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THEODORE OF STUDIUM
CHAPTER I.-
CHAPTER II.-
CHAPTER III.-
CHAPTER IV.-
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI.-
CHAPTER VII.-
CHAPTER VIII.-
CHAPTER IX.-
CHAPTER X.-
CHAPTER XI
THE LAST FOUR YEARS
THE disappointments which
proverbially lie in wait for restored exiles soon arrived to curb the jubilant
delight of the monks at the supposed end of their sufferings and the
restoration of the good cause. Michael, like most usurpers, would have
preferred to reverse to some extent the policy of his predecessor without
taking such decisive measures as to threaten a vigorous opposition and the
downfall of his unsteady throne. He was no fanatic and not incapable of
toleration. He seems to have been a fairly able general, and if it is true that
he rejected the proffered aid of the Bulgarians against his Christian subjects
he must have had some sense of the dignity of his position. He also, in his
dealings with the great Western Power, appears somewhat of a diplomatist. But
he does not show any greatness of character nor yet the statesmanlike ability
needed to cope with the unusual difficulties which beset his reign : economic
distress; political disaffection; formidable and hostile neighbors; and a
bitterly distracted church.
One of his first acts—that
which called forth the prematurely triumphant utterances of Theodore already
referred to—was to issue an edict for the liberation of the persecuted monks
and their friends. But it need hardly be said that to Theodore no liberation
was to be accounted as such that did not carry with it full power to labour for the reassertion of the cause at stake. He
welcomed the new Emperor not merely as a personal benefactor, but as a possible
Josiah, to whom the task had been entrusted of restoring pure religion. This
restoration would, to his mind, imply the return of the monks to their old
possessions and their former ways of life; the dethronement of the schismatic
Patriarch with the recall of Nicephorus; the replacing of the sacred icons
where they had formerly received reverence; and the complete reconciliation of
the Byzantine see with that of Rome.
The activity of Theodore was thus directed to his one object by various
channels. He must write to his “spiritual children” everywhere, congratulating
them on their improved position, but urging them to remit no efforts towards
the achievement of their hopes. The Patriarch Nicephorus must be kept firm by
definite though very respectful exhortations to do his duty. The arguments in favor
of icon-worship must be repeated even ad nauseam to ecclesiastics, to
statesmen, to the Emperor himself. And in all communications with the imperial
power the principle must be kept in the forefront that no arrangement can
possibly be satisfactory that does not acknowledge the Roman primacy, and the
complete independence, in matters concerning religious doctrine and discipline,
of the ecclesiastical authority, which can never be lawfully subordinated to
that of the State.
Theodore could rely on the
support of some powerful persons about Court, notably the Logothetes John, Pantoleon, and Demochares,
and the Magister Stephen. In his letters to these persons, Theodore expresses
some disappointment with the slow pace at which things are progressing: “Tell
me, most worthy friend, how is it that now the winter is over, we have not a
perfect spring, but only a spell of moderate weather, with a suggestion of
seasonable times? The fire has been quenched. Why has the smoke been left
behind?”. The disappointment may have been due to the answer sent by Michael to
the representations of Nicephorus, who was probably acting under Theodore’s
direction in writing from his retirement to demand a reversal of policy and the
restoration of the images. To this request the Emperor returned the somewhat
curt answer, that he did not intend to make any changes. If the ex-Patriarch
wished for restoration to his office, he must comply with the Emperors policy.
Nicephorus held Arm, strengthened by personal intercourse with Theodore, who
visited him as soon as possible, and kept up frequent communications with him
when they were both in the suburbs of Constantinople.
Theodore had also written very decidedly to the Emperor. At first,
apparently, he entertained, or at least manifested, no doubt as to the
intentions of Michael. He congratulates him on the good work begun, and adjures
him to complete it, by restoring the cult of the icons and the unity of the
Church : “To believe in Christ is nothing else than to believe that the Son of
God the Father, having become a complete man, was formed after our own image
and likeness so as to be nought other than what we
are while He remained himself uncircumscribed with
the Father and the Spirit in so far as He is very God”. He goes on with the old
comparison between the Emperor's head stamped on a coin and the picture of
Christ. Recognition or denial of the copy implies recognition or denial of the
original. Finally : “Our Church has of late torn herself away from the four
Patriarchs, in vain lawlessness, but ‘now is the accepted time’, 0 most
Christian Governor, ‘now is the day of salvation’, to reconcile us to Christ,
by the mediation and with the approval of your pacific Empire;—to unite us with
the head of the Churches of God, namely Rome, and through Rome with the three
Patriarchs, that being like-minded we may with one mouth glorify God”.
