated by the penitence of twenty years:(97) and as it was impossible in the period of human life to purge the accumulated guilt of the massacre of Thessalonica, the murderer should have been excluded from the holy communion till the hour of his death. But the archbishop, consulting the maxims of religious policy, granted some indulgence to the rank of his illustrious penitent, who humbled in the dust the pride of the diadem; and the public edification might be admitted as a weighty reason to abridge the duration of his punishment. It was sufficient that the emperor of the Romans, stripped of the ensigns of royalty, should appear in a mournful and suppliant posture; and that, in the midst of the church of Milan, he should humbly solicit, with sighs and tears, the pardon of his sins.(98) In this spiritual cure Ambrose employed the various methods of mildness and severity. After a delay of about eight months Theodosius was restored to the communion of the faithful;
and the edict, which interposes a salutary interval of thirty days between the sentence and the execution, may be accepted as the worthy fruits of his repentance. (99) Posterity has applauded the virtuous firmness of the archbishop: and the example of Theodosius may prove the beneficial influence of those principles which could force a monarch, exalted above the apprehension of human punishment, to respect the laws and ministers of an invisible Judge.
"The prince," says Montesquieu, "who is actuated by the hopes and fears of religion, may be compared to a lion, docile only to the voice, and tractable to the hand, of his keeper." (100)
The motions of the royal animal will therefore depend on the inclination and interest of the man who has acquired such dangerous authority over him; and the priest who holds in his hand the conscience of a king may inflame or moderate his sanguinary passions. The cause of humanity and that of persecution have been asserted by the same Ambrose with equal energy and with equal success.
Generosity of Theodosius, A.D. 388-391.
After the defeat and death of the tyrant of Gaul, the Roman
world was in the possession of Theodosius. He derived from
the choice of Gratian his honourable title to the provinces
of the East; he had acquired the West by the right of
conquest; and the three years which he spent in Italy were
usefully employed to restore the authority of the laws and
to correct the abuses which had prevailed with impunity
under the usurpation of Maximus and the minority of
Valentinian. The name of Valentinian was regularly inserted
in the public acts, but the tender age and doubtful faith of
the son of Justina appeared to require the prudent care of
an orthodox guardian, and his specious ambition might have
excluded the unfortunate youth, without a struggle and
almost without a murmur, from the administration and even
from the inheritance of the empire. If Theodosius had
consulted the rigid maxims of interest and policy, his
conduct would have been justified by his friends, but the
generosity of his behaviour on this memorable occasion has
extorted the applause of his most inveterate enemies. He
seated Valentinian on the throne of Milan. and, without
stipulating any present or future advantages, restored him
to the absolute dominion of all the provinces from which he
had been driven by the arms of Maximus. To the restitution
of his ample patrimony Theodosius added the free and
generous gift of the countries beyond the Alps which his
successful valour had recovered from he assassin of Gratian.
(101) Satisfied with the glory which he had acquired by
revenging the death of his benefactor and delivering the
West from the yoke of tyranny, the emperor returned from
Milan to Constantinople, and, in the peaceful possession of
the East, insensibly relapsed into his former habits of
luxury and indolence. Theodosius discharged his obligation
to the brother, he indulged his conjugal tenderness to the
sister, of Valentinian; and posterity, which admires the
pure and singular glory of is elevation, must applaud his
unrivalled generosity in the use of victory.
Character of Valentinian, A.D. 391.
