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BOOK I.

CONTENTS.

I.HOW BASIL EXCELLED ALL THE FRIENDS OF CHRYSOSTOM.

II.THE UNANIMITY OF BASIL AND CHRYSOSTOM, AND THEIR JOINT STUDY OF ALL SUBJECTS.

III.THE BALANCE UPSET IN THE PURSUIT OF THE MONASTIC LIFE.

IV.THE PROPOSAL TO OCCUPY A COMMON HOME.

V.THE FOND ENTREATIES OF CHRYSOSTOM'S MOTHER.

VI.THE DECEIT EMPLOYED BY CHRYSOSTOM IN THE MATTER OF ORDINATION.

VII.CHRYSOSTOM'S DEFENCE IN REPLY TO OBJECTIONS.
VIII.THE GREAT ADVANTAGE OF DECEIT WHEN WELL TIMED; CONCLUSION AND GENERAL  REMARKS.

    1. I HAD many genuine and true friends, men who understood the laws of friendship, and faithfully observed  them; but out of this large number there was one who excelled all the rest in his attachment to me, striving to  outstrip them as much as they themselves outstripped ordinary acquaintance. He was one of those who were  constantly at my side; for we were engaged in the same studies, and employed the same teachers.(1) We had the  same eagerness and zeal about the studies at which we worked, and a passionate desire produced by the same  circumstances was equally strong in both of us. For not only when we were attending school, but after we had left  it, when it became necessary to consider what course of life it would be best for us to adopt, we found ourselves to  be of the same mind.
    2. And in addition to these, there were other things also which preserved and maintained this concord unbroken  and secure. For as regarded the greatness of our fatherland neither had one cause to vaunt himself over the other,  nor was I burdened with riches, and he pinched by poverty, but our means corresponded as closely as our tastes.  Our families also were of equal rank, and thus everything concurred with our disposition.
    3. But when it became our duty to pursue the blessed life of monks, and the true philosophy,(2) our balance was  no longer even, but his scale mounted high, while I, still entangled in the lusts of this world, dragged mine down  and kept it low, weighting it with those fancies in which youths are apt to indulge. For the future our friendship  indeed remained as firm as it was before, but our intercourse was interrupted; for it was impossible for persons  who were not interested about the same things to spend much time together. But as soon as I also began to emerge  a little from the flood of worldliness, he received me with open arms; yet not even thus could we maintain our  former equality: for having got the start of me in time, and having displayed great earnestness, he rose again above  my level, and soared to a great height.
    4. Being a good man, however, and placing a high value on my friendship, he separated himself from all the rest  (of the brethren), and spent the whole of his time with me, which he had desired to do before, but had been  prevented as I was saying by my frivolity. For it was impossible for a man who attended the law-courts, and was in  a flutter of excitement

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about the pleasures of the stage, to be often in the company of one who was nailed to his books, and never set foot  in the market place. Consequently when the hindrances were removed, and he had brought me into the same  condition of life as himself, he gave free vent to the desire with which he had long been laboring. He could not bear  leaving me even for a moment, and he persistently urged that we should each of us abandon our own home and  share a common dwelling :--in fact he persuaded me, and the affair was taken in hand.
    5. But the continual lamentations of my mother hindered me from granting him the favor, or rather from  receiving this boon at his hands. For when she perceived that I was meditating this step, she took me into her own  private chamber, and, sitting near me on the bed where she had given birth to me, she shed torrents of tears, to  which she added words yet more pitiable than her weeping, in the following lamentable strain: My child, it was not  the will of Heaven that I should long enjoy the benefit of thy father's virtue. For his death soon followed the pangs  which I endured at thy birth, leaving thee an orphan and me a widow before my time to face all the horrors of  widowhood, which only those who have experienced them can fairly understand. For no words are adequate to  describe the tempest-tossed condition of a young woman who, having but lately left her paternal home, and being  inexperienced in business, is suddenly racked by an overwhelming sorrow, and compelled to support a load of care  too great for her age and sex. For she has to correct the laziness of servants, and to be on the watch for their  rogueries, to repel the designs of relations, to bear bravely the threats of those who collect the public taxes,(1) and  harshness in the imposition of rates. And if the departed one should have left a child, even if it be a girl, great  anxiety will be caused to the mother, although free from much expense and fear: but a boy fills her with ten  thousand alarms and many anxieties every day, to say nothing of the great expense which one is compelled to incur  if she wishes to bring him up in a liberal way. None of these things, however, induced me to enter into a second  marriage, or introduce a second husband into thy father's house: but I held on as I was, in the midst of the storm  and uproar, and did not shun the iron furnace(2) of widowhood. My foremost help indeed was the grace from  above; but it was no small consolation to me under those I terrible trials to look continually on thy face and to  preserve in thee a living image of him who had gone, an image indeed which was a fairly exact likeness.
    On this account, even when thou wast an infant, and hadst not yet learned to speak, a time when children are  the greatest delight to their parents, thou didst afford me much comfort. Nor indeed can you complain that,  although I bore my widowhood bravely, I diminished thy patrimony, which I know has been the fate of many who  have had the misfortune to be orphans. For, besides keeping the whole of it intact, I spared no expense which was  needful to give you an honorable position, spending for this purpose some of my own fortune, and of my marriage  dowry. Yet do not think that I say these things by way of reproaching you; only in return for all these benefits I beg  one favor: do not plunge me into a second widowhood; nor revive the grief which is now laid to rest: wait for my  death: it may be in a little while I shall depart. The young indeed look forward to a distant old age; but we who  have grown old(3) have nothing but death to wait for. When, then, you shall have committed my body to the  ground, and mingled my bones with thy father's, embark for a long voyage, and set sail on any sea thou wilt: then  there will be no one to hinder thee: but as long as my life lasts, be content to live with me. Do not, I pray you,  oppose God in vain, involving me without cause, who have done you no wrong, in these great calamities. For if you  have any reason to complain that I drag you into worldly cares, and force you to attend to business, do not be  restrained by any reverence for the laws of nature, for training or custom, but fly from me as an enemy; but if, on  the contrary, I do everything to provide leisure for thy journey through this life, let this bond at least if nothing else  keep thee by me. For couldst thou say that ten thousand loved thee, yet no one will afford thee the enjoyment of so  much liberty, seeing there is no one who is equally anxious for thy welfare.
    6. These words, and more, my mother spake to me, and I related them to that noble youth. But he, so far from  being disheartened by these speeches, was the more urgent in making the same request as before. Now while we  were thus situated, he continually entreating, and I refusing my assent, we were both of us disturbed by a report  suddenly reaching us that we were about to be advanced to the dignity of

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the episcopate.(1) As soon as I heard this rumor I was seized with alarm and perplexity: with alarm lest I should be  made captive against my will, and perplexity, inquiring as I often did whence any such idea concerning us could  have entered the minds of these men; for looking to myself I found nothing worthy of such an honor. But that  noble youth having come to me privately, and having conferred with me about these things as if with one who was  ignorant of the rumor, begged that we might in this instance also as formerly shape our action and our counsels the  same way: for he would readily follow me whichever course I might pursue, whether I attempted flight or  submitted to be captured. Perceiving then his eagerness, and considering that I should inflict a loss upon the whole  body of the Church if, owing to my own weakness, I were to deprive the flock of Christ of a young man who was  so good and so well qualified for the supervision of large numbers, I abstained from disclosing to him the purpose  which I had formed, although I had never before allowed any of my plans to be concealed from him. I now told  him that it would be best to postpone our decision concerning this matter to another season, as it was not  immediately pressing, and by so doing persuaded him to dismiss it from his thoughts, and at the same time  encouraged him to hope that, if such a thing should ever happen to us, I should be of the same mind with him. But  after a short time, when one who was to ordain us arrived, I kept myself concealed, but Basil, ignorant of this, was  taken away on another pretext, and made to take the yoke, hoping from the promises which I had made to him  that I should certainly follows or rather supposing that he was following me. For some of those who were present,  seeing that he resented being seized, deceived him by exclaiming how strange it was that one who was generally  reputed to be the more hot tempered (meaning me), had yielded very mildly to the judgment of the Fathers,  whereas he, who was reckoned a much wiser and milder kind of man, had shown himself hotheaded and conceited,  being unruly, restive, and contradictory.(2) Having yielded to these remonstrances, and afterwards having learned  that I had escaped capture, he came to me in deep dejection, sat down near me and tried to speak, but was  hindered by distress of mind and inability to express in words the violence to which he had been subjected. No  sooner had he opened his mouth than he was prevented from utterance by grief cutting short his words before they  could pass his lips. Seeing, then, his tearful and agitated condition, and knowing as I did the cause, I laughed for  joy, and, seizing his right hand, I forced a kiss on him, and praised God that my plan had ended so successfully, as I  had always prayed it might. But when he saw that I was delighted and beaming with joy, and understood that he  had been deceived by me, he was yet more vexed and distressed.
    7. And when he had a little recovered from this agitation of mind, he began: If you have rejected the part allotted  to you, and have no further regard for me (I know not indeed for what cause), you ought at least to consider your  own reputation; but as it is you have opened the mouths of all, and the world is saying that you have declined this  ministry through love of vainglory, and there is no one who will deliver you from this accusation. As for me, I  cannot bear to go into the market place; there are so many who come up to me and reproach me every day. For,  when they see me anywhere in the city, all my intimate friends take me aside, and cast the greater part of the  blame upon me. Knowing his intention, they say, for none of his affairs could be kept secret from you, you should  not have concealed it, but ought to have communicated it to us, and we should have been at no loss to devise some  plan for capturing him. But I am too much ashamed and abashed to tell them that I did not know you had long  been plotting this trick, lest they should say that our friendship was a mere pretence. For even if it is so, as indeed  it is--nor would you yourself deny it after what you have done to me--yet it is well to hide our misfortune from the  outside world, and persons who entertain but a moderate opinion of us. I shrink from telling them the truth, and  how things really stand with us, and I am compelled in future to keep silence, and look down on the ground, and  turn away to avoid those whom I meet. For if I escape the condemnation on the former charge, I am forced to  undergo judgment for speaking falsehood. For they will never believe me when I say that you ranged Basil  amongst those who are not permitted to know your secret affairs. Of this, however, I will not take much account,  since it has seemed agreeable to you, but how shall we endure the future disgrace? for some accuse you of  arrogance, others of vainglory: while those

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who are our more merciful accusers, lay both these offences to our charge, and add that we have insulted those who  did us honor, although had they experienced even greater indignity it would only have served them right for passing  over so many and such distinguished men and advancing mere youths,(1) who were but yesterday immersed in the  interests of this world, to such a dignity as they never have dreamed of obtaining, in order that they may for a brief  season knit the eyebrows, wear dusky garments, and put on a grave face. Those who from the dawn of manhood  to extreme old age have diligently practised self-discipline, are now to be placed under the government of youths  who have not even heard the laws which should regulate their administration of this office. I am perpetually  assailed by persons who say such things and worse, and am at a loss how to reply to them; but I pray you tell me:  for I do not suppose that you took to flight and incurred such hatred from such distinguished men without cause or  consideration, but that your decision was made with reasoning and circumspection: whence also I conjecture that  you have some argument ready for your defence. Tell me, then, whether there is any fair excuse which I can make  to those who accuse us.
    For I do not demand any account for the wrongs which I have sustained at your hands, nor for the deceit or  treachery you have practised, nor for the advantage which you have derived from me in the past. For I placed my  very life, so to say, in your hands, yet you have treated me with as much guile as if it had been your business to  guard yourself against an enemy. Yet if you knew this decision of ours to be profitable, you ought not to have  avoided the gain: if on the contrary injurious, you should have saved me also from the loss, as you always said that  you esteemed me before every one else. But you have done everything to make me fall into the snare: and you had  no need of guile and hypocrisy in dealing with one who was wont to display the utmost sincerity and candor in  speech and action towards thee. Nevertheless, as I said, I do not now accuse you of any of these things, or reproach  you for the lonely position in which you have placed me by breaking off those conferences from which we often  derived no small pleasure and profit; but all these things I pass by, and bear in silence and meekness, not that thou  hast acted meekly in transgressing against me, but because from the day that I cherished thy friendship I laid it  down as a rule for myself, that whatever sorrow you might cause me I would never force you to the necessity of an  apology. For you know yourself that you have inflicted no small loss on me if at least you remember what we were  always saying ourselves, and the outside world also said concerning us, that it was a great gain for us to be of one  mind and be guarded by each other's friendship. Every one said, indeed, that our concord would bring no small  advantage to many besides ourselves; I never perceived, however, so far as I am concerned, how it could be of  advantage to others: but I did say that we should at least derive this benefit from it: that those who wished to  contend with us would find us difficult to master. And I never ceased reminding you of these things: saying the age  is a cruel one, and designing men are many, genuine love is no more, and the deadly pest of envy has crept into its  place: we walk in the midst of snares, and on the edge of battlements;(2) those who are ready to rejoice in our  misfortunes, if any should befall us, are many and beset us from many quarters: whereas there is no one to  condole with us, or at least the number of such may be easily counted. Beware that we do not by separation incur  much ridicule, and damage worse than ridicule. Brother aided by brother is like a strong city, and well fortified  kingdom.(3) Do not dissolve this genuine intimacy, nor break down the fortress. Such things and more I was  continually saying, not indeed that I ever suspected anything of this kind, but supposing you to be entirely sound in  your relation towards me, I did it as a superfluous precaution, wishing to preserve in health one who was already  sound; but unwittingly, as it seems, I was administering medicines to a sick man: and even so I have not been  fortunate enough to do any good, and have gained nothing by my excess of forethought. For having totally cast  away all these considerations, without giving them a thought, you have turned me adrift like an unballasted vessel  on an untried ocean, taking no heed of those fierce billows which I must encounter. For if it should ever be my lot  to undergo calumny, or mockery, or any other kind of insult or menace (and such things must frequently occur), to  whom shall I fly for refuge: to whom shall I impart my distress, who will be willing to succour me and drive back  my assailants and put a stop to their assaults? who

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will solace me and prepare me to bear the coarse ribaldry which may yet be in store for me. There is no one since  you stand aloof from this terrible strife, and cannot even hear my cry. Seest thou then what mischief thou hast  wrought? now that thou hast dealt the blow, dost thou perceive what a deadly wound thou hast inflicted? But let all  this pass: for it is impossible to undo the past, or to find a path through pathless difficulties. What shall I say to the  outside world? what defence shall I make to their accusations.
    8. CHRYSOSTOM: Be of good cheer, I replied, for I am not only ready to answer for myself in these matters,  but I will also endeavor as well as I am able to render an account of those for which you have not held me  answerable. Indeed, if you wish it, I will make them the starting-point of my defence. For it would be a strange  piece of stupidity on my part if, thinking only of praise from the outside public, and doing my best to silence their  accusations, I were unable to convince my dearest of all friends that I am not wronging him, and were to treat him  with indifference greater than the zeal which he has displayed on my behalf, treating me with such forbearance as  even to refrain from accusing me of the wrongs which he says he has suffered from me, and putting his own  interests out of the question in consideration for mine.
    What is the wrong that I have done thee, since I have determined to embark from this point upon the sea of  apology? Is it that I misled you and concealed my purpose? Yet I did it for the benefit of thyself who wast deceived,  and of those to whom I surrendered you by means of this deceit. For if the evil of deception is absolute, and it is  never right to make use of it, I am prepared to pay any penalty you please: or rather, as you will never endure to  inflict punishment upon me, I shall subject myself to the same condemnation which is pronounced by judges on  evil-doers when their accusers have convicted them. But if the thing is not always harmful, but becomes good or  bad according to the intention of those who practise it, you must desist from complaining of deceit, and prove that  it has been devised against you for a bad purpose; and as long as this proof is wanting it would only be fair for  those who wish to conduct themselves prudently, not only to abstain from reproaches and accusation, but even to  give a friendly reception to the deceiver. For a well-timed deception, undertaken with an upright intention, has  such advantages, that many persons have often had to undergo punishment for abstaining from fraud. And if you  investigate the history of generals who have enjoyed the highest reputation from the earliest ages, you will find that  most of their triumphs were achieved by stratagem, and that such are more highly commended than those who  conquer in open fight. For the latter conduct their campaigns with greater expenditure of money and men, so that  they gain nothing by the victory, but suffer just as much distress as those who have been defeated, both in the  sacrifice of troops and the exhaustion of funds. But, besides this, they are not even permitted to enjoy all the glory  which pertains to the victory; for no small part of it is reaped by those who have fallen, because in spirit they were  victorious, their defeat was only a bodily one: so that had it been possible for them not to fall when they were  wounded, and death had not come and put the finishing stroke to their labors, there would have been no end of  their prowess. But one who has been able to gain the victory by stratagem involves the enemy in ridicule as well as  disaster. Again, in the other case both sides equally carry off the honors bestowed upon valor, whereas in this case  they do not equally obtain those which are bestowed on wisdom, but the prize falls entirely to the victors, and,  another point no less important is that they preserve the joy of the victory for the state unalloyed; for abundance of  resources and multitudes of men are not like mental powers: the former indeed if continually used in war  necessarily become exhausted, and fail those who possess them, whereas it is the nature of wisdom to increase the  more it is exercised. And not in war only, but also in peace the need of deceit may be found, not merely in  reference to the affairs of the state, but also in private life, in the dealings of husband with wife and wife with  husband, son with father, friend with friend, and also children with a parent. For the daughter of Saul would not  have been able to rescue her husband out of Saul's hands' except by deceiving her father. And her brother, wish-bag  to save him whom she had rescued when he was again in danger, made use of the same weapon as the wife?
    BASIL: But none of these cases apply to me: for I am not an enemy, nor one of those who are striving to injure  thee, but quite the contrary. For I entrusted all my interests to your judgment, and always followed it whenever  you bid me.
    CHRYSOSTOM: But, my admirable and excellent Sir, this is the very reason why I took the precaution of  saying that it was a good thing to employ this kind of deceit, not only in war, and in dealing with enemies, but also

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in peace, and in dealing with our dearest friends. For as a proof that it is beneficial not only to the deceivers, but  also to those who are deceived; if you go to any of the physicians and ask them how they relieve their patients from  disease, they will tell you that they do not depend upon their professional skill alone, but sometimes conduct the  sick to health by availing themselves of deceit, and blending the assistance which they derive from it with their art.  For when the waywardness of the patient and the obstinacy of the complaint baffle the counsels of the physicians,  it is then necessary to put on the mask of deceit in order that, as on the stage, they may be able to hide what really  takes place. But, if you please, I will relate to you one instance of stratagem out of many which I have heard of  being contrived by the sons of the healing art.(1) A man was once suddenly attacked by a fever of great severity; the  burning heat increased, and the patient rejected the remedies which could have reduced it and craved for a draught  of pure wine, passionately entreating all who approached to give it him and enable him to satiate this deadly  craving--I say deadly, for if any one had gratified this request he would not only have exasperated the fever, but  also have driven the unhappy man frantic. Thereupon, professional skill being baffled, and at the end of its  resources and utterly thrown away, stratagem stepped in and displayed its power in the way which I will now  relate. For the physician took an earthen cup brought straight out of the furnace, and having steeped it in wine,  then drew it out empty, filled it with water, and, having ordered the chamber where the sick man lay to be  darkened with curtains that the light might not reveal the trick, he gave it him to drink, pretending that it was filled  with undiluted wine. And the man, before he had taken it in his hands, being deceived by the smell, did not wait to  examine what was given him, but convinced by the odor, and deceived by the darkness, eagerly gulped down the  draught, and being satiated with it immediately shook off the feeling of suffocation and escaped the imminent  peril.(2) Do you see the advantage of deceit? And if any one were to reckon up all the tricks of physicians the list  would run on to an indefinite length. And not only those who heal the body but those also who attend [to the  diseases of the soul may be found continually making use of this remedy. Thus the blessed Paul attracted those  multitudes of Jews:(3) with this purpose he circumcised Timothy,(4) although he warned the Galatians in his  letter(5) that Christ would not profit those who were circumcised. For this cause he submitted to the law, although  he reckoned the righteousness which came from the law but loss after receiving the faith in Christ.(6) For great is  the value of deceit, provided it be not introduced with a mischievous intention. In fact action of this kind ought not  to be called deceit, but rather a kind of good management, cleverness and skill, capable of finding out ways where  resources fail, and making up for the defects of the mind. For I would not call Phinees a murderer, although he  slew two human beings with one stroke:(7) nor yet Elias after the slaughter of the 100 soldiers, and the captain,(8)  and the torrents of blood which he caused to be shed by the destruction of those who sacrificed to devils.(9) For if  we were to concede this, and to examine the bare deeds in themselves apart from the intention of the doers, one  might if he pleased judge Abraham guilty of child-murder(10) and accuse his grandson(11) and descendant(12) of  wickedness and guile. For the one got possession of the birthright, and the other transferred the wealth of the  Egyptians to the host of the Israelites. But this is not the case: away with the audacious thought! For we not only  acquit them of blame, but also admire them because of these things, since even God commended them for the  same. For that man would fairly deserve to be called a deceiver who made an unrighteous use of the practice, not  one who did so with a salutary purpose. And often it is necessary to deceive, and to do the greatest benefits by  means of this device, whereas he who has gone by a straight course has done great mischief to the person whom he  has not deceived.
    1. THAT it is possible then to make use of deceit for a good purpose, or rather that in such a case it ought not to  be called deceit, but a kind of good management worthy of all admiration, might be proved at greater length; but  since what has already been said suffices for demonstration, it would be irksome and tedious to lengthen out my  discourse upon the subject. And now it will remain for you to pave whether I have not employed this art to your  advantage.
    BASIL: And what kind of advantage have I derived from this piece of good management, or wise policy, or  whatever you may please to call it, so as to persuade me that I have not been deceived by you?
    CHRYSOSTOM: What advantage, pray, could be greater than to be seen doing those things which Christ with  his own lips declared to be proofs of love to Himself?(1) For addressing the leader of the apostles He said, "Peter,  lovest thou me?" and when he confessed that he did, the Lord added, "if thou lovest me tend my sheep." The  Master asked the disciple if He was loved by him, not in order' to get information (how should He who penetrates  the hearts of all men?), but in order to teach us how great an interest He takes in the superintendence of these  sheep. This being plain, it will likewise be manifest that a great and unspeakable reward will be reserved for him  whose labors are concerned with these sheep, upon which Christ places such a high value. For when we see any one  bestowing care upon members of our household, or upon our flocks, we count his zeal for them as a sign of love  towards ourselves: yet all these things are to be bought for money :--with how great a gift then will He requite  those who tend the flock which He purchased, not with money, nor anything of that kind, but by His own death,  giving his own blood as the price of the herd. Wherefore when the disciple said, "Thou knowest Lord that I love  Thee," and invoked the beloved one Himself as a witness of his love, the Saviour did not stop there, but added that  which was the token of love. For He did not at that time wish to show how much Peter loved Him, but how much  He Himself loved His own Church, and he desired to teach Peter and all of us that we also should bestow much  zeal upon the same. For why did God not spare His only-begotten Son, but delivered Him up, although the only  one He had?(2) It was that He might reconcile to Himself those who were disposed towards Him as enemies, and  make them His peculiar people. For what purpose did He shed His blood? It was that He might win these sheep  which He entrusted to Peter and his successors. Naturally then did Christ say, "Who then is the faithful and wise  servant, whom his lord shall make ruler over His household."(3) Again, the

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words are those of one who is in doubt, yet the speaker did not utter them in doubt, but just as He asked Peter  whether he loved Him, not from any need to learn the affection of the disciple, but from a desire to show the  exceeding depth of his own love: so now also when He says, "Who then is the faithful and wise servant ?" he  speaks not as being ignorant who is faithful and wise, but as desiring to set forth the rarity of such a character, and  the greatness of this office. Observe at any rate how great the reward is--" He will appoint him," he says, "ruler  over all his goods."(1)
    2. Will you, then, still contend that you were not rightly deceived, when you are about to superintend the things  which belong to God, and are doing that which when Peter did the Lord said he should be able to surpass the rest  of the apostles, for His words were, "Peter, lovest thou me more than these?"(2) Yet He might have said to him, "If  thou lovest me practise fasting, sleeping on the ground, and prolonged vigils, defend the wronged, be as a father to  orphans, and supply the place of a husband to their mother." But as a matter of fact, setting aside all these things,  what does He say? "Tend my sheep." For those things which I have already mentioned might easily be performed  by many even of those who are under authority, women as well as men; but when one is required to preside over  the Church, and to be entrusted with the care of so many souls, the whole female sex must retire before the  magnitude of the task, and the majority of men also; and we must bring forward those who to a large extent  surpass all others, and soar as much above them in excellence of spirit as Saul overtopped the whole Hebrew  nation in bodily stature: or rather far more.(3) For in this case let me not take the height of shoulders as the  standard of inquiry; but let the distinction between the pastor and his charge be as great as that between rational  man and irrational creatures, not to say even greater, inasmuch as the risk is concerned with things of far greater  importance. He indeed who has lost sheep, either through the ravages of wolves, or the attacks of robbers, or  through murrain, or any other disaster befalling them, might perhaps obtain some indulgence from the owner of  the flock; and even if the latter should demand satisfaction the penalty would be only a matter of money: but he  who has human beings entrusted to him, the rational flock of Christ, incurs a penalty in the first place for the loss  of the sheep, which goes beyond material things and touches his own life: and in the second place he has to carry  on a far greater and more difficult contest. For he has not to contend with wolves, nor to dread robbers, nor to  consider how he may avert pestilence from the flock. With whom then has he to fight? with whom has he to  wrestle? Listen to the words of St. Paul.  "We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against  powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."(4) Do you see  the terrible multitude of enemies, and their fierce squadrons, not steel clad, but endued with a nature which is of  itself an equivalent for a complete suit of armor. Would you see yet another host, stern and cruel, beleaguering this  flock? This also you shall behold from the same post of observation. For he who has discoursed to us concerning  the others, points out these enemies also to us, speaking in a certain place on this wise: "The works of the flesh are  manifest, which are these, fornication, adultery, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance,  emulation, wrath, strife,(5) backbitings, whisperings, swellings, tumults,"(6) and many more besides; for he did not  make a complete list, but left us to understand the rest from these. Moreover, in the case of the shepherd of  irrational creatures, those who wish to destroy the flock, when they see the guardian take to flight, cease making  war upon him, and are contented with the seizure of the cattle: but in this case, even should they capture the whole  flock, they do not leave the shepherd unmolested, but attack him all the more, and wax bolder, ceasing not until  they have either overthrown him, or have themselves been vanquished. Again, the afflictions of sheep are manifest,  whether it be famine, or pestilence, or wounds, or whatsoever else it may be which distresses them, and this might  help not a little towards the relief of those who are oppressed in these ways. And there is yet another fact greater  than this which facilitates release from this kind of infirmity. And what is that? The shepherds with great authority  compel the sheep to receive the remedy when they do not willingly submit to it. For it is easy to bind them when  cautery or cutting is required, and to keep them inside the fold for a long time, whenever it is expedient, and to  bring them one kind of food instead of another, and to cut them off from their supplies of water, and all other  things which the shepherds may decide to be conducive to their health they perform with great ease.

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    3. But in the case of human infirmities, it is not easy in the first place for a man to discern them, for no man  "knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him."(1) How then can any one apply the remedy  for the disease of which he does not know the character, often indeed being unable to understand it even should he  happen to sicken with it himself? And even when it becomes manifest, it causes him yet more trouble: for it is not  possible to doctor all men with the same authority with which the shepherd treats his sheep. For in this case also it  is necessary to bind and to restrain from food, and to use cautery or the knife: but the reception of the treatment  depends on the will of the patient, not of him who applies the remedy. For this also was perceived by that  wonderful man (St. Paul) when he said to the Corinthians--"Not for that we have dominion over your faith, but  are helpers of your joy."(2) For Christians above all men are not permitted forcibly to correct the failings of those  who sin. Secular judges indeed, when they have captured malefactors under the law, show their authority to be  great, and prevent them even against their will from following their own devices: but in our case the wrong-doer  must be made better, not by force, but by persuasion. For neither has authority of this kind for the restraint of  sinners been given us by law, nor, if it had been given, should we have any field for the exercise of our power,  inasmuch as God rewards those who abstain from evil by their own choice, not of necessity. Consequently much  skill is required that our patients may be induced to submit willingly to the treatment prescribed by the physicians,  and not only this, but that they may be grateful also for the cure. For if any one when he is bound becomes restive  (which it is in his power to be), he makes the mischief worse; and if he should pay no heed to the  words which cut  like steel, he inflicts another wound by means of this contempt, and the intention to heal only becomes the  occasion of a worse disorder. For it is not possible for any one to cure a man by compulsion against his will.
    4. What then is one to do? For if you deal too gently with him who needs a severe application of the knife, and  do not strike deep into one who requires such treatment, you remove one Dart of the sore but leave the other: and  if on the other hand you make the requisite incision unsparingly, the patient,driven to desperation by his  sufferings, will often fling everything away at once, both the remedy and the bandage, and throw himself down  headlong, "breaking the yoke and bursting the band."(3) I could tell of many who have run into extreme evils  because the due penalty of their sins was exacted. For we ought not, in applying punishment, merely to proportion  it to the scale of the offence, but rather to keep in view the disposition of the sinner, lest whilst wishing to mend  what is torn, you make the rent worse, and in your zealous endeavors to restore what is fallen, you make the ruin  greater. For weak and careless characters, addicted for the most part to the pleasures of the world, and having  occasion to be proud on account of birth and position, may yet, if gently and gradually brought to repent of their  errors, be delivered, partially at least, if not perfectly, from the evils by which they are possessed: but if any one  were to inflict the discipline all at once, he would deprive them of this slight chance of amendment. For when once  the soul has been forced to put off shame it lapses into a callous condition, and neither yields to kindly words nor  bends to threats, nor is susceptible of gratitude, but becomes far worse than that city which the prophet reproached,  saying, "thou hadst the face of a harlot, refusing to be ashamed before all men."(4) Therefore the pastor has need  of much discretion, and of a myriad eyes to observe on every side the habit of the soul. For as many are uplifted to  pride, and then sink into despair of their salvation, from inability to endure severe remedies, so are there some,  who from paying  no penalty equivalent to their sins, fall into  negligence, and become far worse, and are  impelled  to greater sins. It behoves the priest therefore to leave none of these things unexamined, but, after a thorough  inquiry into all of them, to apply such remedies as he has appositely to each case, lest his zeal prove to be  in vain.  And not m this matter only, but also in the work of knitting together the severed members of the Church, one can  see that he has much to do. For the pastor of sheep has  his flock following him, wherever he may lead   them: and  if any should stray out of the straight path, and, deserting the good pasture, feed in unproductive or rugged place, a  loud shout suffices to collect them and bring back to the fold those who have been parted from it: but if a human  being wanders away from the right faith, great exertion, perseverance and patience tare required; for he cannot be  dragged back   by force, nor constrained by fear, but must be   led back by persuasion to the truth from which be  originally swerved. The pastor therefore ought to be of a noble spirit, so as not to despond, or to despair of the  salvation of wan-

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derers from the fold, but continually to reason with himself and say, "Peradventure God will give them repentance  to the acknowledging of the truth, and that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil."(1)  Therefore the Lord, when addressing His disciples, said, "Who then is the faithful and wise servant?"(2) For he  indeed who disciplines himself compasses only his own advantage, but the benefit of the pastoral function extends  to the whole people. And one who dispenses money to the needy, or otherwise succors the oppressed, benefits his  neighbors to some extent, but so much less than the priest in proportion as the body is inferior to the soul. Rightly  therefore did the Lord say that zeal for the flock was a token of love for Himself.
  BASIL: But thou thyself--dost thou not love Christ?
  Chrysostom: Yea, I love Him, and shall never cease loving Him; but I fear lest I should provoke Him whom I  love.
  BASIL: But what riddle can there be more obscure than this--Christ has commanded him who loves Him to tend  His sheep, and yet you say that you decline to tend them because you love Him who gave this command?
    Chrysostom: My saying is no riddle, but very intelligible and simple, for if I were well qualified to administer  this office, as Christ desired it, and then shunned it, my remark might be open to doubt, but since the infirmity of  my spirit renders me useless for this ministry, why does my saying deserve to be called in question? For I fear lest  if I took the flock in hand when it was in good condition and well nourished, and then wasted it through my  unskilfulness, I should provoke against myself the God who so loved the flock as to give Himself up for their  salvation and ransom.
    BASIL: You speak in jest: for if you were in earnest I know not how you would have proved me to be justly  grieved otherwise than by means of these very words whereby you have endeavored to dispel my dejection. I knew  indeed before that you had deceived and betrayed me, but much more now, when you have undertaken to clear  yourself of my accusations, do I plainly perceive and understand the extent of the evils into which you have led me.  For if you withdrew yourself from this ministry because you were conscious that your spirit was not equal to the  burden of the task, I ought to have been rescued from it before you, even if I had chanced to have a great desire for  it, to say nothing of having confided to you the entire decision of these matters: but as it is, you have looked solely  to your own interest and neglected mine. Would indeed you had entirely neglected them; then I should have been  well content: but you plotted to facilitate my capture by those who wished to seize me. For you cannot take shelter  in the argument that public opinion deceived you and induced you to imagine great and wonderful things  concerning me. For I was none of your wonderful and distinguished men, nor, had this been the case, ought you to  have preferred public opinion to truth. For if I had never permitted you to enjoy my society, you might have  seemed to have a reasonable pretext for being guided in your vote by public report; but if there is no one who has  such thorough knowledge of my affairs, if you are acquainted with my character better than my parents and those  who brought me up, what argument can you employ which will be convincing enough to persuade your hearers that  you did not purposely thrust me into this danger: say, what answer shall I make to your accusers?
    CHRYSOSTOM: Nay! I will not proceed to those questions until I have resolved such as concern yourself  alone, if you were to ask me ten thousand times to dispose of these charges. You said indeed that ignorance would  bring me forgiveness, and that I should have been free from all accusation if I had brought you into your present  position not knowing anything about you, but that as I did not betray you in ignorance, but was intimately  acquainted with your affairs, I was deprived of all reasonable pretext and excuse. But I say precisely the reverse: for  in such matters there is need of careful scrutiny, and he who is going to present any one as qualified for the  priesthood ought not to be content with public report only, but should also himself, above all and before all,  investigate the man's character. For when the blessed Paul says, "He must also have a good report of them which  are without,"(3) he does not dispense with an exact and rigorous inquiry, nor does he assign to such testimony  precedence over the scrutiny required in such cases. For after much previous discourse, he mentioned this  additional testimony, proving that one must not be contented with it alone for elections of this kind, but take it  into consideration along with the rest. For public report often speaks false; but when careful investigation  precedes, no further danger need be apprehended from it. On this account, after the other kinds of evidence he  places that which comes from those who are without. For he did not simply say, "he must have a good report," but  added the

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words, "from them which are without," wishing to show that before the report of those without he must be  carefully examined. Inasmuch, then, as I myself knew your affairs better than your parents, as you also yourself  acknowledged, I might deserve to be released from all blame.
    BASIL: Nay this is the very reason why you could not escape, if any one chose to indite you. Do you not  remember hearing from me, and often learning from my actual conduct, the feebleness of my character? Were you  not perpetually taunting me for my pusillanimity, because I was so easily dejected by ordinary cares?
    5. CHRYSOSTOM: I do indeed remember often hearing such things said by you; I would not deny it. But if I  ever taunted you, I did it in sport and not in serious truth. However, I do not now dispute about these matters,  and I claim the same degree of forbearance from you while I wish to make mention of some of the good qualities  which you possess. For if you attempt to convict me of saying what is untrue, I shall not spare you, but shall drove  that you say these things rather by way of self--depreciation than with a view to truth, and I will employ no  evidence but your own words and deeds to demonstrate the truth of my assertion. And now the first question I  wish to ask of you is this: do you know how great the power of love is? For omitting all the miracles which were to  be wrought by the apostles, Christ said, "Hereby shall men know that ye are my disciples if ye love one  another,"(1) and Paul said that it was the fulfilling of the law,(2) and that in default of it no spiritual gift had any  profit. Well, this choice good, the distinguishing mark of Christ's disciples, the gift which is higher than all other  gifts, I perceived to be deeply implanted in your soul, and teeming with much fruit.
    BASIL: I acknowledge indeed that the matter is one of deep concern to me, and that I endeavor most earnestly  to keep this commandment, but that I have not even half  succeeded in so doing, even you yourself would bear me  witness if you would leave off talking out of partiality, and simply respect  the truth.
    6. CHRYSOSTOM: Well, then, I shall betake myself to my evidences, and shall now do what I threatened,  proving that you wish to disparage yourself rather than to speak the truth. But I will mention a fact which has only  just occurred, that no one may suspect me of attempting to obscure the truth by the great lapse of time in relating  events long past, as oblivion would then prevent any objection being made to the things which I might say with a  view to gratification.(3) For when one of our intimate friends, having been falsely accused of insult and folly, was  in extreme peril, you then flung yourself into the midst of the danger, although you were not summoned by any  one, or appealed to by the person who was about to be involved in danger. Such was the fact: but that I may convict  you out of your own mouth, I will remind you of the words you uttered: for when some did not approve of this  zeal, while others commended and admired it, "How can I help myself?" you said to those who accused you, "for I  do not know how otherwise to love than by giving up my life when it is necessary to save any of my friends who is  in danger:" thus repeating, in different words, indeed, but with the same meaning, what Christ said to his disciples  when he laid down the definition of perfect love. "Greater love," He said, "hath no man than this that a man lay  down his life for his friends." If then it is impossible to find greater love than this, you have attained its limit, and  both by your deeds and words have crowned the summit. This is why I betrayed you, this is why I contrived that  plot. Do I now convince you that it was not from any malicious intent, nor from any desire to thrust you into  danger, but from a persuasion of your future usefulness that I dragged you into this course?
    BASIL: Do you then suppose that love is sufficient for the correction of one's fellowmen?
    CHRYSOSTOM: Certainly it would contribute in a great measure to this end. But if you wish me to produce  evidence of your practical wisdom also, I will proceed to, do so, and will prove that your understanding exceeds  your loving-kindness.
    At these remarks he blushed scarlet and said, "Let my character be now dismissed: for it was not about this that  I originally demanded an explanation; but if you have any just answer to make to those who are without, I would  gladly hear what you have to say. Wherefore, abandoning this vain contest, tell me what defence I shall make, both  to those who have honored you and to those who are distressed on their account, considering them to be insulted.
    7. CHRYSOSTOM: This is just the point to which I am finally hastening, for as my ex-

