Indeed the identification of Hilary’s hymns—except theLucis largitor—is purely conjectural. It rests mainly on the hymnological acumen of Cardinal Thomasius, which may or may not be liable to error. Kayser refuses, on one ground or another, to positively endorse any, except the one which all now concede. Next to this in probability stands theBeata nobis gaudia(though it is doubted by Professor March), and then theDeus pater ingenite, which is taken from the Mozarabic Breviary. TheJam meta noctis transiit, theIn matutinis surgimus, and theJesu refulsit omnium, have only the authority of Thomasius. TheJesu quadragenariae, Daniel says, is an old hymn, but very certainly composed later than the time of Hilary. TheAd coeli clarawe have already rejected. Thus we have one authentic and five conjectural Hilarian hymns. There is, however, great doubt resting on theJesu refulsit omnium; and if I consulted merely my own judgment, I should declare against it, if only in view of therhymes—a characteristic which it would scarcely possess if it were genuinely of the fourth century. And while we are upon this somewhat ungrateful duty of trying to set matters right, shall we pass over the slip which Mrs. Charles makes in her capital little book? (Christian Life in Song.Am. ed., p. 74.) For she says that “The Hilary who wrote the hymns was the canonized Bishop of Arles.” There was, much later, a Hilary of Arles; and there was another Hilary of Rome, and there were also others of the same name; but none of them wrote hymns. He of Arles assuredly did not.
Of our own Hilary it may be added that the rest of his life was earnest, but comparatively quiet. We shall find Gregory of Tours and Fortunatus asserting that he raised the dead and healed the sick, and cast out devils (some of them in the shape of snakes) from a boy’s stomach; but these stories belong naturally to a credulous and superstitious age. More to the purpose is it to find that the bishop had entered upon the composition of tunes for his hymns, and had taken up calligraphy and the ornamentation of manuscripts. There was a book of the Gospels found, on which was indorsed, “Quem scripsit Hilarius Pictavensis quondam sacerdos”—“which Hilary of Poitiers, formerly a priest, wrote.” A similar book was left by St. Perpetuus, Bishop of Tours, to Bishop Euphronius, Fortunatus’s friend. This is attested by his will, executed in 474. “I saw,” says Christian Druthmar (ninthcentury), “a book of the Gospels, written in Greek, which was said to have been St. Hilary’s, in which were Matthew and John,” etc. But whether Hilary wrote this is naturally an open question.
The good bishop died at Poitiers—as Jerome and Gregory of Tours declare—but the date is still a matter of some uncertainty. Valentinian and Valens were upon the throne, and it is safe to say that 367-68 was the year. January 14th has also been assigned by some authorities, but with no better reason than a generally received tradition to this effect, and the fact that this is his day in the Roman calendar. His body was, however, scattered rather widely. It was removed from its tomb in the time of Clovis—a bone of his arm was in Belgium, and some other portions of his anatomy were in Limoges. About the year 638, Dagobert is stated to have placed his remains in the Church of St. Dionysius, and so confident of this fact were the people of Poitiers, in 1394, that they vehemently asserted that they had his relics there in perfect safety. “Calvinistic heretics” were said to have burned the mortal remnants of the great “hammer of the Arians,” and the Pictavians took this method to meet the calumny. For aught we know to the contrary they were perfectly right, and the dust of their bishop is still resting peacefully in their midst.
For his works, the Paris edition of 1693 is the best; but thePatrologiaof J. P. Migne contains all that any one can need or care to see. It is the full reprint of the Paris volumes, together with biographical and critical notes, in Latin, prepared with great diligence and research; but, of course, from the Roman Catholic point of view.
1.Lucis largitor splendide,Cujus sereno luminePost lapsa noctis temporaDies refusus panditur;
1.Lucis largitor splendide,
Cujus sereno lumine
Post lapsa noctis tempora
Dies refusus panditur;
2.Tu verus mundi Lucifer,Non is, qui parvi siderisVenturae lucis nuntiusAngusto fulget lumine,
2.Tu verus mundi Lucifer,
Non is, qui parvi sideris
Venturae lucis nuntius
Angusto fulget lumine,
3.Sed toto sole clarior,Lux ipse totus et dies,Interna nostri pectorisIlluminans praecordia:
3.Sed toto sole clarior,
Lux ipse totus et dies,
Interna nostri pectoris
Illuminans praecordia:
4.Adesto, rerum conditor,Paternae lucis gloria,Cujus admota gratiaNostra patescunt corpora;
4.Adesto, rerum conditor,
Paternae lucis gloria,
Cujus admota gratia
Nostra patescunt corpora;
5.Tuoque plena spiritu,Secum Deum gestantia,Ne rapientis perfidiDiris patescant fraudibus,
5.Tuoque plena spiritu,
Secum Deum gestantia,
Ne rapientis perfidi
Diris patescant fraudibus,
6.Ut inter actus seculiVitae quos usus exigit,Omni carentes crimineTuis vivamus legibus.
6.Ut inter actus seculi
Vitae quos usus exigit,
Omni carentes crimine
Tuis vivamus legibus.
7.Probrosas mentis castitasCarnis vincat libidines,Sanctumque puri corporisDelubrum servet Spiritus.
7.Probrosas mentis castitas
Carnis vincat libidines,
Sanctumque puri corporis
Delubrum servet Spiritus.
8.Haec spes precantis animae,Haec sunt votiva munera,Ut matutina nobis sitLux in noctis custodiam.
8.Haec spes precantis animae,
Haec sunt votiva munera,
Ut matutina nobis sit
Lux in noctis custodiam.
1.Thou splendid giver of the light,By whose serene and lovely rayBeyond the gloomy shades of nightIs opened wide another day!
1.Thou splendid giver of the light,
By whose serene and lovely ray
Beyond the gloomy shades of night
Is opened wide another day!
2.Thou true Light-bearer of the earth,Far more than he whose slender star,Son of the morning, in its dearthOf radiance sheds its beams afar!
2.Thou true Light-bearer of the earth,
Far more than he whose slender star,
Son of the morning, in its dearth
Of radiance sheds its beams afar!
3.But clearer than the sun may shine,All light and day in Thee I find,To fill my night with glory fineAnd purify my inner mind.
3.But clearer than the sun may shine,
All light and day in Thee I find,
To fill my night with glory fine
And purify my inner mind.
4.Come near, Thou maker of the world,Illustrious in thy Father’s light,From whose free grace if we were hurled,Body and soul were ruined quite.
4.Come near, Thou maker of the world,
Illustrious in thy Father’s light,
From whose free grace if we were hurled,
Body and soul were ruined quite.
5.Fill with Thy Spirit every sense,That God’s divine and gracious loveMay drive Satanic temptings hence,And blight their falsehoods from above.
5.Fill with Thy Spirit every sense,
That God’s divine and gracious love
May drive Satanic temptings hence,
And blight their falsehoods from above.