The empress Justina did not long survive her return to Italy
and, though she beheld the triumph of Theodosius, she was
not allowed to influence the government of her son.(102) The
pernicious attachment to the Arian sect which Valentinian
had imbibed from her example and instructions was soon
erased by the lessons of a more orthodox education. His
growing zeal for the faith of Nice, and his filial reverence
for the character and authority of Ambrose, disposed the
catholics to entertain the most favourable opinion of the
virtues of the young emperor of the West.(103) They applauded
his chastity and temperance, his contempt of pleasure, his
application to business, and his tender affection for his
two sisters, which would not, however, seduce his impartial
equity to pronounce an unjust sentence against the meanest
of his subjects. But this amiable youth, before he had
accomplished the twentieth year of his age, was oppressed by
domestic treason, and the empire was again involved in the
horrors of a civil war. Arbogastes,(104) a gallant soldier of
the nation of the Franks, held the second rank in the
service of Gratian. On the death of his master he joined the
standard of Theodosius, contributed, by his valour and
military conduct, to the destruction of the tyrant, and was
appointed, after the victory, master-general of the armies
of Gaul. His real merit and apparent fidelity had gained the
confidence both of the prince and people; his boundless
liberality corrupted the allegiance of the troops; and,
whilst he was universally esteemed as the pillar of the
state, the bold and crafty barbarian was secretly determined
either to rule or to ruin the empire of the West. The
important commands of the army were distributed among the
Franks; the creatures of Arbogastes were promoted to all the
honours and offices of the civil government; the progress of
the conspiracy removed every faithful servant from the
presence of Valentinian; and the emperor, without power and
without intelligence, insensibly sunk into the precarious
and dependent condition of a captive.(105) The indignation
which he expressed, though it might arise only from the rash
and impatient temper of youth, may be candidly ascribed to
the generous spirit of a prince who felt that he was not
unworthy to reign. He secretly invited the archbishop of
Milan to undertake the office of a mediator, as the pledge
of his sincerity and the guardian of his safety. He
contrived to apprise the emperor of the East of his helpless
situation, and he declared that, unless Theodosius could
speedily march to his assistance, he must attempt to escape
from the palace, or rather prison, of Vienne, in Gaul, where
he had imprudently fixed his residence in the midst of the
hostile faction. But the hopes of relief were distant and
doubtful; and, as every day furnished some new provocation,
the emperor, without strength or counsel, too hastily
resolved to risk an immediate contest with his powerful
general. He received Arbogastes on the throne, and, as the
count approached with some appearance of respect, delivered
to him a paper which dismissed him from all his employments.
"My authority," replied Arbogastes, with insulting coolness, "does not depend on the smile or the frown of a monarch;"
and he contemptuously threw the paper on the ground. The indignant monarch snatched at the sword of one of the guards, which he struggled to draw from its scabbard, and it was not without some degree of violence that he was prevented from using the deadly weapon against his enemy or against himself. His death, A.D. 392, May 15. A few days after this extraordinary quarrel, in which he had exposed his resentment and his weakness, the unfortunate Valentinian was found strangled in his apartment, and some pains were employed to disguise the manifest guilt of Arbogastes, and to persuade the world that the death of the young emperor had been the voluntary effect of his own despair. (106) His body was conducted with decent pomp to the sepulchre of Milan, and the archbishop pronounced a funeral oration to commemorate his virtue and his misfortunes.(107) On this occasion the humanity of Ambrose tempted him to make a singular breach in his theological system, and to comfort the weeping sisters of Valentinian by the firm assurance that their pious brother, though he had not received the sacrament of baptism, was introduced, without difficulty, into the mansions of eternal bliss.(108)
Usurpation of Eugenius, A.D. 392-394.
