Christendom

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In itswider sense this term is used to describe the part of the world which is inhabited byChristians, asGermany in theMiddle Ages was the country inhabited by Germans. The word will be taken in this quantitative sense in the articleR in comparing the extent of Christendom with that ofPaganism or ofIslam.

But there is anarrower sense in which Christendom stands for a polity as well as a religion, for a nation as well as for a people. Christendom in this sense was an ideal which inspired and dignified many centuries of history and which has not yet altogether lost its power over the minds of men.

The foundations of aChristian polity are to be found in the traditions of the Jewish theocracy softened and broadened byChristian cosmopolitanism, in the completeness with whichChristian principles were applied to the whole of life, in the aloofness of theChristian communities from the world around them, and in the hierarchical organization of theclergy. The conflict between the new religion and the Roman Empire was due partly to the very thoroughness of theChristian system and it naturally emphasized the distinction between this newsociety and the old state. Thus when Constantine proclaimed the Peace of theChurch he might almost be described as signing a treaty between two powers. From that Peace to the time of the Barbarian inroads into the West, Christendom was all but conterminous with the Roman Empire, and it might be thought that the ideal of aChristian nation was then at least realized. The legal privileges which were granted to thebishops from the first and which tended to increase, the protection given to the churches and theproperty of theclergy, and the principle admitted by the emperors that questions offaith were to be freely decided by thebishops — all these concessions seemed to show that the empire had become positively as well as negativelyChristian. ToSt. Ambrose and thebishops of the fourth century the destruction of the empire seemed almost incredible except as a phase of the final catastrophe, and the system which prevailed in the delays ofTheodosius seemed almost the idealChristian polity.

Yet there was about it much that fell short of the ideal of Christendom. In many ways, as a contemporarybishop expressed it, "the church was in the empire, not the empire in the church". The traditions of Roman imperialism were too strong to be easily mitigated. Constantine, though not even acatechumen, in a sense at least, presided over theCouncil of Nicaea and the "Divinity" of his sonConstantius, though formally observing the rule that decisions offaith belonged to thebishops, was able to exert such pressure upon them that at one time not a single strictlyorthodoxbishop was left in the occupation of hissee. The officious interference of atheologian emperor was more dangerous to theChurch than the hostility ofJulian, his successor. But the wish to dominate in every sphere was not the only relic ofpaganRome. Though the emperor was no longer pontifex maximus and thestatue of Victory was removed from the senate house, thoughTheodosius decreed the final closing of thetemples and put an end topagan public worship, the ancient world was not really converted; it was hardly acatechumen. In philosophy, literature, and art it clung to the old models and reproduced them in a debased form.Pagan civilization had not beenChristians of a simpler character and a more spontaneous vigour than the inhabitants of the degenerate empire. The formation of Christendom was to be the work of a new generation of nations,baptized in their infancy and receiving even the message of the ancient world from the lips ofChristian teachers.

But it was to be long before the great future hidden in the Barbarian inversions was to become manifest. At their first irruption the influence of the Teutonic tribes was only destructive; theChristian polity seemed to be perishing with the empire. TheChurch, however, as a spiritual power survived and mitigated even the fury of the Barbarian, for the helpless population ofRome found a refuge in the churches during the sack of the city by Alaric in 410. The distinction between church and empire, which this disaster illustrated, was emphasized by the accusations brought against the patriotism of theChristians and bySt. Augustine's reply in his"De Civitate Dei". He develops in this encyclopedic treatise theidea of the two kingdoms orsocieties (city, except in a very metaphorical sense, is too narrow to be an adequate translation ofcivitas) theKingdom of God consisting of His friends in this world and the next, whether men orangels, while the earthly kingdom is that of his enemies. These two kingdoms have existed since the fall of theangels but in a more limited sense and in relation to theChristiandispensation, theChurch is spoken of asGod's kingdom on earth while the Roman Empire is all but identified with thecivitas terrena; not altogether, however, because thecivil power, in securing peace for that part of theheavenly kingdom which is on its earthlypilgrimage, receives some kind of Divine sanction. We might, perhaps, have expected, now that the empire wasChristian, thatSt. Augustine would have looked forward to a newcivitas terrena reconciled and united to thecivitas Dei; but this prophetic vision of the future was prevented, it may be, by the prevalent opinion, that the world was near its end. The"De Civitate", however, which had a commanding influence in theMiddle Ages, helped to form the ideal of Christendom by the development which it gave to theidea of thekingdom of God upon earth, its past history, its dignity, and universality.

