JANUARY XXVI.
ST. POLYCARP, BISHOP OF SMYRNA, M.
From his acts, written by the church of Smyrna in an excellent circular letter to the churches of Pontus, immediately after his martyrdom: a piece abridged by Eusebius, b. 4, c. 14, highly esteemed by the ancients. Joseph Scaliger, a supercilious critic, says that nothing in the whole course of church history so strongly affected him, as the perusal of these acts, and those relating to the martyrs of Lyons: that he never read them but they gave him extraordinary emotions. Animad. in Chron. Eusebii, n. 2183, &c. They are certainly most valuable pieces of Christian antiquity. See Eusebius, St. Jerom, and St. Irenæus. Also Tillemont, t. 2, p. 327. Dom Ceillier, t. 1. Dom Marechal, Concordance des Peres Grecs et Latins, t. 1.
A.D. 166.
ST. POLYCARP was one of the most illustrious of the apostolic fathers, who, being the immediate disciples of the apostles, received instructions from their mouths, and inherited of them the spirit of Christ, in a degree so much the more eminent, as they lived nearer the fountain head. He embraced Christianity very young, about the year 80; was a disciple of the apostles, in particular of St. John the Evangelist, and was constituted by him bishop of Smyrna, probably before his banishment to Patmos, in 96: so that he governed that important see seventy years. He seems to have been the angel or bishop of Smyrna, who was commended above all the bishops of Asia by Christ himself in the Apocalypse,[1] and the only one without a reproach. Our Saviour encouraged him under his poverty, tribulation, and persecutions, especially the calumnies of the Jews, called him rich in grace, and promised him the crown of life by martyrdom. This saint was respected by the faithful to a degree of veneration. He formed many holy disciples, among whom were St. Irenæus and Papias. When Florinus, who had often visited St. Polycarp, had broached certain heresies, St. Irenæus wrote to him as follows:[2] "These things were not taught you by the bishops who preceded us. I could tell you the place where the blessed Polycarp sat to preach the word of God. It is yet present to my mind with what gravity he everywhere came in and went out: what was the sanctity of his deportment, the majesty of his countenance and of his whole exterior, and what were his holy exhortations to the people. I seem to hear him now relate how he conversed with John and many others, who had seen Jesus Christ; the words he had heard from their mouths. I can protest before God, that if this holy bishop had heard of any error like yours, he would have immediately stopped his ears, and cried out, according to his custom: Good God! that I should be reserved to these times to hear such things! That very instant he would have fled out of the place in which he had heard such doctrine." St. Jerom[3] mentions, that St. Polycarp met at Rome the heretic Marcion, in the streets, who resenting that the holy bishop did not take that notice of him which he expected, said to him: "Do not you {224} know me, Polycarp?" "Yes," answered the saint, "I know you to be the first-born of Satan." He had learned this abhorrence of the authors of heresy, who knowingly and willingly adulterate the divine truths, from his master St. John, who fled out of the bath in which he saw Cerinthus.[4] St. Polycarp kissed with respect the chains of St. Ignatius, who passed by Smyrna on the road to his martyrdom, and who recommended to our saint the care and comfort of his distant church of Antioch; which he repeated to him in a letter from Troas, desiring him to write in his name to those churches of Asia to which he had not leisure to write himself.[5] St. Polycarp {225} wrote a letter to the Philippians shortly after, which is highly commended by St. Irenæus, St. Jerom, Eusebius, Photius, and others, and is still extant. It is justly admired both for the excellent instructions it contains, and for the simplicity and perspicuity of the style; and was publicly read in the church in Asia, in St. Jerom's time. In it he calls a heretic, as above, the eldest son of Satan. About the year 158, he undertook a journey of charity to Rome, to confer with pope Anicetus about certain points of discipline, especially about the time of keeping Easter, for the Asiatic churches kept it on the fourteenth day of the vernal equinoctial moon, as the Jews did, on whatever day of the week it fell; whereas Rome, Egypt, and all the West, observed it on the Sunday following. It was agreed that both might follow their custom without breaking the bands of charity. St. Anicetus, to testify his respect, yielded to him the honor of celebrating the Eucharist in his own church.[6] We find no further particulars concerning our saint recorded before the acts of his martyrdom.
In the sixth year of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, Statius Quadrates being proconsul of Asia, a violent persecution broke out in that country, in which the faithful gave heroic proofs of their courage and love of God, to the astonishment of the infidels. When they were torn to pieces with scourges till their very bowels were laid bare, amidst the moans and tears of the spectators, who were moved with pity at the sight of their torments, not one of them gave so much as a single groan: so little regard had they for their own flesh in the cause of God. No kinds of torture, no inventions of cruelty were forborne to force them to a conformity to the pagan worship of the times. Germanicus, who had been brought to Smyrna with eleven or twelve other Christians, signalized himself above the rest, and animated the most timorous to suffer. The proconsul in the amphitheatre called upon him with tenderness, entreating him to have some regard for his youth, and to value at least his life: but he, with a holy impatience, provoked the beasts to devour him, to leave this wicked world. One Quintus, a Phrygian, who had presented himself to the judge, yielded at the sight of the beast let out upon him, and sacrificed. The authors of these acts justly condemn the presumption of those who offered themselves to suffer,[7] and says that the martyrdom of St. Polycarp was conformable to the gospel, because he exposed not himself to the temptation, but waited till the persecutors laid hands on him, as Christ our Lord taught us by his own example. The same venerable authors observe, that the martyrs by their patience and constancy demonstrated to all men, that, while their bodies were tormented, they were in spirit estranged from the flesh, and already in heaven; or rather that our Lord was present with them and assisted them; for the fire of the barbarous executioners seemed as if it had been a cooling refreshment to them.[8] The spectators, seeing the courage of Germanicus and his companions, and being fond of their impious bloody diversions, cried out: "Away with the impious; let Polycarp be sought for." The holy man, though fearless, had been prevailed upon by his friends to withdraw and conceal himself in a neighboring village during the storm, spending most of his time in prayer. Three days before his martyrdom, he in a vision saw his pillow on fire; from which he understood by revelation, and {226} foretold his companions, that he should be burnt alive. When the persecutors were in quest of him he changed his retreat, but was betrayed by a boy, who was threatened with the rack unless he discovered him. Herod, the Irenarch, or keeper of the peace, whose office it was to prevent misdemeanors and apprehend malefactors, sent horsemen by night to beset his lodgings. The saint was above stairs in bed, but refused to make his escape, saying: "God's will be done." He went down, met them at the door, ordered them a handsome supper, and desired only some time for prayer before he went with them. This granted, he began his prayer standing, which he continued in that posture for two hours, recommending to God his own flock and the whole church with so much earnestness and devotion, that several of those that were come to seize him repented they had undertaken the commission. They set him on an ass, and were conducting him towards the city, when he was met on the road by Herod and his father Nicetes, who took him into their chariot, and endeavored to persuade him to a little compliance, saying: "What harm is there in saying Lord Cæsar, or even in sacrificing, to escape death?" By the word Lord was meant nothing less than a kind of deity or godhead. The bishop at first was silent, in imitation of our Saviour: but being pressed, he gave them this resolute answer: "I shall never do what you desire of me." At these words, taking off the mask of friendship and compassion, they treated him with scorn and reproaches, and thrust him out of the chariot with such violence, that his leg was bruised by the fall. The holy man went forward cheerfully to the place where the people were assembled. Upon his entering it, a voice from heaven was heard by many: "Polycarp, be courageous, and act manfully."[9] He was led directly to the tribunal of the proconsul, who exhorted him to respect his own age, to swear by the genius of Cæsar, and to say: "Take away the impious," meaning the Christians. The saint turning towards the people in the pit, said, with a stern countenance: "Exterminate the wicked," meaning by this expression either a wish that they might cease to be wicked by their conversion to the faith of Christ: or this was a prediction of the calamity which befell their city in 177, when Smyrna was overturned by an earthquake, as we read in Dion[10] and Aristides.[11] The proconsul repeated: "Swear by the genius of Cæsar, and I discharge you; blaspheme Christ." Polycarp replied: "I have served him these fourscore and six years, and he never did me any harm, but much good; and how can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour? If you require of me to swear by the genius of Cæsar, as you call it, hear my free confession: I am a Christian; but if you desire to learn the Christian religion, appoint a time, and hear me." The proconsul said: "Persuade the people." The martyr replied: "I addressed my discourse to you; for we are taught to give due honor to princes as far as is consistent with religion. But the populace is an incompetent judge to justify myself before." Indeed, rage rendered them incapable of hearing him.
The proconsul then assuming a tone of severity, said: "I have wild beasts:" "Call for them," replied the saint: "for we are unalterably resolved not to change from good to evil. It is only good to pass from evil to good." The proconsul said: "If you contemn the beasts, I will cause you to be burnt to ashes." Polycarp answered: "You threaten me with a fire which burns for a short time, and then goes out; but are yourself ignorant of the {227} judgment to come, and of the fire of everlasting torments which is prepared for the wicked. Why do you delay? Bring against me what you please." While he said thus and many other things, he appeared in a transport of joy and confidence, and his countenance shone with a certain heavenly grace, and pleasant cheerfulness, insomuch that the proconsul himself was struck with admiration. However, he ordered a crier to make public proclamation three times it the middle of the Stadium, (as was the Roman custom in capital cases:) "Polycarp hath confessed himself a Christian."[12] At this proclamation the whole multitude of Jews and Gentiles gave a great shout, the latter crying out: "This is the great teacher of Asia; the father of the Christians; the destroyer of our gods, who preaches to men not to sacrifice to or adore them." They applied to Philip the Asiarch,[13] to let loose a lion upon Polycarp. He told them that it was not in his power, because those shows had been closed. Then they unanimously demanded that he should be burnt alive. Their request was no sooner granted, but every one ran with all speed to fetch wood from the baths and shops. The Jews were particularly active and busy on this occasion. The pile being prepared, Polycarp put off his garments, untied his girdle, and began to take off his shoes; an office he had not been accustomed to, the Christians having always striven who should do these things for him, regarding it as a happiness to be admitted to touch him. The wood and other combustibles were heaped all round him. The executioners would have nailed him to the stake; but he said to them: "Suffer me to be as I am. He who gives me grace to undergo this fire, will enable me to stand still without that precaution." They therefore contented themselves with tying his hands behind his back, and in this posture, looking up towards heaven, he prayed as follows: "O Almighty Lord God, Father of thy beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the knowledge of thee, God of angels, powers, and every creature, and of all the race of the just that live in thy presence! I bless thee for having been pleased in thy goodness to bring me to this hour, that I may receive a portion in the number of thy martyrs, and partake of the chalice of thy Christ, for the resurrection to eternal life, in the incorruptibleness of the holy Spirit. Amongst whom grant me to be received this day as a pleasing sacrifice, such an one as thou thyself hast prepared, that so thou mayest accomplish what thou, O true and faithful God! hast foreshown. Wherefore, for all things I praise, bless, and glorify thee, through the eternal high priest Jesus Christ thy beloved Son, with whom, to Thee and the Holy Ghost be glory now and for ever. Amen." He had scarce said Amen, when fire was set to the pile, which increased to a mighty flame. But behold a wonder, say the authors of these acts, seen by us, reserved to attest it to others; the flames forming themselves into an arch, like the sails of a ship swelled with the wind, gently encircled the body of the martyr, which stood in the middle, resembling not roasted flesh, but purified gold or silver, appearing bright through the flames; and his body sending forth such a fragrancy, that we seemed to smell precious spices. The blind infidels were only exasperated to see his body could not be consumed, and ordered a spearman to pierce him through, which he did, and such a quantity of blood issued out of his left side as to quench the fire.[14] The malice of the devil ended not here: {228} he endeavored to obstruct the relics of the martyr being carried off by the Christians; for many desired to do it, to show their respect to his body. Therefore, by the suggestion of Satan, Nicetes advised the proconsul not to bestow it on the Christians, lest, said he, abandoning the crucified man, they should adore Polycarp: the Jews suggested this, "Not knowing," say the authors of the acts, "that we can never forsake Christ, nor adore any other, though we love the martyrs, as his disciples and imitators, for the great love they bore their king and master." The centurion, seeing a contest raised by the Jews, placed the body in the middle, and burnt it to ashes. "We afterwards took up the bones," say they, "more precious than the richest jewels or gold, and deposited them decently in a place at which may God grant us to assemble with joy, to celebrate the birth-day of the martyr." Thus these disciples and eye-witnesses. It was at two o'clock in the afternoon, which the authors of the acts call the eighth hour, in the year 166, that St. Polycarp received his crown, according to Tillemont; but, in 169, according to Basnage.[15] His tomb is still shown with great veneration at Smyrna, in a small chapel. St. Irenæus speaks of St. Polycarp as being of an uncommon age.
* * * * *
The epistle of St. Polycarp to the Philippians, which is the only one among those which he wrote that has been preserved, is, even in the dead letter, a standing proof of the apostolic spirit with which he was animated, and of that profound humility, perfect meekness, burning charity, and holy zeal, of which his life was so admirable an example. The beginning is an effusion of spiritual joy and charity with which he was transported at the happiness of their conversion to God, and their fervor in divine love. His extreme abhorrence of heresy makes him immediately fall upon that of the Docætæ, against which he arms the faithful, by clearly demonstrating that Christ was truly made man, died, and rose again: in which his terms admirably express his most humble and affectionate devotion to our divine Redeemer, under these great mysteries of love. Besides walking in truth, he takes notice, that to be raised with Christ in glory, we must also do his will, keep all his commandments, and love whatever he loved; refraining from all fraud, avarice, detraction, and rash judgment; repaying evil with good, forgiving and showing mercy to others that we ourselves may find mercy. "These things," says he, "I write to you on justice, because you incited me; for neither I, nor any other like me, can attain to the wisdom of the blessed and glorious Paul, into whose epistles if you look, you may raise your spiritual fabric by strengthening faith, which is our mother, hope following, and charity towards God, Christ, and our neighbor preceding us. He who has charity is far from all sin." The saint gives short instructions to every particular state, then adds; "Every one who hath not confessed that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh, is antichrist;[16] and who hath not confessed the suffering of the cross, is of the devil; and who hath drawn the oracles of the Lord to his passions, and hath said that there is no resurrection nor judgment, he is the oldest son of Satan." He exhorts to watching always in prayer, lest we be led into temptation; to be constant in fasting, persevering, joyful in hope, and in the pledge of our justice, which is Christ {229} Jesus, imitating his patience; for, by suffering for his name, we glorify him. To encourage them to suffer, he reminds them of those who had suffered before their eyes: Ignatius, Zozimus, and Rufus, and some of their own congregation,[17] "who are now," says our saint, "in the place which is due to them with the Lord, with whom they also suffered."
Footnotes: 1. Ch. ii. v. 9. 2. Eus. Hist. l. 5, c. 20, p. 188. 3. Cat. vir. illustr. c. 17. 4. See also 1 John ii. 18, 22, and 2 John 10. 5. St. Ignatius begins his letter to the faithful at Smyrna, by glorifying God for their great spiritual wisdom, saying he knew them to be perfect in their unshaken faith, as men crucified with our Lord Jesus in flesh and in spirit, and deeply grounded in charity by the blood of Christ. He then solidly confutes the Docætæ, heretics who imagined that Christ was not incarnate, and died only in appearance; whom he calls demoniacs. He adds: "I give you this caution, knowing that you hold the true faith, but that you may stand upon your guard against these wild beasts in human shape, whom you ought not to receive under your roof, nor even meet if possible; and be content only to pray for them that they may be converted, if it be possible; for it is very difficult; though it is in the power of Jesus Christ, our true life. If Jesus Christ did all this in appearance only, then I am only chained in imagination; and why have I delivered myself up to death, to fire, to the sword, to beasts? but who is near the sword, is near God; he who is among beasts is with God. I suffer all things only in the name of Jesus Christ, that I may suffer with him, he giving me strength, who was made perfectly man. What does it avail me to be commended by any one, if he blasphemes our Lord, not confessing him to have flesh? The whole consists in faith and charity; nothing can take place before these. Now consider those who maintain a false opinion of the grace of Jesus Christ, how they also oppose charity; they take no care of the widow, or orphan, or him who is afflicted, or pining with hunger or thirst. They abstain from the Eucharist and prayer, (says he,) because they confess not the Eucharist to be the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which was crucified for our sins, and which the Father, by his goodness, raised again. It is advisable for you to separate yourselves from them, and neither to speak to them in public or in private. Shun schisms and all discord, as the source of evils. Follow your bishop as Christ his Father, and the college of priests as the apostles; respect the deacons as the precept of God. Let no one do any thing that belongs to the church without the bishop. Let that Eucharist be regarded as lawful which is celebrated by the bishop, or one commissioned by him. Wherever the bishop makes his appearance, there let the people be assembled, as wherever Christ Jesus is, there is the Catholic church. It is not lawful to baptize or celebrate the Agape without the bishop or his authority. What he approves of is acceptable to God. He who does any thing without the bishop's knowledge, serves the devil." The saint most affectionately thanks them for the kindness they had shown him and his followers; begs they will depute some person to his church in Syria, to congratulate with his flock for the peace which God had restored to them, adding that he was unworthy to be called a member of that church of which he was the last. He asks the succor of their prayers, that by them he might enjoy God. "Seeing," says he, "that you are perfect, entertain perfect sentiments of virtue: for God is ready to bestow on you who desire to do well." After the most tender salutations of many in particular, and of all in general, especially the virgins who were called widows, (i.e. the deaconesses, who were called widows, because they were often such, though these were virgins,) he closes his letter by praying for their advancement in all charity, grace, mercy, peace, and patience. St. Ign. ep. ad Smyrnæos, p. 872, ed. Cotel.
The apostolic St. Ignatius writes as follows, in his letter to St. Polycarp. "Thy resolution in God, founded as it were upon an unshaken rock, I exceedingly commend, having been made worthy of thy holy face, which I pray I may enjoy in God. I conjure thee in the grace with which thou art enriched, to increase thy stock in thy course, and to exhort all that they may be saved. Have great care of unity and concord, than which nothing is better. Bear with all men, that God may bear with thee; bear all men by charity, as thou dost apply thyself to prayer without interruption. Ask more perfect understanding than thou hast. Watch, seeing that the spirit which sleepeth not, dwelleth within thee. Speak to every one according to the grace which God giveth thee. Bear the weaknesses and distemper of all as a stout champion. Where the labor is greater, the gain is exceeding great. If thou lovest the disciples that are good, thou deservest not thanks; strive rather to subdue the wicked by meekness. Every wound is not healed by the same plaster; assuage inflammations by lenitives. Be not intimidated by those who seem worthy of faith, yet teach things that are foreign. Stand firm, as an anvil which is beaten: it is the property of a true champion to be struck and to conquer. Let not the widows be neglected. Let religious assemblies be most frequent. Seek out every one in them by name. Despise not the slaves, neither suffer them to be puffed up; but to the glory of God let them serve with greater diligence, that they may obtain of God a better liberty. Let them not desire that their liberty be purchased or procured for them by the congregation, lest they fall under the slavery of their own passions. Fly evil artifices; let them not be so much as named. Engage my sisters to love the Lord, and never entertain a thought of any man but their husbands. In like manner enjoin my brethren, in the name of Jesus Christ, to love their wives as Christ loveth his church. If any one is able to remain in a state of continency, in honor of our Lord's flesh, let him be constantly humble: if he boasts, or is puffed up, he is lost. Let all marriages be made by the authority of the bishop, that they may be made in the Lord, not by the passions of men. Let all things be done to the honor of God." Then addressing himself to all the faithful at Smyrna, he writes: "Listen to your bishop, that God may also hearken to you. With joy I would lay down my life for those who are subject to the bishop, priests, and deacons. May my portion be with them in God. Let all things be in common among you: your labor, your warfare, your sufferings, your rest, and your watching, as becomes the dispensers, the assessors, and the servants of God. Please hi, in whose service you fight, and from whom you receive your salary. Let your baptism be always your weapons, faith your helmet, charity your spear, and patience your complete armor. Let your good works the the treasure which you lay up, that you may receive the fruit which is worthy. Bear with each other in all meekness, as God bears with you. I pray that I may always enjoy and rejoice in you. Because the church of Antioch by our prayers now enjoys peace, I am in mind secure in God; provided still that by suffering I may go to God, and be found in the resurrection your servant. You will do well, O Polycarp, most blessed in God, to hold an assembly, and choose a very dear person fit for dispatch in a journey, who may be styled the divine messenger; him honor with a commission to go to Antioch, and there bear witness of the fervor of your charity. A Christian lives not for himself alone, but belongs to God." The holy martyr concludes by desiring St. Polycarp to write for him to the other churches of Asia, he being at that moment called on board by his guards to sail from Troas to Naples. 6. St. Iren. b. 3, c. 3. Euseb. b. 5, c. 24. S. Hieron. c. 17. 7. N. 1, and 4. 8. [Greek: To tur hên autois psuxron to tôn apathôn basanitzôn.] Frigidis ipsis videbatur immanium carnificum ignis. n. 2, p. 1020. 9. Dr. Middleton pretends, that this voice was only heard by some few; but the acts in Ruinart say, by those who were present, [Greek: hoi parontes]: Eusebius says, [Greek: polloi]: Rufinus plurimi, very many. A voice from heaven must certainly be sensibly discerned to be more than human, and manifest itself sufficiently, to be perceived that it could not come from the crowd. 10. L. 71. 11. Or. 20, 21, 22, 41. 12. The great council of Asia seems to have been held at that time in Smyrna, instead of Ephesus, which the Arundelian marbles show sometimes to have been done. 13. Or president of the public games, chosen yearly by the common-council of Asia. 14. Dr. Middleton ridicules the mention of a dove issuing out of the wound of the side; but this is only found in some modern MSS. by the blunder of a transcriber: it is not in Eusebius, Rufinus, Nicephorus, or the Greek Menæa; though the last two would have magnified a prodigy if they had found the least authority for any. According to Le Moyen, (Proleg. ad varia sacra.) Ceillier, &c., the true reading is [Greek: ep apisera], on the left side; which some transcriber blundered into [Greek: perisera], a dove. As to the foregoing miracle, that a wind should naturally divest the fire of its property of burning, and form it into an arch about the body, is a much more wonderful supposition of the doctor's than any miracle. 15. St. Polycarp says himself, "That he had served Christ eighty-six years." Basnage thinks he had been bishop so long, and was a hundred and twenty years old when he suffered: but it is far more probable that this is the term he had been a Christian, having been converted in his youth, and dying about one hundred years old or upwards, as Tillemont understands it. 16. 1 John iv. 3. 17. Some of the Philippians had seen St. Ignatius in chains, and perhaps at Rome. The primitive martyrs, Zozimus and Rufus, are commemorated in the Martyrologies on the 18th of December.