The prudence of Arbogastes had prepared the success of his
ambitious designs, and the provincials, in whose breasts
every sentiment of patriotism or loyalty was extinguished,
expected, with tame resignation, the unknown master whom the
choice of a Frank might place on the Imperial throne. But
some remains of pride and prejudice still opposed the
elevation of Arbogastes himself, and the judicious
barbarians thought it more advisable to reign under the name
of some dependent Roman. He bestowed the purple on the
rhetorician Eugenius,(109) whom he had already raised from
the place of his domestic secretary to the rank of master of
the offices. In the course both of his private and public
service the count had always approved the attachment and
abilities of Eugenius, his learning and eloquence, supported
by the gravity of his manners, recommended him to the esteem
of the people, and the reluctance with which he seemed to
ascend the throne may inspire a favourable prejudice of his
virtue and moderation. The ambassadors of the new emperor
were immediately despatched to the court of Theodosius, to
communicate, with affected grief, the unfortunate accident
of the death of Valentinian, and, without mentioning the
name of Arbogastes, to request that the monarch of the East
would embrace as his lawful colleague the respectable
citizen who had obtained the unanimous suffrage of the
armies and provinces of the West.(110) Theodosius was justly
provoked that the perfidy of a barbarian should have
destroyed in a moment the labours and the fruit of his
former victory; and he was excited by the tears of his
beloved wife(111) to revenge the fate of her unhappy brother, and once more to assert by arms the violated majesty of the throne. But as the second conquest of the West was a task of
difficulty and danger, he dismissed, with splendid presents and an ambiguous answer, the ambassadors of Eugenius, and almost two years were consumed in the preparations of the civil war.Theodosius prepares for war. Before he formed any decisive resolution the pious emperor was anxious to discover the will of Heaven; and as the progress of Christian Laity had silenced the oracles of Delphi and Dodona, he consulted an Egyptian monk, who possessed, in the opinion of the age, the gift of miracles and the knowledge of futurity. Eutropius, one of the favourite eunuchs of the palace of Constantinople, embarked for Alexandria, from whence he sailed up the Nile
as far as the city of Lycopolis, or of Wolves, in the remote province of Thebais. (112) In the neighbourhood of that city, and on the summit of a lofty mountain, the holy John(113) had constructed with his own hands an humble cell, in which he had dwelt above fifty years, without opening his door, without seeing the face of a woman, and without tasting any food that had been prepared by fire or any human art. Five days of the week he spent in prayer and meditation, but on Saturdays and Sundays he regularly opened a small window, and gave audience to the crowd of suppliants who successively flowed from every part of the Christian world. The eunuch of Theodosius approached the window with respectful steps, proposed his questions concerning the event of the civil war, and soon returned with a favourable
oracle, which animated the courage of the emperor by the assurance of a bloody but infallible victory. (114) The accomplishment of the prediction was forwarded by all the means that human prudence could supply. The industry of the two master-generals, Stilicho and Timasius, was directed to recruit the numbers and to revive the discipline of the Roman legions. The formidable troops of barbarians marched under the ensigns of their national chieftains. The Iberian,
the Arab, and the Goth, who gazed on each other with mutual
astonishment, were enlisted in the service of the same
prince; and the renowned Alaric acquired, in the school of
Theodosius, the knowledge of the art of war which he
afterwards so fatally exerted for the destruction of Rome.
(115)
His victory over Eugenius, A.D. 394, September 6.
The emperor of the West, or, to speak more properly, his
general Arbogastes, was instructed by the misconduct and
misfortune of Maximus how dangerous it might prove to extend
the line of defence against a skilful antagonist, who was
free to press or to suspend, to contract or to multiply, his
various methods of attack.(116) Arbogastes fixed his station
on the confines of Italy; the troops of Theodosius were
permitted to occupy, without resistance, the provinces of
Pannonia, as far as the foot of the Julian Alps; and even
the passes of the mountains were negligently, or perhaps
artfully, abandoned to the bold invader. He descended from
the hills, and beheld, with some astonishment, the
formidable camp of the Gauls and Germans that covered with
arms and tents the open country which extends to the walls
of Aquileia and the banks of the Frigidus, (117) or Cold
River.(118) This narrow theatre of the war circumscribed by
the Alps and the Hadriatic, did not allow much room for the
operations of military skill; the spirit of Arbogastes would
have disdained a pardon; his guilt extinguished the hope of
a negotiation; and Theodosius was impatient to satisfy his
glory and revenge by the chastisement of the assassins of
