Dialogue on the Life of St. John Chrysostom

Hereupon Theophilus, finding himself likely to be humiliated in face of the actual truth, adjourned the inquiry to another day; and by large promises induced a boy to lay an accusation against Isidore, giving him a bribe, it is said, of twenty-five gold pieces, which he at once handed over to his mother. The mother refused to accept the money, deterred partly by the thought of the unbiassed Eye, partly by fear of the laws of the land; she reflected that Isidore, if falsely accused, might appeal to the magistrate. So she came and told Isidore the whole story, and showed him the coins, which she said she had received from Theophilus' sister as "a reward against the innocent." The woman paid the due penalty for her many sins, and for this one in particular; she died under an operation on the breasts. All this time Isidore stayed at home, making supplication to God. The boy, partly in fear of the laws, partly at the thought of Theophilus' rage at his failure, fled to the efficacious protection of the Church, and took refuge at the altar.

Thus, on a revolting allegation, the rights of which were never heard, Theophilus declared Isidore to be outcast from the Church; a solemn farce to disguise his own wickedness. Isidore now took alarm, lest Theophilus in his increasing fury should take measures against his personal safety (for by all accounts, he actually went as far as this), and made his way with all speed to the community of monks of the mountain of Nitria, where he had spent his youth; here he sat in his cell, and addressed himself in prayer to the long-suffering God.

Meanwhile Theophilus, conscious of the indecency and doubtfulness of his victory, sent letters to the neighbouring bishops, ordering some of the principal monks, the heads of the monasteries, to be expelled from the mountain and from the further desert, without giving his reasons. These monks went down to Alexandria, with their priests, and begged Theophilus to state the grounds on which they were condemned to expulsion. Theophilus stared at them, like. a dragon, with bloodshot eyes, glaring like a bull; in his uncontrollable temper, he was livid one moment, pale the next, the next again smiling sarcastically. He took the tippet upon the shoulders of the aged Ammonius, and twisted it round his neck with his own hands, punching him in the face, making his nose bleed with his clenched fists, and shouting, "Anathematize Origen, you heretic!" when the only point at issue was the petition on behalf of Isidore. This is the way with bad tempers; their actions and words are like puppies, born blind. So they returned, all bloodstained, to their monasteries, without receiving an answer; and continued their usual life of austerity, sharpening their natural powers by the study of the scriptures, through which we win salvation. They thought the less of the man's frenzy, because they were conscious of their own innocence.

CHAPTER VII. THEOPHILUS, THE MONKS AND CHRYSOSTOM

Not content with this, Theophilus sent to the neighbouring bishops, and convened a synod to condemn the monks; without calling them to defend themselves, or letting them speak a word, he declared outcast three of the most eminent of them (he was afraid to issue sentence of punishment upon the whole body at once), trumping up a charge of perversion of doctrine. The very men whom he had often honoured above bishops as teachers, for their lives, their gifts of speech, and their length of service, he was not ashamed to call impostors, for their attitude towards Isidore. Following up this declaration, he secured five mannikins from Mount Nitria itself, who never had a place in the chapter-meeting of the elders of the desert, creatures not fit, much as it pains me to say so, to keep the doors; one of them he ordained bishop, and as he had not a city at his disposal, placed him in charge of a little village. He had no scruples about revolutionary acts, as he called himself a second Moses. Another he ordained priest, and the other three deacons. These were not Egyptians, but from different countries—one from Libya, one from Alexandria, one from Pharana, one from Paralus; as they had no hope of making anything out of their native countries, they fell in with his ridiculous measures.

Next, he persuaded them to present memorials against the three excommunicate bishops, concocting the terms of the accusation himself; their only contribution was the signature. This done, he accepted the memorials from them in the presence of the Church, and proceeded to the governor under the crown, with whom he lodged a representation against them in his own name, as archbishop of the diocese of Egypt, together with the falsely incriminating memorials, demanding the expulsion of the men, with the help of the military, from every part of Egypt.

Armed with the governor's order, and taking the military with him to cover his doings, he gathered a mob of ruffians, who cared nothing about dignities, and fell upon the monasteries in the dead of night, after priming his young fellows with liquor. First, he ordered their saintly brother Dioscorus, bishop of the mountain, to be expelled from his throne, literally dragged away by Ethiopian slaves, probably unbaptized into the bargain, and took possession of his see, which since the coming of Christ had been in the possession of the city of Dioscorus. Next, he raided the mountain, and gave the trifling property of the monks to his youths; when he had stripped the cells, he searched for the three bishops, whom they had let down into a well, putting rushes upon its mouth. As he could not find them, he set their cells on fire with faggots, burning up with them all their copies of the canonical scriptures, and other valuable writings, as well as a boy (so eye-witnesses said), and the sacred elements.