ST. PAULA, WIDOW.
This illustrious pattern of widows surpassed all other Roman ladies in riches, birth, and the endowments of mind. She was born on the 5th of May, in 347. The blood of the Scipios, the Gracchi, and Paulus Æmilius, was centred in her by her mother Blesilla. Her father derived his pedigree from Agamemnon, and her husband Toxotius his from Iulus and Æneas. By him she had a son called also Toxotius, and four daughters, namely, Blesilla, Paulina, Eustochium, and Rufina. She shone a bright pattern of virtue in the married state, and both she and her husband edified Rome by their good example; but her virtue was not without its alloy; a certain degree of the love of the world being almost inseparable from honors and high life. She did not discern the secret attachments of her heart, nor feel the weight of her own chains: she had neither courage to break them, nor light whereby to take a clear and distinct view of her spiritual poverty and misery. God, compassionating her weakness, was pleased in his mercy to open her eyes by violence, and sent her the greatest affliction that could befall her in the death of her husband, when she was only thirty-two years of age. Her grief was immoderate till such time as she was encouraged to devote herself totally to God, by the exhortations of her friend St. Marcella, a holy widow, who then edified Rome by her penitential life. Paula, thus excited to set aside her sorrow, erected in her heart the standard of the cross of Jesus Christ, and courageously resolved to walk after it. From that time, she never sat at table with any man, not even with any of the holy bishops and saints whom she entertained. She abstained from all flesh meat, fish, eggs, honey, and wine; used oil only on holydays; lay on a stone floor covered with sackcloth; renounced all visits and worldly amusements, laid aside all costly garments, and gave every thing to the poor which it was in her power to dispose of. She was careful in inquiring after the necessitous, and deemed it a loss on her side if any other hands than her own administered relief to them. It was usual with her to say, that she could not make a better provision for her children, than to secure for them by alms the blessings of heaven. Her occupation was prayer, pious reading, and fasting. She could not bear the distraction of company, which interrupted her commerce with God; and, if ever she sought conversation, it was with the servants of God for her own edification. She lodged St. Epiphanius and St. Paulinus of Antioch, when they came to Rome; and St. Jerom was her director in the service of God, during his stay in that city for two years and a half, under pope Damasus. Her eldest daughter Blesilla, having, in a short time after marriage, lost her husband, came to a resolution of forsaking the world, but died before she could compass her pious design. The mother felt this affliction too sensibly. St. Jerom, who at that time was newly arrived at Bethlehem, in 384, wrote to her both to comfort and reprove her.[1] He first condoles their common loss; but adds {230} that God is master, that we are bound to rejoice in his will, always holy and just, to thank and praise him for all things; and, above all, not to mourn for a death at which the angels attend, and for one who by it departs to enjoy Christ: and that it is only the continuation of our banishment which we ought to lament. "Blesilla," says he, "has received her crown, dying in the fervor of her resolution, in which she had purified her soul near four months." He adds, that Christ seemed to reproach her grief in these terms: "Art thou angry, O Paula! that thy daughter is made mine? Thou art offended at my providence, and by thy rebellious tears, thou dost offer an injury to me who possess her."[2] He pardons some tears in a mother, occasioned by the involuntary sensibility of nature; but calls her excess in them a scandal to religion, abounding with sacrilege and infidelity: adding, that Blesilla herself mourned, as far as her happy state would allow, to see her offend Christ, and cried out to her; "Envy not my glory: commit not what may forever separate us. I am not alone. Instead of you I have the mother of God, I have many companions whom I never knew before. You mourn for me because I have left the world; and I pity your prison and dangers in it." Paula afterwards, completing the victory over herself, showed herself greatly superior to this weakness. Her second daughter Paulina was married to St. Pammachius, and died in 397. Eustochium, the third, was her individual companion. Rufina died young.
The greater progress Paula made in spiritual exercises, and in the relish of heavenly things, the more insupportable to her was the tumultuous life of the city. She sighed after the deserts, longed to be disincumbered of attendants, and to live in a hermitage, where her heart would have no other occupation than on God. The thirst after so great a happiness made her ready to forget her house, family, riches, and friends; yet never did mother love her children more tenderly.[3] At the thought of leaving them her bowels yearned, and being in an agony of grief, she seemed as if she had been torn from herself. But in this she was the most wonderful of mothers, that while she felt in her soul the greatest emotions of tenderness, she knew how to keep them within due bounds. The strength of her faith gave her an ascendant over the sentiments of nature, and she even desired this cruel separation, bearing it with joy, out of a pure and heroic love of God. She had indeed taken a previous care to have all her children brought up saints; otherwise her design would have been unjustifiable. Being therefore fixed in her resolution, and having settled her affairs, she went to the water side, attended by her brother, relations, friends, and children, who all strove by their tears to overcome her constancy. Even when the vessel was ready to sail, her little son Toxotius, with uplifted hands on the shore, and bitterly weeping, begged her not to leave him. The rest, who were not able to speak with gushing tears, prayed her to defer at least her voluntary banishment. But Paula, raising her dry eyes to heaven, turned her face from the shore, lest she should discover what she could not behold without feeling the most sensible pangs of sorrow. She sailed first to Cyprus, where she was detained ten days by St. Epiphanius; and from thence to Syria. Her long journeys by land she performed on the backs of asses; she, who till then had been accustomed to be carried about by eunuchs in litters. She visited with great devotion all the principal places which we read to have been consecrated by the mysteries of the life of our divine Redeemer, as also the respective abodes of all the principal anchorets and holy solitaries of Egypt and Syria. At Jerusalem the proconsul had prepared a stately palace richly furnished for her reception; but excusing herself with regard {231} to the proffered favor, she chose to lodge in an humble cell. In this holy place her fervor was redoubled at the sight of each sacred monument, as St. Jerom describes. She prostrated herself before the holy cross, pouring forth her soul in love and adoration, as if she had beheld our Saviour still bleeding upon it. On entering the sepulchre, she kissed the stone which she angel removed on the occasion of our Lord's resurrection, and imparted many kisses full of faith and devotion to the place where the body of Christ had been laid. On her arrival at Bethlehem, she entered the cave or stable in which the Saviour of the world was born, and she saluted the crib with tears of joy, crying out; "I, a miserable sinner, am made worthy to kiss the manger, in which my Lord was pleased to be laid an infant babe weeping for me! This is my dwelling-place, because it was the country chosen by my Lord for himself."
After her journeys of devotion, in which she distributed immense alms, she settled at Bethlehem with her daughter Eustochium, under the direction of St. Jerom. The three first years she spent there in a poor little house; but in the mean time she took care to have a hospital built on the road to Jerusalem, as also a monastery for St. Jerom and his monks, whom she maintained; besides three monasteries for women, which properly made but one house, for all assembled in the same chapel to perform together the divine service day and night; and on Sundays in the church that was adjoining. At prime, tierce, sext, none, vespers, complin, and the midnight office, they daily sung the whole psalter, which every sister was obliged to know by heart. Their food was very coarse and temperate, their fasts frequent and austere. All the sisters worked with their hands, and made clothes for themselves and others. All wore the same uniform poor habit, and used no linen except for the wiping of their hands. No man was ever suffered to set a foot within their doors. Paula governed them with a charity full of discretion, animating them in the practice of every virtue by her own example and instructions, being always the first, or among the first, in every duty; sharing with her daughter Eustochium in all the drudgery and meanest offices of the house, and appearing everywhere as the last of her sisters. She severely reprimanded a studied neatness in dress, which she called an uncleanness of the mind. If any one was found talkative, or angry, she was separated from the rest, ordered to walk the last in order, to pray at the outside of the door, and for some time to eat alone. The holy abbess was so tender of the sick, that she sometimes allowed them to eat flesh-meat, but would not admit of the same indulgence in her own ailments, nor even allow herself a drop of wine in the water she drank. She extended her love of poverty to her buildings and churches, ordering them all to be built low, and without any thing costly or magnificent; she said that money is better laid out on the poor, who are the living members of Christ. She wept so bitterly for the smallest faults, that others would have thought her guilty of grievous crimes. Under an overflow of natural grief for the death of her children, she made frequent signs of the cross on her mouth and breast to overcome nature, and remained always perfectly resigned in her soul to the will of God. Her son Toxotius married Læta, daughter to a priest of the idols, but, as to herself, she was a most virtuous Christian. Both were faithful imitators of the sanctity of our saint. Their daughter, Paula the younger, was sent to Bethlehem. to be under the care of her grandmother, whom she afterwards succeeded in the government of that monastery. St. Jerom wrote to Læta some excellent lessons[4] for the education of this girl, which parents can never read too often. Our saint lived {232} fifty-six years and eight months, of which she had spent in her widowhood five at Rome, and almost twenty at Bethlehem. In her last illness, but especially in her agony, she repeated almost without intermission certain verses of the psalms, which express an ardent desire of the heavenly Jerusalem, and of being united to God. When she was no longer able to speak, she formed the sign of the cross on her lips, and expired in the most profound peace, on the 26th of January, 404. Her corpse, carried by bishops, and attended with lighted wax torches, was interred on the 28th of the same month, in the midst of the church of the holy manger. Her tomb is still shown in the same place, near that of St. Jerom, but empty: even the Latin epitaph which St. Jerom composed in verse, and caused to be engraved on her tomb, is erased or removed, though extant in the end of this letter which he addressed to her daughter. Her relics are said to be in the possession of the metropolitical church at Sens, and the feast of St. Paula is kept a holiday of precept in that city on the 27th of January; on which day her name is placed by Ado, Usuard, &c., because she died on the 26th, after sunset, and the Jews in Palestine began the day from sunset: but her name occurs on the 26th in the Roman Martyrology, &c. See her life in St. Jerom's letter to her daughter, called her epitaph, ep. 86, &c.
Footnotes: 1. Ep. 22, ol. 54. 2. Rebellibus lachrymis injurian facis possidenti. 3. Nulla sic amabat filios, &c. St. Heir {} epitaph. Paulæ. 4. Ep. 57, ol. 7.
ST. CONON, BISHOP OF THE ISLE OF MAN.
IF we can give credit to some lives of St. Fiaker, and the old breviary of Limoges, that saint was son of Eusenius, king of Scotland, and by his father committed in his childhood, with his two brothers, to the care of St. Conon, from which saintly education he received that ardent love and perfect spirit of piety, by which he was distinguished during the whole course of his life. Conon, by the purity and fervor in which he served God, was a saint from his infancy. The Isle of Man, which was a famous ancient seat of the Druids, is said to have received the seeds of the Christian faith by the zeal of St. Patrick. St. Conon, passing thither from Scotland, completed that great work, and is said to have been made bishop of Man, or of Sodor, supposed by these authors to have been anciently, a town in this island. This bishopric was soon after united with that of the Hebrides or the Western islands, which see was fixed in the isle of Hi, Iona or Y-colmkille. St. Conon died in the isle of Man, about the year 648. His name continued, to the change of religion, in great veneration throughout the Hebrides, or islands on the West of Scotland.[1] On St. Conon, see Leslie, Hist. of Scotland, &c.
Footnotes: 1. In some few of these islands, the laird and all the inhabitants remain still Catholics; as Banbecuis, under Ranal Mac Donald; South-Vist, under Alan Mac Donald of Moydart, whose ancestors were once kings of these islands; Barry under Mac Neil; Canny, and Egg, and some others. In many others there are long since no Catholics, as in Lewis, North-Vist, Harries, St. Kilda, &c. See the latest edition of the Present State of England and bishop Leslie's nephew, in his MS. account, &c.
{233}
JANUARY XXVII.
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM,
ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, AND DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH.
From Socrates, Theodoret, and other historians: as also from the saint's works; and his life, written by way of dialogue, with great fidelity, by his friend and strenuous advocate Palladius, a holy bishop, but a distinct person from Palladius the bishop of Helenopolis and author of the Lausiac history, who was then young, and is evidently distinguished by this writer in many places, as Tillemont, Montfaucon, and Stilting show against Baillet and others; though also Palladius, bishop of Helenopolis, exerted himself in defence of St. Chrysostom. Palladius, author of the Dialogue on the life of St. Chrysostom, was never accused of Origenism except by those who, at least in the proofs alleged for this charge, confounded him with the bishop of Helenopolis. F. Stilting clears also the latter from the charge of Origenism, and answers the arguments produced by Baronius against him. Comm. Hist. §1, p. 404. The later Greek panegyrists, George, patriarch of Alexandria, in 620, the emperor Leo the Wise, in 890, &c., deserve very little notice. See the life of our saint compiled by Dom Montfaucon. Op. t. 13. And lastly, the accurate commentary on his life given by F. Stilting the Bollandist, on the 14th of September, from p. 401 to 709, t. 4.
A.D. 407.
THIS incomparable doctor, on account of the fluency and sweetness of his eloquence, obtained soon after his death the surname of Chrysostom, or Golden Mouth, which we find given him by St. Ephrem of Antioch, Theodoret, and Cassiodorus. But his tender piety, and his undaunted courage and zeal in the cause of virtue, are titles far more glorious, by which he holds an eminent place among the greatest pastors and saints of the church. About the year 344, according to F. Stilting, Antioch, the capital city of the East, was ennobled by his illustrious birth. He had one elder sister, and was the only son and heir of Secundus, master of the horse, that is, chief commander of the imperial troops in Syria. His mother, Anthusa, left a widow at twenty years of age, continued such the remainder of her life, dividing her time between the care of her family and the exercises of devotion. Her example in this respect made such an impression on our saint's master, a celebrated pagan sophist, that he could not forbear crying out, "What wonderful women have the Christians!"[1] She managed the estate of her children with great prudence and frugality, knowing this to be part of her duty to God, but she was sensible that their spiritual instruction in virtue was of infinitely greater importance. From their cradle she instilled into them the most perfect maxims of piety, and contempt of the world. The ancient Romans dreaded nothing more in the education of youth, than their being ill taught the first principles of the sciences; it being more difficult to unlearn the errors then imbibed, than to begin on a mere tabula rasa, or blank paper. Wherefore Anthusa provided her son the ablest masters in every branch of literature, which the empire at that time afforded. Eloquence was esteemed the highest accomplishment, especially among the nobility, and was the surest means of raising men to the first dignities in the state. John studied that art under Libanius, the most famous orator of that age; and such was his proficiency, that even in his youth he excelled his masters. Libanius being asked by his pagan friends on his death-bed, about the year 390, who should succeed him in his school: "John," said he, "had not the Christians stolen him from us."[2] Our saint was then priest. While he was only a scholar, that sophist one day read to an assembly of orators a declamation composed by him, and it was received with unusual tokens {234} of admiration and applause. Libanius pronounced the young orator happy, "as were also the emperors," he said, "who reigned at a time when the world was possessed of so great a treasure."[3] The progress of the young scholar in philosophy, under Andragatius, was no less rapid and surprising; his genius shone in every disputation. All this time his principal care was to study Christ, and to learn his spirit. He laid a solid foundation of virtue, by a perfect humility, self-denial, and a complete victory over himself. Though naturally hot and inclined to anger, he had extinguished all emotions of passion in his breast.[4] His modesty, meekness, tender charity, and singular discretion, rendered him the delight of all he conversed with.
The first dignities of the empire were open to John. But his principal desire was to dedicate himself to God, without reserve, in holy solitude. However, not being yet twenty years of age, he for some time pleaded at the bar. In that employment he was drawn by company into the diversions of the world, and sometimes assisted at the entertainments of the stage. His virtue was in imminent danger of splitting against that fatal rock, when God opened his eyes. He was struck with horror at the sight of the precipice upon the brink of which he stood; and not content to flee from it himself, he never ceased to bewail his blindness, and took every occasion to caution the faithful against that lurking place of hellish sirens, but more particularly in his vehement sermons against the stage. Alarmed at the danger he had narrowly escaped, full of gratitude to God his deliverer, and to prevent the like danger for the time to come, he was determined to carry his resolution of renouncing the world into immediate execution. He began by the change of his garb, to rid himself the more easily of the importunities of friends: for a penitential habit is not only a means for preserving a spirit of mortification and humility, but is also a public sign and declaration to the world, that a person has turned his back on its vanities, and is engaged in an irreconcilable war against them. His clothing was a coarse gray coat: he watched much, fasted every day, and spent the greater part of his time in prayer and meditation on the holy scriptures: his bed was no other than the hard floor. In subduing his passions, he found none of so difficult a conquest as vain-glory;[5] this enemy he disarmed by embracing every kind of public humiliation. The clamors of his old friends and admirers, who were incensed at his leaving them, and pursued him with their invectives and censures, were as arrows shot at random. John took no manner of notice of them: he rejoiced in contempt, and despised the frowns of a world whose flatteries he dreaded: Christ crucified was the only object of his heart, and nothing could make him look back after he had put his hand to the plough. And his progress in virtue was answerable to his zealous endeavors.
St. Meletius, bishop of Antioch, called the young ascetic to the service of the church, gave him suitable instructions, during three years, in his own palace, and ordained him Reader. John had learned the art of silence, in his retirement, with far greater application than he had before studied that of speaking. This he discovered when he appeared again in the world, though no man ever possessed a greater fluency of speech, or a more ready and enchanting eloquence, joined with the most solid judgment and a rich fund of knowledge and good sense; yet in company he observed a modest silence, and regarded talkativeness as an enemy to the interior recollection of the heart, as a source of many sins and indiscretions, and as a mark of vanity and self-conceit. He heard the words of the wise with the humble docility of a scholar, and he bore the impertinence, trifles, and blunders of {235} fools in discourse, not to interrupt the attention of his soul to God, or to make an ostentatious show of his eloquence or science: yet with spiritual persons he conversed freely on heavenly things, especially with a pious friend named Basil, one of the same age and inclinations with himself, who had been his most beloved school-fellow, and who forsook the world to embrace a monastic life, a little before our saint. After three years, he left the bishop's house to satisfy the importunities of his mother, but continued the same manner of life in her house, during the space of two years. He still saw frequently his friend Basil, and he prevailed on two of his school-fellows under Libanius to embrace an ascetic life; Theodorus, afterwards bishop of Mopsuestia, and Maximus, bishop of Seleucia. The former returned in a short time to the bar, and fell in love with a young lady called Hermione. John lamented his fall with bitter tears before God, and brought him back to his holy institute by two tender and pathetic exhortations to penance, "which breathe an eloquence above the power of what seems merely human," says Sozomen. Not long after, hearing that the bishops of the province were assembled at Antioch, and deliberated to raise him and Basil to the episcopal dignity, he privately withdrew, and lay hid till the vacant sees were filled. Basil was made bishop of Raphanæa near Antioch; and had no other resource in his grief for his promotion, but in tears and complaints against his friend who had betrayed him into so perilous a charge. John, being then twenty-six years old, wrote to him in his own justification six incomparable books, Of the Priesthood.