6.That in the acts of common toilWhich life demands from us each day,We may, without a stain or soil,Live in Thy holy laws alway.
6.That in the acts of common toil
Which life demands from us each day,
We may, without a stain or soil,
Live in Thy holy laws alway.
7.Let chastity of mind prevailTo conquer every fleshly lust;And keep Thy temple without fail,O Holy Ghost, from filth and dust.
7.Let chastity of mind prevail
To conquer every fleshly lust;
And keep Thy temple without fail,
O Holy Ghost, from filth and dust.
8.This hope is in my praying heart—These are my vows which now I pay;That this sweet light may not depart,But guide me purely through the day.
8.This hope is in my praying heart—
These are my vows which now I pay;
That this sweet light may not depart,
But guide me purely through the day.
1.Deus, Pater ingenite,Et Fili unigenite,Quos Trinitatis unitasSancto connectit Spiritu.
1.Deus, Pater ingenite,
Et Fili unigenite,
Quos Trinitatis unitas
Sancto connectit Spiritu.
2.Te frustra nullus invocat,Nec cassis unquam vocibusAmator tui luminisAd coelum vultus erigit.
2.Te frustra nullus invocat,
Nec cassis unquam vocibus
Amator tui luminis
Ad coelum vultus erigit.
3.Et tu suspirantem, Deus,Vel vota supplicantium,Vel corda confitentiumSemper benignus aspice.
3.Et tu suspirantem, Deus,
Vel vota supplicantium,
Vel corda confitentium
Semper benignus aspice.
4.Nos lucis ortus admonetGrates deferre debitas,Tibique laudes dicere,Quod nox obscura praeterit.
4.Nos lucis ortus admonet
Grates deferre debitas,
Tibique laudes dicere,
Quod nox obscura praeterit.
5.[Et] diem precamur bonum,Ut nostros, Salvator, actusSinceritate perpetiPius benigne instruas.
5.[Et] diem precamur bonum,
Ut nostros, Salvator, actus
Sinceritate perpeti
Pius benigne instruas.
1.Eternal Father, God,And sole-begotten Son,Who with the Holy GhostArt ever Three in One.
1.Eternal Father, God,
And sole-begotten Son,
Who with the Holy Ghost
Art ever Three in One.
2.None calleth Thee in vain,Nor yet with empty cryDoth he who seeks Thy lightLift up his gaze on high.
2.None calleth Thee in vain,
Nor yet with empty cry
Doth he who seeks Thy light
Lift up his gaze on high.
3.Do Thou, O God, beholdWith mercy them that pray;Receive their earnest vowsAnd take their guilt away.
3.Do Thou, O God, behold
With mercy them that pray;
Receive their earnest vows
And take their guilt away.
4.The kindling sky forewarnsOur souls what praise we oweTo Him at whose commandThe night has ceased below.
4.The kindling sky forewarns
Our souls what praise we owe
To Him at whose command
The night has ceased below.
5.We ask a happy day,That Thou shouldst guide our waysIn constant faithfulness,O Saviour, to Thy praise!
5.We ask a happy day,
That Thou shouldst guide our ways
In constant faithfulness,
O Saviour, to Thy praise!
1.Beata nobis gaudiaAnni reduxit orbita,Cum Spiritus paraclitusIllapsus est discipulis.
1.Beata nobis gaudia
Anni reduxit orbita,
Cum Spiritus paraclitus
Illapsus est discipulis.
2.Ignis vibrante lumineLinguae figuram detulit,Verbis ut essent proflui,Et charitate fervidi.
2.Ignis vibrante lumine
Linguae figuram detulit,
Verbis ut essent proflui,
Et charitate fervidi.
3.Linguis loquuntur omnium;Turbae pavent gentilium:Musto madere deputant,Quos Spiritus repleverat.
3.Linguis loquuntur omnium;
Turbae pavent gentilium:
Musto madere deputant,
Quos Spiritus repleverat.
4.Patrata sunt haec mystice,Paschae peracto tempore,Sacro dierum circulo,Quo lege fit remissio.
4.Patrata sunt haec mystice,
Paschae peracto tempore,
Sacro dierum circulo,
Quo lege fit remissio.
5.Te nunc, Deus piissime,Vultu precamur cernuo:Illapsa nobis coelitusLargire dona Spiritus!
5.Te nunc, Deus piissime,
Vultu precamur cernuo:
Illapsa nobis coelitus
Largire dona Spiritus!
6.Dudum sacrata pectoraTua replesti gratia,Dimitte nostra crimina,Et da quieta tempora!
6.Dudum sacrata pectora
Tua replesti gratia,
Dimitte nostra crimina,
Et da quieta tempora!
1.What blessed joys are ours,When time renews our thoughtOf that true ComforterOn the disciples brought.
1.What blessed joys are ours,
When time renews our thought
Of that true Comforter
On the disciples brought.
2.With light of quivering flameIn fiery tongues He fell,And hearts were warm with loveAnd lips were quick to tell.
2.With light of quivering flame
In fiery tongues He fell,
And hearts were warm with love
And lips were quick to tell.
3.All tongues were loosened then,And fear, in men, awokeBefore that mighty powerBy which the Spirit spoke.
3.All tongues were loosened then,
And fear, in men, awoke
Before that mighty power
By which the Spirit spoke.
4.Achieved in mystic signHas been that paschal feast,Whose sacred list of daysThe soul from sin released.
4.Achieved in mystic sign
Has been that paschal feast,
Whose sacred list of days
The soul from sin released.
5.Thee then, O holiest Lord,We pray in humble guiseTo give such heavenly giftsBefore our later eyes.
5.Thee then, O holiest Lord,
We pray in humble guise
To give such heavenly gifts
Before our later eyes.
6.Fill consecrated breastsWith grace to keep Thy ways;Show us forgiveness now,And grant us quiet days.
6.Fill consecrated breasts
With grace to keep Thy ways;
Show us forgiveness now,
And grant us quiet days.
1.Jam meta noctis transiit,Somni quies jam praeteritAurora surgit fulgidaEt spargit coelum lux nova.
1.Jam meta noctis transiit,
Somni quies jam praeterit
Aurora surgit fulgida
Et spargit coelum lux nova.
2.Sed cum diei spiculumCernamus, hinc nos omniumAd te, superne Lucifer,Preces necesse est fundere.
2.Sed cum diei spiculum
Cernamus, hinc nos omnium
Ad te, superne Lucifer,
Preces necesse est fundere.
3.Te lucis sancte SpiritusEt caritatis actibusAd instar illud gloriaeNos innovatos effice.
3.Te lucis sancte Spiritus
Et caritatis actibus
Ad instar illud gloriae
Nos innovatos effice.
4.Praesta Pater piissimePatrique compar unice,Cum Spiritu paraclitoNunc et per omne saeculum.