While the Emperor was considering the role suggested to him, the
factions trying to assert their rival causes and interests, and the exiles flocking
back to their homes, Theodore himself was travelling from Smyrna to
Constantinople. He seems to have met with an enthusiastic welcome from the
inhabitants of the religious houses at which he stayed on the way. He lingered
for a time near Lake Metata and then at a place
called Pteleae. On the way two men of influence
visited him or were visited by him, Leo the Consular, and Theoctistus who had
been Magister and was now a monk. At Pteleae he enjoyed a visit from his brother Joseph. He travelled on to Chalcedon, where
he saw the ex-Patriarch Nicephorus, and then seems to have settled for a time
at the monastery of Crescentius, close to Nicomedia. Here strange to say, we
are in the dark as to the point on which we should naturally expect to have
definite information: whether or no Theodore actually returned to Studium and
resumed at once his authority and his functions there. His modern biographers
seem, perhaps too hastily, to have assumed that he did so. But neither the
Lives nor the Letters are quite explicit on this subject. We are told that he
returned to his beloved province, but this word may stand for those parts of
Bithynia with which he had for many years been familiar, where his kinsfolk
held property, and where there were many religious houses devoted to his cause.
No doubt Theodore hoped to be reinstated before long at the head of his
monastery, but such reinstatement was hardly implied in the bare remission of
his exile, and it is almost impossible that he would have consented to return
without a clear understanding that the old ritual was to be restored. Such an
understanding, we can easily imagine, might have been taken by him for granted
without formal leave, but in such case, we should probably have heard of some
such occurrence as that of the Palm Sunday before his exile. From the data that
remain to us we can only feel sure that the first weeks—perhaps months—were
spent in strengthening his partisans, both lay and monastic, for the coming
struggle. The space which would naturally be devoted to this important part of
the narrative in the Lives is a lacuna, stuffed for padding with a very insipid
and irrelevant series of miracles, including the drying up of a Rood, the
frightening away of a tiger, and the castigation, during sleep, of a Sardinian
monk who had made light of Theodore’s hymns. More pleasing, as certainly more
probable, is the story of how he was consulted by an ascetic suffering under
calumnious accusations, whom he advised to wear shoes in winter, and in his
food and clothing to live a little more after the ways of ordinary people.
Michael seems, like many
well-meaning autocrats deficient in sympathetic imagination, to have thought
that the whole iconoclastic controversy could be settled by a conference in
which the leaders on both sides might be persuaded to accept a policy of
compromise, with local toleration. We have among the Letters one from an
assembly of bishops and abbots, drawn up by Theodore in the name of the rest,
in which they state that they are assembled by order of the Emperor, and
request him to give them a personal hearing. The letter is very much to the
same purport as the private one already quoted, but it insists yet more
strongly on the supremacy of Rome, quoting the text, “Thou art Peter, and on
this rock I will build my Church”, [and it rejects indignantly the
proposal—probably made to the orthodox bishops and abbots in their assembly,
that they should hold a conference with those of the opposite persuasion.
Michael seems to have gone further in his proposed concessions than Leo had
gone, in that he would have put the ultimate decision into the hands of persons
acceptable to Theodore and his party d But to Theodore, anything short of an ecumenical
council seemed insufficient to determine the questions at issue. If the local
conference were to have been merely preliminary, it seems not improbable that
he would have agreed to it, but he doubtless saw that the Emperor would make it
final, and would endeavor to settle fundamental points of doctrine by means of
an irresponsible and manipulated debating society.
In the two Lives of
Theodore there is a curious little divergence, since one expressly mentions the
Patriarch Nicephorus as taking part in the doings of the assembly demanded by
the monks, and the other as definitely excludes him. This must have been a
crucial time for Nicephorus, since the iconoclastic Patriarch, Theodotus, died
in this same year, and there can be little doubt that the Emperor would have
been glad to help towards the extinction of the schism by reappointing
Nicephorus, under conditions which might be agreed upon. It was in all
probability Theodore who prevented any such conditions from being made. This
supposition would account for the close union between the two leaders, and
their mutual deference, which seemed to the biographers to afford a most
edifying spectacle. Michael appointed to the vacant Patriarchate a leader of
the opposite party whom we have already mentioned, Antonius of Syllaeum.