Four years after, in 374, he retired into the mountains near Antioch, among certain holy anchorets who peopled them, and whose manner of life is thus described by our saint:[6] They devoted all the morning to prayer, pious reading, and meditating on the holy scriptures. Their food was bread with a little salt; some added oil, and those who were very weak, a few herbs or pulse; no one ever ate before sunset. After the refection it was allowed to converse with one another, but only on heavenly things. They always closed their night-prayers with the remembrance of the last judgment, to excite themselves to a constant watchfulness and preparation; which practice St. Chrysostom earnestly recommends to all Christians with the evening examination.[7] These monks had no other bed than a mat spread on the bare ground. Their garments were made of the rough hair of goats or camels, or of old skins, and such as the poorest beggars would not wear, though some of them were of the richest families, and had been tenderly brought up. They wore no shoes; no one possessed any thing as his own; even their poor necessaries were all in common. They inherited their estates only to distribute them among the poor; and on them, and in hospitality to strangers, they bestowed all the spare profits of their work. They all used the same food, wore a uniform habit, and by charity were all one heart. The cold words mine and thine, the baneful source of lawsuits and animosities among men, were banished from their cells. They rose at the first crowing of the cock, that is, at midnight, being called up by the superior; and after the morning hymns and psalms, that is, matins and lauds, all remained in their private cells, where they read the holy scriptures, and some copied books. All met in the church at the canonical hours of tierce, sext, none, and vespers, but returned to their cells, none being allowed to speak, to jest, or to be one moment idle. The time which others spend a table, or in diversions, they employed in honoring God; even their meal took up very little time, and after a short sleep, (according to the custom of hot countries,) {236} they resumed their exercises, conversing not with men but with God, with the prophets and apostles in their writings and pious meditation; and spiritual things were the only subject of their entertainment. For corporal exercise they employed themselves in some mean manual labor, such as entertained them in humility, and could not inspire vanity or pride: they made baskets, tilled and watered the earth, hewed wood, attended the kitchen, washed the feet of all strangers, and waited on them without distinction, whether they were rich or poor. The saint adds, that anger, jealousy, envy, grief, and anxiety for worldly goods and concerns, were unknown in these poor cells; and he assures us, that the constant peace, joy, and pleasure which reigned in them, were as different from the bitterness and tumultuous scenes of the most brilliant worldly felicity, as the security and calmness of the most agreeable harbor are, from the dangers and agitation of the most tempestuous ocean. Such was the rule of these cenobites, or monks who lived in community. There were also hermits on the same mountains who lay on ashes, wore sackcloth, and shut themselves up in frightful caverns, practising more extraordinary austerities. Our saint was at first apprehensive that he should find it an insupportable difficulty to live without fresh bread, use the same stinking oil for his food and for his lamp, and inure his body to hard labor under so great austerities.[8] But by courageously despising this apprehension, in consequence of a resolution to spare nothing by which he might learn perfectly to die to himself; he found the difficulty entirely to vanish in the execution. Experience shows that in such undertakings, the imagination is alarmed not so much by realities as phantoms, which vanish before a courageous heart which can look them in the face with contempt. Abbot Rancé, the reformer of la Trappe, found more difficulty in the thought of rising without a fire in winter, in the beginning of his conversion, than he did in the greatest severities which he afterwards practised. St. Chrysostom passed four years under the conduct of a veteran Syrian monk, and afterwards two years in a cave as a hermit. The dampness of this abode brought on him a dangerous distemper, and for the recovery of his health he was obliged to return into the city. By this means he was restored to the service of the church in 381, for the benefit of innumerable souls. He was ordained deacon by St. Meletius that very year, and priest by Flavian in 386, who at the same time constituted him his vicar and preacher, our saint being then in the forty-third year of his age.[9] He discharged all the duties of that arduous station during twelve {237} years, being the hand and the eye of his bishop, and his mouth to his flock. The instruction and care of the poor he regarded as his first obligation: this he always made his favorite employment and his delight. He never ceased in his sermons to recommend their cause and the precept of alms deeds to the people. Antioch, he supposed, contained at that time one hundred thousand Christian souls: all these he fed with the word of God, preaching several days in the week, and frequently several times on the same day. He confounded the Jews and Pagans, also the Anomæans, and other heretics. He abolished the most inveterate abuses, repressed vice, and changed the whole face of that great city. It seemed as if nothing could withstand the united power of his eloquence, zeal, and piety.
Theodosius I., finding himself obliged to levy a new tax on his subjects, on occasion of his war with Maximus, who had usurped the Western empire in 387, the populace of Antioch, provoked at the demand, mutinied, and discharged their rage on the emperor's statue, those of his father, his two sons, and his late consort, Flavilla, dragged them with ropes through the streets, and then broke them to pieces. The magistrates durst not oppose the rabble in their excesses. But as soon as their fury was over, and that they began to reflect on what they had been guilty of, and the natural consequences of their extravagances, they were all seized with such terror and consternation, that many abandoned the city, others absconded, and scarce any durst appear publicly in the streets. The magistrates in the mean time were filling the prisons with citizens, in order to their trials, on account of their respective share in the combustion. Their fears were heightened on the arrival of two officers dispatched from Constantinople to execute the emperor's orders with regard to the punishment of the rioters. The reports which were spread abroad on this occasion imported, that the emperor would cause the guilty to be burned alive, would confiscate their estates, and level the city with the ground. The consternation alone was a greater torment than the execution itself could have been. Flavian, notwithstanding his very advanced age, and though his sister was dying when he left her, set out without delay in a very severe season of the year, to implore {238} the emperor's clemency in favor of his flock. Being come to the palace, and admitted into the emperor's presence, he no sooner perceived that prince but he stopped at a distance, holding down his head, covering his face, and speaking only by his tears, as though himself had been guilty. Thus he remained for some time. The emperor seeing him in this condition, carrying, as it were, the weight of the public guilt in his breast, instead of employing harsh reproaches, as Flavian might naturally have expected, summed up the many favors he had conferred on that city, and said at the conclusion of each article: "Is this the acknowledgment I had reason to expect? Is this their return for my love? What cause of complaint had they against me? Had I ever injured them? But granting that I had, what can they allege for extending their insolence even to the dead? Had they received any wrong from them? Why were they to be insulted too? What tenderness have I not shown on all occasions for their city? Is it not notorious that I have given it the preference in my love and esteem to all others, even to that which gave me birth? Did not I always express a longing desire to see it, and that it gave the highest satisfaction to think I should soon be in a condition of taking a journey for this purpose?"
Then the holy bishop, being unable to bear such stinging reproaches or vindicate their conduct, made answer: "We acknowledge, Sir, that you have on all occasions favored us with the greatest demonstrations of your singular affection; and this it is that enhances both our crime and our grief, that we should have carried our ingratitude to such a pitch as to have offended our best friend and greatest benefactor: hence, whatever punishment you may inflict upon us, it will still fall short of what we deserve. But alas! the evil we have done ourselves is worse than innumerable deaths: for what can be more afflicting than to live, in the judgment of all mankind, guilty of the blackest ingratitude, and to see ourselves deprived of your sweet and gracious protection, which was our bulwark. We dare not look any man in the face; no, not the sun itself. But as great as our misery is, it is not irremediable; for it is in your power to remove it. Great affronts among private men have often been the occasion of great charity. When the devil's envy had destroyed man, God's mercy restored him. That wicked spirit, jealous of our city's happiness, has plunged her into this abyss of evils, out of which you alone can rescue her. It is your affection, I dare say it, which has brought them upon us, by exciting the jealousy of the wicked spirits against us. But, like God himself, you may draw infinite good out of the evil which they intended us. If you spare us, you are revenged on them.
"Your clemency on this occasion will be more honorable to you than your most celebrated victories. It will adorn your head with a far brighter diadem than that which you wear, as it will be the fruit only of your own virtue. Your statues have been thrown down: if you pardon this insult, you will raise yourself others, not of marble or brass, which time destroys, but such as will exist eternally in the hearts of all those who will hear of this action. Your predecessor, Constantine the Great, when importuned by his courtiers to exert his vengeance on some seditious people that had disfigured his statues by throwing stones at them, did nothing more than stroke his face with his hand, and told them, smiling, that he did not feel himself hurt. This his saying is yet in the mouths of all men, and a more illustrious trophy to his memory than all the cities which he built, than all the barbarous nations which he subdued. Remember your own memorable saying, when you ordered the prisons to be opened, and the criminals to be pardoned at the feast of Easter: 'Would to God I were able in the same manner to open the graves, and restore the dead to life!' That time is now come. {239} Here is a city whose inhabitants are already dead; and is, as it were, at the gates of its sepulchre. Raise it then, as it is in your power to do, without cost or labor. A word will suffice. Suffer it by your clemency to be still named among the living cities. It will then owe more to you than to its very founder. He built it small, you will raise it great and populous. To have preserved it from being destroyed by barbarians would not have been so great an exploit, as to spare it on such an occasion as now offers.
"Neither is the preservation of an illustrious city the only thing to be considered; your own glory, and, above all, the honor of the Christian religion, are highly interested in this affair. The Jews and Pagans, all barbarous nations, nay, the whole world, have their eyes fixed on you at this critical juncture; all are waiting for the judgment you will pronounce. If it be favorable, they will be filled with admiration, and will agree to praise and worship that God, who checks the anger of those who acknowledge no master upon earth, and who can transform men into angels; they will embrace that religion which teaches such sublime morality. Listen not to those who will object that your clemency on this occasion may be attended with, and give encouragement to the like disorders in other cities. That could only happen, if you spared for want of a power to chastise: but whereas you do not divest yourself, by such an act of clemency, of this power, and as by it you endear and rivet yourself the more in the affections of your subjects, this, instead of encouraging such insults and disorders, will rather the more effectually prevent them. Neither immense sums of money, nor innumerable armies, could ever have gained you so much the hearts of your subjects and their prayers for your person and empire, as will this single action. And if you stand fair for being such a gainer from men, what rewards may you not reasonably expect from God? It is easy for a master to punish, but rare and difficult to pardon.
"It will be extremely glorious to you to have granted this pardon at the request of a minister of the Lord, and it will convince the world of your piety, in that you overlooked the unworthiness of his person, and respected only the power and authority of that Master who sent him. For though deputed immediately by the inhabitants of Antioch to deprecate your just displeasure on this occasion, it is not only in their name that I appear in this place, for I am come from the sovereign Lord of men and angels to declare to you in his name, that, if you pardon men their faults, he will forgive you your sins. Call to mind then that dreadful day on which we shall all be summoned to give in an account of all our actions. Reflect on your having it now in your power, without pain or labor, to efface your sins, and to find mercy at that terrible tribunal. You are about to pronounce your own sentence. Other ambassadors bring gold, silver, and other like presents, but as for me, I offer nothing but the law of God, and entreat you to imitate his example on the cross." He concluded his harangue by assuring the emperor that if he refused to pardon the city, he would never more return to it, nor look upon that city as his country, which a prince of his humane disposition could not prevail upon himself to pardon.
This discourse had its desired effect on the emperor, who with much difficulty suppressed his tears while the bishop spoke, whom he answered in these few words: "If Jesus Christ, the Lord of all things, vouchsafed to pardon and pray for those very men that crucified him, ought I to hesitate to pardon them who have offended me? I, who am but a mortal man like them, and a servant of the same Master." The patriarch, overjoyed at his success, prostrated himself at the emperor's feet, wishing him a reward for such an action suitable to its merit. And whereas the prelate made an offer of passing the feast of Easter with the emperor at Constantinople, he, to {240} testify how sincerely he was reconciled to the city of Antioch, urged his immediate return, saying: "Go, Father, delay not a moment the consolation your people will receive at your return, by communicating to them the assurances of the pardon I grant them; I know they must be in great affliction." The bishop set out accordingly; but, to delay as little as possible the joy of the citizens, he dispatched a courier before him with the emperor's letter of pardon, which produced a comfortable change in the face of affairs. The bishop himself arrived time enough before Easter to keep that solemnity with his people. The joy and triumph of that city could not be greater; it is elegantly described by St. Chrysostom, extolling above all things the humility and modesty of Flavian, who attributed the whole change of Theodosius's mind, and all the glory of the action, to God alone. The discourse which Flavian addressed to the emperor, except the introduction, had been composed by St. Chrysostom, who recited it to the people to comfort them, and ceased not strongly to exhort them to penance, and the fervent exercise of good works, during the whole time of their bishop's absence.[10] After this storm our saint continued his labors with unwearied zeal, and was the honor, the delight, and the darling not of Antioch only but of all the East, and his reputation spread itself over the whole empire.[11] But God was pleased to call him to glorify his name on a new theatre, where he prepared for his virtue other trials, and other crowns.
St. Chrysostom had been five years deacon, and twelve years priest, when Nectarius, bishop of Constantinople, dying in 397, the emperor Arcadius, at the suggestion of Eutropius the eunuch, his chamberlain, resolved to procure the election of our saint to the patriarchate of that city. He therefore dispatched a secret order to the count of the East, enjoining him to send John to Constantinople, but by some stratagem; lest his intended removal, if known at Antioch, should cause a sedition, and be rendered impracticable. The count repaired to Antioch, and desiring the saint to accompany him out of the city to the tombs of the martyrs, on the pretence of devotion, he there delivered him into the hands of an officer sent on purpose, who, taking him into his chariot, conveyed him with all possible speed to the imperial city. Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria, a man of a proud and turbulent spirit, was come thither to recommend a creature of his own to that dignity. He endeavored by illegal practices secretly to traverse the canonical promotion of our saint; but was detected, and threatened to be accused in a synod. Whereupon he was glad to desist from his intrigues, and thus John was consecrated by him on the 26th of February, in 398.[12] In regulating his own conduct and his domestic concerns, he retrenched all the great expenses which his predecessors had entailed on their dignity, which he looked upon as superfluous, and an excessive prodigality, and these sums he applied to the relief of the poor, especially of the sick. For this purpose he erected and maintained several numerous hospitals, under the government of holy and charitable priests, and was very careful that all the servants and attendants were persons of great virtue, tenderness, compassion, and prudence. His own family being settled in good order, the next thing he took in hand after his promotion was the reformation of his clergy. This he forwarded by zealous exhortations and proper rules for their conduct, tending both to their sanctification and exemplarity. And to give these his endeavors their due force, he lived an exact model of what he inculcated to others: but his zeal exasperated the tepid part of that order, and raised a storm against himself. The immodesty {241} of women in their dress in that gay capital excited in him sentiments of the most just abhorrence and indignation. Some young ladies seemed to have forgot that clothing is the covering of the ignominy of sin, and ought to be an instrument of penance, and a motive of confusion and tears, not of vanity. But the exhortations of St. Chrysostom moved many to despise and lay aside the use of purple, silks, and jewels. It was a far more intolerable scandal that some neglected to cover their necks, or used such thin veils as served only to invite the eyes of others more boldly. Our saint represented to such persons that they were in some respects worse than public prostitutes: for these hide their baits at home only for the wicked: "but you," said he, "carry your snare everywhere, and spread your nets publicly in all places. You allege, that you never invited others to sin. You did not by your tongue, but you have done it by your dress and deportment more effectually than you could by your voice: when you have made another to sin in his heart, how can you be innocent? You sharpened and drew the sword: you gave the thrust by which the soul is wounded.[13] Tell me, whom does the world condemn? whom do judges punish? Those who drink the poison, or those who prepare and give the fatal draught? You have mingled the execrable cup; you have administered the potion of death: you are so much more criminal than poisoners, as the death which you cause is the more terrible; for you murder not the body, but the soul. Nor do you do this to enemies; nor compelled by necessity, nor provoked by any injury; but out of a foolish vanity and pride. You sport yourselves in the ruin of the souls of others, and make their spiritual death your pastime." Hence he infers, how false and absurd their excuse is in saying, they mean no harm. These and many other scandals he abolished. He suppressed the wicked custom of swearing, first at Antioch, then at Constantinople. By the invincible power of his eloquence and zeal he tamed the fiercest sinners, and changed them into meek lambs: he converted an incredible number of idolaters and heretics.[14] His mildness towards sinners was censured by the Novatians; he invited them to repentance with the compassion of the most tender father, and was accustomed to cry out: "If you are fallen a second time, or even a thousand times into sin, come to me and you shall be healed."[15] But he was firm and severe in maintaining discipline, though without harshness; to impenitent sinners he was inflexible. To mention one instance of the success of his holy zeal out of the many which his sermons furnish; in the year 399, the second of his episcopacy, on Wednesday in Holy Week, so violent a rain fell as to endanger the corn, and threaten the whole produce of the country. Hereupon public processions were made to the church of the apostles by the bishop and people, to avert the scourge by imploring the intercession chiefly of St. Peter, St. Andrew, (who is regarded as the founder of the church of Byzantium,) St. Paul, and St. Timothy.[16] The rain ceased, but not their fears. Therefore they all crossed the Bosphorus to the church of SS. Peter and Paul, on the opposite side of the water. This danger was scarce over, when on the Friday following many ran to see certain horse-races, and on Holy Saturday to games exhibited at the theatre. The good bishop was pierced to the quick with grief, and on the next day, Easter-Sunday, preached a most zealous and eloquent sermon, Against the Games and Shows of the Theatre and Circus. Indignation made him not so much as mention the paschal solemnity;{242} but by an abrupt exordium he burst into the most vehement pathos, as follows: "Are these things to be borne? Can they be tolerated? I appeal to yourselves, be you your own judges. Thus did God expostulate with the Jews."[17] This exclamation he often repeated to assuage his grief. He put the people in mind of the sanctity of our faith; of the rigorous account we must give to God of all our moments, and the obligation of serving him incumbent on us from his benefits, who has made for us the heaven and earth, the sun, light, rivers, &c. The saint grieved the more, because, after all, they said they had done no harm, though they had murdered not only their own souls, but also those of their children. "And how will you," said he, "after this approach the holy place? How will you touch the heavenly food? Even now do I see you overwhelmed with grief, and covered with confusion. I see some striking their foreheads, perhaps those who have not sinned, but are moved with compassion for their brethren. On this account do I grieve and suffer, that the devil should make such a havoc in such a flock. But if you join with me, we will shut him out. By what means? If we seek out the wounded, and snatch them out of his jaws. Do not tell me their number is but small: though they are but ten, this is a great loss: though but five, but two, or only one. The shepherd leaving ninety-nine, did not return till he had completed his number by recovering that sheep which was lost. Do not say, it is only one; but remember that it is a soul for which all things visible were made; for which laws were given, miracles wrought, and mysteries effected: for which God spared not his only Son. Think how great a price hath been paid for this one sheep, and bring him back to the fold. If he neither hears your persuasions nor my exhortations, I will employ the authority with which God hath invested me." He proceeds to declare such excommunicated. The consternation and penance of the city made the holy pastor forbear any further censure, and to commend their conversion. Palladius writes that he had the satisfaction to see those who had been the most passionately fond of the entertainments of the stage and circus, moved by his sermons on that subject, entirely renounce those schools of the devil. God is more glorified by one perfect soul than by many who serve him with tepidity. Therefore, though every individual of his large flock was an object of his most tender affection and pastoral concern, those were particularly so, who had secluded themselves from the world by embracing a religious state of life, the holy virgins and nuns. Describing their method of life, he says:[18] Their clothing was sackcloth, and their beds only mats spread on the floor; that they watched part of the night in prayer, walked barefoot, never ate before evening, and never touched so much as bread, using no other food than pulse and herbs, and that they were always occupied in prayer, manual labor, or serving the sick of their own sex. The spiritual mother, and the sun of this holy company, St. Nicareta, is honored December the 27th. Among the holy widows who dedicated themselves to God under the direction of this great master of saints, the most illustrious were the truly noble ladies St. Olympias, Salvina, Procula, and Pantadia. This last (who was the widow of Timasus, formerly the first minister to the emperor) was constituted by him deaconess of the church of Constantinople. Widows he considered as by their state called to a life of penance, retirement, and devotion; and he spared no exhortations or endeavors to engage them faithfully to correspond to the divine grace, according to the advice which St. Paul gives them.[19] St. Olympias claimed the privilege of furnishing the expenses of the saint's {243} frugal table. He usually ate alone: few would have been willing to dine so late, or so coarsely and sparingly as he did; and he chose this to save both time and expenses: but he kept another table in a house near his palace, for the entertainment of strangers, which he took care should be decently supplied. He inveighed exceedingly against sumptuous banquets. All his revenues he laid out on the poor; for whose relief he sold the rich furniture which Nectarius had left; and once, in a great dearth, he caused some of the sacred vessels to be melted down for that purpose. This action was condemned by Theophilus, but is justly regarded by St. Austin as a high commendation of our holy prelate. Besides the public hospital near his cathedral, and several others which he founded and maintained, he erected two for strangers. His own patrimony he had given to the poor long before, at Antioch. His extraordinary charities obtained him the name of John of alms-deeds.[20] The spiritual necessities of his neighbor were objects of far greater compassion to his tender charity. His diocese, nay, the whole world, he considered as a great hospital of souls, spiritually blind, deaf, sick, and in danger of perishing eternally; many standing on the brink, many daily falling from the frightful precipice into the unquenchable lake. Not content with tears and supplications to the Father of mercies for their salvation, he was indefatigable in labors and in every endeavor to open their eyes; feared no dangers, no not death itself in its most frightful shapes, to succor them in their spiritual necessities, and prevent their fall. Neither was this pastoral care confined to his own flock or nation: he extended it to the remotest countries. He sent a bishop to instruct the Nomades or wandering Scythians: another, an admirable man, to the Goths. Palestine, Persia, and many other distant provinces felt the most beneficent influence of his zeal. He was himself endued with an eminent spirit of prayer: this he knew to be the great channel of heavenly graces, the cleanser of the affections of the soul from earthly dross, and the means which renders them spiritual and heavenly, and makes men angels, even in their mortal body. He was therefore particularly earnest in inculcating this duty, and in instructing others in the manner of performing it. He warmly exhorted the laity to rise to the midnight office of matins together with the clergy: "Many artisans," said he, "watch to labor, and soldiers watch as sentries; and cannot you do as much to praise God?"[21] He observes, that the silence of the night is peculiarly adapted to devout prayer, and the sighs of compunction: which exercise we ought never to interrupt too long; and by watching, prayer becomes more earnest and powerful. Women he will not have to go easily abroad to church in the night-time; but advises that even children rise in the night to say a short prayer, and as they cannot watch long be put to bed again: for thus they will contract from their infancy a habit of watching, and a Christian's whole house will be converted into a church. The advantages and necessity of assiduous prayer he often recommends with singular energy; but he expresses himself on no subject with greater tenderness and force than on the excess of the divine love, which is displayed in the holy Eucharist, and in exhorting the faithful to the frequent use of that heavenly sacrament. St. Proclus says,[22] that he abridged the liturgy of his church. St. Nilus[23] assures us that he was often favored with visions of angels in the church during the canonical hours, surrounding the altars in troops during the celebration of the divine mysteries, and at the communion of the people. The saint himself confidently avers {244} that this happens at those times,[24] which he confirms by the visions of several hermits.
