THE IRON MASK.

But the other question, and a very practical one, yet remains: How shall we procure and hold proper singers for such music as is proposed, and for such a place as the sacred inclosure about the altar? We answer, in the first place, we have already some men singers with voices of good compass and power, who at present sing up-stairs beside the organ.

"What!" exclaims the friend at our elbow; "bring our present choir down into the sanctuary? How many priests, do you think, would do that?"

We reply to him, that, if the present choir-singers are fit and proper persons to be associated with the sacred ministers in the celebration of the divine mysteries, they are just as worthy at one end of the church as at the other; and if they are unworthy for any reason, they ought not to be allowed to take that part, or exercise that office of dignity in any nook or corner of our sacred temples. This capital point, the personal worthiness as well as the vocal capabilities of our choir-singers, has, it must be confessed, not been so rigidly insisted on in general as it might have been. Nothing appears to our minds more shockingly incongruous than a mixed chorus of Catholics, Protestants, and Jews singing the Credo. We remember hearing a fine Tantum Ergo sung as a solo at benediction by a Jewess. Think of it, a Jewess singing,

"Et antiquum documentumNovo cedat ritui"!

and, in the presence of what she believedto be only a piece of bread, adding,

"Præstet fides supplementumSensuum defectui"!

We like the language of the Bishop of Langres. In a late pastoral on this subject, he says,

"The function of which we speak (singer) is one that deserves respect for its sanctity. For many centuries it was reserved to clerics; and when, afterward, laymen were admitted to assist, it was required that they should, from their good conduct, be worthy to represent the congregation of God's people, and take the lead in this part of their worship; and, above all, it was required that they should understand the dignity of the trust committed to them, and should neglect no preparation necessary to acquit themselves respectably. These laymen hold in the Lord's house the first place after its consecrated ministers; and they should not be allowed to continue in it unless they showed themselves the zealous auxiliaries of the priest who takes the lead in the name of the Church."

If we adhered to the character of the music desired by the Church, we should never be obliged to look elsewhere than to Catholics—to those who will sing from the heart as well as with the lips—for worthy auxiliaries of the priest in this devout and sacred office.

This leads us to consider the selection and the training of competent and worthy singers. We are aware that the destruction of the Protestant singing-gallery, the restoration of the choir, and adoption of the Gregorian music is not so simple a matter of choice with the pastors of churches that it can be effected at once by an order issued to the organist, and the provision of cassocks and surplices for as many men as can be paid to wear them and sing the music which befits such clerically-habited chanters. Such singers as we ought to have for our holy offices are not to be had to-morrow, even for money. Nor, even supposing such worthy persons, possessing proper vocal acquirements, were to be had by paying for them, would they be able to sing our sacred music in a style that would be even tolerable. Gregorian chant is not easy of execution, as some imagine. It needs not only good vocal culture to render its musical phrases with precision, but also no small amount of intellectual and moral training to give its true expression.

We say, good vocal culture. By which we must not be understood to mean that finished vocalization which distinguishes the professional opera-singer, or those few amateurs whose voices of natural sweetness and power have received first-class cultivation. All Gregorian music is included within an octave and a half, with rare exceptions. Great compass is therefore not required. The first requisite is the ability to modulate the different phrases with distinctness and facility. There are few men or boys who could not be taught in a short time to acquire this primary qualification of the choir-singer. On this head there is little or no difficulty. But as every one who can read English is not able to give a properreadingof Shakespeare, so not every one who can sing the gamut or its intervals is able to sing the phrases of Gregorian chant. The reader of Shakespeare needs practice in tone, in inflection, in the art of speaking with sublimity, with pathos, with joy, etc. Then he must study the works of the great poet, must master his style, and with much painstaking and oft-repeated rehearsals learn to imitate the various characters, their mode of behavior, and peculiarity of utterance. The holy melodies of the Church possess an admirable variety of religious expression, and share with all her rites and ceremonies in that sacred dramatic form which clothes them with such remarkable spiritual power and beauty.It is plain, therefore, that the singer must not only understand what he is singing, but must make a study of the different phrases, in order to discover their true expression.

But besides all this intellectual attention to and appreciation of the chant, the slightest reflection will show one that a certain degree of moral training is equally requisite. The capital point always to be kept in mind is that the music of the Church is her divine prayer. The devout soul, though endowed with a voice of only medium capacity, will render these prayerful melodies with far greater effect than a first-class artist who sings only from the lips, while his heart remains unmoved by the words and the song. We are all conscious of the different effect produced upon us by the chanting of thePrefaceand thePaterby different priests. As a few simple words preached to us by a priest of an interior and devout life will go deeper into our souls, and bring forth greater spiritual fruit, than the most brilliant oratory from one of less religious mind, so a devout singer will give to his song a nameless charm, and edify those who listen to him far more than one who is his superior in musical attainments, but inferior to him in piety. It is Father Lallemant, we think, who said, "An interior man will make more impression on hearts by a single word animated by the Spirit of God, than another by a whole discourse which has cost him much labor, and in which he has exhausted all his powers of reasoning."

Our argument, therefore, for the restoration of the church music, and the banishment of concert music, implies the restoration, as well, of the church singer, and the close of our engagement with the concert artists, or the more wretched substitute of concert amateurs. We are sure that in every congregation in this country it would be possible to find a sufficient number of men and boys, possessing all the necessary qualifications, intellectual, moral, and vocal, for the decent and edifying singing of the church offices, who might be prepared after a few weeks' instruction for the duties of the chorister. We may be permitted to add, that our opinion is not mere theory, but based upon the observation and experience of many years in the practical duties of the ministry, during which the direction of the music has generally fallen to our care. If we are not able to refer our readers to a practical illustration of what we assert, it is simply because we also, as we said before, have been straitened and hampered by this incubus of Protestant tradition. Until we can get rid of this, we can do nothing. Until the people, at present profoundly ignorant on this head, learn what constitutes a Catholic choir and where it ought to be located in the church, we shall never be able to get any thing but concert music. They must learn that the present order of things prevalent among us is abnormal, unrecognized by the ritual, and quite as foreign to the Catholic standard as would be the preaching of a priest from the pulpit in a citizen's dress. We may be obedient to the strict law of the Church which forbids female singers in choir, and find a sufficient number of men and boys to take their places, who will scramble into the organ-gallery, and, under cover of the curtains, talk, laugh, chew tobacco, eat candy, draw caricatures on the walls and on the covers of the singing-books, and sit with crossed legs and chairs tilted backward even during the elevation and benediction—all this we will get as of old; but, until thegallerycomes down, until the singers are properly vested, and marched with proper ecclesiasticaldecorum into the sanctuary, or to such a place as near to it as the present inconvenient arrangement of our modern churches will permit, we shall never get achurch choir.

This is our first point: let us have male singers who will understand from the dress and deportment they assume, for the time being, as well as from the position they occupy in the church, that their office as a church singer is a sacred one, of high character, and worthy of special respect as being associated officially with the priestly celebrations at the altar. No sooner shall we have succeeded in teaching the people this true Catholic tradition, than our youth will at once look upon the function of choir-singer as an enviable position, and the effort to make themselves worthy to be thus associated with the clergy in the divine offices will necessarily do much toward elevating their moral tone, and inspiring a devout Catholic spirit. We shall, very probably, not obtain all we desire at a first trial. Many of those whom we may select will likely disappoint us. This is in the nature of things. It is not every one who is selected as a student for the priesthood that proves to have a vocation. For ourselves, we apprehend little difficulty if our own purpose be well determined, and we give to the whole subject of church music a little serious study and reflection.