When he had thus relieved his senseless fury, he wcnt down again to Alexandria, giving the saintly men an opportunity of escape; they at once took their sheepskin habits, and fled to Palestine, making their way to Aelia, accompanied by 300 of the worthy monks of the mountain, and a body of priests and deacons. The rest were scattered abroad in different places.

The serpent who creeps by crooked ways could not tolerate their freedom, and again stirred up Theophilus against them; boiling with rage, he wrote letters to the bishops of Palestine, as follows: "You ought not to have received these men into your cities, contrary to my judgment; but as you did it in ignorance, I grant you pardon. Look to it then in the future, that you admit them neither into ecclesiastical, nor into private premises." In the extravagance of his pride, he not only said, but actually imagined that he was a god.

The fugitives, sorely distressed by this continual movement from place to place, arrived at the capital, where Bishop John had been enthroned under the good hand of God for the spiritual care of our rulers; they fell at his feet, begging him to help souls slandered and plundered by men better accustomed to this sort of thing than to doing good.

John stood up, and saw fifty first-rate men, their habits worn grey with their holy toils. With his keen sense of brotherly love, he was deeply moved, and bursting, like Joseph, into tears, inquired what wild boar from the forests, or rogue beast, had been doing mischief to this fruitful vine. "Be seated, father," they answered; "give us dressings for our ghastly wounds, inflicted through the frenzy of Pope Theophilus, and see if you can bind up our swelling gashes. If even you give us no attention, through respect to, or fear of, Theophilus, as the other bishops have done, there is nothing left for us to do, but to go to the king, and inform him of this man's ill-doings, to the disrepute of the Church. If then you have any concern for the good name of the Church, receive our petition, and persuade him to allow us our home in Egypt. We have committed no offence, either against the law of the Saviour or against the Pope himself."

John thought that he would have no difficulty in changing the revengeful feelings of Theophilus towards them, and gladly took the matter in hand. He instructed the men, for the love of God, to keep silence, and to tell no one why they were there, until he should send word to his brother Theophilus. He gave them sleeping-quarters in the Church of the Resurrection, but did not supply them with any of the necessities of life. Some godly women provided them with food, and they made their own contribution by the labours of their hands.

It happened that at that time there were some of Theophilus' clergy in Constantinople, who had come to purchase promotion from the newly-appointed governors in the province of Egypt, and to secure their favour towards him, in carrying out his plans for the destruction of those who were an annoyance to him. So John called these men, and inquired if they knew the ascetics who were in the city. They frankly gave the men a good character. "We know them," they told John; "it is true that they have been treated with great violence. If it please you, my lord, refuse them communion in the spiritual feast, so as not to annoy the Pope, but deal kindly with them in everything else. This will be expected of you, as bishop."

So John did not receive them into communion, but wrote to Theophilus, courteously asking him to do him, as Theophilus' son and brother, the favour of taking the men like little children in his arms. Theophilus refused to do John the favour, and sent to him certain persons well versed in verbal disputes —the men we have just mentioned—instructing them to present requirements, which as usual he dictated himself, containing statements admittedly false, but dressed out with all sorts of calumnies in regard to the men's spiritual condition, as he had nothing to bring against their outward lives. Thus they were to be pointed at as impostors at the palace.

Seeing that Theophilus, so far from coming to a right mind, was all the more bitter against them, the ascetics sent a numerous deputation to him, declaring that they anathematized all false doctrine; and presented a petition to John, detailing the various forms of oppression from which they suffered, and some specific points of complaint. I am ashamed to speak of them in the presence of these young people, for fear of shaking their confidence in my veracity; perhaps, too, even more experienced Christians might not believe me.

John again, both in person and through other bishops, urged them to drop the charges against Theophilus, in view of the mischief which the suit would cause, and wrote to Theophilus: "They are reduced to such extremities, that they are filing a formal indictment against you. I leave it to you to deal with it as you think best; for I cannot persuade them to leave the capital."

