The Roman Empire, at the end of the fourth century, was in a condition
 which made the experiment of Theodosius particularly dangerous. The
 government was highly centralized and bureaucratic; hosts of officials,
 appointed directly from Constantinople, administered every provincial post
 from the greatest to the least. There was little local self-government and
 no local patriotism. The civil population was looked on by the
 bureaucratic caste as a multitude without rights or capacities, existing
 solely for the purpose of paying taxes. So strongly was this view held,
 that to prevent the revenue from suffering, the land-holding classes, from
 the _curialis_, or local magnate, down to the poorest peasant, were
 actually forbidden to move from one district to another without special
 permission. A landowner was even prohibited from enlisting in the army,
 unless he could show that he left an heir behind him capable of paying his
 share in the local rates. An almost entire separation existed between the
 civil population and the military caste; it was hard for a civilian of any
 position to enlist; only the lower classes--who were of no account in
 tax-paying--were suffered to join the army. On the other hand, every
 pressure was used to make the sons of soldiers continue in the service.
 Thus had arisen a purely professional army, which had no sympathy or
 connection with the unarmed provincials whom it protected.
 
 The army had been a source of unending trouble in the third century; for a
 hundred years it had made and unmade Caesars at its pleasure. That was
 while it was still mainly composed of men born within the empire, and
 officered by Romans.
 
 But Theodosius had now swamped the native element in the army by his
 wholesale enlistment of Gothic war-bands. And he had, moreover, handed
 many of the chief military posts to Teutons. Some of them indeed had
 married Roman wives and taken kindly to Roman modes of life, while nearly
 all had professed Christianity. But at the best they were military
 adventurers of alien blood while at the worst they were liable to relapse
 into barbarism, cast all their loyalty and civilization to the winds, and
 take to harrying the empire again in the old fearless fashion of the third
 century. Clearly nothing could be more dangerous than to hand over the
 protection of the timid and unarmed civil population to such guardians.
 The contempt they must have felt for the unwarlike provincials was so
 great, and the temptation to plunder the wealthy cities of the empire so
 constant and pressing, that it is no wonder if the Teutons yielded.
 Caesar-making seemed as easy to the leaders as the sack of provincial
 churches and treasuries did to the rank and file.
 
 When the personal ascendency of Theodosius was removed, the empire fell at
 once into the troubles which were inevitable. Both at the court of
 Arcadius, who reigned at Constantinople, and at that of Honorius, who had
 received the West as his share, a war of factions commenced between the
 German and the Roman party. Theodosius had distributed so many high
 military posts to Goths and other Teutons, that this influence was almost
 unbounded. Stilicho _Magister militum_ (commander-in-chief) of the armies
 of Italy was predominant at the council board of Honorius; though he was a
 pure barbarian by blood, Theodosius had married him to his own niece
 Serena, and left him practically supreme in the West, for the young
 emperor was aged only eleven. In the East Arcadius, the elder brother, had
 attained his eighteenth year, and might have ruled his own realm had he
 possessed the energy. But he was a witless young man, "short, thin, and
 sallow, so inactive that he seldom spoke, and always looked as if he was
 about to fall asleep." His prime minister was a Western Roman named
 Rufinus, but before the first year of his reign was over, a Gothic captain
 named Gainas slew Rufinus at a review, before the Emperor's very eyes. The
 weak Arcadius was then compelled to make the eunuch Eutropius his
 minister, and to appoint Gainas _Magister militum_ for the East.
 