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planation to you has been completed I shall easily turn to this part of my defence. What then is the accusation  made by these persons, and what are their charges? They say that they have been insulted and grievously wronged  by me because I have not accepted the honor which they wished to confer upon me. Now in the first place I say  that no account should be taken of the insult shown to men, seeing that by paying honor to them I should be  compelled to offend God. And I should say to those who are displeased that it is not safe to take offence at these  things, but does them much harm. For I think that those who stay themselves on God and look to Him alone,  ought to be so religiously disposed as not to account such a thing an insult, even if they happened to be a thousand  times dishonored. But that I have not gone so far as even to think of daring anything of this kind is manifest from  what I am about to say. For if indeed I had been induced by arrogance and vainglory, as you have often said some   slanderously affirm, to assent to my accusers, I should have been one of the most iniquitous: of mankind, having  treated great and excellent men, my benefactors moreover, with contempt. For if men ought to be punished for  wronging those who have never wronged them, how ought we to honor those who have spontaneously preferred to  honor us? For no one could possibly say that they were requiting me for any benefits small or great which they had  received at my hands. How great a punishment then would one deserve if one requited them in the contrary  manner. But if such a thing never entered my mind, and I declined the heavy burden with quite a different  intention, why do they refuse to pardon me (even if they do not consent to approve), but accuse me of having  selfishly spared my own soul? For so far from having insulted the men in question I should say that I had even  honored them by my refusal.
    And do not be surprised at the paradoxical nature of my remark, for I shall supply a speedy solution of it.
    8. For had I accepted the office, I do not say all men, but those who take pleasure in speaking evil, might have  suspected and said many things concerning myself who had been elected and concerning them, the electors: for  instance, that they regarded wealth, and admired splendor of rank; or had been induced by flattery to promote me  to this honor: indeed I cannot say whether some one might not have suspected that they were bribed by money.  Moreover, they would have said, "Christ called fishermen, tentmakers, and publicans to this dignity,whereas these  men reject those who support themselves by daily labor: but if there be any one who devotes himself to secular  learning, and is brought up in idleness, him they receive and admire. For why, pray, have they passed by men who  have undergone innumerable toils in the service of the Church, and suddenly dragged into this dignity one who has  never experienced any labors of this kind, but has spent all his youth in the vain study of secular learning." These  things and more they might have said had I accepted the office: but not so now. For every pretext for maligning is  now cut away from them, and they can neither accuse me of flattery, nor the others of receiving bribes, unless  some choose to act like mere madmen. For how could one who used flattery and expended money in order to  obtain the dignity, have abandoned it to others when he might have obtained it? For this would be just as if a man  who had bestowed much labor upon the ground in order that the corn field might be laden with abundant produce,  and the presses overflow with wine, after innumerable toils and great expenditure of money were to surrender the  fruits to others just when it was time to reap his corn and gather in his vintage. Do you see that although what was  said might be far from the truth, nevertheless those who wished to calumniate the electors would then have had a  pretext for alleging that the choice was made without fair judgment and consideration. But as it is I have prevented  them from being open mouthed, or even uttering a single word on the subject. Such then and more would have  been their remarks at the outset. But after undertaking the ministry I should not have been able day by day to  defend myself against accusers, even if I had done everything faultlessly, to say nothing of the many mistakes  which I must have made owing to my youth and inexperience. But now I have saved the electors from this kind of  accusation also, whereas in the other case I should have involved them in innumerable reproaches. For what would  not the world have said? "They have committed affairs of such vast interest and importance to thoughtless youths,  they have defiled the flock of God, and Christian affairs have become a jest and a laughingstock." But now "all  iniquity shall stop her mouth."(1) For although they may say these things on your account, you will speedily teach  them by your acts that understanding is not to be estimated by age, and the grey head is not to be the test of an  elder--that the young man ought not to be absolutely excluded from the ministry, but only the novice: and the  difference between the two is great.
   1. CHRYSOSTOM: As regards the insult to those who have done me honor, what I have already said might be  sufficient to prove that in avoiding this office I had no desire to put them to shame; but I will now endeavor to  make it evident, to the best of my ability, that I was not puffed up by arrogance of any kind. For if the choice of a   generalship or a kingdom had been submitted to me, and I had then formed this resolution, any one might  naturally have suspected me of this fault, or rather I should have been found guilty by all men, not of arrogance,  but of senseless folly. But when the priesthood is offered to me, which exceeds a kingdom as much as the spirit  differs from the flesh, will any one dare to accuse me of disdain? And is it not preposterous to charge with folly  those who reject small things, but when any do this in matters of preeminent importance, to exempt such persons  from accusations of mental derangement, and yet subject them to the charge of pride? It is just as if one were to  accuse, not of pride, but of insanity, a man who looked with contempt on a herd of oxen and refused to be a  herdsman, and yet were to say that a man who declined the empire of the world, and the command of all the  armies of the earth, was not mad, but inflated with pride. But this assuredly is not the case; and they who say such  things do not injure me more than they injure themselves. For merely to imagine it possible for human nature to  despise this dignity is an evidence against those who bring this charge of the estimate which they have formed of  the office. For if they did not consider it to be an ordinary thing of no great account, such a suspicion as this would  never have entered their heads. For why is it that no one has ever dared to entertain such a suspicion with  reference to the dignity of the angels, and to say that arrogance is the reason why human nature would not aspire  to the rank of the angelic nature? It is because we imagine great things concerning those powers, and this does not  suffer us to believe that a man can conceive anything greater than that honor. Wherefore one might with more  justice indite those persons of arrogance who accuse me of it. For they would never have suspected this of others if  they had not previously depreciated the matter as being of no account. But if they say that I have done this with a  view to glory, they will be convicted of fighting openly against themselves and falling into their own snare; for I do  not know

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what kind of arguments they could have sought in preference to these if they had wished to release me from the  charge of vainglory.
    2. For if this desire had ever entered my mind, I ought to have accepted the office rather than avoided it. Why?  because it would have brought me much glory. For the fact that one of my age, who had so recently abandoned  secular pursuits, should suddenly be deemed by all worthy of such admiration as to be advanced to honor before  those who have spent all their life in labors of this kind, and to obtain more votes than all of them, might have  persuaded all men to anticipate great and marvellous things of me. But, as it is, the greater part of the Church does  not know me even by name: so that even my refusal of the office will not be manifest to all, but only to a few, and  I am not sure that all even of these know it for certain; but probably many of them either imagine that I was not  elected at all, or that I was rejected after the election, being considered unsuitable, not that I avoided the office of  my own accord.
    3. BASIL: But those who do know the truth will be surprised.
    CHRYSOSTOM: And lo! these are they who, according to you, falsely accuse me of vainglory: and pride.  Whence then am I to hope for praise? From the many? They do not know the actual fact. From the few? Here  again the matter is perverted to my disadvantage. For the only reason why you have come here now is to learn  what answer ought to be given to them And what shall I now certainly say on account of these things? For wait a  little, and you will clearly perceive that even if all know the truth they ought not to condemn me for pride and love  of glory. And in addition to this there is another consideration: that not only those who make this venture, if there  be any such (which for my part I do not believe), but also those who suspect it of others, will be involved in no  small danger.
    4. For the priestly office is indeed discharged   on earth, but it ranks amongst heavenly ordinances; and very  naturally so: for neither  man, nor angel, nor archangel, nor any other created power, but the Paraclete Himself,  instituted this vocation, and persuaded men while still abiding in the flesh to represent the ministry of angels.  Wherefore the consecrated priest ought to be as pure as if he were standing in the heavens themselves in the midst  of those powers. Fearful, indeed, and of most awful import, were the things which were used before the  dispensation of grace, as the bells, the pomegranates, the stones on the breastplate and on the ephod, the girdle,  the mitre, the long robe, the plate of gold, the holy of holies, the deep silence within.(1) But if any one should  examine the things which belong to the dispensation of grace, he will find that, small as  they are, yet are they  fearful and full of awe, and that what was spoken concerning the law is true in this case also, that "what has been  made glorious hath no glory in this respect by reason of the glory which excelleth."(2) For when thou seest the Lord  sacrificed, and laid upon the altar,(2) and the priest standing and praying over the victim, and all the worshippers  empurpled with that precious blood,(4) canst thou then think that thou art still amongst men, and standing upon  the earth? Art thou not, on the contrary, straightway translated to Heaven, and casting out every carnal thought  from the soul, dost thou not with disembodied spirit and pure reason contemplate the things which are in Heaven?  Oh! what a marvel! what love of God to man! He who sitteth on high with the Father is at that hour held in the  hands of all,(5) and gives Himself to those who are willing to embrace and grasp Him. And this all do through

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the eyes of faith!(1) Do these things seem to you fit to be despised, or such as to make it possible for any one to be  uplifted against them?
    Would you also learn from another miracle the exceeding sanctity of this office? Picture Elijah and the vast  multitude standing around him, and the sacrifice laid upon the altar of stones, and all the rest of the people hushed  into a deep silence while the prophet alone offers up prayer: then the sudden rush of fire from Heaven upon the  sacrifice:--these are marvellous things, charged with terror. Now then pass from this scene to the rites which are  celebrated in the present day; they are not only marvellous to behold, but transcendent in terror. There stands the  priest, not bringing down fire from Heaven, but the Holy Spirit: and he makes prolonged supplication,(2) not that  some flame sent down from on high  may consume the offerings, but that grace descending on the sacrifice may  thereby enlighten the souls of all, and render them more refulgent than silver purified by fire. Who can despise this  most awful mystery, unless he is stark mad and senseless? Or do you not know that no human soul could have  endured that fire in the sacrifice, but all would have been utterly consumed, had not the assistance of God's grace  been great.
    5. For if any one will consider how great a thing it is for one, being a man, and compassed with flesh and blood,  to be enabled to draw nigh to that blessed and pure nature, he will then clearly see what great honor the grace of  the Spirit has vouchsafed to priests; since by their agency these rites are celebrated, and others nowise inferior to  these both in respect of our dignity and our salvation. For they who inhabit the earth and make their abode there  are entrusted with the administration of things which are in Heaven, and have received an authority which God has  not given to angels or archangels. For it has not been said to them, "Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be  bound in Heaven, and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven."(3) They who rule on earth  have indeed authority to bind, but only the body: whereas this binding lays hold of the soul and penetrates the  heavens; and what priests do here below God ratifies above, and the Master confirms the sentence of his servants.  For indeed what is it but all manner of heavenly authority which He has given them when He says, "Whose sins ye  remit they are remitted, and whose sins ye retain they are retained?"(4) What authority could be greater than this?  "The Father hath committed all judgment to the Son?"(5) But I see it all put into the hands of these men by the  Son. For they have been conducted to this dignity as if they were already translated to Heaven, and had  transcended human nature, and were released from the passions to which we are liable. Moreover, if a king should  bestow this honor upon any of his subjects, authorizing him to cast into prison whom he pleased and to release  them again, he becomes an object of envy and respect to all men; but he who has received from God an authority  as much greater as heaven is more precious than earth, and souls more precious than bodies, seems to some to  have received so small an honor that they are actually able to imagine that one of those who have been entrusted  with these things will despise the gift. Away with such madness! For transparent madness it is to despise so great a  dignity, without which it is not possible to obtain either our own salvation, or the good things which have been  promised to us. For if no one can enter into the kingdom of Heaven except he be regenerate through water and  the Spirit, and he who does not eat the flesh of the Lord and drink His blood is excluded from eternal life, and if all  these things are accomplished only by means of those holy hands, I mean the hands of the priest, how will any one,  without these, be able to escape the fire of hell, or to win those crowns which are reserved for the victorious?
    6. These verily are they who are entrusted with the pangs of spiritual travail and the birth which comes through  baptism: by their means we put on Christ, and are buried with the Son of God, and become members of that    blessed Head. Wherefore they might not   only be more justly feared by us than rulers  and kings, but also be more  honored than parents; since these begat us of blood and the will of the flesh, but the others are the authors of our  birth from God, even that blessed regeneration which is the true freedom and the sonship according to grace. The  Jewish priests had authority to release the body from leprosy, or, rather, not to release it but only to examine those  who were already released, and you know how much the office of priest

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was contended for at that time. But our priests have received authority to deal, not with bodily leprosy, but spiritual  uncleanness--not to pronounce it removed after examination, but actually and absolutely to take it away.  Wherefore they who despise these priests would be far more accursed than Dathan and his company, and deserve  more severe punishment. For the latter, although they laid claim to the dignity which did not belong to them,  nevertheless had an excellent opinion concerning it, and this they evinced by the great eagerness with which they  pursued it; but these men, when the office has been better regulated, and has received so great a development, have  displayed an audacity which exceeds that of the others, although manifested in a contrary way. For there is not an  equal amount of contempt involved in aiming at an honor which does not pertain to one, and in despising such  great advantages, but the latter exceeds the former as much as scorn differs from admiration. What soul then is so  sordid as to despise such great advantages? None whatever, I should say, unless it were one subject to some  demoniacal impulse. For I return once more to the point from which I started: not in the way of chastising only,  but also in the way of benefiting, God has bestowed a power on priests greater than that of our natural parents.  The two indeed differ as much as the present and the future life. For our natural parents generate us unto this life  only, but the others unto that which is to come. And the former would not be able to avert  death from their  offspring, or to repel the assaults of disease; but these others have often saved a sick soul, or one which was on the  point of perishing, procuring for some a milder chastisement, and preventing others from falling altogether, not  only by instruction and admonition, but also by the assistance wrought through prayers. For not only at the time of  regeneration, but afterwards also, they have authority to forgive sins. "Is any sick among   you?" it is said, "let him  call for the elders   of the Church and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the  Lord. And  the prayer of faith shall save the   sick, and the Lord will raise him up: and if   he have committed sins they shall be  forgiven  him."(1) Again: our natural parents, should  their children come into conflict with any men   of high rank  and great power in the world, are   unable to profit them: but priests have reconciled, not rulers and kings, but  God Himself  when His wrath has often been provoked  against them. Well! after this will any one venture to  condemn me for arrogance? For my part, after what has been said, I imagine such religious fear will possess the  souls of the hearers that they will no longer condemn those who avoid the office for arrogance and temerity, but  rather those who voluntarily come forward and are eager to obtain this dignity for themselves. For if they who have  been entrusted with the command of cities, should they chance to be wanting in discretion and vigilance, have  sometimes destroyed the cities and ruined themselves in addition, how much power think you both in himself and  from above must he need, to avoid sinning, whose business it is to beautify the Bride of Christ?
    7. No man loved Christ more than Paul: no man exhibited greater zeal, no man was counted worthy of more  grace: nevertheless, after all these great advantages, he still has fears and tremblings concerning this government  and those who were governed by him. "I fear," he says, "lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his  subtlety, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity which is in Christ."(2) And again, "I was with you  in fear and in much trembling;"(3) and this was a man who had been caught up to the third Heaven, and made  partaker of the unspeakable mysteries of God,(4) and had endured as many deaths as he had lived days after he  became a believer--a man, moreover, who would not use the authority given him from Christ lest any of his  converts should be offended.(5) If, then, he who went beyond the ordinances of God, and nowhere sought his own  advantage, but that of those whom he governed, was always so full of fear when he considered the greatness of his  government, what shall our condition be who in many ways seek our own, who not only fail to go beyond the  commandments of Christ, but for the most part transgress them? "Who is weak," he says, "and I am not weak?  who is offended and I burn not?"(6) Such an one ought the priest to be, or, rather, not such only: for  these are  small things, and as nothing compared with what I am about to say. And what is this? "I could wish," he says, "that  myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh."(7) If any one can utter  such a speech, if any one has the soul which attains to such a prayer, he might justly be blamed if he took to flight:  but if any one should lack such excellence as much as I do, he would deserve to be hated, not if he avoided the  office, but if he accepted

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it. For if an election to a military dignity was the business in hand, and they who had the right of conferring the  honor were to drag forward a brazier, or a shoemaker, or some such artisan, and entrust the army to his hands, I  should not praise the wretched man if he did not take to flight, and do all in his power to avoid plunging into such  manifest trouble. If, indeed, it be sufficient to bear the name of pastor, and to take the work in hand hap-hazard,  and there be no danger in this, then let whoso pleases accuse me of vainglory; but if it behoves one who undertakes  this care to have much understanding, and, before understanding, great grace from God, and uprightness of  conduct, and purity of life and superhuman virtue, do not deprive me of forgiveness if I am unwilling to perish in  vain without a cause.
    Moreover, if any one in charge of a full-sized merchant ship, full of rowers, and laden with a costly freight, were  to station me at the helm and bid me cross the AEgean or the Tyrrhene sea, I should recoil from the proposal at  once: and if any one asked me why? I should say, "Lest I should sink the ship." Well, where the loss concerns  material wealth, and the danger extends only to bodily death, no one will blame those who exercise great prudence;  but where the shipwrecked are destined to fall, not into the ocean, but into the abyss  of fire, and the death which  awaits them is not   that which severs the soul from the body, but   one which together with this dismisses it to    eternal punishment, shall I incur your wrath and hate because I did not plunge headlong into so great an evil?
    8. Do not thus, I pray and beseech you. I know my own soul, how feeble and puny it is:   I know the magnitude  of this ministry, and  the great difficulty of the work; for more stormy billows vex the soul of the priest than the  gales which disturb the sea.
    9. And first of all is that most terrible rock of vainglory, more dangerous than that of the Sirens, of which the  fable-mongers tell such marvellous tales: for many were able to sail past that and escape unscathed; but this is to  me so dangerous that even now, when no necessity of any kind impels me into that abyss, I am unable to keep  clear of the snare: but if any one were to commit this charge to me, it would be all the same as if he tied my hands  behind my back, and delivered me to the wild beasts dwelling on that rock to rend me in pieces day by day. Do you  ask what those wild beasts are? They are wrath, despondency, envy, strife, slanders, accusations, falsehood,  hypocrisy, intrigues, anger against those who have done no harm, pleasure at the indecorous acts of fellow,  ministers, sorrow at their prosperity, love of praise, desire of honor (which indeed most of all drives the human  soul headlong to perdition), doctrines devised to please, servile flatteries, ignoble fawning, contempt of the poor,  paying court to the rich, senseless and mischievous honors, favors attended with danger both to those who offer  and those who accept them, sordid fear suited only to the basest of slaves, the abolition of plain speaking, a great  affectation of humility, but banishment of truth, the suppression of convictions and reproofs, or rather the  excessive use of them against the poor, while against those who are invested with power no one dare open his lips.
    For all these wild beasts, and more than these, are bred upon that rock of which I have spoken, and those whom  they have once captured are inevitably dragged down into such a depth of servitude that even to please women they  often do many things which it is well not to mention. The divine law indeed has excluded women from the  ministry, but they endeavor to thrust themselves into it; and since they can effect nothing of themselves, they do all  through the agency of others; and they have become invested with so much power that they can appoint or eject  priests at their will:(1) things in fact are turned upside down, and the proverbial saying may be seen realized--"The  ruled lead the rulers:" and would that it were men who do this instead of women, who have not received a  commission to teach. Why do I say teach? for the blessed Paul did not suffer them even to speak in the Church.(2)  But I have heard some one say that they have obtained such a large privilege of free speech, as even to rebuke the  prelates of the Churches, and censure them more severely than masters do their own domestics.
    10. And let not any one suppose that I subject all to the aforesaid charges: for there are some, yea many, who are  superior to these entanglements, and exceed in number those who have been caught by them. Nor would I indeed  make  the priesthood responsible for these evils: far be such madness from me. For men of understanding do not  say that the sword is to blame for murder, nor wine for drunkenness, nor strength for outrage, nor courage for  foolhardiness, but they lay the blame on those who make an improper use of the gifts which have been bestowed  upon them by God, and punish them accordingly. Certainly, at least, the priesthood may justly accuse us

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if we do not rightly handle it. For it is not  itself a cause of the evils already mentioned, but we, who as far as lies in  our power have defiled it with so many pollutions, by entrusting it to commonplace men who readily accept what is  offered them, without having first acquired a knowledge of their own souls, or considered the gravity of the office,  and when they have entered on the work, being blinded by inexperience, overwhelm with innumerable evils the  people who have been committed to their care. This is the very thing which was very nearly happening in my case,  had not God speedily delivered me from those dangers, mercifully sparing his Church and my own soul. For, tell  me, whence do you think such great troubles are generated in the Churches? I, for my part, believe the only source  of them to be the inconsiderate and random way in which prelates are chosen and appointed. For the head ought  to be the strongest part, that it may be able to regulate and control the evil exhalations which arise from the rest of  the body below; but when it happens to be weak in itself, and unable to repel those pestiferous attacks, it becomes  feebler itself than it really is, and ruins the rest of the body as well. And to prevent this now coming to pass, God  kept me in the position of the feet, which was the rank originally assigned to me. For there are very many other  qualities, Basil, besides those already mentioned, which the priest ought to have, but which I do not possess; and,  above all, this one:--his soul ought to be thoroughly purged from any lust after the office: for if he happens to have  a natural inclination for this dignity, as soon as he attains it a stronger flame is kindled, and the man being taken  completely captive will endure innumerable evils in order to keep a secure hold upon it, even to the extent of using  flattery, or submitting to something base and ignoble, or expending large sums of money. For I will not now speak  of the murders with which some have filled the Churches,(1) or the desolation which they have brought upon cities  in contending for the dignity, lest some persons should think what I say incredible. But I am of opinion one ought  to exercise so much caution in the matter, as to shun the burden of the office,(2) and when one has entered upon  it, not to wait for the judgment of others should any fault be committed which warrants deposition, but to  anticipate it by ejecting oneself from the dignity; for thus one might probably win mercy for himself from God: but  to cling to it in defiance of propriety is to deprive oneself of all forgiveness, or rather to kindle the wrath of God,  by adding a second error more offensive than the first.
    11. But no one will always endure the strain; for fearful, truly fearful is the eager desire after this honor. And in  saying this I am not in opposition to the blessed Paul, but in complete harmony with his words. For what says he?  "If any than desireth the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work."(3) Now I have not said that it is a terrible  thing to desire the work, but only the authority and power. And this desire I think one ought to expel from the soul  with all possible earnestness, not permitting it at the outset to be possessed by such a feeling, so that one may be  able to do everything with freedom. For he who does not desire to be exhibited in possession of this authority, does  not fear to be deposed from it, and not fearing this will be able to do everything with the freedom which becomes  Christian men: whereas they who fear and tremble lest they should be deposed undergo a bitter servitude, filled  with all kinds of evils, and are often compelled to offend against both God and man. Now the soul ought not to be  affected in this way; but as in warfare we see those soldiers who are noble-spirited fight willingly and fall bravely,  so they who have attained to this stewardship should be contented to be consecrated to the dignity or removed  from it, as becomes Christian men, knowing that deposition of this kind brings its reward no less than the  discharge of the office. For  when any one suffers anything of this kind, in  order to avoid submitting to something  which is unbecoming or unworthy of this dignity, he procures punishment for those who wrongfully depose him,  and a greater reward for himself.   "Blessed," says our Lord, "are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you,  and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake; rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your  reward in Heaven."(4) And this, indeed, is the case when any one is expelled by those of his own rank either on  account of envy, with a view to the favor of others, or through hatred, or from any other wrong motive: but when it  is the lot of any one to  experience this treatment at the hand of opponents, I do not think a word is needed to  prove what great gain they confer upon him by their wickedness.
    It behoves us, then, to be on the watch on all sides, and to make a careful search lest any

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spark of this desire should be secretly smouldering somewhere. For it is much to be wished that those who are  originally free from this passion, should also be able to avoid it when they have lighted upon this office. But if any  one, before he obtains the honor, cherishes in himself this terrible and savage monster, it is impossible to say into  what a furnace he will fling himself after he has attained it. Now I possessed this desire in a high degree (and do  not suppose that I would ever tell you what was untrue in self-disparagement): and this, combined with other  reasons, alarmed me not a little, and induced me to take flight. For just as lovers of the human person, as long as  they are permitted to be near the objects of their affection, suffer more severe torment from their passion, but  when they remove as far as possible from these objects of desire, they drive away the frenzy: even so when those  who desire this dignity are near it, the evil becomes intolerable: but when they cease to hope for it, the desire is  extinguished together with the expectation.
    12. This single motive then is no slight one: and even taken by itself it would have sufficed to deter me from this  dignity: but, as it is, another must be added not less than the former. And what is this? A priest ought to be sober  minded, and penetrating in discernment, and possessed of innumerable eyes in every direction, as one who lives  not for himself alone but for so great a multitude. But that I am sluggish and slack, and scarcely able to bring about  my own salvation, even you yourself would admit, who out of love to me art especially eager to conceal my faults.  Talk not to me in this connexion of fasting, and watching, or sleeping on the ground, and other hard discipline of  the body: for you know how defective I am in these matters: and even if they had been carefully practised by me  they could not with my present sluggishness have been of any service to me with a view to this post of authority.  Such things might be of great service to a man who was shut up in a cell, and caring only for his own concerns: but  when a man is divided among so great a multitude, and enters separately into the private cares of those who are  under his direction, what appreciable help can be given to their improvement unless he possesses a robust and  exceedingly vigorous character?
    13. And do not be surprised if, in connexion with such endurance, I seek another test of fortitude in the soul.  For to be indifferent to food and drink and a soft bed, we see is to many no hard task, especially at least to such as  are of a rough habit of life and have been brought up in this way from early youth, and to many others also; bodily  discipline and custom softening the severity of these laborious practices: but insult, and abuse, and coarse language,  and gibes from inferiors,whether wantonly or justly uttered, and rebukes vainly and idly spoken both by rulers and  the ruled--this is what few can bear, in fact only one or two here and there; and one may see men, who are strong  in the former exercises, so completely upset by these things, as to become more furious than the most savage  beasts. Now such men especially we should exclude from the precincts of the priesthood. For if a prelate did not  loathe food, or go barefoot, no harm would be done to the common interests of the Church; but a furious temper  causes great disasters both to him who possesses it, and to his neighbours. And there is no divine threat against  those who fail to do the things referred to, but hell and hell-fire are threatened against those who are angry without  a cause.(1) As then the lover of vainglory, when he takes upon him the government of numbers, sup  plies  additional fuel to the fire, so he who by himself, or in the company of a few, is unable to control his anger, but  readily carried away by it, should he be entrusted with the direction of a whole multitude, like some wild beast  goaded on all sides by countless tormentors, would never be able to live in tranquillity himself, and would cause  incalculable mischief to those who have been committed to his charge.
    14. For nothing clouds the purity of the reason, and the perspicuity of the mental vision so much as  undisciplined wrath, rushing along with violent impetuosity. "For wrath," says one, "destroys even the  prudent."(2) For the eye of the soul being darkened as in some nocturnal battle is not able to distinguish friends  from foes, nor the honorable from the unworthy, but handles them all in turn in the same way; even if some harm  must be suffered, readily enduring everything, in order to satisfy the pleasure of the soul. For the fire of wrath is a  kind of pleasure, and tyrannizes over the soul more harshly than pleasure, completely upsetting its healthy  organization. For it easily impels men to arrogance, and unseasonable enmities, and unreasonable hatred, and it  continually makes them ready to commit wanton and vain offences; and forces them to say and do many other  things of that kind, the soul being swept along by the rush of passion, and having nothing on which to fasten its  strength and resist so great an impulse.
    BASIL: I will not endure this irony of yours any longer: for who knows not how far removed you are from this  infirmity?

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    CHRYSOSTOM: Why then, my good friend, do you wish to bring me near the pyre, and to provoke the wild  beast when he is tranquil? Are you not aware that I have achieved this condition, not by any innate virtue, but by  my love of retirement? and that when one who is so constituted remains contented by himself, or only associates  with one or two friends, he is able to escape the fire which arises from this passion, but not if he has plunged into  the abyss of all these cares? for then he drags not only himself but many others with him to the brink of  destruction, and renders them more indifferent to all consideration for mildness. For the mass of people under  government  are generally inclined to regard the manners of those who govern as a kind of model type, and to  assimilate themselves to them. How then could any one put a stop to their fury when he is swelling himself with  rage? And who amongst the multitude would straightway desire to become moderate when he sees the ruler  irritable? For it is quite impossible for the defects of priests to be concealed, but even trifling ones speedily become  manifest. So an athlete, as long as he remains at home, and contends with no one, can dissemble his weakness  even if it be very great, but when he strips for the contest he is easily detected. And thus for some who live this  private and inactive life, their isolation serves as a veil to hide their defects; but when they have been brought into  public they are compelled to divest themselves of this mantle of seclusion, and to lay bare their souls to all through  their visible movements. As therefore their right deeds profit many, by provoking them to equal zeal, so their  shortcomings make men more indifferent to the practice of virtue, and encourage them to indolence in their  endeavours after what is excellent. Wherefore his soul ought to gleam with beauty on every side, that it may   be  able to gladden and to enlighten the souls of those who behold it. For the faults of ordinary men, being committed  as it were in the dark, ruin only those who practise them: but the errors of a man in a conspicuous position, and  known to many, inflicts a common injury upon all, rendering those who have fallen more supine in their efforts  for good, and driving to desperation those who wish to take heed to themselves. And apart from these things, the  faults of insignificant men, even if they are exposed, inflict no injury worth speaking of upon any one: but they  who occupy the highest seat of honor are in the first place plainly visible to all, and if they err in the smallest  matters these trifles seem great to others: for all men measure the sin, not by the magnitude of the offence, but by  the rank of the offender. Thus the priest ought to be protected on all sides by a kind of adamantine armour, by  intense earnestness, and perpetual watchfulness concerning his manner of life, lest some one discovering an  exposed and neglected spot  should inflict a deadly wound: for all who surround him are ready to smite and  overthrow him: not enemies only and adversaries, but many even of those who profess friendship.
    The souls therefore of men elected to the priesthood ought to be endued with such power as the grace of God  bestowed on the bodies of those saints who were cast into the Babylonian furnace.(1) Faggot and pitch and tow are  not the fuel of this fire, but things far more dreadful: for it is no material fire to which they are subjected, but the  all-devouring flame of envy encompasses them, rising up on every side, and assailing them, and putting their life to  a more searching test than the fire then was to the bodies of those young men. When then it finds a little trace of  stubble, it speedily fastens upon it; and this unsound part it entirely consumes, but all the rest of the fabric, even if  it be brighter than the sunbeams, is scorched and blackened by the smoke. For as long as the life of the priest is  well regulated in every direction, it is invulnerable to plots; but if he happens to overlook some trifle, as is natural  in a human being, traversing the treacherous ocean of this life, none of his other good deeds are of any avail in  enabling him to escape the mouths of his accusers; but that little blunder overshadows all the rest. And all men are  ready to pass judgment on the priest as if he was not a being clothed with flesh, or one who inherited a human  nature, but like an angel, and emancipated from every species of infirmity. And just as all men fear and flatter a  tyrant as long as he is strong,   because they cannot put him down, but when they see his affairs going adversely,  those who  were his friends a short time before abandon their hypocritical respect, and suddenly become his  enemies and antagonists, and having discovered all his weak points, make an attack upon him, and depose him  from the government; so is it also in the case of priests. Those who honored him and paid court to him a short  time before, while he was strong, as soon as they have found some little handle eagerly  prepare to depose him, not  as a tyrant only, but something far more dreadful than that. And as the tyrant fears his body guards, so also does  the priest dread most of all his neighbours and fellow-ministers. For no others  covet his dignity so much, or know  his affairs so well as these; and if anything occurs, be-

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ing near at hand, they perceive it before others, and even if they slander him, can easily command belief, and, by  magnifying trifles, take their victim captive. For the apostolic saying is reversed, "whether one member suffer, all  the members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it;"(1) unless indeed a man  should be able by his great discretion to stand his ground against everything.
    Are you then for sending me forth into so great a warfare? and did you think that my soul would be equal to a  contest so various in character and shape? Whence did you learn this, and from whom? If God certified this to you,  show me the oracle, and I obey; but if you cannot, and form your judgment from human opinion only, please to  set yourself free from this delusion. For in what concerns my own affairs it is fairer to trust me than others;  inasmuch as "no man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him."(2) That I should have  made myself and my electors ridiculous, had I accepted this office, and should with great loss have returned to this  condition of life in which I now am, I trust I have now convinced you by these remarks, if not before. For not  malice only, but something much stronger--the lust after this dignity--is wont to arm many against one who  possesses it. And just as avaricious children are oppressed by the old age of their parents, so some of these, when  they see the priestly office held by any one for a protracted time--since it would be wickedness to destroy  him--hasten to depose him from it, being all desirous to take his place, and each expecting that the dignity will be  transferred to himself.
    15. Would you like me to show you yet another phase of this strife, charged with innumerable dangers? Come,  then, and take a peep at the public festivals when it is generally the custom for elections to be made to ecclesiastical  dignities, and you will then see the priest assailed with accusations as numerous as the people whom he rules. For  all who have the privilege of conferring the honor are then split into many parties; and one can never find the  council of elders(3) of one mind with each other, or about the man who has won the prelacy; but each stands apart  from the others, one preferring this man, another that. Now the reason is that they do not all look to one thing,  which ought to be the only object kept in view, the excellence of the character; but other qualifications are alleged as  recommending to this honor; for instance, of one it is said, "let him be elected because he belongs to an illustrious  family," of another "because he is possessed of great wealth, and would not need to be supported out of the  revenues of the Church," of a third "because he has come over from the camp of the adversary;" one is eager to  give the preference to a man who is on terms of intimacy with himself, another to the man who is related to him  by birth, a third to the flatterer, but no one will look to the man who is really qualified, or make some test of his  character. Now I am so far from thinking these things trustworthy criteria of a man's fitness for the priesthood,  that even if any one manifested great piety, which is no small help in the discharge of that office, I should not  venture to approve him on that account alone, unless he happened to combine good abilities with his piety. For I  know many men who have exercised perpetual restraint upon themselves, and consumed themselves with fastings,  who, as long as they were suffered to be alone, and attend to their own concerns, have been acceptable to God, and  day by day have made no small addition to this kind of learning; but as soon as they entered public life, and were  compelled to correct the ignorance of the multitude, have, some of them, proved from the outset incompetent for  so great a task, and others when forced to persevere in it, have abandoned their former strict way of living, and  thus inflicted great injury on themselves without profiting others at all. And if any one spent his whole time in the  lowest rank of the ministry, and reached extreme old age, I would not, merely out of reverence for his years,  promote him to the higher dignity; for what if, after arriving at that time of life, he should still remain unfit for the  office? And I say this now, not as wishing to dishonor the grey head, nor as laying down a law absolutely to exclude  from this authority those who come from the monastic circle (for there are instances of many who issued from that  body, having shone conspicuously in this dignity); but the point which I am anxious to prove is, that if neither piety  of itself, nor advanced age, would suffice to show that a man who had obtained the priesthood really deserved it,  the reasons formerly alleged would scarcely effect this. There are also men who bring forward other pretexts yet  more