From the fifth century till the days ofCharles the Great there was no effectual political unity in the West, and theChurch had no civil counterpart. But Charles' dominions extended from the Elbe to the Ebro and from Britany to Belgrade; there was but little of Western Christendom which they did not include.Ireland and the South ofItaly were the only parts of it which his power or his influence did not reach. Over the territories actually comprised in his empire he exercised a real control, administrative and legislative, as well as military. But theCarlovingian empire was far more than a mere political federation: it was a period of renewal and reorganisation in nearly every sphere of social life. It was spiritual, perhaps, even more than political. Inwar conversion went hand in hand with victory; in peace Charles ruled throughbishops as effectively as through counts; his active solicitude extended to the reform andeducation of theclergy, the promotion of learning, the revival of theBenedictine Rule, to the arts, to the liturgy and even the doctrines of theChurch. In the West Christendom became a temporal polity and asociety as well as a Church, and the empire of Charles, brief though its existence proved to be, remained for many centuries an ideal and therefore a power. Yet theCarlovingian civilization was in most cases a return to late Roman models. Originality is not its characteristic. Charles' favourite church atAachen is supported on the columns which he sent for from the ruinedtemples ofItaly. Even in his relations with theChurch he would have found the closest precedents for his policy in the attitude of Constantine or even perhaps of Justinian. Great as was his respect for thesuccessor of St. Peter, he claimed for himself a masterful share in the administration of mattersecclesiastical: he could write, even before hiscoronation as emperor, toPope Leo III, "My part is to defend theChurch by force of arms from external attacks and to secure her internally through the establishment of theCatholicfaith, your part is to render us the assistance ofprayer". Still every step forward has usually begun with a return to the past; it is thus that the artist or the statesman learns his craft. If theCarlovingian system had lasted, nodoubt much that was new would have been developed, and even under Charles's successor the spiritual and temporal powers were placed on a more equal and more appropriate footing. But Charles was too great for his age; his work was premature. The political bond was too weak to prevail over tribal loyalty and Teutonic particularism. Disorder and disruption would have broken upCarlovingian civilization even ifNorthman,Saracen, and Hungarian had not come to plungeEurope once more intoanarchy.

During the tenth century the work of moral and political reconstruction was slowly carried on by theChurch andfeudalism; in the eleventh came that struggle between these two creative factors of the newEurope which saved theChurch from absorption intofeudalism. This century opened with what was, perhaps, the most hopeful attempt, after Charles the Great, to give themedieval empire a really universal character. The revived empire ofOtto I in the middle of the tenth century had been but an imperfect copy of itsCarlovingian model. It was much more limited geographically, as it included onlyGermany, its dependent states to the east, andItaly; it was limited also in its interests, for Otto left to theChurch nearly all those spheres ofecclesiastical,educational, literary, and artistic activity for which Charles had done so much. But Otto's grandson, the boy emperorOtto III, "magnum quoddam et improbabile cogitans", as a contemporary expressed it, attempted to make the empire less German, less military, more Roman, more universal, and more of a spiritual force. He was in intimate alliance with theHoly See, and with almost startling originality he established inRome the first German and then the firstFrenchpope. He seems to have realized thetruth that it was only by leaning on and developing religious aspect of the empire that he could hope at that stage of history to make its influence universal in the West.Europe was so unformed politically that the long reign of a wise and determined emperor backed up by theChurch might perhaps have changed its future history, have brought together into one broad and rather indefinite channel the small but already divergent streams of national tendencies, and built upEurope on the basis of aChristian federalism. But Ottomirabile mundi, died at the age of twenty-two, and the dream of aChristian empire faded away. Never again did a successor of his make a serious attempt to throw off his German character and to make the sphere of his rule conterminous with Christendom. Fascinating as is the theory of the Holy Roman Empire, and great as was its influence on history and speculation, it was always something of a sham. It claimed in political matters a sphere of action as wide as that of thepopes in things spiritual but, unlike the spiritual, this political plena potestas was never admitted. Even before the War of Investitures and theFirst Crusade had made so wide a breach in the imperial prestige, anAbbot ofDijon of Italian origin could contrast the still enduringunity of the Church with the disruption of thecivil power. The empire is generally held to have reached its zenith in the middle of the eleventh century but that is not the century in which we find the ideal of a united Christendom nearest its realization.