As to the source from which our churches are to obtain a regular supply of choristers, we frankly speak our mind, and say that the Catholic choir system would appear to involve necessarily the formation of what is known in France as themaitrise, or choir-school, in which are admitted boys of good moral character possessing sufficient vocal capability, and of a grade of intelligence to render it worth while to bestow upon them a more refined education than they might obtain in the ordinary school. This special education given in the choir-school tends not only to improve and elevate the character of the boys, but fits them as well to attain a better position in life than they could have hoped for without it. But this is a subject we can afford to defer to future consideration.

Supposing that we have come to the determination to conform our church music at once to the true standard, how shall we procure the necessary choristers? Let us see what we need. For large churches, or what are large churches to us, there should be at least four trained voices of men—two tenors and two baritones; and not less than twelve boys. These, equally divided on either side of the sanctuary, would make a better double chorus than might at first be supposed. The boys can be had for the asking; but the four men will not easily be obtained without a reasonable salary. The advertisement for them should, of course, conclude with the warning, "None but practical Catholics need apply." We do not propose to put the cassock and surplice upon persons whose very appearance in that garb would disedify the people.

For this choir we need a competent teacher. Advertise for him, and it is not unlikely we shall find such a one, or one who will quickly fit himself for that office, in one of the four hired singers. We do not hesitate to say that, even in this great city of New York, there are at present very few music teachers who are fully competent to teach the proper method of chanting the Vesper psalms alone, not to speak of those other important portions of the divine offices whose expression is more difficult to render. But there is no want that is not quickly met with the supply. If we want such a teacher, and are willingto pay him, then the subject of the church chant will at once engage the attention and study of professors of music whose business it is to teach. At this moment it is generally understood (and not without reason) by all organists and directors of choirs that our Catholic churches need performers and teachers who can come recommended as well versed in "the masses," as they are called.

As a consequence, these gentlemen devote all their energies to the study and practice of such compositions, and to the science of directing a mixed chorus. We do the musical profession the justice of believing its taste to be quite at variance with the taste of the public it serves; and, although we are prepared to see our choir-director shrug his shoulders and return us a wondering look when we propose our reformation to him, still, when we shall have given him to understand that we ourselves know what we want, and are prepared to count the cost, we feel assured that he will readily come into our views, and enter upon this new field of musical culture with more zest than he has hitherto shown in the conduct of music, for the most part, despicable even in his own eyes. We will engage him to produce church music in first-class church style. We will aid him by causing an organ of sufficient size to be erected near the choristers in the vicinity of the sanctuary. Should he crave for a larger chorus, we will seek out a number of young men, from eighteen to twenty-five years of age, whom we have in our eye, whose interest will not fail of being excited in this subject to which we give our pastoral solicitude, and whose social and moral character we feel assured will be benefited by being associated with our regular choir as volunteers. If we might be permitted the use of an expressive vulgarism, we would say that our young men, as a class, are "spoiling" for some church work. How many would not feel both honored and gratified by an invitation to labor with us in renovating and restoring the grand offices of the Church to their pristine order and sublime harmony! We manage to associate together a few of our young men in various confraternities and associations, and drive a few more into the ranks of the society of St. Vincent de Paul; but the greater number, upon whom depend the futureespritof our church in this country, and upon whose attachment to all that concerns the dignity and devout character of our religious services hang the fortunes of our faith, are left unnoticed and unemployed. We propose this subject of the reformation of church music to them as a labor of love and true Catholic devotion, worthy of their hearty coöperation, and tending to their own intellectual refinement and moral elevation. We are not wholly unacquainted with the souls of this class of our brethren in the faith, and will answer for the response that will be made to our sentiments by any Catholic young man whose eye may chance to fall on these lines.

Now as to the matter of proper church music-books. Speaking as one who has been made wise through suffering, we rejoice at the prospect of seeing all our "Catholic choir-books," "Morning and Evening services," and such trash, bundled up and sent to the paper-makers. We are at liberty to state that, while the present Œcumenical Council may allude only incidentally to the subject of church music, by confirming the ancient canons made in regard to it, the Congregation of Rites is already preparing an authorized version of the Roman Gradual and Vesperal, and that his Holiness will issue a brief inwhich he will strongly exhort all the bishops to adopt it. As soon as this desire of the head of the Church shall have been brought home to us in the proper way, those whose hands are waiting direction will lose no time in preparing an edition of this work in musical notation, and harmonized for the use of organists, an imperative need for the great majority of our players and singers, to whom the learning of the plain chant scale and clefs would be a labor equal to that of acquiring the knowledge of a foreign language. Our choir-boys, and the generation of choristers who shall succeed them, can be taught the plain chant notation from the first, and will find it much simpler, and more expressive in typography, than the modern musical scale, with its varied keys in flats and sharps.

A word as to the comparative cost of the authorized church music and the concert music which now replaces it. It will be seen that we have advised the engagement of four professional singers, and the services of a special teacher both for them and the chorus of boys. This teacher, in most cases, would be one of the four salaried choristers or the organist. It will be seen at once, by those interested, that even in the beginning we shall not be put to any greater expense than we are already at for our music. In the matter of music-books there will be an immense saving for those churches which possess a large chorus. We ourselves own a musical library which has cost us several thousands of dollars; and to tell the honest truth, not one half of it is of the least practical use even with the present liberty we enjoy (?) of singing what we please. A set of Graduals and Vesperals, with a suitably harmonized version for the use of the organist, will suffice under our new and betterrégime.

We cannot close this portion of our remarks without calling attention to the great boon which this wholesome musical reform will prove to country churches. In our large cities, we have been able to perform in our churches music which is a tolerable imitation of the same style of harmony as given at the opera and on the boards of the concert-hall to paying audiences. As a rule, we have not charged any price of admission to our ecclesiastical concert offices, and our second-rate performances have therefore been justly treated with great leniency by the critics. But as you leave the city and enter churches in our small towns and country villages, you hear an imitation of the city fashion which is no longer tolerable. One must have advanced far into the spiritual ways of devout contemplation to endure the horrible cacophony without suffering indescribable tortures of soul. Then again, there are numberless village churches where never a sound of music, profane or religious, is heard. Yet, if these muse-abandoned people were disabused of their ignorant belief that our popular florid music is the only music possible or fit for the Catholic Church, and learned that, even if too poor to purchase an organ, they could have with a little study and practice all the music for the divine offices executed in a devout and decent style, it would not be long until the invariable low Mass on all Sundays and festivals, and the recitation of the Rosary in lieu of Vespers, would be a rare exception, instead of being, as it is now, not far from the rule. As an example, we confess extraordinary, of the gross ignorance of our country people concerning church music, we remember being told by a Catholic woman who had never been out of her own little village, that one reason why she was certain of the falsehoodof the Protestant religion was becausethey had music and singing in their churches!