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absurd; for some are enrolled in the ranks of the clergy, that they may not range themselves among opponents,  and others on account of their evil disposition, lest they should do great mischief if they are overlooked. Could  anything be more contrary to right rule than this? that bad men, laden with iniquity, should be courted on account  of those things for which they ought to be punished, and ascend to the priestly dignity on account of things for  which they ought to be debarred from the very threshold of the Church. Tell me, then, shall we seek any further  the cause of God's wrath when we expose things so holy and awful to be defiled by men who are either wicked or  worthless? for when some men are entrusted with the administration of things which are not at all suitable to  them, and others of things which exceed their natural power, they make the condition of the Church like that of  Euripus.(1)
    Now formerly I used to deride secular rulers, because in the distribution of their honors they are not guided by  considerations of moral excellence, but of wealth, and seniority, and human distinction; but when I heard that this  kind of folly had forced its way into our affairs also, I no longer regarded their conduct as so atrocious. For what  wonder is it that worldly men, who love the praise of the multitude, and do everything for the sake of gain, should  commit these sins, when those who affect at least to be free from all these influences are in no wise better disposed  than they, but although engaged in a contest for heavenly things, act as if the question submitted for decision was  one which concerned acres of land, or something else of that kind? for they take commonplace men off-hand, and  set them to preside over those things, for the sake of which the only begotten Son of God did not refuse to empty  Himself of His glory and become man, and take the form of a servant, and be spat upon, and buffeted, and die a  death of reproach in the flesh. Nor do they stop even here, but add to these offences others still more monstrous;  for not only do they elect unworthy men, but actually expel those who are well qualified. As if it were necessary to  ruin the safety of the Church on both sides, or as if the former provocation were not sufficient to kindle the wrath  of God, they have contrived yet another not less pernicious. For I consider it as atrocious to expel the useful men  as to force in the useless. And this in fact takes place, so that the flock of Christ is unable to find consolation in any  direction, or draw its breath freely. Now do not such deeds deserve to be punished by ten thousand thunder-bolts,  and a hell-fire hotter than that with which we are threatened [in Holy Scripture]? Yet these monstrous evils are  borne with by Him who willeth not the death of a sinner, that he may be converted and live. And how can one  sufficiently marvel at His lovingkindness, and be amazed at His mercy? They who belong to Christ destroy the  property of Christ more than enemies and adversaries, yet the good Lord still deals gently with them, and calls  them to repentance. Glory be to Thee, O Lord! Glory to Thee! How vast is the depth of Thy lovingkindness! how  great the riches of Thy forbearance! Men who on account of Thy name have risen from insignificance and  obscurity to positions of honor and distinction, use the honor they enjoy against Him who has bestowed it, do  deeds of outrageous audacity, and insult holy things, rejecting and expelling men of zeal in order that the wicked  may ruin everything at their pleasure in much security, and with the utmost fearlessness. And if you would know  the causes of this dreadful evil, you will find that they are similar to those which were mentioned before; for they  have one root and mother, so to say--namely, envy; but this is manifested in several different forms: For one we  are told is to be struck out of the list of candidates, because he is young; another because he does not know how to  flatter; a third because he has offended such and such a person; a fourth lest such and such a man should be pained  at seeing one whom he has presented rejected, and this man elected; a fifth because he is kind and gentle; a sixth  because he is formidable to the sinful; a seventh for some other like reason; for they are at no loss to find as many  pretexts as they want, and can even make the abundance of a man's wealth an objection when they have no other.  Indeed they would be capable of discovering other reasons, as many as they wish, why a man ought not to be  brought suddenly to this honor, but gently and gradually. And here I should like to ask the question, "What, then,  is the prelate to do, who has to contend with such blasts? How shall he hold his ground against such billows? How  shall he repel all these assaults?"
    For if he manages the business(2) upon upright principles, all those who are enemies and adversaries both to  him and to the candidates do everything with a view to contention, provoking daily strife, and heaping infinite

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scorn upon the candidates, until they have got them struck off the list, or have introduced their own favorites. In  fact it is just as if some pilot had pirates sailing with him in his ship, perpetually plotting every hour against him,  and the sailors, and marines. And if he should prefer favor with such men to his own salvation, accepting unworthy  candidates, he will have God for his enemy in their stead; and what could be more dreadful than that? And yet his  relations with them will be more embarrassing than formerly, as they will all combine with each other, and thereby  become more powerful than before. For as when fierce winds coming from opposite directions clash with one  another, the ocean, hitherto calm, becomes suddenly furious and raises its crested waves, destroying those who are  sailing over it, so also when the Church has admitted corrupt men, its once tranquil surface is covered with rough  surf and strewn with shipwrecks.
    16. Consider, then, what kind of man he ought to be who is to hold out against such a tempest, and to manage  skillfully such great hindrances to the common welfare; for he ought to be dignified yet free from arrogance,  formidable yet kind, apt to command yet sociable, impartial yet courteous, humble yet not servile, strong yet  gentle, in order that he may contend successfully against all these difficulties. And he ought to bring forward with  great authority the man who is properly qualified for the office, even if all should oppose him, and with the same  authority to reject the man who is not so qualified, even if all should conspire in his favor, and to keep one aim  only in view, the building up of the Church, in nothing actuated either by enmity or favor. Well, do you now think  that I acted reasonably in declining the ministry of this office? But I have not even yet gone through all my reasons  with you; for I have some others still to mention. And do not grow impatient of listening to a friendly and sincere  man, who wishes to clear himself from your accusations; for these statements are not only serviceable for the  defence which you have to make on my behalf, but they will also prove of no small help for the due administration  of the office. For it is necessary for one who is going to enter upon this path of life to investigate all matters  thoroughly well, before he sets his hand to the ministry. Do you ask why? Because one who knows all things clearly  will have this advantage, if no other, that he will not feel strange when these things befall him. Would you like me  then to approach the question of superintending widows, first of all, or of the care of virgins, or the difficulty of the  judicial function. For in each of these cases there is a different kind of anxiety, and the fear is greater than the  anxiety.
    Now in the first place, to start from that subject which seems to be simpler than the others, the charge of widows  appears to cause anxiety to those who take care of them only so far as the expenditure of money is concerned; but  the case is otherwise, and here also a careful scrutiny is needed, when they have to be enrolled,(1) for infinite  mischief has been caused by putting them on the list without due discrimination. For they have ruined households,  and severed marriages, and have often been detected in thieving and pilfering and unseemly deeds of that kind.  Now that such women should be supported out of the Church's revenues provokes punishment from God, and  extreme condemnation among men, and abates the zeal of those who wish to do good. For who would ever choose  to expend the wealth which he was commanded to give to Christ upon those who defame the name of Christ? For  these reasons a strict and curate scrutiny ought to be made so as to prevent the supply of the indigent being wasted,  not only by the women already mentioned, but also by those who are able to provide for themselves. And this  scrutiny is succeeded by no small anxiety of another kind, to ensure an abundant and unfailing stream of supply as  from a fountain; for compulsory poverty is an insatiable kind of evil, querulous and ungrateful. And great  discretion and great zeal is required so as to stop the mouths of complainers, depriving them of every excuse. Now  most men, when they see any one superior to the love of money, forthwith represent him as well qualified for this  stewardship. But I do not think that this greatness of soul is ever sufficient of itself, although it ought to be  possessed prior to all other qualities; for without this a man would be a destroyer rather than a protector, a wolf  instead of a shepherd; nevertheless, combined with this, the possession of another quality also should be  demanded. And this quality is forbearance, the cause of all good things in men, impelling as it were and conducting  the soul into a serene haven. For widows are a class who, both on account of their poverty, their age and natural  dispo-

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sition, indulge in unlimited freedom of speech (so I had best call it); and they make an unseasonable clamor and  idle complaints and lamentations about matters for which they ought to be grateful, and bring accusations  concerning things which they ought contentedly to accept. Now the superintendent should endure all these things  in a generous spirit, and not be provoked either by their unreasonable annoyance or their unreasonable  complaints. For this class of persons deserve to be pitied for their misfortunes, not to be insulted; and to trample  upon their calamities, and add the pain of insult to that which poverty brings, would be an act of extreme brutality.  On this account one of the wisest of  men, having regard to the avarice and pride of human nature, and  considering the nature of poverty and its terrible power to depress even the noblest character, and induce it often  to act in these same respects without shame, in order that a man should not be irritated when accused, nor be  provoked by continual importunity to become an enemy where he ought to bring aid, he instructs him to be affable  and accessible to the suppliant, saying, "Incline thine ear to a poor man and give him a friendly answer with  meekness."(1) And passing by the case of one who succeeds in  exasperating (for what can one say to him who is  overcome?), he addresses the man who is able to bear the other's infirmity, exhorting him before he bestows his  gift to correct the suppliant by the gentleness of his countenance and the mildness of his words. But if any one,  although he does not take the property (of these widows), nevertheless loads them with innumerable reproaches,  and insults them, and is exasperated against them, he not only fails through his gift to alleviate the despondency  produced by poverty, but aggravates the distress by his abuse. For although they may be compelled to act very  shamelessly through the necessity of hunger, they are nevertheless distressed at this compulsion. When, then,  owing to the dread of famine, they are constrained to beg, and owing to their begging are constrained to put off  shame, and then again on account of their shamelessness are insulted, the power of despondency becoming of a  complex kind, and accompanied by much gloom,   settles down upon the soul. And one who has the charge of these  persons ought to be so long-suffering, as not only not to increase their despondency by his fits of anger, but also to  remove the greater part of it by his exhortation. For as the man who has been insulted, although he is in the  enjoyment of great abundance, does not feel the advantage of his wealth, on account of the blow which he has  received from the insult; so on the other hand, the man who has been addressed with kindly words, and for whom  the gift has been accompanied with encouragement, exults and rejoices all the more, and the thing given becomes  doubled in value through the manner in which it is offered. And this I say not of myself, but borrow from him  whose precept I quoted just now: "My son, blemish not thy good deeds, neither use uncomfortable words when  thou givest anything. Shall not the dew assuage the heat? So is a word better than a gift. Lo! is not a word better  than  a gift? but both are with a gracious man."(2)
    But the superintendent of these persons ought not only to be gentle and forbearing, but also skillful in the  management of property; for if this qualification is wanting, the affairs of the poor are again involved in the same  distress. One who was entrusted not long ago with this ministry, and got together a large hoard of money, neither  consumed it himself, nor expended it with a few exceptions upon those who needed it, but kept the greater part of  it buried in the earth until a season of distress occurred, when it was all surrendered into the bands of the enemy.  Much forethought, therefore, is needed, that the resources of the Church should be neither over abundant, nor  deficient, but that all the supplies which are provided should be quickly distributed among those who require them,  and the treasures of the Church stored up in the hearts of those who are under her rule.
    Moreover, in the reception of strangers, and the care of the sick, consider how great an expenditure of money is  needed, and how much exactness and discernment on the part of those who preside over these matters. For it is  often necessary that this expenditure should be even larger than that of which I spoke just now, and that he  who  presides over it should combine prudence and wisdom with skill in the art of supply, so as to dispose the affluent to  be emulous and ungrudging in their gifts, lest while providing for the relief of the sick, he should vex the souls of  those who supply their wants. But earnestness and zeal need to be displayed here in a far higher degree; for the sick  are difficult creatures to please, and prone to languor; and unless great accuracy and care are used, even a slight  oversight is enough to do the patient great mischief.
    17. But in the care of virgins, the fear is greater in proportion as the possession is more precious, and this flock  is of a nobler character

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than the others. Already, indeed, even into the band of these holy ones, an infinite number of women have rushed  full of innumerable bad qualities; and in this case our grief is greater than in the other; for there is just the same  difference between a virgin and a widow going astray, as between a free-born damsel and her handmaid. With  widows, indeed, it has become a common practice to trifle, and to rail at one another, to flatter or to be impudent,  to appear everywhere in public, and to perambulate the market-place. But the virgin has striven for nobler aims,  and eagerly sought the highest kind of philosophy,(1) and professes to exhibit upon earth the life which angels lead,  and while yet in the flesh proposes to do deeds which belong to the incorporeal powers. Moreover, she ought not  to make numerous or unnecessary journeys, neither is it permissible for her to utter idle and random words; and  as for abuse and flattery, she should not even know them by name. On this account she needs the most careful  guardianship, and the greater assistance. For the enemy of holiness is always surprising and lying in wait for these  persons, ready to devour any one of them if she should slip and fall; many men also there are who lay snares for  them; and besides all these things there is the passionateness of their own human nature, so that, speaking  generally, the virgin has to equip herself for a twofold war, one which attacks her from without, and the other  which presses upon her from within. For these reasons he who has the superintendence of virgins suffers great  alarm, and the danger and distress is yet greater, should any of the things which are contrary to his wishes occur,  which God forbid. For if a daughter kept in seclusion is a cause of sleeplessness to her father, his anxiety about her  depriving him of sleep, where the fear is so great lest she should be childless, or pass the flower of her age  (unmarried), or be hated (by her husband),(2) what will he suffer whose anxiety is not concerned with any of these  things, but others far greater? For in this, case it is not a man who is rejected, but Christ  Himself, nor is this  barrenness the subject  merely of reproach, but the evil ends in the destruction of the soul; "for every tree," it is  said, "which bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down and cast into the fire."(3) And for one who has been  repudiated by the divine Bridegroom, it is not sufficient to receive a certificate of divorce and so to depart, but she  has to pay the penalty of everlasting punishment. Moreover, a father according to the flesh has many things which  make the custody of his daughter easy; for the mother, and nurse, and a multitude of handmaids share in helping  the parent to keep the maiden safe. For neither is she permitted to be perpetually hurrying into the market-place,  nor when she does go there is she compelled to show herself to any of the passers-by, the evening darkness  concealing one who does not wish to be seen no less than the walls of the house. And apart from these things, she  is relieved from every cause which might otherwise compel her to meet the gaze of men; for no anxiety about the  necessaries of life, no menaces of oppressors, nor anything of that kind reduces her to this unfortunate necessity,  her father acting in her stead in all these matters; while she herself has only one anxiety, which is to avoid doing or  saying anything unworthy the modest conduct which becomes her. But in the other case there are many things  which make the custody of the virgin difficult, or rather impossible for the father; for he could not have her in his  house with himself, as dwelling together in that way would be neither seemly nor safe. For even if they themselves  should suffer no loss, but continue to preserve their innocence unsullied, they would have to give an account for  the souls which they have offended, just as much as if they happened to sin with one another. And it being  impossible for them to live together, it is not easy to understand the movements of the character, and to suppress  the impulses which are ill regulated, or train and improve those which are better ordered and tuned. Nor is it an  easy thing to interfere in her habits of walking out; for her poverty and want of a guardian does not permit him to  become an exact investigator of the propriety of her conduct. For as she is compelled to manage all her affairs she  has many pretexts for going out, if at least she is not inclined to be self-controlled. Now he who commands her to  stay always at home ought to cut off these pretexts, providing for her independence in the necessaries of life, and  giving her some woman who will see to the management of these things. He must also keep her away from funeral  obsequies, and nocturnal festivals; for that artful serpent knows only too well how to scatter his poison through the  medium even of good deeds. And the maiden must be fenced on every side, and rarely go out of the house during  the whole year, except when she is constrained by inexorable necessity. Now if any one should say

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that none of these things is the proper work of a bishop to take in hand, let him be assured that the anxieties and  the reasons concerning what takes place in every case have to be referred to him. And it is far more expedient that  he should manage everything, and so be delivered from the complaints which he must otherwise undergo on  account of the faults of others, than that he should abstain from the management, and then have to dread being  called to account for things which other men have done. Moreover, he who does these things by himself, gets  through them all with great ease; but he who is compelled to do it by converting every one's opinion does not get  relief by being saved from working single-handed, equivalent to the trouble and turmoil which he experiences  through those who oppose him and combat his decisions. However, I could not enumerate all the anxieties  concerned with the care of virgins; for when they have to be entered on the list, they occasion no small trouble to  him who is entrusted  with this business.
    Again, the judicial department of the bishop's office involves innumerable vexations, great consumption of time,  and difficulties exceeding those experienced by men who sit to judge secular affairs; for it is a labor to discover  exact justice, and when it is found, it is difficult to avoid destroying it. And not only loss of time and difficulty are  incurred, but also no small danger. For ere now, some of the weaker brethren having plunged into business,  because they have not obtained patronage have made shipwreck concerning the faith. For many of those who have  suffered wrong, no less than those who have inflicted wrong, hate those who do not assist them, and they will not  take into account either the intricacy of the matters in question, or the difficulty of the times, or the limits of  sacerdotal authority, or anything of that kind; but they are merciless judges, recognizing only one kind of  defence--release from the evils which oppress them. And he who is unable to furnish this, although he may allege  innumerable excuses, will never escape their condemnation.
    And talking of patronage, let me disclose another pretext for fault-finding. For if the bishop does not pay a  round of visits every day, more even than the idle men about town, unspeakable offence ensues. For not only the  sick, but also the whole, desire to be looked after, not that piety prompts them to this, but rather that in most cases  they pretend claims to honor and distinction. And if he should ever happen to visit more constantly one of the  richer and more powerful men, under the pressure of some necessity, with a view to the common benefit of the  Church, he is immediately stigmatized with a character for fawning and flattery. But why do I speak of patronage  and visiting? For merely from their mode of accosting persons, bishops have to endure such a load of reproaches as  to be often oppressed and overwhelmed by despondency; in fact, they have also to undergo a scrutiny of the way in  which they use their eyes. For the public rigorously criticize their simplest actions, taking note of the tone of their  voice, the cast of their countenance, and the degree of their laughter. He laughed heartily to such a man, one will  say, and accosted him with a beaming face, and a clear voice, whereas to me he addressed only a slight and passing  remark. And in a large assembly, if he does not turn his eyes in every direction when he is conversing, the majority  declare that his conduct is insulting.
    Who, then, unless he is exceedingly strong, could cope with so many accusers, so as either to avoid being indited  altogether, or, if he is indited, to escape? For he must either be without any accusers, or, if this is impossible, purge  himself of the accusations which are brought against him; and if this again is not an easy matter, as some men  delight in making vain and wanton charges, he must make a brave stand against the dejection produced by these  complaints. He, indeed, who is justly accused, may easily tolerate the accuser, for there is no bitterer accuser than  conscience; wherefore, if we are caught first by this most terrible adversary, we can readily endure the milder ones  who are external to us. But he who has no evil thing upon his conscience, when he is subjected to an empty charge,  is speedily excited to wrath, and easily sinks into dejection, unless he happens to have practised beforehand how to  put up with the follies of the multitude. For it is utterly impossible for one who is falsely accused without cause, and  condemned, to avoid feeling some vexation and annoyance at such great injustice.
    And how can one speak of the distress which bishops undergo, whenever it is necessary to cut some one off from  the full communion of the Church? Would indeed that the evil went no further than distress! but in fact the  mischief is not trifling. For there is a fear lest the man, if he has been punished beyond what he deserves, should  experience that  which was spoken of by the blessed Paul and "be swallowed up by overmuch sorrow."(1) The  nicest accuracy, therefore, is required in this matter also, lest what is intended to be

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profitable should become to him an occasion of greater damage. For whatever sins he may commit after such a  method of treatment, the wrath caused by each of them must be shared by the physician who so unskillfully applied  his knife to the wound. What severe punishment, then, must be expected by one who has not only to render an  account of the offences which he himself has separately committed, but also incurs extreme danger on account of  the sins committed by others? For if we shudder at undergoing judgment for our own misdeeds, believing that we  shall not be able to escape the fire of the other world, what must one expect to suffer who has to answer for so  many others? To prove the truth of this, listen to the blessed Paul, or rather not to him, but to Christ speaking in  him, when he says "Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit, for they watch for your souls as they that  shall give account."(1) Can the dread of this threat be slight? It is impossible to say: but these considerations are  sufficient to convince even the most incredulous and obdurate that I did not make this escape under the influence  of pride or vainglory, but merely out of fear for my own safety, and consideration of the gravity of the office.

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BASIL heard this, and after a little pause thus replied:
    If thou wert thyself ambitious of obtaining this office, thy fear would have been reasonable; for in being  ambitious of undertaking it, a man confesses himself to be qualified for its administration, and if he fail therein,  after it has been entrusted to him, he cannot take refuge in the plea of inexperience, for he has deprived himself of  this excuse beforehand,(1) by having hurriedly seized upon the ministry, and whoever willingly and deliberately  enters upon it, can no longer say, "I have sinned in this matter against my will--and against my will I have ruined  such and such a soul;" for He who will one day judge him, will say to him, "Since then thou wert conscious of such  inexperience, and hadst not ability for undertaking this matter without incurring reproach, why wert thou so eager  and presumptuous as to take in hand what was so far beyond thy power? Who compelled thee to do so? Didst thou  shrink or fly, and did any one drag thee on by force?" But thou wilt hear nothing like this, for thou canst have  nothing of this kind to condemn thyself for; and it is evident to all that thou wert in no degree ambitious of this  dignity, for the accomplishment of the matter was due to the action of others. Hence, circumstances which leave  those who are ambitious of this office no chance of pardon when they err therein, afford thee ample ground for  excuse.
    CHRYSOSTOM: At this I shook my head and smiled a little, admiring the simple-mindedness of the man, and  thus addressed him: I could wish indeed that matters were as thou sayest, most excellent of men, but not in order  that I might be able to accept that office from which I lately fled. For if, indeed, no chastisement were to await me  for undertaking the care of the flock of Christ without consideration and experience, yet to me it would be worse  than all punishment, after being entrusted with so great a charge, to have seemed so base towards Him who  entrusted me with it. For what reason, then, did I wish that thou wert not mistaken in this opinion of thine? truly  for the sake of those wretched and unhappy beings (for so must I call them, who have not found out how to  discharge the duties of this office well,though thou weft to say ten thousand times

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over that they had been driven to undertake it, and that, therefore, their errors therein are sins of ignorance)--for  the sake, I say, of such that they might succeed in escaping that unquenchable fire, and the outer darkness(1) and  the worm that dieth not(2) and the punishment of being cut asunder,(3) and perishing together with the hypocrites.
    But what am I to do for thee? It is not as thou sayest; no, by no means. And if thou wilt, I will give thee a proof  of what I maintain, from the case of a kingdom, which is not of such account with God as the priesthood. Saul, that  son of Kish, was not himself at all ambitious of becoming a king, but was going in quest of his asses, and came to  ask the prophet about them. The prophet, however, proceeded to speak to him of the kingdom, but not even then  did he run greedily after it, though he heard about it from a prophet, but drew back and deprecated it, saying,  "Who am I, and what is my father's house."(4) What then? When he made a bad use of the honor which had been  given him by God, were those words of his able to rescue him from the wrath of Him who had made him king?  And was he able to say to Samuel, when rebuked by him: "Did I greedily run and rush after the kingdom and  sovereign power? I wished to lead the undisturbed and peaceful life of ordinary men, but thou didst drag me to this  post of honor. Had I remained in my low estate I should easily have escaped all these stumbling blocks, for were I  one of the obscure multitude, I should never have been sent forth on this expedition, nor would God have  committed to my hands the war against the Amalekites, and if I had not had it committed to me, I should not have  sinned this sin." But all such arguments are weak as excuses, and not only weak, but perilous, inasmuch as they  rather kindle the wrath of God. For he who has been promoted to great honor by God, must not advance the  greatness of his honor as an excuse for his errors, but should make God's special favor towards him the motive for  further improvement; whereas he who thinks himself at liberty to sin because he has obtained some uncommon  dignity, what does he but study to show that the lovingkindness of God is the cause of his personal transgression,  which is always the argument of those who lead godless and careless lives. But we ought to be on no account thus  minded, nor to fall away into the insane folly of such people, but be ambitious at all times to make the most of  such powers as we have, and to be reverent both in speech and thought.
    For (to leave the kingdom and to come to the priesthood, which is the more immediate subject of our discourse)  neither was Eli ambitious of obtaining his high office, yet what advantage was this to him when he sinned therein?  But why do I say obtain it? not even had he wished could he have avoided it, because he was under a legal necessity  to accept it. For he was of the tribe of Levi, and was bound to undertake that high office which descended to him  from his forefathers, notwithstanding which even he paid no small penalty for the lawlessness(5) of his sons. And  the very first High Priest of the Jews,(6) concerning whom God spake so many words to Moses, when he was  unable to withstand alone the frenzy of so great a multitude, was he not very nearly being destroyed, but for the  intercession of his brother, which averted the wrath of God?(7) And since we have mentioned Moses, it will be well  to show the truth of what we are saying from what happened to him. For this same saintly Moses was so far from  grasping at the leadership of the Jews as to deprecate the offer,(8) and to decline it when God commanded him to  take it, and so to provoke the wrath of Him who appointed him; and not only then, but afterwards when he  entered upon his rule, he would gladly have died to have been set free from it: "Kill me," saith he, "if thou art going  to deal thus with me."(9) But what then? when he sinned at the waters of strife,(10) could these repeated refusals  be pleaded in excuse for him? Could they prevail with God to grant him pardon? And wherefore was he deprived of  the promised land? for no other reason, as we all know, than for this sin of his, for which that wondrous man was  debarred from enjoying the same blessings which those over whom he ruled obtained; but after many labors and  sufferings, after that unspeakable wandering, after so many, battles fought and victories won, he died outside the  land to reach which he had undergone so much toil and trial; and though he had weathered the storms of the deep,  he failed to enjoy the blessings of the haven after all. From hence then thou seest that not only they who grasp at  this office are left without excuse for the sins they commit in the dis-

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charge thereof, but they too who come to it through the ambitious desire of others; for truly if those persons who  have been chosen for this high office by God himself, though they have never so often refused it, have paid such  heavy penalties, and if nothing has availed to deliver any of them from this danger, neither Aaron nor Eli, nor that  holy man the Saint, the prophet, the wonder worker, the meek above all the men which were upon the face of the  earth,(1) who spake with God, as a man speaketh unto his friend,(2) hardly shall we who fall so infinitely short of  the excellence of that great man, be able to plead as a sufficient excuse the consciousness that we have never been  ambitious of the dignity, more especially when many of the ordinations now-a-days do not proceed from the grace  of God, but are due to human ambition. God chose Judas, and counted him one of the sacred band, and committed  to him, as to the rest, the dignity of the apostolic office; yea he gave him somewhat beyond the others, the  stewardship of the money.(3) But what of that? when he afterwards abused both these trusts, betraying Him whom  he was commissioned to preach, and misapplying the money which he should have laid out well; did he escape  punishment?(4) nay for this very reason he even brought upon himself greater punishment, and very reasonably  too. For we must not use the high honors given to us by God so as to offend Him, but so as to please Him better.  But he who claims exemption from punishment where it is due, because he has been exalted to higher honor than  others, acts very much like one of those unbelieving Jews, who after hearing Christ say, "If I had not come and  spoken unto them, they had not had sin, "If I had not done among them the works which none other did, they had  not had sin,"(5) should reproach the Saviour and benefactor of mankind by replying," Why, then, didst thou come  and speak? why didst thou work miracles? was it that thou mightest punish us the more?" But these are the words  of madness and of utter senselessness. For the Great Physician came not to give thee over, but to heal thee--not to  pass thee by when thou wert sick, but to rid thee entirely of disease. But thou hast of thine own accord withdrawn  thyself from his hands; receive therefore the sorer punishment. For as thou wouldest have been freed from thy  former maladies if thou hadst yielded to his treatment, so if, when thou sawest him coming to thine aid thou  reddest from him, thou wilt no longer be able to cleanse thyself of these infirmities, and as thou art unable, thou  wilt both suffer punishment for them, and also because for thy part thou madest God's solicitude for thy good of  none effect. Therefore we who act like this are not subjected to the same torment after as before we received  honor at God's hands, but far severer torment after than before. For he who has not become good even by being  well treated, deserves all the bitterer punishment. Since, then, this excuse of thine has been shown to be weak, and  not only fails to save those who take refuge in it, but exposes them so much the more, we must provide ourselves  with some other means of safety.
    BASIL: Tell me of what nature is that? since, as for me, I am at present scarce master of myself, thou hast  reduced me to such a state of fear and trembling by what thou hast said.
    CHRYSOSTOM: Do not, I beseech and implore thee, do not be so downcast. For while there is safety for us  who are weak, namely, in not undertaking this office at all, there is safety for you too who are strong, and this  consists in making your hopes of salvation depend, next to the grace of God, on avoiding every act unworthy of  this gift, and of God who gave it. For they certainly would be deserving of the greatest punishment who, after  obtaining this dignity through their own ambition, should then either on account of sloth, or wickedness, or even  inexperience, abuse the office. Not that we are to gather from this that there is pardon in store for those who have  not been thus ambitious. Yea, even they too are deprived of all excuse. For in  my judgment, if ten thousand were  to entreat and urge, a man should pay them no attention, but should first of all search his own heart, and examine  the whole matter carefully before yielding to their importunities. Now no one would venture to undertake the  building of a house were he not an architect, nor will any one attempt the cure of sick bodies who is not a skilled  physician; but even though many urge him, will beg off, and will not be ashamed to own his ignorance; and shall he  who is going to have the care of so many souls entrusted to him, not examine himself beforehand? will he accept  this ministry even though he be the most inexperienced of men, because this one commands him, or that man  constrains him, or for fear of offending a third? And if so, how will he escape casting himself together with them  into manifest misery. Had he continued as he was, it were possible for him to be saved, but now he involves others  in his own destruction. For whence can he hope for salvation? whence

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to obtain pardon? Who will then successfully  intercede for us? they who are now perhaps  urging us and forcibly  dragging us on? But who will save these same at such a moment? For even they too will stand in need in their turn  of intercession, that they may escape the fire. Now, that I say not these things to frighten thee, but as representing  the matter as in truth it is, hear what the holy Apostle Paul saith to Timothy his disciple, his own and beloved son,  "Lay hands suddenly on no  man, neither be partaker of other men's sins."(1) Dost thou not see from what great  blame, yea and vengeance, we, so far as in us lies, have delivered those who were ready to put us forward for this  office.
    2. For as it is not enough for those who are chosen to say in excuse for themselves, "I did not summon myself to  this office, nor could I avoid what I did not see beforehand;" so neither will it be a sufficient plea for those who  ordain them to say that they did not know him who was ordained. The charge against them becomes greater on  account of their ignorance of him whom they brought forward, and what seems to excuse them only serves to  accuse them the more. For how absurd a thing, is it not? that they who want to buy a slave, show him to the  physician, and require sureties for the sale, and information about him from their neighbours, and after all this do  not yet venture on his purchase without asking for some time for a trial of him; while they who are going to admit  any one to so great an office as this, give their testimonial and their sanction loosely and carelessly, without further  investigation, just because some one wishes it, or to court the favor, or to avoid the displeasure of some one else.  Who shall then successfully intercede for us in that day, when they who ought to defend us stand themselves in  need of defenders? He who is going to ordain, therefore, ought to make diligent inquiry, and much more he who is  to be ordained. For though they who ordain him share his punishment, for any sins which he may commit in his  office, yet so far from escaping vengeance he will even pay a greater penalty than they--save only if they who chose  him acted from some worldly motive contrary to what seemed justifiable to themselves. For if they should be  detected so doing, and knowing a man to be unworthy have brought him forward on some pretext or   other, the  amount of their punishment shall be equivalent to his, nay perhaps the punishment shall be even greater for them  who appointed the unfit man. For he who gives authority to any one who is minded to destroy the Church, would  be certainly to blame for the outrages which that person commits. But if he is guilty of no such thing, and says that  he has been misled by the opinions of others, even then he shall not altogether remain unpunished, but his  punishment shall be a little lighter than his who has been ordained. What then? It is possible that they who elect  may come to the election deceived by a false report. But he who is elected could not say, "I am ignorant of myself,"  as others were of him. As one who will receive therefore a sorer punishment than they who put him forward, so  should he make his scrutiny of himself more careful than that which they make of him; and if they in ignorance  drag him on, he ought to come forward and instruct them carefully about any matters whereby he may stop their  being misled; and so having shown himself unworthy of trial may escape the burden of so high an office.
    For what is the reason why, in the arts of war, and merchandize,(2) and husbandry, and other departments of  this life, when some plan is proposed, the husbandman will not undertake to navigate the ship, nor the soldier to  till the ground, nor the pilot to lead an army, under pain of ten thousand deaths? Is it not plainly this? that each  foresees the danger which would attend his incompetence? Well, where the loss is concerned with trifles shall we  use so much forethought, and refuse to yield to the pressure of compulsion, but where the punishment is eternal,  as it is for those who know not how to handle the Priesthood, shall we wantonly and inconsiderately run into so  great danger, and then advance, as our excuse, the pressing entreaties of others? But He who one day will judge us  will entertain no such plea as this. For we ought to show far more caution in spiritual matters than in carnal. But  now we are not found exhibiting as much caution. For tell me: if supposing a man to be an artificer, when he is not  so, we invited him to do a piece of work, and he were to respond to the call, and then having set his hand to the  material prepared for the building, were to spoil the wood and spoil the stone, and so to build the house that it  straightway fell to pieces, would it be sufficient excuse for him to allege that he had been urged by others and did  not come of his own accord? in no wise; and very reasonably and justly so. For he ought to have refused even at the  call of others. So for the man who only spoils wood and stone, there will be no escape from paying the penalty, and  is he who de-

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stroys souls, and builds the temple of God carelessly, to think that the compulsion of others is his warrant for  escaping punishment? Is not this very absurd? For I omit the fact as yet that no one is able to compel the man who  is unwilling. But be it that he was subjected to excessive pressure and divers artful devices, and then fell into a  snare; will this therefore rescue him from punishment? I beseech thee, let us not deceive ourselves, and pretend  that we know not what is obvious to a mere child. For surely this pretence of ignorance will not be able to profit in  the day of reckoning. Thou wert not ambitious, thou sayest, of receiving this high office, conscious of thine own  weakness. Well and good. Then thou oughtest, with the same mind, to have declined the solicitation of others; or,  when no one called thee, wast thou weak and incapable, but when those were found ready to offer thee this  dignity, didst thou suddenly become competent? What ludicrous nonsense! worthy of the extremest punishment.  For this reason also the Lord counsels the man who wishes to build a tower, not to lay the foundation before he  has taken his own ability to build into account, lest he should give the passers by innumerable opportunities of  mocking at him.(1) But in his case the penalty only consists in becoming a laughing-stock; while in that before us  the punishment is that of fire unquenchable, and of an undying worm,(2) gnashing of teeth, outer darkness, and  being cut asunder,(3) and having a portion with the hypocrites.
    But my accusers are unwilling to consider any of these things. For otherwise they would cease to blame a person  who is unwilling to perish without cause. It is not the management of corn and barley, oxen or sheep, that is now  under our consideration, nor any such like matters, but the very Body of Jesus. For the Church of Christ, according  to St. Paul, is Christ's Body,(4) and he who is entrusted with' its care ought to train it up to a state of healthiness,  and beauty unspeakable, and to look  everywhere, lest any spot or wrinkle,(5) or other like blemish should mar its  vigor and comeliness. For what is this but to make it appear worthy, so far as human power can, of the  incorruptible and ever-blessed Head which is set over it? If they who are ambitious of reaching an athletic condition  of body need the help of physicians and trainers,(6) and exact diet, and constant exercise, and a thousand other  rules (for the omission of the merest trifle upsets and spoils the whole), how shall they to whose lot falls the care of  the body, which has its conflict not against flesh and blood, but against powers unseen, be able to keep it sound  and healthy, unless they far surpass ordinary human virtue, and are versed in all healing proper for the soul?
    3. Pray, art thou not aware that that body is subject to more diseases and assaults than this flesh of ours, is more  quickly corrupted, and more slow to recover? and by those who have the healing of these bodies, divers medicines  have been discovered, and an apparatus of different instruments, and diet suitable for the sick; and often the  condition of the atmosphere is of itself enough for the recovery of a sick man; and there are instances of  seasonable sleep having saved the physician all further labor. But in the case before us, it is impossible to take any  of these things into consideration; nay there is but one method and way of healing appointed, after we have gone  wrong, and that is, the powerful application of the Word. This is the one instrument, the only diet, the finest  atmosphere. This takes the place of physic, cautery and cutting, and if it be needful to sear and amputate, this is the  means which we must use, and if this be of no avail, all else is wasted; with this we both rouse the soul when it  sleeps, and reduce it when it is inflamed; with this we cut off excesses, and fill up defects, and perform all manner  of other operations which are requisite for the soul's health. Now as regards the ordering of our daily life for the  best, it is true that the life of another may provoke us to emulation. But in the matter of spurious doctrine, when  any soul is diseased thereby, then there is great need of the Word, not only in view of the safety of our own people,  but in view of the enemy without. If, indeed, one had the sword of the spirit, and the shield of faith,(7) so as to be  able to work miracles, and by means of these marvels to stop the mouths of impudent gainsayers, one would have  little need of the assistance of the Word; still in the days of miracles the Word was by no means useless, but  essentially necessary. For St. Paul made use of it himself, although he was everywhere so great an object of wonder  for this miracles; and another(8) of those who belonged to the "glorious company of the Apostles" exhorts us to  apply ourselves to acquiring this power, when he says: "Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh  you a reason concerning the hope that