Political unity in the West was never restored after the fall of theCarlovingian Empire, religious unity lasted till theReformation, but in the twelfth century we find, in addition, a very large measure of what may compendiously be called "social unity". Before that time isolation, disorder and the predominance offeudalism had kept men apart; after it the development of national distinctions was to have something of the same effect. The twelfth century is therefore the period in whichChristian cosmopolitanism can best be studied. TheChurch was naturally the chief unifying force, in the darkest days she had preached the gospel toFrank,Saxon, and Gallo-Roman, and her organization had been, at critical moments when thecivil power had almost sunk under the flood, the only bond which linked together the populations of the West. The opening century found theChurch in the midst of thatHildebrandine movement, in favour ofclerical celibacy and againstsimony, which wasnecessary to save the spiritual character of theclergy from being obliterated by too close a contact with temporal administration and the materialambition offeudalsociety. The reform, though its centre was atRome, was aEuropean movement. Its forerunners had been found in themonasteries ofBurgundy and among the students of canon law in the Rhine cities; at the height of the struggle its leaders includedItalians, Lorrainers,Frenchmen, and a German monastic revival. When Paschal II showed signs of faltering, the movement was carried on almost in spite of him by thezeal of French reformers. EvenSpain,England, and Demnark caught the saving infection, and the eventual settlement between Church and empire was foreshadowed in the concordat, devised probably by aFrench canonist, which was agreed to bySt. Anselm and Henry I. Thus did all the nations which were to be have their share in the victory ofHildebrandine principles, and there was roused throughout the West a revival of the spiritual life. The ideals of theclergy were raised, or rather they acquired strength and confidence to pursue ideals which they had always, though despairingly, acknowledged. Thiscrusade against selfishness, passion, and weakness brought together theclergy of the West, as the attack on more material foes united its peoples, and as a consequence theecclesiastical body in the twelfth century is a realsociety almost contemptuous of political or racial frontiers. We findFrenchmen and an Englishman in the chair of St. Peter; an Italian,St. Anselm, atCanterbury; aSavoyard,St. Hugh, at Lincoln; anEnglishJohn of Salisbury atChartres: instances such as those could be multiplied almost indefinitely. Inmedieval Latin this vastsociety possessed a language suited to the varied wants of the age, and it is as living as any vernacular if we read it in a letter ofSt. Anselm, a sermon ofSt. Bernard, a poem ofAdam of St. Victor, the "Polycraticus" ofJohn of Salisbury, an assize of Henry II, the desultory chronicle ofOrdericus Vitalis or the finished history ofWilliam of Tyre. It was a language which might have had a greater literature if the less simple amongst those who wrote had not been continually harking back to classical models.

