The Orthodox Eastern Church/Chapter 5

by Adrian Henry Timothy Knottesford Fortescue

 

CHAPTER V

 

THE SCHISM OF CERULARIUS

 

We now come to the final rupture. If the story of Photius's usurpation and schism is discreditable to the Byzantine Church, that of Cerularius is far more so. It is the same, or an even worse story of aggression against Rome, and it is infinitely more gratuitous. In the case of Photius one can at any rate understand his motives. He wanted to be Patriarch, and, as the Pope would not have him, he would not have the Pope. In this schism of Cerularius one asks oneself continually: What is it all about? No one had attacked him; there does not seem to have been the very least provocation; the whole story looks as if he and his friends had no other motive than a love of schism for its own sake. A sketch of the three persons most concerned in this final separation will help to make the story clear.

 

1. The Pope, the Emperor, and the Patriarch.

The final blow came just in the middle of the 11th century. At that time the Roman Court was recovering from a very bad period. After John VIII (872–882), of whom we have heard in the last chapter, came Marinus (882–884). From his time corruption of every kind gradually spread over Rome, and things got steadily worse, till the German Popes begin with Clement II (1046–1047). During that long period of a century and a half there is hardly one, perhaps not one Pope, who was even an ordinarily good bishop. It is a long story of simoniacal elections, murder and violence of every kind, together with shameless lust. The Romans still remember the three abominable women (le donne cattive), old Theodora, Marozia, and young Theodora, who from about 900 till 932 ruled Rome, filling the city with their abominations, and setting up one wretched boy after another as Pope. Meanwhile the Normans were plundering the coast of Italy, the Saracens had conquered Sicily, were ravaging the South of the Peninsula, and had come thundering even to the very gates of Rome. Then at last in the 11th century came the reaction. As for civil affairs, the great Saxon Emperors saw to them. Otto I (936–973) crushed the Magyars (at the river Lech in 935) and then came to set things right in Italy. He broke down all the little tyrants who were devastating the country, and once more joined all Germany, from Strassburg to the Oder, and Italy down to Gaeta in the Western Roman Empire. The reform of the Church was the work of the Cluniac monks. The Benedictine Abbey of Cluny (Cluniacum), in the diocese of Macon in Burgundy, had for its Abbot since 910 Berno, once Count of Burgundy. After Berno came St. Odo († 941). Cluny first reformed itself, going back to the strict keeping of St. Benedict's rule; then an enormous number of other Benedictine houses were founded under its obedience, and from them came all the great bishops and Popes who in the 11th century wiped out the shame of the past by their stern discipline and their own saintly lives. Greatest of all, the soul of the reform and of the whole Cluniac movement was Hildebrand, counsellor and director of seven Popes before he became one of the greatest of all as St. Gregory VII (1073–1085). The Pope who was concerned with the schism of Cerularius was the third of the German reforming Popes, and one of the many disciples of Hildebrand—St. Leo IX (1048–1054). He was Bruno, Count of Nordgau in Elsass, and a cousin of the Emperor Henry III (1039–1056). Then he became Bishop of Toul. When Pope Damasus II (1047–1048) died, the Emperor tried to appoint Bruno Pope.

It is not certain whether Bruno had ever actually been a Cluniac monk, but at any rate he stood very much under the influence of the Abbey and of Hildebrand. It was Hildebrand who persuaded him not to accept so uncanonical an appointment, so he went to Rome dressed as a pilgrim, and protested to the Roman clergy that they were to hold a free election, and that if he were not lawfully chosen he would go back to Toul, his diocese. Then, when he had been canonically made Pope, he set about his task of a reform in root and branch. He sternly put down Simony, and all his life he fought against the incontinence of the clergy. These were the two radical vices spread throughout his patriarchate. Every year at Easter he held high session at Rome, and tried cases of these crimes. And on all sides pitilessly he deposed simoniacal clerks, no matter how high their place or great their influence. Metropolitans and archbishops, even the Emperor's own chaplain, one after another they had to go if they had bought their places with money. In this reform he had very great men to help him—Hildebrand, Hugo Abbot of Cluny, and St. Peter Damian, whose burning language about the horrible state of things that had gone before (Liber Gommorhianus—the Book of Gomorrha) is as indignant and also as candid as should be that of a Saint. No Pope ever had a higher or a more uncompromising idea of the dignity and rights of his see than Leo IX. We shall see this from his correspondence with the Greeks. The views of Leo are already those of Gregory VII, and the foundation of all his polity is that, by the promise made by our Lord to St. Peter, the Roman See "must hold the primacy over the four sees, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, and Constantinople" (notice how he will not give Constantinople the second place; he is still true to the principle of Leo the Great, p. 42), "as well as over all the Churches of God throughout the whole world."^[1] Leo IX was also concerned about the peace of Italy, and was always a determined enemy of the Norman pirates. These Normans were also the enemies of the Emperor in the East, who still had a precarious tenure over Southern Italy (Magna Græcia), a tenure that chiefly showed itself in attempts to assert the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople in those parts.^[2] So the Pope seeks for an alliance with the Ernperor against the common enemy, and treats with Argyros, a freebooting person who had got from Constantinople a commission to fight against the Normans.^[3] The republic of Amalphi acknowledged the suzerainty of New Rome till 1073, and its doge was an Imperial "Proedros." There was, then, every reason for the Eastern Emperor and the Pope to remain friends at this time, and they both knew it. It was the Patriarch who forced the schism on them, very much against the will of both. But such a man as St. Leo IX was not likely to allow the rights of the Holy See to be defied. One is as glad that the cause of the Latins was represented by so great a man as Leo in 1054 as that Nicholas was Pope in 857.

The Emperor, Constantine IX (Constantine Monomachos, 1042–1054), was of a very different type. One of the many adventurers who climbed from a low place to the Roman throne, he had already been exiled for trying to usurp it, when he succeeded quite peaceably by marrying Zoe, the youngest daughter of Basil the Macedonian. She had already been twice married, and had made both her husbands Emperors (Romanos, 1028–1034, and Michael IV, 1034–1041). Now in 1042 she marries for the third time. Her husband, Constantine, had also been twice married, so that there was a double infringement of Byzantine Canon Law,^[4] but this time no one made much difficulty. Constantine had been strong, learned, witty,^[5] and very beautiful; but soon after he became Emperor he was struck by paralysis, and remains henceforth well-meaning but hopelessly weak and frightened. The chief policy of his reign was to drive the Normans out of Magna Græcia, and for this he needed the help of both the Pope and his Western rival. For every reason, then, he wanted to keep friends with the Latins, and, as we shall see, he was always strongly against the schism.