Valentinian. Without weighing the natural and artificial
obstacles that opposed his efforts, the emperor of the East
immediately attacked the fortifications of his rivals,
assigned the post of honourable danger to the Goths, and
cherished a secret wish that the bloody conflict might
diminish the pride and numbers of the conquerors. Ten
thousand of those auxiliaries, and Bacurius, general of the
Iberians, died bravely on the field of battle. But the
victory was not purchased by their blood; the Gauls
maintained their advantage, and the approach of night
protected the disorderly flight, or retreat, of the troops
of Theodosius. The emperor retired to the adjacent hills,
where he passed a disconsolate night, without sleep, without
provisions, and without hopes, (119) except that strong
assurance which, under the most desperate circumstances, the
independent mind may derive from the contempt of fortune and
of life. The triumph of Eugenius was celebrated by the
insolent and dissolute joy of his camp, whilst the active
and vigilant Arbogastes secretly detached a considerable
body of troops to occupy the passes of the mountains and to
encompass the rear of the Eastern army. The dawn of day
discovered to the eyes of Theodosius the extent and the
extremity of his danger, but his apprehensions were soon
dispelled by a friendly message from the leaders of those
troops, who expressed their inclination to desert the
standard of the tyrant. The honourable and lucrative rewards
which they stipulated as the price of their perfidy were
granted without hesitation, and, as ink and paper could not
easily be procured, the emperor subscribed on his own
tablets the ratification of the treaty. The spirit of his
soldiers was revived by this seasonable reinforcement, and
they again marched with confidence to surprise the camp of a
tyrant whose principal officers appeared to distrust either
the justice or the success of his arms. In the heat of the
battle a violent tempest, (120) such as is often felt among
the Alps, suddenly arose from the East. The army of
Theodosius was sheltered by their position from the
impetuosity of the wind, which blew a cloud of dust in the
faces of the enemy, disordered their ranks, wrested their
weapons from their hands, and diverted or repelled their
ineffectual javelins. This accidental advantage was
skilfully improved: the violence of the storm was magnified
by the superstitious terrors of the Gauls, and they yielded
without shame to the invisible powers of heaven, who seemed
to militate on the side of the pious emperor. His victory
was decisive, and the deaths of his two rivals were
distinguished only by the difference of their characters.
The rhetorician Eugenius, who had almost acquired the
dominion of the world, was reduced to implore the mercy of
the conqueror, and the unrelenting soldiers separated his
head from his body as he lay prostrate at the feet of
Theodosius. Arbogastes, after the loss of a battle in which
he had discharged the duties of a soldier and a general,
wandered several days among the mountains. But when he was
convinced that his cause was desperate, and his escape
impracticable, the intrepid barbarian imitated the example
of the ancient Romans, and turned his sword against his own
breast. The fate of the empire was determined in a narrow
corner of Italy; and the legitimate successor of the house
of Valentinian embraced the archbishop of Milan, and
graciously received the submission of the provinces of the
West. Those provinces were involved in the guilt of
rebellion; while the inflexible courage of Ambrose alone had
resisted the claims of successful usurpation. With a manly
freedom, which might have been fatal to any other subject,
the archbishop rejected the gifts of Eugenius, declined his
correspondence, and withdrew himself from Milan to avoid the
odious presence of a tyrant whose downfall he predicted in
discreet and ambiguous language. The merit of Ambrose was
applauded by the conqueror, who secured the attachment of
the people by his alliance with the church: and the clemency
of Theodosius is ascribed to the humane intercession of the
archbishop of Milan.(121)
Death of Theodosius, A.D. 395, January 17.
After the defeat of Eugenius, the merit, as well as the
authority, of Theodosius was cheerfully acknowledged by all
the inhabitants of the Roman world. The experience of his
past conduct encouraged the most pleasing expectations of
his future reign; and the age of the emperor, which did not
exceed fifty years, seemed to extend the prospect of the
public felicity. His death, only four months after his
victory, was considered by the people as an unforeseen and
fatal event, which destroyed in a moment the hopes of the
rising generation. But the indulgence of ease and luxury had
secretly nourished the principles of disease. (122) The
strength of Theodosius was unable to support the sudden and
violent transition from the palace to the camp; and the
increasing symptoms of a dropsy announced the speedy
dissolution of the emperor. The opinion, and perhaps the
interest, of the public had confirmed the division of the
Eastern and Western empires; and the two royal youths,
Arcadius and Honorius, who had already obtained, from the
tenderness of their father, the title of Augustus, were
destined to fill the thrones of Constantinople and of Rome.