The spirit ofCatholicity in theChurch was guarded and prompted by the ever increasing power of thepopes. The days when theHoly See had had to be rescued by the emperors from the petty and passionate Roman nobility must have seemed far off, and the most definite result of the War of Investitures was a second liberation, the conquest of the complete independence of papal elections. Never was thepapal power inEurope so great as in the years between the end of thatwar in 1122 and the great disaster of theSecond Crusade. Besides being the guardian of the Faith, thepapacy was fast becoming the central court of Christendom. For close on two centuries, fromNicholas I toLeo IX in the middle of the eleventh century, the plenary powers of thepope had been but exceptionally exercised north of the Alps though they had been acknowledged in principle, but in this most legal of centuries the exercise ofpapaljurisdiction becomes habitual. The curia was treated as a court of first instance as well as a court of appeal. Hardly any subject was too small or too local to be referred toRome: thepope, for instance, decided whether or not the Duke ofLorraine might have a castle within four miles of Toul. Papallegates might be met on all the highways of Christendom,papal courts sat in every land. Canon law grew fast, and the "Decretum" of Gratian, about the middle of the century, though it was not an authoritative collection, providedlegates and judges with an admirable synthesis ofpapal pronouncements. St. Bernard was much troubled at the amount of legal business which poured in upon thepope; it must, he considered, interfere with the more spiritualduties of his high office. But the movement was irresistible; thepapacy had become de facto the centre of a vastChristian nation. The empire was, as we have seen, out of court. It was in thepapacy thatChristendom, a temporal as well as a spiritualsociety, found its head in temporal and spiritual things alike.

After thefaith and thehierarchy of theChurch the monastic orders have usually formed the strongest bond ofCatholic union, and in the twelfth century the monastic spirit was full of life. In the previous epoch theCluniacBenedictines had played an essential part in the work of reconstruction; but life was now more complicated, and monasticism took many forms. The contemplative spirit of the oldhermits inspired theCarthusian foundation ofSt. Bruno, "the only ancient order which has never been reformed and never required reforming", the increased demand forparish work led to the revival of regular canons, and in part to the foundation of thePremonstratensians, theCrusades produced themilitary orders, while in theCistercians the new spiritual fervour with its ascetical and mystical tendencies found appropriate expression. Seldom has a new order spread with such rapidity throughoutEurope as these whiteBenedictines, and St. Bernard, their great representative is the most marvellous instance of the power of a single man, without official position, over all classes and different nations. The settlement of a disputed papal election practically depended on his verdict, he appeased the feuds of German noblefamilies and reconciled Italian cities, he led one emperor to the South ofItaly and sent another on acrusade of the East; more wonderful still, single-handed he pursued the Roman people to forsake theantipope. Though not the originator, he was the motive power of theSecond Crusade, and his eloquence seemed as persuasive in the Rhine cities as inBurgundy, and as successful in saving theJews from the fanaticism of thecrusaders as in rousing thecrusading spirit.

Besides theChurch and its many activities, there were other forces at work, other expressions of the energy of youthful Christendom which must at least be enumerated. The twelfth-centuryrenaissance was a rapid development of what may be called Franco-Norman civilization.France, if the name is given a comprehensive meaning, had conqueredEngland and SouthItaly, had brought about thecrusades, and had helped thepapacy to victory over the empire. It was inFrance that the new monastic movements took their rise, and theintellectual movement as well. TheUniversity of Paris was theuniversity of Christendom, and the problems stated by the BretonAbelard excited the curiosity and the enthusiasm of young men from every country. French was spoken nearly as widely as Latin, and themedieval epic, the romances of the Arthurian legend, and the lyrics of the troubadours, the three most characteristic forms ofmedieval vernacular literature all were developed amongst men who spoke one of the dialects of French. Politically the Franco-Norman world was divided between Plantagenet, Capetian, and the princes of the South, and thepersonality ofFrederick Barbarossa gave a splendour to German politics, but intellectually and socially French civilization dominatedEurope. It was however, a supremacy which lay in the rapidity andlogical thoroughness with which she expressedideas common to the whole West. The development ofGothic architecture inEngland was almost parallel to the French, the epic and the Arthurian legend found a congenial soil inGermany, and the lyrical poetry ofItaly was almost a younger sister to that of Provence. The same spirit seemed to be abroad fromScotland toPalermo, and theChristians of the West must have felt that they were indeed citizens of a great city.