 Gainas and Stilicho contented themselves with wire-pulling at Court; but
 another Teutonic leader thought that the time had come for bolder work.
 Alaric was a chief sprung from the family of the Balts, whom the Goths
 reckoned next to the god-descended Amals among their princely houses. He
 was young, daring, and untameable; several years spent at Constantinople
 had failed to civilize him, but had succeeded in filling him with contempt
 for Roman effeminacy. Soon after the death of Theodosius, he raised the
 Visigoths in revolt, making it his pretext that the advisers of Arcadius
 were refusing the _foederati_, or auxiliaries, certain arrears of pay. The
 Teutonic sojourners in Moesia and Thrace joined him almost to a man, and
 the Constantinopolitan government found itself with only a shadow of an
 army to oppose the rebels. Alaric wandered far and wide, from the Danube
 to the gates of Constantinople, and from Constantinople to Greece,
 ransoming or sacking every town in his way till the Goths were gorged with
 plunder. No one withstood him save Stilicho, who was summoned from the
 West to aid his master's brother. By skilful manoeuvres Stilicho blockaded
 Alaric in a mountain position in Arcadia; but when he had him at his
 mercy, it was found that "dog does not eat dog." The Teutonic prime
 minister let the Teutonic rebel escape him, and the Visigoths rolled north
 again into Illyricum. Sated with plunder, Alaric then consented to grant
 Arcadius peace, on condition that he was made a _Magister militum_ like
 Stilicho and Gainas, and granted as much land for his tribesmen as he
 chose to ask. [A.D. 396.]
 
 For the next five years Alaric, now proclaimed King of the Goths by his
 victorious soldiery, reigned with undisputed sway over the eastern parts
 of the Balkan Peninsula, paying only a shadow of homage to the royal
 phantom at Constantinople. There appeared every reason to believe that a
 German kingdom was about to be permanently established in the lands south
 and west of the Danube. The fate which actually befell Gaul, Spain, and
 Britain, a few years later seemed destined for Moesia and Macedonia. How
 different the history of Europe would have been if the Germans had settled
 down in Servia and Bulgaria we need hardly point out.
 
 But another series of events was impending. In A.D. 401, Alaric, instead
 of resuming his attacks on Constantinople, suddenly declared war on the
 Western Emperor Honorius. He marched round the head of the Adriatic and
 invaded Northern Italy. The half-Romanized Stilicho, who wished to keep
 the rule of the West to himself, fought hard to turn the Goths out of
 Italy, and beat back Alaric's first invasion. But then the young emperor,
 who was as weak and more worthless than his brother Arcadius, slew the
 great minister on a charge of treason. When Stilicho was gone, Alaric had
 everything his own way; he moved with the whole Visigothic race into
 Italy, where he ranged about at his will, ransoming and plundering every
 town from Rome downwards. The Visigoths are heard of no more in the Balkan
 Peninsula; they now pass into the history of Italy and then into that of
 Spain.
 
 While Alaric's eyes were turned on Italy, but before he had actually come
 into conflict with Stilicho, the Court of Constantinople had been the seat
 of grave troubles. Gainas the Gothic _Magister militum_ of the East, and
 his creature, the eunuch Eutropius, had fallen out, and the man of war had
 no difficulty in disposing of the wretched harem-bred Grand Chamberlain.
 Instigated by Gainas, the German mercenaries in the army of Asia started
 an insurrection under a certain Tribigild. Gainas was told to march
 against them, and collected troops ostensibly for that purpose. But when
 he was at the head of a considerable army, he did not attack the rebels,
 but sent a message to Constantinople bidding Arcadius give up to him the
 obnoxious Grand Chamberlain. Eutropius, hearing of his danger, threw
 himself on the protection of the Church: he fled into the Cathedral of St.
 Sophia and clung to the altar. John Chrysostom, the intrepid Patriarch of
 Constantinople, forbade the soldiers to enter the church, and protected
 the fugitive for some days. One of the most striking incidents in the
 history of St. Sophia followed: while the cowering Chamberlain lay before
 the altar, John preached to a crowded congregation a sermon on the text,
 "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity," emphasizing every period of his
 harangue by pointing to the fallen Eutropius--prime minister of the empire
 yesterday, and a hunted criminal to-day. The patriarch extorted a promise
 that the eunuch's life should be spared, and Eutropius gave himself up.
 Arcadius banished him to Cyprus, but the inexorable Gainas was not
 contented with his rival's removal; he had Eutropius brought back to
 Constantinople and beheaded.
 