4.Praesta Pater piissime
Patrique compar unice,
Cum Spiritu paraclito
Nunc et per omne saeculum.
1.The limit of the night is passed,The quiet hour of sleep has fled;Far up the lance of dawn is cast;New light upon the heaven is spread.
1.The limit of the night is passed,
The quiet hour of sleep has fled;
Far up the lance of dawn is cast;
New light upon the heaven is spread.
2.But when this sparkle of the dayOur eyes discern, then, Lord of light,To Thee our souls make haste to prayAnd offer all their wants aright.
2.But when this sparkle of the day
Our eyes discern, then, Lord of light,
To Thee our souls make haste to pray
And offer all their wants aright.
3.O Holy Spirit, by the deedsOf Thine own light and charity,Renew us through our earthly needsAnd cause us to be like to Thee.
3.O Holy Spirit, by the deeds
Of Thine own light and charity,
Renew us through our earthly needs
And cause us to be like to Thee.
4.Grant this, O Father ever blessed;And Holy Son, our heavenly friend;And Holy Ghost, Thou comfort best!Now and until all time shall end.
4.Grant this, O Father ever blessed;
And Holy Son, our heavenly friend;
And Holy Ghost, Thou comfort best!
Now and until all time shall end.
Contemporary with Hilary of Poitiers, but probably a younger man, as he survived him by seventeen years, was Damasus of Rome. Like many other Romans of the imperial period, he was a Spaniard by birth; or, at least, he was the son of a Spaniard who had removed to Rome and had become a deacon or presbyter of the church dedicated to the memory of the Roman martyr, St. Lawrence. Of his own earlier life we know very little. An extant epitaph records the fact that he had a sister who became a nun and died in her twentieth year. He himself served in the Church of St. Lawrence until his sixtieth year, when he was chosen Bishop of Rome; and in the accepted catalogue, which begins with the Apostle Peter, he ranks as the thirty-sixth bishop of the see.
He was chosen bishop inA.D.366, because of the position he had taken with reference to the controversy which then agitated the diocese, and because of the firmness and weight of character he had displayed in the troubles of the years before his election. The great Christological controversy was agitating the Church of both East and West. The West was substantially in agreement with Athanasius, against both the Arians and the semi-Arians, and would have been entirely so but for the influence exerted by semi-Arian or Arian emperors and the courtly bishops of their party. Constantius, the last surviving son of Constantine the Great, was exceedingly zealous for the semi-Arian doctrine, which rejected the statement of our Lord’s substantial identity with His Father, but was willing to assert His substantial likeness. It was only the difference of an iota in a Greek word—ὁμοουσιος or ὁμοιουσιος—but if there ever was a case in which neither jot nor tittle must be allowed to pass away, it was this.
Liberius, who was elected Bishop of Rome in 352, was the victim of Constantius’s policy. In 353 the East and West were unitedunder his rule, and that year at Arles, as in 355 at Milan, councils were called, in which the condemnation of Athanasius was procured by imperial blandishments. In the former the presbyter sent by Liberius to represent the Roman see subscribed with the majority. But in the second his three representatives obeyed their instructions, and accepted disfavor and exile rather than subscribe. Then Liberius himself was summoned to Milan, and the weight of imperial threats and persuasions was brought to bear upon him. He withstood both manfully, and demanded as a preliminary to any discussion of the charges against Athanasius, that the Nicene Creed should be subscribed by all parties, and the banished bishops returned to their sees. When given his choice between submission and exile, he chose the latter.
The Emperor now sought among the Roman clergy for a man to put into Liberius’s place. In Rome, as in most of the cities of the West, Arians were not to be found. But in the Deacon Felix the court party obtained a candidate who, while himself a Trinitarian, was willing to hold communion with the Arians, and presumably to condemn Athanasius. Of the details of his election and ordination little is known, but we find him installed in the Roman see with the vigorous support of the civil authority, although not with the assent of the Roman people. The great body of the Christians in Rome are said to have refused communion with him because he was tainted by communion with heretics; and when Constantius came to visit the city, he was besieged by the Christian ladies of the city with appeals for the restoration of Liberius.
In the mean time three years of exile to Thrace, where he was thrown of set purpose into constant association with bishops of the semi-Arian party, and isolated from his friends, had broken the spirit of Liberius. He was not a man of strong character, and, unfortunately for the theory of papal infallibility, he yielded. He signed a creed compiled for the occasion, which described Christ as oflikesubstance with the Father, and condemned Athanasius.[1]He then was allowed to return to Rome, although Felix II. was still the recognized bishop. Constantius seems to have foreseen the difficulties which would attend the presence of the two bishops in the city, and he consented to the return of Liberius unwillingly. The body of the people and of the clergy at once rallied around Liberius, and rejected Felix altogether; and of this party was Damasus. But while they were willing to condone his weakness in the matter of condemning Athanasius, there was a party of more determined Athanasians who refused to do so, and the diocese now was divided between the three factions. That of Felix disappeared with his own death in 360 and the death of Constantius in 361. But the extreme Athanasians, although they did not attempt to set up a rival bishop while Liberius lived, perpetuated their party, and they probably received aid and comfort from a similar party which had arisen in the East, in opposition to the wiser and more charitable policy of Athanasius himself. This party was called the Luciferians, from Lucifer, Bishop of Cagliari, in Sardinia, who was in exile in the East at the time when this question was raised there after the death of Constantius.
In 367 Liberius died, and the schism at once showed itself in Rome. Damasus was chosen and ordained bishop in the regular form by the friends of Liberius, who were the great majority. But the Deacon Ursicinus was chosen by the Luciferian party, and ordained by bishops of that party in the basilica of St. Sicinus. Unfortunately the prefect of the city was a weak and ineffective man, who was quite unable to preserve peace between the two factions. It soon came to blows between them, and the pagan historian, Ammianus Marcellinus, tells us with what result:
“Damasus and Ursinus being eager beyond measure to secure possession of the bishop’s seat, carried on the conflict most bitterly and with divisive partisanship, their supporters carrying their quarrels to the point of inflicting death and wounds. As Juventius was unable either to suppress or abate these evils, he yielded to the violence and withdrew to thesuburbs. And in the struggle Damasus overcame, as his party was the more determined of the two. It is admitted that in the basilica of Sicinus, which is a place of assemblage for Christian worship, there were found in one day one hundred and thirty-seven corpses of those who had been done to death; and also that the excitement of the populace abated slowly and with difficulty after the affair was over.”
“Damasus and Ursinus being eager beyond measure to secure possession of the bishop’s seat, carried on the conflict most bitterly and with divisive partisanship, their supporters carrying their quarrels to the point of inflicting death and wounds. As Juventius was unable either to suppress or abate these evils, he yielded to the violence and withdrew to thesuburbs. And in the struggle Damasus overcame, as his party was the more determined of the two. It is admitted that in the basilica of Sicinus, which is a place of assemblage for Christian worship, there were found in one day one hundred and thirty-seven corpses of those who had been done to death; and also that the excitement of the populace abated slowly and with difficulty after the affair was over.”