We do not expect to see our suggestions or opinions accepted without question or criticism. We are fully aware that we have been arguing in the face of inexperience and deep-seated prejudice. We console ourselves, however, with the thought that what we have decried as abnormal, irregular, and inadequate for the music of the Church, is in itself so inconsistent, incomplete, and disordered, that it does not deserve even the name of a system. Based upon a false principle, the amusement of an audience, it will ever fail of recognition or encouragement at the hands of the holy Church, whose sole object proposed in all her divine functions isprayer. The faithful come to church to pray. A church ought by its very form and interior dispositions surround the worshippers with an atmosphere of prayer. It ought to feel like a holy place; and nothing about it should smack of the theatre, or the halls of assembly for secular purposes. All that is presented to the gaze of the faithful in these sanctuaries of God, whether it be the ceremonies associated with the Holy Sacrifice and other offices, or the statues, pictures, and decorations which meet the eye, ought to be of such a character as to excite the spirit of prayer. All this we understand full well. Why, then, are we so dull of hearing that we cannot also distinguish the accents of prayer from the sounds which speak of war, of love, of the dance, of jocularity, and, for those who have ears to hear, of the grossest sensuality? Let us disabuse ourselves of the notion that our people wish to hear what is popularly styled "fine music" in church. It is a very great mistake. They not only frequent the church services in the special intention to pass the time there in prayer, but also heartily desire to have their weary, world-tossed souls helped by decorously performed ceremonies, by good, earnest preaching, and by devout, prayerful music, in awakening in their hearts true religious emotion and thoughts of heavenly things.

This is our sole plea for reform in our music, it being, without doubt, also the "mind" of the Church. She is in no sense opposed to secular music, any more than she is to secular painting, sculpture, and architecture, unless they be debased and made to minister to base passions. She who sanctifies all that is true and noble in human nature is far from discouraging or condemning the legitimate expression of those arts which can exert so much power in the instruction, elevation, and refinement of the intellect and heart. But none so wise as she to detect their weakness, and warn society against the moral evils which result from their prostitution to the service of the devil. One of the destructive faults justly charged against modern art, and notably of music, is its misapplication. A want of harmony in the relation of an art to the nature and object of the thing to be expressed or illustrated by it, is the signal for its own enervation and the corruption of what it should purify and strengthen; which is the teaching alike of philosophy and experience.

"A tale out of time," says the wise man, "is like music in mourning;" and the converse of the proverb, is equally true—

"The sweetest strains of musicDo but jar upon the soul, and setThe very teeth on edge, if but the heartHath not a mind to hear it."

Whence our conclusion. In the house of God, whose "house shall be called the house of prayer," no other song must be heard but the song of prayer, that melody consecrated to allthat we have that is highest and holiest, which lifts the soul above the frivolities and sensualities of this world and of time, and transports it in spirit into the regions of the heavenly, and before the throne of the majesty of the Eternal.

This subject, so inexhaustible, so interesting on account of the unfathomable mystery that surrounds it, has again been brought to our notice by some recent discoveries. Whether they amount to any thing or not, remains to be seen; but they are at least singular, and may stimulate the curiosity of the erudite, and even that of simple amateurs.

A young writer, M. Maurice Topin, so says a contemporary French paper, who has obtained a prize of six hundred dollars from the French Academy for his beautiful book, entitled,L'Europe et les Bourbons sous Louis XIV., has been diving into old papers among the public archives, and says he has at last found out the true name of the unfortunate prisoner of the Iron Mask.

Following the advice of his uncle, M. Mignet, he has addressed a letter to the President of the Academy of Moral and Political Science, in which he incloses his secret—sealed, however—and says it must not be unsealed without his order.

So some day soon, perhaps, we shall solve the enigma that has perplexed the world for over two centuries.

A monk has lately died, too, somewhere in a French monastery, leaving papers testifying that he was the true Iron Mask. Some say he was deranged. Perhaps so; and perhaps we would rather such might have been the case. A realbona fide, two-hundred-year-old mystery must not succumb to this practical age of would-be common sense. We could never find such another, so we must content ourselves with reviving old facts and eliciting further researches.

He who was called, under the reign of Louis XIV.,The Man with the Iron Mask, was not permitted to wear so pretty a covering as that which preserved the complexion of the Empress Poppée; and the painters who have represented him with a sort of lowered visor, a rampart of iron on his face, have made a great mistake.

The unknown prisoner, to whom nobody approached, and nobody spoke, wore a mask of velvet.

The question is not decided upon what he wore on his way from the Isle Ste. Marguerite to the Bastille. Some say his chin was inclosed in a network of steel, to permit him to eat, while the upper part of his face was concealed in the mask of iron.

But this is a mystery, and his early training no less so.

He had been incarcerated a long time at Pignerol, the château of which had served for a prison of state, and since 1632 had belonged to France. The inhabitants still show a large dismantled tower that overlooks the town, and give the tradition concerningthe Iron Mask and Fouquet, who were here confined.

They showed the chamber in 1818 that these poor victims inhabited.

After the taking of the Bastille, indications of the Iron Mask were sought for among the registers of this place of detention; but the largest book of records was sadly torn, and the folio numbered one hundred and twenty, coinciding with the year 1698, the epoch of the incarceration of the prisoner, had been taken away.

Later, a leaf was discovered among the papers of a former governor, and here it is, as historians have given it to us:

Names and qualities of prisoners.Date of their entrance.Book. Page.Motive of their detention.Former prisoner of Pignerol, obliged to wear a velvet mask; his name or quality never known.18th of September, 1698, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon.Du Junca, vol. 37Never known.

The date of the entrance of the Iron Mask into the Bastille is preserved at present in the library of the arsenal; and we read:

"Thursday, the 18th of September, 1698, at three o'clock in the afternoon, Monsieur de St. Mars, governor of the Bastille, arrived for the first time from the Isles of Ste. Marguerite and Honorat, bringing with him, in his own litter, an old prisoner he had guarded at Pignerol. His name was not given; he wore a velvet mask; and was first placed in the tower of the Bayimère to await the night, when I was to conduct him myself, at nine P.M., into the tower of the Bertandière, to the third-story room which, by order of M. St. Mars, I had completely furnished for his reception. In conducting him to the said room, I was accompanied by M. Rosarges, who was to serve and guard the prisoner at the government expense."

Here let me state that Du Junca was not a surname given to the prisoner, but the name of the lieutenant of the king at the Bastille. The prisoner was called Marchiali.

The young historian who pretends to have discovered the true name of the Iron Mask has, without doubt, studied all the evidences up to the time of Voltaire, who also knew more than he was willing to impart.

He knew the story of the silver plate connected with the Isle Ste. Marguerite, whose governor was charged by Louis XIV. in person not to permit the prisoner to communicate with any one.

St. Mars waited on him himself, and took the dishes from the cooks at the door of the apartment, so that no one ever saw the face of the captive.

One day the Iron Mask threw a silver plate out of the window into the water-course beneath. A fisherman picked it up and brought it back to the governor.

"Have you read what is written on the bottom of this silver plate?" asked the governor.

"No, sir," replied the fisherman; "I cannot read."

This reply saved the poor man, who doubtless would have paid with his liberty, and even his life, for the possession of the terrible secret, if he had been sufficiently educated to have discovered it.