The public concerns of the state often called on the saint to afford the spiritual succors of his zeal and charity. Eutropius was then at the head of affairs. He was a eunuch, and originally a slave, but had worked himself into favor with the emperor Arcadius. In 395 he was instrumental in cutting off Rufinus, the chief minister, who had broke out into an open rebellion, and he succeeded the traitor in all his honors: golden statues were erected to him in several parts of the city, and what Claudian, Marcellinus in his chronicle, Suidas, and others, represent as the most monstrous event that occurs in the Roman Fasti, was declared consul, though a eunuch. Being placed on so high a pinnacle, a situation but too apt to turn the strongest head, forgetful of himself and the indispensable rules of decency and prudence, it was not long before he surpassed his predecessor in insolence, ambition, and covetousness. Wholesome advice, even from a Chrysostom, served only to exasperate a heart devoted to the world, and open to flatterers, who added continually new flames to its passions. In the mean time, the murmurs and indignation of the whole empire at the pride and avarice of Eutropius were a secret to him, till the pit was prepared for his fall. Gainas, general of the auxiliary Goths in the imperial army, was stirred up to revenge an affront which his cousin Trigibildus, a tribune, had received from the haughty minister. At the same time the empress Eudoxia, having been insulted by him, ran to the emperor, carrying her two little babes in her arms, and cried out for justice against the insolent servant. Arcadius, who was as weak in abandoning, as he was imprudent in choosing favorites, gave orders that the minister should be driven out of the court, and his estates confiscated. Eutropius found himself in a moment forsaken by all the herds of his admirers and flatterers, without one single friend, and fled for protection to the church, and to those very altars whose immunities he had infringed and violated. The whole city was in an uproar against him; the army called aloud for his death, and a troop of soldiers surrounded the church with naked swords in their hands, and fire in their eyes. St. Chrysostom went to the emperor, and easily obtained of him that the unhappy criminal might be allowed to enjoy the benefit of sanctuary; and the soldiers were prevailed upon, by the tears of the emperor and the remonstrances of the bishop, to withdraw. The next day the people flocked to behold a man whose frown two days before made the whole world to tremble, now laying hold of the altar, gnashing his teeth, trembling and shuddering, having nothing before his eyes but drawn swords, dungeons, and executioners. St. Chrysostom on this occasion made a pathetic discourse on the vanity and treachery of human things, the emptiness and falsehood of which he could not find a word emphatical enough to express. The poor Eutropius could not relish such truths a few days ago, but now found his very riches destructive. The saint entreated the people to forgive him whom the emperor, the chief person injured, was desirous to forgive: he asked them how they could beg of God the pardon of their own sins if they did not pardon a man who then, by repentance, was perhaps a saint in the eyes of God. At this discourse not a single person in the church was able to refrain from tears, and all things seemed in a state of tranquillity.[25] Some days after, Eutropius left the church, hoping to escape privately out of the city, but was seized, and banished into Cyprus.[26] He was recalled a few months after, and being impeached {245} of high-treason was condemned and beheaded, chiefly at the instigation of Gainas; in compliance with whose unjust demands the weak emperor consented to the death of Aurelianus and Saturninus, two principal lords of his court. But St. Chrysostom, by several journeys, prevailed with the barbarian to content himself with their banishment, which they underwent, but were soon after recalled. As unjust concessions usually make rebels the more insolent, Gainas hereupon obliged the emperor to declare him commander-in-chief of all his troops. Yet even when his pride and power were at the highest, St. Chrysostom refused him the use of any Catholic church in Constantinople for the Arian worship. And when, some time after, he laid siege to that capital, the saint went out to him, and by kind expostulations prevailed on him to withhold his design and draw off his army. He was afterwards defeated in passing the Hellespont; and fleeing through the country of the Huns, was overthrown, and slain by them in 400.
This same year, 400, St. Chrysostom held a council of bishops in Constantinople; one of whom had preferred a complaint against his metropolitan Antoninus, the archbishop of Ephesus, which consisted of several heads, but that chiefly insisted on was simony.[27] All our saint's endeavors to discuss this affair being frustrated by the distance of places, he found it necessary, at the solicitation of the clergy and people of Ephesus, to go in person to that city, though the severity of the winter season, and the ill state of health he was then in, might be sufficient motives for retarding this journey. In this and the neighboring cities several councils were held, in which the archbishop of Ephesus and several other bishops in Asia, Lycia, and Phrygia, were deposed for simony. Upon his return after Easter, in 401, having been absent a hundred days, he preached the next morning,[28] calling his people, in the transports of tender joy, his crown, his glory, his paradise planted with flourishing trees; but if any bad shrubs should be found in it, he promised that no pains should be spared to change them into good. He bid them consider if they rejoiced so much as they testified, to see him again who was only one, how great his joy must be which was multiplied in every one of them: he calls himself their bond-slave, chained to their service, but says, that slavery was his delight, and that during his absence he ever had them present to his mind, offering up his prayers for their temporal and spiritual welfare.
It remained that our saint should glorify God by his sufferings, as he had already done by his labors: and if we contemplate the mystery of the cross with the eyes of faith, we shall find him greater in the persecutions he sustained than in all the other occurrences of his life. At the same time we cannot sufficiently deplore the blindness of envy and pride in his enemies, as in the Pharisees against Christ himself. We ought to tremble for ourselves: if that passion does not make us persecute a Chrysostom, it may often betray us into rash judgments, aversions, and other sins, even under a cloak of virtue. The first open adversary of our saint was Severianus, bishop of Gabala, in Syria, to whom the saint had left the care of his church during his absence. This mart had acquired the reputation of a preacher, was a favorite of the empress Eudoxia, and had employed all his talents and dexterity to establish himself in the good opinion of the court and people, to the prejudice of the saint, against whom he had preached in his own city. Severianus being obliged to leave Constantinople at the saint's return, he made an excellent discourse to his flock on the peace Christ came to establish on earth, and begged they would receive again Severianus, whom they {246} had expelled the city. Another enemy of the saint was Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria, whom Sozomen, Socrates, Palladius, St. Isidore of Pelusium, and Synesius, accuse of avarice and oppressions to gratify his vanity in building stately churches; of pride, envy, revenge, dissimulation, and an incontrollable love of power and rule, by which he treated other bishops as his slaves, and made his will the rule of justice. His three paschal letters, which have reached us, show that he wrote without method, and that his reflections and reasonings were neither just nor apposite: whence the loss of his other writings is not much to be regretted. These spiritual vices sullied his zeal against the Anthropomorphites, and his other virtues. He died in 412, wishing that he had lived always in a desert, honoring the name of the holy Chrysostom, whose picture he caused to be brought to his bedside, and by reverencing it, showed his desire to make atonement for his past ill conduct towards our saint.[29] This turbulent man had driven from their retreat four abbots of Nitria, called the tall brothers, on a groundless suspicion of Origenism, as appears from Palladius, though it was believed by St. Jerom, which is maintained by Baronius. St. Chrysostom admitted them to communion, but not till they had juridically cleared themselves of it in an ample manner.[30] This however was grievously resented by Theophilus: but the empress Eudoxia, who, after the disgrace of Eutropius, governed her husband and the empire, was the main spring which moved the whole conspiracy against the saint. Zozimus, a heathen historian, says, that her flagrant avarice, her extortions and injustices, knew no bounds, and that the court was filled with informers, calumniators, and harpies, who, being always on the watch for prey, found means to seize the estates of such as died rich, and to disinherit their children or other heirs. No wonder that a saint should displease such a court while he discharged his duty to God. He had preached a sermon against the extravagance and vanity of women in dress and pomp. This was pretended by some to have been levelled at the empress; and Severianus was not wanting to blow the coals. Knowing Theophilus was no friend to the saint, the empress, to be revenged of the supposed affront, sent to desire his presence at Constantinople, in order to depose him. He obeyed the summons with pleasure, and landed at Constantinople in June, 403, with several Egyptian bishops his creatures, refused to see or lodge with John, and got together a packed cabal of thirty-six bishops, the saint's enemies, in a church at Chalcedon, calling themselves the synod at the Oak, from a great tree which gave name to that quarter of the town. The heads of the impeachment drawn up against the holy bishop were: that he had deposed a deacon for beating a servant; that he had called several of his clergy base men; had deposed bishops out of his province; had ordained priests in his domestic chapel, instead of the cathedral; had sold things belonging to the church; that nobody knew what became of his revenues; that he ate alone; and that he gave the holy communion to persons who were not fasting: all which were false or frivolous. The saint held a legal council of forty bishops in the city at the same time; and refused to appear before that at the Oak, alleging most notorious infractions of the canons in their pretended council. The cabal proceeded to a sentence of deposition, which they sent to the city and to the emperor, to whom they also accused him of treason, for having called the empress Jezabel, a false assertion, as Palladius testifies. The emperor hereupon issued out an order for his banishment, but the execution of it was opposed by the people, who assembled about the great church to guard their pastor. {247} He made them a farewell sermon,[31] in which he spoke as follows: "Violent storms encompass me on all sides; yet I am without fear, because I stand upon a rock. Though the sea roar, and the waves rise high, they cannot sink the vessel of Jesus. I fear not death, which is my gain: not banishment, for the whole earth is the Lord's: nor the loss of goods; for I came naked into the world, and must leave it in the same condition. I despise all the terrors of the world and trample upon its smiles and favor. Nor do I desire to live unless for your service. Christ is with me: whom shall I fear? Though waves rise against me: though the sea, though the fury of princes threaten me, all these are to me more contemptible than a spider's web. I always say: O Lord, may thy will be done: not what this or that creature wills, but what it shall please thee to appoint, that shall I do and suffer with joy. This is my strong tower: this is my unshaken rock: this is my staff that can never fail. If God be pleased that it be done, let it be so. Wheresoever his will is that I be, I return him thanks." He declared that he was ready to lay down a thousand lives for them, if at his disposal, and that he suffered only because he had neglected nothing to save their souls. On the third day after the unjust sentence given against him, having received repeated orders from the emperor to go into banishment, and taking all possible care to prevent a sedition, he surrendered himself, unknown to the people, to the count, who conducted him to Prænetum in Bithynia. After his departure his enemies entered the city with guards, and Severianus mounted the pulpit, and began to preach, pretending to show the deposition of the saint to have been legal and just. But the people would not suffer him to proceed, and ran about as if distracted, loudly demanding in a body the restoration of their holy pastor. The next night the city was shook with an earthquake. This brought the empress to reflect with remorse on what she had done against the holy bishop. She applied immediately to the emperor, under the greatest consternation, for his being recalled; crying out: "Unless John be recalled, our empire is undone:" and with his consent she dispatched letters the same night, inviting him home with tender expressions of affection and esteem, and protesting her ignorance of his banishment. Almost all the city went out to meet him, and great numbers of lighted torches were carried before him. He stopped to the suburbs, refusing to enter the city till he had been declared innocent by a more numerous assembly of bishops. But the people would suffer no delay: the enemies of the saint fled, and he resumed his functions, and preached to his flock. He pressed the emperor to call Theophilus to a legal synod: but that obstinate persecutor alleged that he could not return without danger of his life. However, Sozomen relates that threescore bishops ratified his return: but the fair weather did not last long. A silver statue of the empress having been erected on a pillar before the great church of St. Sophia, the dedication of it was celebrated with public games, which, besides disturbing the divine service, engaged the spectators in extravagances and superstition. St. Chrysostom had often preached against licentious shows; and the very place rendered these the more criminal. On this occasion, fearing lest his silence should be construed as an approbation of the thing, he, with his usual freedom and courage, spoke loudly against it. Though this could only affect the Manichæan overseer of those games, the vanity of the empress made her take the affront to herself, and her desires of revenge were implacable.[32] His enemies were invited back: Theophilus {248} durst not come, but sent three deputies. Though St. John had forty-two bishops with him, this second cabal urged to the emperor certain canons of an Arian council of Antioch, made only to exclude St. Athanasius, by which it was ordained that no bishop who had been deposed by a synod, should return to his see till he was restored by another synod. This false plea overruled the justice of the saint's cause, and Arcadius sent him an order to withdraw. He refused to forsake a church committed to him by God, unless forcibly compelled to leave it. The emperor sent troops to drive the people out of the churches on Holy-Saturday, and the holy places were polluted with blood and all manner of outrages. The saint wrote to pope Innocent, begging him to declare void all that had been done; for no injustice could be more notorious.[33] He also wrote to beg the concurrence of certain other holy bishops of the West. The pope having received from Theophilus the acts of the false council at the Oak, even by them saw the glaring injustice of its proceedings, and wrote to him, exhorting him to appear in another council, where sentence should be given according to the canons of Nice, meaning by those words to condemn the Arian canons of Antioch. He also wrote to St. Chrysostom, to his flock, and several of his friends: and endeavored to redress these evils by a new council: as did also the emperor Honorius. But Arcadius and Eudoxia found means to prevent its assembling, the very dread of which made Theophilus, Severianus, and other ringleaders of the faction to tremble.
St. Chrysostom was suffered to remain at Constantinople two months after Easter. On Thursday, in Whitsun-week, the emperor sent him an order for his banishment. The holy man, who received it in the church, said to those about him, "Come, let us pray, and take leave of the angel of the church." He took leave of the bishops, and, stepping into the baptistery, also of St. Olympias and the other deaconesses, who were overwhelmed with grief and bathed in tears. He then retired privately out of the church, to prevent a sedition, and was conducted by Lucius, a brutish captain, into Bithynia, and arrived at Nice on the 20th of June, 404. After his departure, a fire breaking out, burnt down the great church and the senate-house, two buildings which were the glory of the city: but the baptistery was spared by the flames, as it were to justify the saint against his calumniators; for not one of the rich vessels was found wanting. In this senate-house perished the incomparable statues of the muses from Helicon, and other like ornaments, the most valuable then known: so that Zozimus looks upon this conflagration as the greatest misfortune that had ever befallen that city. Palladius ascribes the fire to the anger of heaven. Many of the saint's friends were put to the most exquisite tortures on this account, but no discovery could be made. The Isaurians plundered Asia, and the Huns several other provinces. Eudoxia ended her life and crimes in childbed on the 6th of October following, five days after a furious hail-storm had made a dreadful havoc in the city. The emperor wrote to St. Nilus, to recommend himself and his empire to his prayers. The hermit answered him with a liberty of speech which became one who neither hoped nor feared any thing from the world. "How do you hope," said he, "to see Constantinople delivered from the destroying angel of God, after such enormities authorized by laws? after having banished the most blessed John, the pillar of the church, the lamp of truth, the trumpet of Jesus Christ!"[34] And again: "You have banished John, the greatest light of the earth:--At least, {249} do not persevere in your crime."[35] His brother, the emperor Honorius, wrote still in stronger terms,[36] and several others. But in vain; for certain implacable court ladies and sycophants, hardened against all admonitions and remorse, had much too powerful an ascendant over the unhappy emperor, for these efforts of the saint's friends to meet with success. Arsacius, his enemy and persecutor, though naturally a soft and weak man, was by the emperor's authority intruded into his see. The saint enjoyed himself comfortably at Nice: but Cucusus was pitched upon by Eudoxia for the place of his banishment. He set out from Nice in July, 404, and suffered incredible hardships from heats, fatigues, severity of guards, almost perpetual watchings, and a fever which soon seized him with pains in his breast. He was forced to travel almost all night, deprived of every necessary of life, and was wonderfully refreshed if he got a little clear water to drink, fresh bread to eat, or a bed to take a little rest upon. All he lamented was the impenitence of his enemies, for their own sake: calling impunity in sin, and honor conferred by men on that account, the most dreadful of all judgments.[37] About the end of August, after a seventy days' journey, he arrived at Cucusus, a poor town in Armenia, in the deserts of Mount Taurus. The good bishop of the place vied with his people in showing the man of God the greatest marks of veneration and civility, and many friends met him there, both from Constantinople and Antioch. In this place, by sending missionaries and succors, he promoted the conversion of many heathen countries, especially among the Goths, in Persia and Phoenicia. He appointed Constantius, his friend, a priest of Antioch, superior of the apostolic missions in Phoenicia and Arabia. The letters of Constantius are added to those of St. Chrysostom. The seventeen letters of our saint to St. Olympias might be styled treatises. He tells her,[38] "I daily exult and am transported with joy in my heart under my sufferings, in which I find a hidden treasure: and I beg that you rejoice on the same account, and that you bless and praise God, by whose mercy we obtain to such a degree the grace of suffering." He often enlarges on the great evils and most pernicious consequences of sadness and dejection of spirit, which he calls[39] "the worst of human evils, a perpetual domestic rack, a darkness and tempest of the mind, an interior war, a distemper which consumes the vigor of the soul, and impairs all her faculties." He shows[40] that sickness is the greatest of trials, a time not of inaction, but of the greatest merit, the school of all virtues, and a true martyrdom. He advises her to use physic, and says it would be a criminal impatience to wish for death to be freed from sufferings. He laments the fall of Pelagius, whose heresies he abhorred. He wrote to this lady his excellent treatise, That no one can hurt him who does not hurt himself. Arsacius dying in 405, many ambitiously aspired to that dignity, whose very seeking it was sufficient to prove them unworthy. Atticus, one of this number, a violent enemy to St. Chrysostom, was preferred by the court, and placed in his chair. The pope refused to hold communion with Theophilus or any of the abettors of the persecution of our saint.[41] He and the emperor Honorius sent five bishops to Constantinople to insist on a council, and that, in the mean time, St. Chrysostom should be restored to his see, his deposition having been notoriously unjust.[42] But the deputies were cast into prison in Thrace, because they refused to communicate with Atticus. The persecutors saw that, if the council was held, they would be inevitably condemned and deposed by it, therefore they stuck at nothing to prevent its meeting. The incursions of the Isaurian plunderers obliged St. Chrysostom to take shelter in the castle of Arabissus, on{250} Mount Taurus. He enjoyed a tolerable state of health during the year 406 and the winter following, though it was extremely cold in those mountains, so that the Armenians were surprised to see how his thin, weak body was able to support it. When the Isaurians had quitted the neighborhood, he returned to Cucusus. But his impious enemies, seeing the whole Christian world both honor and defend him, resolved to rid the world of him. With this view they procured an order from the emperor that he should be removed to Arabissus, and thence to Pytius, a town situated on the Euxine sea, near Colchis, at the extremity of the empire, on the frontiers of the Sarmatians, the most barbarous of the Scythians. Two officers were ordered to convey him thither in a limited number of days, through very rough roads, with a promise of promotion, if, by hard usage, he should die in their hands. One of these was not altogether destitute of humanity, but the other could not bear to hear a mild word spoken to him. They often travelled amidst scorching heats, from which his head, that was bald, suffered exceedingly. In the most violent rains they forced him out of doors, obliging him to travel till the water ran in streams down his back and bosom. When they arrived at Comana Pontica, in Cappadocia, he was very sick; yet was hurried five or six miles to the martyrium or chapel in which lay the relics of the martyr St. Basiliscus.[43] The saint was lodged in the oratory of the priest. In the night, that holy martyr appearing to him, said, "Be of good courage, brother John; to-morrow we shall be together." The confessor was filled with joy at this news, and begged that he might stay there till eleven o'clock. This made the guards drag him out the more violently; but when they had travelled four miles, perceiving him in a dying condition, they brought him back to the oratory. He there changed all his clothes to his very shoes, putting on his best attire, which was all white, as if he meant it for his heavenly nuptials. He was yet fasting, and having received the holy sacrament, poured forth his last prayer, which he closed with his usual doxology: Glory be to God for all things. Having said Amen, and signed himself with the sign of the cross, he sweetly gave up his soul to God on the feast of the exaltation of the holy cross, the 14th of September, as appears from the Menæa, in 407, having been bishop nine years and almost seven months.[44]
His remains were interred by the body of St. Basiliscus, a great concourse of holy virgins, monks, and persons of all ranks from a great distance flocking to his funeral. The pope refused all communion with those who would not allow his name a place in the Dyptics or registers of Catholic bishops deceased. It was inserted at Constantinople by Atticus, in 417, and at Alexandria, by St. Cyril, in 419: for Nestorius tells him that he then venerated the ashes of John against his will.[45] His body was translated to Constantinople in 434, by St. Proclus, with the utmost pomp, the emperor Theodosius and his sister Pulcheria accompanying St. Proclus in the procession, and begging pardon for the sins of their parents, who had unadvisedly persecuted this servant of God. The precious remains were laid in the church of the apostles, the burying-place of the emperors and bishops, on the 27th of January, 438; on which day he is honored by the Latins: {251} but the Greeks keep his festival on the 13th of November.[46] His ashes were afterwards carried to Rome, and rest under an altar which bears his name in the Vatican church. The saint was low in stature; and his thin, mortified countenance bespoke the severity of his life. The austerities of his youth, his cold solitary abode in the mountains, and the fatigues of continual preaching, had weakened his breast, which occasioned his frequent distempers. But the hardships of his exile were such as must have destroyed a person of the most robust constitution. Pope Celestine, St. Austin, St. Nilus, St. Isidore of Pelusium, and others, call him the illustrious doctor of churches, whose glory shines on every side, who fills the earth with the light of his profound sacred learning, and who instructs by his works the remotest corners of the world, preaching everywhere, even where his voice could not reach. They style him the wise interpreter of the secrets of God, the sun of the whole universe, the lamp of virtue, and the most shining star of the earth. The incomparable writings of this glorious saint, make his standing and most authentic eulogium.
