Christianity and Islam in Spain | Page 4

rather predominance, thus suddenly acquired by the
church, resting as it did in part upon royal favour and court intrigue, did
not tend to the spiritual advancement of Christianity. Almost coincident
with the Edict of Milan was the appearance of Arianism, which, after
dividing the Church against itself for upwards of half-a-century, and
almost succeeding at one time in imposing itself on the whole
Church,[1] finally under the missionary zeal of Ulphilas found a new
life among the barbarian nations that were pressing in upon all the
northern boundaries of the Empire, ready, like eagles, to swoop down
and feast upon her mighty carcase.
[1] At the Council of Rimini in 360. "Ingemuit totus orbis," says
Jerome, "et Arianum se esse miratus est."
Most of these barbaric hordes, like the Goths and the Vandals, adopted
the semi-Arian Christianity first preached to them by Ulphilas towards

the close of the fourth century. Consequently the nations that forced
their way into Southern Gaul, and over the Pyrenees into Spain, were,
nominally at least, Christians of the Arian persuasion. The extreme
importance to Spain of the fact of their being Christians at all will be
readily apprehended by contrasting the fate of the Spanish provincials
with that which befell the Christian and Romanized Britons at the
hands of our own Saxon forefathers only half-a-century later.
Meanwhile the Church in Spain, like the Church elsewhere, freed from
the quickening and purifying influences of persecution, had lost much
of its ancient fervour. Gladiatorial shows and lascivious dances on the
stage began to be tolerated even by Christians, though they were
denounced by the more devout as incompatible with the profession of
the Christian faith.
Spain also furnishes us with the first melancholy spectacle of Christian
blood shed by Christian hands. Priscillian, bishop of Avila, was led into
error by his intercourse with an Egyptian gnostic. What his error
exactly was is not very clear, but it seems to have comprised some of
the erroneous doctrines attributed to Manes and Sabellius. In 380, the
new heresy, with which two other bishops besides Priscillian became
infected, was condemned at a council held at Saragoza, and by another
held five years later at Bordeaux. Priscillian himself and six other
persons were executed with tortures at the instigation of Ithacius,[1]
bishop of Sossuba, and Idacius, bishop of Merida, in spite of the
protests of Martin of Tours and others. The heresy itself, however, was
not thus stamped out, and continued in Spain until long after the Gothic
conquest.
There is some reason for supposing that at the time of the Gothic
invasion Spain was still in great part Pagan, and that it continued to be
so during the whole period of Gothic domination.[2] Some Pagans
undoubtedly lingered on even as late as the end of the sixth century,[3]
but that there were any large numbers of them as late as the eighth
century is improbable.
Dr Dunham, who has given a clear and concise account of the Gothic
government in Spain, calls it the "most accursed that ever existed in

Europe."[4] This is too sweeping a statement, though it must be
allowed that the haughty exclusiveness of the Gothic nobles rendered
their yoke peculiarly galling, while the position of their slaves was
wretched beyond all example. However, it is not to their civil
administration that we wish now to draw attention, but rather to the
relations of Church and State under a Gothic administration which was
at first Arian and subsequently orthodox.
[1] See Milman, "Latin Christianity," vol. iii. p. 60.
[2] Dozy, ii. 44, quotes in support of this the second canon of the
Sixteenth Council of Toledo.
[3] Mason, a bishop of Merida, was said to have baptized a Pagan as
late as this.
[4] Dunham's "Hist. of Spain," vol. i. p. 210.
The Government, which began with being of a thoroughly military
character, gradually tended to become a theocracy--a result due in great
measure to the institution of national councils, which were called by the
king, and attended by all the chief ecclesiastics of the realm. Many of
the nobles and high dignitaries of the State also took part in these
assemblies, though they might not vote on purely ecclesiastical matters.
These councils, of which there were nineteen in all (seventeen held at
Toledo, the Gothic capital, and two elsewhere), gradually assumed the
power of ratifying the election of the king, and of dictating his religious
policy. Thus by the Sixth Council of Toledo (canon three) it was
enacted that all kings should swear "not to suffer the exercise of any
other religion than the Catholic, and to vigorously enforce the law
against all dissentients, especially against that accursed people the
Jews." The fact of the monarchy becoming elective[1] no doubt
contributed a good deal to throwing the