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is in you," and they all, with one accord, committed the care of the poor widows to Stephen, for no other reason  than that they themselves might have leisure "for the ministry of the Word."(1) To this we ought equally to apply  ourselves, unless indeed we are endued with a power of working miracles. But if there is not the least sign of such a  power being left us, while on every side many enemies are constantly attacking us, why then it necessarily follows  that we should arm ourselves with this weapon, both in order that we may not be wounded ourselves with the darts  of the enemy, and in order that we may wound him.
    4. Wherefore it should be our ambition that the Word of Christ dwell in us richly.(2) For it is not for one kind of  battle only that we have to be prepared. This warfare is manifold, and is engaged with a great variety of enemies;  neither do all these use the same weapons, nor do they practice the same method of attack; and he who has to join  battle with all, must needs know the artifices of all, and be at once both archer and slinger, captain and general, in  the ranks and in command, on foot and on horseback, in sea-fight and in siege. In common warfare, indeed, each  man repels the enemy by discharging the particular duty which he has undertaken. But here it is otherwise; and if  any one wishes to come off conqueror in this warfare, he must understand all forms of the art, as the devil knows  well how to introduce his own assailants through any one spot which may happen to be unguarded, and to carry off  the sheep. But not so where he perceives the shepherd coming equipped with accurate knowledge at all points, and  well acquainted with his plottings. Wherefore we ought to be well-guarded in all parts: for a city, so long as it  happens to be surrounded with a wall, laughs to scorn the besiegers, abiding in great security; but if any one makes  a breach in the wall, though but of the size of a gate, the rest of the circuit is of no use, although the whole of it  stand quite securely; so it is with the city of God: so long as the presence of mind and wisdom of the shepherd,  which answers to the wall, protect it on all sides, all the enemy's devices end in his confusion and ridicule, and they  who dwell within the wall abide unmolested, but wherever any one has been able to demolish a single part, though  the rest stand never so fast, through that breach ruin will enter upon the whole. For to what purpose does a man  contend earnestly with the Greeks, if at the same time he becomes a prey to the Jews? or get the better of both  these and then fall into the clutches of the Manichaeans?(3) or after he has proved himself superior to them even, if  they who introduce fatalism(4) enter in, and make havoc of the flock? But not to enumerate all the heresies of the  devil, it will be enough to say that unless the shepherd is well skilled in refuting them all, the wolf, by means of any  one of them, can enter, and devour the greater part of the flock. In ordinary warfare we must always look for  victory being won or defeat sustained by the soldiers who are on the field of battle. But in the spiritual warfare the  case is quite different. For there it often happens that the combat with one set of enemies secures a victory for  others who never engaged in battle at all, nor took any trouble,   but were sitting still all the while; and he who has  not much experience in such occurrences will get pierced, so to say, with his own sword, and become the  laughing-stock of friends and foes alike. I will try by an example to make clear what I am saying. They who receive  the wild doctrines of Valentinus and Marcion,(5) and of all whose minds are similarly diseased, exclude the Law  given by God to Moses from the catalogue of the Divine Scriptures. But Jews so revere the Law, that although the  time has come which annuls it, they still contend for the observance of all its contents, contrary to the purpose of  God. But the Church of God, avoiding either extreme, has trodden a middle path, and is neither induced on the  one hand to place herself under its yoke, nor on the other does she tolerate its being slandered, but commends it,  though its day is over, because of its profitableness while its season lasted. Now it is necessary for him who is going  to fight with both these enemies,(6) to be fully conversant with this middle course, For if in wishing to teach the  Jews that they are out of date in clinging to the old law, he begins to find fault with it unsparingly, he gives no little  handle to those heretics who wish to pull it to pieces; and if in his ambition to stop their mouths he extols it  immoderately, and speaks of it with admiration, as

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necessary for this present time, he unseals the lips of the Jews. Again they who labor under the frenzy of Sabellius  and the craze of Arius,(1) have both fallen from a sound faith for want of observing a middle course. The name of  Christian is applied to both these heretics; but if any one examines their doctrines, he will find the one sect not  much better than the Jews, and differing from them only in name, and the other(2) very nearly holding the heresy  of Paul of Samosata,(3) and that both are very wide of the truth. Great, therefore, is the danger in such cases, and  the way of orthodoxy is narrow and hemmed in by threatening crags on either side, and there is no little fear, test  when intending to strike at one enemy we should be wounded by the other. For if any one assert the unity of the  Godhead, Sabellius straightway turns that expression to the advantage of his own mental vagary,(4) and if he  distinguish the Persons, and say that the Father is one, and the Son another, and the Holy Spirit a third, up gets  Arius, ready to wrest that distinction of Persons into a difference of substance;(5) so we must turn and flee both  from the impious confounding of the Persons by the one, and the senseless division of the substance by the other,  confessing, indeed, that the Godhead of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, while we add  thereunto a Trinity of Persons. For then we shall be able to fortify ourselves against the attacks of both heretics. I  might tell thee besides these, of several other adversaries against which, except we contend bravely and carefully,  we shall leave the field covered with wounds.
    5. Why should any one describe the silly chatter of our own people? For these are not less than the attacks upon  us from without, while they give the teacher even more trouble. Some out of an idle curiosity are rashly bent upon  busying themselves about matters which are neither possible for them to know, nor of any advantage to them if  they could know them. Others again demand from God an account of his judgments, and force themselves to  sound the depth of that abyss which is unfathomable. "For thy judgments," saith the Scriptures, "are a great  deep,"(6) and about their faith and practice thou wouldest find few of them anxious, but the majority curiously  inquiring into matters which it is not possible to discover, and the mere inquiry into which provokes God. For  when we make a determined effort to learn what He does not wish us to know, we fail to succeed (for how should  we succeed against the will of God?); and there only remains for us the danger arising from our inquiry. Now,  though this be the case, whenever any one authoritatively stops the search, into such fathomless depths, he gets  himself the reputation of being proud and ignorant; so that at such times much tact is needed on the Bishop's part,  so as to lead his people away from these unprofitable questions, and himself escape the above-named censures. In  short, to meet all these difficulties, there is no help given but that of speech, and if any be destitute of this power,  the souls of those who are put under his charge (I mean of the weaker and more meddlesome kind) are  no better  off than ships continually storm tossed. So that the Priest should do all that  in him lies, to gain this means of  strength.
    6. BASIL: "Why, then, was not St. Paul ambitious of becoming perfect in this art? He makes no secret of his  poverty of speech, but distinctly confesses himself to be unskilled, even telling the Corinthians so,(7) who were  admired for their eloquence, and prided themselves upon it."
    CHRYSOSTOM: This is the very thing which has ruined many and made them remiss in the study of true  doctrine. For while they failed to fathom the depths of the apostle's mind, and to understand the meaning of his  words, they passed all their time slumbering and yawning, and paying respect not to that ignorance which St. Paul  acknowledges, but to a kind from which he was as free as any man ever was in the world.
    But leaving this subject to await our consideration, I say this much in the meantime. Granting that St. Paul was  in this respect as unskilled as they would have him to be, what has that to do with the men of to-day? For he had a  greater power by far than power of speech, power which brought about greater results too; which was that his bare  presence, even though he was silent, was terrible to the

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demons. But the men of the present day, if they were all collected in one place, would not be able, with infinite  prayers and tears, to do the wonders that once were done by the handkerchief of St. Paul. He too by his prayers  raised the dead,(1) and wrought such other miracles, that he was held to be a god by heathen;(2) and before he was  removed from this life, he was thought worthy to be caught up as far as the third heaven, and to share in such  converse as it is not lawful for mortal ears to hear.(3) But the men of to-day--not that I would say anything harsh  or severe, for indeed I do not speak by way of insult to them, but only in wonder--how is it that they do not  shudder when they measure themselves with so great a man as this? For if we leave the miracles and turn to the life  of this blessed saint, and look into his angelic conversation, it is in this rather than in his miracles that thou wilt  find this Christian athlete a conqueror. For how can one describe his zeal and forbearance, his constant perils, his  continual cares, and incessant anxiety for the Churches; his sympathy with the weak, his many afflictions, his  unwonted persecutions, his deaths daily? Where is the spot in the world, where is the continent or sea, that is a  stranger to the labours of this righteous man? Even the desert has known his presence, for it often sheltered him in  time of danger. For he underwent every species of attack, and achieved every kind of victory, and there was never  any end to his contests and his triumphs.
    Yet, all unawares, I have been led to do this man an injury. For his exploits are beyond all powers of description,  and beyond mine in particular, just as the masters of eloquence surpass me. Nevertheless, since that holy apostle  will judge us, not by the issue, but by the motive, I shall not forbear till I have stated one more circumstance which  surpasses anything yet mentioned, as much as he himself surpasses all his fellow men. And what is this? After so  many exploits, after such a multitude of victories, he prayed that he might go into hell, and be handed over to  eternal punishment, if so be that those Jews, who had often stoned him, and done what they could to make away  with him, might be saved, and come over to Christ.(4) Now who so longed for Christ? If, indeed, his feelings  towards him ought not to be described as something nobler than longing; shall we then any more compare  ourselves with this saint, after so great grace was imparted to him from above, after so great virtue was manifested  in himself? What could be more presumptuous?
    Now, that he was not so unskilled, as some count him to be, I shall try to show in what follows. The unskilled  person in men's estimation is not only one who is unpracticed in the tricks of profane oratory,(5) but the man who  is incapable of contending for the defence of the right faith, and they are right. But St. Paul did not say that he was  unskilled in both these respects, but in one only; and in support of this he makes a careful distinction, saying that  he was "rude in speech, but not in knowledge."(6) Now were I to insist upon the polish of Isocrates, the weight of  Demosthenes, the dignity of Thucydides, and the sublimity of Plato, in any one bishop, St. Paul would be a strong  evidence against me. But I pass by all such matters and the elaborate ornaments of profane oratory; and I take no  account of style or of delivery; yea let a man's diction be poor and his composition simple and unadorned, but let  him not be unskilled in the knowledge and accurate statement of doctrine; nor in order to screen his own sloth,  deprive that holy apostle of the greatest of his gifts, and the sum of his praises.
    7. For how was it, tell me, that he confounded the Jews which dwelt at Damascus,(7) though he had not yet  begun to work miracles? How was it that he wrestled with the Grecians and threw them?(8) and why was he sent to  Tarsus? Was it not because he was so mighty and victorious in the word, and brought his adversaries to such a pass  that they, unable to brook their defeat, were provoked to seek his life? At that time, as I said, he had not begun to  work miracles, nor could any one say that the masses looked upon him with astonishment on account of any glory  belonging to his mighty works, or that they who contended with him were overpowered by the force of public  opinion concerning him. For at this time he conquered by dint of argument only. How was it, moreover, that he  contended and disputed successfully with those who tried to Judaize in Antioch? and how was it that that  Areopagite,(9) an inhabitant of Athens, that most devoted of all cities to the gods, followed the apostle, he and his  wife? was it not owing to the discourse which they heard? And when Eutychus(10) fell from the lattice, was it not  owing to his long attendance even until midnight to St. Paul's preaching? How do we find him employed at  Thessalonica and Corinth, in Ephesus and in Rome itself? Did he not spend whole nights and days in interpreting  the Scriptures in their order? and

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why should any one recount his disputes with the Epicureans and Stoics.(1) For were we resolved to enter into  every particular, our story would grow to an unreasonable length.
    When, therefore, both before working miracles, and after, St. Paul appears to have made much use of argument,  how can any one dare to pronounce him unskillful whose sermons and disputations were so exceedingly admired  by all who heard them? Why did the Lycaonians(2) imagine that he was Hermes? The opinion that he and  Barnabas were gods indeed, arose out of the sight of their miracles; but the notion that he was Hermes did not  arise from this, but was a consequence of his speech. In what else did this blessed saint excel the rest of the  apostles? and how comes it that up and down the world he is so much on every one's tongue? How comes it that  not merely among ourselves, but also among Jews and Greeks, he is the wonder of wonders? Is it not from the  power of his epistles? whereby not only to the faithful of to-day, but from his time to this, yea and up to the end,  even the appearing of Christ, he has been and will be profitable, and will continue to be so as long as the human  race shall last. For as a wall built of adamant, so his writings fortify all the Churches of the known world, and he as  a most noble champion stands in the midst, bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ,  casting down imaginations, and every high thing which exalts itself against the knowledge of God,(3) and all this he  does by those epistles which he has left to us full of wonders and of Divine wisdom. For his writings are not only  useful to us, for the overthrow of false doctrine and the confirmation of the true, but they help not a little towards  living a good life. For by the use of these, the bishops of the present day fit and fashion the chaste virgin, which St.  Paul himself espoused to Christ,(4) and conduct her to the state of spiritual beauty; with these, too, they drive away  from her the noisome pestilences which beset her, and preserve the good health thus obtained. Such are the  medicines and such their efficacy left us by this so-called unskillful man, and they know them and their power best  who constantly use them. From all this it is evident that St. Paul had given himself to the study of which we have  been speaking with great diligence and zeal.
    8. Hear also what he says in his charge to his disciple:(5) "Give heed to reading, to exhortation, to teaching," and  he goes on to show the usefulness of this by adding, "For in doing this thou shalt save both thyself and them that  hear thee."(6) And again he says, "The Lord's servant must not strive, but be gentle towards all, apt to teach,  forbearing;"(7) and he proceeds to say, "But abide thou in the things which thou hast learned, and hast been  assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them, and that from a babe thou hast known the sacred writings  which are able to make thee wise unto salvation,"(8) and again, "Every Scripture is inspired of God, and also  profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction which is in righteousness, that the man of God  may be complete."(9) Hear what he adds further in his directions to Titus about the appointment of bishops. "The  bishop," he says, "must be holding to the faithful word which is according to the teaching, that he may be able to  convict the gain-sayers."(10) But how shall any one who is unskillful as these men pretend, be able to convict the  gainsayers and stop their mouths? or what need is there to give attention to reading and to the Holy Scriptures, if  such a state of unskillfulness is to be welcome among us? Such arguments are mere makeshifts and pretexts, the  marks of idleness and sloth. But some one will say, "it is to the priests that these charges are given:"--certainly, for  they are the subjects of our discourse. But that the apostle gives the same charge to the laity, hear what he says in  another epistle to other than the priesthood: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom,"(11) and  again, "Let your speech be always with grace seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer each  one,"(12) and there is a general charge to all that they "be ready to"(13) render an account of their faith, and to the  Thessalonians, he gives the following command: "Build each other up, even as also ye do."(14) But when he speaks  of priests he says, "Let the elders that rule well be counted worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in  the word, and in teaching."(15) For this is the perfection of teaching when the teachers both by what they do, and  by what they say as well, bring their disciples to that blessed state of life which Christ appointed for them. For  example alone is not enough to instruct others. Nor do I say this of myself; it is our Saviour's own word. "For  whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great.(16) Now if doing were the same as teaching, the  second word here would be superfluous; and it had been enough to have said "whosoever shall

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do" simply. But now by distinguishing the two, he shows that practice is one thing, and doctrine another, and that  each needs the help of the others in order to complete edification. Thou hearest too what the chosen vessel of  Christ says to the Ephesian elders: "Wherefore watch ye, remembering that for the space of three years, I ceased  not to admonish every one, night and day, with tears."(1) But what need was there for his tears or for admonition  by word of mouth, while his life as an apostle was so illustrious? His holy life might be a great inducement to men  to keep the commandments, yet I dare not say that it alone could accomplish everything.
    9. But when a dispute arises concerning matters of doctrine, and all take their weapons from the same  Scriptures, of what weight will any one's life be able to prove? What then will be the good of his many austerities,  when after such painful exercises, any one from the Priest's great unskillfulness in argument fall into heresy, and  be cut off from the body of the Church, a misfortune which I have myself seen many suffering. Of what profit then  will his patience be to to him? None; no more than there will be in a sound faith if the life is corrupt. Wherefore,  for this reason more than for all others, it concerns him whose office it is to teach others, to be experienced in  disputations of this kind. For though he himself stands safely, and is unhurt by the gainsayers, yet the simple  multitude under his direction, when they see their leader defeated, and without any answer for the gainsayers, will  be apt to lay the blame of his discomfiture not on his own weakness, but on the doctrines themselves, as though  they were faulty; and so by reason of the inexperience of one, great numbers are brought to extreme ruin; for  though they do not entirely go over to the adversary, yet they are forced to doubt about matters in which formerly  they firmly believed, and those whom they used to approach with unswerving confidence, they are unable to hold  to any longer steadfastly, but in consequence of their leader's defeat, so great a storm settles down upon their  souls, that the mischief ends in their shipwreck altogether. But how dire is the destruction, and how terrible the fire  which such a leader brings upon his own wretched head for every soul which is thus lost, thou wilt not need to  learn from me, as thou knowest all this perfectly. Is this then pride, is this vainglory in me, to be unwilling to be  the cause of the destruction of so many souls? and of procuring for myself greater punishment in the world to  come, than that which now awaits me there? Who would say so? surely no one, unless he should wish to find fault  where there is none, and to moralize over other men's calamities.
    1. How great is the skill required for the teacher in contending earnestly for the truth, has been sufficiently set  forth by us. But I have to mention one more matter beside this, which is a cause of numberless dangers, though for  my own part I should rather say that the thing itself is not the cause, but they who know not how to use it rightly,  since it is of itself a help to salvation and to much good besides, whenever thou findest that earnest and good men  have the management of it. What then, do I mean by this? The expenditure of great labor upon the preparation of  discourses to be delivered in public. For to begin with, the majority of those who are under the preachers' charge  are not minded to behave towards them as towards teachers, but disdaining the part of learners, they assume  instead the attitude of those who sit and look on at the public games; and just as the multitude there is separated  into parties, and some attach themselves to one, and some to another, so here also men are divided, and become  the partisans now of this teacher, now of that, listening to them with a view to favor or spite. And not only is there  this hardship, but another quite as great. For if it has occurred to any preacher to weave into his sermons any part  of other men's works, he is exposed to greater disgrace than those who steal money. Nay, often where he has not  even borrowed anything from any one, but is only suspected, he has suffered the fate of a thief. And why do I  speak of the works of others when it is not permitted to him to use his own resources without variety? For the  public are accustomed to listen not for profit, but for pleasure, sitting like critics of tragedies, and of musical  entertainments, and that facility of speech against which we declaimed just now, in this case becomes desirable,  even more than in the case of barristers, where they are obliged to contend one against the other. A preacher then  should have loftiness of mind, far exceeding my own littleness of spirit, that he may correct this disorderly and  unprofitable pleasure on the part of the multitude, and be able to lead them over to a more useful way of hearing,  that his people may follow and yield to him, and that he may not be led away by their own humors, and this it is  not possible to arrive at, except by two means: indifference to their praise, and the power of preaching well.(1)
    2. For if either of these be lacking,the remaining one becomes useless, owing to its divorce   from the other, for  if a preacher be indifferent   to praise, and yet cannot produce the doctrine

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"which is with grace seasoned with salt,"(1) he becomes despised by the multitude, while he gains nothing from his  own nobleness of mind; and if on the other hand he is successful as a preacher, and is overcome by the thought of  applause, harm is equally done in turn, both to himself and the multitude, because in his desire for praise he is  careful to speak rather with a view to please than to profit. And as he who neither lets good opinion influence him,  nor is skillful in speaking, does not yield to the pleasure of the multitude, and is unable to do them any good worth  mentioning, because he has nothing to say, so he who is carried away with desire for praise, though he is able to  render the multitude better service, rather provides in place of this such food as will suit their taste, because he  purchases thereby the tumult of acclamation.
    3. The best kind of Bishop must, therefore, be strong in both these points, so that neither may supplant the  other. For if when he stands up in the congregation and speaks words calculated to make the careless wince,(2) he  then stumbles, and stops short, and is forced to blush at his failure, the good of what he has spoken is immediately  wasted. For they who are rebuked, being galled by what has been told them, and unable to avenge themselves on  him otherwise, taunt him, with jeers at this ignorance of his, thinking to screen their own reproach thereby.  Wherefore he ought, like some very good charioteer, to come to an accurate judgment about both these good  things, in order that he may be able to deal with both as he may have need; for when he is irreproachable in the  eyes of all, then he will be able, with just so much authority as he wishes, both to correct and to remit from  correction all those who are under his rule. But without this it will not be easy for him to do so. But this nobleness  of soul should be shown not only up to the limit of indifference to praise, but should go further in order that the  gain thus gotten may not in its turn be fruitless.
    4. To what else ought he then to be indifferent? Slander and envy. Unseasonable evil speaking,(3) however (for  of course the Bishop undergoes some groundless censure), it is well that he should neither fear nor tremble at  excessively, nor entirely pass over; but we ought, though it happen to be false, or to be brought against us by the  common herd, to try and extinguish it immediately. For nothing so magnifies both an evil and a good report as the  undisciplined mob. For accustomed to hear and to speak without stopping to make inquiry, they repeat at random  everything which comes in their way, without any regard to the truth of it. Therefore the Bishop ought not to be  unconcerned about the multitude, but straightway to nip their evil surmisings in the bud; persuading his accusers,  even if they be the most unreasonable of all men, and to omit nothing which is able to dispel an ill-favored report.  But if, when we do all this, they who blame us will not be persuaded, thenceforward we should give them no  concern. Since if any one be too quick to be dejected by these accidents, he will not be able at any time to produce  anything noble and admirable. For despondency and constant cares are mighty for destroying the powers of the  mind, and for reducing it to extreme weakness. Thus then must the Priest behave towards those in his charge, as a  father would behave to his very young children; and as such are not disturbed either by their insults or their blows,  or their lamentations, nor even if they laugh and rejoice with us, do we take much account of it; so should we  neither be puffed up by the promises of these persons nor cast down at their censure, when it comes from them  unseasonably. But this is hard, my good friend; and perhaps, methinks, even impossible. For I know not whether  any man ever succeeded in the effort not to be pleased when he is praised, and the man who is pleased at this is  likely also to desire to enjoy it, and the man who desires to enjoy it will, of necessity, be altogether vexed and  beside himself whenever he misses it. For as they who revel in being rich, when they fall into poverty are grieved,  and they who have been used to live luxuriously cannot bear to live shabbily; so, too, they who long for applause,  not only when they are blamed without a cause, but when they are not constantly being praised, become, as by  some famine, wasted in soul, particularly when they happen themselves to have been used to praise, or if they hear  others being praised. He who enters upon the trial of preaching with desires of this kind, how many annoyances  and how many pangs dost thou think that he has?  It is no more possible for the sea to be without waves than that  man to be without cares and grief.
    5. For though the preacher may have great ability (and this one would only find in a few), not even in this case is  he released from perpetual toil. For since preaching does not come by nature, but by study, suppose a man to reach  a high standard of it, this will then forsake him if he does not cultivate his power by constant application and  exercise. So that there is greater labor for the wiser than for the

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unlearned. For there is not the same degree of loss attending negligence on the part of the one and the other, but  the loss is in exact proportion to the difference between the two possessions. For the latter(1) no one would blame,  as they furnish nothing worth regarding. But the former, unless they are constantly producing matter beyond the  reputation in which all hold them, great censure attends on all hands; and besides these things, the latter would  meet with considerable praise, even for small performances, while the efforts of the former, unless they be  specially wonderful and startling, not only fail to win applause, but meet with many fault-finders. For the audience  set themselves to be critics, not so much in judgment of what is said as of the reputation of the speaker, so that  whenever any one excels all others in oratorical powers, then especially of all others does he need laborious study.  For this man is not allowed to avail himself of the usual plea which human nature urges, that one cannot succeed in  everything; but if his sermons do not throughout correspond to the greatness of the expectations formed, he will go  away without having gained anything but countless jeers and censures; and no one takes this into consideration  about him, that dejection and pain, and anxiety, and often anger, may step in, and dim the clearness of his  thoughts and prevent his productions from coming from him unalloyed,(2) and that on the whole, being but a  man, he cannot be constantly the same, nor at all times acquit himself successfully, but naturally must sometimes  fall short of the mark, and appear on a lower level of ability than usual. None of these things, as I said, are they  willing to take into consideration, but charge him with faults as if they were sitting in judgment on an angel;  though in other cases, too, a man is apt to overlook the good performances of his neighbor, though they be many  and great, and if anywhere a defect appears, even if it be accidental, even if it only occur at long intervals, it is  quickly perceived, and always remembered, and thus small and trifling matters have often lessened the glory of  many and great doings.
    6. Thou seest, my excellent friend, that the man who is powerful in preaching has peculiar need of greater study  than others; and besides study, of forbearance also greater than what is needed by all those whom I have already  mentioned. For thus are many constantly springing up against him, in a vain and senseless spirit, and having no  fault to find with him, but that he is generally approved of, hate him; and he must bear their bitter malice nobly,  for as they are not able to hide this cursed hatred, which they so unreasonably entertain, they both revile, and  censure, and slander in private, and defame in public, and the mind which has begun to be pained and exasperated,  on every one of these occasions, will not escape being corrupted by grief. For they will not only revenge themselves  upon him by their own acts, but will try to do so by means of others, and often having chosen some one of those  who are unable to speak a word, will extol him with their praises and admire him beyond his worth. Some do this  through ignorance alone,(3) some through ignorance and envy, in order that they may ruin the reputation of the  other, not that they may prove the man to be wonderful who is not so, and the noble-minded man has not only to  struggle against these, but often against the ignorance of the whole multitude; for since it is not possible that all  those who come together should consist of learned men, but the chances are that the larger part of the  congregation is composed of unlearned people, and that even the rest, who are clearer headed than they, fall as far  short of being able to criticize sermons as the remainder again fall short of them; so that only one or two are seated  there who possess this power; it follows, of necessity, that he who preaches better than others carries away less  applause, and possibly goes home without being praised at all, and he must be prepared to meet such anomalies  nobly, and to pardon those who commit them in ignorance, and to weep for those who acquiesce in them on  account of envy as wretched and pitiable creatures, and not to consider that his powers have become less on either  of these accounts. For if a man, being a pre-eminently good painter, and superior to all in his art, sees the portrait  which he has drawn with great accuracy held up to ridicule, he ought not to be dejected, and to consider the picture  poor, because of the judgment of the ignorant; as he would not consider the drawing that is really poor to be  something wonderful and lovely, because of the astonishment of the inartistic.
    7. For let the best artificer be himself the critic of his own designs, and let his performances be determined to be  good or poor, according as the mind which designed them gives sentence upon them. But let him not even consider  the opinion, so erroneous and inartistic, of the outside world. Let, therefore, the man who undertakes the strain of

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teaching never give heed to the good opinion of the outside world, nor be dejected in soul on account of such  persons; but laboring at his sermons so that he may please God, (For let this alone be his rule and determination,  in discharging this best kind of workmanship, not acclamation, nor good opinions,) if, indeed, he be praised by  men, let him not repudiate their applause, and when his hearers do not offer this, let him not seek it, let him not  be grieved. For a sufficient consolation in his labors, and one greater than all, is when he is able to be conscious of  arranging and ordering his teaching with a view to pleasing God.
    8. For if he be first carried away with the desire for indiscriminate praise, he will reap no advantage from his  labors, or from his power in preaching, for the mind being unable to bear the senseless censures of the multitude is  dispirited, and casts aside all earnestness about preaching. Therefore it is especially necessary to be trained to be  indifferent to all kinds of praise. For to know how to preach is not enough for the preservation of that power, if  this be not added: and if any one would examine accurately the man who is destitute of this art, he will find that he  needs to be indifferent to praise no less than the other,(1) for he will be forced to do many wrong things in placing  himself under the control of popular opinion. For not having the energy to equal those who are in repute for the  quality of their preaching, he will not refrain from forming ill designs against them, from envying them, and from  blaming them without reason, and from many such discreditable practices, but will venture everything, even if it be  needful to ruin his own soul, for the sake of bringing down their fame to the level of his own insignificance. And in  addition to this, he will leave off his exertions about his work; a kind of numbness, as it were, spreading itself over  his mind. For much toil, rewarded by scanty praise, is sufficient to cast down a man who cannot despise praise, and  put him into a deep lethargy, since the husbandman even when he spends time over some sorry piece of land, and  is forced to till a rock, quickly desists from his work, unless he is possessed of much earnestness about the matter,  or has a fear of famine impending over him. For if they who are able to speak with considerable power, need such  constant exercise for the preservation of their talent, he who collects no materials at all, but is forced in the midst  of his efforts to meditate; what difficulty, what confusion, what trouble will he experience, in order that he may be  able at great labor to collect a few ideas! and if any of those clergy who are under his authority, and who are placed  in the inferior order, be able in that position to appear. to better advantage than he; what a divine mind must he  have, so as not to be seized with envy or cast down by despondency. For, for one to be placed in a station of higher  dignity, and to be surpassed by his inferior in rank, and to bear this nobly, would not be the part of any ordinary  mind, nor of such as my own, but of one as hard as adamant; and if, indeed, the man who is in greater repute be  very for-bearing and modest, the suffering becomes so much the more easily borne. But if he is bold and boastful  and vainglorious, a daily death would be desirable for the other; he will so embitter his life, insulting him to his  face, and laughing at him behind his back, wresting much of his authority from him, and wishing to be everything  himself. But he is possessed of the greatest security, in all these circumstances, who has fluency in preaching, and  the earnest attention of the multitude about him, and the affection of all those who are under his charge. Dost not  thou know what a passion for sermons has burst in upon the minds of Christians now-a-days? and that they who  practice themselves in preaching are in especial honor, not only among the heathen, but among them of the  household of the faith? How then could any one bear such disgrace as to find that all are mute when he is  preaching, and think that they are oppressed, and wait for the end of the sermon, as for some release from work;  while they listen to another with eagerness though he preach long, and are sorry when he is about to conclude; and  almost angry when it is his purpose to be silent. If these matters seem to thee to be small, and easily to be  despised, it is because of thine inexperience. They are truly enough to quench zeal, and to paralyze the powers of  the mind, unless a man withdraw himself from all human passions, and study to frame his conduct after the  pattern of those incorporeal powers, who are neither pursued by envy, nor by longing for fame, nor by any other  morbid feeling. If then there be any man so constituted as to be able to subdue this wild beast, so difficult to  capture, so unconquerable, so fierce; that is to say, public fame, and to cut off its many heads, or rather to forbid  their growth altogether; he will easily be able to repel these many violent assaults, and to enjoy a kind of quiet  haven of rest. But he who has not freed himself from this monster, involves his soul in struggles of various kinds,  and perpetual agitation, and the burden both of despondency and of other passions. But why need I detail the rest  of these difficulties, which no one will be able to describe, or to learn unless he has had actual experience of them.
    1. Our condition here, indeed, is such as thou hast heard. But our condition hereafter how shall we endure,  when we are compelled to give our account for each of those who have been entrusted to us? For our penalty is not  limited to shame, but everlasting chastisement awaits us as well. As for the passage, "Obey them that have the rule  over you, and submit to them, for they watch in behalf of your souls as they that shall give account;(1) though I  have mentioned it once already, yet I will break silence about it now, for the fear of its warning is continually  agitating my soul. For if for him who causes one only, and that the least, to stumble, it is profitable that "a great  millstone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be sunk in the depth of the sea;"(2) and if they who  wound the consciences of the brethren, sin against Christ Himself,(3) what then will they one day suffer, what  kind of penalty will they pay, who destroy not one only, or two, or three, but so many multitudes? For it is not  possible for inexperience to be urged as an excuse, nor to take refuge in ignorance, nor for the plea of necessity or  force to be put forward. Yea, if it were possible, one of those under their charge could more easily make use of this  refuge for his own sins than bishops in the case of the sins of others. Dost thou ask why? Because he who has been  appointed to rectify the ignorance of others, and to warn them beforehand of the conflict with the devil which is  coming upon them, will not be able to put forward ignorance as his excuse, or to say, "I have never heard the  trumpet sound, I did not foresee the conflict." For he is set for that very purpose, says Ezekiel, that he may sound  the trumpet for others, and warn them of the dangers at hand. And therefore his chastisement is inevitable, though  he that perishes happen to be but one. "For if when the sword comes, the

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watchman does not sound the trumpet to the people, nor give them a sign, and the sword come and take any man  away, he indeed is taken away on account of his iniquity, but his blood will I require at the watchman's hands."(1)
    2. Cease then to urge us on to a penalty so inevitable; for our discourse is not about an army, or a kingdom; but  about an office which needs the virtues of an angel. For the soul of the Priest ought to be purer than the very  sunbeams, in order that the Holy Spirit may not leave him desolate, in order that he may be able to say, "Now I  live; and yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me."(2) For if they who dwell in the desert, and are removed far from  the city and the market-place, and the tumult therein, and who enjoy all their time a haven of rest, and of  peacefulness, are not willing to rely on the security of that manner of life, but add to it numberless other  safeguards, hedging themselves round on every side, and studying both to speak and to act with great  circumspection, so that to the utmost extent of human power they may draw near to God with assurance, and with  unstained purity, what power and strength, thinkest thou, does the ordained Priest need so as to be able to tear his  soul away from every defilement, and to keep its spiritual beauty unsullied? For he has need of far greater purity  than they; and whoever has need of greater purity, he too is subject to more pressing temptations than they, which  are able to defile him, unless by using constant self-denial and much labor, he renders his soul inaccessible to them.  For beauty of face, elegance of movement, an affected gait and lisping voice, pencilled eyebrows and enamelled  cheeks, elaborate braiding and dyeing of hair, costliness of dress, variety of golden ornaments, and the glory of  precious stones, the scent of perfumes, and all those other matters to which womankind devote themselves, are  enough to disorder the mind, unless it happen to be hardened against them, through much austerity of self  restraint. Now to be disturbed indeed by such things is nothing wonderful. But on the other hand, that the devil  should be able to hit and shoot down the souls of men by the opposite of these--this is a matter which fills us with  astonishment and perplexity.
    3. For ere now some men who have escaped these snares, have been caught by others widely differing from  these. For even a neglected appearance, unkempt hair, squalid dress, and an unpainted face, simple behavior, and  homely language, unstudied gait, and unaffected voice, a life of poverty, a despised, unpatronized and lonely  condition, have first drawn on the beholder to pity, and next to utter ruin; and many who have escaped the former  nets, in the way of gold ornaments and perfumes, and apparel, and all the rest, of which I have spoken as  connected with them, have easily fallen into these so widely differing from them, and have perished. When then  both by poverty and by riches, both by the adornment and the neglect of the personal appearance, both by studied  and unaffected manners, in short by all those means which I have enumerated, war is kindled in the soul of the  beholder, and its artifices surround him on every side, how will he be able to breathe freely while so many snares  encompass him? and what hiding-place will he be able to find--I do not say so as to avoid being forcibly seized by  them (for this is not altogether difficult)--but so as to keep his own soul undisturbed by polluting thoughts?
    And I pass by honors, which are the cause of countless evils. For those which come from the hands of women  are ruinous to the vigor of self-restraint, and often overthrow it when a. man does not know how to watch  constantly against such designs; while those which come from the hands of men, unless a man receive them with  much nobleness of mind, he is seized with two contrary emotions, servile flattery and senseless pride. To those  who  patronize him, he is obliged to cringe; and towards his inferiors he is puffed up, on account of the honors  which the others confer, and is driven into the gulf of arrogance. We have mentioned these matters indeed, but  how harmful they actually are, no one could well learn without experience. For not only these snares, but greater  and more delusive than these, he must needs encounter, who has his conversation in the world. But he who is  content with solitude, has freedom from all this, and if at any time a strange thought creates a representation of  this kind, the image is weak, and capable of being speedily subdued, because there is no fuel added to the flame  from without, arising from actual sight. For the recluse has but himself to fear for; or should he be forced to have  the care of others they are easily counted: and if they be many, yet they are less than those in our Churches, and  they give him who is set over them much lighter anxiety about them, not only on account of their fewness, but  because they are all free from worldly concerns, and have neither wife nor children, nor any such thing to care  about; and this makes them very deferential to their rulers, and allows them to share the same abode with them, so  that they are able to take in their failings accurately at a glance and correct them, seeing that the constant

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supervision of a teacher is no little help towards advance in virtue.
    4. But of those who are subject to the Priest, the greater number are hampered with the cares of this life, and  this makes them the slower in the performance of spiritual duties. Whence it is necessary for the teacher to sow  every day (so to speak), in order that by its frequency at least, the word of doctrine may be able to be grasped by  those who hear. For excessive wealth, and an abundance of power, and sloth the offspring of luxury, and many  other things beside these, choke the seeds which have been let fall. Often too the thick growth of thorns does not  suffer the seed to drop even upon the surface of the soil. Again, excess of trouble, stress of poverty, constant  insults, and other such things, the reverse of the foregoing, take the mind away from anxiety about things divine;  and of their people's  sins, not even the smallest part can become   apparent; for how should it, in the case of those  the majority of whom they do not know even by sight?
    The Priest's relations with his people involve thus much difficulty. But if any inquire   about his relations with  God, he will find the   others to be as nothing, since these require  a greater and more thorough earnestness. For   he who acts as an ambassador on behalf of the whole city--but why do I say the city? on behalf of the whole world  indeed--prays that God would be merciful to the sins of all, not only of the living, but also of the departed.(1) What  manner of man ought he to be? For my part I think that the boldness of speech of Moses and Elias, is insufficient  for such supplication. For as though he were entrusted with the whole world and were himself the father of all  men, he draws near to God, beseeching that wars may be extinguished everywhere, that tumults may be quelled;  asking for peace and plenty, and a swift deliverance from all the ills that beset each one, publicly and privately; and  he ought as much to excel in every respect all those on whose behalf he prays, as rulers should excel their subjects.
    And whenever he invokes the Holy Spirit, and offers the most dread sacrifice, and constantly handles the  common Lord of all, tell me what rank shall we give him? What great purity and what real piety must we demand  of him? For consider what manner of hands they ought to be which minister in these things, and of what kind his  tongue which utters such words,(2) and ought not the soul which receives so great a spirit to be purer and holier  than anything in the world? At such a time angels stand by the Priest; and the whole sanctuary, and the space  round about the altar, is filled with the powers of heaven, in honor of Him who lieth thereon. For this, indeed, is  capable of being proved from the very rites which are being then celebrated. I myself, moreover, have heard some  one once relate, that a certain aged, venerable man, accustomed to see revelations, used to tell him, that he being  thought worthy of a vision of this kind, at such a time, saw, on a sudden, so far as was possible for him, a multitude  of angels, clothed in shining robes, and encircling the altar, and bending down, as one might see soldiers in the  presence of their King, and for my part I believe it. Moreover another told me, without learning it from some one  else, but as being himself thought worthy to be both an ear and eye witness of it, that, in the case of those who are  about to depart hence, if they happen to be partakers of the mysteries, with a pure conscience, when they are about  to breathe their last, angels keep guard over them for the sake of what they have received, and bear them hence.  And dost thou not yet tremble to introduce a soul into so sacred a mystery of this kind, and to advance to the  dignity of the Priesthood, one robed in filthy raiment, whom Christ has shut out from the rest of the band of  guests?(3) The soul of the Priest should shine like a light beaming over the whole world. But mine has so great  darkness overhanging it, because of my evil conscience, as to be always cast down and never able to look up with  confidence to its Lord. Priests are the salt of the earth.(4) But who would easily put up with my lack of  understanding, and my inexperience in all things, but thou, who hast been wont to love me beyond measure. For  the Priest ought not only to be thus pure as one who has been dignified with so high a ministry, but very discreet,  and skilled in many matters, and to be as well versed in the affairs of this life as they who are engaged in the world,  and yet to be free from them all more than the recluses who occupy the mountains. For since he must mix with  men who have wives, and who bring up children, who possess servants, and are surrounded with