“See how these Christians love one another!” was a comment made by pagans on the spirit which had prevailed in the earlier Church. They now might have said it ironically. It is impossible to acquit Damasus of all responsibility in the matter, as he was a man of eminent ability and influence, and might have put an end to these scenes of violence if he had exerted his authority. It is equally impossible to believe that he took any part in them. Then, as in the Reformation times, what John Knox calls “the raskill multitude” greatly enjoyed an opportunity to show how great their zeal for religion, in any other shape but that of obeying its precepts. “Set Jehu to pulling down idols,” said an old Puritan, “and see how zealous he can be.”
The schism did not end with the bloody struggle around the basilica of St. Sicinus. It is true that the civil authority now interposed and banished the bishop of the Luciferian party. But he afterward was allowed to return, and again the troubles revived and ceased only with his second banishment. Even when the Emperor Gratian gave Damasus the entire jurisdiction over the bishops and priests involved in the schism, with a view to the final suppression of these disputes, the extremists lingered on. After Ursicinus there was yet another Luciferian bishop of Rome; and by a curious freak of controversial zeal the memory of Felix was consecrated as that of an opponent of Liberius, and a mythical account of their relations was given currency, which has resulted in the elevation of Felix to the rank of “pope and martyr,” on the ground that Constantius had him beheaded for his loyalty to the Nicene faith![2]
Damasus made an excellent record in his see, after the abating of the troubles which attended his accession to it. He left no room for doubt as to his orthodoxy. For the first time since the great controversy broke out in Alexandria, the whole weight and influence of the great Roman see was thrown unreservedly and effectively on the Athanasian side. The accession of Valentinian (364-75) to the imperial authority in the West once more threw the weight of court influence on the other side; but intolerance was not carried to the same extent as by Constantius. At every stage of the discussion we find Damasus outspoken on behalf of the Nicene faith, and in support of Athanasius. In 368 he held a synod at Rome, in which the Illyrian bishops Ursacius and Valens, who were trying to Arianize the West, were condemned as heretics; and in 370 another in which the same condemnation was meted out to Auxentius, the Bishop of Milan. Before he died he saw the second General Council meet at Constantinople and lay the ban of the Church on all the compromises with Arianism.
The see of Rome already had become a place of great splendor and influence. “Make me Bishop of Rome,” the pagan senator Praetextatus said to him, “and I will be a Christian to-morrow.” Damasus seems to have enjoyed the pomp and show and opportunities for outlay and for influence which his position secured him. But there was much in his administration of his diocese which commends him to our sympathies and even our admiration. He seems to have been the first to have taken a genuine interest in the Catacombs—the great underground burial-places which are so rich in memorials of the Church’s primitive and martyr ages. He fostered their use as places of pilgrimage and reunion for the people of his own diocese and pilgrims from others. He constructed the staircases which made them accessible, the well-lights for their illumination and ventilation, and the chapels for collective worship. Here Christendom, in the day of its triumph, gathered to commemorate those who had been faithful when the Church was under the cross, and Prudentius in hisPeristephanonhas left us a lively picture of the eager multitudes who resortedthither on the festival days, some from Rome itself, others from the Etrurian and Sabine villages, thronging even the great roads to the city to their utmost capacity: “From early morn they press thither to greet the saints. The multitude comes and goes until evening. They kiss the polished plates of silver which cover the grave of the martyr. They offer incense, and tears of emotion stream from the eyes of all.”
When, after long centuries of forgetfulness, the Catacombs were reopened in 1578 by Antonio Bosio, traces of these pilgrimages were found in thegraffitior rude chalk-inscriptions left on the walls of the passages by the Italian peasants of the fourth and fifth centuries. There also were found the inscriptions in verse, composed by Damasus, and cut in stone by his friend, Furius Filocalus, who devised an ornamental alphabet for the purpose. In one of these Filocalus describes himself as one who “reverenced and loved Pope Damasus” (Damasi papae cultor atque amator).
Another side of his activity has been brought into light by more recent researches in Rome. Professor Lanciani says that to Damasus belongs also the honor of having founded the first public library of Christendom: “The finest libraries of the first centuries of Christendom were, of course, in Rome.... Such was the importance attributed to books in those early days of our faith that, in Christian basilicas, or places of worship, they were kept in the place of honor—next to the episcopal chair. Many of the basilicas which we discover from time to time, especially in the Campagna, have theapse trichora—that is, divided into three small hemicycles. The reason of this peculiar form was long sought in vain; but a recent discovery made at Hispalis proves that of the three hemicycles the central one contained the tribunal or episcopal chair, the one on the right the sacred implements, the one on the left the sacred books.
“The first building erected in Rome, under the Christian rule, for the study and preservation of books and documents, was theArchivum(Archives) of Pope Damasus. This just and enterprising pope, the last representative of good old Roman traditions as regards the magnificence and usefulness of his public structures, modelled his establishment on the pattern of the typical library at Pergamos; of which the Palatine Library in Rome had been the worthy rival. He began by raising in the centre a hall of basilicaltype, which he dedicated to St. Lawrence,” and which “was surrounded by a square portico, into which opened the rooms or cells containing the various departments of the archives and of the library.” A commemorative inscription, composed by Damasus himself, in hexameters, seven in number, was set in front of the building above the main entrance. The text has been discovered in aMS.formerly at Heidelberg, now in the Vatican. The first four hexameters do not bring out in a good light the poetical faculties of the worthy pontiff—in fact their real meaning has not yet been ascertained; but the last three verses are more intelligible:
‘Archibis, fateor, volui nova condere tecta;Addere praeterea dextra laevaque columnas,Quae Damasi teneant proprium per saecula nomen.’
‘Archibis, fateor, volui nova condere tecta;
Addere praeterea dextra laevaque columnas,
Quae Damasi teneant proprium per saecula nomen.’
“Around the apse of the inner hall there was another distich of about the same poetical value, the text of which has been discovered in aMS.at Verdun:
‘Haec Damasi tibi, Christe Deus, nova tecta levaviLaurenti saeptus martyris auxilio.’
‘Haec Damasi tibi, Christe Deus, nova tecta levavi
Laurenti saeptus martyris auxilio.’
