1. Introductory: Church and State
We have seen how large the emperors loomed in the ideas and education of the fourth century, and what some of the evil effects of this were. As we pass into the fifth century we find a growing reaction. The balance is shifted, and the Church begins to receive from the emperors an authority which had previously been confined to the secular State.
At first the Church had been independent, unnoticed by the State; then, after the persecutions of the early Empire, it found imperial recognition with the accession of Constantine. But there was still a measure of independence of the State: the emperors did not interfere with Church dogma, and the bishops took no part in politics. They were, as yet, very humble and submissive, for they felt the need of imperial protection, having no sufficient organization of their own and no effective ecclesiastical government; though a considerable machinery had been created by the councils which had been meeting since the third century.
A third stage is reached when the bishops become haughty and imperious and begin to meddle with politics. The clergy have strengthened themselves by organization and training. The latent antagonism between Church and State becomes prominent, and the State sometimes comes off worse. And when the political framework goes under, the power of the Church grows and prospers.[878]
Now it is this growth of Church influence in the fifth century and its effect upon ideas and ideals that is important for our purpose. On the material side this growth is indicated by an increase of civil power. The Edict of Milan restored the confiscated buildings of the churches, and Constantine in 321[879] allowed the clergy to receive bequests. A vast amount of property was bequeathed to the Church in the fifth century, the administration of which was settled by the canons of the various synods. These canons gave rise to an ecclesiastical law which was later augmented by the decisions of the Popes, and played a great part in the Middle Ages. Civil jurisdiction largely passed into the hands of the bishops, and against their sentence, which was carried out by the civil authorities, there was no appeal. The entire administration of the widespread Church property and affairs was in the hands of the bishop. The State reserved criminal law for itself. Like the pagan ‘flamen’, the bishop sat on the ‘Curia’ of his city, where he exercised great authority.
More and more the State came to recognize the ecclesiastical society as a separate polity. Manumissions within the Church were sanctioned by the emperors.[880] The clergy are repeatedly excused from all public burdens whatsoever.[881] This cleavage between Church and State, which had been momentarily accentuated by Julian’s law of 362 forbidding Christians to teach, is further emphasized by the establishment of separate courts for ecclesiastical offenders. ‘The clergy’ (so ran the law of Honorius and Theodosius in 412) ‘may be tried only before an episcopal court.’[882]
More and more, therefore, the bishop came to be appealed to as a civil power,[883] and when the crisis came bishops like Sidonius defended the towns against the invaders.[884] A sense of the failing Empire made men turn to the Church for help against the oppression of imperial officials, and the ruin of invading barbarians.[885] Above all they turned to her for education.
For this position the Church had strengthened herself by increased organization during the fourth and fifth centuries. She assimilated the principles of imperial government and law, applied them in creating her bishoprics, and modelled on them her methods of administration. Thus law, the great contribution of the Roman Empire, passed into the Church, and so down the ages.
On the spiritual side this development of Christianity is marked by a greater kindliness (due also to the teaching of the pagan philosophers[886]) in the hard Roman world. Hints of a new attitude to slaves are to be found in the Theodosian Code. There are lengthy laws providing protection from enslavement—‘non erit impunita labefactatio atque oppugnatio libertatis’[887]—and steps are taken to enable people to rise out of slavery by placing legal means within their reach and making the assertion of liberty easier.[888] Moreover, the breaking up of slave families is forbidden, and the objection is stated from the moral point of view. ‘Quis enim ferat liberos a parentibus, a fratribus sorores ... segregari? Igitur qui dissociata in ius diversum mancipia traxerunt, in unum redigere eadem cogantur: ac si cui propter redintegrationem necessitudinum servi cesserint, vicaria per eum qui eosdem susceperit mancipia reddantur.’[889] But while we must grant to the philosophers and to Christianity an important share in the gradual disappearance of slavery, it must be remembered that the process was largely due to economic causes. It was found that it paid better to give a man some measure of personal freedom, and the economists tell us that the colonate which appeared at the beginning of the third century was a natural economic development of slavery. The absence of wars of conquest also contributed to this result.[890]
Moreover, liberation of body and spirit was aimed at by the attitude of the Church to the stage and the arena. Attendance was forbidden to Christians, and actors were not allowed to be baptized. The discredit thus cast upon these professions was emphasized by the emperors. A great many restrictions were introduced,[891] and games were forbidden on certain Christian feast-days.[892] It was enacted that actresses who had become Christians—‘quas melior vivendi usus vinculo naturalis condicionis evolvit’—should not be forced back into the profession.[893] Similarly, actors and actresses who had received the sacrament when thought to be dying must not be allowed to act again.[894]
Against the arena, too, a blow was struck. Constantine enacted in 325 that all those criminals who had previously been condemned to the arena should now be assigned to the mines. This did not mean the total abolition of gladiatorial contests, but it certainly meant a decrease in the victims of the ‘ludi gladiatorii’, and the moral lead it gave was valuable. ‘Cruenta spectacula’, he said, ‘in otio civili et domestica quiete non placent.’[895]
Later, he forbade soldiers to become gladiators,[896] and Valentinian exempted Christians from the punishment of the arena.[897] Gibbon gives the story of St. Telemachus to mark the final abolition of these contests by Honorius[898] in 404, though Bury points out that there is evidence of such shows some years later. As late as the fourth century we still find a man like Symmachus spending £80,000 on games for his son’s praetorship,[899] but, on the whole, the influence of the Christian ideal made for greater frugality and gentleness.