The cause of all the trouble was Michael Cerularius (Κηρουλάριος) the Patriarch (1043–1058). Like Photius, who was in all things his predecessor and model, Cerularius had not originally intended to be a priest. He was born of a great senatorial house of Constantinople, and began his career as a statesman. He seems to have had some place at Court, but in 1040 he was banished because of a plot to depose Michael IV. It was said that if the plot had succeeded Cerularius himself would have become Emperor.^[6] They try to make him a monk, so as to cut off all further danger from him, but he absolutely refuses to take vows, until the suicide of his brother suddenly changes the attitude of his mind, and he freely enters a monastery. As soon as Constantine IX becomes Emperor he sends for Cerularius, who seems to have been already his friend, and greatly favours him. As he is a monk, and so cannot hold any of the great offices of state, Constantine invents a new rank on purpose for him. Cerularius is declared the Emperor's "familiar friend and guest at meals,"^[7] and on the strength of this very vague position becomes the most powerful man in the Empire. But for a monk advancement must follow the usual road to a bishopric, so Cerularius is made Synkellos, that is practically secretary of the Patriarch. The Synkellos was always a bishop, and held a place in the Church of Constantinople second only to that of the Patriarch himself. It seems that at this juncture he was ordained bishop from having had no order at all, without having kept the Interstices, and that this is what the Roman accusation of being a neophyte means, which was afterwards made as often against him as it had been against Photius.^[8]

The Patriarch Alexios (1025–1043) died on February 22, 1043, and at once Constantine appointed his friend to succeed him. There was no election; the Emperor went "like an arrow to the target"^[9] and chose Cerularius. That was, however, the end of their friendship, and the new Patriarch, as we shall see, was entirely ungrateful to his former patron. It is not difficult to form an opinion about Cerularius's character. Michael Psellos knew him well, and he wrote a funeral oration in his honour,^[10] as well as a detailed history of his own times, from 976 to 1077.^[11] This history is (together with the acts of the Controversy published by Will) the chief source for the story of this time. From Psellos's account it is clear that the leading notes of Cerularius's character were a savage reserve, vindictiveness, and unbounded pride. He never forgave an injury,^[12] he impressed the people by the austere dignity of his manner, and, as we shall see, on the patriarchal throne he considered himself to be placed far above the weak and paralytic Emperor, and behaved as if he held the first place in Christendom. His relaxation appears to have been the search for the philosopher's stone,^[13] an occupation that had the advantage of being always interesting and never exhausted. It was then almost to be expected that two such characters as those of Leo IX and Michael Cerularius should clash; and yet the attack on the Latins made by the Patriarch was so wanton, so entirely unprovoked, and so especially ill-timed in the interests of the Empire, that there can be only one explanation of it. He must have belonged to the extreme wing of the anti-papal party at Constantinople—the party left by Photius—and must have been determined from the beginning on war with Rome on any or no pretext, as soon as ever he had a chance of declaring it.

 

2. The Schism.

It was in the midst of the "perfect peace" between the two halves of Christendom, in the year 1053, that a letter arrived for a Latin bishop from one of his Greek brothers. As we shall see, this letter was the opening of a campaign already carefully thought out by Michael Cerularius. The letter was written by Leo, formerly a clerk of the Church of Constantinople, and now Metropolitan of Achrida,^[14] and was addressed to John, Bishop of Tranum (Trani in Apulia).^[15] But Leo says that he means it "for all the bishops of the Franks and for the most venerable Pope." It is an attack on all the customs of the Latin Church that are different from those of Constantinople. He is specially indignant at two—fasting on Saturdays and the consecration of unleavened bread. These two customs, he says, are totally unchristian; they are nothing but a return to Jewish superstition, the unleavened bread, because the Jews keep their Passover with it, and the fasting on Saturday he connects in some confused way with the Jewish Sabbath. This last idea is, of course, quite specially absurd. To fast, or at least abstain, on Saturday as well as on Friday was the custom in the West for many centuries. The abstinence is still the rule in Italy. Benedict XIV (1740–1758) declared that it does not bind in countries where a contrary custom has been prescribed against it,^[16] and now throughout the greater part of the Catholic Church the faithful have never even heard of it. The idea of the abstinence was that it should be kept during all the time that our Lord was dead and buried, from the day of the Crucifixion till he rises again on Sunday morning. It was never even remotely connected with the old Sabbath, which was a feast day (like our Sunday) on which no Jew has ever fasted. All through this story one is equally amazed at the impertinence of these Byzantines who will not mind their own business (no one ever asked them to use unleavened bread, and they could always eat as much as they liked on Saturday) and at the ridiculous charges they rake up. We may also note at once that throughout the quarrel that is coming now the question of the Filioque is hardly touched at all: their great grievance this time is our unleavened bread (Azyme). John of Tranum reads his letter and then sends it on to Cardinal Humbert of Silva Candida, asking what he thinks of it. This Cardinal Humbert will be the chief defender of the Latins throughout the quarrel. He was a Burgundian, and had been a monk at one of the Cluniac houses in Lothringen. Lanfranc says that he was a great scholar.^[17] The Pope brought him out of his monastery, made him Bishop of Silva Candida^[18] and a cardinal, and kept him at Rome as one of his own advisers. Cardinal Humbert then (being a Greek scholar) translates the letter into Latin and shows it to the Pope.

Meanwhile Cerularius, having sent off this declaration of war,^[19] proceeds to strengthen his position at home. It is most important to him to make sure that all the East is with him. To secure this he sends round to the other patriarchs and to various metropolitans a treatise written in Latin by a monk of Studium (the great Laura, once so faithful to Rome, pp. 65, 141, note 4), Niketas Stethatos (Pectoratus in Latin) against the Western Church.^[20] Niketas asks in this treatise how the Romans, "wisest and noblest of all races," can have fallen into such "horrible infirmities." He answers that certain Jews at the time of the Apostles had, for the hope of wicked gain, corrupted the pure Gospel at Rome. The "horrible infirmities" are Azyme bread for Mass, fasting on Saturday, and celibacy. This last point was specially offensive to a Pope who was standing out for the celibacy of clerks with all his might. The politeness of his reference to the Romans as the wisest and noblest of races does not at all accord with the general tone of his writing, for he goes on to apply to them St. Paul's words: "dogs, bad workmen, schismatics" (Phil. iii. 2), also "hypocrites and liars, who forbid marriage and abstain from foods that God has made"^[21] (1 Tim. iv. 1–3).