Meantime, the desired
audience was granted. The bishops and abbots were introduced into the imperial
presence by one of their friends at Court—probably one of Theodore’s
correspondents. They discoursed in defence of the icons, apparently without
much lucidity, as the Emperor after a time turned from them to Theodore and
asked him to state the case. Theodore repeated the arguments of the others,
probably with greater clearness, and thus obtained a definite, if hardly
satisfactory answer: “What you say is all very well, excellent in fact, but I
have up till this time never worshipped an image, and I mean to leave the
Church as I found it. I command that you have full licence to follow the teaching of what you call the orthodox faith. Outside the city,
you may each of you do as he likes, without fearing or expecting that any
interference will come to you from my government”. So saying he dismissed the
assembly.
The words “outside the city”
were decisive. Local toleration with local persecution is seldom a satisfactory
expedient, and in a state in which the capital is of such paramount importance
as Constantinople was to the Empire, the concession seemed nugatory. To
Theodore it meant that he must henceforth keep at a distance from Studium, and
that the great monastery which owned his headship could not again become the headquarters
of his party. He withdrew to Crescentius, near Nicomedia. Great as his
disappointment must have been, matters were not quite hopeless. The persecution
was stayed, and his influence was allowed free course both among his spiritual
children and in the higher circles of the court and state.
It was probably in the
religious houses of the coast and islands in the near neighbourhood of Constantinople
that the influences were growing and spreading which led, though not in Theodores lifetime, to the ultimate triumph of the icons.
Among Theodore's correspondents were some women of high rank, including two
ex-empresses, who were strong adherents of his cause. One of these was the
Empress Maria, widow of Constantine VI, who had, with her daughter Euphrosyne, adopted the monastic life. Whether or no Euphrosyne had taken all the vows required for a religious
profession may be doubted. In any case, she ranked as a nun, and was secluded
in the Princes’ Island. Michael was now a widower, and in spite of his attachment
to his deceased wife, he listened to the suggestions of his courtiers and their
wives that he should marry again. It is another sign of the popularity, among a
considerable section of the people, of the great Isaurian dynasty, that Michael
decided to brave the censures of the Church in order to unite to himself a lady
of that house. The marriage of Michael and Euphrosyne was odious to the monastic party on three grounds. They objected to second
marriages in general; Euphrosyne was a nun; and any connection
with the sacrilegious Isaurian family seemed unholy. Theodore denounced the marriage
in a catechetical oration. He also wrote to the Empress Maria of whose cause he
had in former days been the champion, and who had lately sent him some token of
friendship or regard. Her imperial son-in-law seems to have invited her to
Court, and the world expected her to accept the invitation. But Theodore
maintained that a higher authority than that of the world ordered her to remain
where she was, and against the promptings of natural affection he quoted the
bitter texts: “Who is my mother and who are my brethren?”, and “He that hateth not his . . . daughter for my sake is not worthy of
me”. It is not clear whether Theodore meant that Maria’s monastic vows compelled
her to remain in her place of seclusion, or whether he simply intended to warn
her against incurring the temptations of a misbelieving Court. Apparently Maria
did not go, as another letter seems to congratulate her on having resisted the
temptation, But Euphrosyne, if we judge from
subsequent events, was more inclined to the belief of her mother than to that
of her father’s family. At least the monastic houses with which she was
associated seem to have been orthodox. We have a letter written by Theodore to
the canonesses of Princes’ Island in which he congratulates them on their
purity of life and faith, though he warns against temptations. And the
monastery of Gastriae, said to be that of (or founded
by) Euphrosyne herself, and to which she retired in later
life, was situated close to Studium itself. It was also very near the abode of
a lady who worked a good deal in the cause of the images, Theoctista,
mother-in-law of the Emperor Theophilus. Her name, being also that of Theodore’s
mother, might suggest kinship, and this suggestion is made more probable by the
statement of a chronicler that the place for the monastery had been bought from
the patrician Nicetas, who is addressed as a kinsman
in one of Theodore’s letters. Furthermore, we have another imperial lady
closely connected with Princes’ Island and with the island of Prota, also a stronghold of the orthodox, who was a
correspondent of Theodore. The wife of the Emperor Leo, Theodosia, is said by
the chroniclers to have urged on her husband the postponement of Michael’s
execution till after Christmas Day, an act which indirectly led to Leo’s
murder. There is, of course, no reason to suppose from this fact that she was
in any way cognizant of the conspiracy, and the contrary would seem to be
proved by her enforced retirement afterwards, when she was sent to Princeps,
her sons to Prota. According to a story current among
the orthodox, one of these sons, named Constantine, but now renamed Basil,
became afflicted with dumbness in consequence of the cruel mutilation
perpetrated, in Byzantine fashion, on all the sons of Leo. Basil, however,
thought of calling in the aid of Gregory Nazianzen (the reason why this father was selected is not told), and immediately
recovered his speech, and became a devout venerator of the icons. The story
would not be worth relating if it were not that we have a letter written by
Theodore to the Empress Theodosia and her son Basil. The first part of it
consists of congratulations on their having come over to the side of the truth.