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wealth, and fill public positions, and are persons of influence, he too should be a many-sided man--I say  many-sided, not unreal, nor yet fawning and hypocritical, but full of much freedom and assurance, and knowing  how to adapt himself profitably, where the circumstances of the case require it, and to be both kind and severe, for  it is not possible to treat all those under one's charge on one plan, since neither is it well for physicians to apply  one course of treatment to all their sick, nor for a pilot to know but one way of contending with the winds. For,  indeed, continual storms beset this ship of ours, and these storms do not assail from without only, but take their  rise from within, and there is need of much condescension, and circumspection, and all these different matters  have one end in view, the glory of God, and the edifying of the Church.
    5. Great is the conflict which recluses undergo, and much their toil. But if any one compare their exertions with  those which the right exercise of the Priesthood involves, he will find the difference as great as the distance between  a king and a commoner. For there, if the labor is great indeed, yet the conflict is common to body and soul, or  rather the greater part of it is accomplished by the condition of the body, and if this be not strong, the inclination  remains undeveloped, and is unable to come out into action. For the habit of intense fasting, and sleeping on the  ground, and keeping vigil, and refraining from the bath, and great toil, and all other means which they use for the  affliction of the body are given up, when the body to be thus disciplined is not strong. But in this case purity of soul  is the business in hand, and no bodily vigor is required to show its excellence. For what does strength of body  contribute towards our being not self-willed, or proud, or headstrong, but sober and prudent, and orderly, and all  else, wherein St. Paul filled up the picture of the perfect Priest? But no one could say this of the virtues of the  recluse.
    6. But as in the case of wonder-workers, a large apparatus is required, both wheels and ropes and daggers; while  the philosopher has the whole of his art stored up in his mind,not requiring any external appliances: So accordingly  in the case before us. The recluse requires both a good condition of body, and a place suitable for his course of life,  in order that such may not be settled too far from intercourse with their fellow men, and may have the tranquillity  which belongs to desert places, and yet further, may not fail to enjoy the most favorable climate. For nothing is so  unbearable to a body worn with fastings as a climate which is not equable. And what trouble they are compelled to  take in the preparation of their clothing and daily food, as they are themselves ambitious of doing all with their  own hands, I need not speak of now. But the Priest will re quire none of these things to supply his wants, I but is  unconcerned about them, and participates in all things which are harmless, while he has all his skill stored up in the  treasure-house of his mind. But if any one admire a solitary life, and retirement from the society of the multitude,  I should say myself that such a life was a token of patience, but not a sufficient proof of entire fortitude of soul. For  the man who sits at the helm in harbor, does not yet give any certain proof of his art. But if one is able to guide his  ship safely in the   midst of the sea, no one would deny him to be an excellent steersman.
  7. It would be, therefore, in no wise excessively surprising to us, that the recluse, living as he does by himself, is  undisturbed and does not commit many and great sins. For he does not meet with things which irritate and excite  his mind. But if any one who has devoted himself to whole multitudes, and has been compelled to bear the sins of  many, has remained steadfast and firm, guiding his soul in the midst of the storm as if he were in a calm, he is the  man to be justly applauded and admired of all, for he has shown sufficient proof of personal manliness. Do not  thou, therefore, for thy part wonder if I, who avoid the market-place and the haunts of the multitude, have not  many to accuse me. For I ought not to wonder, if I sinned not when asleep, nor fell when I did not wrestle, nor  was hit if I did not fight. For who, tell me, who will be able to speak against me, and reveal my depravity? Can this  roof or cell? Nay, they would not be able to give tongue? Would my mother, who best of all knows my affairs? Well,  certainly with her I am neither in communication, nor have we ever come to a quarrel, and if this had happened,  no mother is so heartless and wanting in affection for her child as to revile and accuse before all him whom she  travailed with, and brought forth, and reared, if there were no reason to constrain her, nor any person to urge her  to such an act. Nevertheless, if any one desires to make a careful inspection of my mind, he will discover much  which is corrupt there. Nor art thou unaware of this who art specially wont to extol me with

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praises before all. Now that I do not say these things out of mere modesty, recollect how often I said to thee, when  this subject   was being discussed between us, "If any one were to give me my choice whether I would rather gain  distinction in the oversight of the Church, or in the life of the recluse, I would vote a thousand times over for  accepting the former. For I have never failed to congratulate those who have been able to discharge this office well,  and no one will gainsay that what I counted blessed I would not have shunned were I able to take part in it filly.  But what am I to do? There is nothing so prejudicial to the oversight of the Church as this inactivity and negligence  of mine, which others think to be a sort of self-discipline, but which I hold to be a veil as it were of my personal  infirmity, covering the greater number of my defects and not suffering them to appear. For he who is accustomed  to enjoy such great freedom from business, and to pass his time in much repose, even if he be of a noble nature, is  confused by his inexperience, and is disturbed, and his inactivity deprives him of no small part of his natural ability.  But when, besides, he is of slow intellect, and ignorant also of these severe trials, which I take it is my case, he will  carry on this ministry which he has received no better than a statue. Wherefore of those who have come to such  great trial, out of that school, few shine; and the greater part betray themselves, and fall, and undergo much  hardship and sufferings; and no wonder. For the trials and the discipline are not concerned with the same things.  The man who is contending in no wise differs from those who are untrained. He who thus enters this list should  despise glory, be superior to anger, full of great discretion. But for the exercise of these qualities there is no scope  in his case who affects a secluded life. For he does not have many to provoke him in order that he may practise  chastising, the force of his anger: nor admirers and applauders in order that he may be trained to despise the  praises of the multitudes. And of the discretion which is required in the Church, there is no taking account in their  case. Whenever, therefore, they come to the trials of which they have never had practical experience, they get  bewildered, their heads are turned, they fall into a state of helplessness, and besides adding nothing to their  excellence, may have often lost that which they brought with them.
    8. BASIL: What then? shall we set over the administration of the Church those who move in society, and who  are careful about the concerns of this world, who are adepts at wrangling and vituperation, are full of countless  artifices, and versed in luxurious ways?
    CHRYSOSTOM: Hush, dear friend that thou art! Thou shouldest never entertain in thy thoughts such men as  these, when the Priesthood is under discussion, but only such as are able after mixing and associating with all, to  keep their purity undefiled, and their unworldliness, their holiness, constancy and sobriety unshaken, and to  possess all other virtues which belong to recluses, in a greater degree than they. He who has many defects, but is  able to hide them, by means of his seclusion, and to make them ineffectual, because he does not associate with any  one, when he comes into society will gain nothing, but the position of a laughing-stock, and will run greater risks  still, which I was very nearly experiencing myself, had not the providence of God quickly warded off such fire from  my head. For it is not possible for one in such a position to escape notice when he is so conspicuously placed, but  everything then is detected, and as the fire tests the material of metals, so too the trial of the clerical office searches  the souls of mortal men; and if any one be passionate or mean, or ambitious of fame, if he be boastful, or anything  else of the kind, it unveils all; and speedily lays bare his defects, and not only lays them bare, but increases their  painfulness and strength. For the wounds of the body, if they are galled, become harder to heal, and the emotions  of the mind when chafed and irritated, are naturally more exasperated, and those who possess them are driven to  commit greater sins. For they excite him who does not restrain them, to love of glory, and to boastfulness, and to  desire for this world's goods, and draw him downwards, both to luxury and laxity of life, and to laziness, and, little  by little, to evils worse than these which result from them. For many are the circumstances in society which have  the power to upset the balance of the mind, and to hinder its straightforward course;(1) and first of all is his social  intercourse with women. For it is not possible for the Bishop, and one who is concerned with the whole flock, to  have a care for the male portion of it, but to pass over the female, which needs more particular forethought,  because of its propensity to sins. But the man who is appointed to the administration of a Bishopric must have a  care for the moral health of these, if not in a greater, at least in no less a degree than the others. For it is necessary  to visit them when they are sick, to comfort them when they are sorrowful, and to reprove them when they are  idle,

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and to help them when they are distressed; and in such cases the evil one would find many opportunities of  approach, if a man did not fortify himself with a very strict guard. For the eye, not only of the unchaste, but of the  modest woman pierces and disturbs the mind. Flatteries enervate it, and favors enslave it, and fervent love--the  spring one may say of all good--becomes the cause of countless evils to those who do not make a right use of it.  Constant cares too have ere now blunted the edge of the understanding, and have made that which was buoyant  heavier than lead, while anger has burst in like smoke, and taken possession of all the inner man.
    9. Why should any one speak of the injuries that result from grief,(2) the insults, the abuse, the censure from  superiors, from inferiors, from the wise, and from fools; for the class who are wanting in right judgment are  particularly fond of censuring, and will never readily allow any excuse. But the truly excellent Bishop ought neither  to think lightly   of these, but to clear himself with all men of the charges which they bring against him, with great  forbearance and meekness, pardoning   their unreasonable fault-finding, rather than being indignant and angry  about it. For if St. Paul feared lest he should incur a suspicion of theft, among his disciples, and therefore procured  others for the management of the money, that "no one" he says, "should blame us in this abundance which is  administered by us,(2) how ought we not to do all so as to remove evil suspicions, even if they happen to be false,  and most unreasonable, and very foreign to our thought? For we are not so utterly removed from any sin as St.  Paul from theft; notwithstanding, though so far from this evil practice, he did not, therefore, slight the suspicion of  the world, although it was very absurd, and even insane. For it was madness to have any such suspicion about that  blessed and admirable character. But none the less does he remove far off the causes of this suspicion,  unreasonable though it was, and such as no one who was in his senses would entertain, and he neither disdained  the folly of the multitudes, nor did he say, "To whose mind did it ever occur to suspect such things of us, after the  signs which I have wrought, and the forbearance which has marked my life, and when you all revered and admired  us?" Quite the contrary: he foresaw and expected this base suspicion, and pulled it up by the roots, or rather did  not suffer it to grow at all. Why? "Because," saith he, "we provide things honest not only before the Lord, but  before all men."(3) So great, yea and far greater zeal must we use, to uproot and prevent floating reports which are  not good, but to see beforehand from afar whence they come, and to remove beforehand the causes from which  they are produced, not to wait till they are established and are the common topics in every one's mouth. For then it  is not easy in the future to destroy them, but very difficult, perhaps impossible, and not without mischief, because  this is done after many have been injured. But how far shall I continue pursuing the unattainable? For to  enumerate all the difficulties in this direction, is nothing more nor less than measuring the ocean. Even when any  one should clear himself from every passion (which is a thing impossible) in order to correct the failings of others,  he is forced to undergo countless trials, and when his own infirmities are added, behold, an abyss of toil and care,  and all that he must suffer, who wishes to subdue the evils in himself and in those around him.
    10. BASIL: And now, art thou free from toils? hast thou no cares while thou livest by thyself?
    CHRYSOSTOM: I have indeed even now. For how is it possible for one who is a man, and who is living this  toilsome life of ours, to be free from cares and conflict? But it is not quite the same thing for man to plunge into a  boundless ocean and to cross a river, so great is the difference between these cares and those. For now, indeed, if I  were able to become serviceable to others, I should wish it myself, and this would be a matter of prayer with me.  But if it is not possible to help another, yet if it be practicable to save and rescue myself from the waves, I shall be  contented.
    BASIL: Dost thou then think this to be a great thing? and dost thou fancy that thou wilt be saved when thou art  not profitable to any other?
    CHRYSOSTOM: Thou hast spoken well and nobly, for I am not myself able to believe that it is possible for  one who has not labored for the salvation of his fellow to be saved, nor did it at all profit the wretched man in the  Gospel that he had not diminished his talent; but he perished through not increasing it and bringing it doubled to  his master.(4) Nevertheless, I think that my punishment will be milder when I am called to account, because I have  not saved others, than it would be if I should destroy myself and others too by becoming far worse after so great an  honor. For now I  trust that my chastisement will be proportioned

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to the amount of my sins, but after receiving this office, I fear it would be not double, or threefold, but manifold,  because I should have caused very many to stumble, and after additional honor should have offended the God who  honored me.
    11. For this very cause God accuses the Israelites more vehemently, and shows that they were worthy of greater  chastisement, because they sinned after so many honors had come to them from Him, saying in one place: "But  you only have I known of all the families of the earth, therefore will I punish you for your iniquities,"(1) and again,  "and I raised up of your sons for prophets, and of your young men for Nazarites;(2) and before the times of the  prophets, wishing to show that sins receive sorer punishment by far when they occur in the case of the Priest than  in the case of the laity, He enjoins as great a sacrifice to be offered for the Priest as for the whole people,(3) and  this amounts to a proof on his part, that the wounds of the Priesthood need more assistance--that is, as great as  those of all the people together, and they would not have needed a greater, except they were worse; and they are  not worse in their nature, but are aggravated through the dignity of the Priest, who dares to commit them. And  why do I speak of the men who follow this ministration. For the daughters of the Priests,(4) who have no part in  the Priestly office, yet on account of their father's dignity undergo a far bitterer punishment for the same sins as  others, and the offense is the same in their case and in the daughters of the laity; namely, fornication in both; yet  the penalty is far severer for the former. Dost thou see with what abundant proof God shows thee that he demands  much greater punishment for the ruler than for the ruled? For no doubt he who punishes to a greater degree than  others the daughter of a certain man for that man's sake, will not exact the same penalty from the man who is the  cause of her additional chastisement as from others, but a much heavier one; and very reasonably; for the mischief  does not merely involve himself, but it destroys the souls of the weaker brethren and of them who look up to him,  and Ezekiel, writing to show this, distinguishes from one another the judgment of the rams and of the sheep.(5)
    12. Do we then seem to thee to entertain a reasonable fear? for in addition to what has been said, although  much toil is needful on my part, so that I should not be completely overwhelmed by the passions of my soul, yet I  endure the toil, and I do not shun the conflict. For even now I am taken captive by vainglory, but I often recover  myself, and I see at  a glance that I have been taken, and there are times when I rebuke my soul, which has been  enslaved; outrageous desires even now come over me, but they kindle only a languid flame,  since m bodily eves  cannot fasten upon any fuel to feed the fire. From speaking ill of any, or from hearing any one evil spoken of,  I  am utterly removed, since I have no one to  talk with; for surely these walls would never  give tongue; yet it is not  altogether in like manner possible to avoid anger, although there be none to provoke it. For often when the  recollection of outrageous men has come over me, and of the deeds done by them, it makes my heart swell. But  not permanently, for I quickly subdue its kindling, and persuade it to be quiet, saying that it is very inexpedient  and extremely despicable to leave one's own fault alone, and to busy one's self about the faults of one's neighbors.  But were I to come among the multitude, and to be involved in countless excitements, I should not be able to have  the benefit of this warning, nor to experience reflections which take me thus to task. But just as they who are  driven over precipices by a torrent, or in some other way, are able to foresee the destruction to which they are  finally going, and are unable to think of any means of help, so I, when I have fallen into the great tumult of my  passions, shall be able to see at a glance my chastisement daily increasing. But to be master of myself as I am now,  and to rebuke diseases of this sort raging on every side, would not be equally easy for me as it was before. For my  soul is weak and puny, and easily mastered, not only by these passions, but by envy, which is bitterer than all of  them. Neither does it know how to bear insults or honors temperately. But these do exceedingly elate it, while  those depress it. As, then, savage wild beasts, when they are in good condition, and in full vigor, overcome those  that fight with them, particularly, too,  if they be feeble and unskillful; but if any one were to weaken them by  starvation, he will put their rage to sleep, and will extinguish most of their strength; so that one, not over valiant,  might take up the conflict and battle with them: so also with the passions of the soul. He who makes them weak,  places them in subjection to right reason; but he who nourishes them carefully, makes his battle with them harder,  and renders them so formidable that he passes all his time in bondage and fear.
    What then is the food of these wild beasts? Of vainglory, indeed, it is honors and applause;of pride, abundance  of authority and power;

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of envy, the reputation of one's neighbors; of avarice, the munificence of the generous; of incontinence, luxury and  the constant society of women; and other passions have their proper nutriment? And all these things will sorely  attack me if I come forth into the world, and will tear my soul to pieces, will be the more formidable and will make  my battle with them the harder. Whereas, while I am established here they will be subdued; and then, indeed, only  with great exertion; yet at the same time, by the Grace of God, they will be subdued, and there will not be anything  worse then than their bark. For these reasons I keep to this cell, and am inaccessible, self-contained, and  unsociable, and I put up with hearing countless complaints of this kind, although I would gladly efface them, and  have been vexed and grieved because I cannot; for it is not easy for me to become sociable, and at the same time to  remain in my present security. Therefore I beseech thee, too, to pity rather than to censure one beset with such  great difficulty.
    But we cannot yet persuade thee. Accordingly the time is now come that I should utter to thee the only thing  which I have left spoken. Perhaps it may seem to many to be incredible, but even so I shall not be ashamed to  bring it before the world, for though what is said is proof of an evil conscience and of many sins, yet, since God,  who is about to judge us, knows all accurately, what gain will result to us from the ignorance of men? What then is  this, which is yet unspoken? From that day on which thou didst impart to me the suspicion of the bishopric, my  whole system has often been in danger of being completely unhinged, such was the fear, such the despondency  which seized my soul; for on considering the glory of the Bride of Christ, the holiness, the spiritual beauty and  wisdom, and comeliness, and then reckoning up my own faults, I used not to cease bewailing both her and myself,  and amidst continual distress and perplexity, I kept saying--who then made such a suggestion as this? why has the  Church of God made so great a mistake? why has she so provoked her Master, as to be delivered over to me, the  unworthiest of all men, and to undergo such great disgrace? Considering these things often by myself, and being  unable to bear the thought of so monstrous a thing, I used to be like thunderstruck people, speechless, and unable  either to see or hear. And when this condition of great helplessness left me, for there were times when it passed  off, tears and despondency succeeded to it, and after the flood of tears, then fear again, entered in their stead,  disturbing, confusing and agitating my mind. In such a tempest I used to pass the time that is gone; but thou wast  ignorant of it, and thoughtest that I was spending my time in a perfect tranquillity, but I will now try and unveil to  thee the storm of my soul, for it may be thou wilt henceforth pardon me, abandoning your accusations. How then  shall I unveil this to thee? For if thou wouldest see this clearly, it is not otherwise possible than by laying bare my  own heart; but as this is impossible, I will try and show you as well as I can, by a certain faint illustration, the  gloom of my despondency, and from this image please to infer my condition.
    Let us suppose that the daughter of the King of all the earth under the sun is the betrothed of a certain man, and  that this damsel has matchless beauty, transcending that of human nature, and that in this respect she outstrips by  a long distance the whole race of women; also that she has virtues of the soul, so great as to distance by a long way  the whole generation of men that have been, or that shall be; and that the grace of her manners transcends all  Standards of art, and that the loveliness of her person is eclipsed by the beauty of her countenance; and that her  betrothed, not only for the sake of these things, is enamored of the maiden, but apart from these things has an  affection for her, and by his ardor throws into the shade the most passionate of lovers that ever were. Then let us  suppose, whilst he is burning with love, he hears from some quarter that some mean, abject man, low born, and  crippled in body, in fact a thoroughly bad fellow, was about to wed this wondrous, well-beloved maiden. Have we  then presented to thee some small portion of our grief? and is it enough to stay my illustration at this point? So far  as my despondency is concerned, I think it is enough; for this was the only purpose for which I introduced the  comparison, but that I may show you the measure of my fear, and my terror, let me proceed to another  description.
    Let there be an armament composed of infantry, cavalry, and marines, and let a number of triremes cover the  sea, and phalanxes of foot and horse cover most of the plains, and the ridges of the mountains, and let the metal of  their armor reflect the sunshine, and the glitter of the helmets and shields be reflected by the beams which are  emitted from them; let the clashing of spears and the neighing of horses be borne up to the very heavens, and let  neither sea nor land appear, but only brass and iron in every direction. Let the enemy be drawn up in battle array  opposite to these, fierce and savage men, and let the time of the engagement be now at hand. Then let some one  suddenly seize some young lad, one of

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those brought up in the country, knowing nothing but the use of the shepherd's pipe and crook; let him be clad in  brazen armor, and let him be led round the whole camp and be shown the squadrons and their officers, the  archers, slingers, captains, generals, the foot and horse, the spearmen, the triremes and their commanders, the  dense mass of soldiers in the ships, and the multitude of engines of war lying ready on board. Let him be shown,  moreover, the whole array of the enemy, their repulsive aspect, and the varied stores and unusual quantity of their  arms; the ravines also and precipices of the mountains, deep and difficult. Let him be shown further on the  enemies' side, horses flying by some enchantment and infantry borne through the air, and sorcery of every power  and form; and let him consider the calamities of war, the cloud of spears, the hailstorm of arrows, that rest mist  and obscurity that gloomiest night which the multitude of weapons occasions, eclipsing the sunbeams with their  cloud, the dust no less than the darkness baffling the eyesight. The torrents of blood, the groanings of the falling,  the shouts of the surviving, the heaps of slain, wheels bathed in blood, horses with their riders thrown headlong  down, owing to the number of corpses, the ground a scene of general confusion, blood, and bows, and arrows,  hoofs of horses and heads of men lying together, a human arm and a chariot wheel and a helmet, a breast pierced  through, brains sticking to swords, the point of a dart broken off with an eye transfixed upon it. Then let him  reckon up the sufferings of the naval force, the triremes burning in the midst of the waves, and sinking with their  armed crews, the roaring of the sea, the tumult of the sailors, the shout of the soldiers, the foam of the waves  mixed with blood, and dashing over into all the ships; the corpses on the decks, some sinking, some floating, some  cast upon the beach, overwhelmed by the waves, and obstructing the passage of the ships. And when he has been  carefully instructed in all the tragedy of warfare, let the horrors of captivity and of slavery be added to it, worse  than any kind of death; and having told him all this, bid him mount his horse straightway, and take command of all  that armament.
    Dost thou really think that this lad would be equal to more than the mere description, and would not, at the very  first glance, lose heart?
    13. Do not think that I have exaggerated the matter by my account, nor suppose that because we are shut up in  this body, as in some prison house, and are unable to see anything of the invisible world, that what has been said is  overstated. For thou wouldest see a far greater and more formidabl econflict than this, couldest thou ever behold,  with these eyes of thine, the devil's most gloomy battle array, and his frantic onset. For there is no brass or iron  there. No horses, or chariots or wheels, no fire and darts. These are visible things. But there are other much more  fearful engines than these. One does not need against these enemies breastplate or shield, sword and spear, yet the  sight only of this accursed array is enough to paralyze the soul, unless it happen to be very noble, and to enjoy in a  high degree as a protection to its own courage the providential care of God. And if it were possible by putting off  this body, or still keeping it, to see clearly and fearlessly with the naked eye the whole of his battle array, and his  warfare against us, thou wouldest see no torrents of blood, nor dead bodies, but so many fallen souls, and such  disastrous wounds that the whole of that description of warfare which I just now detailed to thee thou wouldest  think to be mere child's sport and pastime rather than war: so many are there smitten every day, and the wounds  in the two cases do not bring about the same death, but as great as is the difference between the soul from the  body, so great is the difference between that death and this. For when the soul receives a wound, and falls, it does  not lie as a lifeless body, but it is thenceforth tormented, being gnawed by an evil conscience; and after its removal  hence, at the time of judgment, it is delivered over to eternal punishment; and if any one be without grief in regard  to the wounds given by the devil, his danger becomes the greater for his insensibility. For whoever is not pained by  the first wound, will readily receive a second, and after that a third. For the unclean spirit will not cease assaulting  to the last breath, whenever he finds a soul supine and indifferent to his first wounds; and if thou wouldest inquire  into the method of attack, thou wouldest find this much more severe and varied. For no one ever knew so many  forms of craft and deceit as that unclean spirit. By this indeed, he has acquired the greater part of his power, nor  can any one have so implacable a hatred against his worst enemies as the evil one against the human race. And if  any one inquire into the vehemence with which he fights, here again it would be ludicrous to bring men into  comparison with him. But if any one choose out the fiercest and most savage of beasts, and is minded to set their  fury against his, he will   find that they were meek and quiet in comparison, such rage does he breathe forth when  he attacks our souls; and the period of the war-

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fare indeed in the former case is brief, and in this brief space there are respites; for the approach of the night and  the fatigue of slaughter, meal-times also, and many other things, afford a respite to the soldier, so that he can doff  his armor and breathe a little, and refresh himself with food and drink, and in many other ways recover his former  strength. But in the case of the evil one it is not possible ever to lay aside one's armor, it is not possible even to  take sleep, for one who would remain always unscathed. For one of two things must be: either to fall and perish  unarmed, or to stand equipped and ever watchful. For he ever stands with his own battle array, watching for our  indolence, and laboring more zealously for our destruction, than we for our salvation.
    And that he is not seen by us, and suddenly assails us, which things are a source of countless evils to those who  are not always on the watch, proves this kind of war to be harder than the other. Couldest thou wish us, then, in  such a case to command the soldiers of Christ? yea, this were to command them for the devil's service, for  whenever he who ought to marshal and order others is the most inexperienced and feeble of all men, by betraying  through this inexperience those who have been entrusted to his charge, he commands them in the devil's interests  rather than in Christ's.
    But why dost thou sigh? why weep? For my ease does not now call for wailing, but for joy and gladness.
    BASIL: But not my case, yea this calls for countless lamentations. For I am hardly able yet to understand to  what degree of evil thou hast brought me. For I came to thee wanting to learn what excuse I should make on thy  behalf to those who find fault with thee; but thou sendest me back after putting another case in the place of that I  had. For I am no longer concerned about the excuses I shall give them on thy behalf, but what excuse I shall make  to God for myself and my own faults. But I beseech thee, and implore thee, if my welfare is at all regarded by thee,  if there be any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any bowels, and mercies,(1) for thou knowest that  thyself above all hast brought me into this danger, stretch forth thine hand, both saying and doing what is able to  restore me, do not have the heart to leave me for the briefest moment, but now rather than before let me pass my  life with thee.
    CHRYSOSTOM: But I smiled, and said, how shall I be able to help, how to profit thee under so great a burden  of office? But since this is pleasant to thee, take courage, dear soul, for at any time at which it is possible for thee to  have leisure amid thine own cares, I will come and will comfort thee, and nothing shall be wanting of what is in my  power.
    On this, he weeping yet more, rose up. But I, having embraced him and kissed his head, led him forth, exhorting  him to bear his lot bravely. For I believe, said I, that through Christ who has called thee, and set thee over his own  sheep, thou wilt obtain such assurance from this ministry as to receive me also, if I am in danger at the last day,  into thine everlasting tabernacle.

ST. CHRYSOSTOM:

           AN EXHORTAT  ON TO THEODORE AFTER HIS FALL

TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY

REV. W. R. W, STEPHENS, M.A,

   PREBENDARY OF CHICHESTER, AND RECTOR OF WOOLBEDING, SUSSEX.

INTRODUCTION TO THE LETTERS TO THEODORE.

    THESE two letters, which are the earliest of Chrysostom's extant works, are addressed to a friend who had been  a member of the little ascetic brotherhood which Chrysostom and Basil formed, soon after they had abandoned  secular life, as described in the first book of the Treatise on the Priesthood. Theodore, like Maximus, afterwards  Bishop of Isaurian Seleucia, who was another member of the same fraternity, had been a fellow student with  Chrysostom and Basil in the school of Libanius,(1) but was a few years younger than either of them. The strain  upon his powers of religious devotion had proved too much for him; he had withdrawn from the ascetic  brotherhood, and relapsed for a season into worldly habits, being fascinated by the beauty of a young lady named  Hermione, whom he was anxious to marry. His fall was regarded with almost as much sorrow and dismay by his  austere friends as if he had plunged into deadly vice. Prayers were continually offered, and great efforts made for  his restoration, amongst which must be reckoned the two letters which are here translated. They are the  productions of a youthful enthusiast, and as such allowances must be made for them; but they abound in passages  of great beauty and power, especially upon the infinite love and forbearance of God, as encouraging to repentance  and withholding from despair and recklessness into which Theodore seems to have been inclined to sink. The  appeal of Chrysostom, combined with the efforts of his other friends, was not in vain. Theodore once more  renounced the world and his matrimonial intentions, and retired into the seclusion of the fraternity. In A.D. 383,  when he was about thirty-three years of age, he was ordained priest, and in 392 he became Bishop of Mopsuestia,  where he died in A.D. 428 at the age of seventy-eight. Chrysostom seems to have retained his affection to him to  the last, and during his own exile at Cucusus, A.D. 404-7, wrote a letter to him which is full of expressions of  fervent admiration and regard. He was a most voluminous writer, and may be regarded as the ablest  representative of the school of Biblical interpretation founded by Diodorus of Tarsus, under whom he had studied,  together with Chrysostom and Basil. A fierce controversy raged during the fifth and sixth centuries respecting the  orthodoxy of some of his writings which some accused of preparing the way for Nestorianism. When this had died  down his name was comparatively forgotten, and it is only in modern times that his great merits as a  commentator, who boldly applied the historical and grammatical methods of examination to the books of Holy  Scripture, have been fully recognized.
    Tillemont was of opinion that of the two letters of Chrysostom the second only was addressed to Theodore,  who was afterwards Bishop of Mopsuestia. Montfaucon, however, Dupin, and Savile, maintain that both were  addressed to him, and their view is confirmed by the fact that Leontius of Byzantium (in Nest. et. Eutych. lib. iii. c.  7) and Isidore of Seville (de Script. Eccl. c. 6.) mention two letters of Chrysostom to Theodore of Mopsuestia.

                    AN EXHORTATION TO THEODORE AFTER

                                HIS FALL.

                                LETTER I.

    "OH! that my head were water, and mine eyes a fountain of tears!"(1) it is seasonable for me to utter these  words now, yea much more than for the prophet in his time. For although I am not about to mourn over many  cities, or whole nations, yet shall I mourn over a soul which is of equal value with many such nations, yea even  more precious. For if one man who does the will of God is better than ten thousand transgressors, then thou wast  formerly better than ten thousand Jews. Wherefore no one would now blame me if I were to compose more  lamentations than those which are contained in the prophet, and to utter complaints yet more vehement. For it is  not the overthrow of a city which I mourn, nor the captivity of wicked then, but the desolation of a sacred soul, the  destruction and effacement of a Christ-bearing temple.(2) For would not any one who knew in the days of its glory  that well-ordered mind of thine which the devil has now set on fire, groan, imitating the lamentation of the  prophet; when he hears that barbarian hands have defiled the holy of holies, and have set fire to all things and  burned them up, the cherubim, the ark, the mercy seat, the tables of stone, the golden pot? For this calamity is  bitterer, yea bitterer than that, in proportion as the pledges deposited in thy soul were far more precious than  those. This temple is holier than that; for it glistened not with gold and silver, but with the grace of the Spirit, and  in place of the ark and the cherubim, it had Christ, and His Father, and the Paraclete seated within. But now all is  changed, and the temple is desolate, and bare of its former beauty and comeliness, unadorned with its divine and  unspeakable adornments, destitute of all security and protection; it has neither door nor bolt, and is laid open to  all manner of soul-destroying and shameful thoughts; and if the thought of arrogance or fornication, or avarice, or  any more accursed than these, wish to enter in there is no one to hinder them; whereas formerly, even as the  Heaven is inaccessible to all these, so also was the purity of thy soul. Now perhaps I shall seem to say what is  incredible to some who now witness thy desolation and overthrow; for on this account I wail and mourn, and shall  not cease doing so, until I see thee again established in thy former lustre. For although this seems to be impossible  to men, yet to God all things are possible. For it is He "who raiseth the poor from the earth, and lifteth up the  beggar from the dunghill, to set him with the princes, even with the princes of his people." It is He "who makes the  barren woman to dwell at home, a mother rejoicing over her children."(3) Do not then despair of the most perfect  change. For if the devil had such great power as to cast thee down from that pinnacle and height of virtue into the  extremity of evil doing, much more will God be able to draw thee up again to thy former confidence; and not only  indeed to make you what you were before, but even much happier. Only be not downcast, nor fling away good  hopes, nor fall into the condition of the ungodly. For it is not the multitude of sins which is wont to plunge men  into despair, but impiety of soul. Therefore Solomon did not make the unqualified statement "every one who has  entered into the den of the wicked, despiseth;" but only "he who is ungodly."(4) For

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it is such persons only who are affected in this way when they have entered the den of the wicked. And this it is  which does not suffer them to look up, and re-ascend to the position from which they fell. For this accursed  thought pressing down like some yoke upon the neck of the soul, and so forcing it to stoop, hinders it from looking  up to the Master. Now it is the part of a brave and excellent man to break this yoke in pieces, to shake off the  tormentor fastened upon him; and to utter the words of the prophet, "As the eyes of a maiden look unto the hands  of her mistress, even so our eyes look unto the Lord our God until He have mercy upon us. Have pity upon us, O  Lord, have pity upon us, for we have been utterly filled with contempt."(1) Truly divine are these precepts, and  decrees of the highest form of spiritual wisdom. We have been filled, it is said, with contempt, and have undergone  countless distresses; nevertheless we shall not desist from looking up to God, neither shall we cease praying to him  until He has received our petition. For this is the mark of a noble soul, not to be cast down, nor be dismayed at the  multitude of the calamities which oppress it, nor to withdraw, after praying many times without success, but to  persevere, until He have mercy upon us, even as the blessed David saith.
    2. For the reason why the devil plunges us into thoughts of despair is that he may cut off the hope which is  towards God, the safe anchor, the foundation of our life, the guide of the way which leads to heaven, the salvation  of perishing souls. "For by hope" it is said, "we are saved."(2) For this assuredly it is which, like some strong cord  suspended from the heavens, supports our souls, gradually drawing towards that world on high those who cling  firmly to it, and lifting them above the tempest of the evils of this life. If any one then becomes enervated, and lets  go this sacred anchor, straightway he falls down, and is suffocated, having entered into the abyss of wickedness.  And the Evil One knowing this, when he perceives that we are ourselves oppressed by the consciousness of evil  deeds, steps in himself and lays upon us the additional burden, heavier than lead, of anxiety arising from despair;  and if we accept it, it follows of necessity that we are forthwith dragged down by the weight, and having been  parted from that cord, descend into the depth of misery where thou thyself art now, having forsaken the  commandments of the meek and lowly Master and executing all the injunctions of the cruel tyrant, and implacable  enemy of our salvation; having broken in pieces the easy yoke, and cast away the light burden, and having put on  the iron collar instead of these things, yea, having hung the ponderous millstone(3) from thy neck. Where then  canst thou find a footing henceforth when thou art submerging thy unhappy soul, imposing on thyself this  necessity of continually sinking downwards? Now the woman who had found the one coin called her neighbors to  share her joy; saying, "Rejoice with me;" but I shall now invoke all friends, both mine and thine, for the contrary  purpose, saying not "Rejoice with me" but "Mourn with me," and take up the same strain of mourning, and utter  the same cry of distress with me. For the worst possible loss has befallen me, not that some given number of  talents of gold, or some large quantity of precious stones have dropped out of my hand, but that he who was more  precious than all these things, who was sailing over this same sea, this great and broad sea with me, has, I know  not how, slipped overboard, and fallen into the very pit of destruction.
    3. Now if any should attempt to divert me from mourning, I shall reply to them in the words of the prophet,  saying "Let me alone, I will weep bitterly; labour not to comfort me."(4) For the mourning with which I mourn  now is not of a kind to subject me to condemnation for excess in lamentation, but the cause is one for which even  Paul, or Peter, had they been here, would not have been ashamed to weep and mourn, and reject all kinds of  consolation. For those who bewail that death which is common to all one might reasonably accuse of much  feebleness of spirit; but when in place of a corpse a dead soul lies before us, pierced with innumerable wounds, and  yet even in its death manifesting its former natural comeliness, and health, and beauty now extinguished, who can  be so harsh and unsympathetic as to utter words of encouragement in place of wailing and lamentation? For as in  the other world the absence of mourning is a mark of divine wisdom, so in this world the act of mourning is a  mark of the same. He who had already mounted to the sky, who was laughing to scorn the vanity of this life, who  regarded bodily beauty no more than if it had been in forms of stone, who despised gold as it had been mud, and  every kind of luxury as mire, even he, having been suddenly overwhelmed with the feverish longing of a  preposterous passion, has ruined his health, and manly strength, and the bloom of his youth, and