“Mention of Damasus’s Archives is frequently made in the documents of the fourth and fifth centuries. Jerome calls themchartarium ecclesiae Romanae.”[3]
But a still more lasting monument of his fame is the Latin Vulgate, which he incited Jerome—as the English-speaking world calls Sophronius Eusebius Hieronymus—to prepare for the Church of the West. From a very early time Latin translations of the Scriptures from the Greek version of the Old Testament and the Greek original of the New Testament had been in existence. But although there were two well recognized types of these early versions—the Italian and the African—there was so little uniformity that there were “almost as many versions as copies.” Jerome was a man of classical culture and a close student of the Scriptures, which he could read in Hebrew as well as in Greek and Latin. He came to Rome from Syria in 382, to ask the aid of Damasus in behalf of the Luciferian schism at Antioch—a matter in which the Bishop of Rome hardly could meddle. Even before hisarrival he had been in correspondence with Damasus and had written for him an exposition of the vision of the Seraphim in Isaiah 6. Damasus called a synod in which the schism at Antioch was discussed, but no result reached. It is said that in this synod he exhorted Jerome to take up the work of giving the Church a good Latin version of the Bible. A ninth-century writer says he put him in charge of theArchivum, or public library, described by Professor Lanciani. Later writers speak of him, without much warrant, as Damasus’s secretary. It seems probable that Damasus regarded him as a desirable man for the bishopric when his own death should leave it vacant. But when his death came in 384, the Dalmatian scholar was passed over, perhaps because he was not a Roman, and a much smaller man than either Damasus or Jerome was chosen instead. So Jerome went back to the East and established himself at Bethlehem. Between 382 and 404 he completed his version of the Scriptures, which is of especial importance to the student of Latin hymnology, as it stands in much the same relation to the Latin hymns of the fifth and later centuries as does the English Bible to the English hymn-writers. It controls their vocabulary and explains their allusions.
As a poet Damasus does not take very high rank. We have seen Professor Lanciani’s opinion of his inscriptions. Some forty poems are attributed to him, but only a very few of these concern us here. In the CottonianMSS.there is a copy of rhymed “Verses of Damasus to his Friend” (Versus Damasi ad Amicum suum), which would be interesting to us if we were sure that Sir Alexander Croke is right in assuming that this is our Damasus. But the name “Rainalde” in the first line would hardly occur in a Latin poem by a Roman author of the fourth century.
There is no reason, however, to call in question the two hymns—one to the Martyr Agatha and the other to the Apostle Andrew—which are ascribed to him in the collections. And the former is especially remarkable as being the oldest hymn in which rhyme is employed intentionally and throughout. Of course if it were true that Hilary wrote theJesu refulsit omniumor theJesu quadrigenariae, which sometimes are printed as his, we should be obliged to assign to him the honor thus claimed for Damasus. But the preponderance of evidence and of presumption is against ascribing these hymns to him. Koch assigns the latter to the fifth centuryand not to the fourth. Mone ascribes the former to one of the early Irish hymn-writers, whose name is lost to us. He finds in it a tendency to alliterative construction, which indicates either Celtic or Teutonic authorship; and he is decided for the former by the mixture of Greek words, which was a favorite practice with the Irish hymn writers. Also the metrical form is one affected by them. On these grounds it is fair to claim that the hymn of Damasus marks the introduction of end-rhymes into the Latin hymns.
Rhyme was by no means unknown in the poetry of the Greeks and the Romans. But in languages which occupied that stage of grammatical development in which the relations of words are expressed by terminations, the resemblances in these were so numerous and so constant that rhyme must have appeared rather a cheap form for poetry. So in this stage we find the Southern Aryans of Europe employing the quantity of syllables and those of Northern Europe the coincidences of initial sounds (stabreimor alliteration) and assonance in their verse. It was when the development of languages substituted auxiliary and connecting words for terminations that the coincidences of final sounds became so much a source of pleasure to the ear as to justify their continuous employment for that purpose.
But besides the occasional occurrence of rhyme in classic poetry—as in Virgil’s famousjeu d’ esprit,
“Sic vos non vobis edificatis aves,” etc.—
“Sic vos non vobis edificatis aves,” etc.—
there seems to have existed forms of popular Latin verse in which rhyme and accent held the place which quantity held in classic poetry. It is this popular form of verse which the Church’s hymns began to reproduce, just as they also in many cases are written in thatlingua rustica, or countrified speech of the peasantry of Italy and France, which was to become the basis of the Romance languages. It is a matter of dispute whether the Saturnian verse-form, to whose early prevalence and prolonged existence among the classes not pervaded by Greek culture Horace alludes, was based on an accentual scansion or merely on a numbering of syllables and a rude approach to quantity. The general consensus of scholars is that the Saturnian metres were based on accent, andthat rhyme, which is the natural and invariable product of the accentual scansion, was also in use.[4]
So this hidden current of rhymed and accented poetry of the common people rose to light again after many ages in the hymns of the Western Church. Thus Damasus brings us to the parting of the ways. In Hilary, Ambrose and his school, Prudentius, Ennodius, Fortunatus, Elpis, Gregory, and Bede we have the perpetuation of the classic tradition of quantitative verse in the service of Christendom and for the ear of the cultivated classes. And while that tradition expires in the Middle Ages, we see it revive again in the sacred poets of the Renaissance—in Zacharius Ferrari, George Fabricius, Marcus Antonius Muretus, Famiano Strada and the other revisers of the Roman Breviary, the two Santeuls in the Breviary of Clugny, and Charles Coffin in the Paris Breviary. But Damasus stands at the head of a still more illustrious line. Catching, perhaps, from the Etruscan and Sabine peasants, who thronged the Catacombs on the day when the Martyr Agatha was commemorated, the accents of the popular poetry, he became the founder of the tradition which lives in the broader current of Latin sacred song. In this line of succession we find already a few of the Ambrosian hymns, and then a long series in which the two Bernards, Adam of St. Victor, Thomas of Celano, Thomas Aquinas, and Bonaventura are the most illustrious names. And as indeed the tradition of accent and rhyme seems to have made its way into the literature of the modern world through the Latin hymns, Dante and all the great poets who have illustrated its power to give pleasure might be said to belong here.
The hymn in commemoration of the Martyr Agatha—whose story of suffering and triumph had seized on the imagination of the people as did those of the martyrs Cecilia and Sebastian—wegive with the English version of the Rev. J. Anketell, which he has kindly permitted us to use.
Martyris ecce dies AgathaeVirginis emicat eximiae,Christus eam Sibi qua sociat,Et diadema duplex decorat.
Martyris ecce dies Agathae
Virginis emicat eximiae,
Christus eam Sibi qua sociat,
Et diadema duplex decorat.
Stirpe decens, elegans specie,Sed magis actibus atque fide:Terrea prospera nil reputansJussa Dei sibi corde ligans.
Stirpe decens, elegans specie,
Sed magis actibus atque fide:
Terrea prospera nil reputans
Jussa Dei sibi corde ligans.
Fortior haec trucibusque virisExposuit sua membra flagris,Pectore quam fuerit validoTorta mamilla docet patulo.
Fortior haec trucibusque viris
Exposuit sua membra flagris,
Pectore quam fuerit valido
Torta mamilla docet patulo.
Deliciae cui carcer erat,Pastor ovem Petrus hanc recreat,Laetior inde magisque flagransCuncta flagella cucurrit ovans.