The second is a little ambiguous. The Emperor had assigned to them the Island
of Chalcita, whence the monks and brethren were to be
ejected. Theodore had felt distressed at the tidings, but had lately been
partially reassured, on hearing that whatever was being done, was entirely by
order of the Emperor. He requests the ex-Empress, however, and her son, to
lessen as much as possible the sufferings of the exiles.
From these various facts we
learn that Theodore had many adherents, both men and women, in the regions
adjacent to the city. Before long, however, circumstances led to an unexpected
recall into the city itself, and probably, for a time at least, to a temporary
reestablishment of Theodore in his authority at Studium.
These circumstances were
the disturbances connected with a serious revolt, which soon grew to alarming
dimensions, and spread distress and insecurity throughout the Eastern
provinces. The leader, Thomas, is an ambiguous figure. By some he was
identified—and this is the view commonly accepted—with the general of the same
name who shared in the revolt of Bardanes and was
afterwards promoted by Leo the Armenian. According to others, he was a Slav of
obscure birth who had for a time served under the Saracens. He succeeded in
gaining a party among the desperate and discontented, and is said to have
actually posed as the unhappy Emperor Constantine VI, asserted to have survived
his misfortunes. This pretension is inconsistent with the identity of Thomas
the rebel and Thomas the general of Leo. One would have thought that such a
claim could have been shattered at one blow by a refusal on the part of Euphrosyne (whether or not she were as yet Empress) to
acknowledge him as her father. Yet there have been no less strange and—one
might suppose—easily refuted claims made by other historical pretenders. Thomas
secured the cooperation of a certain Gregory Pterotes,
brother-in-law and friend of Leo V. By an arrangement with the Saracens, he was
enabled to travel to Antioch and go through the rite of coronation at the hands
of the Patriarch Jacob or Job. He gathered a large fleet which assembled at
Lesbos, overran great part of Asia Minor, and proceeded to lay siege to
Constantinople.
Michael now showed a
considerable amount of energy. He collected ships and munitions of war, put the
city into a state of adequate defence, and with his son Theophilus, whom
probably at this time he associated with himself as co-Emperor, maintained a
vigorous and ultimately successful resistance to the besiegers.
The rebel army suffered from an inroad of the Bulgarians—though the
Emperor had declined their help. The rebel fleet was scattered, and two
attempts to storm the city alike failed. Thomas raised the siege, and was in
turn besieged by the imperial forces. He was shortly after betrayed to the
Emperor and was, along with his son, put to death with disgrace and torture.
It was during or just
before the siege of Constantinople that Theodore and his monks were summoned
into the city. The measure was one of caution on the part of the Emperor, who
feared lest they might favor the insurgents. Thomas seems to have been trying
to win over some of the party by professed devotion to the icons, but it does
not seem probable that either he or the monks looked to each other for assistance.
The orthodox chroniclers write of Thomas with detestation. It is certainly
unlikely that any pretender who meant to oppose iconoclasm would try either to
perpetuate the traditions of the Isaurian dynasty or to attach to himself the
friends of the murdered Leo. The only trace of action on their part, during
this crisis, seems to have been the successful negotiations, carried on by a
Studite monk, for separating Gregory Pterotes from
the cause which he had adopted. Our want of information as to how Theodore
passed the months of the siege, and as to the local warfare before and after,
is probably not to be supplied. It would seem most probable that he was again
in residence at Studium, delivering his fiery catechetical orations to his “fathers
and brethren”, and maintaining the strictness of their rule, with the
observance of iconodulic ritual.