Cerularius's third move was to make it quite clear that he meant war to the knife. There were a number of Latin churches at Constantinople; the Emperor's Varangian guard, who were all Norsemen and Enghshmen, had one, so also the merchants from Amalphi and the Magyars; there were some Latin monasteries, too, and the Papal Apocrisarius (Nuntius at the Court) had a Latin chapel in his house. Cerularius has all these churches shut up, even the Apocrisarius's chapel, in defiance of the universal respect paid to embassies, and he tells all the Latins in the city to stop being Azymites and to use the Byzantine rite. His Chancellor, Nikephoros, who of course believed in the Real Presence just as we do, bursts open Latin tabernacles and tramples on the Blessed Sacrament, because it is consecrated in Azyme.^[22]

One wonders why Cerularius had waited so long before making his attack. He had become Patriarch in 1043. There had been no provocation meanwhile; nothing whatever had happened to irritate him. And now suddenly, after ten years, in 1053, he behaves like this. The only explanation is that he had been waiting for an opportune moment, when the Pope would be in as weak a position as possible. And that moment had come. The Pope's army had just been badly defeated by the Normans at Civitella (1053) and he himself had only escaped because of the reverence that these Normans felt for the person of St. Peter's successor. It is true that the Normans were even more the enemies of Byzantium; it is also true that a feeling of chivalry prevents decent people from launching a wanton attack on any one just when he is in trouble; but of course Cerularius cared nothing about that.

Leo IX then answers the letter of Leo of Achrida.^[23] He evidently knows from whom the attack has come, for he begins: "Leo, Bishop, Servant of the Servants of God, to Michael of Constantinople and Leo of Achrida, Bishops." The leading idea of his letter is that peace and concord must reign throughout the Church. Woe to those who break it! Woe to those who "with high-sounding and false words and with impious and sacrilegious hands cruelly try to rend the glorious robe of Christ, that has no stain nor spot." He most emphatically asserts the primacy of his see.^[24] He will not deign to defend the practices attacked by Leo of Achrida: "Do you not see," he says, "how impudent it is to say that the Heavenly Father has hidden from Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, the proper rite of the visible sacrifice?" He quotes all the Petrine texts, and he also makes much of the Donatio Constantini.^[25] For this he deserves no blame, since no one suspected its authenticity till the 15th century. And he turns the tables on the aggressors by showing how often heresies, and real heresies, have come from Constantinople, and have been condemned by Rome. He mentions Eusebius of Nicomedia, Macedonius, Nestorius, Eutyches, Pyrrhus, and others, showing that, instead of being corrected by the East, Old Rome has continually saved the Church from the errors of New Rome. With regard to Cerularius's violence to the Latin churches, he points out that no one has ever thought of troubling the many Byzantine churches and monasteries in the Latin Patriarchate. The letter is neither immoderate nor offensive, and the Pope's anger is certainly not greater than the wanton attack on his Church deserved. He also shows his appreciation of the situation by addressing it to Cerularius as well as to Leo of Achrida, and by at once coming to the root of the whole matter, the Roman Primacy. On receipt of this letter, Cerularius seems for a moment to have wavered from his scheme and to have made some overtures of peace. His answer is not extant, but it is referred to in several documents. He writes to Peter of Antioch that he had proposed an "alliance" with the Pope, and he himself says why: "That he might be well-disposed and friendly to us concerning the help he is to give us against the Franks (he means the Normans)."^[26] Evidently for a moment the importance of the war against the Normans overshadowed in his mind the great plan of breaking with Rome.

But this attitude did not last long, and even while it did last his overweening pride made him suggest what he wanted in the most impossible way. His own word, alliance (σύμβασις), shows his point of view. It was to be a treaty drawn up between two equal and independent Powers, or rather not equal, for he had arrived at thinking himself a far greater man than the Pope. "You write to us," answers Leo IX, "that if we make your name honoured in the one Church of Rome, you will make our name honoured throughout the whole world. What monstrous idea is this, my dear brother?"^[27] To have written such nonsense to the Pontiff who was obeyed from Sicily to Norway, and from Poland to the Atlantic, seems, if it were not meant just as another insult, to be the very madness of pride. The Pope's answer to this proposed "alliance" is: "So little does the Roman Church stand alone, as you think, that in the whole world any nation that in its pride dissents from her is in no way a Church, but a council of heretics, a conventicle of schismatics and a synagogue of Satan." He solemnly warns Cerularius against that pride that has always been so great a temptation to the Patriarchs of Constantinople. "How lamentable and detestable is that sacrilegious usurpation by which you everywhere boast yourself to be the Universal Patriarch." … "Let heresies and schisms cease. Let every one who glories in the Christian name cease from cursing and wounding the holy apostolic Roman Church." But he still hopes for peace and he ends: "Pray for us, and may the holy Trinity ever keep your honourable Fraternity."^[28]

With this letter and with an exceedingly friendly one to the Emperor, "Our honourable and beloved son in Christ and glorious Augustus,"^[29] the Pope sends three Legates to Constantinople. They were Cardinal Humbert, Cardinal Frederick, the Chancellor of the Roman Church, Leo's cousin^[30] and Peter, Archbishop of Amalphi. It was the last Embassy that went from Rome to Constantinople.^[31] Meanwhile the Emperor Constantine IX was exceedingly annoyed at the whole disturbance. He did not want a schism in the least; he did not care what sort of bread the Latins use, nor what they eat on Saturday, he wanted the Pope to help him fight the Normans. So he still hopes it will all be made up; he receives the Legates with great honour and lodges them in one of his own palaces. But Cerularius has quite recovered from his idea of an alliance with the Pope; the letter that these Legates brought for him doubtless helped the recovery. He is now very angry at their behaviour. The immemorial custom is for a Papal Legate to take the position of the Pope himself. He is the Pope's representative and alter ego. We have seen (Chap. II, pp. 75–81) that the Legates presided at general councils, taking rank before all the patriarchs. But Cerularius wants these Legates to sit below, not only himself, but all his Metropolitans too. That they refuse to do so, that they do not prostrate themselves before him and that they bear their crosiers in his diocese are the injuries he complains of to Peter of Antioch.^[32] Because of these three points he describes their conduct as "so great insolence, boastfulness, rashness," and says that they have an "arrogant proud spirit" and are "stupid."^[33] Several weeks pass in discussion. Cardinal Humbert composes a "Dialogue between a Roman and a Constantinopolitan," in which he quite temperately answers their charge of Judaism in our customs;^[34] and an answer to the treatise of Niketas Stethatos.^[35] This answer is not temperate. He writes as violently as any Byzantine, and heaps up abusive epithets. Niketas is no monk, but an epicure, who ought to Hve in a circus or house of bad repute, a dog, an abominable cynic, and is made of the same stuff as the Mohammedans. Incredible as it seems, this language converted Niketas. He publicly retracts his book and curses all the enemies of the Roman Church, becoming "henceforth our friend."^[36] There seems no doubt that the Emperor made him do so. Suddenly Pope Leo IX dies (April 19, 1054), just as Nicholas I had died, in the middle of the negotiations. He was not succeeded till a year later by Victor II (1055–1057). Cerularius now refuses to see the Legates and will have nothing more to do with them;^[37] he had already taken the final step by striking the Pope's name off his diptych.^[38] This was open schism.