Those princes were not permitted to share the danger and
glory of the civil war; (123) but as soon as Theodosius had
triumphed over his unworthy rivals, he called his younger
son, Honorius, to enjoy the fruits of the victory, and to
receive the sceptre of the West from the hands of his dying
father. The arrival of Honorius at Milan was welcomed by a
splendid exhibition of the games of the circus; and the
emperor, though he was oppressed by the weight of his
disorder, contributed by his presence to the public joy. But
the remains of his strength were exhausted by the painful
effort which he made to assist at the spectacles of the
morning. Honorius supplied, during the rest of the day, the
place of his father; and the great Theodosius expired in the
ensuing night. Notwithstanding the recent animosities of a
civil war, his death was universally lamented. The
barbarians, whom he had vanquished, and the churchmen, by
whom he had been subdued, celebrated with loud and sincere
applause the qualities of the deceased emperor which
appeared the most valuable in their eyes. The Romans were
terrified by the impending dangers of a feeble and divided
administration; and every disgraceful moment of the
unfortunate reigns of Arcadius and Honorius revived the
memory of their irreparable loss.
Corruptions of the times.
In the faithful picture of the virtues of Theodosius, his
imperfections have not been dissembled; the act of cruelty,
and the habits of indolence, which tarnished the glory of
one of the greatest of the Roman princes. An historian
perpetually adverse to the fame of Theodosius has
exaggerated his vices and their pernicious effects, he
boldly asserts that every rank of subjects imitated the
effeminate manners of their sovereign; that every species of
corruption polluted the course of public and private life;
and that the feeble restraints of order and decency were
insufficient to resist the progress of that degenerate
spirit which sacrifices, without a blush, the consideration
of duty and interest to the base indulgence of sloth and
appetite.(124) The complaints of contemporary writers, who
deplore the increase of luxury and depravation of manners,
are commonly expressive of their peculiar temper and
situation. There are few observers who possess a clear and
comprehensive view of the revolutions of society, and who
are capable of discovering the nice and secret springs of
action which impel, in the same uniform direction, the blind
and capricious passions of a multitude of individuals. If it
can be affirmed, with any degree of truth, that the luxury
of the Romans was more shameless and dissolute in the reign
of Theodosius than in the age of Constantine, perhaps, or of
Augustus, the alteration cannot be ascribed to any
beneficial improvements which had gradually increased the
stock of national riches. A long period of calamity or decay
must have checked the industry and diminished the wealth of
the people; and their profuse luxury must have been the
result of that indolent despair which enjoys the present
hour and declines the thoughts of futurity. The uncertain
condition of their property discouraged the subjects of
Theodosius from engaging in those useful and laborious
undertakings which require an immediate expense, and promise
a slow and distant advantage. The frequent examples of ruin
and desolation tempted them not to spare the remains of a
patrimony which might, every hour, become the prey of the
rapacious Goth. And the mad prodigality which prevails in
the confusion of a shipwreck or a siege may serve to explain
the progress of luxury amidst the misfortunes and terrors of
a sinking nation.
The Infantry lay aside their armour.
The effeminate luxury, which infected the manners of courts
and cities, had instilled a secret and destructive poison
into the camps of the legions; and their degeneracy has been
marked by the pen of a military writer, who had accurately
studied the genuine and ancient principles of Roman
discipline. It is the just and important observation of
Vegetius, that the infantry was invariably covered with
defensive armour from the foundation of the city to the
reign of the emperor Gratian. The relaxation of discipline
and the disuse of exercise rendered the soldiers less able
and less willing to support the fatigues of the service;
they complained of the weight of the armour, which they
seldom wore; and they successively obtained the permission
of laying aside both their cuirasses and their helmets. The
heavy weapons of their ancestors, the short sword and the
formidable pilum, which had subdued the world, insensibly
dropped from their feeble hands. As the use of the shield is
incompatible with that of the bow, they reluctantly marched
into the field, condemned to suffer either the pain of
wounds or the ignominy of flight, and always disposed to
prefer the more shameful alternative. The cavalry of the
Goths, the Huns, and the Alani, had felt the benefits and
adopted the use of defensive armour; and, as they excelled
in the management of missile weapons, they easily
overwhelmed the naked and trembling legions, whose heads and
breasts were exposed, without defence, to the arrows of the
barbarians. The loss of armies, the destruction of cities,
and the dishonour of the Roman name, ineffectually solicited
the successors of Gratian to restore the helmets and
cuirasses of the infantry. The enervated soldiers abandoned
their own and the public defence; and their pusillanimous
indolence may be considered as the immediate cause of the
downfall of the empire.(125)
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