Another historian, the Abbé Papon, does not believe that the governor said to the fisherman, "Go; you are happy in not being able to read!" He states that, instead of a silver plate, the mysterious prisoner used a white shirt, covered from one end to the other with the written history of his life.

"I had," said he, "the curiosity to enter the chamber of the unfortunate man. It was lighted only by a window to the north, inclosed in a thick wall and cased by three gratings of iron placed at equal distances. This window overlooked the sea. I found in the citadel an officer of the French company, about sixty-nine years old. He told me that his father had often told him in secret that a watchman one day perceived under the window of the prisoner something white floating on the water.... It was a very fine shirt, plaited with negligence, and upon which the prisoner had written from one end to the other."The watchman took means to recover it, and carried it to M. de St. Mars, the governor of the Isle Ste. Marguerite."He protested that he had read nothing; but two days afterward he was found dead in his bed."

"The watchman took means to recover it, and carried it to M. de St. Mars, the governor of the Isle Ste. Marguerite.

"He protested that he had read nothing; but two days afterward he was found dead in his bed."

It is said that the Regent of Orleans left the secret of the name of the Iron Mask with his daughter. We give what he related to her, this authority being a pretended governor of the interesting captive. His account may be found in the archives of the English government:

"The unfortunate prince that I raised and guarded," said he, "until the end of my days, was born the 6th of September, 1638, at eight o'clock in the evening, during the supper of the king, Louis XIII. His brother, now reigning, Louis XIV., had been born in the morning at twelve o'clock, during the dinner hour of his father; but as the birth of the first child was splendid and brilliant, that of his brother was most sad and carefully concealed; for the king, advised by the midwife that the queen would bring forth a second child, caused to remain in her chamber the chancellor of France, the midwife, the first almoner, the confessor of the queen, and myself, to be witnesses of what might happen, and of what he would do, if this child should be born alive."

Actors have for many years studied carefully the costume ofThe Man with the Iron Maskand he who played in the drama by this name, M. Lockroy, is still alive. He personated the prisoner, and was clothed in black velvet, with black stockings and buckled shoes. He wore the double mask of velvet with steel springs over his lips.

In this piece, that all Paris went to see, Chilly represented Louis XIII.; Delaistre, M. de St. Mars; and Ligier, who was afterward the Duke of Gloucester and the Louis XI. of Casimir Delavigne, took the part of the protector of the unfortunate recluse.

Again, under another name—The Prisoner of the Bastille—the same story has been dramatized, and fresh interest added by an imaginary conversation between the captive and Louis XIV.

It is easily seen that the most general opinion of the Iron Mask considered him the twin-brother of Louis XIV., kept out of the way for fear of future trouble and collision in the government of France.

Some authors affirm, too, that he must have been deformed, his face distorted, or with some physical infirmity that it was necessary to conceal.

Others have thought that the brother of Louis XIV., being born the last, was the elder by right, if the opinion of physicians and legislators is to be consulted; and that the tenderness inspired by the first born of the two brothers occasioned the act of ostracism, which history has sought in vain for a hundred years to elucidate.

In 1837, there appeared a remarkable dissertation on the Iron Mask, by M. Paul Lacroix. He says that he who bore the name of Marchiali during his lifetime was not the twin-brotherof Louis XIV., and not even a son born clandestinely of the queen, but the superintendent, Fouquet himself.

But the Iron Mask has in turn been believed to be Fouquet, Marchiali, Arwediks, and other people who disappeared about that time.

He, however, who was called Marchiali, and who entered the Bastille the 18th of September, 1698, died there suddenly the 19th of November, 1703.

Very singular precautions were taken after his decease.

The body and face were mutilated, and every thing composing his furniture was burned; even the doors and windows of his bedroom. The silver he used was melted. The walls of his apartment were scraped and re-whitened.

He was buried the 20th of November, 1703, in the Church of St. Paul, under the name of Marchiali.

Time has not given the answer to this lugubrious enigma, and we fear M. Maurice Topin has failed to solve it.

But let us give him his meed of praise for having consecrated his nights to seeking for documents, comparing dates, and confronting the evidence of the most celebrated writers on the subject.

Honor to the brave historian whom the night of time does not intimidate, and who is willing to grope among the shades of the past for what is hidden, and above all a secret of the state!

Among all the victims of the oldrégimes,The Man with the Iron Maskwas the most interesting.

This popular story was in every mouth the day of the taking of the Bastille.

If he had lived until 1789, would it have been a pretender to the crown, or simply a suspected prisoner, that the people would have delivered?

We wait for M. Topin to answer.

In dreams no longer, but revealed to sight,Comes o'er us, like a vision after death,That shrine of tenderest worship—that delightOf loftiest contemplation—Nazareth.Fair-throned as when creation's King and QueenAbode within its walls, it looks aroundAs scorning time and change; though these have beenThe ruthless masters of its hallowed ground.Still smiling as of old, it catches stillAs fresh a morning; basks in such a noon;Hears evening's voice as sweetly softly thrill;In glory sleeps beneath a gushing moon.Still looms the Mountain of PrecipitationIn sadness o'er a vale serene and bright,As when the Saviour foiled his frenzied nation,Who fain had cast him headlong from the height.And see upon the slope the very gateWhere—spot to kiss!—a lowly footstep fell,As daily passed the Maid ImmaculateTo fill her pitcher yonder at the well.That well! where mirrored shone the loveliest faceThat ever woman wore! 'Tis there—the same!Though hating Christ and Juda's banished race,The Moslems honor there the Virgin's name.Give thanks, my soul! give thanks that thou hast seen.Make Nazareth all a well of grace; and prayTo keep its taste within thee—which has beenThe strength of saints. Drink deep, and go thy way.

In dreams no longer, but revealed to sight,Comes o'er us, like a vision after death,That shrine of tenderest worship—that delightOf loftiest contemplation—Nazareth.

Fair-throned as when creation's King and QueenAbode within its walls, it looks aroundAs scorning time and change; though these have beenThe ruthless masters of its hallowed ground.

Still smiling as of old, it catches stillAs fresh a morning; basks in such a noon;Hears evening's voice as sweetly softly thrill;In glory sleeps beneath a gushing moon.

Still looms the Mountain of PrecipitationIn sadness o'er a vale serene and bright,As when the Saviour foiled his frenzied nation,Who fain had cast him headlong from the height.

And see upon the slope the very gateWhere—spot to kiss!—a lowly footstep fell,As daily passed the Maid ImmaculateTo fill her pitcher yonder at the well.

That well! where mirrored shone the loveliest faceThat ever woman wore! 'Tis there—the same!Though hating Christ and Juda's banished race,The Moslems honor there the Virgin's name.

Give thanks, my soul! give thanks that thou hast seen.Make Nazareth all a well of grace; and prayTo keep its taste within thee—which has beenThe strength of saints. Drink deep, and go thy way.

B. D. H.

The Eastern Church has for the Catholic an attraction which centuries of separation have not been able to overcome. We look on its glories as our own, and we deplore its misfortunes as of our own household. We have a common faith, the same sacraments, the same sacrifice, essentially the same devotional practices. Between us stands the barrier of a schism which has lasted for centuries. It is of this schism, its origin, its history, that we propose to treat in this article.