In the character which St. Chrysostom has in several places drawn of divine and fraternal charity and holy zeal, we have a true portraiture of his holy soul. He excellently shows, from the words of our Lord to St. Peter,[47] that the primary and essential disposition of a pastor of souls is a pure and most ardent love of God, whose love for these souls is so great, that he has delivered his Son to death for them. Jesus Christ shed his blood to save this flock, which he commits to the care of St. Peter. Nothing can be stronger or more tender than the manner in which this saint frequently expresses his charity and solicitude for his spiritual children.[48] When he touches this topic, his words are all fire and flame, and seem to breathe the fervor of St. Peter, the zeal of St. Paul, and the charity of Moses. This favorite of God was not afraid, for the salvation of his people, to desire to be separated from the company of the saints, provided this could have been done without falling from the love of God; though he knew that nothing would more closely unite him forever to God, than this extraordinary effort of his love. The apostle of nations desired to be an anathema for his brethren, and for their salvation;[49] and the prince of the apostles gave the strongest proof of the ardor of his love for Christ, by the floods of tears which he shed for his flock. From the same furnace of divine love, St. Chrysostom drew the like sentiments towards his flock, joined with a sovereign contempt of all earthly things; another distinguishing property of charity, which he describes in the following words:[50] "Those who burn with a spiritual love, consider as nothing all that is shining or precious on earth. We are not to be surprised if we understand not this language, who have no experience of this sublime virtue. For whoever should be inflamed with the fire of the perfect love of Jesus Christ, would be in such dispositions with regard to the earth, that he would be indifferent both to its honors and to its disgrace, and would be no more concerned about its trifles than if he was alone in the world. He would despise sufferings, scourges, and dungeons, as if they were endured in another's body, not in his own; and would be as insensible to the pleasures and enjoyments of the world; as we are to the bodies of the dead, or as the dead are to their own bodies. He would be as pure from the stain of any inordinate passions, as gold perfectly refined is from all rust or spot. And as flies beware of falling into the flames, and keep at a distance, so irregular passions dare not approach him."
Footnotes: 1. S. Chrys. ad Vid. jun. t. 1, p. 340. 2. Sozom. l. 8, c. 22. 3. Liban. ep. ad Joan. apud S. Isidor. Pelus. l. 2, ep. 42. 4. L. 3, de Sacerd. c. 14, p. 390. 5. L. 3, de Sacerd. c. 14. 6. Hom. 72 (ol. 73) and 69 (ol. 69,) in Matt. Hom. 14, in 1 Tim. t. 11, pp. 628, 630, {}3, contra vitup. vita Mon. c. 14. 7. Lib. de Compunct. p. {1}32. 8. Lib. 1, de Compunct. &c. 9. Flavian I. was a native of Antioch, of honorable extraction, and possessed of a plentiful estate, which he employed in the service of the church and relief of the poor. He was remarkably grave and serious, and began early to subdue his flesh by austerities and abstinence, in which he remitted nothing even in his old age. Thus was his heart prepared to receive and cherish the seeds of divine grace, the daily increase of which rendered him so conspicuous in the world, and of such advantage to the church. The Arians being at that time masters of the church of Antioch, Flavian and his associate Diodorus, afterwards bishop of Tarsus, equally distinguished by their birth, fortune, learning, and virtue, were the great supports of the flock St. Eustathius had been forced to abandon. In 348, they undertook the defence of the Catholic faith against Leontius, the Arian bishop, who made use of all his craft and authority to establish Arianism to that city; one of whose chief expedients was to promote none to holy orders but Arians. The scarcity of Catholic pastors, on this account called for all their zeal and charity in behalf of the abandoned flock. The Arians being in possession of the churches to the city, these two zealous laymen assembled them without the walls, at the tombs of the martyrs, for the exercise of religious duties. They introduced among them the manner of singing psalms alternately, and of concluding each psalm with Glory be to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; as it was, &c., which pious custom was soon after spread over all the eastern and western churches. Theodoret (l. 2, c. 19) says, that Flavian and Diodorus were the first who directed the psalms to be sung in this manner by two choirs: though Socrates (l. 6, c. 8) attributes its institution to St. Ignatius the martyr: who having, as he there relates, heard angels in a vision singing the divine praises alternately, instituted that manner of singing in the church of Antioch; but this might have been disused. Pliny's famous letter to Trajan shows, that singing was then in use among the Christians In Bithynia; and it appears from Philo, that the Therapeuts did the same before that time. Leontius stood so much in awe of Flavian and Diodorus while they were only laymen, that in compliance with their demands he deposed Aëtius that most impious and barefaced blasphemer of all the Arians, from the rank of deacon.
St. Meletius, on his being promoted to the see of Antioch, about the year 361, raised these both to the priesthood, and they took care of that church, as his delegates, during his banishment by Constantius. Thus they continued together their zealous labors till Diodorus was made bishop of Tarsus. In 381, St. Meletius took Flavian with him to the general council which was assembled at Constantinople; but dying in that capital, Flavian was chosen to succeed him. His life was a perfect copy of the eminent episcopal virtues, and especially of the meekness, the candor, and affability of his worthy predecessor.
Unhappily the schism, which for a long time had divided the church of Antioch, was not yet extinguished. The occasion was this: after the death of St. Eustathius, they could not agree in the choice of his successor; those who were most attached to this holy prelate, with St. Athanasius and the West, followed Paulinus: the Apollinarists declared for Vitalis: and the greatest body of the orthodox of Antioch, with Flavian, Diodorus, and all the East, adhered to St. Meletius, who, as we have seen already, was succeeded by Flavian. Paulinus, bishop of that part of the Catholics called Eustathians, from their attachment to that prelate, though long since dead, still disputed that see with Flavian; but dying in 383, the schism of Antioch must have ended, had not his abettors kept open the breach by choosing Evagrius in his room; though it does not appear that he had one bishop in communion with him, Egypt and the West being now neuter, and the East all holding communion with Flavian. Evagrius dying in 395, the Eustathians, though now without a pastor, still continued their separate meetings, and kept up the schism several years longer. St. Chrysostom being raised to the see of Constantinople, in 398, labored hourly to abolish this fatal schism, which was brought about soon after by commissioners constituted for this purpose by the West, Egypt, and all the other parties concerned, and the Eustathians received Flavian as their bishop. In the year 404, when St. Chrysostom was banished, Flavian testified his indignation against so unjust a proceeding, and wrote upon that subject to the clergy of Constantinople. But he did not live to be witness of all the sufferings his dear friend was to meet with, dying about three years before him, in 404. The general council of Chalcedon calls him blessed, (Conc. t. 4, p. 840,) and Theodoret (l. 5, c. 232) gives him the titles of the great, the admirable saint. St. Chrysostom is lavish in his praises of him. Flavian's sermons and other writings are all lost except his discourse to Theodosius, preserved by St. Chrysostom. No church or Martyrology, whether among the Greeks or Latins, ever placed Falvius I. of Antioch in the catalogue of the saints. Whence Chatelain, in his notes, speaking of St. Meletius, February the 12th, p. 630; and on St. Flavian of Constantinople, February the 17th, p. 685, expresses his surprise at the boldness of Baillet and some others, who, without regard to the decrees of Urban VIII., presumed to do it of their own private authority, and without any reason, have assigned for his feast the 21st of February. Chatelain, in his additions to his Universal Martyrology, p. 711, names him with the epithet of venerable only, on the 26th of September. He is only spoken of here, to answer our design of giving in the notes some account of the most eminent fathers of the church who have never been ranked among the saints. On St. Flavian II. of Antioch, banished by the emperor Anastasius with St. Elias of Jerusalem, for their zeal in defending the council of Chalcedon against the Eutychians, see July {} 4th, on which these two confessors are commemorated in the Roman Martyrology. 10. St. Chrys. Hom. 21, ad Pap. Antioch. seu de Statius. t. 2. 11. Sozom. l. 8, c. 2, &c. 12. Socrat. c. 2. See Stilting, §35, p. 511. 13. St. Chrys. l. Quod regulares foeminæ, t. 1, p. 250. 14. Stilting, §41, p. 526. 15. Phot. Cod. 59. Socr. l. 6, c. 21. Stilting, §40, p. 523. 16. [Greek: Kai sunêgores elambanomen]. Chrys. Serm. contra ludos et spect. t. 6, p. 272. Ed. Ben. [Greek: Andreas Paulon kai Timotheon]. 17. Mich. vi. 3. Jer. ii. 5. 18. Hom. 13, in Ephes. t. 11, p. 95 19. Pallad in Vit. Chrysost. Item S. Chrysost. Hom. in 1 Tim. v. 5, l. 3, de Sacerd. c. 8, and l. ad V{}oior. Stilting, §67, p. 603. 20. [Greek: Iôannês hu tês eleêmosunês]. Pallad. c. 12. 21. Hom. 2, & 25, in Acta. Hom. 14, in Hebr. Pallad. in Vit. S. Chrys. 22. S. Procl. Or. 22. p. 581. 23. L. 2, Ep. 294, p. 266. 24. L. 3, de Sacerd. 25. Stilting, §43, p. 530, et seq. 26. About this time the poet Claudian wrote his two books against Eutropius, as he had done before against Rufinus. 27. Pallad. Dial. {} 127. Stilting, §47, p. 542. 28. T. 3, p. 411. 29. S. Joan. Damasc. Orat. 3, de Imaginibus, p. 480, {} Billii. See F. Sollier in Hist. Chronol. Patriarch Alexand. in Theophilo, p. 52. 30. See Stilting, §54, 55, 5{}, p. 567. 31. T. 3, p. 415. 32. Socrates and Sozomen say that he preached another sermon against the empress, beginning with these words: Herodias is again became furious. But Montfaucon refutes this slander, trumped up by his enemies. The sermon extant under that title is a manifest forgery, t. {}n spuriis, p. 1. See Montfaucon, and Stilting, §63, p. 503. 33. {}p t. 3, p. 515. Pallad. Dial. Stilting, §58, p. 578. 34. S. Nilus, l. 2, ep. 265. 35. L. 3, ep. 279. 36. T. 3, p. 525. 37. Ep. 8. 38. Ep. 8, p. 589. 39. Ibid. 3, p. 552. 40. Ibid. 4, p. 570. 41. Pallad. Theodoret, l. 5, c. 34. 42. Pallad. Sozom. l. 8. c. 28. 43. The passage of Palladius, in which St. Basiliscus is called bishop of Comana, is evidently falsified by the mistake of copiers, as Stilting demonstrates; who shows this Basiliscus to have suffered not at Nicomedia, but near Comana, in the country where his relics remained; the same that is honored on the 2d of March. It is without grounds that Tillemont, Le Quien, &c., imagine there were two martyrs of the same name, the one a soldier, who suffered at Comana under Galerius Maximian; the other, bishop of that city. T. 5, in S. Basilisc. note 4. See Stilting, §83, p. 665. 44. Sir Harry Saville is of opinion that he was only fifty-two years old: but he must have been sixty-three, as born in 344. 45. Nestorius, Or. 12, apud Marium Mercat. par. 2, p. 86, ed. Gamier. Stilting, §88, p. 685. 46. Jos. Assemani. Comm. In Calend. Univ. t. 6. p. 105, and Stilting. 47. Joan. xxi. 17. St. Chrys. l. 2, de Sacred. c. 1. 48. Hom. 3 & 44, in Act. et alibi sæpe. 49. See St. Chrys. hom. 16, in Rom. 50. Hom. 52, in Acta.
{252}
ON THE WRITINGS
OF
ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.
IN the Benedictine edition of his works given by Dom Montfaucon, we have in the first tome his two Exhortations to Theodorus; three books against the Adversaries of a Monastic Life; the Comparison between a King and a Monk; two books on Compunction; three books to Stagirius the monk, on Tribulation and Providence; against those Clergymen who harbor Women under their roof to serve them; another treatise to prove that Deaconesses, or other Regular Women, ought not to live under the same roof with men; On Virginity; To a Young Widow; On the Priesthood; and a considerable number of scattered homilies. Theodorus, after renouncing the advantages which high birth, a plentiful estate, a polite education, and an uncommon stock of learning offered him in the world, and having solemnly consecrated himself to God in a monastic state, violated his sacred engagement, returned into the world, took upon him the administration of his estate, fell in love with a beautiful young woman named Hermione, and desired to marry her. St. Chrysostom, who had formerly been his school-fellow, under Libanius, and been afterwards instrumental in inducing him to forsake the world, and some time his companion in a religious state, grievously lamented his unhappy fall; and by two most tender and pathetic exhortations to repentance, gained him again to God. Every word is dictated by the most ardent zeal and charity, and powerfully insinuates itself into the heart by the charm of an unparalleled sweetness, which gives to the strength of the most persuasive eloquence an irresistible force. Nothing of the kind extant is more beautiful, or more tender, than these two pieces, especially the former. The saint, in the beginning, borrows the most moving parts of the lamentations of Jeremy, showing that he had far more reason to abandon himself to bitter grief than that prophet; for he mourned not for a material temple and city with the holy ark and the tables of the law, but for an immortal soul, far more precious than the whole material world. And if one soul which observes the divine law is greater and better than ten thousand which transgress it, what reason had he to deplore the loss of one which had been sanctified, and the holy living temple of God, and shone with the grace of the Holy Ghost: one in which the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost had dwelt; but was stripped of its glory and fence, robbed of its beauty, enslaved by the devil, and fettered with his bolts and chains. Therefore the saint invites all creatures to mourn with him, and declares he will receive no comfort, nor listen to those who offer him any, crying out with the prophet: Depart from me: I will weep bitterly: offer not to comfort me. Isa. xxii. 4. His grief, he says, was just, because he wept for a soul that was fallen from heaven to hell, from grace into sin: it was reasonable, because by tears she might yet be recovered; and he protests that he would never interrupt them, till he should learn that she was risen again. To fortify his unhappy friend against the temptation of despair, he shows by the promises, examples, and parables of the Old and New Testaments, that no one can doubt of the power or goodness of God, who is most ready to pardon every sinner that sues for mercy. Observing that hell was not created for man, but heaven, he conjures him not to defeat the design of God in his creation, and destroy the work of his mercy by persevering in sin. The difficulties which seemed to stand in his way, and dispirited him, the saint shows would be all removed, and would even vanish of themselves, if he undertook the work with courage and resolution: this makes the conversion of a soul easy. He terrifies him by moving reflections on death, and the divine judgments, by a dreadful portraiture which he draws of the fire of hell, which resembles not our fire, but burns souls, and is eternal; lastly, by the loss of heaven, on the joys of which kingdom he speaks at large; on its immortality, the company of the angels, the joy, liberty, beauty, and glory of the blessed, adding, that such is this felicity, that in its loss consists the most dreadful of all the torments of the damned. Penance averts these evils, and restores to a soul all the titles and advantages which she had forfeited by her fall: and its main difficulty and labor are vanquished by a firm resolution, and serious beginning of the work. This weakens and throws down the enemy: if he be thoroughly vanquished in that part where he was the strongest, the soul will pursue, with ease and cheerfulness, the delightful and beautiful course of virtue upon which she has entered. He conjures Theodorus, by all that is dear, to have compassion on himself; also to have pity on his mourning friends, and not by grief send them to their graves: he exhorts him resolutely to break his bonds at once, not to temporize only with his enemy, or pretend to rise by degrees; and he entreats him to exert his whole strength in laboring to {253} be of the happy number of those who, from being the last, are raised by their fervor to the first rank in the kingdom of God. To encourage him by examples, he mentions a young nobleman of Phoenicia, the son of one Urbanus, who, having embraced with fervor the monastic state, insensibly fell into lukewarmness, and at length returned into the world, where he enjoyed large possessions, lived in pomp, and abandoned himself to the pursuit of vanity and pleasures; till, opening his eyes upon the remonstrances of certain pious friends, he distributed his whole estate among the poor, and spent the rest of his life in the desert with extraordinary fervor. Another ascetic, falling by degrees, in an advanced age, committed the crime of fornication; but immediately rising, attained to an eminent degree of sanctity, and was honored with the gift of miracles. The disciple of St. John, who had been a captain of a troop of robbers and murderers, became an illustrious penitent. In like manner, our saint exhorts and conjures this sinner to rise without delay, before he was overtaken by the divine judgments, and to confess his sins with compunction of heart, abundant bitter tears, and a perfect change of life, laboring to efface his crimes by good works, to the least of which Christ has promised a reward.
St. Chrysostom begins his second Exhortation to Theodorus, which is much shorter than the first, by expressing his grief as follows: (t. 1, p. 35:) "If tears and groans could have been conveyed by letters, this would have been filled. I grieve not that you have taken upon you the administration of your affairs; but that you have trampled under your feet the sacred engagement you had made of yourself to Christ. For this I suffer excessive trouble and pain; for this I mourn; for this I am seized with fear and trembling, having before my eyes the severe damnation which so treacherous and base a perfidiousness deserves." He tells him yet "that the case is not desperate for a person to have been wounded, but for him to neglect the cure of his wounds. A merchant after shipwreck labors to repair his losses; many wrestlers, after a fall, have risen and fought so courageously as to have been crowned; and soldiers, after a defeat, have rallied and conquered. You allege," says he, "that marriage is lawful. This I readily acknowledge; but it is not now in your power to embrace that state: for it is certain that one who, by a solemn engagement, has given himself to God as his heavenly spouse, if he violates this contract, he commits an adultery, though he should a thousand times call it marriage. Nay, he is guilty of a crime so much the more enormous as the majesty of God surpasses man. Had you been free, no one would charge you with desertion; but since you are contracted to so great a king, you are not at your own disposal." St. Chrysostom pathetically shows him the danger, baseness, and crime of deferring his repentance, sets before him hell, the emptiness of the world, the uneasiness and troubles which usually attend a married life, and the sweetness of the yoke of Christ. He closes this pressing exhortation by mentioning the tears and prayers of his friends, which they would never interrupt, till they had the comfort of seeing him raised from his fall. St. Chrysostom wrote these two exhortations about the year 369, which was the second that he spent in his mother's house at Antioch when he led there an ascetic life. The fruit of his zeal and charity was the conversion of Theodorus, who broke his engagements with the world, and returned to his solitude. In 381 he was made bishop of Mopsuestia. In opposing the Apollinarist heresy, he had the misfortune to lay the seeds of Nestorianism in a book which he composed on the Incarnation, and other writings. He became a declared protector of Julian the Pelagian, when he took refuge in the East; wrote an express treatise against original sin; and maintained the Pelagian errors in a multitude of other works, which were all condemned after his death, though only fragments of them have reached us, preserved chiefly in Facundus, Photius, and several councils. He died in 428, before the solemn condemnation of his errors, and in the communion of the Catholic church. See Tillemont, t. 12.
