The Age of Reason by D. J. Medley (heaven official's blessing novel english TXT) 📖

of the Church in order to remove the taint. Hence, at best, the temporal power is subject to the ecclesiastical: it is merely a means for working out the higher purpose entrusted to the Church. Pope Gregory VII goes farther still in depreciation of the temporal power. He declares roundly that it is the work of sin and the devil. "Who does not know," he writes, "that kings and dukes have derived their power from those who, ignoring God, in their blind desire and intolerable presumption have aspired to rule over their equals, that is, men, by pride, plunder, perfidy, murder, in short by every kind of wickedness, at the instigation of the prince of this world, namely, the devil?" But in this he is only re-echoing the teaching of St. Augustine; and he is followed, among other representative writers, by John of Salisbury, the secretary and champion of Thomas Becket, and by Pope Innocent III. To all three there is an instructive contrast between a power divinely conferred and one that has at the best been wrested from God by human importunity.

[Sidenote: Illustration of relations.]

There are two illustrations of the relation between the spiritual and secular powers very common among papal writers. Gregory VII, at the beginning of his reign, compares them to the two eyes in a man's head. But he soon substitutes for this symbol of theoretical equality a comparison to the sun and moon, or to the soul and body, whereby he claims for the spiritual authority, as represented by the soul or the sun, the operative and illuminating power in the world, without and apart from which the temporal authority has no efficacy and scarcely any existence. An illustration equally common, but susceptible of more diverse interpretation, was drawn from the two swords offered to our Lord by His disciples just before the betrayal. It was St. Bernard who, taking up the idea of previous writers that these represented the sword of the flesh and the sword of the spirit respectively, first claimed that they both belonged to the Church, but that, while the latter was wielded immediately by St. Peter's successor, the injunction to the Apostle to put up in its sheath the sword of the flesh which he had drawn in defence of Christ, merely indicated that he was not to handle it himself. Consequently he had entrusted to lay hands this sword which denotes the temporal power. Both swords, however, still belonged to the Pope and typified his universal control. By virtue of his possession of the spiritual sword he can use spiritual means for supervising or correcting all secular acts. But although he should render to Caesar what is Caesar's, yet his material power over the temporal sword also justifies the Pope in intervening in temporal matters when necessity demands. This is the explanation of the much debated Translatio Imperii, the transference of the imperial authority in 800 A.D. from the Greeks to the Franks. It is the Emperor to whom, in the first instance, the Pope has entrusted the secular sword; he is, in feudal phraseology, merely the chief vassal of the Pope. It is the unction and coronation of the Emperor by the Pope which confer the imperial power upon the Emperor Elect. The choice by the German nobles is a papal concession which may be recalled at any time. Hence, if the imperial throne is vacant, if there is a disputed election, or if the reigning Emperor is neglectful of his duties, it is for the Pope to act as guardian or as judge; and, of course, the powers which he can exercise in connection with the Empire he is still more justified in using against any lesser temporal prince.

[Sidenote: Theory of Imperial party.]

To this very thorough presentation of the claims of the ecclesiastical power the partisans of secular authority had only a half-hearted doctrine to oppose. Ever since the days of Pope Gelasius I (492-6), the Church herself had accepted the view of a strict dualism in the organisation of society and, therefore, of the theoretical equality between the ecclesiastical and the secular organs of government. According to this doctrine Sacerdotium and Imperium are independent spheres, each wielding the one of the two swords appropriate to itself, and thus the Emperor no less than the Pope is Vicarius Dei. It is this doctrine behind which the champions of the Empire entrench themselves in their contest with the Papacy. It was asserted by the Emperors themselves, notably by Frederick I and Frederick II, and it has been enshrined in the writings of Dante.

[Sidenote: Its weakness.]

The weak point of this theory was that it was rather a thesis for academic debate than a rallying cry for the field of battle. Popular contests are for victory, not for delimitation of territory. And its weakness was apparent in this, that while the thorough-going partisans of the Church allowed to the Emperor practically no power except such as he obtained by concession of or delegation from the Church, the imperial theory granted to the ecclesiastical representative at least an authority and independence equal to those claimed for itself, and readily admitted that of the two powers the Church could claim the greater respect as being entrusted with the conduct of matters that were of more permanent importance.

Moreover, historical facts contradicted this idea of equality of powers. The Church through her representatives often interfered with decisive effect in the election and the rejection of secular potentates up to the Emperor himself: she claimed that princes were as much subject to her jurisdiction as other laymen, and she did not hesitate to make good that claim even to the excommunication of a refractory ruler and—its corollary—the release of his subjects from their oath of allegiance. Finally, the Church awoke a responsive echo in the hearts of all those liable to oppression or injustice, when she asserted a right of interposing in purely secular matters for the sake of shielding them from wrong; while she met a real need of the age in her exaltation of the papal power as the general referee in all cases of difficult or doubtful jurisdiction.

Thus the claims of each power as against the other were not at all commensurate. For while the imperialists would agree that there was a wide sphere of ecclesiastical rule with which the Emperor had no concern at all, it was held by the papalists that there was nothing done by the Emperor in any capacity which it was not within the competence of the Pope to supervise.