The Legates then at last prepare a bull of excommunication. They are still on quite good terms with the Emperor, and they are very careful to say nothing against the Byzantine Church.^[39] "As far as the pillars of the Empire are concerned, and its wise and honoured citizens, this city is most Christian and Orthodox." "But we," they go on, "not bearing the unheard-of offence and injury done to the holy Apostolic and first See, wishing to defend in every way the Catholic faith, by the authority of the holy undivided Trinity and of the Apostolic See, whose Legates we are … declare this: That Michael, patriarch by abuse, neophyte, who only took a monk's habit by fear and is now infamous because of many very bad crimes, and with him Leo, called Bishop of Achrida, and the Sacellarius of the said Michael, who with profane feet trampled on the sacrifice of the Latins and all their followers in the aforesaid errors and presumptions shall be Anathema Maranatha … with all heretics, and with the devil and his angels, unless they repent. Amen."^[40] Now that the crash is coming, one asks oneself what else the Legates could have done. They had waited long enough, and if ever a man clearly showed that he wanted schism it was Cerularius. He had already excommunicated the Pope by taking his name off the diptychs. We should note that this is the only sentence that the Roman Church pronounced against the Eastern Communion. She has never excommunicated it as such, nor the other patriarchs. If they lost her communion it was because they too, following Cerularius's example, struck the Pope's name from their diptychs.

It was Saturday, July 16, 1054,^[41] at the third hour (9 a.m). The Hagia Sophia was full of people, the priests and deacons are vested, the Prothesis (preparation) of the holy Liturgy has just begun. Then the three Latin legates walk up the great church through the people, go in through the Royal Door of the Ikonostasis and lay their bull of excommunication on the altar. As they turn back they say: Videat Deus et iudicet.^[42] The schism was complete.

It is always rather dangerous to claim that misfortunes are a judgement of God, and indeed no one could have any thought of satisfaction at the most awful calamity that ever happened to Christian Europe. At the same time one realizes how, from the day the Legates turned back from the altar on which they had laid their bull, the Byzantine Church has been cut off from all intercourse with the rest of Christendom, how her enemies gathered round this city nearer and nearer each century, till at last they took it, how they overturned this very altar as Cerularius had overturned the Latin altars, took away the great church as he had taken away ours, and how since that the successors of the man who would not bow to the Roman Pontiff have had to bow to, have had to receive their investiture from, the unbaptized tyrant who sits on the throne of Constantine; one realizes this and sees that the words of the Legates were heard and that God has seen and judged.

 

3. After the Schism.

The final breach had now come. It is because of these events, culminating in the scene of that Saturday morning, that a hundred millions of Christians to-day have no communion with the Catholic Church. The Legates seem to have still hoped that there would be no breach between the Churches. They had only excommunicated Cerularius and his party. The Emperor was still warmly on their side; had he been strong enough to get rid of the Patriarch the whole affair might have blown over. But he was hopelessly weak in his paralysis, and Cerularius was already by far the strongest man in the Empire. Two days later the Legates set out for Rome. Constantine IX gives them splendid presents for the Pope and for the great monastery of Monte Cassino, always specially favoured by the Eastern Emperors. Hardly were they gone when Cerularius sends after them to call them back; he is now prepared to treat with them. What did he really want? There seems no doubt that he meant to have them murdered. Reckless and useless as such a crime would have been, the evidence is conclusive. Cardinal Humbert says so quite plainly: "Michael tried to make them come to the Church of Holy Wisdom the next day as if to a council, so that—he having already shown the people a copy of the bull, which he had corruptly translated—they should there be massacred. But the prudent Emperor, foreseeing this, would not allow the meeting unless he himself were present."^[43] The Emperor keeps the Legates carefully guarded in his own palace and undertakes to protect their persons whatever happens. Then Cerularius refuses to meet them (on these terms) after all. So they set out again for Rome and this time arrive there quite safely. The Patriarch is now furious with the Emperor and excites a tumult against him. That this revolution was the work of Cerularius is attested by Humbert^[44] and practically confessed by himself. Poor Constantine, terribly frightened, sends an Embassy to the Patriarch, treating with him as with an independent Power, or rather as with a superior, and writing him an abject letter, which Michael himself scornfully describes as "supplicating."^[45] He begs Cerularius not to be hard on him, says that all the trouble caused by this Legation was the fault of Argyros (!), is quite prepared to let Argyros be put in gaol (if they can catch him) and the bull be publicly burned; he solemnly excuses himself for having let the Legates get away unhurt "because of their character as ambassadors."^[46] This letter plainly shows who was responsible for the revolution and what it was that Cerularius wanted to do to the Legates. The Patriarch then holds a synod against the Latins and their bull; and he is so pleased to see the Emperor's humiliation before himself, that he publishes his letter at the end of the Acts of the synod,^[47] not realizing how he thereby makes his own crimes known to all future ages. In this same synod he reproduces the old Encyclical of Photius with all its charges against the Latins and excommunicates us all.