 The _Magister militum_ now brought his army over to Constantinople, and
 quartered it there to overawe the emperor. It appeared quite likely that
 ere long the Germans would sack the city; but the fate that befell Rome
 ten years later was not destined for Constantinople. A mere chance brawl
 put the domination of Gainas to a sudden end. He himself and many of his
 troops were outside the city, when a sudden quarrel at one of the gates
 between a band of Goths and some riotous citizens brought about a general
 outbreak against the Germans. The Constantinopolitan mob showed itself
 more courageous and not less unruly than the Roman mob of elder days. The
 whole population turned out with extemporized arms and attacked the German
 soldiery. The gates were closed to prevent Gainas and his troops from
 outside returning, and a desperate street-fight ranged over the entire
 city. Isolated bodies of the Germans were cut off one by one, and at last
 their barracks were surrounded and set on fire. The rioters had the upper
 hand; seven thousand soldiers fell, and the remnant thought themselves
 lucky to escape. Gainas at once declared open war on the empire, but he
 had not the genius of Alaric, nor the numerical strength that had followed
 the younger chief. He was beaten in the field and forced to fly across the
 Danube, where he was caught and beheaded by Uldes, King of the Huns.
 Curiously enough the officer who defeated Gainas was himself not only a
 Goth but a heathen: he was named Fravitta and had been the sworn
 guest-friend of Theodosius, whose son he faithfully defended even against
 the assault of his own countrymen, [A.D. 401.]
 
 The departure of Alaric and the death of Gainas freed the Eastern Romans
 from the double danger that has impended over them. They were neither to
 see an independent German kingdom on the Danube and Morava, nor to remain
 under the rule of a semi-civilized German _Magister militum_, making and
 unmaking ministers, and perhaps Caesars, at his good pleasure. The weak
 Arcadius was enabled to spend the remaining seven years of his life in
 comparative peace and quiet. His court was only troubled by an open war
 between his spouse, the Empress AElia Eudoxia, and John Chrysostom, the
 Patriarch of Constantinople. John was a man of saintly life and apostolic
 fervour, but rash and inconsiderate alike in speech and action. His
 charity and eloquence made him the idol of the populace of the imperial
 city, but his austere manners and autocratic methods of dealing with his
 subordinates had made him many foes among the clergy. The patriarch's
 enemies were secretly supported by the empress, who had taken offence at
 the outspoken way in which John habitually denounced the luxury and
 insolence of her court. She favoured the intrigues of Theophilus,
 Patriarch of Alexandria, against his brother prelate, backed the Asiatic
 clergy in their complaints about John's oppression of them, and at last
 induced the Emperor to allow the saintly patriarch to be deposed by a
 hastily-summoned council, the "Synod of the Oak" held outside the city.
 The populace rose at once to defend their pastor; riots broke out,
 Theodosius was chased back to Egypt, and the Emperor, terrified by an
 earthquake which seemed to manifest the wrath of heaven, restored John to
 his place.
 
 Next year, however, the war between the empress and the patriarch broke
 out again. John took the occasion of the erection of a statue of Eudoxia
 in the Augustaeum to recommence his polemics. Some obsolete semi-pagan
 ceremonies at its dedication roused his wrath, and he delivered a scathing
 sermon in which--if his enemies are to be believed--he compared the empress
 to Herodias, and himself to John the Baptist. The Emperor, at his wife's
 demand, summoned another council, which condemned Chrysostom, and on
 Easter Day, A.D. 404, seized the patriarch in his cathedral by armed
 force, and banished him to Asia. That night a fire, probably kindled by
 the angry adherents of Chrysostom, broke out in St. Sophia, which was
 burnt to the ground. From thence it spread to the neighbouring buildings,
 and finally to the Senate-house, which was consumed with all the treasures
 of ancient Greek art of which Constantine had made it the repository.
 
 Meanwhile the exiled John was banished to a dreary mountain fastness in
 Cappadocia, and afterwards condemned to a still more remote prison at
 Pityus on the Euxine. He died on his way thither, leaving a wonderful
 reputation for patience and cheerfulness under affliction. This
 fifth-century Becket was well-nigh the only patriarch of Constantinople
 who ever fell out with the imperial Court on a question of morals as
 distinguished from dogma. Chrysostom's quarrel was with the luxury,
 insolence, and frivolity of the Empress and her Court; no real
 ecclesiastical question was involved in his deposition, for the charges
 against him were mere pretexts to cover the hatred of his disloyal clergy
 and the revenge of the insulted Aelia Eudoxia. [A.D. 407.]