Deliciae cui carcer erat,
Pastor ovem Petrus hanc recreat,
Laetior inde magisque flagrans
Cuncta flagella cucurrit ovans.
Ethnica turba rogum fugiens,Hujus et ipsa meretur opem:Quos fidei titulus decorat,His Venerem magis ipsa premat.
Ethnica turba rogum fugiens,
Hujus et ipsa meretur opem:
Quos fidei titulus decorat,
His Venerem magis ipsa premat.
Jam renitens quasi sponsa polo,Pro misero rogitet Damaso,Sic sua festa coli faciat,Se celebrantibus ut faveat.
Jam renitens quasi sponsa polo,
Pro misero rogitet Damaso,
Sic sua festa coli faciat,
Se celebrantibus ut faveat.
Gloria cum Patre sit Genito,Spirituique proinde sacro,Qui Deus unus et omnipotensHanc nostri faciat memorem.
Gloria cum Patre sit Genito,
Spirituique proinde sacro,
Qui Deus unus et omnipotens
Hanc nostri faciat memorem.
Fair as the morn in the deep blushing East,Dawns the bright day of Saint Agatha’s feast;Christ who has borne her from labor to rest,Crowns her as Virgin and Martyr most blest.
Fair as the morn in the deep blushing East,
Dawns the bright day of Saint Agatha’s feast;
Christ who has borne her from labor to rest,
Crowns her as Virgin and Martyr most blest.
Noble by birth and of beautiful face,Richer by far in her deeds and her grace,Earth’s fleeting honors and gains she despised,God’s holy will and commandments she prized.
Noble by birth and of beautiful face,
Richer by far in her deeds and her grace,
Earth’s fleeting honors and gains she despised,
God’s holy will and commandments she prized.
Braver and nobler than merciless foes,Willing her limbs to the scourge to expose;Weakly she sank not by anguish oppressed,When cruel torture destroyed her fair breast.
Braver and nobler than merciless foes,
Willing her limbs to the scourge to expose;
Weakly she sank not by anguish oppressed,
When cruel torture destroyed her fair breast.
Then her dark dungeon was filled with delight,Peter the shepherd refreshed her by night;Forth to her tortures rejoicing she went,Thanking her God for the trials he sent.
Then her dark dungeon was filled with delight,
Peter the shepherd refreshed her by night;
Forth to her tortures rejoicing she went,
Thanking her God for the trials he sent.
Barbarous pagans, escaping their doom,Honor her virtues that brighten their gloom;They whom the title of faith hath adorned,Like her, earth’s possessions and pleasures have scorned.
Barbarous pagans, escaping their doom,
Honor her virtues that brighten their gloom;
They whom the title of faith hath adorned,
Like her, earth’s possessions and pleasures have scorned.
Radiant and glorious, a heavenly bride,She to the Lord for the wretched hath cried;So in her honor your praises employ,That ye too may share in her triumph and joy.
Radiant and glorious, a heavenly bride,
She to the Lord for the wretched hath cried;
So in her honor your praises employ,
That ye too may share in her triumph and joy.
Praise to the Father and praise to the Son,Praise to the Spirit, the blest Three in One;God of all might in Heaven’s glory arrayed,Praise for thy grace in thy servant displayed.
Praise to the Father and praise to the Son,
Praise to the Spirit, the blest Three in One;
God of all might in Heaven’s glory arrayed,
Praise for thy grace in thy servant displayed.
It will be observed that Mr. Anketell, in the second line of the sixth verse, follows the reading preferred by Daniel:Pro miseris supplica Domino, which omits the Pope’s name. But it seems much more unlikely that this line should be altered to the line as given above, than that the contrary change should have been made. Emendators generally pass from the concrete to the vague, from the specific to the general.
It would appear that the Ambrosian hymns obtained much of their earliest recognition in Spain. At least so runs the statement of Cardinal Thomasius, who edited the Mozarabic (Spanish) Breviary. He says: “It is not doubtful that in the seventh century of the Church, when the Spanish Church especially flourished, the Ambrosian hymns were everywhere in vogue.” TheConcilium Agathense(Council of Agde in Southern France,A.D.506), which concerned itself chiefly with matters of discipline, ordained that hymns should be sung morning and evening, and at the conclusion of matins, vespers, and masses. These and similar enactments had reference to the body of hymns which had received the name of the Bishop of Milan. Then, as now, they formed the true fragrant cedar-heart of the old psalmody, and it is from their structure that the Council of Toledo (633) drew its famous definition. The Council said: “Proprie autem hymni sunt continentes laudem Dei. Si ergo sit laus, et non sit Dei, non est hymnus. Si sit et laus Dei laus[sic]et non cantatur non est hymnus. Si ergo laudem Dei dicitur et cantatur, tunc est hymnus.” That is to say: “Hymns properly contain the praise of God. If therefore there be praise, but not of God, this is no hymn. If there be praise, praise of God, but not capable of being sung, this is no hymn. If therefore the praise of God be both composed and sung, it is then a hymn.”
The author who is thus honored as the first great leader of the Church’s praise was born at Treves, in Gaul, about the year 340 (or, as some say, 334). His father was a Roman noble who became praetorian prefect of the province of Gallia Narbonensis; and as Hither Gaul was an important region, it can be easily seen that the young Ambrose was reared in the midst of wealth and power. His mother was a learned woman and he naturally imbibed letters as he grew up. A tradition, which is probably basedon fact, assures us that even in his cradle he was marked for fame. A swarm of bees came down upon him, and the amazed nurse saw them clustered about his very mouth without harming him. This was the same prodigy which had been related of Plato, and hence his parents imagined a high destiny for the lad. It was indeed a singular and suggestive commentary on his future life. He preserved his equanimity amid a great deal of buzzing; and the sweetness of his speech won to him no less a convert than the great Augustine. His entire career was worthy of the sainted Sotheria, his ancestress, who was martyred for the faith under Diocletian.
He appears to us a man of both character and conscience. His education was given him at Rome, and his brother Satyrus and himself went to Milan to practice at the bar. His success as a pleader was great. He became first assessor to the prefect with the rank ofConsularis, whose headquarters were now at Milan; and subsequently he took charge of Liguria and Emilia. For in 369 we find him, by appointment of the Emperor Valentinian, prefect of Upper Italy and Milan. His position is sometimes styled that of “consular,” sometimes that of “governor,” and sometimes that of “praetor” or imperial president, which last perhaps the easiest designation for modern ears and carries the plainest meaning with it.
Now Milan was the capital of Liguria and it was the business of the praetor to preside in the stead of the Emperor over the choice of a bishop. Auxentius, an Arian, who had held this office, died in 374 and a new election was necessary. This was not an easy matter, for the feud between the Catholics and the Arians was at fever-heat, and rioting and bloodshed were very certain to occur.