At this, Theophilus blazed with anger, and suspended the brother of the monks, Bishop Dioscorus, a man who had grown old in the service of the Church, from ministering in his own church; while he wrote to John: "I think that you are unaware of the order of the Nicene Canons, in which it is laid down that a bishop shall not exercise jurisdiction beyond his boundaries; if so, now that you know it, leave these charges against me alone, if there was any need for me to be put on my trial, it should be before Egyptian judges, not before you, at the distance of a seventy-five days' journey."

CHAPTER VIII. FIRST EXPULSION OF CHRYSOSTOM

John received the letter, but kept it to himself, and discussed measures for peace with the ascetics of both parties. Both were exasperated at what he said to them; the exiles, because they had been tyrannically treated, the others, because they had no power to make peace without Theophilus, as it was at his orders that they had presented the falsely incriminating petitions. This done, John dismissed the matter from his mind, as he considered them to be answered.

Hereupon the monks of the aggrieved party withdrew, and compiled a lengthy petition, formally charging the other monks with libel, and Theophilus —well, to tell the truth, with everything that any one of them knew him to have done. They appealed to their majesties, approaching the queen in the shrine of the holy John, with the petition that the case of the disputant monks might be investigated before the prefects, and that Theophilus, however much against his will, might appear to stand his trial before John. The petition was made, and the answer was, that Theophilus should be summoned by the magistrate to appear, whether willing or unwilling, and take his trial before John; and that Theophilus' monks should substantiate the charges preferred against the aged saints or pay the penalty of false accusation.

So Captain (retired) Elaphius was sent to Alexandria to bring Theophilus, while the justices carried out the rest of the Empress' answer. The investigation was held, and an indecisive result obtained; but as they were still threatened with the glittering sword of the law, the poor wretches took fright at the possible issue, and got the matter adjourned until Theophilus' arrival, on the ground that he had suborned, them, and had dictated the petitions. So the officials put them in prison, until Theophilus should arrive, bail being refused under the circumstances of the case. Some of them lingered in prison until they died, owing to the slow movements of Theophilus; others, subsequently to his arrival, when he hurried forward the matter by means of bribes, were at the final inquiry sentenced to transportation to Proconnesus for malicious accusation.

So Theophilus arrived at Constantinople, like a beetle loaded with the dung of the best that Egypt, or India itself, produces, emitting sweet scent to cover his stinking jealousy; he entered the city at mid-day on the fifth day of the week, cheered by a mob of sailors. Such was the palm of dishonourable glory which he had to bear—the glory of which the apostle said long ago, "Whose glory is in their shame," and added, "who mind earthly things." He took up his quarters in the tents of the unrighteous, and avoided the Church, forgetful of David's verse, "I had rather be cast away in the house of my God, than to dwell in tents of sinners." It was his own conscience that shut him out from the Church.

In the course of three whole weeks he never held any conversation with John, such as is customary among bishops, and never went near the church, but linked his new hostility with the old, and spent night and day in his efforts to expel Bishop John not only from the Church, but even from life itself. He lavished money in purchasing the support of the superstitious spirits among the authorities against the truth, made the greedy ones his slaves by the abundance of his table, and further, by flattery and promises of promotion, won over his fellow-impostors among the clergy. When he had put all these in bonds—of pleasure, not of rope—like some seducing demon, and bewitched the discerning faculties of their souls, he looked about for some demoniacal person to be his understudy in the play, and succeeded in finding what he wanted.

There were two deacons, who had been expelled from the Church by Bishop John for criminal offences. He availed himself of their frailty, and persuaded them to present memorials against John, promising to restore them to their office. Their offences were murder and fornication respectively. He fulfilled his promise; for after the banishment of John he restored them to their places, obviously because they had presented the memorials which Theophilus himself dictated. They contained not a word of truth, except the one point, that he advised every one, after communion, to take a little water, or a pastille, for fear that they might involuntarily spit out a portion of the elements with the saliva or phlegm. He first adopted the practice himself, to teach reverent care to those who would learn.

On receiving the memorials, Theophilus held a meeting at the house of Eugraphia; at which were present Severianus, Antiochus, Acacius, and every one else who had a grudge against John for his seemly exhortations. For the blessed bishop, like St. Paul, made a practice in his teaching, "both publicly and from house to house," of urging dignified behaviour; he was especially severe with women like Eugraphia. "At your age," he would say, "when you are really old women, and widows into the bargain, why do you force your bodies to become young again, wearing curls on your foreheads like the women of the street, bringing every other lady into disrepute, and giving people generally a false impression?"