To understand clearly the causes that precipitated so large and flourishing a portion of the church into a deadly schism, it is necessary to consider the relations of the bishops of Constantinople to Rome and the other great patriarchal sees, from the time when Constantine the Great placed the capital of his empire on the shores of the Bosphorus. The Bishop of Byzantium was then a suffragan of the Metropolitan of Heraclea. But when, with the presence of the emperor, the splendor and the reality of the capital had been transferred to the new Rome, the bishops of Byzantium became very important personages. They were, in fact, the ordinary medium of communication between the emperor and the other prelates of the Eastern Church. Not content with the great influence naturally arising from their vicinity to the court, they desired a style and title suitable, as they thought, to the dignity of the city of their residence. The second general council (A.D.381) gratified their wishes by a canon which decreed that the bishops of Constantinople,because it was the new Rome, should have precedence over all other prelates, after the Bishop ofRome. But this council has been held to be general only in its dogmatic definitions, since, as St. Gregory the Great[177]says, "The Roman Church neither has received nor accepted of its decrees or acts, with the exception of its definitions against Macedonius." In point of fact, it was a local synod, neither convoked nor presided over by the holy see, and has been called œcumenical only on account of the subsequent approbation of its dogmatic decrees by the same supreme authority. Its canon about the dignity of the Bishop of Constantinople thus fell to the ground. Pope Boniface I. (A.D.418-422) insisted on the observance of the order of dignity between the great sees established by the Council of Nice, according to which Alexandria held the second, and Antioch the third place. The same rule was adopted by Xystus III. and other pontiffs. However, the powerful prelates of the imperial city did not relinquish their ambitious views. The general council of Chalcedon (A.D.451) passed two canons, by which it permitted any cleric who felt himself aggrieved to appeal to the see of "the imperial city, Constantinople;" and besides, enacted the celebrated twenty-eighth canon in which the unfortunate principle that afterward led to schism was more openly avowed. Having cited the canon of the first council of Constantinople, it reaffirms it. "Since the fathers have justly granted privileges to the see of ancient Rome, because it was the imperial city, for the same reason the fathers of the second general council granted equal privileges to the episcopal throne of new Rome, rightly judging that the city which is honored by the imperial presence and the senate, and enjoys equal privileges with old Rome, should in ecclesiastical matters also be equally distinguished, retaining, however, the second place;" and then confers ecclesiastical jurisdiction on the Bishop of Constantinople over the dioceses in Pontus, Asia Minor, and Thrace, and those that might afterward be "erected among the barbarians." The fathers, however, petitioned St. Leo the Great for the approval of this regulation, alleging the good of religion as their motive. But that great pontiff promptly "annulled their action by the authority of St. Peter," as contrary to the canon of Nice, remarking at the same time that ecclesiastical questions were not regulated on the same plan as secular affairs, and that the Bishop of Constantinople ought to be satisfied with the imperial privileges of his city, without disturbing church discipline, and invading the long-acknowledged rights of others. The obnoxious canon is not to be found in the most ancient and best collections, though, in practice, the bishops of Constantinople always availed themselves of the privileges it attempted to grant them.

This uncanonical usurpation gave rise to a serious controversy toward the end of the century. Acacius, Bishop of Constantinople, relying on the twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon, interfered in the election and consecration of the patriarchs of Alexandria and Antioch. He was also accused and convicted of favoring the Eutychian heretics. For these causes he was condemned and deposed by Pope Felix III. (A.D.484.) The oriental bishops continued, however, to retain his name in the commemoration at mass, (sacris diptychis,) and the popes, on this account, refused to communicate with them, until the pontificate of Hormisdas, when they submitted to the holy see, erased the obnoxious name from the sacred records, and subscribed a formula of faith, in which they professed theiragreement with the synods of Ephesus and Chalcedon, condemned Acacius and others by name, acknowledged all the dogmatic epistles of St. Leo, and declared that in the apostolic see is to be found "the true and entire fulness of the Christian religion," and that those "who did not agree with the apostolic see were separated from the communion of the Catholic Church."

After this happy termination, with one exception, no serious difficulty on disciplinary questions occurred between the two sees until the time of Photius. Heresies, indeed, arose in the Eastern Church; but both parties appealed to Rome, and the Catholic prelates and people always accepted her judgment as final. The exception to which we allude occurred under the pontificate of Pelagius II. and St. Gregory the Great, and affords a striking instance of the different spirit that animated old and new Rome. In the year of our Lord 583, John, surnamedThe Faster, was called to the see of Constantinople. Gregory, patriarch of Antioch, being accused of grave crimes, the Bishop of Constantinople convoked a synod of the whole east, and in his letters of convocation assumed the title ofœcumenical, or universal,patriarch. Pope Pelagius II. promptly condemned both the usurpation of jurisdiction over the see of Antioch and the newly-assumed title, especially as John pretended to convoke a general council, thus trenching upon the rights of the apostolic see. The controversy continued under St. Gregory the Great, who exhorted the bishops of Alexandria and Antioch to resist this invasion of the rightful dignity of their sees. He refused for himself the high-sounding title, though it had been given to his predecessors by the great council of Chalcedon, choosing the humbler designation ofservant of the servants of God, which has ever since been used by the Roman pontiffs in their official documents. Cyriacus, the immediate successor of The Faster, continued to claim the obnoxious title, until he was prohibited to do so by the Emperor Phocas. But, as all Phocas's decrees were annulled by Heraclius, the bishops of Constantinople resumed the offensive usage. It is to be remarked, however, that they always gave an explanation of the title, which showed that they did not intend to infringe on the primatial rights of the Roman see. They disclaimed any really universal jurisdiction, claiming, at most, authority over the whole east. Insufficient as such an explanation was justly held to be by the popes, it shows that even the ambitious prelates of Constantinople, greedy as they were of high titles and extended jurisdiction, never, in the early ages, dared to place themselves on an equality with the bishops of old Rome, the successors of St. Peter in the government of the universal church.

From these facts, it is also evident that the real cause of dissensions between Rome and Constantinople was not, as alleged by Protestant historians, following the lead of Mosheim, the ambition of the pontiffs of Rome, who were striving for mastery over the whole church, while the bishops of Constantinople were contending for the rightful independence of the eastern portion thereof. The supremacy of the Roman see was recognized by every general council before the election of Photius, and all of them were held in the east, composed of eastern bishops, and guided by eastern ideas and influence. The very canons which attempted to give high dignity to Constantinople, acknowledged the primacy of Rome, and asked only the second place for the capital of the eastern empirewhile that of Chalcedon was formally submitted to St. Leo, and his approbation asked for it. When the most illustrious prelate that ever governed New Rome, St. John Chrysostom, was unjustly treated, he appealed as a matter of right to Pope Innocent I., and his appeal was sustained. When heresy arose in the east, the orthodox bishops of Constantinople always submitted to the judgment of the holy see, and sat in councils over which its legates presided. The history of the Nestorian, Eutychian, Monothelite, and Iconoclast heresies affords the most indubitable proofs that the Eastern Church, including that of Constantinople, always admitted the supreme teaching and governing authority of the see of St. Peter.