For this sense of a common Christendom was not confined to theclergy or the knightly and baronial classes. The peasantry and the town-population had much improved theireconomic and legal positions since the beginning of the eleventh century, they had also profited by theeducation of action and experience. In the movement for theTruce of God, in theHildebrandine reform, in theCrusades, in all these struggles of a crowded age, the holy people ofGod had taken a prominent part; all had increased their self-confidence, all had drawn them closer to theclergy and to one another. Though the aim of theHildebrandine reform was to preserve the distinctive features of thepriestly life, it had not formed theclergy into a caste.Gregory VII had appealed to thelaity, and the reformers found among the people allies most enthusiastic at times indeed fanatical and cruel. TheCrusades, too, hadconsecrated the devotion of the poorpilgrims as well as knightly valour. At one moment, when the leaders had forgotten the Holy City for the sake ofSyrian castles, it was thezeal of the poor that alone saved the fortunes of the expedition. On the other movements of the timeclergy and people were often united, and municipal liberties, at least in their earlier stages, found a support in theChurch.Alexander III, the greatestpope of the century, was allied with the Lombard republics in their struggle withFrederick Barbarossa, the greatest of its emperors. It is at least probable that since the early ages of theChurch,clergy andlaity have never been so united as in this century. Fewmedievalsaints have excited so much universal and popular enthusiasm asSt. Thomas of Canterbury, amartyr for therights of theChurch and theclergy, and thepilgrims who thronged to Canterbury from all parts of Christendom are perhaps the best evidence of the union between people andclergy, and between the different nations of the West.

The pontificate ofInnocent III, which began before the close of the twelfth century, was the climax of this period ofChristian cosmopolitanism. It illustrates both the splendour of the ideal and the increasing difficulty of realizing it. Fewpopes have had nobler aims thanInnocent, few have been more favoured by nature and circumstance or have been apparently more successful. He was enabled to put at the head of a national movement inItaly, to governRome, where his predecessors had been weakest, to compel the King ofFrance to respect therights of marriage and the King ofEngland those of theChurch, to help in the success of two papalist candidates to the empire, and to see acrusade sail for the East. These are but some of the successes of his reign, yet it is impossible to study the fortunes of his pontificate without observing that nearly every one of his victories is marked by the signs of ultimate failure. Of the two emperors whom he helped to the throne, the first repudiated all his engagements and declared openwar upon him inItaly, the second was thatFrederick II who was to be the most thoroughgoing foe of thepapacy. The homage whichInnocent won from King John contributed in a later generation to embitter the relations betweenEngland and theHoly See. In his Italian policy, disinterested as it was, can be traced the first beginnings of future evils; the political power he had acquired led to the first case of nepotism and to the first appeal to a French noble for help in the South ofItaly. He lost control over both the religious campaigns which he set in motion, for he endeavoured unsuccessfully to protect Raymond ofToulouse from theAlbigensiancrusaders and to prevent theVenetians diverting theFourth Crusade fromJerusalem to Constantinople.

That so great apope should meet with failures so signal was significant of the change coming overEurope. The control over temporal and evenecclesiastical matters was slipping away from the head of Christendom, though the greatpersonality ofInnocent and the successfulwar waged by his successors against the empire might disguise the fact from contemporaries. In the fourteenth century the nationalwars, the great Schism, the unimpeded progress of theTurks, these were all witnesses to the divisions of Christendom. For a moment, at the time of theCouncil of Constance in 1414, there seemed to be a rally; theChristiansociety appeared to be drawing together again in order to put an end to theschism and to reform theChurch; but as a matter of fact that council was the first ofEuropean congresses, a meeting of national delegates rather than a parliament of Christendom. The history of this change from the Christendom of the twelfth century to the nations of theReformation epoch, is the history of the laterMiddle Ages. It is possible, however, to disentangle some of the elements of this complicated process of disintegration.