The praetor called to mind the advice of Probus, prefect of Italy, who had once charged him to administer the affairs of his region “like a bishop.” He therefore tried to cast oil upon the waters. His genial gravity and calm serenity of spirit aided the impression he meant to produce. Both factions gazed upon him with delight. His attitude was so unpartisan as to charm everybody, and it was very natural that this eloquent representative of the Emperor should carry the suffrages of the throng. And just when the interest was most intense and the confidence greatest, a child criedout, “Let Ambrose be bishop,” and the crowd caught the contagion at once.
In later days it was maliciously said that Ambrose had himself contrived this scene with an eye to the stage effect—that for all his apparent humility the coming bishop set store by the office and wanted to obtain it—that, in short, his reluctance to receive it and even his precipitate flight from the city were prearranged! More than this, it has been asserted that the various schemes and subterfuges to avoid becoming bishop were known to and abetted by his friends, who were of the orthodox party and desired to have their candidate elected. The best reply that can be given is the character of the man himself. Such a person must have entertained the highest reverence for such an office. In his administration of its cares and duties he showed a conscious supremacy over every worldly consideration. In his final acceptance of it he evinced no less of self-denial than of sincerity. And it is incredible that so mighty a mind as that of Augustine could have been caught by the glittering emptiness of a hypocritical or self-seeking nature. We may well charge these calumnies to their proper sources—those, namely, of disappointed ambition or of envious malignity.
The record of this endeavor to escape office reads singularly enough. He first put some criminals to the torture, hoping by this means to shock the people through his hard-hearted justice. When this would not do he avowed philosophic rather than Christian sentiments. Having again failed, he welcomed some very profligate persons—men and women—to his palace in a way to invite scandal. This expedient being also detected he actually escaped from the city by night, but lost his way and found himself in front of the gates when morning dawned. This being his fourth unavailing effort, he fled to a friend’s house in the country, begging that he might lie hidden there until the first rush of feeling had been stemmed and he could hope for calmer consideration of his refusal. But the friend immediately betrayed him for his own good, and this well-meant treachery fastened the mitre firmly on his brow. Basil the Great gloried in this new coadjutor; and at the age of thirty-four or thereabouts, he himself became convinced that he could struggle no longer against his fate.
It was thus that Ambrose finally assumed the episcopate, and it was soon evident that this catechumen—for he had not even beenpreviously baptized—respected its dignities and meant that others should be of the same mind as himself. He gave up his private fortune, selling his large estates and personal property, and reserving from them only a proper allowance to his sister Marcellina, who had early taken the vow of virginity. He associated with this proceeding the most strict method of living. “He accepted no invitations to banquets; took dinner only on Sunday, Saturday, and the festivals of celebrated martyrs; devoted the greater part of the night to prayer, to the hitherto necessarily neglected study of the Scriptures and the Greek fathers and to theological writing; preached every Sunday and often in the week; was accessible to all, most accessible to the poor and needy; and administered his spiritual oversight, particularly his instruction of catechumens, with the greatest fidelity.”
This is the character, admirably condensed, of a model bishop. To its fulfilment it requires the fervent piety of a true Christian and the constant zeal of an acute student together with the large prudence of a man of affairs. All these are abundantly found in Ambrose. And if it happened that in other and worse times his assertion of the spiritual independence of a bishop gave a foundation for what became the authority of the pope, it may be properly retorted that for him not to have done so then would have prevented many another better thing in later ages.
He was a more polished scholar than Hilary, and a more devout Christian than Damasus. Hence it was that his energy and skill contributed largely to the success of the Nicene orthodoxy in the West. Those times were troublous, and a cheerful and sunshiny temper like that of Ambrose was a vast auxiliary to the cause. He had been consecrated in 374, eight days after his election; and in 382 he presided at the synod in Aquileia which deposed Palladius and Secundianus, the Arian bishops. By so doing, and by his general attitude, he incurred the anger of Justina, whose son, the younger Valentinian, he always upheld and shielded. The Empress, however, determined to deal with him a good deal as Ahab’s wife dealt with Elijah. This comparison takes additional point from the use which Ambrose himself made of the story of Naboth in his defence of the Portian Church.
He had already encountered the smouldering idolatry of old Rome, headed by the rhetorician, Symmachus; but the eloquenceof Ambrose had borne down all opposition and that conflict was now at an end. A vindictive woman was, however, a greater danger than a clever orator, and he found this true when Justina, the Empress-mother, allied herself with the heretical Arians. His pious zeal was kindled in a moment. Give up churches to such a schismatic set as these?Never!
It was at Easter in the year 386 that the Portian Church and its holy vessels were demanded for the use of the other party. Then stood up both the old Roman and the new Christian in the single person of the Bishop of Milan. He compared the demand to that of Ahab for Naboth’s vineyard; and it may well be supposed that with the rush of such a torrent of speech a current of inference was also borne along which involved Justina herself. The sermon, which has survived to us, was preached on Palm Sunday, and in it he said that he would hold every religious edifice against heresy to the very death. Let them take his property; let them depose or destroy himself; let them do their worst—but for his part he would stand there unshaken for the truth. He would not incite riot and confusion, but he would not yield. It was the anticipation of Luther’s “Hier stehe ich, ich kann nicht anders! Gott helfe mir!” For Ambrose proclaimed, almost in these actual words, “Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise. God help me!”
He made one magnificent point in this discourse—the focal centre it was of the entire outburst of eloquent declamation. It was when he quoted what our Lord Himself had said. “Yes,” cries Ambrose, “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, but give to God what is God’s. Is the Church the property of Caesar? Never! It belongs unalterably to God. For God, then, it shall be kept. It shall never be surrendered to Caesar.”
The fight was really a siege. The sacred character of the churches protected their defenders. Ambrose invigorated the multitude who flocked to help him, and who organized relief parties to keep possession by day and by night. To relieve the monotony of their watches, he frequently addressed them words of encouragement. His fine equanimity triumphed over the impending disaster. He taught the people there and then the hymns of the early Church. He composed tunes and instructed them in singing. And when at last he was able to discover the bodies ofGervasius and Protasius, the ancient martyrs, he kindled in the spirits of his hearers such a fire that the popular voice was heeded even by the throne itself, and Justina was defeated and gave up the struggle. The court actually retreated before the authority of the Church. And from that moment, and that other memorable moment when he arraigned Theodosius, Ambrose delivered the power of the bishop’s crozier from any interference coming from the Emperor’s sceptre. Those were the days when the pastoral staff might be of wood, but the man who wielded it was of pure gold.