At the same time, it is plain that a spirit was growing up which a bold, ambitious man might easily use to divide the unity of the church. The second general council affirmed a fatal principle when it wished to give Constantinople the second place among the great sees,because it was the new Rome. This principle was more fully and offensively developed in the twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon. It appeared to imply that the secular dignity of Rome was the cause of its ecclesiastical primacy, which should, consequently, follow the imperial court. Not, indeed, that the fathers of either council would have admitted such a consequence. They recognized the divinely established primacy of the Roman see; but they wished to gratify the emperor of the day, and to second the desires of the powerful prelates of the imperial city, to whom many of them were doubtless indebted for substantial favors. But, unwittingly, they planted the germ of schism, which at the appointed time produced its terrible fruit. This is the reason why the pontiffs always opposed the uncanonical pretensions of the prelates of Constantinople; they defended not their own, for they were not attacked, but the rights of the sees of Alexandria and Antioch, and jealously guarded against encroachments, which they saw too well were only the forerunners of greater and more fatal usurpations. The result, deplorable as it has been, only confirms the accuracy of their foresight, and justifies their honest, fearless, incorruptible resistance.

The responsibility of the fatal step to formal schism rests upon the celebrated Photius. In the year 857, St. Ignatius had been Patriarch of Constantinople for a little more than a decade. Of austere virtue and firm character, he detested vice, and feared not to denounce it even in high places. The then reigning emperor, Michael III., is compared by Gibbon to Nero and Heliogabalus. "Like Nero, he delighted in the amusements of the theatre, and sighed to be surpassed in the accomplishments in which he should have blushed to excel.... The most skilful charioteers obtained the first place in his confidence and esteem; their merit was profusely rewarded; the emperor feasted in their houses, and presented their children at the baptismal font; and, while he applauded his own popularity, he affected to blame the cold and stately reserve of his predecessors." After saying that he was intemperate, licentious, and sanguinary, the historian adds: "But the most extraordinary feature in the character of Michael is the profane mockery of the religion of his country.... A buffoon of the court was invested in the robes of the patriarch; his twelve metropolitans, among whom the emperor was ranked, assumed their ecclesiastical garments; they used or abused the sacred vessels of the altar; and, in their bacchanalian feasts,the holy communion was administered in a nauseous compound of vinegar and mustard. Nor were these impious spectacles concealed from the city. On the day of a solemn festival, the emperor, with his bishops or buffoons, rode on asses through the streets, encountered the true patriarch at the head of his clergy, and, by their licentious shouts and obscene gestures, disordered the gravity of the Christian procession." While this promising youth was thus enjoying himself with sumptuous banquets, fast horses, and degrading shows, his uncle, the Cæsar Bardas, was the real emperor. He, too, though a man of talents and application to business, was of depraved morals, and was at length excommunicated by St. Ignatius, because he had dismissed his wife, and attempted to marry his own daughter-in-law. From that moment the licentious Cæsar determined on the ruin of the patriarch. Toward the end of the year 857, the holy man was sent into exile and imprisoned in a monastery, where he positively refused to resign his episcopal dignity. A synod of bishops was held, who, through either fear or favor, deposed Ignatius, and elected Photius in his stead.[178]

If unhallowed ambition had not induced Photius to usurp high ecclesiastical dignity, his abilities, industry, learning, and hitherto blameless life might have obtained for him one of the most honorable places in the history of the Byzantine empire. But from the day when, disregarding all idea of right and of canonical restrictions, he forced himself into the sanctuary, his whole career was one of chicanery, fraud, injustice, and finally open schism. Even had the see of Constantinople been vacant, his election was null, because he was a layman, and it was strictly prohibited by the canons to elect laymen to the episcopal dignity. He himself reënacted these very canons, thereby practically condemning his own election. He held a high position in the imperial court, was captain of the guards, and principal secretary of the emperor, and his energy and acknowledged abilities might have obtained for him still higher honors. But he was dazzled by the splendor of the patriarchal throne, and ascended it by an irregular ordination. Within six days he received all the orders of the church, being consecrated bishop on Christmas day,A.D.857. This hasty conferring of sacred orders was also against the canons. His consecrator was Gregory, Bishop of Syracuse, who had been tried by St. Ignatius, found guilty of various grave crimes, and regularly deposed in a legitimate synod. It would be difficult to find an episcopal election and ordination marred by greater or more numerous irregularities.

Almost the first act of Photius was to recognize the primacy of the holy see. He sent legates to Pope Nicholas I., who were charged to inform the pontiff that Ignatius, worn out by age and disease, had voluntarily renounced the episcopal dignity, and retired to a monastery; and that Photius had been elected by all the metropolitans and the entire clergy, and forced by the emperor to accept the dignity; he also sent an orthodox profession of faith, hoping thus to deceive the pontiff. The emperor, too, sent his representative with a letter requesting the pope to send legates to Constantinople to restore discipline, and finally root out the Iconoclasts. But St. Nicholas was too clear-sighted to be caught by the wiles of the crafty Greek. He did, indeed, send legates; but charged them merely to examine into the case of Ignatius, report fully thereon to the apostolic see, and meanwhile to admitPhotius to only lay communion. His objections to the proceedings at Constantinople were, first, that the deposition of St. Ignatius was one of the greater causes, which could not be determined unless by the supreme judgment of the holy see; and, secondly, that, at all events, the election of Photius, he having been at the time a mere layman, was uncanonical, and his consecration irregular. On both points he was fully sustained by ancient canons admitted in the eastern as well as in the western church. But he did not give a final judgment; he merely ordered his legates to make thorough inquiry into the facts, and report thereon to himself.

They, however, proved unfaithful to their high trust. As soon as they arrived at their destination, they were kept in honorable imprisonment for the space of one hundred days, during which they were allowed to see no one but the friends of Photius. Influenced partly by threats, partly by gifts, they at last consented to favor the cause of the usurper. He then called together a synod, (A.D.861,) at which the legates presided. Photius read what he called the letters of the pope, but which were really documents mutilated and interpolated by his crafty hand. St. Ignatius was then brought before the synod, clad in the garb of a monk. He refused to be judged by men all in the interest of Photius, declared that he appealed to the pope, and quoted in his favor the fourth canon of the Council of Sardica, which especially recognizes the right of such appeal, and the precedent of St. John Chrysostom. But appeals to justice and law are lost on a packed synod as well as on a packed jury. False witnesses were introduced, who swore that he had not been legitimately elected, but owed his elevation to intrusion by the secular power; and on this charge, true enough as against Photius, he was deposed. One prelate spoke in his behalf, Theodulus of Ancyra, who was immediately wounded by a ruffian, and thus enabled with his blood to give testimony to the right. The ceremony of degradation then ensued; the venerable patriarch was clothed with the insignia of his order and dignity, and one by one these were taken off him by a deposed subdeacon who, at each act, exclaimed aloud,Indignus, (unworthy,) a word reëchoed by all present, even the legates of the apostolic see. He was then thrown into the sepulchral vault of Constantine Copronymus, tormented there in a most terrible manner, nearly starved to death, till, after two weeks, when he was more dead than alive, a minion of Photius, seizing his hand, forced him to scratch a cross on a sheet of paper. Over this cross the usurper wrote a formal acknowledgment of the justice of the sentence of the synod, and sent it to the emperor as the voluntary act of his victim. One result of this fraud was the liberation of the holy man, leave having been accorded to him to retire to his mother's property; but as he had reason to fear more violence, he left Constantinople in disguise, and took refuge in the islands of the Propontis, where he succeeded in baffling the pursuit of his heartless and unscrupulous enemies.