To the modern student, who is wise after the event, it is clear by the eleventh century that theEurope of the future is not going to be built up politically as an empire and that the ultimate development of some form of national state is assured. TheChurch, though she might have preserved a large measure of social unity and linked the nations together, could never have formed a permanent, universal state, forChristianity is not, likeIslam, a political system. Politically, there seems but two alternatives; empire or nations. Indeed the roots of nationality can be traced deep down in geographical and racial differences and in the varying degrees in which the Teutonic invaders of the Roman Empire coalesced with its old inhabitants. In the twelfth century, though the sense of a commonChristianity is the predominant characteristic of the age, the development of national distinctions proceeded apace.Germany was long to regret the glories of the reign ofFrederick Barbarossa, yet even his power failed to level the Alps politically and to overcome the still hardly conscious nationalism of the Lombard cities. The social andintellectual influence whichFrance had exerted in the middle of the century began underPhilip Augustus to take a political form; while inEngland conquerors and conquered were fast amalgamating, and a national feeling, fostered by insular position, had grown up, though it was concealed for the moment by the extent of the Angevin Empire and the foreign interests of Henry II andRichard I. This empire broke into pieces under John, and, after an interval of weakness and hesitation,England appears in the reign of Edward I as the country where nationality had most rapidly developed. Elsewhere, too, the process continued. Thepersonality of St. Louis gave to the French monarchy a halo comparable to the spiritual character which was to cling for so many centuries to the Holy Roman Empire. The fall of the Hohenstauffen decided finally what had long threatened, thatGermany was to be not a State, but at any rate a nation severed fromItaly, and thatItaly itself was to live its own turbulent city life so fruitful inwar, in tyranny, insaints, and in works of art.

Meanwhile the new monarchies of the West became self-conscious through their lawyers. Secular law in the twelfth century had given its support to thecivil power, but it had been overshadowed, on the whole, by the great development of canon law. Towards the close of the thirteenth it had its revenge as the ally of the national sovereigns. Edward I was both one of the most legal and one of the most powerful of English kings, yet in his case legal absolutism was mitigated by customary law. InFrance the enigmatic figure ofPhilip the Fair was half-concealed by his legistministers, men who combined a radical anti-clericalism, ready to go any lengths, with the most frank acknowledgment of the absolute power of the sovereign. It is an instance of the irony of history that Edward and Philip should be the contemporaries ofBoniface VIII, the boldest assertor ofpapal supremacy. The probable explanation is that the recent victory over the empire misled the papalist writers and perhaps thepopes themselves. The disappearance of the Hohenstauffen seemed to leave thepapacy an undisputed supremacy in theChristian world. It had been the practice to speak of the spiritual and temporal powers in terms ofpope and emperor, and it was long before it was realized, at least on thepapal side, that thecivil power, defeated as emperor, had returned to the attack with more aggressive vigour as the Monarchy and the State. The papal-imperial controversy continued, though with increasing unreality, when thepope was atAvignon, and the emperor was Louis ofBavaria, and little effort was made to adapt to the new conditions the older theory of the co-ordinate powers ofChurch and State, both of immediate Divine origin but differing in dignity.

The struggle betweenBoniface and Philip culminated in the outrage ofAnagni, whereNogaret, the French lawyer, struck the agedpope. It was a brutal act, disgraceful only to the perpetrator. Unfortunately, it was followed by the migration, a few years later, of thepapal court to the prison-palace ofAvignon. This premature development of French absolutism was followed by years ofwar andanarchy; but from her misfortunesFrance rose up a consolidated monarchy. InEngland, aristocratic misrule and some forty years of intermittent civilwar produced the same result. InSpain, and even in the German and Scandinavian principalities and kingdoms, different causes tended in the same direction. Thus grew up those monarchies, powerful at home jealous of foreign interference, which contributed so much to theReformation.