Meanwhile the great question was: What would the other Eastern Patriarchs do? It was, indeed, almost a foregone conclusion that they, who were all Greeks, brought up under the now overwhelming influence of Constantinople, would side with her, just as all the Latin bishops stood by Rome. The Patriarchs of Alexandria and Jerusalem were almost negligible quantities. They sat under the Moslem with their little flocks; they, of course, violently hated the Copts and Jacobites who were better disposed to the Mohammedan Government, and as Melkites who had always stood out for the "Imperial" Church they turned their eyes with reverent piety to that distant Imperial city where reigned the Orthodox Cæsar and, in happy freedom, the Orthodox Patriarch, whom they had now long looked upon as their chief. So when Cerularius sent them round an order to strike the Pope's name off their diptychs,^[48] they quietly obeyed.

The position of the Patriarch of Antioch was just then more fortunate. In 968 the Roman armies had conquered back his city and so he was again free under a Christian Government, although most of his Patriarchate was gone. Both sides then try to win Peter of Antioch.^[49] There are very few people in this history for whom one feels so much sympathy as with this Peter. He had all the prejudices of his race. He cannot bear Latins; he thinks we are barbarous, ignorant, gross in our habits, not fit to be compared with the pure Christians and refined "Romans" who enjoy the blessings of the Imperial State and the Greek tongue. And yet he dreads schism more than anything else in the world and he hopelessly tries to make excuses for us to Cerularius, and implores him to be patient with our unpleasant ways, and at any rate, whatever happens, not to make a schism.

Only two years before the schism, in 1052, he had, as usual, sent to announce his election to Pope Leo IX. He had, as usual, acknowledged the Roman Primacy.^[50] Leo answered with a letter as courteous and friendly as any could be.^[51] He makes the most graceful parallel between the two Petrine Churches: "Your Apostolic See has addressed our Apostolic See." He remembers that "it was in the great Antioch that Christians were first named." Touching an old grievance, he says that "Antioch must keep the third place," and that "we have heard that certain people are trying to diminish the ancient dignity of the Antiochene Church." That means, of course, the ambition of Constantinople, by which Antioch would sink to the fourth place. Unfortunately, the Pope's letter got lost on the way, and afterwards Peter complains, somewhat sulkily, that the Pope had never answered him.^[52] When the quarrel began Leo made Dominic, Patriarch of Venice,^[53] write to Peter. This letter,^[54] too, is almost excessively moderate. Dominic is very polite to the "eminent Patriarch of the most high and holy Church of Antioch and great and Apostolic man." He, too, refers to the Petrine succession of the see "which we know to be the sister of our mother the Roman Church." He tells him all about Leo of Achrida's letter, and explains that, if the Latins prefer to use Azyme, they by no means intend to disparage the Eastern use of leaven. "Because we know that the sacred mixture of fermented bread is used and lawfully observed by the most holy and Orthodox Fathers of the Eastern Churches, we faithfully approve of both customs, and confirm both with a spiritual explanation." He thinks that leavened bread typifies the hypostatic union, and Azyme our Lord's purity. One cannot sufficiently admire the reasonableness and toleration of Rome at a time when Cerularius was calling us Jews, and our Holy Eucharist "mud."^[55] Dominic's last argument is pathetically meek: "If, then, our offering of Azyme bread is not the Body of Christ, we are all of us cut off from the source of life." Meanwhile, Peter of Antioch had also heard from Constantinople, and he now embarks on a hopeless career as a peacemaker. He answers Dominic quite kindly, although he will not let him be a patriarch, since there can only be five, and he himself is the only person who has a quite certain right to the title.^[56] He says that "the most holy Patriarch of Constantinople does not think you to be bad men, nor cut off from the Catholic Church … but he thinks your faith halting in this one point only, in the oblation of Azyme."^[57]

Cerularius, however, to make sure of Peter's support, now embarks on a career of lying. The first lie is that the Pope's name has not appeared on the Byzantine diptychs since the sixth general council (680), and (for he now imagines himself quite a Pope, with jurisdiction over the other patriarchs) he orders Peter to remove it from his diptychs at once, and to see that the same is done at Alexandria and Jerusalem.^[58] This brazen falsehood is at once refuted by Peter. In his answer^[59] he first quotes Cerularius's words, and goes on: "I am covered with shame that your venerable letter should contain such things. Believe me, I do not know how to explain it, for your own sake, especially if you have written like this to the other most blessed patriarchs."^[60] He then mentions all the Popes who, since 680, have been specially reverenced at Constantinople—Agatho most of all—and he says: "When I went to Constantinople forty-five years ago, I myself heard the Pope mentioned in the holy mysteries with the other patriarchs by the Lord Patriarch Sergius of holy memory."^[61]

But the unblushing Cerularius has many more lies to tell. He sends Peter this amazing account of what had happened in the affair of the Legates: the Legates had not been sent by the Pope at all, but by Argyros.^[62] Argyros, who was still freebooting about Italy and pretending to fight the Normans, and whom Cerularius for some reason always hated, seems to have been a general scapegoat. Then the Legates who came, fraudulently pretending to be sent by Rome, were themselves disreputable persons; one of them had once been Bishop of Amalphi, but had been turned out from that see for just causes, and had wandered about Italy for five years (this was pure fiction); another pretended to be an archbishop, but no one could find where his diocese was (Cardinal Humbert: his diocese was Silva Candida); the third was a sham chancellor. It is tedious to repeat the pages of falsehood he sends to Antioch, how the Legates had forged letters, broken open seals,^[63] and how they had excommunicated all the Easterns because they neither shave the beard, nor use Azyme nor say the Filioque.^[64] By this time Cerularius has found some more grievances against us besides the three chief ones (Azyme, Saturday fast, and celibacy). He bitterly complains of these customs, too: Latin clerks shave the beard, eat unclean food, their monks eat meat on Wednesday, they say the Filioque, and sing in Mass "One holy Lord Jesus Christ in the glory of God the Father through the Holy Ghost"; they have a kiss of peace in Mass, their bishops wear rings, do not venerate relics, despise the Eastern Fathers, will not pray to St. Gregory of Nazianzum, St. Basil, or St. John Chrysostom, and their bishops go to war.^[65] Of all this amazing list of nonsense, some statements are sheer falsehoods, as that Latins do not venerate relics nor pray to the Saints he names.^[66] In some cases one simply cannot, with the best will, make out what he means: why he objects to bishops' rings, shaving, or the verse at the end of our Gloria, unless on the general principle that the whole world must conform to Constantinople, down to the smallest trifles. One accusation (about our eating food Levitically unclean) is too ridiculous, as coming from the man who was always accusing us of Judaism. But in one point he has happened to hit on a real abuse—the 11th-century Latin bishop was too much disposed to go a-fighting. Peter, in his answer, agrees about the Filioque, but points out how absurd the other charges are.^[67] In the case of the verse in the Gloria he reminds Cerularius that the Eastern Liturgies contain almost exactly the same words.^[68] As for relics, the Romans have the very bodies of St. Peter and St. Paul, and "Adrian the Roman Pope presided at the Seventh Synod (against the Iconoclasts)." "And we have seen the Frank pilgrims in our venerable churches give every honour and reverence to sacred pictures."^[69] But, above all, Peter of Antioch dreads schism, and the pathetic words, with which he implores Cerularius not to make one, end their correspondence. He writes from no love of Latins. "They are our brothers," he says, "although their rusticity and stupidity often make them behave indecently. We must not expect from these barbarians the same perfect manners as we find among our civilized people."^[70] But he says: "I beg you, I implore you, and in spirit I embrace your sacred feet and entreat Your Divine Beatitude to give way and to accommodate itself to circumstances. For it is to be feared that you, in trying to heal these differences, may only make a schism, which is worse, and that in trying to lift them up you may cause a great calamity. Consider what would certainly happen if that great first and Apostolic See be divided from our holy Churches—wickedness would spread everywhere, and the whole world would be upset, the kingdoms of all the earth would be shaken, everywhere would be much woe, everywhere tears."^[71]