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become a slave of pleasure. Shall we not weep then, I pray you, for such a man and bewail him, until we have got  him back again? And where do these things concern the human soul? It is not possible indeed to discover in this  world the means of release from the death of the body, and yet even this does not stay the mourners from  lamenting; but only in this world is it possible to bring to naught the death of the soul. "For in Hades" we read,  "who will confess thee?"(1) Is it not then the height of stupidity that they who mourn the death of the body should  do this so earnestly, although they know that they will not raise the dead man to life by their lamentation; but that  we should not manifest anything of the kind, and this when we know that often there is hope of conducting the  lost soul back to its former life? For many both now and in the days of our forefathers, having been perverted from  the right position, and fallen headlong out of the straight path, have been so completely restored as to eclipse their  former deeds by the latter, and to receive the prize, and be wreathed with the garland of victory, and be proclaimed  among the conquerors, and be numbered in the company of the saints. For as long as any one stands in the  furnace of pleasures, even if he has countless examples of this kind before him, the thing seems to him to be  impossible; but if he once gets a short start upon the way out from thence, by continually advancing he leaves the  fiercer part of the fire behind him and will see the parts which are in front of him, and before his footsteps full of  dew and much refreshment; only let us not despair or grow weary of the return; for he who is so affected, even if  he has acquired boundless power and zeal, has acquired it to no purpose. For when he has once shut the door of  repentance against himself, and has blocked the entrance into the race-course, how will he be able while he abides  outside to accomplish any good thing, either small or great? On this account the Evil One uses all kinds of devices  in order to plant in us this thought (of despair); for (if he succeeds) he will no longer have to sweat and toil in  contending with us; how should he, when we are prostrate and fallen, and unwilling to resist him? For he who has  been able to slip out of this chain, will recover his own strength and will not cease struggling against the devil to his  last gasp, and even if he had countless other falls, he will get up again, and will smite his enemy; but he who is in,  bondage to the cogitations of despair, and has unstrung his own strength, how will he be able to prevail, and to  resist, having on the contrary taken to flight?
    4. And speak not to me of those who have committed small sins, but suppose the case of one who is filled full of  all wickedness, and let him practice everything which excludes him from the kingdom, and let us suppose that this  man is not one of those who were unbelievers from the beginning, but formerly belonged to the believers, and  such as were well pleasing to God, but afterwards has become a fornicator, adulterer, effeminate, a thief, a  drunkard, a sodomite, a reviler, and everything else of this kind; I will not approve even of this man despairing of  himself, although he may have gone on to extreme old age in the practice of this great and unspeakable wickedness.  For if the wrath of God were a passion, one might well despair as being unable to quench the flame which he had  kindled by so many evil doings; but since the Divine nature is passionless, even if He punishes, even if He takes  vengeance, he does this not with wrath, but with tender care, and much loving-kindness; wherefore it behoves us to  be of much good courage, and to trust in the power of repentance. For even those who have sinned against Him  He is not wont to visit with punishment for His own sake; for no harm can traverse that divine nature; but He acts  with a view to our advantage, and to prevent our perverseness becoming worse by our making a practice of  despising and neglecting Him. For even as one who places himself outside the light inflicts no loss on the light, but  the greatest upon himself being shut up in darkness; even so he who has become accustomed to despise that  almighty power, does no injury to the power, but inflicts the greatest possible injury upon himself. And for this  reason God threatens us with punishments, and often inflicts them, not as avenging Himself, but by way of  attracting us to Himself. For a physician also is not distressed or vexed at the insults of those who are out of their  minds, but yet does and contrives everything for the purpose of stopping those who do such unseemly acts, not  looking to his own interests but to their profit; and if they manifest some small degree of self-control and sobriety  he rejoices and is glad, and applies his remedies much more earnestly, not as revenging himself upon them for  their former conduct, but as wishing to increase their advantage, and to bring them back to a purely sound state of  health. Even so God when we fall into the very extremity of madness, says and does everything, not by way of  avenging Himself on account of our former deeds; but because He wishes to release us from our disorder; and by  means of

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right reason it is quite possible to be convinced of this.
    5. Now if any one should dispute with us concerning these things we will confirm them out of the divine oracles.  For who, I ask, became more depraved than the king of the Babylonians, who after having received such great  experience of God's power as to make obeisance to His prophet, and command offerings and incense to be  sacrificed to Him was again carried away to his former pride, and cast bound into the furnace those who did not  honour himself before God. Nevertheless this man who was so cruel and impious, and rather a beast than a human  being, God invited to repentance, and granted him several opportunities of conversion, first of all the miracle  which took place in the furnace, and after that the vision which the king saw but which Daniel interpreted, a vision  sufficient to bend even a heart of stone; and in addition to these things after the exhortation derived from events  the prophet also himself advised him, saying "Therefore, O king, let my counsel please thee, and redeem thy sins  by alms, and thy iniquities by showing mercy to the poor; it may be that long suffering will be shown to thy  offence."(1) What sayest thou O wise and blessed man? After so great a fall is there again a way of return? and  after so great a disease is health possible? and after so great a madness is there again a hope of soundness of mind?  The king has deprived himself beforehand of all hope, first of all by having ignored Him who created him; and  conducted him to this honour, although he had many evidences of His power and forethought to recount which  occurred both in his own case and in the case of his forefathers; but after this again when he had received distinct  tokens of God's wisdom and foreknowledge, and had seen magic, and astronomy and the theatre of the whole  satanic system of jugglery overthrown, he exhibited deeds yet worse than the former. For things which the wise  magi, the Gazarenes, could not explain, but confessed that they were beyond human nature, these a captive youth  having caused to be solved for him, so moved him by that miracle that he not only himself believed, but also  became to the whole world a clear herald and teacher of this doctrine.(2) Wherefore if even before having received  such a token it was unpardonable in him to ignore God, much more so was it after that miracle, and his  confession, and the teaching which was extended to others. For if he had not honestly believed that He was the  only true God he would not have shown such honour to His servant, or have laid down such laws for others. But  yet after making this kind of confession, he again lapsed into idolatry, and he who once fell on his face and made  obeisance to the servant of God, broke out into such a pitch of madness, as to cast into the furnace the servants of  God who did not make obeisance to himself. What then? did God visit the apostate, as he deserved to be visited?  No! He supplied him with greater tokens of His own power, drawing him back again after so great a display of  arrogance to his former condition; and, what is yet more wonderful, that owing to the abundance of the miracles  he might not again disbelieve what was done, the subject upon which He wrought the sign was none other than the  furnace which the king himself kindled for the children whom he bound and cast therein. Even to extinguish the  flame would have been a wonderful and strange thing; but the benign Deity in order to inspire him with greater  fear, and increase his dismay, and undo all his hardness of heart, did what was greater and stranger than this. For,  permitting the furnace to be kindled to as high a pitch as he desired, He then exhibited his own peculiar power, not  by putting down the devices of his enemies, but by frustrating them when they were set on foot. And, to prevent  any one who saw them survive the flame from supposing that it was a vision, He suffered those who cast them in  to be burned, thus proving that the thing seen was really fire; for otherwise it would not have devoured naphtha  and tow, and fagots and such a large number of bodies; but nothing is stronger than His command; but the nature  of all existing things obeys Him who brought them into being out of nothing; which was just what He manifested  at that time; for the flame having received perishable bodies, held aloof from them as if they had been  imperishable, and restored in safety, with the addition of much lustre, the deposit entrusted to it. For like kings  from some royal court, even so did those children come forth from the furnace, no one having the patience to look  any longer at the king, but all transferring their eyes from him to the strange spectacle, and neither the diadem nor  the purple robe, nor any other feature of royal pomp, attracted the multitudes of unbelievers so much as the sight  of those faithful ones, who tarried long in the fire, and then came out of it as men might have done who had  undergone this in a dream. For the most fragile of all our features, I mean the hair, prevailed more mightily than  adamant against the all-devouring flame. And the fact that when they were cast into the midst of the fire they  suffered no harm was not the only

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wonder, but the further fact that they were speaking the whole time. Now all who have witnessed persons burning  are aware, that if they keep their lips fast closed, they can hold out for a short time at least against the  conflagration; but if any one chances to open his mouth, the soul instantly takes its flight from the body.  Nevertheless after such great miracles had taken place, and all who were present and beheld were amazed, and  those who were absent had been informed of the fact by means of letters, the king who instructed others remained  himself without amendment, and went back again to his former wickedness. And yet even then God did not  punish him, but was still long-suffering, counselling him both by means of visions and by His prophet. But when  he was not made anywise better by any of these things, then at last God inflicted punishment upon him, not by  way of avenging himself on account of his former deeds, but as cutting off the occasion of future evils, and checking  the advance of wickedness, and He did not inflict even this permanently, but after having chastised him for a few  years, He restored him again to his former honour, without having suffered any loss from his punishment, but on  the contrary having gained the greatest possible good; a firm hold upon faith in God, and repentance on account of  his former misdeeds.(1)
    6. For such is the loving-kindness of God; He never turns his face away from a sincere repentance, but if any  one has pushed on to the very extremity of wickedness, and chooses to return thence towards the path of virtue,  God accepts and welcomes, and does everything so as to restore him to his former position. And He does what is  yet more merciful; for even should any one not manifest complete repentance, he does not pass by one which is  small and insignificant, but assigns a great reward even to this; which is evident from what Esaias the prophet says  concerning the people of the Jews, speaking on this wise: "On account of his sin I put him to pain for a little while,  and smote him, and turned my face away from him, and he was pained, and walked sorrowfully, and then I healed  him, and comforted him."(2) And we might cite as another witness that most ungodly king, who was given over to  sin by the influence of his wife: yet when he only sorrowed, and put on sackcloth, and condemned his offences, he  so won for himself the mercy of God, as to be released from all the evils which were impending over him. For God  said to Elias "Seest thou how Ahab is pricked in the heart before my face? I will not bring the evil upon him in his  own days, because he hath wept before me."(3) And after this again, Manasses, having exceeded all in fury and  tyranny, and having subverted the legal form of worship, and shut up the temple, and caused the deceit of idolatry  to flourish, and having become more ungodly than all who were before him, when he afterwards repented, was  ranked amongst the friends of God. Now if, looking to the magnitude of his own iniquities, he had despaired of  restoration and repentance, he would have missed all which he afterwards obtained: but as it was, looking to the  boundlessness of God's tender mercy instead of the enormity of his transgressions, and having broken in sunder  the bonds of the devil, he rose up and contended with him, and finished the good course.(4) And not only by what  was done to these men, but also by the words of the prophet does God destroy the counsels of despair, speaking.  on this wise: "To-day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts, as in the provocation."(5) Now that  expression "to-day," may be uttered at every time of life, even on the verge of old age, if you desire it: for  repentance is judged not by quantity of time, but by disposition of the soul. For the Ninevites did not need many  days to blot out their sin, but the short space of one day availed to efface all their iniquity: and the robber also did  not take a long time to effect his entrance into Paradise, but in such a brief moment as one might occupy in  uttering a single word, did he wash off all the sins which he had committed in his whole life, and received the prize  bestowed by the divine approval even before the Apostles. And we also see the martyrs obtain glorious crowns for  themselves in the course, not of many years, but of a few days, and often in a single day only.
    7. Wherefore we have need of zeal in every direction, and much preparation of mind: and if we so order our  conscience as to hate our former wickedness, and choose the contrary path with as much energy as God desires and  commands,we shall not have anything less on account of the short space of time: many at least who were last have  far outstripped those who were first. For to have fallen is not a grievous thing, but to remain prostrate after talling,  and not to get up again; and, playing the coward and the sluggard, to conceal feebleness of moral purpose under  the reasoning of despair. To whom also the prophet spoke in perplexity saying "Doth he who falleth not rise

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up, or he who turneth away not turn back?"(1) But if you inquire of me for instances of persons who have fallen  away after having believed, all these things have been said with reference to such persons, for he who has fallen  belonged formerly to those who were standing, not to those who were prostrate; for how should one in that  condition fall? But other things also shall be said, partly by means of parables, partly by plainer deeds and words.  Now that sheep which had got separated from the ninety and nine,(2) and then was brought back again, represents  to us nothing else than the fall and return of the faithful; for it was a sheep not of some alien flock, but belonging  to the same number as the rest, and was for merly pastured by the same shepherd, and it strayed on no common  straying, but wandered away to the mountains and in valleys, that is to say some long journey, far distant from the  right path. Did he then suffer it to stray? By no means, but brought it back neither driving it, nor beating it, but  taking it upon his shoulders. For as the best physicians bring back those who are far gone in sickness with careful  treatment to a state of health, not only treating them according to the laws of the medical art, but sometimes also  giving them gratification: even so God conducts to virtue those who are much depraved, not with great severity, but  gently and gradually, and supporting them on every side, so that the separation may not become greater, nor the  error more prolonged. And the same truth is implied in the parable of the prodigal son as well as in this. For he  also was no stranger, but a son, and a brother of the child who had been well pleasing to the father, and he plunged  into no ordinary vice, but went to the very extremity, so to say, of evil, he the rich and free and well-bred son being  reduced to a more miserable condition than that of household slaves, strangers, and hirelings. Nevertheless he  returned again to his original condition, and had his former honour restored to him. But if he had despaired of his  life, and, dejected by what had befallen him, had remained in the foreign land, he would not have obtained what he  did obtain, but would have been consumed with hunger, and so have undergone the most pitiable death: but since  he repented, and did not despair, he was restored, even after such great corruption, to the same splendour as  before, and was arrayed in the most beautiful robe, and enjoyed greater honours than his brother who had not  fallen. For "these many years," saith he "do I serve thee, neither transgressed I thy commandment at any time,  and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends; but when this thy son is come who  hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf."(3) So great is the power of  repentance.
    8. Having then such great examples, let us not continue in evil, nor despair of reconciliation, but let us say also  ourselves "I will go to my Father," and let us draw nigh to God. For He Himself never turns away from us, but it  is we who put ourselves far off: for "I am a God" we read "at hand and not a God afar off."(4) And again, when  He was rebuking them   by the mouth of this prophet He said "Do not your sins separate between you and  me?"(5) Inasmuch then as this is the cause which puts us far from God, let us remove this obnoxious barrier, which  prevents any near approach being made.
    But now hear how this has actually occurred in real instances. Amongst the Corinthians some man of mark  committed a sin such as was not named even among the Gentiles. This man was a believer and belonged to the  household of Christ; and some say that he was actually a member of the priesthood. What then? Did Paul cut him  off from the communion of those who were in the way of salvation. By no means: for he himself it is who rebukes  the Corinthians countless times, backwards and forwards, because they did not bring the man to a state of  repentance: but, desiring to prove to us that there is no sin which cannot be healed, he said again concerning the  man who had transgressed more grievously than the Gentiles: "Deliver such an one to Satan for destruction of the  flesh that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus Christ."(6) Now this was prior to repentance: but  after he had repented "Sufficient," said he, "for such an one is this punishment which was inflicted by the many(7)  "and he charged them by a letter to console the man again, and to welcome his repentance, so that he should not  be got the better Of by Satan. Moreover when the whole Galatian people fell after having believed, and wrought  miracles, and endured many trials for the sake of their faith in Christ he sets them up again. For that they had  done miracles he testified when he said: "He therefore that supplieth to you the Spirit and worketh miracles among  you:" (8) and that they endured many contests for the sake of the faith, he also testified when he says:

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"Have ye suffered so many things in vain if it be indeed in vain."(1) Nevertheless after making so great an advance  they committed sin sufficient to estrange them from Christ concerning which he declares saying: "Behold, I Paul  tell you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ will profit you nothing:" and again "ye who would be justified by the law  are fallen away from grace:"(2) and yet even after so great a lapse he welcomes them saying "my little children of  whom I am in travail again until Christ be formed in you(3)" showing that after extreme perversion it is possible  for Christ to be formed again in us: for He doth not desire the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be  convened and live.
    9. Let us then turn to Him, my beloved friend, and execute the will of God. For He created us and brought us  into being, that He might make us partakers of eternal blessings, that He might offer us the kingdom of Heaven,  not that He might cast us into Hell and deliver us to the fire; for this was made not for us, but for the devil: but for  us the kingdom has been destined and made ready of old time. And by way of indicating both these truths He saith  to those on the right hand, "Come ye blessed of my Father inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the  foundation of the world:" but to those on the left "Depart from me, ye cursed, into fire everlasting prepared" (he  no longer says "for you" but)"for the devil and his angels."(4) Thus hell has not been made for us but for him and  his angels: but the kingdom has been prepared for us before the foundation of the world. Let us not then make  ourselves unworthy of entrance into the bride-chamber: for as long as we are in this world, even if we commit  countless sins it is possible to wash them all away by manifesting repentance for our offences: but when once we  have departed to the other world even if we display the most earnest repentance it will be of no avail, not even if  we gnash our teeth, beat our breasts, and utter innumerable calls for succour, no one with the tip of his finger will  apply a drop to our burning bodies, but we shall only hear those words which the rich man heard in the parable  "Between us and you a great gulf has been fixed."(5) Let us then, I beseech you, recover our senses here and let us  recognize our Master as He ought to be recognized. For only when we are in Hades should we abandon the hope  derived from repentance: for there only is this remedy weak and unprofitable: but while we are here even if it is  applied in old age itself it exhibits much strength. Wherefore also the devil sets everything in motion in order to  root in us the reasoning which comes of despair: for he knows that if we repent even a little we shall not do this  without some reward. But just as he who gives a cup of cold water has his recompense reserved for him, so also the  man who has repented of the evils which he has done, even if he cannot exhibit the repentance which his offences  deserve, will have a commensurate reward. For not a single item of good, however small it may be, will be  overlooked by the righteous judge. For if He makes such an exact scrutiny of our sins, as to require punishment for  both our words and thoughts, much more will our good deeds, whether they be great or small, be reckoned to our  credit at that day. Wherefore, even if thyself in a slight degree at least from thy present disorder and excess, even  this will not be impossible: only set thyself to the task at once, and open the entrance into the place of contest; but  as long as thou tarriest outside this naturally seems difficult and impracticable to thee. For before making the trial  even if things are easy and manageable they are wont to present an appearance of much difficulty to us: but when  we are actually engaged in the trial, and making the venture the greater part of our distress is removed, and  confidence taking the place of tremor and despair lessens the fear and increases the facility of operation, and  makes our good hopes stronger. For this reason also the wicked one dragged Judas out of this world lest he should  make a fair beginning, and so return by means of repentance to the point from which he fell. For although it may  seem a strange thing to say, I will not admit even that sin to be too great for the succour which is brought to us  from repentance. Wherefore I pray and beseech you to banish all this Satanic mode of thinking from your soul,  and to return to this state of salvation. For if indeed I were commanding you to ascend to your former altitude all  at once, you would naturally complain of there being much difficulty in doing this: but if all which I now ask you to  do is to get up and return thence in and shrink, and make a retrograde movement? Have you not seen those who  have died in the midst of luxury and drunkenness, and sport and all the other folly of this life? Were are they now  who used to strut through the market place with much pomp, and a crowd of attendants? who were clothed in silk  and redolent with perfumes, and kept a table for their

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musicians, the attentions of flatterers, the loud laughter, the relaxation of spirit, the enervation of mind, the  voluptuous, abandoned, extravagant manner of life--it has all come to an end. Where now have all these things  taken their flight? What has become of the body which enjoyed so much attention, and cleanliness. Go thy way to  the coffin, behold the dust, the ashes, the worms, behold the loathsomeness of the place, and groan bitterly. And  would that the penalty were limited to the ashes! but now transfer thy thought from the coffin and these worms to  that undying worm, to the fire unquenchable, to the gnashing of teeth, to the outer darkness, to affliction and  straitness, to the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, who although the owner of so much wealth, and clothed in  purple could not become the owner of even a drop of water; and this when he was placed in a condition of such  great necessity. The things of this world are in their nature no-wise better than dreams For just as those who work  in the mines or suffer some other kind of punishment more severe than this, when they have fallen asleep owing  to their many weary toils and the extreme bitterness of their life, and in their dreams see themselves living in  luxury and prosperity, are in no wise grateful to their dreams after they have awaked, even so that rich man having  become rich in this present life, as it were in a dream, after his departure hence was punished with that bitter  punishment. Consider these things, and having contrasted that fire with the conflagration of desires which now  possesses thee, release thyself from the furnace. For he who has thoroughly quenched this furnace here, will have  no experience of that in the other world: but if a man does not get the better of this furnace here, the other will lay  hold of him more vehemently when he has departed hence. How long a time dost thou wish the enjoyment of the  present life to be extended? For I do not suppose indeed that more than fifty years remain to thee so as to reach  extreme old age, nor indeed is even this at all assured to us: for how should they who cannot be confident about  living even to the evening rely upon so many years as these? And not only is this uncertain, but there is for often  when life has been extended for a long period, the conditions of luxury have not  been extended with it, but have  come, and at  the same time hastily departed. However, if pared with the endless ages, and those bitter deed both  good and evil things have an end, and that very speedily: but there, both are coextensive with immortal ages, and in  their quality differ unspeakably from the things which now are.
    10. For when you hear of fire, do not suppose the fire in that world to be like this: for fire in this world burns up  and makes away with anything which it takes hold of; but that fire is continually burning those who have once been  seized by it, and never ceases: therefore also is it called unquenchable. For those also who have sinned must put on  immortality, not for honour, but to have a constant supply of material for that punishment to work upon; and how  terrible this is, speech could never depict, but from the experience of little things it is possible to form some slight  notion of these great ones. For if you should ever be in a bath which has been heated more than it ought to be,  think then, I pray you, on the fire of hell: or again if you are ever inflamed by some severe fever transfer your  thoughts to that flame, and then you will be able clearly to discern the difference. For if a bath and a fever so afflict  and distress us, what will our condition be when we have fallen into that river of fire which winds in front of the  terrible judgment-seat. Then we shall gnash our teeth under the suffering of our labours and intolerable pains: but  there will be no one to succour us: yea we shall groan mightily, as the flame is applied more severely to us, but we  shall see no one save those who are being punished with us, and great desolation. And how should any one  describe the terrors arising to our souls from the darkness? for just as that fire has no consuming power so neither  has it any power of giving light: for otherwise there would not be darkness. The dismay produced in us then by  this, and the trembling and the great astonishment can be sufficiently realized in that day only. For in that world  many and various kinds of torment and torrents of punishment are poured in upon the soul from every side. And  if any one should ask, "and how can the soul bear up against such a multitude of punishments and continue being  chastised through interminable ages, let him consider what happens in this world, how many have often borne up  against a long and severe disease. And if they have died, this has happened not because the soul was consumed but  because the body was exhausted, so that had the latter not broken down, the soul would not have ceased being  tormented. When then we have received an incorruptible and inconsumable body there is nothing to prevent the  punishment being in-

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definitely extended. For here indeed it is impossible that the two things should coexist. I mean severity of  punishment and permanence and cannot bear the concurrence of both: but when the imperishable state has  supervended, these terrible things will keep their hold upon us for infinite time with much force. Let us not then so  dispose ourselves now as if the excessive power of the tortures were destructive together with the soul, in a state of  eternal punishment, and there will not be any end to look to beyond this. How much luxury then, and how much  time will you weigh in the balance against this punishment and vengeance? Do you propose a period of a hundred  years or twice as long? and what is this compared with the endless ages? For what the dream of a single day is in the  midst of a whole lifetime, that the enjoyment of things here is as contrasted with the state of things to come. Is  there then any one who, for the sake of seeing a good dream, would elect to be perpetually punished? Who is so  senseless as to have recourse to this kind of retribution? For I am not yet accusing luxury nor revealing now the  bitterness which lurks in it: for the present is not the proper time for these remarks, but when ye have been able to  escape it. For now, entangled as you are by this passion, you will suspect me of talking nonsense, if I were to call  pleasure bitter: but when by the grace of God you have been released from the malady then you will know its topics  for another season, what I will say now is just this: Be it so, that luxury is luxury, and pleasure, pleasure, and that  they have nothing in them painful or disgraceful, what shall we say to the punishment which is in store for us? and  what shall we do then if we have taken our pleasure now, as it were in a shadow and a figure, but undergo  everlasting torment there in reality, when we might in a short space of time escape these tortures already  mentioned, and enjoy the good things which ar stored up for us? For this also is the work of the loving-kindness of  God, that our struggles are not protracted to a great length, but that after struggling for a brief, and tiny twinkling  of an eye (for such is present life compared with the other) we receive crowns of victory for endless ages. And it  will be no small affliction to the souls of those who are being punished at that time, to reflect, that when they had it  in their power in the few days of this life to make all good, they neglected their opportunity and surrendered  themselves to everlasting evil. And lest we should suffer this let us rouse ourselves while it is the acepted time,  while it is the day of salvation,(1) while the power of repentance is great. For not only the evils already mentioned,  but others also far worse than these await us if we are indolent. These indeed, and some bitterer than these have  their place in hell: but the loss of the good things involves so much pain, so much affliction and straitness, that even  if not other kind of punishment were appointed for those who sin here, it would of itself be sufficient to vex us  more bitterly than the torments in hell, and to confound our souls.
    11. For consider I pray the condition of the other life, so far as it is possible to consider it; for no words will  suffice for an adequate description: but from the things which ar told us, as if by means of certain riddles, let us try  and get some indistinct vision of it. "Pain and sorrow and sighing," we read "have fled away."(2) What then could  be more blessed than this life? It is not possible there to fear poverty and disease: it is not possible to see any one  injuring, or being injured, provoking, or being provoked, or angry, or envious, or burning with any outrageous  lust, or anxious concerning the supply of the necessaries of life, or bemoaning himself over the loss of some dignity  and power: for all the tempest of passion in us is quelled and brought to nought, and all will be in a condition of  peace, and gladness and joy, all things serene and tranquil, all will be daylight and brightness, and light, not this  present light, but one excelling this in splendour as much as this excels the brightness of a lamp. For things are not  concealed in that world by night, or by a gathering of clouds: bodies there are not set on fire and burned: for there  is neither night nor evening there, nor cold nor heat, nor any other variation of seasons: but the condition is of a  different kind, such as they only will know who have been deemed worthy of it; there is no old age there, nor any  of the evils of old age, but all things relating to decay are utterly removed, and incorruptible glory reigns in every  part. But greater than all these things in the perpetual enjoyment of intercourse with Christ in the company of  angels, and archangels, and the higher powers. Behold now the sky, and pass through it in thought to the region  beyond the sky, and consider the transfiguration to take place in the whole creation; for it will not continue to be  such as it is now, but will be far more brilliant and beautiful,

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and just as gold glistens more brightly than lead, so will the future constitution of the universe be better than the  present: even as the blessed Paul saith "Because the creation also itself shall be delivered from the bondage of  corruption."(1) For now indeed, seeing that it partakes of corruption, it is subject to many things such as bodies of  this kind naturally experience: but then, having divested itself of all these things, we shall see it display its beauty in  an incorruptible form: for inasmuch as it is to receive incorruptible bodies, it will in future be itself also  transfigured into the nobler condition. Nowhere in that world will there be sedition and strife: for great is the  concord of the band of saints, all being ever in harmony with one another. It is not possible there to fear the devil,  and the plots of demons, or the threatenings of hell, or death, either that death which now is, or the other death  which is far worse than this, but every terror of this kind will have been done away. And just as some royal child,  who has been brought up in mean guise, and subject to fear and threats, lest he should deteriorate by indulgence  and become unworthy of his paternal inheritance, as soon as he has attained the royal dignity, immediately  exchanges all his former raiment for the purple robe, and the diadem and the crowd of body-guards, and assumes  his state with much confidence, having cast out of his soul thoughts of humility and subjection, and having taken  others in their place; even so will it happen then to all the saints
    And to prove that these words are no empty vaunt let us journey in thought to the mountain where Christ was  transfigured: let us behold him shining as He shone there; and yet even then He did not display to us all the  splendour of the world to come. For that the vision was accommodated to human eyes, and not an exact  manifestation of the reality is plain from the very words of the Evangelist. For what saith he? "He did shine as the  Sun."(2) But the glory of incorruptible bodies does not emit the same kind of light as this body which is corruptible,  nor is it of a kind to be tolerable to mortal eyes, but needs incorruptible and immortal eyes to contemplate it. But  at that time on the mountain He disclosed to them as much as it was possible for them to see without injuring the  sight of the beholders; and even so they could not endure it but fell upon their faces. Tell me, if any one led thee  into some bright place, where all were sitting arrayed in vestures of gold, and in the midst of the multitude pointed  out one other to thee who alone had garments wrought with precious stones, and a crown upon his head, and then  promised to place thee in the ranks of this people, wouldst thou not do everything to obtain this promise? Open  then even now in imagination thine eyes, and look on that assembly, composed not of men such as we are, but of  those who are of more value than gold and previous stones, and the beams of the sun, and all visible radiance, and  not consisting of men only but of beings of much more dignity than men,--angels, archangels, thrones, dominions,  principalities, powers. For as concerning the king it is not even possible to say what he is like: so completely do his  beauty, his grace, his splendour, his glory, his grandeur and magnificence elude speech and thought. Shall we then,  I ask, deprive ourselves of such great blessings, in order to avoid suffering for a brief period? For if we had to  endure countless deaths every day, or even hell itself, for the sake of seeing Christ coming in His glory, and' being  enrolled in the company of the saints, ought we not to undergo all those things? Hear what the blessed Peter says;  "it is good for us to be here."(3) But if he, when he beheld some dim image of the things to come, immediately cast  away all other things out of his soul on account of the pleasure produced in it by that vision; what would any one  say  when the actual reality of the things is presented, when the palace is thrown open and it is permitted to gaze  upon the King Himself, no longer darkly, or by means of a mirror,(4) but face to face; no longer by means of faith,  but by sight?
    12. The majority it is true of those who are not very sensibly minded propose to be content with escaping hell;  but I say that a far more severe punishment than hell is exclusion from the glory of the other world, and I think  that one who has failed to reach it ought not to sorrow so much over the miseries of hell, as over his rejection from  heaven, for this alone is more dreadful than all other things in respect of punishment. But frequently now when  we see a king, attended by a large bodyguard, enter the palace, we count those happy who are near him, and have a  share in his speech and mind, and partake of all the rest of his glory; and even if we have countless blessings, we  have no perception of any of them, and deem ourselves miserable when we look at the glory of those who are  round about him, although we know that such splendour is slippery and insecure, both on account of wars, and  plots, and envy, and because apart from these things it is not in itself worthy of any

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consideration. But where the king of all is concerned, he who holds not a portion of the earth but the whole circuit  of it, or rather who comprehends it all in the hollow of his hand, and measures the Heavens with a span, who  upholdeth all things by the word of His power,(1) by whom all the nations are counted as nought, and as a drop of  spittle ;---in the case of such a king I say shall we no reckon it the most extreme punishment to miss being enrolled  in that company which is round about him, but be content if we merely escape hell? and what could be more  pitiable than this condition of soul? For this king does not come to judge the earth, drawn by a pair of white mules,  nor tiding in a golden chariot, nor arrayed in a purple robe and diadem. How then does He come? Hear the  prophets crying aloud and saying as much as it is possible to tell to men: for one saith "God shall come openly,  even our God and shall not keep silence: a fire shall be kindled before Him, and a mighty tempest shall be round  about Him: He shall call the Heaven from above and the earth that He may judge His people."(2)  But Esias  depicts the actual punishment impending over us speaking thus: "Behold the day of the Lord cometh, inexorable,  with wrath and anger; to lay the whole world desolate, and to destroy sinners out of it. For the stars of Heaven,  and Orion, and the whole system of the heaven shall not give their light, and the sun shall be darkened in its going  down,(3) and the moon shall not give her light; and I will ordain evils against the whole world, and visit their sins  upon the ungodly, and I will destroy the insolence of the lawless, and humble the insolence of the proud, and they  who are left shall be more precious than unsmelted gold, and a man shall be more precious than the sapphire  stone. For the heaven shall be disturbed(4) and the earth shall be shaken from its foundations by reason of the fury  of the wrath of the Lord of Sabaoth, in the day when His wrath shall come upon us."(5) And again "windows" he  saith "shall be opened from the Heaven, and the foundations of the earth shall be shaken the earth shall be  mightily confounded, the earth shall be bent low, it shall be perplexed with great perplexity, the earth shall stagger  grievously like the drunkard and the reveller; the earth shall shake as a hut, it shall fall and not be able to rise up  again: for iniquity has waxed mighty therein. And God shall set His hand upon the host of the Heaven in the height  in that day, and upon the kingdoms of the earth, and He shall gather together the congregation thereof into a  prison, and shall shut them up in a stronghold."(6) And Malachi speaking concordantly with these said" Behold the  Lord almighty cometh, and who shall abide the day of His coming or who shall stand when He appeareth? for He  cometh like a refiner's fire, and like fullers soap: and He shall sit refining and purifying as it were silver, and as it  were gold."(7) And again, "Behold," he saith, "the day of the Lord cometh, burning like an oven, and it shall  consume them, and all the aliens, and all who work iniquity shall be stubble, and the day which is coming shall set  fire to them saith the Lord almighty; and there shall be left neither root nor branch."(8) And the man greatly  beloved saith "I beheld until thrones were placed, and the Ancient of Days was seated, and his raiment was white  as snow, and the hair of his head was pure as wool: His throne was a flame of fire, and the wheels thereof burning  fire: a stream of fire wound its way in front of Him. Thousand thousands ministered unto Him, and ten thousand  times ten thousand stood before Him. The judgment was set and the books were opened."(9) Then after a little  space "I beheld," he says, "in a vision of the night and behold" with the clouds of Heaven, one came like the Son of  Man, and reached unto the Ancient of Days, and was brought near before Him, and to Him was given rule, and  honor, and the kingdom, and all the people, tribes and tongues serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting  dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom shall not be destroyed. As for me Daniel, my spirit  shuddered within me, and the visions of my head troubled me."(10) Then all the gates of the heavenly vaults are  opened, or rather the heaven itself is taken away out of the midst "for the heaven," we read "shall be rolled up like  a scroll,"(11) wrapped up in the middle like the skin and covering of some tent so as to be transformed into some  better shape. Then all things are full of amazement and horror and trembling: then even the angels themselves are  holden by much fear, and not angels only but also archangels and thrones, and dominions, and principalities and  authorities. "For the powers" we read "of the heavens shall be shaken," because their fellow-servants are required  to give an account of their life in this world.(12) For if when a single city is bring judged before rulers in this world,  all men

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shudder, even those who are outside the danger, when the whole world is arraigned before such a judge as this who  needs no witnesses, or proofs, but independently of all these things brings forward deeds and words and thoughts,  and exhibits them all as in some picture both to those who have committed the sins and to those who are ignorant  of them, how is it not natural that every power should be confounded and shake? For if there were no river of fire  winding by, nor any terrible angels standing by the side of the throne, but men were merely summoned some to  be praised and admired, others to be dismissed with ignominy that they might not see the glory of God, ("For let  the ungodly" we read "be taken away that he may not see the glory of the Lord"(1))and if this were the only  punishment would not the loss of such blessings sting the souls of those who were deprived of them more bitterly  than all hell itself? For how great an evil this is cannot possibly be represented now in words; but then we shall  know it clearly in the actual reality. But now I pray add the punishment also to the scene, and imagine men not  only covered with shame, and veiling their heads, and bending them low, but also being dragged along the road to  the fire, and haled away to the instruments of torture and delivered over to the cruel powers, and suffering these  things just at the time when all they who have practised what is good, and wrought deeds worthy of eternal life, are  being crowned, and proclaimed conquerors, and presented before the royal throne.
    13. Now these are things which will happen in that day: but the things which will follow, after these, what  language can describe to us--the pleasure, the profit, the joy of being in the company of Christ? For when the soul  has returned to the proper condition of nobility, and is able henceforth with much boldness to behold its Master it  is impossible to say what great pleasure it derives therefrom, what great gain, rejoicing not only in the good things  actually in hand, but in the persuasion that these things will never come to an end. All that gladness then cannot be  described in words, nor grasped by the understanding: but in a dim kind of way, as one indicates great things by  means of small ones, I will endeavour to make it manifest. For let us scrutinize those who enjoy the good things of  the world in this present life, I mean wealth and power, and glory, how, exulting with delight, they reckon  themselves as no longer being upon the earth, and this although the things which they are enjoying are  acknowledged not to be really good, and do not abide with them, but take to flight more quickly than a dream: and  even if they should even last for a little time, their favour is displayed within the limits of this present life, and  cannot accompany us further. Now if these things uplift those who possess them to such a pitch of joy, what do you  suppose is the condition of those souls which are invited to enjoy the countess blessings in Heaven which are  always securely fixed and stable? And not only this, but also in their quantity and quality they excel present things  to such an extent as never entered even the heart of man.(2) For at the present time like an infant in the womb,  even so do we dwell in this world confined in a narrow space, and unable to behold the splendour and the freedom  of the world to come: but when the time of travail arrives and the present life is delivered at the day of judgment of  all men whom it has contained, those who have been miscarried go from darkness into darkness, and from  affliction into more grievous affliction: but those which are perfectly formed and have preserved the marks of the  royal image will be presented to the king, and will take upon themselves that service which angels and archangels  minister to the God of all. I pray thee then, O friend, do not finally efface these marks, but speedily restore them,  and stamp them more perfectly on thy soul. For corporeal beauty indeed God has confined within the limits of  nature, but grace of soul is released from the constraint and bondage arising from that cause inasmuch as it is far  superior to any bodily symmetry: and it depends entirely upon ourselves and the grace of God. For our Master,  being merciful has in this special way honoured our race, that He has entrusted to the necessity of nature the  inferior things which contribute nothing much to our advantage, and in their issue are matters of indifference, but  of the things which are really noble He has caused us to be ourselves the artificers. For if He had placed corporeal  beauty also under our control we should have been subjected to excessive anxiety, and should have wasted all our  time upon things which are of no profit, and should have grievously neglected our soul.
    For if, even as it is, when we have not this power in ourselves, we make violent efforts, and give ourselves up to  shadow painting, and because we cannot in reality produce bodily beauty, cunningly devise imitations by means of  paints, and dyes, and dressing of hair, and arrangement of garments, and pencilling of eyebrows, and many other  contrivances: what leisure should we have set apart for the soul

