Chapter XXVII: Civil Wars, Reign Of
Theodosius.—Part I.
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.
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 valor 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.
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 passions which the 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 labored to form the mind and body of the
young prince. 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: 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 favor 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. The conscience of
the credulous prince was directed by saints and bishops; who
procured an Imperial edict to punish, as a capital offence, the
violation, the neglect, or even the ignorance, of the divine law.
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. The behavior 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 honors, of his faithful
troops, appeared to be the objects 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 favorite 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 favorite 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. 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 cause 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; the legions of
that sequestered island had been long famous for a spirit of
presumption and arrogance; 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 this 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. 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. 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 favor 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.
But there was danger likewise in refusing the
empire; and from the moment that Maximus 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. 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 honorably 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
neighborhood 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 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 intention of the usurper. 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. 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. 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.
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 honor 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 honor 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
honorable conditions were inserted in the treaty, to protect the
memory, and the laws, of the deceased emperor. 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.
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 honors, both on earth and in heaven.
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 baptized 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 from Acholius, the
orthodox bishop of Thessalonica: 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 authorize 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. ” 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 Flaccilla, 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 honors 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 behavior,
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
had received from this dramatic parable.
Chapter XXVII: Civil Wars, Reign Of Theodosius.—Part II.
Constantinople was the principal seat and fortress of Arianism; and, in a long interval of forty years, 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. ” The heretics, of various denominations, subsisted in peace under the protection of the Arians of Constantinople; who endeavored 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. But, as their zeal, instead of being subdued, derived strength and vigor from oppression, they seized the first moments of imperfect freedom, which they had 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, were distinguished above all their contemporaries, 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 ardor, 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 Cæsarea, discovered to the world, and perhaps to himself, the pride of his character; and the first favor which he condescended to bestow on his friend, was received, and perhaps was intended, as a cruel insult. 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, without water, without verdure, without society, situate at the junction of three highways, and frequented only by the incessant passage of rude and clamorous wagoners. 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, of which his father had been bishop above five-and-forty years. But as he was still conscious that he deserved another audience, and another theatre, he accepted, with no unworthy ambition, the honorable 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. The pulpit of the Anastasia was the scene of the labors 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. 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, and the cloak of a Cynic philosopher, insinuated himself into the confidence of Gregory; deceived and abused his favorable opinion; and forming a secret connection with some bishops of Egypt, attem...