This influence was also seen in the increase of charities. The bishops, for example, often distributed corn among the people when times were bad.[900] That misuse was made of this spirit is seen from the strict law of Valentinian against mendicancy;[901] but the misuse is not so serious as the previous lack of charitable spirit.
The feeling of the Christians against slavery and the manual labour of the monks tended to destroy the aristocratic prejudice against practical work, and made for a simpler and more natural life. The artificial position in which the pagan world had placed women was to some extent remedied along the same line of the brotherhood of man. Jerome’s correspondence with Paula and Eustochium is an indication of this new attitude.[902] Naturalness also resulted from a reaction against the exaggerated centralization of the Empire, and was manifested in a development of individuality. The Western Church occasionally showed that it could stand up to the emperor.[903] When Constantius commanded that all the bishops assembled at the synod of Ariminum should be given their food (annonae et cellaria) the bishops of Gaul and Britain refused the gift, fearing the diplomacy of Constantius because ‘it did not seem fitting. They refused the imperial support and preferred to live at their own expense.’[904]
There was, therefore, a considerable and increasing independence on the part of the Church. Yet Church and State co-operated in many things. One of these points of co-operation, which was most important for education, was the holding of councils. First the Council of Arles (314), representing the Western Church, and then the Council of Nicea (325), representing the whole Church, was summoned by Constantine. And the influence of these councils in clearing away provincial prejudices and producing breadth of vision must have reacted very favourably on education, though the bishops of Gaul, owing to the larger extent of their bishoprics, did not have that close relation of teacher and pupil with their congregations which was the case in the East.
With all this in her favour the Church drew into her service men of the best blood and intellect. The nobility became the holders of the bishoprics, and the Christians consented. Indeed, they did more than consent. They sometimes demanded it, as in the case of Ambrose, feeling, no doubt, the value of having a man of high social rank to protect them in the political world. Men like Sidonius who had been living quite a ‘worldly’ life became bishops, moved, one is inclined to suspect, rather by the sense of power than the spirit of devotion. Thus aristocratic ideas were introduced into the Church and the bishop’s office was sometimes made hereditary, as in the case of Eucherius and his sons Salonius and Veranius. These aristocrats were at the same time the intellectuals of their time, and men like Lupus, Bishop of Troyes, who was consulted by all the writers of the South,[905] Arbogast of Trèves, afterwards Bishop of Chartres,[906] of whose learning, as of that of Auspicius, Sidonius thought much,[907] Patiens of Lyons,[908] Faustus of Riez,[909] Mamertus of Vienne,[910] Graecus of Marseilles,[911] Perpetuus of Tours,[912] and many others, all friends of Sidonius and therefore of culture, shifted the balance of intellect from the pagan to the Christian side of society.
And yet, in spite of these hopeful signs, this growth in the power of ideals, we feel that the Church in Gaul did not transform the Roman Empire. Power the Church obtained, but found it a perilous possession. For with power came the whole host of political corruptions which had found a home in the imperial system, and entered, unsuspected, along the paths which custom had made. In becoming, to some extent, the successor of the Empire, the Church exposed herself to imperial dangers. Politics tended to overshadow principles. At least one of the two invasions of which Montalembert speaks[913] was needed in order that the Church should save Society—that of the monks from the South.