We have every reason to suppose that Peter never did go into schism; he had plainly refused to strike the Pope's name from his diptychs once, and we see how strongly he feels about the evil of breaking the communion of that great first and Apostolic See." He died the last Catholic Patriarch of Antioch of the old line; may he rest in peace. His attitude was typical of the older Eastern tradition with its utter ignorance of anything outside the Empire, even of the Latin language, its absurd idea that "Franks" were all miserable savages,^[72] its pathetic self-complacency, and yet its firm conviction that for no reason may Catholic unity be broken.

 

4. The End of Cerularius.

It would still remain a mystery why Cerularius should have been so absolutely determined to break with Rome at any cost, why he should have cared to heap up lies and attempt murder, apparently for no possible object but just the pleasure of being in schism, did not his future career give the clue to the whole scheme. He was by far the strongest and most popular man in Constantinople, and he wanted to be the recognized head of the Empire. At one time later he seems to have tried to join the rank of Emperor and Patriarch in his own person, and when that plan failed his idea was to set up a kind of theocracy, in which the State should be the humble vassal of the Church, and the head of the Church the acknowledged over-lord of the head of the State. It was the exact reverse of the Erastianism that, as a rule, flourished unchecked in the Eastern Empire, a sort of concrete case and actual practice of the Utopia of which Gregory VII and Boniface VIII dreamed. The breach with Rome was only a means, the first step in this plan. Cerularius could easily manage to be the head of the Eastern Patriarchs, but he knew it was hopeless to expect the Roman Pope to submit to him. So he had definitely to cut the tie between the Eastern and Western Churches—any excuse must serve, for no one could possibly really care about the ludicrous accusations he brought against us.^[73] Then, unquestioned master of a great homogeneous ecclesiastical body, he could and did proceed to fight for civil supremacy as well.^[74] Only here the fortune of war turned against him and he fell. He had already shown Constantine IX that he was the greater man of the two. Constantine after that was very careful not to annoy the Patriarch again. He died in 1055 and was succeeded by old Theodora, his wife's sister, the last descendant of Basil the Macedonian. Cerularius, says Psellos, "tried to rule over the Empress."^[75] When she died (1056) Michael VI (1056–1057) succeeded. But Michael wanted to reign independently of his over-lord, so Cerularius, who is the kingmaker of the Eastern Empire, again rouses the people, overturns Michael, goes himself to cut off his hair and make him a monk, and sets up Isaac Komnenos (1057–1059) in his place. At first Isaac, who knows quite well to whom he owes his place, is very docile. The year 1058 was the time of Cerularius's greatest power. The Emperor let him rule as he liked in the Church and the Palace; he appointed the officers of state and at last succeeded in being the only real sovereign of the Empire.^[76] "Losing all shame," said Psellos afterwards, "he joined royalty and priesthood in himself; in his hand he held the cross, while from his mouth imperial laws came."^[77] But gradually Isaac got tired of being the Patriarch's vassal and wanted to really reign. So once again Cerularius works up a revolution. His language to the Emperor lacked respect: "You beast," he said, "I made you and I will crush you."^[78] However he did not succeed this time. He seems to have meant to get himself actually crowned Emperor after this revolution.^[79] But Isaac was too quick for him. Before Cerularius had time to arrange his insurrection he was arrested and tried for high treason (1059). It was Psellos, his old friend and future panegyrist, who was the advocate for the crown, and the comparison of his indictment with the funeral oration he pronounced when Cerularius was dead and had to be glorified is an interesting example of Byzantine honesty. Now everything had to be made as black as possible, and so besides the accusation of treason, which was a true bill, Psellos heaps up every kind of absurd charge. Cerularius was guilty of Hellenism^[80] and Chaldaism—that is, heathen witchcraft; he had invoked "material ghosts." (It is true that when he had given up the philosopher's stone he had developed a polite taste for spiritualist seances.) Also his language was so vulgar that he made people blush; in short he was "impious, tyrannical, murderous, sacrilegious, and unworthy." But Cerularius did not live to suffer the capital punishment that probably awaited him. While he was being taken, strongly guarded, to Madytos^[81] he died (1059). At once, then, his apotheosis begins.^[82] Now that he is no longer dangerous to any one the Emperor affects much regret for all that had happened. His body is brought with great pomp to Constantinople, and is buried in the monastery of the Holy Angels. And gradually the people forget everything evil that he did and transform him into a saint. A yearly panegyric is instituted in his memory, and the same Psellos who had brought the charges against him, preaching before the Emperor, describes his former victim as the wisest, holiest, most persecuted of men.^[83] Cerularius had not succeeded in his plan of setting himself up as the head of a great theocracy; but he had done a far greater work and one that still lasts, he had definitely established the schismatical Eastern Church.