This account needs the story of Theodosius to be immediately attached to it in order to make it stand out in its true relation to the character of Ambrose. The bishop met three great enemies during his career. First appeared Idolatry, championed by Symmachus; then followed Heresy, championed by Justina; and now came Despotism, behind which stood the beloved Theodosius, the Emperor-pupil, with his hands red from the massacre of Thessalonica. The facts were these: a tumult had arisen in the circus at that place; Botheric, an imperial officer, had been killed; and the Emperor had in revenge put very many people to death. Some have even run the figures up to the incredible altitude of thirty thousand, and the massacre has been always regarded as involving seven thousand victims at the lowest estimate. It was a brutal and a horrible act, and Ambrose came out as Nathan did before David and denounced it with the most withering reproaches. The Emperor cowered and bent before this sirocco of the truth. The speaker was poised so high above him in the assured calm of a steady rectitude that Theodosius could do nothing except yield. And yield he did; and for eight months he paid penance before he was restored. It was the penance of the German Henry which hastened the Reformation; it was the humiliation of Theodosius which preserved both rights and dignities to the Church.
There is another side of Ambrose, and one on which Protestants will love to dwell. While his great disciple Augustine lent the weight of his authority to the doctrine that civil constraint might be used to bring men to orthodox beliefs, Ambrose always denounced that. When Valentinian II. sent him to Trier to negotiate with the rebel Maximus, in the winter of 383-84, Ambrose—like his contemporary, Martin of Tours—refused to have anycommunion with the bishops who recognized Maximus as Emperor, not on political grounds, but because they had obtained the execution of certain Spanish Priscillianists for heresy. This was the first blood-stain on the white garments of the Church—the first in the long line of such sins against the Word and Spirit of Christ. Yet Adrian VI. appealed to it as a precedent against Luther, and described the usurper as one of “the ancient and pious emperors.” In this he followed the example of his infallible predecessor, Leo I., who, in 447, declared there would be an end of all law, human and divine, if such heretics were allowed to live!
As an orator and writer, Ambrose’s strength lay in the simple direct plunge of his sentences, wide and grand and forceful as the launching of a great bowlder down a mountain path. And Mr. Simcox has noticed that the words which are used to describe his rhetorical power are almost all derived fromeloqui. The other assemblage of expressions, drawn fromdisertusand the like, refer to the logical or learned weight of an argument. But what struck every one in the case of Ambrose was that he let the truth come mightily, just as he felt and believed it, with a swing and a vigor which was the outburst of his own majestic soul. It was this which won his victories. It was this power of sincerity which made him the counsellor of Theodosius and the instructor of Gratian as well as the guardian of Valentinian II. It was this unshrinking forwardness of movement which led him to oppose the rebuilding of the Jews’ synagogue; they had denied the Lord Jesus—let their house burn! But a victory more Christian was gained when thirty days of respite were fixed by his intercession between the sentence and execution of criminals. And although the defence of “Virginity,” as Ambrose conducted it, was the mainspring of the conventual idea, and was afterward vigorously used for that purpose, it is again plain that he advocated what he believed and what he himself devoutly practised. He shines upon us, from every angle of vision, as a character most pure, serene, and brave.
The siege in the basilica at Milan had an important bearing on the whole future of the Christian Church. Augustine tells us how his mother Monica had followed him to Milan, and how when there “she hastened the more eagerly to the church and hungupon the lips of Ambrose.” (Aug. Conf., B. vi.) “That man,” he continues, “she loved as an angel of God because she knew that by him I had been brought to that doubtful state of faith I now was in.” She evidently anticipated that so eloquent a preacher would complete the work that he had been permitted to begin. As for Augustine himself, he felt “shut out both from his ear and speech by multitudes of busy people whose weaknesses he served.”
How finely, by the way, this very expression illustrates the greatness of Ambrose’s character and the unselfishness of his life! We get also a picture of the man as a student—one whose voice would become worn by any extended public speaking, and who therefore read to himself in his private studies in a manner unusual apparently in that age—namely, as we do now, without opening his lips or articulating the words. The effect of Justina’s persecution is also given most graphically. (Aug. Conf., B. ix.) For Augustine, having first told us how these heavenly voices fell upon his ear, says that his mother “bore a chief part of those anxieties and watchings” and “lived for prayer.” At this date, he emphatically declares, “it was first instituted that after the manner of the Eastern churches, hymns and psalms should be sung lest the people should wax faint through the tediousness of sorrow; and from that day to this the custom is retained, divers (yea, almost all) congregations throughout other parts of the world following herein.” It is he, moreover, who tells us that the two martyrs’ bodies were transferred to that Ambrosian church erected in 387, and where afterward were placed the bones of its great founder; which was spared by Barbarossa in 1162, and which, as the church of San Ambrogio, still occupies its old site in Milan. Thus we have the most important of contemporary testimony to some of these troublous scenes.
Of the Ambrosian hymns themselves a great deal may be said. It is better to confine one’s self rather, therefore, to results than to the long processes which have led thither. But it is impossible to agree with Dr. Neale and Archbishop Trench, who say of them that “there is a certain coldness in them—an aloofness of the author from his subject.” This is one of those bits of critical misapprehension which lead us to doubt the infallibility of even so admirable a judgment as that of the warden of Sackville College.The truth is that Dr. Neale admired gorgeousness and the splendor of ritual. He praises thePange linguaof Aquinas altogether too much and he praises Ambrose altogether too little. A simple and reverent spirit cannot be said to experience, as he does, a “feeling of disappointment” before this which he calls “an altar of unhewn stone.” This single phrase exposes the delusion. “Unhewnstone” is not to Dr. Neale’s nor to Archbishop Trench’s churchly taste, while it is precisely upon such an altar as that (Ex. 20:25) that God was ready to let His flame descend. The latest judgment—that of Mr. Simcox—(Latin Literature, vol. ii., 405) is decidedly preferable: “They all have the character of deep, spontaneous feeling, flowing in a clear, rhythmical current, and show a more genuine literary feeling than the prose works.” To any one who is at all familiar with the Ambrosian hymns this will at once commend itself as the better criticism.
We may pause a moment to inquire about the chants which bear his name, but we shall have slight enough information. Four tunes are traditional: the Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, and Mixed Lydian. What these were and how they were sung, we do not accurately know. We do know, however, that Ambrose employed but four notes (thetetrachord) where we have subdivided the various tones into the octave. The Germans do not profess to tell us anything more definite than this.
The actual hymns are to be reckoned up in several ways. First comes the mass ofAmbrosiani, including hymns of Gregory the Great and of other and much later authors. Many have been foisted into this category because they were found in old breviaries and manuscripts. Then from these we may separate thepresumed originals—of which a large proportion are now known to belong to other writers. These misapprehensions are due to such compilers as Fabricius, Cassander, Clichtove, and Thomasius, who were not invariably correct and who perpetuated their designations through later works. Still a third class are thepossible originals, selected by the judicious but not always accurate zeal of the Benedictines of St. Maur when they edited the collected works of the great bishop. And last of all can be placed theprobable originals—those hymns which are authenticated by Augustine and by St. Caelestin (A.D.430), together with those in structure closely resembling them.