During St. Chrysostom's retreat in the mountains, two devout servants of God desired of him certain instructions on the means of attaining to the virtue of compunction. Demetrius, the first of these, though he was arrived at a high degree of perfection in an ascetic life, always ranked himself among those who crawl on the earth, and said often to St. Chrysostom, kissing his hand, and watering it with tears, "Assist me to soften the hardness of my heart." St. Chrysostom addressed to him his first book on Compunction, in which he tells him that he was not unacquainted with this grace, of which he had a pledge in the earnestness of his desire to obtain it, his love of retirement, his watching whole nights, and his abundant tears, even those with which, squeezing him by the hand, he lead begged the succor of his advice and prayers, in order to soften his dry, stony heart into compunction. With the utmost confusion for his own want of this virtue, he yielded to his request, begging in return his earnest prayers for the conversion of his own soul. Treating first on the necessities and motives of compunction, he takes notice that Christ pronounces those blessed who mourn, and says we ought never to cease weeping for our own sins, and those of the whole world, which deserves and calls for our tears so much the more loudly, as it is insensible of its own miseries. We should never cease weeping, if we considered how much sin reigns among men. The saint considers the sin of rash judgment as a general vice among men, from which he thinks scarce any one will be found to have lived always free. He {254} says the same of anger; then of detraction; and considering how universally these crimes prevail among men, cries out: "What hopes of salvation remain for the generality of mankind, who commit, without reflection, some or other of these crimes, one of which is enough to damn a soul?" He mentions also, as general sins, swearing, evil words, vain-glory, not giving alms, want of confidence in divine providence, and of resignation to his will, covetousness, and sloth in the practice of virtue. He complains that whereas the narrow path only leads to heaven, almost all men throw themselves into the broad way, walking with the multitude in their employs and actions, seeking their pleasure, interest, or convenience, not what is safest for their souls. Here what motives for our tears! A life of mortification and penance he prescribes, as an essential condition for maintaining a spirit of compunction; saying that water and fire are not more contrary to each other, than a life of softness and delights is to compunction; pleasure being the mother of dissolute laughter and madness. A love of pleasure renders the soul heavy and altogether earthly; but compunction gives her wings, by which she raises herself above all created things. We see worldly men mourn for the loss of friends and other temporal calamities. And are not we excited to weep for our spiritual miseries? We can never cease if we have always before our eyes our sins, our distance from heaven, the pains of hell, God's judgments, and our danger of losing Him, which is the most dreadful of all the torments of the damned.
In his second book On Compunction, which is addressed to Stelechius, he expresses his surprise that he should desire instructions on compunction of one so cold in the divine service as he was; but only one whose breast is inflamed with divine love, and whose words are more penetrating than fire, can speak of that virtue. He says that compunction requires in the first place, solitude, not so much that of the desert, as that which is interior, or of the mind. For seeing that a multitude of objects disturbs the sight, the soul must restrain all the senses, remain serene, and without tumult or noise within herself, always intent on God, employed in his love, deaf to corporeal objects. As men placed on a high mountain hear nothing of the noise of a city situated below them, only a confused stir which they no way heed; so a Christian soul, raised on the mountain of true wisdom, regards not the hurry of the world; and though she is not destitute of senses, is not molested by them, and applies herself and her whole attention to heavenly things. Thus St. Paul was crucified and insensible to the world, raised as far above its objects as living men differ from carcasses. Not only St. Paul, amid a multiplicity of affairs, but also David, living in the noise of a great city and court, enjoyed solitude of mind, and the grace of perfect compunction, and poured forth tears night and day, proceeding from an ardent love and desire of God and his heavenly kingdom, the consideration of the divine judgments, and the remembrance of his own sins. Persons that are lukewarm and slothful, think of what they do or have done in penance to cancel their debts; but David nourished perpetually in his breast a spirit of compunction, by never thinking on the penance he had already done, but only on his debts and miseries, and on what he had to do in order to blot out or deliver himself from them. St. Chrysostom begs his friend's prayers that he might be stirred up by the divine grace to weep perpetually under the load of his spiritual evils, so as to escape everlasting torments.
The saint's three books, On Providence, are an exhortation to comfort, patience, and resignation, addressed to Stagirius, a monk possessed by an evil spirit. This Stagirius was a young nobleman, who had exasperated his father by embracing a monastic state: but some time after fell into lukewarmness, and was cruelly possessed by an evil spirit, and seized with a dreadful melancholy, from which those who had received a power of commanding evil spirits were not able to deliver him. St. Chrysostom wrote these books soon after he was ordained deacon in 380. In the first, he shows that all things are governed by divine providence, by which even afflictions are always sent and directed for the good of the elect. For any one to doubt of this is to turn infidel: and if we believe it, what can we fear whatever tribulations befall us, and to whatever height their waves ascend? Though the conduct of divine providence, with regard to the just, be not uniform, it sends to none any tribulations which are not for their good; when they are most heavy, they are designed by God to prepare men for the greatest crowns. Moreover, God is absolute master to dispose of us, as a potter of his clay. What then have we to say? or how dare we presume to penetrate into his holy counsels? The promise of God can never fail: this gives us an absolute security of the highest advantages, mercy, and eternal glory, which are designed us in our afflictions. St. Chrysostom represents to Stagirius that his trials had cured his former vanity, anger, and sloth, and it was owing to them that he now spent nights and days in fasting, prayer, and reading. In the second book, he presses Stagirius strenuously to reject all melancholy and gloomy thoughts, and not to be uneasy either about his cure, or the grief his situation was likely to give his father, but leaving the issue to God, with perfect resignation to ask of him this mercy, resting in the entire confidence that whatever God ordained would turn to his greatest advantage. In the third book, he mentions to Stagirius several of his acquaintance, whose sufferings, both in mind and body, were more grievous than those with which he was afflicted. He bids him also pay a visit to the hospitals and prisons; for he would there see that his cross was light in comparison of what many others endured. {255} He tells him that sin ought to be to him the only subject of grief; and that he ought to rejoice in sufferings as the means by which his sins were to be expiated. A firm confidence in God, a constant attention to his presence, and perpetual prayer, he calls the strong ramparts against sadness.
When the Arian emperor Valens, in 375, commanded the monks to be turned out of their deserts, and enrolled in the troops, and several Catholics reviled them as bigots and madmen, St. Chrysostom took up his pen to justify them, by three books, entitled, Against the Impugners of a Monastic State. T. 1, p. 44, he expresses his surprise that any Christians could speak ill of a state which consists in the most perfect means of attaining to true virtue, and says they hurt themselves, not the monks, whose merit they increase; as Nero's persecution of St. Paul, because he had converted one of the tyrant's concubines, enhanced the apostle's glory. A more dreadful judgment is reserved to these enemies of the love of Christ. They said, they drew no one from his faith. The saint retorts: What will faith avail without innocence and virtue? They alleged that a Christian may be saved without retiring into the desert. He answers: Would to God men lived so in the world that monasteries were of no advantage! but seeing all disorders prevail in it, who can blame those who seek to shelter themselves from the storm? He elegantly shows that the number of those that are saved in the world is exceeding small, and that the gate of life is narrow. The multitude perished in Noah's flood, and only eight escaped in the ark. How foolish would it have been to rely carelessly on safety in such danger! Yet here the case is far more dreadful, everlasting fire being the portion of those that are lost. Yet in the world how few resist the torrent, and are not carried down with the crowd, sliding into anger, detraction, rash judgment, covetousness, or some other sin. Almost all, as if it were by common conspiracy, throw themselves into the gulf, where the multitude of companions will be no comfort. Is it not, then, a part of wisdom to fly from these dangers, in order to secure our only affair in the best manner possible?
Whereas parents sometimes opposed the vocation of their children to a monastic state, in his second book he addresses himself to a Pagan father, who grieved to see his son and heir engaged in that profession. He tells him he has the greatest reason to rejoice; proving from Socrates, and other heathen philosophers, that his son is more happy in voluntary poverty and contempt of the world, than he could have been in the possession of empires: that he is richer than his father, whom the loss of one bag of his treasures would afflict, whereas the monk, who possessed only a single cloak, could see without concern even that stolen, and would even rejoice though condemned to banishment or death. He is greater than emperors, more happy than the world, out of the reach of its malice or evil, whom no one could hurt if he desired it. A father who loves his son ought more to rejoice at his so great happiness than if he had seen him a thousand times king of the whole earth, and his life and kingdom secured to him for ten thousand years. What treasures would not have been well employed to purchase for him such a soul as his was rendered by virtue, could this blessing have been procured for money? He displays the falsehood of worldly pleasure; the inconstancy, anxiety, trouble, grief, and bitterness of all its enjoyments, and says that no king can give so sensible a joy as the very sight of a virtuous man inspires. As he speaks to a Pagan, he makes a comparison between Plato and Dionysius the tyrant; then mentions an acquaintance of his own. This was a holy monk, whom his Pagan father, who was a rich nobleman, incensed at his choice of that state, disinherited; but was at length so overcome by the virtue of this son, that he preferred him to all his other children, who were accomplished noblemen in the world, often saying that none of them was worthy to be his slave; and he honored and respected him as if he had been his own father. In the third book, St. Chrysostom directs his discourse to a Christian father, whom he threatens with the judgment of Hell, if he withdrew his children from this state of perfection, in which they would have become suns in heaven, whereas, if they were saved in the world, their glory would probably be only that of stars. He inveighs against parents, who, by their discourse and example, instil into their children a spirit of vanity, and sow in their tender minds the seeds of covetousness, and all those sins which overrun the world. He compares monks to angels, in their uninterrupted joy and attention to God; and observes that men in the world are bound to observe the same divine law with the monks, but cannot so easily acquit themselves of this obligation, as he that is hampered with cords cannot run so well as he that is loose and at liberty. He exhorts parents to breed up their children for some years in monasteries, and to omit nothing in forming them to perfect virtue. In his elegant short treatise, entitled A Comparison between a King and a Monk, t. 1, p. 116, he beautifully shows that a pious monk is incomparably more honorable, more glorious, and more happy than the greatest monarch, by enjoying the favor of heaven, and possessing God; by the empire over himself and his own passions, by which he is king in his own breast, exercising the most glorious command; by the sweetness and riches of divine grace; by the kingdom of God established in his soul; by prayer, by which all things are in his power; by his universal benevolence and beneficence to others, procuring to every one all spiritual advantages as far as lies in him; by the comfort which he finds in death which is terrible {256} to kings, but by which he is translated to an immortal crown, &c. This book is much esteemed by Montfaucon and the devout Blosius.
St. Chrysostom, in his treatise on Virginity, t. 1, p. 268, says this virtue is a privilege peculiar to the true church, not to be found, at least pure, among heretics: he proves against the Manichees, that marriage is good: yet says that virginity as far excels it as angels men, but that all its excellency is derived from the consecration of a soul to God, and her attention to please him, without which this state avails nothing.
After he was ordained deacon at Antioch, he composed his book To a Young Widow, (t. 1, p. 337,) a lady who had lost her husband Tarasius, candidate for the prefectship of the city. He draws motives to comfort her from the spiritual advantages of holy widowhood, and the happiness to which her husband was called. His second book To the Widow, (t. 1, p. 349,) is a dissuasive from second marriages, when they are contracted upon worldly motives.
His six incomparable books on the Priesthood, he composed to excuse himself to his friend Basil, who complained that he had been betrayed by him into the episcopal charge; for Chrysostom persuaded him they had time yet to conceal themselves; yet secretly absconded himself and left the other to be chosen. Basil, when he met him afterwards, was not able to speak for some time but by a flood of tears; and at length broke through them only to give vent to his grief in bitter complaints against the treachery of his friend. This work is wrote in a dialogue between the two friends. St. Chrysostom, in the first book, alleges (t. 1, p. 362) that he could not deprive the church of a pastor so well qualified to serve it as Basil was; nor undertake himself a charge for which he had not the essential talents, and in which he should involve others and himself in ruin. In the second book he justifies his own action in not hindering the promotion of his friend to the episcopacy, by observing that to undertake the charge of souls is the greatest proof we can give of our love for Christ, which He declared by putting the question thrice to St. Peter whether he loved him, before he committed to him the care of his flock. John xxi. 15. If we think it an argument of our love for a friend to take care of his servants or cattle, much more will God recompense faithful pastors, who feed those dear souls to save which God died. The pastoral charge is certainly the first of all others in merit and dignity. The saint therefore thinks he should have prevaricated if he had deprived the church of a minister capable of serving it. But in order to justify his own flight, he adds that the dangers and difficulties of this state are proportioned to its pre-eminence and advantages. For what can be more difficult and dangerous than the charge of immortal souls, and of applying to them remedies, which, to take effect, depend upon their own co-operation and consent, and must be always proportioned to their dispositions and character, which must be sounded, as well as to their wounds? Remissness leaves a wound half cured: and a suitable penance often exasperates and makes it wider. Herein the greatest sagacity and prudence are necessary: Nor is the difficulty less in bringing back to the church members which are separated from it. Basil replied to this discourse of St. Chrysostom: "You then love not Christ, who fly from the charge of souls." St. Chrysostom answered, that he loved him, and fled from this charge because he loved him, fearing to offend him by taking upon him such an office, for which he was every way unqualified. Basil retorts with warmth, that his treachery towards himself was unpardonable, because he was acquainted with his friend's incapacity. Chrysostom answers, that he should never have betrayed him into that dignity, if he had not known his charity and other qualifications. In order to show that he had reason to shun that charge, he in his third book sets forth the excellence and obligations of that dignity; for it is not earthly, but altogether heavenly, and its ministry would do honor to the angels; and a pastor ought to look upon himself as placed among the heavenly spirits, and under an obligation of being no less pure and holy. This he shows, first, from the tremendous sacrifice of the altar, which requires in the offerer a purity truly becoming heaven, and even far surpassing the sanctity which was required in so terrible a manner of priests in the Old Law, a mere shadow of ours. "For," says he, "when you behold the Lord himself lying the victim on the altar, and offered, and the priest attending, and praying over the sacrifice, purpled with his precious blood, do you seem to remain among men and on earth, or not rather to be translated into heaven? O wonderful prodigy! O excess of the divine mercy! He who is seated above at the right hand of the Father, is in that hour held by all in their hands, and gives himself to be touched and received. Figure to yourself Elias before the altar, praying alone, the multitude standing around him in silence, and trembling, and the fire falling from heaven and consuming the sacrifice. What is now done is far more extraordinary, more awful, and more astonishing. The priest is here standing, and calls down from heaven, not fire, but the Holy Ghost: he prays a long time, not that a flame may be kindled, but that grace may touch the sacrifice, and that the hearts of all who partake of it may be purged by the same." c. 5, p. 385. (See the learned prelate Giacomelli's Note on St. Chrysostom's doctrine on the real presence of the body of Christ in the Eucharist, and on the sacrifice of the altar, in hunc librum, c. 4, p. 340.) Secondly, he mentions the eminent prerogative of binding and loosing, not bodies, but souls, with which the priesthood of the New Law is {257} honored: a power reaching the heavens, where God confirms the sentence pronounced by priests below: a power never given to angels, yet granted to men. John xx. 22. All power was given by the Father to the Son, who again transferred it on men. It is esteemed a great authority if an emperor confers on a private person power to imprison others or to set them at liberty. How great then is the authority with which God honors the priesthood. The priests of the Old Law declared lepers healed; those of the New really cleanse and heal our souls. They are our spiritual parents, by whom we are reborn to eternal life; they regenerate us by baptism, again remit our sins by extreme unction, (James v. 14,) and by their prayers appease God whom we have offended. From all which he infers that it is arrogance and presumption to seek such a dignity, which made St. Paul himself tremble (1 Cor. xi. 3, &c.) If the people in a mad phrensy should make an ignorant cobble general of their army, every one would commend such a wretch if he fled and hid himself that he might not be instrumental in his own and his country's ruin. "If any one," says he, "should appoint me pilot, and order me to steer a large vessel in the dangerous Egæn or Tyrrhenian sea, I should be alarmed and struck with fear, and rather fly than drown both myself and crew." The saint proceeds to mention the principal temptations to which a pastor of souls is himself exposed, and the storms by which he is assailed; as vain-glory, for instance, a more dreadful monster than the sirens of the poets, which passengers, by standing on their guard, could sail by and escape. "This rock," says he, "is so troublesome to me even now, when no necessity drives me upon it, that I do not quite escape being hurt by it. But if any one had placed me on so high a pinnacle, it would have been as if, having tied my hands behind my back, he had exposed me to wild beasts to be torn in pieces." He adds the danger of human respect, fear of the great ones, contempt or neglect of the poor; observing that none can encounter such dangers, but such as are perfect in virtue, disinterested, watchful over themselves, inured to mortification by great abstinence, resting on hard beds, and assiduous labor: lastly, what is most rare, dead to themselves by meekness, sweetness, and charity, which no injuries or reproaches, no ingratitude, no perverseness, or malice, can ever weary or overcome: for a perfect victory over anger is a most essential part of the character of a good pastor, without which all his virtues will be tarnished, and he will reap no fruit of his labors. He makes this dreadful remark, that within the circle of his own acquaintance he had known many who in solitude led lives pleasing to God, but being advanced to the priesthood, lost both themselves and others. If no Christian can call to mind, without trembling, the dreadful account which he is to give at the tribunal of Christ for his own sins, how must he tremble at this thought, who sees himself charged with the sins and souls of others? Heb. xiii. 17. In the fourth book he proves that one unfit for the pastoral charge is not excused because it is imposed on him by others, as one unacquainted with the rules of architecture can by no means undertake to build, nor one to practise medicine who is a stranger to that profession. He speaks of the crime of those who choose unworthy pastors, and of the learning necessary for this charge, especially in applying suitable remedies to every spiritual disorder, in confuting Pagans, Jews, and heretics, and in instructing the faithful. A talent for preaching is an indispensable qualification. In the fifth book he prescribes the manner in which a preacher ought to announce the word of God, with what indefatigable pains, and with what purity of intention, desiring only to please God and plant his love in all hearts, and despising the applause of men, insensible both to their praise and censures. His discourse must be set off by piety, natural eloquence, plain simplicity, and dignity, that all may hear the divine word willingly, and with respect and pleasure, so as to wish at the end of the sermon that it were longer. The extreme danger of vain-glory so much alarmed him, that in the close of this book he again speaks against that vice, and says, that he who entirely subdued this furious wild beast, and cut off its numberless heads, enjoys a great interior calm, with infinite spiritual advantages; and that every one is bound to stand always armed against its assaults. In the sixth book, he shows that priests will be punished for the sins of others. It is no excuse for a watchman to say, I heard not the trumpet: I saw not the enemy approach, (Ezech. xxxiii. 3,) for he is appointed sentinel to watch and announce the danger to others. If a single soul perishes through his neglect, this will condemn him at the last day. In how great watchfulness must he live not to be infected with the contagion of the world, with which he is obliged to converse! With what zeal, vigilance, and fervor is he bound to acquit himself of all his duties and functions! For priests are ambassadors of heaven, sent not to one city, but to the whole earth, with a strict charge never to cease scattering the divine seed, preaching and exhorting with so great diligence, that no secret sinner may be able to escape them. They are moreover appointed by God mediators to intercede with him for the sins both of the living and the dead; to offer the tremendous sacrifice, and hold the common Lord of all things in their hands. With what purity, with what sanctity ought he to be adorned, who exercises so sublime a function? In it angels attend the priest, all the choir of heaven joins, and the holy place near the altar is occupied by legions of blessed spirits, in honor of Him who is laid upon it. This he confirms by a vision of a holy old man, who saw a multitude of bright spirits surrounding the altar, profoundly bowing their heads. "Another," says the {258} saint, "assured me, that he had both seen himself, and heard from others, that the souls of those who receive the holy mysteries before death, depart out of their bodies attended by angels as troops of heavenly guards." Lastly, he shows that sins are more easily committed, and are more grievous, in the episcopal ministry than in holy retirement. Basil, at this discourse, almost swooned away in the excess of grief and fear with which he was seized, till after some time, recovering himself, he said in the bitterness of his heart, What has the church of God committed to have deserved so dreadful a calamity, that the pastoral charge should be intrusted to the most unworthy of men? For he had before his eyes on one side the glory, the sanctity, the spiritual beauty and wisdom of the sacred spouse of Christ; and on the other, the sins and miseries of his own soul; and this consideration drew from him a flood of tears. Chrysostom said, that as to himself, upon the first news of his danger he had swooned away, and only returned to himself to vent his grief by abundance of tears; in which agony he passed all that time. He adds: "I will now discover to you the deplorable state of my mind at that time, that out of mere compassion you may forgive me what I have done; and I wish I could show you my wretched heart itself.--But all my alarms are now converted into joy." Basil replied: "But I am now plunged in bitter sorrow and tears: and what protection can I seek? If you have still any bowels of tenderness and compassion for my soul, any consolation in Christ, I conjure you never to forsake me in the dangers in which you have engaged me." St. Chrysostom answered, smiling, "In what can I serve you in your exalted station? However, when a respite from your functions affords you any leisure, I will wait upon you, and will never be wanting in any thing in my power." Basil at this arose weeping. St. John, embracing him and kissing his head, said, "Be of good courage, trusting in Christ, who has called you to his holy ministry."