It was probably at the end of the revolt that the Emperor made another
effort towards a peaceful argumentative conference. A letter has already been
quoted, addressed to the Emperors Michael and Theophilus in which, after a very
respectful salutation, Theodore again refuses to discuss publicly with
heretics, gives a confession of faith, goes through a good many of the
arguments used against iconoclasm, and insists on the authority of Ecumenical
Councils. A letter to the same purport with regard to Conciliar authority was
written by him to the Sacellarius Leo, in which he
referred to the offers made three years ago,—a fact which seems to prove that
Michael had kept the same object in view during this time, but had been
prevented by the rebellion from carrying it out. It seems that the Emperor had
determined not to allow the cult of icons, or to listen to suggestions for the
restoration of Nicephorus, till a definite arrangement had been made. Theodore
retired first to the monastery of Crescentius, where he must have had fairly
complete liberty, since he was able to see his friends and to write letters to
his adherents. The country was still in a very unquiet state, and he was soon
compelled by an Arab inroad to leave Crescentius for the promontory of Acrita, where there was a religious house dedicated to St.
Tryphon. It must have been about this time that he had the great sorrow of
losing his brother, the Bishop of Thessalonica, who was afterwards buried at
Studium.
The Emperor Michael did not
prove equal to the task of settling the disturbances which had been partly
cause, partly effect, of the rebellion of Thomas. There were complaints on many
hands of oppression and incapacity on the part of his government, and having
little culture or tact, he failed to maintain a position of personal dignity in
the eyes of his officers and of the public generally. The two great disasters
that came upon the Empire soon after the suppression of Thomas are such as we
cannot lay entirely to his charge, though they are part of the general failure
of the Empire to defend the Provinces. These are the losses of Crete and of
Sicily. Crete was overrun by a band of Saracens from Spain, whose leader burned
his ships and forced his followers to make wives of the captive women and to
settle as permanent colonists. The efforts made to recover the island ended in
failure. The ancient Greek cities had to submit to Moslem rule, which remained
in the island for nearly a hundred and forty years. The other loss to the
Empire was still more serious, and it was permanent. A Syracusan citizen, said to have married a nun and to have raised an insurrection in order
to escape the amputation of his nose, invited Arabs from Africa, who, after a
considerable period, possessed themselves of the whole island. The fighting was
not all over during the lifetime either of Theodore or of Michael. One cannot
help thinking that the religious controversies, with the exile of the monks and
their supporters, helped to bring about the catastrophe. The refugees, who must
have existed in considerable numbers in these parts, were not likely to welcome
the Arabs, but their influence cannot have tended to the loyal support of the imperial
government.
But Michael showed himself
sincerely desirous of internal peace, and he determined to look for it in the
direction so often indicated by Theodore. He resolved, however, not to apply
straight to the Pope, but to approach the Papal See by means of the Emperor
Lewis the Pious, with whom the relations of the Byzantine Court had continued,
on the whole, friendly.
The attitude towards the
Papal power of Theodore, Michael, and Lewis respectively; is characteristic and
instructive. To Theodore, as we have seen, always ready to recognize “the
archetype in the image”, the Pope is both legally and practically the wielder
of supreme power. Distressed Christians may appeal to him for aid as the
disciples called to Christ when the storm threatened their boat. To Michael he
probably seemed an inconveniently powerful prelate, whose action was
embarrassing in many ways, but who might be presumed to stand to the Emperor
Lewis in much the same relation as the Patriarch of Constantinople to the
Eastern Emperor. Probably neither party realized how the complicated relations
of the Papal and the Frankish Court made any effectual intervention almost
impossible.
The name by which Lewis is
commonly called—the Pious—suggests his habitual deference to the authority of
the Church. But this by no means implies great respect for the Pope. Councils
had been held in his dominions for the reform of monastic institutions and for
the redress of ecclesiastical grievances, but these measures had not been
undertaken at Papal instigation. The act of Lewis which showed the most entire
submission to the spiritual authority, the penance he underwent at Attigny for
sins which modern historians commonly regard as no sins at all, whatever it
was, was not a “going to Canossa”. Pope Paschal, at the moment when Theodore
was entreating the Emperor of the East to reduce the Church under the papal
authority, was labouring under the charge of having
caused the murder of two dependents of the Emperor of the West, and was only
cleared after a commission of inquiry and a solemn act of expurgation. His
successor, Eugenius, was appointed under the direct influence of the Emperor’s
son Lothaire, but was not inclined to adopt a very decided policy.