CHAPTER I THE BEGINNINGS OF CHURCH REFORM

Previous to the eleventh century there had been quarrels between Emperor and Pope. Occasional Popes, such as Nicholas I (858-67), had asserted high prerogatives for the successor of St. Peter, but we have seen that the Church herself taught the co-ordinate and the mutual dependence of the ecclesiastical and secular powers. It was the circumstances of the tenth century which caused the Church to assume a less complacent attitude and, in her efforts to prevent her absorption by the State, to attempt the reduction of the State to a mere department of the Church.

[Sidenote: Lay investiture of ecclesiastics.]

With the acceptance of Christianity as the official religion of the Empire the organisation of the Church tended to follow the arrangements for purposes of civil government. And when at a later period civil society was gradually organising itself on that hierarchical model which we know as feudalism, the Church, in the persons of its officers, was tending to become not so much the counterpart of the State as an integral part of it. For the clergy, as being the only educated class, were used by the Kings as civil administrators, and on the great officials of the Church were bestowed extensive estates which should make them a counterpoise to the secular nobles. In theory the clergy and people of the diocese still elected their bishop, but in reality he came to be nominated by the King, at whose hands he received investiture of his office by the symbolic gifts of the ring and the pastoral staff, and to whom he did homage for the lands of the see, since by virtue of them he was a baron of the realm. Thus for all practical purposes the great ecclesiastic was a secular noble, a layman. He had often obtained his high ecclesiastical office as a reward for temporal service, and had not infrequently paid a large sum of money as an earnest of loyal conduct and for the privilege of recouping himself tenfold by unscrupulous use of the local patronage which was his.

[Sidenote: Clerical marriage.]

Furthermore, in contravention of the canons of the Church, the secular clergy, whether bishops or priests, were very frequently married. The Church, it is true, did not consecrate these marriages; but, it is said, they were so entirely recognised that the wife of a bishop was called Episcopissa. There was an imminent danger that the ecclesiastical order would shortly lapse into an hereditary social caste, and that the sons of priests inheriting their fathers' benefices would merely become another order of landowners.

[Sidenote: Church reform.]

Thus the two evils of traffic in ecclesiastical offices, shortly stigmatised as simony and concubinage—for the laws of the Church forbade any more decent description of the relationship—threatened to absorb the Church within the State. Professional interests and considerations of morality alike demanded that these evils should be dealt with. Ecclesiastical reformers perceived that the only lasting reformation was one which should proceed from the Church herself. It was among the secular clergy, the parish priests, that these evils were most rife. The monasteries had also gone far away from their original ideals; but the tenth century had witnessed the establishment of a reformed Benedictine rule in the Congregation of Cluny, and, in any case, it was in monastic life alone that the conditions seemed suitable for working out any scheme of spiritual improvement. The Congregation of Cluny was based upon the idea of centralisation; unlike the Abbot of the ordinary Benedictine monastery, who was concerned with the affairs of a single house, the Abbot of Cluny presided over a number of monasteries, each of which was entrusted only to a Prior. Moreover, the Congregation of Cluny was free from the visitation of the local bishops and was immediately under the papal jurisdiction. What more natural than that the monks of Cluny should advocate the application to the Church at large of those principles of organisation which had formed so successful a departure from previous arrangements in the smaller sphere of Cluny? Thus the advocates of Church reform evolved both a negative and a positive policy: the abolition of lay investiture and the utter extirpation of the practice of clerical marriages were to shake the Church free from the numbing control of secular interests, and these were to be accomplished by a centralisation of the ecclesiastical organisation in the hands of the Pope, which would make him more than a match for the greatest secular potentate, the successor of Caesar himself.

[Sidenote: Chances of reform.]

It is true that at the beginning of the eleventh century there seemed little chance of the accomplishment of these reforms. If the great secular potentates were likely to cling to the practice of investiture in order to keep a hold over a body of landowners which, whatever their other obligations, controlled perhaps one-third of the lands in Western Christendom; yet the Kings of the time were not unsympathetic to ecclesiastical reform as interpreted by Cluny. In France both Hugh Capet (987-96) and Robert (996-1031) appealed to the Abbot of Cluny for help in the improvement of their monasteries, and this example was followed by some of their great nobles. In Germany reigned Henry II (1002-24), the last of the Saxon line, who was canonised a century after his death by a Church penetrated by the influences of Cluny. It was the condition of the Papacy which for nearly half a century postponed any attempt at a comprehensive scheme of reform. Twice already in the course of the tenth century had the intervention of the German King, acting as Emperor, rescued the see of Rome from unspeakable degradation. But for nearly 150 years (904-1046), with a few short interludes, the Papacy was the sport of local factions. At the beginning of the eleventh century the leaders of these factions were descended from the two daughters of the notorious Theodora; the Crescentines who were responsible for three Popes between 1004 and 1012, owing their influence to the younger Theodora, while the Counts of Tusculum were the descendants of the first of the four husbands who got such power as they possessed from the infamous Marozia. The first Tusculan Pope, Benedict VIII (1012-24), by simulating an interest in reform, won the support of Henry II of Germany, whom he crowned Emperor; but in 1033 the same faction set up the son of the Count of Tusculum, a child