In the first tome of his works, p. 228, we have a book which he composed when he was first made bishop of Constantinople, in 397, Against those who have sub-introduced Women; that is, against such of the clergy as kept deaconesses, or spiritual sisters, under the same roof to take care of their household. Saint Chrysostom condemns this custom as criminal in itself, both because dangerous, and because scandalous to others. Whatever pretext such persons allege of imaginary necessities, and of their security and precautions against the danger, he shows that there is always danger of their finding a lurking pleasure in such company. Though they perceive not any secret passion, he will not believe them exempt; for men are often the greatest strangers to their own hearts. He urges that this conduct is at least criminal, because it is an occasion and incentive of evil. Job, so holy a man, so dead to himself by long habits of mortification, durst not cast his eyes upon a virgin. St. Paul, not content with his continual fatigues and sufferings, added voluntary chastisements of his flesh to subdue it. What austerities do anchorets practise to tame their bodies, by perpetual fasts, watching, and sackcloth! yet never suffer even visits of persons of the other sex. Ironically inveighing against the presumption of such as had not the like saving apprehension of danger, he tells them; "I must indeed call these strong men happy, who have nothing to fear from such a danger, and I could wish myself to be endowed with equal strength," (t. 1, p. 231.) But he tells them this is as impossible as for a man to carry fire in his bosom without being burnt. "You bid me," says he, "believe that though I see you converse with a virgin, this is a work of piety, not passion. O wonderful man! this may be said of those who live not with men, but among stones," (t. 1, p. 235.) Our zealous pastor shows that the capital point in this warfare is, not to awake our domestic enemy, but by watchfulness to shun whatever can rouse him: and he adds, that though a man were invulnerable, he ought not to scandalize the weak, and by his example, draw them into a like snare. The stronger a person is, the more easy must it be to him not to give scandal. To the pretext of necessity, he answers, that this is mere madness, for a clergyman ought not to be so nice, either in his furniture or table. The saint addressed a like book to women, under this title: That regular (or religious) Women ought not to live in the same house with Men, (t. 1, p. 248.) Besides condemning this abuse and scandal, he zealously inveighs against the airy, light dress of many ladies, and pathetically invites all servants of God to mingle floods of tears with his in the bitter anguish of his soul, for a scandal by which snares are laid for others, souls murdered, (though undesignedly,) and sin against the divine Majesty propagated.
St. Chrysostom seems to have been only deacon when he compiled his book On St. Babylas, against the Gentiles; in which he speaks of the miracles wrought at his relics, as of facts to which he and his auditors had been eye-witnesses, (t. 2, p. 530.) Montfaucon refers to the same time his Synopsis of the Old Testament: in which he places in the canon the deutero-canonical books of Wisdom, Ecclesiasticus, Esther, Toby, and Judith: and out of the seven canonical epistles counts only three, viz: that of St. James, one of St. Peter, and one of St. John, (no others being received by the Syrians, as appears from Cosmas Indicopleustes,) t. 6, p. 308.
St Chrysostom was ordained priest by the patriarch Flavian, in 386, and appointed his ordinary preacher. On this occasion the saint made a sermon, (t. 1, p. 436,) in which he expresses his dread and surprise at his promotion, earnestly begs the prayers of the people, {259} and says he desires to entertain them on the praises of God, but was deterred by the checks of his conscience, and remorse for his sins: for the royal prophet, who invites all creatures, even dragons and serpents, to sound forth the praises of God, passes by sinners as unworthy to be allowed a place in that sacred choir: they are ignominiously ejected, as a musician cuts off a string that is not tunable with the rest.
The holy doctor, grieving for the spiritual blindness of many who were seduced by heresy, and considering their dangers as most grievous, and their miseries most pressing, preached five most eloquent sermons on the Incomprehensible Nature of God, against the Anomæans. He had taken notice that these heretics, who were very numerous in Syria, resorted willingly to his sermons with the Catholics, which afforded him an opportunity of more easily reclaiming them. The Anomæans were the followers of Eunomius, who, to the errors of the rankest Arianism, added a peculiar blasphemy, asserting that both the blessed in heaven, and also men in this mortal life, not only know God, but also comprehend and fathom the divine nature as clearly as we know our own, and even as perfectly as God comprehends himself. This fanaticism and impiety St. Chrysostom confutes in these five homilies, demonstrating, from the infinitude of the divine attributes, and from holy scriptures, that God is essentially incomprehensible to the highest angels. He strongly recommends to Catholics a modest and mild behavior towards heretics; for nothing so powerfully gains others as meekness and tender charity; this heals all wounds, whereas harshness exasperates and alienates the mind. (Hom. 2, p. 461.) His method is to close every discourse with some pathetic moral exhortation. In his third homily, On the Incomprehensible, he complains bitterly that many who heard his sermon with patience, left the church when it was at an end, without attending the celebration of the divine mysteries. He shows the efficacy of public prayer to be far greater than that of private, and a far more glorious homage to be paid by it to God: by this St. Peter was delivered from his chains; to it the apostles ascribed the wonderful success of their preaching. He mentions, that ten years ago, when a magistrate condemned for high treason was led to execution with a halter about his neck, the citizens ran in a body to the hippodrome to beg a reprieve; and the emperor, who was not able to reject the request of the whole city, readily granted the criminal a full pardon. Much more easily will the Father of mercy suffer himself to be overcome by the concord of many in prayer, and show mercy to sinners. Not only men join the tremendous voice during the sacred mysteries, but the angels and archangels present to the Father of all things the body of the Lord, entreating him to have mercy on them for whom he shed his blood, and sacrificed this very body. "By your acclamations you testify your approbation of what is said; but by your compliance show that your applause is sincere. This is the only applause that can give me pleasure or joy," &c., (p. 471.) In the following sermon (Hom. 4, p. 477) he commends their compliance by all assisting to the end of the public office, but severely finds fault that some conversed together in the church, and in that awful hour when the deacon cried out, "Let us stand attentive." He bids them call to mind that they are then raised above created things, placed before the throne of God, and associated with the seraphims and cherubims in sounding forth his praises, (p. 477.) In the fifth homily he again makes fervent and humble prayer, by which all things are obtained and effected, the subject of his moral exhortation. Public prayer is a duty which he frequently inculcates as a most essential obligation, a homage most honorable to God, and a most powerful means of grace to ourselves and all mankind. (See Hom. de Obscur. Prophet, t. 6, p. 187, &c.) We have seen other homilies of this father against the Anomæans, in which he proves the consubstantiality of God the Son; subjoining exhortations to prayer, humility, good works, &c. His sermon Upon not Anathematizing, (t. 1, p. 691,) was the fruit of his pious zeal to induce the Meletians and Paulinians to concord, and prevent private persons from anathematizing or branding others with the crime of heresy or schism; censures being reserved to the chief pastors, who are very sparing in using them. The spirit of Christ is meekness, and compassion and tenderness the means to gain souls. By this discourse he healed the sores left in the church of Antioch by the late schism. The Jews and the Gentiles shared in the fruits of his zeal and charity. Eight sermons which he preached against the Jews, whom he proves to have been cast off by God, and their ceremonial rites abolished, have reached us, and many others are lost. In his book Against the Jews and Gentiles, he demonstrates the Christian religion from the propagation of the gospel, the martyrs, prophecies, and the triumph of the cross: this ensign now adorns the crowns of emperors, is carried by every one on his forehead, and placed everywhere with honor, in houses, market-places, deserts, highways, mountains, hills, woods, ships, beds, clothes, arms, vessels, jewels, and pictures; on the bodies of beasts when sick, on energumens, &c. We are all more adorned with it than with crowns and a thousand precious stones; all eagerly visit the wood on which the sacred body was crucified; men and women have small particles of it set in gold, which they hang about their necks. On the 20th of December, 386, our saint pronounced his discourse on St. Philogonius, the twenty-fast bishop of Antioch. who had zealously opposed the rising heresy of Arius, and died on this day in 322. St. Chrysostom left the subject of the panegyric to his bishop Flavian, who {260} was to speak after him, and entertained his people with an exhortation to the holy communion on Christmas-day, five days after. He tells them the Magi had the happiness only of adoring Christ, but that they who should approach him with a pure conscience, would receive him and carry him with them; that he whose life is holy and free from crimes, may communicate every day; but he who is guilty in the sight of God, not even on the greatest festival. Nevertheless, the sinner ought to prepare himself, by a sincere conversion and by good works, during the interval of five days, and then communicate. The Ninevites appeased the divine vengeance in three days by the fervor of their penance.
In his homily On the Calends, or First Day of the Year, (t. 1, p. 697,) he inveighs with great zeal against rioting and revels usual in that season, and strongly exhorts all to spend that day in works of piety, and in consecrating the year to God. As builders raise a wall by a ruler or plummet, that no unevenness may spoil their work, so must we make the sincere intention of the divine glory our rule in our prayers, fasts, eating, drinking, buying, selling, silence, and discourse. This must be our great staff, our arms, our rampart, our immense treasure: wherever we are, and whatever we say or do, we must bear this motto always written on our heart: "To the glory of God;" ever glorifying God, not barely in words, but by all our actions in the sincere affections of our hearts, that we may receive glory from him who says: "Those who glorify me, I will crown with glory," (p. 697.)
In seven discourses, On Lazarus and the Rich Man, he shows that a life of sensuality and pleasures is condemned by Christ; laments that any Christian should abandon himself to debauchery, and declares he will never cease to pursue sinners by his exhortations, as Christ did Judas, to the last moment: if any remain obstinately incorrigible, he shall esteem it a great happiness if he reclaim but one soul, or even prevent but one sin; at least that he can never see God offended and remain silent. (Hom. 1.) He sets off the advantages of afflictions, which are occasions of all virtue, and even in the reprobate, at least abate the number of their sins, and the torments of another life. In the seventh homily, he severely condemns the diversions of the circus, and expresses the most tender grief that any Christian should so far forget God as to frequent them. He paternally exhorts all such to repentance; proves afflictions and the cross to be the portion of the just in this life, and says, "That they whom God does not visit with tribulations, ought at least to afflict themselves by the labors of penance, the only path which can conduct us with Lazarus to God," (p. 736.)
In the second tome, we have the holy doctor's twenty-one sermons to the people of Antioch, or, On the Statues; the following discourses, to the number of sixty, in the old editions not being genuine, but patched up by modern Greeks, chiefly out of several works of this father. The great sedition happened at Antioch on the 26th of February, 387, just after the saint had preached the first of the sermons, in which he spoke against drunkenness and blasphemy, pressing all persons to expel their company any one who should blaspheme. After the sedition, he was silent, in the general grief and consternation, for seven days: then made his second sermon, in which he tells the people that their confusion and remorse is itself a greater punishment than it was in the power of the emperor to inflict; he exhorts them to alms-deeds, and to hope in the mercy of Christ, who, leaving the earth, left us his own flesh, which yet he carried with him to heaven, and that blood which he spilt for us, he again imparted to us. After this, what will he refuse to do for our salvation? The third sermon being made in the beginning of Lent, the preacher inculcates the obligation of fasting: from his words it is clear that Christians then abstained from wine and fish no less than from fowls and all flesh. He insists chiefly on the moral fast of the will from all sin, and of all the senses by self-denials in each of them. Detraction he singles out as the most common sin, and exhorts us to abhor, with the royal prophet, every one who secretly detracts another; to say to such, "If you have any thing to say to the advantage of another, I will hear you with pleasure; but if you have only ill to tell me, this is what I cannot listen to." If detracters were thoroughly persuaded that by their evil speeches they rendered themselves more odious than those of whom they speak ill, they would be effectually cured of this pestilential habit. The saint draws an inference from what the people then saw before their eyes, and represented to them that if emperors punish with extreme rigor those who injure their statues, with what severity will God revenge the injury done by the detracter to his living image, and that offered by the blasphemer to his own adorable name. In the fourth homily, he speaks on the usefulness of afflictions, which withdraw men from many dangers of sin, and make them earnestly seek God. In the fifth, he continues the same subject, and shows that they ought not to fear death, if they prepare themselves for it by sincere penance. Their conversion he would have them begin by correcting the habit of swearing, which had taken deep root among many of them. This victory, he says, would be easy if every one who had contracted such a habit would enjoin himself some penance for every oath which should escape him, as the loss of a meal. "Hunger and thirst," says the saint, "will put you in mind always to watch over yourself, and you will stand in need of no other exhortation." In the sixth, he shows that death is desirable to a Christian, who, by a penitential life, in imitation of the holy anchorets, is dead to the world and himself. {261} In the fourteenth, he describes the dreadful consternation with which the whole city was filled at the sight of new troops, and of a tribunal erected; and, to awake sinners to a sincere repentance, he sets before their eyes the terrors of the last judgment. In the twentieth, he exhorts them to redouble their fervor in preparing their souls for the Paschal communion, the nearer that time approached; especially by forgiving all injuries. In the twenty-first, which was spoken on Easter-day, after the return of the patriarch, he recites great part of Flavian's speech, and the emperor's gracious answer, whose clemency he elegantly extols, with a pathetic exhortation to the people never to forget the divine mercy. From the mention he makes of Flavian's speech, (Hom. 3, p. 35,) it appears that our saint had concerted it with him. He preached every day this Lent; but only these twenty-one have reached us: and only two catechetical discourses, out of many others which he made about Easter that year to the catechumens. In the first he censures those who defer baptism, and explains the names and fruits of that great sacrament; in the second, he exhorts them always to bear in mind, and to repeat to themselves, on every occasion, those solemn words, "I renounce thee, Satan;" and to make it the study of their whole lives to be ever faithful to this most sacred engagement. He next puts them in mind, that they ought to pray without intermission, and always to have God before their eyes, at work, in the shop, abroad, sitting, or whatever else they were doing.
About the year 392, Diodorus, bishop of Tarsus, formerly St. Chrysostom's master, happened to preach at Antioch, and in his sermon highly commended our saint, whom he called John the Baptist, the voice of the church, and the rod of Moses. The people, by loud acclamations, testified how agreeable these encomiums of their preacher were to them: only St. Chrysostom heard them with grief and confusion, and ascribed them to the fondness of a good master, and the charity of the people. Afterwards, ascending the pulpit, he said that every word of the discourse had struck him to the heart, and made him sigh within himself: for praises sting the conscience no less than sins, when a soul is conscious to herself how far she is from what is said of her: they only set before her eyes the last day, in which, to her greater confusion, all things will appear naked and as they are; for we shall not be judged by the masks which are put on us by other men. T. 3, F. 747.
In three sermons On the Devil, he shows that the divine mercy has restored us more by grace in our redemption, than the devil has robbed us of by the sin of Adam; and that the punishment itself of that sin served to set forth the excess of the divine mercy and goodness, (Hom. 1, de Diabolo, t. 2, p. 246;) that temptations and the devil's malice are occasions of great advantage, if we make a good use of them: that temporal calamities are sent by God: we fall into sin only by our own malice: the devil has no power against us but by the divine permission, and all his efforts are weak, unless by our sloth we give him power over us. He draws a parallel between Adam sinning in paradise by his free will, and Job victorious by patience on his dunghill under his sufferings, of which he gives a lively description, showing them to have been far more grievous than all the calamities under which we so easily lose our patience and crown.
In nine homilies On Penance, he extols its efficacy, and invites all sinners to repentance. Hom. 6, p. 316, he vehemently condemns stage entertainments, which he calls the school of pleasure, the seat of pestilence, and the furnace of Babylon. Hom. 3, he calls alms the queen of virtues, and charity and compassion the key of the divine mercy. Hom. 9, p. 347, he presses all to assist assiduously at the divine mysteries, but with attention, awe, and trembling.
In two homilies On the Treason of Judas, (p. 376,) he recommends meekness towards persecutors, and the pardon of injuries, by which we reap from them, without trouble of expense, the most precious of all advantages, grace and the pardon of our sins. Speaking on the holy eucharist, he says, that Christ gives us in it the same body which he delivered to death for us, and that he refused not to present to Judas the very blood which that traitor sold. (Hom. 1, de proditione Judæ, t. 2, p. 383.) He repeats the same thing, (Hom. 2, ib. p. 393.) He observes, that as God, by his word, (Gen. i. 28,) propagates and multiplies all things in nature to the end of the world, so it is not the priest, but Christ, by the words pronounced by the priest, and by virtue of those which he spoke at his last supper, saying, "This is my body," who changes the offering (or bread and wine) in every church from that to this time, and consummates the sacrifice till his coming. (Hom. 1, ib. p. 383.)
In two homilies, On the Cross, and on the Good Thief, preached on Good Friday, he makes many excellent reflections on the conversion of the latter, and on the precept of our forgiving injuries, by which we become true imitators of Christ, and inherit the privileges of his disciples. The cross he commends as the instrument of Christ's glorious triumph, and of our happiness.
In a homily On the Resurrection of the Dead, he proves this article to be the foundation, both of our faith, and of our morals. In that On the Resurrection of our Lord, he tells his flock, that on that day (which was the solemnity of Easter) they were no longer obliged to drink only water, to abstain from the bath, to live on herbs and pulse, and to fast as in Lent; but that they were bound to shun intemperance: he speaks against drunkenness, {262} and says the poor have equal reason for joy and thanksgiving with the rich on that solemnity, the advantages which it brings consisting in spiritual graces, not in feasting or pomp. In the first homily, On Whitsunday, he proves, that though the descent of the Holy Ghost is no longer manifested by miracles, since the faith had been sufficiently established by them, it was not less real, though made in an invisible manner in our souls, by his grace and peace. In the second, on the same feast, he calls Whitsunday the accomplishment of all the mysteries of our faith; and teaches that the Holy Ghost delayed his descent, that he might not come upon the apostles in vain, or without having been long and earnestly desired; and that he manifested his descent by the emblem of tongues of fire, to represent that he consumes like fire the thorns of our souls, and that his principal gift is charity. His seven homilies On St. Paul, are standing proofs of his singular veneration for that great apostle, and admiration of his divine virtues. In the third, speaking of that apostle's ardent love of God, which made ignominies and torments for his sake a triumph, and a subject of joy and pleasure, he seems to surpass himself, (p. 481.) In the sixth, he speaks of miracles wrought at the relics of St. Babylas at Daphne, and says, that the devil trembled at the name of Christ, and fled whenever it was pronounced. In many other homilies he speaks in raptures on the admirable virtues of St. Paul, whose spirit he had imbibed and studied in his writings and example. The miracles of St. Babylas are the subject of a panegyric, which St. Chrysostom has left us on that holy martyr, (ib. p. 531.) We have his panegyrics or homilies on St. Meletius, St. Lucian, SS. Juventinus and Maximin, St. Pelagia, St. Ignatius, St. Eustathius, St. Romanus, the Maccabees, SS. Bernice, Prosodoche, and Domnina, St. Drosis, St. Phocas, &c., in which he frequently and strongly recommends the most devout veneration for their relics. See that on St. Ignatius, p. 593, &c. In homily 1, On the Martyrs, (p. 650,) he says that the very sight of their relics more strongly moves to virtue than the most pathetic sermons, and that their shrines are more precious than the richest earthly treasures, and that the advantages which these relics afford, are not diminished by their division, but multiplied. Some being surprised that in this discourse he had compared the crime of an unworthy communion to that of the Jews, who crucified Christ, he made another under this title, That we are not to preach to please Men; in which he repeats and enforces the same comparison; but adds a serious exhortation to frequent communion, after a sincere repentance, and the distinct confession of every sin; "For it is not enough to say, I am a sinner, but every kind of sin is to be expressed," (p, 667.) Though some circumstances aggravate a sacrilegious communion beyond the crime of Judas and that of the crucifiers of Christ; the last was doubtless, as St. Thomas Aquinas shows, far more enormous in itself; an injury offered to Christ in his own natural form differing from an insult which he receives hid under sacramental veils, though it is hard to imagine that any crime into which a Christian can fall since the death of Christ, can be more enormous than an unworthy communion. St. Chrysostom, in his second sermon On the Martyrs, (p. 668,) bids the faithful remain a long time in prayer at their tombs, and devoutly kiss their shrines, which abound with blessings. In that On the Martyrs of Egypt, (p. 699,) he calls their relics dispersed in different places, "the ramparts of the cities," &c. In that On the Earthquake, he expresses a deep and tender concern for the public calamity, but rejoices at the spiritual advancement of the people, saying, that this scourge had wrought such a change in them, that they seemed to be become angels. Two books On Prayer, bear the name of St. Chrysostom: if they are not mentioned by the ancients among his works, that most important subject is treated in them in a manner not unworthy his pen. This book is made use of in many pious schools as a Greek classic, with another On the Education of Children, full of excellent maxims, ascribed to our saint; but unjustly, for it is a compilation, made without much method, out of several of his sermons and other works.