Meanwhile, he sent a trustworthy messenger to Rome to inform the supreme pontiff of the terrible injustice and indignities to which he had been subjected in the presence and with the approval of the legates of the holy see. These worthies returned, and informed the pope that Ignatius had been canonically deposed and Photius canonically installed. Photius also wrote a letter remarkableboth for craftiness and elegance. It contained neither an offence against good style nor a word of truth. He regretted his elevation, deplored the burden imposed on his weak shoulders, expressed his desire to conform to the Roman discipline, and to govern with ecclesiastical firmness, and blended not unskilfully the arts of flattery and sophistry. But Nicholas was not to be deceived. He examined the acts of the false synod, found the fraud that had been committed, and, calling a council at Rome, restored Ignatius, deposed Photius, and one of the traitor legates, who publicly acknowledged his crime. As the other was absent, his case was put off until he could be heard in his defence. The pontiff wrote also to the emperor and Photius, announcing his action in the premises, addressing the latter merely as a layman. In a later synod, (A.D.863,) having heard from the representative of St. Ignatius a full and well-authenticated account of all the iniquity of Photius, the pope deposed him from every grade of the sacred ministry, and interdicted him, under anathema, from which he was not to be absolved unless at the moment of death, from ever exercising any act of the same, or from in any way disturbing the legitimate patriarch, Ignatius. He also deposed all those who had been promoted by the usurper, as well as the second legate, who, by not appearing when cited, had added to his other crimes that of contumacy.

On hearing this news, Photius proceeded to the dire act of formal schism. He called a council, and formally excommunicated Pope Nicholas. Only one-and-twenty bishops followed him in his impious course. The rest cried out, "It is not just to pronounce sentence against the supreme and first pontiff, especially when it is an inferior who pronounces it." To support his action, he published a circular letter to the patriarchs and bishops of the East, in which he accused the Roman see and the Western Church of the following crimes: 1. that they abstained from flesh on Saturday; 2. that, during the first week of Lent, they used milk and cheese; 3. that the clergy in sacred orders observed celibacy; 4. that they reserved the right of conferring confirmation to bishops; 5. that, by a change in the symbol, they pretended that the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Son as well as from the Father. No sensible reader but will smile at the first four charges; in relation to the fifth, we shall only observe here that, as first made by Photius, it did not allege a mere breach of discipline, it involved the crime of heresy. As thus proffered it cannot be, as it is not, now sustained by any orthodox Christian.

But the vices of the Emperor Michael brought upon him that punishment which has so often visited licentious sovereigns. A conspiracy was formed against him, and he was assassinated in his own palace, (A.D.867.) The chief of the conspirators, Basil the Macedonian, ascended the vacant throne. No one can defend the crime of assassination; but the character of the new emperor has been painted in bright colors by the historian. Of course, Photius fell with his patron, and St. Ignatius was restored to his see. Both the emperor and patriarch hastened to notify St. Nicholas of this happy event. But that great and courageous pontiff had already been called to his reward. The messengers from Constantinople found Adrian II. in the chair of Peter. He congratulated them on the turn events had taken, and, in order fully to heal the schism of Photius, thought well to have a general council held at Constantinople. The emperor consented and made the necessary dispositions.The council was opened in the church of St. Sophia, on Oct. 5th, 869, held ten sessions, and ended on the last day of February following. The legates of the pope, Donatus, Bishop of Ostia, Stephen, Bishop of Nepè, and Marinus, deacon of the Roman Church, presided. Their names and legatine authority are always mentioned first in the acts. A high place of honor was given to the emperor, as protector of the church. The action of the council was in entire conformity with the instruction of the pope to his legates. Ignatius was declared legitimate patriarch, and Photius for ever deposed from any clerical order. He was, however, offered lay communion, on condition that he should retract and condemn, in writing, all the iniquitous acts of his usurpation. Proper measures were taken to remedy the confusion created by his long intrusion, and a profession of faith was published, as well as twenty-seven disciplinary canons. Photius was invited to appear in person; but he refused, denying the competency of the synod to try him. To say the least, it was as competent to try him as the one he had called to try Ignatius. The acts of the synod were subsequently confirmed by Pope Adrian, and it has always been admitted as universal by the church.

Thus, for the seventh time in the history of the church had a general council been held in the East, composed of eastern bishops, presided over by the legates of the apostolic see. At the first audience given by the emperor to the legates of Adrian II., the former said, "In the name of God, we beg that the work be strenuously carried on, that the scandals caused by the wickedness of Photius be dispelled, so that the long-wished-for unity and tranquillity be restored according to the decree of the most holy Pope Nicholas." To which they made answer, "For this have we come hither; for this purpose have we been sent hither; but we cannot receive any one of your eastern bishops into our council unless we shall have received from them a writing, according to a formula which we have taken from the archives of the apostolic see." And in the first session their demands were complied with. So that at the very time when we are told by Protestant writers that Photius was fighting for the rightful independence of the see of Constantinople, the supremacy of the see of Rome was admitted in a general synod by every eastern bishop that was not a creature of Photius.

The attempted schism had thus been vigorously repressed, and Photius lived ten years in exile. But he succeeded in gaining the esteem and the favor of the monarch by an expedient which has often before and since met with the same reward. Basil was of ignoble descent; Photius made out a genealogy by which he showed the family of the emperor to be an offshoot of the Arsacides, "the rivals of Rome, who had possessed the sceptre of the east for four hundred years." The acknowledged erudition of the author lent probability to the forgery; the pride of the monarch was flattered, and his gratitude awakened. On the death of St. Ignatius, (A.D.877,) Photius was recalled to the see of Constantinople, and the emperor immediately sent ambassadors to Rome, begging the pontiff to acquiesce in the election. He declared that Photius had seen the error of his ways, that his present elevation would restore peace to the church, and that all the bishops, even those who had adhered to Ignatius, petitioned for his confirmation. John VIII., who then occupied the Roman see, judged it expedient to gratify this universal desire. He required, however,that Photius should in a public synod acknowledge the decrees of Popes Nicholas and Adrian, and the general council, beg pardon for the faults he had committed and the scandals he had given, be absolved from censure, and then, and not till then, be acknowledged as Bishop of Constantinople. He sent legates to execute this decree of mercy. But the pride of Photius would not brook submission, and he resorted to his old arts. Again the apostolic legates were corrupted or intimidated; again Photius mutilated the pope's letters; received in a numerous synod, from the legates themselves, the insignia of the patriarchal dignity; and without any opposition from them, if not with their consent, the eighth council was abrogated, and the acts of Popes Nicholas and Adrian condemned.