While in the political sphere nations were drawing apart, in the social sphere theChurch was losing much of her influence on the thoughts of men. Some of this loss was perhaps inevitable. New interests were springing up on every side with the growth of wealth, ofeducation, and of the complexity of life new professions, other than that of arms, were being opened to theeducatedlaity. Religion could hardly expect to keep the hold she had exercised on the outward lives ofChristians. Meanwhile the improvement of secular law would in time render unnecessary and invidious many of theclerical privileges which had been so essential in a simpler age. Thus asEuropeansociety developed, theclergy, the most cosmopolitan element of it, would necessarily lose some of the commanding influence they had exercised in the ages when they represented civilization as well as religion. But other causes were at work. The high religious enthusiasm of the earlier twelfth century was not maintained at the same level either inclergy or people. And indeed even thatChristian age had had its dark side. Passion, the fierce passionate character of a primitive people, was not yet subdued. What had been won by theHildebrandine movement had to be preserved. No moral victory is final: no generation can afford to disarm. The very success of theChurch brought its dangers, and increased power tended toambition and worldliness. The faults and the wealth of theclergy must have contributed something, it would be difficult to say how much to the darkest feature of the age, theheresy which even in St. Bernard's time lurked in secret nearly everywhere. Thisevil spread like a plague through SouthernFrance andItaly, and kept appearing sporadically north of the Alps. It seemed to threatenChristianmorals andChristianfaith alike. So acute did the danger become inFrance that it almost justified the violences of theAlbigensianCrusade but theChurch of the thirteenth century had nobler weapons than those of De Montfort or theInquisition: the Friars andScholastic movement attackedheresy, morally and intellectually, and routed it. Henceforth, however, till the sixteenth; century, no great religious or monastic movement, common to Christendom, was provoked by the many moral andintellectual causes which led to the decline and fall of themedieval system and finally to theReformation itself.

The history of thepapacy cannot be separated from that of theChurch. The greatpopes of the past had had a share which can hardly be over-estimated in binding togetherChristiansociety and raising its moral level; it is not surprising that the diminished influence of thepapacy is among the causes of the disintegration of Christendom. It is difficult not to trace the decadence to the struggle withFrederick II. Before that struggle, in the days ofInnocent III, the difficulties of thepapacy were due to its agents, its subjects, to the very greatness of the task it had undertaken, not to the character or aims of thepopes themselves. But fromGregory IX a different spirit seemed to prevail. Thepopes were engaged in a hand-to-land conflict with a power which aimed at establishing a strong monarchy inItaly which threatened to stifle Roman andpapal freedom the contest was not being waged with an imperious but distant German: it was Italian, territorial and bitter. The spiritual ruler seemed almost merged in the sovereign ofRome and thefeudal lord ofSicily. Money wasnecessary, and in order to obtain it funds had to be raised in other, and especially, transalpine lands, and by means which aroused much discontent and which affected the credit ofRome as the central court of Christendom. The conception of canon law, of a system of courtsChristian and a sacredjurisdiction over-riding political frontiers, is a magnificent one, and thedebt whichEuropean law owes to the canonists is admitted by the modern masters of legal history. It was a system, however, which had many rivals, and it required the support of a high moral prestige. Unfortunately, the machinery was, from the first, defective, there was no organization atRome capable of dealing with the press of legal business, and even in the twelfth century complaints of venality and delay were frequent and bitter. Litigants are not easily satisfied, nor has thelaw often been at once impartial cheap, and speedy in any country yet it can hardly be denied that in the thirteenth century; the Roman courts suffered from very serious abuses.