The first part of the third tome, in the Benedictin edition, presents us thirty-four elegant sermons of this saint on divers texts of holy scripture, and on various Christian virtues and duties. Those on forgiving injuries, humility, alms, prayer, widowhood, and three on marriage, particularly deserve attention. That On Alms he took occasion to preach from the extreme miseries under which he saw the beggars groan, lying abandoned in the streets as he passed through them coming to the church; whence it is inferred by Tillemont and others, that it was spoken extempore, or without preparation. He says, that water does not so easily wash away the spots of our clothes, as alms blot out the stains of our souls. On Marriage, he proves that state to be holy, and will not have it dishonored by profane pomps, which no custom can authorize; as by them God is offended. Christ is to be invited to give the nuptial blessing in the persons of the priests, and what many throw away on musicians, would be a grateful sacrifice to God if bestowed on the poor. Every one ought to be ambitious to set the example of so wholesome and holy a custom, which others would imitate. What incomparable advantages does a wife bring to a house, when she enters it loaded with the blessings of heaven? This is a fortune far beyond all the riches of the world. In the third discourse, he speaks of the inviolable precept of mutual tender love which the husband and wife are bound constantly to bear each other, and of forgetting one another's faults, as {263} a man in engaging in this state seeks a companion for life, the saint observes that nothing is busier than for him to make it an affair of traffic, or a money job. A wife with a moderate fortune usually brings more complaisance and submission, and blesses a house with peace, union, and friendship. How many rich men, by marrying great fortunes, in seeking to increase their estates, have forfeited the repose of their minds for the rest of their lives. A virtuous wife gives every succor and comfort to a family, by the virtuous education of her children, by possessing the heart of her husband, and by furnishing supplies for every necessity, and comfort in every distress. Virtue was the only quality and circumstance which Abraham was solicitous about in the choice which he made of a wife for his son. Among the letters of the saint, which, with certain scattered homilies, fill up the latter part of this volume, the seventeen addressed to St. Olympias, both by the subjects and style, deserve rather the title of treatises than of epistles.
The fourth tome contains sixty-seven homilies on Genesis, which were preached at Antioch during Lent, some year later than 386. Photius takes notice, that in these his style is less correct than in any of his other writings, and as far beneath his comments on the Acts of the Apostles, as those fall short of his most eloquent discourses on Isaiah, or on the epistles of St. Paul. His parentheses are sometimes so long, that he forgets to wind up his discourse and return to his subject: for speaking not only with little or no preparation, but without much attention to a regular method, for the instruction of the peoples, he suffered himself often to be carried sway with the ardor with which some new important thought inspired him. Yet the purity of his language, the liveliness of his images and similes, the perspicuity of his expression, and the copiousness of his invention, never fall: his thoughts and words flow everywhere in a beautiful stream, like an impetuous river. He interweaves excellent moral instructions against vain-glory, detraction, rash judgment, avarice, and the cold words mine and thine; on prayer, &c. His encomiums of Abraham and other patriarchs, are set off by delicate strokes. In the first thirty-two he often explains the conditions of the Lent fast. In the year 386, during Lent, at which time the church read the book of Genesis, he explained the beginning thereof in eight elegant sermons, t. 4, p. 615. In the first, he congratulates with the people for the great joy and holy eagerness for penance with which they received the publication of the Lent fast, this being the most favorable season for obtaining the pardon of sins, and reaping the most abundant heavenly blessings and graces; a season in which the heavens are in a particular manner open, through the joint prayers, fasts, and alms of the whole church. These are usually called sermons on Genesis, in order to be distinguished from the foregoing homilies, which were posterior to them in time. Five sermons On Anna, the mother of Samuel, (t. 4, p. 6{}9,) were preached at Antioch in 387, after the emperor had granted his gracious pardon for the sedition. The saint treats in them on fasting, the honor due to martyrs and their relics, on purity, the education of children, the spiritual advantages of poverty, and on perpetual earnest prayer, which he recommends to be joined with every ordinary action, and practised at all times, by persons while they spun, walked, sat, lay down, &c. Invectives against stage-entertainments occur both in those, and in the following three discourses On David, in which he says many excellent things also on patience, and on forgiving injuries. (T. 4, p. 747.)
The fifth tome presents us with fifty-eight sermons on the Psalms. He explained the whole Psalter; but the rest of the discourses are lost; a misfortune much to be regretted, these being ranked among the most elegant and beautiful of his works. In them notice is taken of several differences in the Greek translations of Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion; also in the Hebrew text, though written in Greek letters, as in Origen s Hexapla. The critics find the like supply for restoring parts of these ancient versions also in the spurious homilies in the appendix of this volume, compiled by some other ancient Greek preacher. In this admired work of St. Chrysostom the moral instructions are most beautiful, on prayer, especially that of the morning, meekness, compunction, careful self-examination every evening, fasting, humility, alms, &c. In Pa. 43, p. 146, he thus apostrophizes the rich: "Hear this, you all who are slack in giving alms: hear this, you who, by hoarding up your treasures, lose them yourselves: hear me you, who, by perverting the end of your riches, are no better by them than those who are rich only in a dream; nay, your condition is fair worse," &c. He says that the poor, though they seem so weak, have arms more powerful and more terrible than the greatest magistrates and princes; for the sighs and groans which they send forth in their distresses, pierce the heavens, and draw down vengeance without thinking to demand it, upon the rich, upon cities, upon whole nations. In Ps. 11, p. 120, he will have prayer to be made effectual by the exercise of all virtues and good works, especially by a pure love of God, hunger after his justice alone, and disengagement of the heart from all love of earthly things. In P. 41, p. 190, this prayer by aspirations, which may be borrowed from the psalms, he recommends to be practised in all places and times. Ib. He insists, that with David we begin the day by prayer, doing nothing before this duty to God be complied with: and that with him we consecrate part of the night to compunction and prayer. In. Ps. 6, he says many excellent things on the remedies we are bound to employ against concupiscence, especially assiduous prayer, shunning {264} all occasions which can prove incentives to this enemy or to our senses, and above all dangerous company; assiduous meditation on death and hell, &c. Ib. God only afflicts the just out of the excess of his love for them, and desire to unite them closely to himself. In Ps. 114, p. 308, as the Jews obtained not their return from their captivity to Jerusalem but by long and earnestly desiring it, so only an ardent and pure desire of the heavenly Jerusalem can raise us thither; and an attachment to earthly goods and pleasures links us to our slavery, and chains us down too fast for us ever to rise so high. In Ps. Graduales, p. 328, it was the custom at Antioch for all the faithful to recite, every morning, the 140th psalm, which he desires them carefully to understand, so as to penetrate the riches of the excellent sentiments every word contains, in order to repeat it with more dilated affections of the heart. In like manner he mentions that the 62d psalm was recited by all every evening. From his exposition of Ps. 41, p. 131, it appears that the people answered by repeating the first verse of every psalm, after every verse, as it was sung by the clergy.
In the sixth tome occur his excellent discourses on the seven first chapters of Isaiah: then his four homilies on the fall of king Ozias, (Isa. vi.,) in which he sets forth the danger of pride, and necessity of perseverance and constant watchfulness. (T. 6, p. 94.) After several homilies on certain texts of Jeremy, Daniel, &c., we have his two elegant discourses On the Obscurity of the Prophets, in which he shows that the wisdom of Providence is displayed; for too great perspicuity would not have so well answered the various ends of the Old Law. The advantages of public prayer are here strongly set forth; and in the second the saint declaims against detraction, a vice which brings neither profit nor pleasure, yet is most enormous even in those who only listen to it. If he who scandalizes one brother is so grievously punished, what will be the chastisement of him who scandalizes so many? We are bound to cover, not to proclaim the faults of others; but it is our duty to endeavor to reclaim and save sinners, according to the precept of Christ. The very company of detracters ought to be shunned: to correct, or at least set a mark upon such, he wishes, in order that they may be known and avoided, they were publicly branded with the name of flies, because, like these insects, they delight to dwell on filth and corruption. In the homily On Perfect Charity, he draws a most amiable portraiture of that virtue in society; and another, in striking colors, of the day of judgment. It is uncertain by what accident the imperfect work of St. Matthew was formerly taken by some for a performance of St. Chrysostom. The mistake is notorious; for the author declares himself an advocate for Arian ism, (Hom. 19, 22, 28, &c.,) and for the re-baptization of heretics. (Hom. 13 and 15.) He seems to have written about the beginning of the seventh century, and to have been a Latin, (not a Greek,) for he follows closely the Latin text.
The commentary of St. Chrysostom on St. Matthew fills the seventh tome, and consists of ninety homilies: the old Latin version, by dividing the nineteenth into two, counts ninety-one. They were preached at Antioch, probably in the year 390. This literal and most pious exposition of that gospel contains the whole practical science of virtues and vices, and is an inexhausted source of excellent morality, and a finished model of preaching the word of God, and of expounding the oracles of eternal life for the edification of souls. St. Thomas Aquinas was possessed only of a bad Latin translation of this unparalleled work, yet said he would rather be master of this single book than of the whole city of Paris. The example of the saint shows that the most essential preparation for the study of the holy scriptures consists in simplicity and purity of heart, an eminent spirit of prayer, and habitual profound meditation on the sacred oracles. Thus qualified, he, with admirable sagacity and piety, penetrates and unfolds the unbounded spiritual riches of the least tittle in the divine word; and explains its sacred truths with incomparable ease, perspicuity, elegance, and energy of style. The moral instructions are enforced by all the strength and ornaments of the most sweet and persuasive eloquence. Inveighing against the stage, he calls it the reign of vice and iniquity, and the ruin of cities: and commends the saying of that ancient Roman, who, hearing an account of the usual entertainments which were represented on the stage, and how eagerly the citizens ran to them, cried out, "Have they then neither wives nor children at home?" giving to understand, that men ought not to seek diversion abroad which they would more rationally procure at home with those whom they love. (Hom. 37, p. 414.) On the precept of self-denial he takes notice, that by it Christ commands us, first, to be crucified to our own flesh and will; secondly, to spare ourselves in nothing; thirdly, not only to deny ourselves, but thoroughly to deny ourselves; by this little particle thoroughly, adding great force to his precept. He says further, Let him take up his cross; this is, bearing not only all reproaches and injurious words, but also every kind of sufferings or death. (Hom. 55, p. 556.) On Vain Glory, he calls it the most tyrannical of all the diseases of the soul, (Hom. 19, p. 244,) and pathetically laments the extreme misery of a soul that forsakes God, who would commend and reward her, to court the empty esteem of the vainest of all creatures, and those who will the more hate and despise her as she more eagerly hunts after applause. He compares her to a king's daughter who should abandon a most amiable and rich prince, to run night and day through the streets after fugitives and slaves, that hate and fly from her as the {265} basest of prostitutes. Those she seeks to have for witnesses and applauders, or rather she herself, act the part of robbers, and rifle treasures laid up even in heaven in a place of safety. The devil sees them inaccessible to his arts, therefore employs this worm to devour them. When you bestow an alms, shut your door; let him alone to whom you give it be witness, nor even him if possible; of others see you they will proclaim your vain-glory, and be published by God himself. (Hom. 71.) Speaking on alms, (Hom. 66,) he says, that the Church of Antioch was then possessed only of the revenue of one rich and of one poor man, yet maintained three thousand virgins and widows, besides hospitals &c. What then is not one rich man able to do? But they have children. The saint replies, that the best fortune they can leave is a treasure laid up in heaven. Every one is bound at least to count the poor among his children, and allot to them one half, a third, or at least a tenth part. He declares (Hom. 88.) that he will never cease preaching on the obligation, efficacy, and advantages of alms. He asserts, (Hom. 85,) that in the church of Antioch were contained one hundred thousand souls; besides whom as many Jews and idolaters dwelt in that city. (Hom. in St. Ignat. t. 2, p. 591.) He applauds the constancy and virtue of a famous actress, (Hom. 67,) who being converted to God, would not be compelled by the threats of the governor or any punishment, to appear again upon the stage. In Hom. 68 and 69, he gives an amiable and edifying account of the lives of the monks of Syria: and (Hom. 47, 80, 81, 90, &c.) commends a state of voluntary poverty, and preaches on the contempt of the world. On visiting the tombs of martyrs, to obtain health of body and every spiritual advantage, see Hom. 37, 424. On the sign of the cross he says, (Hom. 54, p. 551,) "Let us carry about the cross of Christ as a crown, and let no one blush at the ensign of salvation. By it is every thing in religion done: the cross is employed if a person is regenerated, or fed with the mystical food, or ordained; whatever else is to be done, this ensign of victory is ever present; therefore we have it in our houses, paint it on our walls and windows, make it on our foreheads, and always carry it devoutly in our hearts. We must not content ourselves with forming it with our fingers, but must do it with great sentiments of faith and devotion. If you thus form it on your face, no unclean spirit will be able to stand against you when he beholds the instrument which has given him the mortal stab. If we tremble at the sight of the place where criminals are executed, think what the devils must suffer when they see that weapon by which Christ stripped them of their power, and cut off the head of their leader. Be not ashamed of so great a good which has been bestowed on you, lest Christ should be ashamed of you when he shall appear in glory, and this standard be borne before him brighter than the rays of the sun; for then the cross shall appear speaking as it were with a loud voice. This sign, both in the time of our forefathers and in our own, has opened gates, deadened malignant poisons, and healed wounds made by the sting or bite of venomous creatures. If it has broken down the gates of hell, unbolted those of paradise, destroyed the empire and weakened the powers of the devil, what wonder if it overcomes poisons and wild beasts?" On the virtue of the sign of the cross, see also Hom. 8, ib. and Hom. 4, de St. Paolo, t. 2, 9. 494, et de libello repudii, t. 3, p. 204, &c. On the Holy Eucharist, he gives frequent and admirable instructions. Speaking of the sick, who were cured by touching the hem of Christ's garments, he adds, (Hom. 50, p. 517,) "What grace is not in our power to receive by touching and receiving his holy body? What if you hear not his voice; you see him laid. He has given us himself to eat, and has set himself in the state of a victim sacrificed before us," &c. And Hom. 82, p. 787, he writes: "How many now say, they wish to see his shape, his garments? You desire to see his garments, but he gives himself to you not only to be seen, but to be touched, to be eaten, to be received within you. Then what beam of the sun ought not that hand to be more which divides this flesh? that mouth which is filled with this spiritual fire? that tongue which is purpled with this adorable blood? The angels beholding it tremble, and dare not look thereupon through awe and fear, and on account of the rays which dart from that wherewith we are nourished, with which we are mingled, being made one body, one flesh with Christ. What shepherd ever fed his sheep with his own limbs? nay, many mothers give their children to other nurses; whereas he feeds us with his own blood," &c. It is a familiar reflection of our saint, that by the communion we become of one flesh and of one body with Christ, to express the close union of our souls with him in this divine sacrament. In the same Homily, 82, (olim 83,) on St. Matthew, p. 782, t. 7, he says, the apostles were not affrighted when they heard Christ assure them, This is my body; because he had before initiated them in most wonderful mysteries, and made them witnesses to many prodigies and miracles, and had already instructed them in this very sacrament, at which they had been at first much struck, and some of them scandalized. John vi. Moreover, that they might not fear, or say, Shall we then drink his blood and eat his flesh? he set the example in taking the cup, and drinking his own blood the first of all. The saint charges us (ib. p. 787) not to question or contradict the words of Christ, but to captivate our reason and understanding in obeying him, and believing his word, which cannot deceive us, whereas our senses often lead us into mistakes. When, therefore, he tells us, This is {266} my body, we must believe him, and consider the mystery with spiritual eyes; for we learn from him, that what he gives us is something spiritual, which falls not under our senses. See this further on the same subject, Hom. 50, (olim 51,) in Matt. pp. 516, 517, 518. Hom. de Baptismo Christi, t. 2, pp. 374, 375. Hom. in Laudem Martyrum, t. 2, p. 654. Hom non esse ad gratiam concionandum, ib. pp. 658, 659. Expos. in Ps. 46, t. 5, p. 189, and in Pd. 133, p. 382. Hom. 5, in illud: Vidi Dominum, t. 6, p. 143. Hom. de St. Philogonio, t. 1, p. 498, besides the passages quoted in this abstract. In the same comments on St. Matthew, t. 7, Hom. 82, p. 788, he vehemently exhorts the faithful to approach the holy table with a burning thirst and earnest desire to suck in the spiritual milk, as it were, from the divine breasts. As children throw themselves into the bosom of their nurse or mother, and eagerly suck their breast, so ought we with far greater ardor to run to the sacred mysteries, to draw into our hearts, as the children of God, the grace of his Holy Spirit. To be deprived of this heavenly food ought to be to us the most sensible, nay, our only grief, (ib p. 788.) Nothing can be more tender than his exhortations to frequent communion; he even recommends it daily, (Hom. de St. Philogonio, t. 1, pp. 499, 500,) provided persons lead Christian lives, and bring suitable dispositions. But no solemnity can be a reason for those who are under the guilt of sin ever to approach in that state. (Ib,) No terms can be stronger than those in which he speaks in many places of the enormity of a sacrilegious communion, which he compares to the crime of Judas who betrayed Christ, of the Jews who crucified him, sud of Herod who sought to murder him in his cradle, (Hom. 7, in Matt. p. 112, &c.,) and frequently explains the dispositions requisite to approach worthily the holy table, insisting chiefly on great purity of soul, fervent devotion, and a vehement hunger and thirst after this divine banquet. (Hom. 17, in Heb. t. 12, p. 169. Hom. 24, in 1 Cor t. 10, p. 218, &c.) He denounces the most dreadful threats of divine vengeance against unfaithful ministers who admit to it notorious sinners. (Hom. 72, in Matt. t. 7, pp. 789, 790.) "Christ," says he, "will demand of you an account of his blood, if you give it to those who are unworthy. If any such person presents himself, though he were general of the army, or emperor, drive him from the holy table. The power with which you are invested is above that of an emperor. If you dare not refuse to admit the unworthy, inform me. I will rather suffer my blood to be spilt than offer this sacred blood to one who is unworthy," &c. (Ib.) In this work of St. Chrysostom upon St. Matthew, we meet with beautiful instructions on almost every Christian virtue. Read Hom. 38, on humility, which he styles the queen of all virtues; Hom. 58, where he calls it the beginning of a virtuous life; and Hom. 65, where he shows that it exalts a man above the highest dignities. On the entire contempt of the world as a nothing, Hom. 12, 33, &c. On the happiness of him who serves God, whom the whole world cannot hurt, Hom. 24, 56, 90. Against avarice, Hom. 28, 74, 63. Against drunkenness, Hom. 70. On compunction, Hom. 41, where he proves it indispensable from the continual necessity of penance for hidden sins, and for detraction, vain-glory, avarice, &c. We ought also to weep continually for our dangers. Speaking on the same virtue, Hom. 6, p. 94, he, teaches that compunction is the daughter of divine love, which consumes in the heart all affections for temporal things, so that a man is disposed with pleasure to part with the whole world and life itself. A soul is by it made light, and soaring above all things visible, despises them as nothing. He who is penetrated with this spirit of love and compunction, frequently breaks into floods of tears; but these tears afford him incredible sweetness and pleasure. He lives in cities as if he were in a wilderness; so little notice does he take of the things of this life. He is never satiated with tears which he pours forth for his own sins and those of others. Hence the saint takes occasion to launch forth into the commendation of the gift of holy tears, pp. 96, 97. He inveighs against stage entertainments, Hom. 6, 7, 17, 37, &c. See especially Hom. contra ludos et theatra, t. 6, 274.
On Hell, he says (Hom. 23, in Matt.) that the loss of God is the greatest of all the pains which the damned endure, nay, more grievous than a thousand hells. Many tremble at the name of hell; but he much more at the thought of losing God, which the state of damnation implies. (Ib.) He distinguishes in hell the loss of God, and secondly, fire and the other pains of sense. (Hom. 47.) He shows that company abates nothing in its torments. (Hom. 43.) Some object that to meditate on those torments is too frightful; to whom he answers, that this is most agreeable, because by it we learn to shun them, the hope of which inspires joy, and so great earnestness in the practice of penance, that austerities themselves become agreeable. (Ib.) He often mentions grace before and after meat; and, Hom. 55, p. 561, recites that which the monks about Antioch used before their meals, as follows: "Blessed God, who feedest me from my youth, who givest nourishment to all flesh, fill our hearts with joy, that being supported by thy bounty we may abound in every good work to Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom be all honor, praise, and glory given with the Holy Ghost, world without end. Amen. Glory be to thee, O Lord; glory be to thee, O Holy; glory be to thee, O King, because Thou hast given us food in joyfulness. Fill us with thy Holy Spirit, that we may be found acceptable in thy sight, that we may not be covered with confusion when Thou shalt render to every one according to his works:" This whole prayer is {267} admirable, says the saint, but especially the close, the remembrance of the last day being a bridle and check to sensuality and concupiscence. (Ib.) The saint shows (Horn. 86, p. 810) the malice and danger of small faults wilfully committed, which many are apt to make slight of; but from such the most dreadful falls take their rise. The old Latin translation of St. Chrysostom's homilies on St. Matthew, is too full of words, and often inaccurate. Anian, the author, seems to have been the Pelagian deacon of that name, who assisted at the council of Diospolis in 415. The new Latin translation is far more exact, but very unequal in elegance and dignity of expression to the original.