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and serious matters, if we had it in our power to transfigure the body into a really symmetrical shape? For  probably, if this were our business, we should not have any other, but should spend all our time upon it: decking  the bondmaid with countess decorations, but letting her who is the mistress of this bond-maid lie perpetually in a  state of deformity and neglect. For this reason God, having delivered us from this vain occupation, implanted in us  the power of working upon the nobler element, and he who cannot turn an ugly body into a comely on, can raise  the soul, even when it has been reduced to the extremity of ugliness, to the very acme of grace, and make it so  amiable and desirable that not only are good men brought to long after it but even He who is the sovereign and  God of all, even as the Psalmist also when discoursing concerning this beauty, said "And the king shall have desire  of thy beauty." (1) Seest thou not also that in the houses of prostitutes the women who are ugly and shameless  would hardly be accepted by prize-fighters, and runaway slaves, and gladiators: but should any comely, well-born  and modest woman, owing to some mischance, have been reduced to this necessity, no man, even amongst those  who are very illustrious and great, would be ashamed of marriage with her? Now if there is so much pity amongst  men, and so much disdain of glory as to release from that bondage the women who have often been disgraced in  the brothel, and to place them in the position of wives, much more is this the case with God, and those souls which,  owing to the usurpation of the devil, have then from their original noble condition into the harlotry of this present  life. And you will find the prophets filled with examples of this kind, when they address Jerusalem; for she fell into  fornication, and a novel form of it, even as Ezekiel says: "To all harlots wages are given, but thou hast given wages  to thy lovers, and there hath been perversion in thee beyond all other women,"(2) and again another saith "Thou  didst sit waiting for them like a deserted bird."(3) This one then who hath committed fornication in this fashion  God calls back again. For the captivity which took place was not so much by way of vengeance as for the purpose of  conversion and amendment since if God had wished to punish them out-fight He would not again have brought  them back to their home. He would not have established their city and their temple in greater splendour than  before: "For the final glory of this house" He said "shall exceed the former."(4) Now if God did not exclude from  repentance her who who had many times committed fornication, much more will He embrace My soul, which has  now fallen for the first time. For certainly there is no lover of corporeal beauty, even if he be very frantic, who is so  inflamed will the love of his mistress as God longs after the salvation of our souls; and this we may perceive both  from the divine Scriptures. See at least, both in the introduction of Jeremiah, and many other places of the  prophets, when He is despised and contemned, how He again hastens forward and pursues the friendship of those  who turn away from him; which also He Himself made dear in the Gospels saying, "O Jerusalem! Jerusalem! thou  that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children  together even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not?"(5) And Paul writing to the  Corinthians said "that God was in Christ reconciling the word unto Himself, not reckoning their trespasses unto  them, and having committed unto us the word of reconciliation. We are ambassadors therefore on behalf of Christ,  as though God were entreating by us; we beseech you on behalf of Christ be ye reconciled to God."(6) Consider  that this has now been said to us. For it is not merely want of faith, but also an unclean life which is sufficient to  work this abominate enmity. "For the carnal mind" we read "is enmity against God."(7) Let us then break down  the barrier, and hew it in pieces, and destroy it, that we may enjoy the blessed reconciliation, that we may become  again the fondly beloved of God.
    14. I know that thou art now admiring the grace of Hermione, and thou judgest that there is nothing in the  world to be compared to her comeliness; but if you choose, O friend, you shall yourself exceed her in comeliness  and gracefulness, as much as golden statues surpass those which are made of clay. For if beauty, when occurs in the  body, so fascinates and excites the minds of most men, when the soul is refulgent with it what can match beauty  and grace of this kind? For the groundwork of this corporeal beauty is nothing else but phlegm, and blood, and  humor, and bile, and the fluid of masticated food. For by these things both eyes and cheeks, and all  the other  features, are supplied with moisture; and if they do not receive that moisture, daily skin becoming unduly withered,  and the eyes

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sunken, the whole grace of the countenance forthwith vanishes; so that if you consider what is stored up inside  those beautiful eyes, and that straight nose, and the mouth and the cheeks, you will affirm the well-shaped body to  be nothing else than a whited sepulchre; the parts within are full of so much uncleanness. Morever when you see a  rag with any of these things on it, such as phlegm, or spittle you cannot bear to touch it with even the tips of your  fingers, nay you cannot even endure looking at it; and yet are you in a flutter of excitement about the storehouses  and depositories of these things? But thy beauty was not of this kind, but excelled it as heaven is superior to earth;  or rather it was much better and more brilliant than this For no one has anywhere seen a soul by itself, stripped of  the body; but yet even so I will endeavour to present to you the beauty of this soul from another source. I mean  from the case of the greater powers Hear at least how the beauty of these struck the man greatly beloved; for  wishing to set forth their beauty and being unable to find a body of the same character, he had recourse to metallic  substances, and he was not satisfied even with these, but took the brilliancy of lightning for his illustration.(1) Now  if those powers, even when they did not disclose their essential nature pure and bare, but only in a very dim and  shadowy way, nevertheless shone so brightly, what must naturally be their appearance, when set free froth every  veil? Now we ought to form some such image of the beauty of the soul. "For they shall be," we read "equal unto the  angels."(2) Now in the case of bodies the fighter and finer kinds, and those which have retreated to the path which  tend towards the incorporeal, are very much better and more wonderful than the others The sky at least is more  beautiful than the earth, and fire than water, and the stars than precious stones; and we admire the rainbow far  more than violets and roses, and all other flowers which are upon the earth. And in short if it were possible with  the bodily eyes to behold the beauty of the soul you would laugh to scorn these corporeal illustrations, so feebly  have they presented to us the gracefulness of the soul. Let us not then neglect such a possession, nor such great  happiness, and especially when the approach to that kind of beauty becomes easy to us by our hopes of the things  to come. "For our light affliction?" we read, "which is but for the moment, worketh for us more and more  exceedingly an eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen but at the things which are  not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."(3) Now if the  blessed Paul called such afflictions as thou wottest of light and easy, because he did not look at the things which are  seen, much more tolerable is it merely to cease from wantonness. For we are not calling thee to those dangers  which he underwent, nor to those deaths which he incurred daily,(4) the constant beatings and scourgings, the  bonds, the enmity of the whole world, the hatred of his own people, the frequent vigils, the long journies, the  shipwrecks, the attacks of robbers, the plots of his own kinsfolk, the distresses on account of his friends, the  hunger, the cold, the nakedness, the burning, the despondency on account both of those who belonged to him, and  those who did not belong to him. None of these things do we now demand of thee; all that we ask for is that you  would release yourself from your accursed bondage, and return to your former freedom, having considered both  the punishment arising from your wantonness, and the honor belonging to your former manner of life. For that  unbelievers should be but languidly affected by the thought of the resurrection and never be in fear of this kind, is  nothing wonderful; but that we who are more firmly persuaded concerning the things of the other world than  those of the present, should spend our life in this miserable and deplorable way and be nowise affected by the  memory of those things, but sink into a state of extreme insensibility--this is irrational in the highest degree. For  when we who believe do the deeds of unbelievers, or rather are in a more miserable plight than they (for there are  some among them who have been eminent for the virtue of their life), what consolation, what excuse will be left  for us? And many merchants indeed who have incurred shipwreck have not given way, but have pursued the same  journey, and this when the loss which has befallen them was not owing to their own carelessness, but to the force  of the winds; and shall we who have reason to be confident concerning the end, and know certainly that if we do  not wish it, neither shipwreck nor accident of any kind will bring us damage, not lay hold of the work again, and  carry on our business as we did aforetime, but lie in idleness and keep our hands to ourselves? And would that we  kept them merely to ourselves and did not use them against ourselves which is a token of stark madness. For if any  pugilist, leaving his antagonist were to turn his hands against his own head, and deal blows to his own face, should

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we not, I ask, rank him among madmen? For the devil has upset us and cast us down; therefore we ought to get up,  and not to be dragged down again and precipitate ourselves, and add blows dealt by ourselves to the blows dealt by  him. For the blessed David also had a fall like that which has now happened to you; and not this only but another  also which followed it. I mean that of murder. What then? did he remain prostrate? Did he not immediately rise up  again with energy and place himself in portion to fight the enemy? In fact he wrestled with him so bravely, that  even after his death he was the protector of his offspring. For when Solomon had perpetrated great inquity, and  had deserved countless deaths, God said that He would leave him the kingdom intact, thus speaking "I will surely  rend the kingdom out of thine hand and will give it to thy servant. Nevertheless I will not do this in thy days."  Wherefore? "For David thy father's sake, I will take it out of the hand of thy son."(1) And again when Hezekiah  was about to run the greatest possible risk, although he was a righteous man, God said that He would succour him  for the sake of this saint. "For I will cast my shield" He saith, "over this city to save it for my own sake, and for my  servant: David's sake."(2) So great is the force of repentance. But if he had determined with himself, as you do  now, that henceforth it was impossible to propitiate God, and if he had said within himself: "God has honoured me  with great honour, and has given me a place among among the prophets, and has entrusted me with the  government of my countrymen, and rescued me out of countless perils, how then, when  have offended against  Him after such great benefits, and have perpetrated the worst crimes, shall I be able to recover his favour?" If he  had thought thus, not only would he not have done the things which he afterwards his former evils.
     15. For not only the bodily wounds work death, if they are neglected, but also those of the soul; and yet we have  arrived at such a pitch of folly as to take the greatest care of the former, and to overlook the latter; and although in  the case of the body it naturally often happens that many wounds are incurable, yet we do not abandon hope, but  even when we hear the physicians constantly declaring, that it is not possible to get rid of this suffering by  medicines, we still  persist in exhorting them to devise at least some slight alleviation; but in the case of souls,  where there is no incurable malady; for it is not subject to the necessity of nature; here, as if the infirmities were  strange we are negligent and despairing; and where the nature of the disorder might naturally plunge us into  despair, we take as much pains as if there were great hope of restoration to health; but where there is no occasion  to renounce hope, we desist from efforts, and become as heedless as if matters were desperate; so much more  account do we take of the body than of the soul. And this is the reason why we are not able to save even the body.  For he who neglects the leading element, and manifests all his zeal about inferior matters destroys and loses both;  whereas he who observes the right order, and preserves and cherishes the more commanding element, even if he  neglects the secondary element yet preserves it by means of saving the primary one. Which also Christ signified to  us when He said, "Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is  able to destroy both soul and body in Hell."(3)
    Well, do I convince you, that one ought never to despair of the disorders of the soul as incurable? or must I again  set other arguments in motion? For even if thou shouldst despair of thyself ten thousand times, I will never despair  of thee, and I will never myself be guilty of that for which I reproach others; and yet it is not the same thing for a  man to renounce hope of himself, as for another to renounce hope of him. For he who has this suspicion  concerning another may readily obtain pardon; but he who has it of himself will not. Why so pray? Because the one  has no controlling power over the zeal and repentance of the other, but over his own zeal and repentance a man  has sole authority. Nevertheless even so I will not despair of you; though you should any number of times be heard  the prophet vehemently declaring, and plainly threatening; "yet three days and Nineveh shall be overthrown,"(4)  even then did not lose heart, but, although they had no confidence that they should be able to move the utterance  was not accompanied by any qualification, but was a simple declaration), even then they manifested repentance  saying: "Who knoweth whether God will repent and be entreated, and turn from the fierceness of His wrath, and  that we perish not? And God

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say their works that they turned from their evil ways, and God repented of the evil which He said He would do  unto them and He did it not."(1) Now if barbarian, and unreasoning men could perceive so much, much more  ought we to do this who have been trained in the divine doctrines and have seen such a crowd of ways; but far as is  the Heaven from the earth, so far are my thoughts from your mind, and my counsels from your counsels."(2) Now  if we admit to our favour household slaves when they have often offended against us, on their promising to become  better, and place them again in their former portion, and sometimes even grant them greater freedom of speech  than before; much more does God act thus. For if God had made us in order to punish us, you day until the  present time, what is there which can ever cause you to doubt? Have we provoked Him severely, so as no other  man ever future. For to sin may be a merely human failing, but to continue in the same sin ceases to be human,  and becomes altogether devilish. For observe how God by the mouth of His prophet Names this more than the  other. "For," we read, "I said unto her after she had done all these deeds of fornication, return unto me, and yet  she returned not."(3) And again: from another quarter, when wishing to show the great longing which He has for  our salvation, having heard how the people promised, after many transgressions, to tread the right way He said:  "Who will grant unto them to have such an heart as to fear me, and to keep my commandments all their days, that  it may be well with them and with their children forever?"(4) And Moses when reasoning with them said, "And  now, O Israel, what doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, and to walk in all His  ways, and to love Him?"(5) He then who is so anxious to be loved by us, and does everything for this end, and did  not spare even His only begotten Son on account of His love towards us, and who counts it a desirable thing if at  any time we become reconciled to Himself, how shall He not welcome and love us when we repent? Hear at least  what He says by the mouth of the prophet: "Declare thou first thy iniquities that thou mayest be justified."(6) Now  this He demands from us in order to intensify our love towards Him. For when one who loves, after enduring  many insults at the hands of those who are beloved, even then does not extinguish his fondness for them, the only  reason why he takes pains to make those insults public, is that by displaying the strength of his affection he may  induce them to feel a larger and warmer love. Now if the confession of sins brings so much consolation, much  more does the endeavour to wash them away by means of our deeds For if this was not the case, but those who had  vehemence in evil things, will also in turn exhibit the same in good things, being conscious and wiped them with  the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss, but she since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet.  Mine head with oil thou didst not anoint; but she hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee:  her sins which are many are forgiven; for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And  He said unto her, thy sins are forgiven."(7)
      16. For this reason also the devil, knowing that they who have committed great evils, when they have begun to  repent, do this with much zeal, inasmuch as they are conscious of their offences, fears and trembles lest they should  make a beginning of the work; for after they have made it they are no longer capable of being checked, and,  kindling like fire under the influence of repentance, they render their souls purer than pure gold, being impelled by  their conscience, and the memory of their former sins, as by some strong gale, towards the haven of virtue. And  this is the point in

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which they have an advantage over those who have never fallen, that they exercise more vehement energy; if only,  as I said, they can lay hold of the beginning. For the task which is hard and difficult of accomplishment is to be able  to set foot on the entrance, and to reach the vestibule of repentance, and to repulse and overthrow the enemy  there when he is fiercely raging and assaulting us. But after this, he will not display so much fury when he has once  been worsted, and has fallen where he was strong. and we shall receive greater energy, and shall run this good race  with much ease. Let us then in future set about our return, let we have been appointed to find our home as  citizens. For to despair of ourselves not only has this evil that it shuts the gates of that city against us, and that it  drives us into greater indolence and contempt, but also that it plunges us into Satanic recklessness For the only  cause why the devil became such as he is was that he first of all despaired, and afterwards from despair sank into  recklessness For the soul, when once it has abandoned its own salvation, will no longer perceive that it is plunging  downwards, choosing to do and say everything which is adverse to its own salvation. And just as madmen, when  once they have fallen out of a sound condition, are neither afraid nor ashamed of anything, but fearlessly dare all  manner of things, even if they have to fall into fire, or deep water, or down a precipice; so they who have been  seized by the frenzy of despair are hence forward unmanageable, rushing into vice in every direction, and if death  does not come to put a stop to this madness, and Vehemence, they do themselves infinite mischief. Therefore I  entreat you, before you are deeply steeped in this drunkenness, recover your senses and rouse yourself up, and  shake off this Satanic fit, doing it gently and gradually if it be not possible to effect it all at once. For to me indeed  the easier course seems to be to wrench yourself once for all out of all the cords which hold you down, and transfer  yourself to the school of repentance. But if this seems to you a difficult thing, that you should be willing to enter on  the path which leads to better things, simply enter upon it, and lay hold on which once was yours, let us see you  once again standing on the pinnacle of virtue, and  in the same condition of perseverance as before. Spare those  who are made to stumble on thy account, those who ate falling, who are becoming more indolent, who are  despairing of the way of virtue. For dejection now holds possession of the band of brethren, while pleasure and  cheerfulness prevail in the councils of the unbelieving, and of those young men who are disposed to indolence. But  if thou return again to thy former strictness of life the result will be reversed, and all our shame will be transferred  to them, while we shall enjoy much confidence, seeing thee again crowned and proclaimed victor with more  splendour than before. For such victories bring greater renown and pleasure. For you will not only receive the  reward of your own achievements, but also of the exhortation and consolation of others, being exhibited as a  striking model, if ever any one should fall into the same condition, to encourage him to get up and recover himself.  Do not neglect such an opportunity of gain, nor drag our souls down into Hades with sorrow, but let us breathe  freely again, and shake off the cloud of despondency which oppresses us on thy account. For now, passing by the  consideration of our own troubles, we mourn over thy calamities, but if thou art willing to come to thy senses, and  see clearly, and to join the angelic host, you will release us from this sorrow, and will take away the greater part of  sins. For that it is possible for those who have come back again after repentance to shine with much lustre, and  oftentimes more than those who have never fallen at all, I have demonstrated from the divine writings. Thus at  least both the publicans and the harlots inherit the kingdom of Heaven, thus many of the last are placed before the  first.
    17. But I will tell thee also of events which have happened in our own time, and of which thou mayest thyself  have been witness You know probably that young Phoenician, the son of Urbanus, who was untimely left an  orphan, but possessed of much money, and many slaves and lands. This man, having in the first place bidden  complete farewell to his studies in the schools, and having laid aside the gay clothing which he formerly wore, and  all his worldly grandeur, suddenly arraying himself in a shabby cloak, and retreating to the solitude of the  mountains, exhibited a high degree of Christian philosophy not merely in proportion to the sacred mysteries, he  made still greater advances in virtue. And all were rejoicing, and a mere youth, should have suddenly trodden all  the pomps of this life under foot, and have ascended to the true height. Now which he

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was in this condition, and an object of admiration, certain corrupt men, who according to the law of kindred had  the oversight of him dragged him back again into the former sea of worldliness. And so, having flung aside all his  habits, he again descended from the mountains into the midst of the forum, and used to go all round the city,  riding on horseback, and accompanied by a large retinue; and he was no longer willing to live even soberly; for  being inflamed by much luxury, he was constrained to fall into foolish love intrigues, and there was no one of those  conversant with him, who did not despair of his salvation; he was encompassed by such a swarm of flatterers,  besides the snares of orphanhood, youth, and great wealth. And persons who readily find fault with everything,  accused those who originally conducted him to this way of life,(1) saying that he had both missed his spiritual aims,  and would no longer be of any use in the management of his own affairs, having prematurely abandoned the  labours of study, and having been consequently unable to derive any benefit therefrom. Now while these things  were of chase, and had thoroughly learned by experience that those who are armed with hope in God ought not to  despair at all of such characters, kept a continual watch upon him, and if ever they saw him appear in the market  place they approached and saluted him. And at first he spoke to them from horseback, askance, as they followed by  his side; so great was the shamelessness which had at first got possession of him. But they, being merciful and  loving men, were not ashamed at all of this treatment, but continually looked to one thing only, how they might  rescue the lamb from the wolves; which in fact they actually accomplished by means of their perseverance. For  afterwards, as if he had been converted by some sudden stroke, and were put to shame by their great assiduity if  ever he saw them in the distance approaching, he would instantly dismount, and bending low would listen silently  in that attitude to all which fell from their lips, and in time he displayed even greater reverence and respect towards  them. And then, by the grace of God having gradually rescued him out of all those entanglements, they handed him  over again to his former state of seclusion and devout contemplation. And now he became so illustrious, that his  former life seemed to be nothing in comparison with that which he lived after his fall. For being well aware by  experience of the snare, and having expended all his wealth upon the needy, and released himself from all care of  that kind, he cut off every pretext for an attack from those who wished to make designs upon him; and now  treading the path which leads to heaven, he has already arrived at the very goal of virtue.
    This man indeed fell and rose again while he was still young; but another man, after enduring great toils during  his sojourn in the deserts, with only a single companion, and leading an angelic life, and being now on the way to  old age, afforded I know not how a little loophole to the evil one, through some Satanic condition of mind, and  carelessness; and although he had never seen a woman since he transferred himself to the monastic life, he fell into  a passionate desire for intercourse with women. And first of all he besought his companion to supply him with  meat and wine, and threatened, if he did not receive it, that he would go down into the market get some handle  and pretext for returning into the city. The other being perplexed at these things, and fearing, that if he hindered  this he might drive him into some great evil, suffered him to have his fill of this craving. But when his companion  perceived that this was a stale device, he openly threw off shame, and unmasked his pretence, and said that he must  positively himself go down to the city, and as the other had not power to prevent him, he desisted at last from his  efforts, and following him at a distance, watched to see what the meaning of this return could possibly be. And  having seen him enter a brothel, and knowing that he had intercourse with a harlot there, he waited until he had  satiated that foul desire, and then, when he came out, he received him with uplifted hands, and having embraced  and fervently kissed him, without uttering any rebuke on account of what had happened he only besought him,  seeing that he had satiated his desire, to return again to his dwelling in the wilderness. And the other, of  compunction for the deed which he had in another hut, and, having dosed the doors of the dwelling, to supply him  with bread and And when he had said this, and persuaded him, he shut himself up, and was there continually, with  fastings and prayers and tears, wiping off from his soul the defilement of his sin. And not long after when a  drought had

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settled on the neighbouring region, and all in that country were lamenting over it, a certain man was commanded  by a vision to depart, and exhort this recluse to pray, and put an end to the drought. And when he had departed,  taking companions with him, they found the man, who formerly dwelt with him, there alone; and on enquiring  concerning the other they were informed that he was dead. But they, believing that they were deceived, betook  themselves again to prayer, and again by means of the same vision heard the same things which they had heard  before. And then, standing round the man who reply had deceived them, they besought him to show the other to  them; for they declared that he was not dead but living. When he heard this, and perceived that their compact was  exposed, he brought them to that holy man; and they having broken through the wall (for he had even blocked up  the entrance) and having all of them entered, prostrating themselves at his feet, and informing him of what had  happened, besought him to succour them against the famine. But he at first resisted, saying that he was far from  such confidence as that; for he ever had his sin before his eyes, as if it had only just taken place; but when they  related all which had happened to them they then induced him to pray; and having prayed he put an end to the  drought. And what happened to that young man who was at first a disciple of John the son of Zebedee, but  afterwards for a long time became a robber chief, and then again,having been captured by the holy hands of the  blessed Apostle returned from the robber dens and lairs to his former virtue, thou art not ignorant, but knowest it  all as accurately as I do: and I have often heard thee admiring the great condescension of the saint, and how he first  of all kissed the blood-stained hand of the young man, embracing him, and so brought him back to his former  condition.(1)
    18. Moreover also the blessed Paul not only welcomes Onesimus the unprofitable runaway thief, because he was  converted, but also asks his master to treat him who had repented, on equal terms of honour with his teacher, thus  saying: "I beseech thee for my son Onesimus, whom I have begotten in my bonds, who was aforetime unprofitable  to thee, but now is profitable to thee and to me, whom I have sent back to thee; thou therefore receive him, that is  my very heart, whom I would fain have kept with me, that in thy behalf he might minister unto me in the bonds of  the Gospel; but without thy mind I would do nothing that thy goodness should not be as of necessity, but of free  will. For perhaps he was therefore pared from thee for a season that thou shouldest have him back for ever; no  longer as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved, specially unto me; but how much rather to thee both in  the flesh and in the Lord? If then thou holdest me as a partner, receive him as myself."(2) And the same apostle, in  writing to the Corinthians, said, "Lest when I come I should mourn over many of those who have sinned  beforehand and have not repented;"(3) and again, "as I have said beforehand, so do I again declare beforehand,  that if I come again I will not spare."(3) Seest thou who they are whom he mourns, and whom he does not spare?  Not those who have sinned, but those who have not repented, and not simply those who have not repented, but  those who have been called once and again to this work, and would not be persuaded. For the expression "I have  said beforehand and do now say beforehand, as if I were present the second time, and being absent I write,"  implies exactly that which we are afraid may take place now in our case. For although Paul is not present who then  threatened the Corinthians,  yet Christ is present, who was then speaking through his mouth; and if we continue  obdurate, He will not spare us, but will smite us with a mighty blow, both in this world and the next. "Let us then  anticipate His countenance by our confessor"(4) let us pour out our hearts before Him. For "thou hast sinned," we  read, "do not add thereto any more, and the first instance."(6) Let us not then tarry for the accuser, but let us seize  his place beforehand, and so let us make our judge more merciful by means of our candour. Now I know indeed  that you confess your sins, and call yourself miserable above measure; but this is not the only thing I wish, but I  long For as long as you make this confession unfollow it. For no one will be able to do anything with zeal and the  proper method, unless he has first of all persuaded himself that he does it to advantage. For even the sower, was  not to gain any good from his labor? So

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then he also who sows words, and tears, and confession, unless he does this with a good hope, will not be able to  desist from sinning, being still held down by the evil of despair; but just as that husbandman who despairs of any  crop of fruit will not in future hinder any of those things which damage the seeds, so also he who sows his  confession with tears, but does not expect any advantage for this, will not be able to overthrow those things which  spoil repentance. And what does spoil repentance is being again entangled in the same evils. "For there is one" we  read, "who builds, and one who pulls down, what have they gained more than toil? He who is dipped in water  because of contact with a dead body, and then touches it again, what has he gained by his washing?"(1) Even so if a  man fasts because of his sins, and goes his way again, and doeth the same things, who will hearken to his prayer?  And again we read "if a man goes back from righteousness to sin the Lord will prepare him for the sword,"(2) and,  "as a dog when he has returned to his vomit, and become odious, so is a fool who by his wickedness has returned  to his sin."(3)
    19. Do not then merely set forth thy sins being thy own accuser, but as one who ought to be justified by the  method of repentance; for thus thou wilt be able to put thy soul, which makes its confession, to shame, so that it  falls no more into the same sins. For to accuse ourselves vehemently and call ourselves sinners is common, so to  say, to unbelievers also. Many at least of those who belong to the stage, both men and women, who habitually  practise the greatest shamelessness, call themselves miserable, but not with the proper aim. Wherefore I would not  even call this confession; for the publication of their sins is not accompanied with compunction of soul, nor with  bitter tears, nor with conversion of life, but in fact some of them make it in quest of a reputation for the hearers  for candor of speech. For offences do not seem so grievous when some other person announces them as when the  perpetrator himself reports them. And they who under the influence of strong despair have lapsed into a state of  insensibility, and treat the opinion of their fellowmen with contempt proclaim their own evil deeds with much  effrontery, as if they were the doings of others. But I do not wish thee to be any of these, nor to be brought out of  despair to confession, but with a good expectation, after cutting away the whole root of despair, to manifest zeal in  the contrary direction. And what is the root and mother of this despair? It is indolence; or rather one would not  call it the root only, but also the nurse and mother. For as in the case of wool decay breeds moths, and is in turn  increased by them; so here also indolence breeds despair, and is itself nourished in turn by despair; and thus  supplying each other with this accursed exchange, they acquire no small additional power. If any one then cuts one  of these off, and hews it in pieces, he will easily be able to get the better of the remaining one. For on the one hand  he who is not indolent will never fall into despair, and on the other he who is supported by good hopes, and does  not despair of himself, will not be able to fall into indolence. Pray then, wrench this pair asunder, and break the  yoke in pieces, by which I mean a variable and yet depressing habit of thought; for that which holds these two  things together is not uniform, but manifold in shame and character. And what is this? It happens that one who has  repented has done many great and good deeds, but meanwhile he has committed some sin equivalent to those  good deeds, and this especially is sufficient to plunge him into despair, as if the buildings which had been set up  were all pulled down, and all the labor which he had bestowed upon them had been vain and come to naught. But  this must be taken into account, and such reasoning must be repelled, because, if we do not store up in good time a  measure of good deeds equivalent to the sins which are committed after them, nothing can hinder us from sinking  grievously and completely. But as it is, (right action(4)) like some stout breastplate does not suffer the sharp and  bitter dart to accomplish its work, but even if it is itself cut through, it averts much danger from the body. For he  who departs to the other world with many deeds both good and bad, will have some alleviation in respect of the  punishment and the torment there; but if a man is destitute of these good works, and takes only the evil with him,  it is impossible to say what great sufferings he will undergo, when he is conducted to everlasting punishment. For a  balance will be struck there between the evil deeds and those which are not such; and should the latter weigh down  the scale they will to no small extent have saved the doer of them, and the injury arising from the doing of evil  deeds is not so strong as to drag the man down from the foremost place; but if the evil deeds exceed, they carry  him off into hell fire, because the number of his good actions is not so great as to be able to make a stand against  this violent impulse. And these things are not merely sug-

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gested by our own reasoning, but declared also by the divine oracles; for He Himself saith, "He shall reward every  man according to his works."(1) And not only in hell, but also in the kingdom one will find many differences; for  He saith "in my Fathers house are many mansions;"(2) and, "there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of  the moon."(3) And what wonder, if in dealing with such great matters he has spoken with such precision, seeing  that He declares there is a difference in that world even between one star and another? Knowing then all these  things let us never desist from doing good deeds, nor grow weary, nor, if we should be unable to reach the rank of  the sun or of the moon, let us despise that of the stars. For if only we display thus much virtue at least, we shall be  able to have a place in Heaven. And though we may not have become gold, or precious stone yet if we only occupy  the rank of silver we shall abide in the foundation; only let us not fall back again into that material which the fire  readily devours, nor, when we are unable to accomplish great things, desist also from small ones, for this is the part  of extreme folly, which I trust we may not experience. For just as material wealth increases if the lovers of it do not  despise even the smallest gains, so is it also with the spiritual. For it is a strange thing that the judge should not  overlook the reward of even a cup of cold water, but that we, if our achievements are not altogether great, should  neglect the performance of little things. For he who does not despise the lesser things, will exercise much zeal  concerning the greatest; but he who overlooks the former will also abstain from the latter; and to prevent this  taking place Christ has defined great rewards even for these small things. For what is easier than to visit the sick?  Yet even this He requites with a great recompense. Lay hold then on eternal life, delight in the Lord, and supplicate  Him; take up again the wealth to slip past thee. For if thou shouldst continue provoking God by thy deeds, thou  wilt destroy thyself; but if before much damage has been done, and all thy husbandry has been overwhelmed with a  flood, thou wilt dam up the channels of wickedness, thou wilt be able to recover again what has been spoiled and to  add to it not a lithe further produce: Having considered all these things, shake off the dust, get up from the ground,  and thou wilt be formidable to the adversary; for he himself indeed has overthrown thee, as if thou wouldst never  rise again; but if he sees thee again lifting up thy hands against him, he will receive such an unexpected blow that he  will be less forward in trying to upset thee again, and thou thyself wilt be more secure against receiving any wound  of that kind in future. For if the calamities of others are sufficient to instruct us, much more those which we have  ourselves undergone. And this is what I expect speedily to see in the case of thy own dear self, and that by the grace  of God thou art again become more radiant than before, and displaying such great virtue, as even to be a protector  of others in the world above. Only do not despair do not fall back; for I will not cease repeating this in every form  of speech, and wherever I see you, as well as by the lips of others; and if you listen to this you will no longer need  other remedies.

                               LETTER II.