On their return to Rome, the legates, of course, reported that the injunctions of the pontiff had been strictly observed; but the pride of Photius betrayed them. In his letter he said he had fulfilled all the conditions save that of begging pardon, because he had done nothing to require pardon. This led John to an investigation which revealed to him how shamefully he had been disobeyed. He accordingly sent to Constantinople the same Marinus, who had been one of the legates to the general council, ordering him to rescind every thing that had been done against his mandate. This brave and intelligent man fully and faithfully performed his duty, and was imprisoned for thirty days; but as his constancy could not be overcome, he was allowed to return to Rome. Whereupon Pope John, "ascending the pulpit, taking the Gospel in his hands, in the hearing of the whole congregation, thus spake, 'Whoever doth not hold Photius condemned by the sentence of God, as the holy Popes Nicholas and Adrian, my predecessors, left him, let him be anathema.'" Photius, however, remained in possession as long as Basil lived. His son and successor, Leo the Philosopher, albeit educated by Photius, caused the sentence of the pontiffs to be executed. As the newly-elected prelate, Stephan, had been ordained deacon by Photius, a circumstance which rendered him irregular, a dispensation was prayed for from Rome. This was granted by Pope Formosus, with a saving clause that it should not be interpreted against the condemnation of Photius. Thus the schism was healed for a time. Photius died in a monastery,A.D.891.

We have entered into these details to show on what grounds the origin of the Greek schism rests. It was not, we repeat it, a contest for supremacy. New Rome had never even claimed equality with the see of Peter. Its bishops had never asked but the second place. Could Photius have obtained the confirmation of his election from the pope, it is probable he never would have rushed into schism. It has been said that St. Nicholas was too harsh with him. But had the pontiff neglected to do justice to St. Ignatius, the very writers who now criticise him for severity, would have blamed him with culpable weakness. Indeed, John VIII. has met with such censure. But how did Photius repay his kindness? By fraud, by the grossest insult to his predecessors, and to an œcumenical council. It is useless to speak of the erudition of the usurper, or of his services to literature. These, great though they be, cannot palliate his crimes. The popes defended oppressed virtue and the canons of the church; Photius, having failed to deceive, seduce, or intimidate them, was driven to the desperate resort of schism. A sceptic like Gibbon may indeed scoff at thewhole dispute; but he who believes that Christ established a church and appointed a certain form of government, must shudder as he reads of the fatal action of one man, who, to gratify his unhallowed ambition, began a schism which has ended in the ruin of some of the fairest portions of Christendom. It is all very well in the nineteenth century to talk of independent national churches; the idea was unheard of in the ninth. Else why did Photius so persistently endeavor to obtain the confirmation of his election from the pope? His own action condemns him; the whole history of the Greek Church condemns him; and the modern Greeks, who are such sticklers for antiquity, stand equally condemned.

The question of jurisdiction over Bulgaria has been magnified by some writers into a cause of the schism. But the fact that Ignatius is revered as a saint by the church, though up to the time of his death he defended the supposed rights of his see in this regard, shows that, important though the controversy doubtless was, it could not have caused a separation. The popes would, at most, have contented themselves with protesting against the usurpation, as they had done in other cases. The ancient Illyricum, of which Bulgaria is a part, undoubtedly belonged to the Roman patriarchate. So did Achaia. Both were transferred to that of Constantinople by a decree of the Iconoclast emperor, Leo the Isaurian, in revenge for the condemnation of his heresy by the holy see. And these historical facts have been alleged by the schismatic bishops of modern Greece to justify their forming themselves into a national church, independent of the patriarch of Constantinople. Says one of their defenders, "An heretical emperor took away these dioceses from an orthodox pope to give them to a patriarch who was a heretic like himself."[179]The Bulgarian monarch sent, almost at the same time, ambassadors to the pope and to the Byzantine emperor, asking for missionaries to instruct himself and his people in the Christian faith. Those sent from Rome arrived first on the ground; but the secular influence of Constantinople was too great for them, and they were sent back. Of course, the popes protested against this outrage against—be it carefully observed—not their primatial, but their patriarchal rights; but there is no reason to suppose the controversy could have given rise to schism. The moderation of the pontiffs on such questions, recorded on every page of their history, is our warrant for this assertion. It was only when some primary law of the church was violated, some gross injustice against innocent persons committed, or their own supremacy defied, that they felt themselves obliged to resort to measures of the last severity.

Photius was finally deposed in the year 866. From that event for more than a century there was peace between old and new Rome. At length one of the family of the usurper, Sergius, was elevated to the see of Constantinople, (A.D.988.) He held a council, excommunicated the popes, and erased their names from the sacred records. This outrage must never have reached the ears of the holy see. At least, we find no vestige of any action taken by the popes concerning it. Sergius was succeeded, in 1018, by Eustachius, who applied to Pope John XIX. for permission to adopt the title ofœcumenical patriarch. The request being refused by the pontiff, his name was omitted from thediptychsby the indignantprelate. He was succeeded by Alexius, about whose attitude to the holy see we can discover nothing in the records of the age. In the year 1034, Michael Cerularius was made bishop of New Rome. Profane as well as sacred historians represent him as a proud, ambitious, and turbulent person. He determined formally to revive the schism inaugurated by Photius. His principal accomplices were Leo of Acrida, Metropolitan of Bulgaria, and one Nicholas, a monk. They issued a letter directed to John, Bishop of Trani, in southern Italy, giving their reasons why they no longer wished to hold communion with the Western Church, and addressed a letter of similar import to the patriarchs of the east. Most of these reasons are so puerile that in reading them one would be tempted to smile, were it not for the thought that they were used to create a deadly schism. Such were the charges: that the Latins used unleavened bread in the holy sacrifice; that they did not abstain from "strangled things and blood;" that their monks ate swine flesh; that their priests shaved off their beards; that they did not singAlleluiaduring Lent; that they gave thepaxbefore the communion at mass; that their bishops wore a ring. In the long arraignment there is but one accusation that the most prejudiced enemy of the holy see can call serious, namely, that of the addition of thefilioqueto the symbol. As to this, we shall content ourselves by relating afterward how it was met, and the controversy about it settled, in the Council of Florence.

St. Leo IX., who then occupied the holy see, having been made acquainted with the contents of the letter of Cerularius, wrote a long and able answer, in which he offered peace to all who were really lovers of peace, based, however, on the unity of the church and the primacy of the Roman see. Cerularius asked him to send legates to Constantinople to settle the pending difficulties. The pope acquiesced, and sent two cardinals, Humbert and Frederic, and the Archbishop of Amalfi. Cerularius not only refused to meet them, but endeavored to prevent them from celebrating the sacred mysteries in any of the churches of Constantinople. The legates having repeatedly warned him, were obliged to excommunicate him in the church of St. Sophia. He, in turn, excommunicated the Roman pontiff, and wrote letters to the patriarchs of the great eastern sees with the object of drawing them into the schism. The answer of the Patriarch of Antioch alone has been preserved. He defends the Latins from many of the charges raised by Cerularius, while he admits some to be true; but he refuses to join the wrong-headed bishop of New Rome in his schism.

Most historians date from this period the definitive separation of the Greek Church from that of Rome. It would be easy, however, to show that communication was occasionally kept up during the rest of the eleventh and a portion of the twelfth centuries. Practically, however, it may be said that Cerularius separated new and old Rome, especially as the Greeks ever after held to two points he had raised against the Western Church—the addition offilioqueto the symbol, and the use of unleavened bread in the holy sacrifice.

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