It is unnecessary to follow the fortunes of thepapacy after the thirteenth century; the lesson of the French influence, of theschism, of the Italianization of the fifteenth-centurypopes, is but too clear. Though the essentialrights of theHoly See were but seldom denied in those years, it was clear, when the crisis came, and when thepapal supremacy had to bear the first attack, that that devotion which makesmartyrs and the enthusiasm which inspires righteous rebellion were sadly lacking. It would seem, then that the growth of national divisions, the increased secularism of everyday life, the diminished influence of theChurch and thepapacy, that all these interdependent influences had broken up the social unity of Christendom at least two centuries before theReformation, yet it must never be forgotten that religious unity remained. As long as Christendom wasCatholic it was a reality, a visiblesociety with one head and onehierarchy. Though for the moment centrifugal tendencies were in the ascendant, the future was full of possibilities. A great religious movement, a revival of theChristian spirit, the reform which should have come when theReformation came, any such appeal to the commonfaith and toCatholic loyalty might have brought theChristian nations together again, have put some check upon their internal absolutism and external combativeness and have removed from theChristian name the reproach of mutual antagonism.

Such speculation is, however, as idle as it is fascinating, instead of the reform, of the renewal of the spiritual life of theChurch round the old principles ofChristianfaith and unity, there came theReformation, andChristiansociety was broken up beyond the hope of at least proximate reunion. But it was long before this fact was realized even by theReformers and indeed it must have been more difficult for a subject ofHenry VIII to convince himself that theLatin Church was really being torn asunder than for us to conceive the full meaning and all the consequences of a united Christendom. Much of the weakness of ordinary men in the earlier years of theReformation, much of their attitude towards thepapacy, can be explained by their blindness to what was happening. They thought, no doubt, that all would come right in the end. So dangerous is it, particularly in times of revolution, to trust to anything but principle.

The effect of theReformation was to separate from theChurch all the Scandinavian, most of the Teutonic, and a few of the Latin-speaking populations ofEurope but the spirit of division once established worked further mischief, and the antagonism betweenLutheran andCalvinist was almost as bitter as that betweenCatholic andProtestant. At the beginning, however, of the seventeenth century, Christendom was weary of religiouswar andpersecution, and for a moment it almost seemed as if the breach were to be closed. The deaths of Philip II and Elizabeth, the conversion and the tolerant policy ofHenry IV ofFrance, the accession of the House of Stuart to the English throne, the pacification between andSpain and theDutch, all these events pointed to the same direction. A like tendency is apparent in thetheological speculation of the time: the learning and judgment of Hooker, the first beginning of the High Church movement, the spread ofArminianism inHolland, these were all signs that in theProtestant Churches, thought, study, andpiety had begun to moderate the fires of controversy, while in the monumental works of Francisco Suárez and the other Spanishdoctors, theCatholictheology seems to be resuming that stately, comprehensive view of its problems which is so impressive in the greatScholastics. It is not surprising that this moment, when the cause of reconciliation seemed in the ascendant, was marked by a scheme ofChristian political union. Much importance was at one time attributed to thegrand dessein ofHenry IV. Recent historians are inclined to assign most of the design to Henry'sProtestant minister, Sully, the king's share in the plan was probably but small. A coalitionwar againstAustria was first to secureEurope against the domination of the Hapsburgs but an era of peace was to follow. The differentChristian States, whetherCatholic orProtestant were to preserve their independence, to practise toleration, to be united in a "Christian Republic" under the presidency of thepope, and to find an outlet for their energies in the recovery of the East. These dreams ofChristian reunion soon melted away. Religious divisions were too deep-seated to permit the reconstruction of aChristian polity, and the cure for international ills has been sought in other directions. Theinternational law of the seventeenth century jurists was based upon national law, not uponChristian fellowship, the balance of power of the eighteenth century on the elementaryinstinct of self-defence, and the nationalism of the nineteenth on racial or linguistic distinctions. It has never occurred to anyone to take seriously the mystic terminology with which in the Holy Alliance Alexander I ofRussia clothed his policy of conservative intervention. The Greek insurrection and the Eastern questions generally restored the wordChristian to the vocabulary of theEuropeanchanceries, but it has come in recent times to express our common civilization rather than a religion which so manyEuropeans now no longer possess. (SeeR)

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