At the end of all this story of the schism one remark needs to be made. The sometimes almost incredible facts are not in dispute. Cornelius Will's Acta et Scripta are a collection of contemporary letters and reports, from which each step of the story is made plain, and from which, as a matter of fact, all this account has been written. And people who have studied the matter know it all. Philip Meyer's article on "Cerularius" in the great German Protestant Encyclopædia of Theology,^[84] for instance, says of the quarrel between the Churches: "This time it was Michael who arbitrarily took it up again, just at a time when the Court of Byzantium and the Pope had enough reason for an alliance in the Norman war." … "Michael violently suppressed the Latin rite, that was used in many monasteries and churches over there, and in 1053 sent, in a letter to the Bishop of Trani in Apulia, a regular declaration of war against the Roman Church." When the Legates came "Michael himself rejected their advances. Then the Legates took the last step, and on July 16, 1054, laid an elaborate bull of excommunication on the altar of the Sophia Church, which, with prudent respect for the Court, heaped up curses, abuse, and heretical names against the Patriarch, his followers, and the practices of his Church." Afterwards Cerularius "was dishonest enough to represent the whole Embassy as having not been sent by the Pope." "As far as hatred and passion goes, both sides may have been about equal; but in chivalrous pride and judgement the representatives of the Roman Church were superior to their adversary." "As the defender of Greek Orthodoxy, Michael, however, was remembered by his Church with great honour, although without much desert, as far as his mind and character are concerned." So far a scholar who, in spite of his prejudice against Rome, at any rate knows his subject. But the small text-books of history, the handbooks and compendia that go about in England, have nothing to say about the whole quarrel except, perhaps, that Photius refused to acknowledge the Pope's assumed primacy, and that the Eastern Church under Cerularius finally threw off the yoke of Rome. All that Mr. Hutton (as one instance out of many) in a little book on Constantinople^[85] has to say is: "Two great names embody in the East the final protest against Roman assumption." "Photius … owed his throne to an election which was not canonical." "The papal claim to decide between two claimants to the patriarchate was fiercely resented" (! both had formally appealed to Rome). "The position which Photius defended with skill and vigour in the 9th century was reasserted by Michael Cerularius in the 11th. He regarded the teaching of the West on the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, says Psellus, as an intolerable heresy; and he was prompt to reassert jurisdiction over the Churches of Apulia, now conquered by the Normans and made subject to Rome. The final breach came from Rome itself. On July 16, 1054, two Legates of the Pope laid on the altar of S. Sophia the act of excommunication which severed the Patriarch from the communion of the West, and condemned what were asserted to be seven deadly heresies of the Eastern Church." It is hardly necessary to point out all the inaccuracies of this account. The Normans did not conquer Apulia till Roger II (1105–1154); it had always been ecclesiastically subject to Rome. Cerularius's grievance was not the Filioque but Azyme bread. The final breach came from Constantinople. There were three Legates; they did not accuse the Eastern Church of any heresies.

It is because such travesties are all that people seem to have generally heard about the greatest calamity that ever befel Christendom, and especially because of the unfailing assumption that Rome must have been the aggressor, that these two chapters contain so much detail about a story that is itself neither very interesting nor at all edifying.

 

Summary.

The story of the final schism in the 11th century is a much worse case of Byzantine arrogance and intolerance than the story of Photius. In 1053 Michael Cerularius suddenly, for no reason whatever except apparently for some private scheme of ambition, declares war against Rome and the Latin West. He makes one of his metropolitans—Leo of Achrida—send an offensive letter to a Latin bishop; himself publishes over the East a treatise against Latins, and shuts all the Latin churches in his patriarchate. The Emperor, Constantine IX, wants peace. The Pope, St. Leo IX, sends three Legates to Constantinople; but Cerularius will have nothing to do with them, and has already struck the Pope's name off his diptychs. At last, in 1054, the Legates lay a bull of excommunication against (not the Byzantine Church but) Cerularius and his adherents on the altar of the Hagia Sophia. Cerularius orders all the other Eastern patriarchs to remove the Pope's name from their diptychs, and grossly misrepresents what has happened. But the Patriarch of Antioch, for one, still tries to make peace. After the schism, Cerularius, by far the strongest man at Constantinople, becomes a sort of kingmaker, till at last he falls and dies, just as he has been condemned for treason. After his death he becomes a quite mythical hero.

 