Michael’s letter was a
singular production. It abounded with commonplaces about the blessings of peace
and unity. It repudiated any responsibility for the murder of his predecessor,
and gave some account of the recent troubles with Thomas, which were urged in
excuse of the Emperor s dilatoriness in opening negotiations with Lewis. It
passed on to make complaints of the Iconodules, who
refused, it said, any conference and compromise, and were guilty of all manner
of superstitious practices, such as mixing the scrapings of the images in the
sacred wine, taking statues as sponsors for children (a practice, as we have
seen, not disapproved by Theodore), replacing the cross by an icon, and so
forth. He expresses his own orthodoxy and moderation, carefully stating that he
acknowledges the ecumenical councils—thus excluding the second of Nicaea, and
declares that he and those who have come to his conference have ordered the
images not to be broken but placed beyond the reach of the worshippers’ hands
and lips. He requests Lewis to use his influence with the Pope against the
calumnies of the fugitives.
The following events took a
peculiar course. The ambassadors proceeded to Rome along with some messengers
from Lewis. The result was that permission was granted to the French clergy to
meet in Council—or Conference—and draw up a collection of the opinions of the
Fathers on the subject of Images and Image-worship.
The Council, or, as it is
more precisely called, the Collatio, which was summoned in consequence of this permission, sat in Paris in 825, and
drew up several very lengthy documents. The main part of their work was, of
course, the collection of Patristic authorities. We meet in it many of the
stock quotations, but it is incomplete and bears some marks of haste. The
general result is a decision in favor of the mean—a reassertion, so far as
doctrine is concerned, of the decrees of Frankfort. A moderate reverence is to
be paid to images, the use of which is primarily educational and commemorative.
The opinion quoted which seems most entirely to represent the view of the
Frankish Church, is one already cited—that of Gregory the Great in his
admonition to Serenus, Bishop of Marseilles. “It is
one thing to adore a picture, another to learn, through representation in a
picture, what is worthy to be adored. For what the faithful who read receive
from books is given to the simple in pictures; since by them the ignorant are
instructed in their duty and in them the illiterate can read”.
The Council drew up a letter for Lewis to send to the Pope and even one
for the Pope to send to Michael. Neither of these epistles ever arrived at its
destination. But two French Bishops, Jeremy of Sens and Jonas of Orleans, were
sent to Rome, with a long paper of instructions bidding them deal very
diplomatically with the Pope, and endeavor to persuade him to join with the
Emperor in sending a peace-making embassy to Michael. It certainly would have
been inadvisable to state plainly before even the most imperially minded Pope
the condemnation that the Collatio, at Paris
had pronounced against Pope Hadrian for
disapproving the articles of Frankfort. Whether the fault lay with Jonas and
Jeremy or with circumstances we cannot say. But the Pope did not send any
legates, nor did any sent by the Emperor effect the kind of understanding
desired. All dreams of a spiritual force proceeding from the West to calm the
storms raging in the East, proved a mirage. Different indeed were the hopes of
Theodore from those of the Fathers assembled at Paris, but both were alike
illusory.
There is but one passage in
Theodore’s correspondence which seems to refer to this attempt at conciliation.
In writing to the monk Nicetas he acknowledges a book
which has been sent to him setting forth the doctrine that pictorial representations
are an indulgence to the imperfect. This view, substantially that of the Synod
of Paris, is extremely repugnant to him. He objects to the division of the
Church into the perfect and the imperfect (did he suspect Manichaeism here?),
and quotes as a reductio ad absurdum the instruction which the great Basil professed to receive from pictures.
Whether he knew anything more about Western opinion we cannot tell. It is not
impossible that some of his friends who had taken up their abode in Italy may
have used their efforts to keep Eugenius from accepting the part which had been
assigned to him by the French clergy and their Emperor.
The Frankish Church
continued for some time to regard pictures and statues as educational aids.
Some churchmen went the length of actual iconoclasm, especially the notorious
heretic, Claudius of Turin. But there was no persecution. It seemed for the
time as if diversity of view were more possible in the West than in the East.
Meantime, where conscious
effort failed, an apparently unimportant circumstance connected with the
negotiations helped ultimately and indirectly to bring the East nearer to the
West. Among the gifts brought from Constantinople to the court of Lewis was a
copy of the works of that prince of mystics, the pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite. Lewis ordered that a translation should be made
of them. The attempt failed, but the task was afterwards taken up by more
competent hands. There seems an irony of fate in the circumstance that the very
same action which brought about a declaration of the most common-sense,
unimaginative, one might almost say pseudo-rationalistic view of religious
symbols, also brought into Western Europe one of the most abundant sources of
high-soaring mysticism. For from Dionysius arose the fountain that helped to
fructify the whole spiritual Reid of mediaeval thought, that nourished the
philosophy of Scotus and even of Aquinas, the art of
Botticelli, and the poetical imagery of Dante.
CHAPTER XII
THEODORE’S PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE. HIS DEATH
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