1. Ep. ad Michaelem et alios, Will, Acta et Scripta, p. 72.
2. Leo the Isaurian (Leo III, 717–741) had already pretended to join the provinces of Calabria, Apulia, and Sicily to the Byzantine Patriarchate, see p. 46.
3. Argyros was a Lombard adventurer, who had at first been on the Norman side. Then he went to Constantinople for five years (1046–1051), and came back, having changed his coat, as a Roman patrician, Duke of Italy, and commander-in-chief of the Emperor's forces. Cf. Gibbon, chap. lvi. (ed J. Bury, Methuen, 1898), vol. vi. p. 180, seq.
4. Only two marriages were allowed.
5. He could imitate a goat bleating so perfectly that every one would hunt the room to find the quadruped (Psellos, i. p. 170). Plainly, the only place worthy of so varied talents was the Roman throne.
6. L. Bréhier, Le Schisme Oriental, p. 56.
7. ὁμωφόριος καὶ ὁμοδίαιτος. Bréhier, o.c. p. 61.
8. Brehier, o.c. p. 63.
9. Michael Psellos: Funeral Oration of Cerularius, ed. by. C. Sathas (Bib. med. ævi, vol. iv. p. 326). Krumbacher: Byz. Litt. pp. 433–444.
10. See last note.
11. Psellos's History has now been published as one of Methuen's Byzantine Texts. It is edited, with an Index Græcitatis, by Professor C. Sathas (1898), and forms as good an introduction to Byzantine Greek and as entertaining a history as could be found.
12. Psellos, quoted by Bréhier, o.c. pp. 76–77.
13. Bréhier, o.c. p. 72.
14. It was the Metropolitan See of Bulgaria p. 152.
15. The letter is the first document published by Will, o.c., the Greek text pp. 56-60; Card. Humbert's Latin version, pp. 61–64.
16. De Synodo, xi. 5, n. 5.
17. De Corp. and Sang. Dñi (M.P.L. cl. p. 409): "All who know him personally say that he is very learned in the knowledge of both divine and profane letters."
18. Silva Candida was one of the suburban sees of Rome. Calixtus III joined it to the see of the Portus Tiberis in 1138. Humbert was Bishop of Silva Candida from 1057–1063. Gams: Series episcoporum eccl. cath. (Regensburg, 1873), ix.
19. There is no question but that Leo of Achrida sent his letter under orders from the Patriarch.
20. The text in Will, o.c. pp. 127–136. Krumbacher: Byz. Litt. pp. 154–155.
21. This is a very happy text for his purpose; only his own Church forbids monks' and bishops' marriages, and on the whole abstains from many more foods that God has made than we ever did.
22. Will, pp. 164–165.
23. The text in Will, pp. 65–85.
24. The quotation at p. 174 is from this letter.
25. A document purporting to be drawn up by Constantine giving Pope Sylvester the Lateran Palace and civil authority over Rome, Italy, and all the West. It is really a forgery of the 8th century.
26. Will, o.c. p. 174.
27. Ibid. p. 91.
28. Ibid. pp. 89–92.
29. Ibid. pp. 85–89.
30. He afterwards became Pope himself—Stephen IX, 1057–1058.
31. That is, the last ecclesiastical embassy. There were civil negotiations after the schism.
32. Will, o.c. p. 177. Legates always bear their crosiers wherever they go as Legates. They are for the time delegated with a share in their master's universal jurisdiction.
33. Ibid.
34. Ibid. o.c. pp. 93–126. There are one or two sharp expressions.
35. Ibid. o.c. pp. 136–150.
36. Will, o.c. p. 151. Humbert's "Short account of the things done by the Legates of the Holy Apostolic Roman See in the imperial city."
37. Ibid.
38. Ibid. o.c. p. 178.
39. Ibid. o.c.: the text of the bull, pp. 153–154.
40. The offences of (not the Eastern Church but) Michael and his party are said to be that they commit simony, make eunuchs, rebaptize Latins, deny all true Church or sacrifice or baptism outside their own Greek body, allow priests' marriage, curse the old law of Moses, deny that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Son, say that all leavened matter has a soul, will not baptize babies who die a week after they are born, will not receive into communion shaven clerks. These offences are not said to be all heretical. One accusation (priests' marriage) is only a rather unworthy reprisal. But the Legates make it quite clear that the real reason for their bull is Cerularius's open schism.
41. Bréhier's date (July 15th) is wrong (p. 117). Card. Humbert says: "XVII Kal. Augusti adierunt ecclesiam sanctæ Sophiæ … iam hora tertia diei sabbati." Will, pp. 151–152.
42. Will, l.c.
43. Will, o.c. p. 152.
44. Will, o.c. p. 152.
45. Ibid. p. 166.
46. Ibid.
47. Ibid. pp. 155–168. See also Bréhier, o.c. pp. 120–125, who is convinced that Cerularius meant to have the Legates killed.
48. Will, o.c. p. 178.
49. Peter III of Antioch began his reign in 1052. The date of his death is unknown. Lequien: Oriens. Christ. ii. 754
50. Will, o.c. p. 169. Leo's answer says: "We see that you do not wander from the decree of all the holy Feathers, according to whom the holy Roman Apostolic Church is the head of all Churches throughout the world, and that to her the greater and more difficult causes of all Churches must be referred." Peter's letter is no longer extant.
51. Will, o.c. pp. 168–171.
52. Will, o.c. p. 228.
53. His official title was "Patriarch of Gradus and Aquileia." These were merged into Venice, and already then he was commonly called Patriarch of Venice. Aquileia was not formally abolished till 1751, by Benedict XIV.
54. Will, o.c. pp. 205–208.
55. This was his favourite amenity—"dry mud" (Will, p. 105).
56. Will, o.c. pp. 208–228. This is the letter quoted above, p. 46, note 2.
57. This shows how completely the question of the Filioque had retired to the background just then.
58. Will, o.c. p. 178.
59. Ibid. pp. 189, seq.
60. P. 190.
61. P. 193.
62. P. 175.
63. Pp. 175–177.
64. Will, o.c. p. 186. The Roman Church has never asked the Easterns to do any of these things.
65. Ibid. pp. 180–183.
66. In the Latin Church St. Gregory Nazianzum has his feast on May 9th, St. Basil on June 14th, St. John Chrysostom on January 27th. All three are honoured as Doctors of the Church.
67. Will, o.c. pp. 193–197.
68. P. 198.
69. P. 202.
70. Will, o.c. p. 198, Peter, by the way, could not read a word of Latin. He had to send the Pope's letter to Constantinople to have it translated. He could not find any one at Antioch who could do so (p. 204). See above, p. 89.
71. Will, o.c. pp. 202–203.
72. The idea is quite simple: the people whom Julius Cæsar had fought were savages. Atqui the "Romans" in the East represent Cæsar and his Romans; Franks in the West are the descendants of the savages. Ergo. The ignorance of Latin seems rather strange, but perhaps Peter thought that Julius had talked Byzantine Greek. His Roman Emperor did.
73. One wonders, however, why he did not stick to the Filioque grievance and make the most of that. It would have made a far better case than the nonsense he thought of. However he was certainly no theologian, and probably did not realize this. He was never anything like so clever a man as Photius.
74. This is Bréhier's view, o.c. pp. 209–215: Les causes politiques du schisme.
75. Fun. Oration of Cerularius, ed. Sathas, p. 357.
76. He now began to wear purple shoes, one of the official privileges of the Emperor: Bréhier, l.c.
77. Quoted by Bréhier, o.c. p. 275.
78. Ἐῶ σε ἔκτισα, φοῦρνε, ἐῶ ἴνα σε χαλάσω (Bréhier, p. 279). A beautiful example of vulgar 11th-century Greek. Ἐῶ is, of course, ἐγώ. φοῦρνος is a baker's oven. Notice ἴνα with the subj. already = future. I do not know why he called Isaac a baker's oven. Bréhier translates it "brute."
79. See Bréhier, p. 281.
80. Hellenism still means heathenism. These Greeks, of course, all called themselves Romans—Ρωμαῖοι—that is citizens of the Roman Empire.
81. In the Chersonesos on the Hellespont. There was a shipwreck on the way, and though he got ashore he died from its effects.
82. As soon as he was dead he appeared to the Bishop of Madytos radiant in his patriarchal vestments, only (being a ghost) he had to flee away at daybreak (Fun. Oration, p. 374).
83. This is the funeral oration already quoted.
84. Realenzyklopädie für protestantische Theologie und Kirche (Herzog u. Hauck), Leipzig, vol, iii. (1897), pp. 620–621.
85. In Dent's "Mediæval Towns" series (1900), pp. 86–87.