    1. If it were possible to express tears and groans by means of writing I would have filled the letter, which I now  send to you, with them. Now I weep not because you are anxious concerning your patrimony, but because you have  blotted out your name from the list of the brethren, because you have trampled upon the covenant which you had  made with Christ. This is the reason why I shudder, this is the cause of my distress. On this account do I fear and  tremble, knowing that the rejection of this covenant will bring great condemnation upon those who have enlisted  for this noble warfare, and owing to indolence have deserted their proper rank. And that the punishment for such  is heavier than for others is manifest for this reason. For no one would indite a private individual for shunning  military service; but when once a man has become a soldier, if he be caught deserting the ranks, he runs a risk of  suffering the most his remaining in a fallen condition; neither is it a grievous thing for the warrior to be wounded,  but to despair after the blow has been struck, and to neglect the wound. No merchant, having once suffered  shipwreck, and lost his freight, desists from sailing, but again  crosses the sea and the billows, and the broad ocean,  and recovers his former wealth. We see athletes also who after many falls have gained the wreath of victory; and  often, before gained the wreath of now, a soldier who has once ran away has turned out a champion, and prevailed  over the enemy. Many also of those who have denied

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Christ owing to the pressure of torture, have fought again, and departed at last with the crown of martyrdom upon  their brows. But if each of these had despaired after the first blow, he would not have reaped the subsequent  benefits. Even so now, beloved Theodore, because the enemy has shaken thee a little from thy position, do not  thou give thyself an additional thrust into the pit, but stand up bravely, and return speedily to the place from which  thou hast departed, and deem not this blow, lasting but for a little while, any reproach. For if you saw a soldier  returning wounded from war you would not reproach him; for it is a reproach to cast away one's arms, and to hold  aloof from the enemy; but as long as a man stands fighting, even if he be wounded and retreat for a short time, no  one is so unfeeling or inexperienced in matters of war, as to find any fault with him. Exemption from wounds is  the lot of non-combatants; but those who advance with much spirit against the enemy may sometimes be wounded  and fail; which is exactly what has now occurred in your case; for suddenly, while you attempted to destroy the  serpent you were bitten. But take courage, you need a little vigilance, and then not a trace of this wound will be  left; or rather by the grace of God thou wilt crush the head of the Evil One himself; nor let it trouble thee that thou  art soon impeded, even at the outset. For the eye, the keen eye of the Evil One perceived the excellence of thy soul,  and guessed from many tokens that a brave adversary would wax strong against him; for he expected that one who  had promptly attacked him with such great vehemence would easily overcome him, if he persevered. Therefore he  was diligent, and watchful, and mightily stirred up against thee, or rather against his own head, if thou wilt bravely  stand thy ground. For who did not marvel at thy quick, sincere, and fervent change to good? For delicacy of food  was disregarded, and costliness of raiment was despised, all manner of parade was put down, and all the zeal for  the wisdom of this world was suddenly transferred to the divine oracles; whole days were spent in reading, and  whole nights in prayer; no mention was made of thy family dignity, nor any thought taken of thy wealth; but to  rasp the knees and hasten to the feet of the brethren thou didst recognize as something nobler than high birth.  These things irritated the Evil One, these things stirred him up to more vehement strife; but sleeping on the bare  ground and the rest of the discipline he overthrew you, even then there was no need to despair; nevertheless one  would have said that the damage was great if defeat had taken place after many toils, and labour, and victories; but  inasmuch as he upset you as soon as you had stripped for the contest with him, all that he accomplished was to  render you more eager to do battle with him. For that fell pirate attacked thee just as thou wast sailing out of the  harbor, not when thou hadst returned from thy trading voyage. bringing a full cargo. And as when one has  attempted to stay a fierce lion, and has only grazed his skin, he has done him no injury but only stirred him up the  more against himself, and rendered him more confident and difficult to capture afterwards: even so the common  enemy of all has attempted to strike a deep blow, but has missed it, and consequently made his antagonist more  vigilant and wary for the future.
    2. For human nature is a slippery thing, quick to be cheated, but quick also to recover from deceit and as it  speedily falls, so also does it readily rise. For even that blessed man, I mean David the chosen king and prophet  after he had accomplished many good deeds, betrayed himself to be a man, for once he fell in love with a strange  woman, nor did he stop there but he committed adultery on account of his passion, and he committed murder on  account of his adultery; but he did not try to inflict a third blow upon himself because he had already received two  such heavy ones, but immediately hastened to the physician, and applied the remedies, fasting, tears, lamentation,  constant prayer, frequent confession of the sin; and so by these means he propitiated God, insomuch that he was  restored to his former position, insomuch that after adultery and murder the memory of the father was able to  shield the idolatry of the son. For the son of this David Solomon by name, was caught by the same snare as his  father, and out of complaisance to women fell away from the God of his fathers.(1) Thou seest how great an evil it  is not to master pleasure, not to upset the ruling principle in nature, and for a man to be the slave of women. This  same Solomon then, who was formerly righteous and wise but who ran a risk of being deprived of all the kingdom  on account of his sin, God permitted to keep the sixth part of the government on account of the renown of his  father.(2)
    Now if thy zeal had been concerned with worldly eloquence, and then thou hadst given it up in despair, I should  have reminded thee of the law courts and the judgment seat and the victories achieved there and the former

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boldness of thy speech, and should have exhorted thee to return to your labours in that behalf: but inasmuch as our  race is for heavenly things, and we take no account of the things which are on each, I put thee in remembrance of  another court of justice, and of that fearful and tremendous seat of judgment; "for we must all be made manifest  before the judgment seat of Christ."(1) "And He will then sit as judge who is now disregarded by thee. What shall  we say then, let me ask at that time? or what defence shall we make, if we continue to disregard Him? What shall  we say then? Shall we plead the anxieties of business? Nay He has anticipated this by saying, "What shall it profit a  man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"(2) Or that we have been deceived by others? But it did not  help Adam in his defence to screen himself behind his wife, and say "the woman whom thou gavest me, she  deceived me;"(3) even as the serpent was no excuse for the woman. Terrible, O beloved Theodore, is that tribunal,  one which needs no accusers and waits for no witnesses; for "all things are naked and laid open to Him"(4) who  judges us, and we must submit to give an account not of deeds only but also of thoughts; for that judge is quick to  discern the thoughts and intents of the heart.(5) But perhaps you will allege weakness of nature as the excuse, and  inability to bear the yoke. And what kind of defence is this, that you have not strength to bear the easy yoke, that  you are unable to carry the light burden? Is recovery from fatigue a grievous and oppressive thing? For it is to this  that Christ calls us, saying," Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest; take my  yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light"(6)  For what can be lighter I ask, than to be released from anxieties, and business, and fears, and labors, and to stand  outside the rough billows of life, and dwell in a tranquil haven?
    3. Which of all things in the world seems to you most desirable and enviable? No doubt you will say government,  and wealth, and public reputation. And yet what is more wretched than these things when they are compared with  the liberty of Christians. For the ruler is subjected to the wrath of the populace and to the irrational impulses of the  multitude, and to the fear of higher rulers, and to anxieties on behalf of those who are ruled, and the ruler of  yesterday becomes a private citizen to-day; for this present life in no wise differs from a stage, but just as there, one  man fills the position of a king, a second of a general, and a third of a soldier, but when evening has come on the  king is no king, the ruler no ruler, and the general no general, even so also in that day each man will receive his  due reward not according to the outward part which he has played but according to his works. Well ! is glory a  precious thing which perishes like the power of grass? or wealth, the possessors of which are pronounced unhappy?  "For woe" we read, "to the rich;"(7) and again, "Woe unto them who trust in their strength and boast themselves  in the multitude of their riches !"(8) But the Christian never becomes a private person after being a ruler, or a poor  man after being rich, or without honour after being held in honour; but he abides rich even when he is poor, and is  exited when he strives to humble himself; and from the rule which he exercises no human being can depose him,  but only one of those rulers who are under the power of this world's potentate of darkness.
    "Marriage is right," you say; I also assent to this. For "marriage," we read, "is honourable and the bed undefiled;  but fornicators and adulterers God will judge;"(9) but it is no longer possible for thee to observe the right  conditions of marriage. For if he who has been attached to a heavenly bridegroom deserts him, and joins himself to  a wife the act is adultery, even if you call it marriage ten thousand times over; or rather it is worse than adultery in  proportion as God is greater than man. Let no one deceive thee saying: "God hath not forbidden to marry;" I  know this as well as you; He has not forbidden to marry, but He has forbidden to commit adultery, may you be  preserved from ever engaging thyself in marriage ! And why dost thou marvel if marriage is judged as if it were  adultery, when God is disregarded? Slaughter has brought about righteousness, and mercy has been a cause of  condemnation more than slaughter; because the latter has been according to the mind of God but the former has  been forbidden. It was reckoned to Phinees for righteousness that he pierced to death the woman who committed  fornication, together with the fornicator;(10) but Samuel, that saint of God although he wept and mourned and  entreated for whole nights, could not rescue Saul from the condemnation which God issued against him, because  he saved, contrary to the design of God the king of the allen tribes whom he ought to have slain.(11) If then mercy  has been a cause of condemnation more than

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slaughter because God was disobeyed, what wonder is it if marriage condemns more than adultery when it involves  the rejection of Christ? For, as I said at the beginning, if you were a private person no one would indict you for  shunning to serve as a soldier; but now thou art no longer thy own master, being engaged in the service of so great  a king. For if the wife hath not power over her own body,  but the husband,(1) much more they who live in Christ  must be unable to have authority over  their body. He who is now despised, the same will then be our judge; think  ever on Him and the river of fire: "For a river of fire" we read, "winds before His face;"(2) for it is impossible for  one who has been delivered over by Him to the fire to expect any end of his punishment. But the unseemly  pleasures of this life no-wise differ from shadows and dreams; for before the deed of sin is completed, the  conditions of pleasure are extinguished; and the punishments for these have no limit. And the sweetness lasts for a  little while but the pain is everlasting.
    Tell me, what is there stable in this world? Wealth which often does not last even to the evening? Or glory? Hear  what a certain righteous man says: "My life is swifter than a runner."(3) For as they dash away before they stand  still, even so does this glory take to flight before it has fairly reached us. Nothing is more precious than the soul;  and even they who have gone to the extremity of folly have not been ignorant of this; for "there is no equivalent of  the soul" is the saying of a heathen poet.(4) I know that thou hast become much weaker for the struggle with the  Evil One; I know that thou art standing in the very midst of the flame of pleasures; but if thou wilt say to the  enemy "We do not serve thy pleasures, and we do not bow down to the root of all thy evils; if thou wilt bend thine  eye upward, the Saviour will even now shake out the fire, and will burn up those who have flung thee into it, and  will send to thee in the midst of the furnace a cloud, and dew, and a rustling breeze, so that the fire may not lay  hold of thy thought or thy conscience. Only do not consume thyself with fire. For the arms and engines of  besiegers have often been unable to destroy the fortification of cities, but the treachery of one or two of the citizens  dwelling inside has betrayed them to the enemy without any trouble on his part. And now if none of thy thoughts  within betray thee, should the Evil One bring countless engines against thee from without he will bring them in  vain.
4. Thou hast by the grace of God many and great men who sympathize with thy trouble, who encourage you to the  fight, who tremble for thy soul,--Valerius the holy man of God, Florentius who is in every respect his brother,  Porphyrius who is wise with the wisdom of Christ, and many others. These are daily mourning, and praying for  you without ceasing; and they would have obtained what they asked for, long ago, if only thou hadst been willing to  withdraw thyself a little space out of the hands of the enemy. Now then is it not strange that, whilst others do not  even now despair of thy salvation, but are continually praying that they may have their member restored to them,  thou thyself, having once fallen, art unwilling to get up again, and remainest prostrate, all but crying aloud to the  enemy: "Slay me, smite me, spare not?" "Does he who falls not rise up again ?"(5) speaks the divine oracle. But  thou art striving against this and contradicting it; for if one who has fallen despairs it is as much as to say that he  who falls does not rise up again I entreat thee do not so great a wrong to thyself; do not pour upon us such a flood  of sorrow. I do not say at the present time, when thou hast not yet completed thy twentieth year, but even if, after  achieving many things, and spending thy whole life in Christ thou hadst, in extreme old age, experienced this  attack, even then it would not have been right to despair, but to call to mind the robber who was justified on the  cross, the labourers who wrought about the eleventh hour, and received the wages of the whole day. But as it is not  well that those who have fallen near the very extremity of life should abandon hope, if they be sober minded, so on  the other hand it is not safe to feed upon this hope, and say, "Here for a while, I will enjoy the sweets of life, but  afterwards, when I have worked for a short time, I shall receive the wages of the whole working time. For I  recollect hearing you often say, when many were exhorting you to frequent the schools;(6) "But what if I bring my  life to a bad end in a short space of time, how shall I depart to Him who has said ' Delay not to turn to the Lord,  nor put off day after day?' "(7) Recover this thought, and stand in fear of the thief; for by this name Christ calls our  departure hence, because it comes upon us unawares. Consider the anxieties of life which befall us, both those  which are personal to ourselves, and which are common to us with others, the fear (of rulers, the envy of citizens,  the danger which

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often hangs over us imperilling even life itself, the labours, the distresses, the servile flatteries, such as are  unbecoming even to slaves if they be earnest minded mere the fruit of our labours coming to an end in this world,  a fact which is the most distressing of all. It has been the lot indeed of many to miss the enjoyment of the things  for which they have laboured, and after having consumed the prime of their manhood in labours and perils, just  when they hoped that they should receive their reward they have departed taking nothing with them. For if, after  undergoing many danger, and completing many campaigns, one will scarcely look upon an earthly king with  confidence, how will any one be able to behold the heavenly king, if he has fired and fought for another all his  time.
    5. Would you have me speak of the domestic cares of wife, and children and slaves? It is an evil thing to wed a  very poor wife, or a very rich one; for the former is injurious to the husbands means, the latter to his authority and  independence. It is a grievous thing to have children, still more grievous not to have any; for in the latter case  marriage has been to no purpose, in the former a bitter bondage has to be undergone. If a child is sick, it is the  occasion of no small fear; if he dies an untimely death, there is inconsolable grief; and at every stage of growth  there are various anxieties on their account, and many fears and toils. And what is one to say to the rascalities of  domestic slaves? Is this then life Theodore, when one's soul is distracted in so many directions, when a man has to  serve so many, to live for so many, and never for himself? Now amongst us, O friend, none of these things  happen, I appeal to yourself as a witness. For during that short time when you were willing to lift your head above  the waves of this world, you know what great cheerfulness and gladness you enjoyed. For there is no man free,  save only he who fives for Christ. He stands superior to all troubles, and if he does not choose to injure himself no  one else will be able to do this, but he is impregnable; he is not stung by the loss of wealth; for he has learned that  we "brought nothing into this world, neither can we carry anything out;"(1) he is not caught by the longings of  ambition or glory; for he has learned that our citizenship is in heaven;(2) no one annoys him by abuse, or provokes  him by blows; there is only one calamity for a Christian which is, disobedience to God; but all the other things,  such as loss of property, exile, peril of life, he does not even reckon to be a grievance at all. And that which all  dread, departure hence to the other world,--this is to him sweeter than life itself. For as when one has climbed to  the top of a cliff and gazes on the sea and those who are sailing upon it, he sees some being washed by the waves,  others running upon hidden rocks, some hurrying in one direction, others being driven in another like prisoners,  by the force of the gale, many actually in the water, some of them using their hands only in the place of a boat and  a rudder, and many drifting along upon a single plank, or some fragment of the vessel, others floating dead, a  scene of manifold and various disaster; even so he who is engaged in the service of Christ drawing himself out of  the turmoil and stormy billows of life takes his seat upon secure and lofty ground. For what position can be loftier  or more secure than that in which a man has only one anxiety, "How he ought to please God ? "(3) Hast thou seen  the shipwrecks, Theodore, of those who sail upon this sea? Wherefore, I beseech thee, avoid the deep water, avoid  the stormy billows, and seize some lofty spot where it is not possible to be captured. There is a resurrection, there  is a judgment, there is a terrible tribunal which awaits us when we have gone out of this world; "we must all stand  before the judgment-seat of Christ."(4) It is not in vain that we are threatened with hell fire, it is not without  purpose that such great blessings have been prepared for us. The things of this life are a shadow, and more naught  even than a shadow, being full of many fears, and many dangers, and extreme bondage. Do not then deprive  thyself both of that world, and of this, when you may gain both, if you please. Now that they who live in Christ will  gain the things of this world Paul teaches us when he says: "But I spare you;"(5) and again "But this I say for your  profit."(6) Seest thou that even here he who cares for the things of the Lord is superior to the man who has  married? It is not possible for one who has departed to the other world to repent; no athlete, when he has quitted  the lists, and the spectators have dispersed, can contend again.
    Be always thinking of these things, and break in pieces the sharp sword of the Evil One, by means of which he  destroys many. And this is despair, which cuts off from hope those who have been overthrown. This is the strong  weapon of the enemy, and the only way in which he holds down those who have been made captives is by binding  them with this chain, which, if we choose, we shall speedily be able to break by the grace of God. I know that I have  exceeded the due measure of a

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letter, but forgive me; for I am not willingly in this condition, but have been constrained by my love and sorrow,  owing to which I forced myself to write this letter also,(1) although many would have prevented me. "Cease  labouring in vain and sowing upon rock" many have been saying to me. But I hearkened to none of them. For  there is hope I said to myself that, God willing, my letter will accomplish something; but if that which we deprecate  should take place, we shall at least have the advantage of escaping self reproach for keeping silence, and we shall  not be worse than sailors on the sea, who, when they behold men of their own craft drifting on a plank, because  their ship has been broken to pieces by the winds and waves, take down their sails, and cast anchor, and get into a  boat and try to rescue the men, although strangers, known to them only in consequence of their calamity. But if  the others were unwilling to be rescued no one would accuse those of their destruction who attempted to save  them. This is what we offer; but we trust that by the grace of God you also will do your part, and we shall again see  you occupying an eminent place in the flock of Christ. In answer to the prayers of the saints may we speedily  receive thee back, dear friend, sound in the true health. If thou hast any regard for us, and hast not utterly cast us  out of thy memory please vouchsafe a reply to our letter; for in so doing thou wilt give us much pleasure.

                        LETTER TO A YOUNG WIDOW.

    1. That you have sustained a severe blow, and that the weapon directed from above has been planted in a vital  part all will readily admit, and none even of the most rigid moralists will deny it; but since they who are stricken  with sorrow ought not to spend their whole time in mourning and tears, but to make good provision also for the  healing of their wounds, lest, if they be neglected their tears should aggravate the wound, and the fire of their  sorrow become inflamed, it is a good thing to listen to words of consolation, and restraining for a brief season at  least the fountain of thy tears to surrender thyself to those who endeavour to console thee. On this account I  abstained from troubling you when your sorrow was at its height, and the thunderbolt had only just fallen upon  you; but having waited an interval and permitted you to take your fill of mourning, now that you are able to look  out a little through the mist, and to open, your ears to those who attempt to comfort you, I also would second the  words of your handmaids by some contributions of my own. For whilst the tempest is still severe, and a full gale of  sorrow is blowing, he who exhorts another to desist from grief would only provoke him to increased lamentations  and having incurred his hatred would add fuel to the flame by such speeches besides being regarded himself as an  unkind and foolish person. But when the troubled water has begun to subside, and God has allayed the fury of the  waves, then we may freely spread the sails of our discourse. For in a moderate storm skill may perhaps play its part  but when the onslaught of the wind is irresistible experience is of no avail. For these reasons I have hitherto held  my peace, and even now have only just ventured to break silence because I have heard from thy uncle that one may  begin to take courage, as some of your more esteemed handmaids are now venturing to discourse at length upon  these matters, women also outside your own household, who are your kinsfolk, or are otherwise qualified for this  office. Now if you allow them to talk to you I have the greatest hope and confidence that you will not disdain my  words but do your best to give them a calm and quiet heating. Under any circumstances indeed the female sex is  the more apt to be sensitive to suffering; but when in addition there is youth, and untimely widowhood, and  inexperience in business, and a great crowd of cares, while the whole life previously has been nurtured in the midst  of luxury, and cheerfulness and wealth, the evil is increased many fold, and if she who is subjected to it does not  obtain help from on high even an accidental thought will be able to unhinge her. Now I hold this to be the  foremost and greatest evidence of God's care concerning thee; for that thou hast not been overwhelmed by grief,  nor driven out of thy natural condition of mind when such great troubles suddenly concurred to afflict thee was  not due to any human assistance but to the almighty hand the understanding of which there is no measure, the  wisdom which is past finding out, the "Father of mercies and the God of all comfort."(1) "For He Himself" it is  said "hath smitten us, and He will heal us; He will strike, and He will dress the wound and make us whole."(2)
    For as long as that blessed husband of thine was with thee, thou didst enjoy honour, and care and zealous  attention; in fact you enjoyed such as you might expect to enjoy from a husband; but since God took him to  Himself He has supplied his place to thee. And this is not my saying but that of the blessed prophet David for he  says "He will take up the fatherless and the widow,"(3) and elsewhere

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he calls Him "father of the fatherless and judge of the widow;"(1) thus in many passages thou wilt see that He  earnestly considereth the cause of this class of mankind.
    2. But lest the continual repetition of this name of widow should upset thy soul, and disconcert thy reason,  having been inflicted on thee in the very flower of thy age, I wish first of all to discourse on this point, and to prove  to you that this name of widow is not a title of calamity but of honour, aye the greatest honour. For do not quote  the erroneous opinion of the world as a testimony, but the admonition of the blessed Paul, or rather of Christ. For  in his utterances Christ was speaking through him as he himself said "If ye seek a proof of Christ who is speaking  in me?"(2) What then does he say? "Let not a widow be enrolled under threescore years of age" and again "but the  younger widows refuse"(3) intending by both these sayings to indicate to us the importance of the matter. And  when he is making regulations about bishops he nowhere prescribes a standard of age, but in this case he is very  particular on the point, and, pray, why so? not because widowhood is greater than priesthood, but because widows  have greater labour to undergo than priests, being encompassed on many sides by a variety of business public and  private. For as an unfortified city lies exposed to all who wish to plunder it, so a young woman living in widowhood  has many who form designs upon her on every side not only those who aim at getting her money but also those  who are bent upon corrupting her modesty. And besides these we shall find that she is subjected to other  conditions also likely to occasion her fall. For the contempt of servants their negligence of business, the loss of that  respect which was formerly paid, the sight of contemporaries in prosperity, and often the hankering after luxury,  induce women to engage in a second marriage. Some there are who do not choose to unite themselves to men by  the law of marriage, but do so secretly and clandestinely. And they act thus in order to enjoy the praise of  widowhood; thus it is a state which seems to be not reproached, but admired and deemed worthy of honour among  men, not only amongst us who believe, but even amongst unbelievers also. For once when I was still a young man  I know that the sophist who taught me(4) (and he exceeded all men in his reverence for the gods) expressed  admiration for my mother before a large company. For enquiring, as was his wont, of those who sat beside him  who I was, and some one having said that I was the son of a woman who was a widow, he asked of me the age of  my mother and the duration of her widowhood, and when I told him that she was forty years of age of which  twenty had elapsed since she lost my father he was astonished and uttered a loud exclamation, and turning to those  present "Heavens!" cried he "what women there are amongst the Christians." So great is the admiration and  praise enjoyed by widowhood not only amongst ourselves, but also a amongst those who are outside the Church.   And being aware of all this the blessed Paul   said "Let not a widow be enrolled under threescore years of age."  And even after this great qualification of age he does not permit her to be ranked in this sacred society but  mentions some additional requisites "well reported of for good works, if she have brought up children if she have  lodged strangers if she have washed the saints feet if she have relieved the afflicted, if she have diligently followed  every good work."(5) Heavens! what testing and scrutiny! how much virtue does he demand from the widow, and  how precisely does he define it! which he would not have done, had he not intended to entrust to her a position of  honour and dignity. And "the younger widows" he says "refuse; and then he adds the reason; "for when they have  waxed wanton against Christ they will marry."(6) By this expression he gives us to understand that they who have  lost their husbands are wedded to Christ in their stead. Observe how he asserts this by way of indicating the mild  and easy nature of this union; I refer to the passage "when they have waxed wanton against Christ they will  marry," as if He were some gentle husband who did not exercise authority over them, but suffered them to live in  freedom. Neither  did Paul confine his discourse on the subject to these remarks, but also in another place again he  has manifested great anxiety about it where he says "Now she who liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth; but  she who is a widow indeed and desolate hath set her  hope in God, and continueth in prayers and supplications day  and night."(7) And writing to the Corinthians he says "But she is more blessed if she abide thus.(8) You see what  great praise is bestowed upon widowhood, and this in the New Testament, when the beauty of virginity also was  clearly brought to light. Nevertheless even the lustre of this state could not obscure the glories of widowhood, which  shines on brightly all the same, keeping its own value. When then we make mention of widowhood from time to  time, do not be cast down, nor consider the matter a reproach; for if this

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be a matter of reproach, far more so is virginity.  But this is not the case; no! God forbid. For inasmuch as we all  admire and welcome women who live continently whilst their husbands are yet alive must we not be delighted with  those who manifest the same good feeling concerning their husbands when they have departed this, life, and praise  them accordingly? As I was saying then, as long as you lived with the blessed Therasius you enjoyed honour and  consideration such as is natural for a wife to receive from a husband; but now in his place you have God who is the  Lord of all, who hath of old been thy protector and will be so now   still more and with yet greater earnestness; and  as I have already said He hath displayed no slight token of his providential care by having preserved thee whole and  unharmed in the midst of such a furnace of anxiety and sorrow, and not suffering thee to undergo anything  undesirable. Now if He has not permitted any shipwreck to take place in the midst of so much rough water, much  more will He preserve thy soul in calm weather and lighten the burden of thy widowhood, and the consequences of  it which seem to be so terrible.
    3. Now if it is not the name of widow which distresses you, but the loss of such a husband I grant you that all the  world over amongst  men engaged in secular affairs there have been few like him, so affectionate, so gentle, so  humble, so sincere, so understanding, so devout. And certainly if he had altogether perished, and utterly ceased to  be, it would be right to be distressed, and sorrowful; but if he has only sailed into the tranquil haven, and taken his  journey to Him who is really his king, one ought not to mourn but to rejoice on these accounts. For this death is  not death, but only a kind of emigration and translation from the worse to the better, from earth to heaven, from  men to angels, and archangels, and Him who is the Lord of angels and archangels. For here on earth whilst he was  serving the  emperor there were dangers to be expected and many plots arising from men who bore ill-will, for in  proportion as his reputation increased   did the designs also of enemies abound; but now that he has departed to  the other world none of these things can be suspected. Wherefore in proportion as you grieve that God has taken  away one who was so good and worthy you ought to rejoice that he has departed in much safety and honour, and  being released from the trouble which besets this present season of danger, is in great peace and tranquillity. For is  it not out of place to acknowledge that heaven is far better than earth, and yet to mourn those who are translated  from this world to the other? For if that blessed husband of thine had been one of those who lived a shameful life  contrary to what God approved it would have been right to bewail and lament for him not only when he had  departed, but whilst he was still living; but inasmuch as he was one of those who are the friends of God we  should  take pleasure in him not only whilst living, but also when he has been laid to rest. And that we ought to act thus  thou hast surely heard the words of the blessed Paul "to depart and to be with Christ which is far better."(1) But  perhaps you long to hear your husband's words, and enjoy the affection which you bestowed upon him, and you  yearn for his society, and the glory which you had on his account, and the splendour, and honour, and security, and  all these things being gone distress and darken  your life. Well! the affection which you be stowed on him you can  keep now just as you formerly did.
    For such is the power of love, it embraces, and unites, and fastens together not only those who are present, and  near, and visible but also those who are far distant; and neither length of time, nor separation in space, nor  anything else of that kind can break up and sunder in pieces the affection of the soul. But if you wish to behold him  face to face (for this I know is what you specially long for) keep thy bed in his honour sacred from the touch of any  other man, and do thy best to manifest a life like his, and then assuredly thou shalt depart one day to join the same  company with him, not to dwell with him for five years as thou didst here, nor for 20, or 100, nor for a thousand  or twice that number but for infinite and endless ages. For it is not any physical relation, but a correspondence in  the way of living which qualifies for the inheritance of those regions of rest. For if it was identity of moral  constitution which brought Lazarus although a stranger to Abraham into the same heavenly bosom with him, and  qualifies many from east and west to sit down with him, the place of rest will receive thee also with the good  Therasius, if thou wilt exhibit the same manner of life as his, and then thou shalt receive him back again no longer  in that corporeal beauty which he had when he departed, but in lustre of another kind, and splendour outshining  the rays of the sun. For this body, even if it reaches a very high standard of beauty is nevertheless perishable; but  the bodies of those who have been well pleasing to God, will be invested with such glory as these eyes cannot even  look upon. And God has furnished us with certain tokens, and obscure indications of these things both in the Old  and in the New

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Dispensation. For in the former the face of Moses shone with such glory as to be intolerable to the eyes of the  Israelites, and in the New the face of Christ shone far more brilliantly than his. For tell me if any one had  promised to make your husband king of all the earth, and then had commanded you to withdraw for twenty years  on his account, and had promised after that to restore him to you with the diadem and the purple, and to place you  again in the same rank with him, would you not have meekly endured the separation with due self-control? Would  you not have been well pleased with the gift, and deemed it a thing worth praying for? Well then submit to this  now, not for the sake of a kingdom on earth, but of a kingdom in Heaven; not to receive him back clad in a vesture  of gold but robed in immortality and glory such as is fitting for them to have who dwell in Heaven. And if you find  the trial very unbearable owing to its long duration, it may be that he will visit you by means of visions and  converse with you as he was wont to do, and show you the face for which you yearn: let this be thy consolation  taking the place of letters, though indeed it is far more definite than letters. For in the latter case there are but lines  traced with the pen to look upon, but in the former you see the form of his visage, and his gentle smile, his figure  and his movements, you hear his speech and recognize the voice which you loved so well.
    4. But since you mourn also over the loss of security which you formerly enjoyed on his account, and perhaps  also for the sake of those great hopes of distinction which were dawning (for I used to hear that he would speedily  arrive at the dignity of praefect, and this, I fancy, it is which more especially upsets and distresses thy soul) consider  I pray the case of those who have been in a higher official position than his, and yet have brought their life to a very  pitiable end. Let me. recall them to your memory: you probably know Theodore of Sicily by reputation:(1) for he  was one of the most distinguished men; he surpassed all in bodily stature and beauty as well as in the confidence  which he enjoyed with the Emperor, and he had more power than any member of the royal household, but he did   not bear this prosperity meekly, and having entered into a plot against the Emperor he was taken prisoner and  miserably beheaded; and his wife who was not a whit inferior to thy noble self in education and birth and all other  respects was suddenly stripped of all her possessions, deprived even of her freedom also, and enrolled amongst the  household slaves, and compelled to lead a life more pitiable than any  bondmaid, having this advantage only over  the rest that owing to the extreme severity of her calamity she moved to tears all who beheld her. And it is said also  that Artemisia who was the wife of a man of high reputation, since he also aimed at usurping the throne, was  reduced to this same condition of poverty, and also to blindness; for the depth of her despondency, and the  abundance of her tears destroyed her sight; and now she has need of persons to lead her by the hand, and to  conduct her to the doors of others that she may obtain the necessary supply of food.(2) And I might mention many  other families which, have been brought down in this way did I not know thee to be too pious and prudent in  disposition to wish to find consolation for thy own calamity out of the misfortunes of others. And the only reason  why I mentioned those instances to which I referred just now was that you might learn that human things are  nothingness but that truly  as the prophet says "all the glory of man is as the flower of grass."(3) For in proportion  to men's elevation and splendour is the ruin wrought for them, not only in the case of those who are under rule,  but also of the rulers themselves. For it would be impossible to find any private family which has been immersed in  such great calamities as the ills in which the imperial house has been steeped. For untimely loss of parents, and of  husbands, and violent forms of death, more outrageous and painful than those which occur in tragedies, especially  beset this kind of government.
    Now passing over ancient times, of those who have reigned in our own generation, nine in all, only two have  ended their life by a natural death; and of the others one was slain by a usurper,(4) one in battle,(5) one by a  conspiracy of his household guards,(6) one by the very man who elected him, and invested him with the purple,(7)  and of their wives some, as it is reported, perished by poison, others died of mere sorrow; while of those who still  survive one, who has an orphan son, is trembling with alarm lest any of those who are in power dreading what  may happen in the future should destroy him;(8) another has reluctantly yielded to much entreaty to return from  the exile into

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which she had been driven by him who held the chief power.(1) And of the wives of the present rulers the one who  has recovered a little from her former calamities has much sorrow mingled with her joy because the possessor of  power is still young and inexperienced and has many designing men on all sides of him;(2) and the other is ready  to die of fear, and spends her time more miserably than criminals condemned to death because her husband ever  since he assumed the crown up to the present day has been constantly engaged in warfare and fighting, and is  more exhausted by the shame and the reproaches which assail him on all sides than by actual calamities.(3) For that  which has never taken place has now come to pass, the barbarians leaving their own country have overrun an  infinite space of our territory,   and that many times over, and having set fire to the land, and captured the towns  they are   not minded to return home again, but after the manner of men who are keeping holiday rather than  making war, they laugh us all to scorn;(4) and it is said that one of their kings declared that he was amazed at the  impudence of our soldiers, who although slaughtered more easily than sheep still expect to conquer, and are not  willing to quit their own country; for he said that he himself was satiated with the work of cutting them to pieces.  Imagine what the feelings of the Emperor and his wife must be on hearing these words!
    5. And since I have made mention of this  war, a great crowd of widows has occurred to me, who in past times  derived very great lustre from the honour enjoyed by their husbands, but now are all arrayed in a dark mourning  robe and spend their whole time in lamentation. For they had not the advantage which was enjoyed by thy dear  self. For thou, my excellent friend, didst see that goodly husband of thine lying on his bed, and didst hear his last  words, and receive his instructions as to what should be done about the affairs of the family, and learn how by the  provisions of his will they were guarded against every kind of encroachment on the part of rapacious and designing  men. And not only this, but also when he was yet lying dead thou didst often fling thyself upon the body, and kiss  his eyes, and embrace him, and wail over him, and thou didst see him conducted to burial with much honour, and  didst everything necessary for his obsequies, as was fitting, and from frequent visits to his grave thou hast no slight  consolation of thy sorrow. But these women have been deprived of all these things, having all sent out their  husbands to war in the hope of receiving them back again, instead of which it has been their lot to receive the bitter  tidings of their death. Neither has any one come back to them with the bodies of their slain, or bringing anything  save a message describing the manner of their death. And some there are who have not even been vouchsafed this  record, or been enabled to learn how their husbands fell, as they were buried beneath a heap of slain in the thick of  battle.
    And what wonder if most of the generals perished thus, when even the Emperor himself having been blockaded  in a certain village with a few soldiers did not dare to go out and oppose the assailants, but remained inside and  when the enemy had set fire to the building was burnt to death together with all that were therein, not men only,  but horses, beams and walls, so that the whole was turned into a heap of ashes? And this was the tale which they  who departed to war with the Emperor brought back to his wife in place of the Emperor himself.(5) For the  splendours of the world differ in no-wise whatever from the things which happen on the stage, and the beauty of  spring flowers. For in the first place they flee away before they have been manifested; and then, even if they have  strength to last a little while, they speedily become ready to decay. For what is more worthless than the honour and  glory which is paid by the multitude? what fruit has it? what kind of profit? what serviceable end does it meet? And  would that this only was the evil! but in fact besides failing to get anything good from the possession, he who owns  this most cruel mistress is continually forced to bear much which is painful and injurious; for mistress she is of  those who own her, and in proportion as she is flattered by her slaves does she exalt herself against them, and ties  them down by increasingly harsh commands; but she would never be able to revenge herself on those who despise  and neglect her; so much fiercer is she than any tyrant and wild beast. For tyrants and wild animals are often  mollified by humouring, but her fury is greatest when we are most complaisant to her, and if she finds any one  who will listen to her, and yield to her in everything there is no kind of command from which in future she can be  induced to abstain.

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Moreover she has also another ally whom one would not do wrong to call her daughter. For after she herself has  grown to maturity and fairly taken root amongst us, she then produces arrogance, a thing which is no less able  than herself to drive the soul of those who possess it into headlong ruin.
    6. Tell me then dost thou lament this that God hath reserved thee from such a cruel bondage, and that He has  barred every avenue against these pestilential diseases? For whilst thy husband was living they ceased not  continually assaulting the thoughts of thy heart, but since his death they have no starting point whence they can lay  hold of thy understanding. This then is a discipline which ought to be practised in future--to abstain from  lamenting the withdrawal of these evils, and from hankering after the bitter tyranny which they exercise. For  where they blow a heavy blast they upset all things from the foundation and shatter them to pieces; and just as  many prostitutes, although by nature ill favoured and ugly, do yet by means of enamels and pigments excite the  feelings of the youthful whilst they are still tender, and when they have got them under their control treat them  more insolently than any slave; so also do these passions, vainglory and arrogance, defile the souls of men more  than any other kind of pollution.
    On this account also wealth has seemed to the majority of men to be a good thing; at least when it is stripped of  this passion of vainglory it will no longer seem desirable. At any rate those who have been permitted to obtain in  the midst of their poverty popular glory have no longer preferred wealth, but rather have despised much gold when  it was bestowed upon them. And you have no need to learn from me who these men were, for you know them  better than I do, Epaminondas, Socrates, Aristeides, Diogenes, Krates who turned his own land into a sheep  walk.(1) The others indeed, inasmuch as it was not possible for them to get rich, saw glory brought to them in  the  midst of their poverty, and straightway  devoted themselves to it, but this man threw away even what he possessed;  so infatuated were they in the pursuit of this cruel monster. Let us not then weep because God has rescued us from  this shameful thraldom which is an  object of derision and of much reproach; for there is nothing splendid in it save  the name it bears, and in reality it places those who possess it in a position which belies its appellation, and there is  no one who does not laugh to scorn the man who does anything with a view to glory. For it is only he who has not  an eye to this who will be enabled to win respect and glory; but he who sets a great value on popular glory, and  does and endures everything for the sake of obtaining it is the very man who will fail to attain it, and be subjected  to all the exact opposites of glory, ridicule, and accusation, scoffing, enmity and hatred. And this is wont to happen  not only among men, but also among you women, and indeed more especially in your case. For the woman who is  unaffected in mien, and gait, and dress, and seeks no honour from any one is admired by all women, and they are  ecstatic in their praise and call her blessed, and invoke all manner of good things upon her; but a vain-glorious  woman they behold with aversion and detestation, and avoid her like some wild beast and load her with infinite  execrations and abuse. And not only do we escape these evils by refusing to accept popular glory, but we shall gain  the highest advantages in addition to those which have been already mentioned, being trained gradually to loosen  our hold of earth and move in the direction of heaven, and despise all worldly things. For he who feels no need of  the honour which comes from men, will perform with security whatever good things he does, and neither in the  troubles, nor in the prosperities of this life will he be very seriously affected; for neither can the former depress  him, and cast him down, nor can the latter elate and puff him up, but in precarious and troubled circumstances he  himself remains exempt from change of any kind. And this I expect will speedily be the case with your own soul,  and having once for all torn yourself away from all worldly interests you will display amongst us a heavenly  manner of life, and in a little while will laugh to scorn the glory which you now lament, and despise its hollow and  vain mask. But if you long for the security which you formerly enjoyed owing to your husband, and the protection  of your property, and immunity from the designs of any of those persons who trample upon the misfortunes of  others "Cast thy care upon the Lord and He will nourish thee."(2) "For look," it is said, "to past generations and  see, who ever placed his hope on the Lord and was put to shame, or who ever called upon Him, and was neglected,  or who ever remained constant to His commandments and was forsaken?"(3) For He who has alleviated this  intolerable calamity, and placed you even now in a state of tranquillity will also avert impending evils; for that you  will never receive another blow more severe than this you would yourself admit.

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Having then so bravely borne present troubles, and this when you were inexperienced, you will far more easily  endure future events should any of the things contrary to our wishes, which God forbid, occur. Therefore seek  Heaven, and all things which conduce to life in the other world, and none of the things here will be able to harm  thee, not even the world-ruler of darkness himself, if only we do not injure ourselves. For if any one deprives us of  our substance, or hews our body in pieces, none of these things concern us, if our soul abides in its integrity.
    7. Now, once for all, if you wish your property to abide with you in security and yet further to increase I will  show thee the plan, and the place where none of those who have designs upon it will be allowed to enter. What  then is the place? It is Heaven. Send away thy possessions to that good husband of thine and neither thief, nor  schemer, nor any other destructive thing will be able to pounce upon them. If you deposit these goods in the other  world, you will find much profit arising from them. For all things which we plant in Heaven yield a large and  abundant crop, such as might naturally be expected from things which have their roots in Heaven. And if  you do  this, see what blessings you will enjoy, m the first place eternal life and the things promised to those who love God,  "which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have they entered into the heart of man," and in the second place  perpetual intercourse with thy good husband; and you will relieve yourself from the cares and fears, and dangers,  and designs, and enmity and hatred which beset you here. For as long as you are surrounded with this property  there will probably be some to make attempts upon it; but if you transfer it to Heaven, you will lead a life of  security and safety, and much tranquillity, enjoying independence combined with godliness. For it is very  irrational, when one wishes to buy land, and is seeking for productive ground, if, Heaven being proposed to him  instead of earth, and the possibility presented of obtaining an estate there he abides still on earth, and puts up with  the toils that are connected with it; for it often disappoints our hopes.
    But since thy soul is grievously upset and vexed on account of the expectation often entertained that thy husband  would attain the rank of prefect, and the thought that he was untimely snatched away from that dignity consider  first of all this fact, that even if this hope was a very well grounded one nevertheless it was only a human hope,  which often falls to the ground; and we see many things of this kind happening in life, those which were  confidently expected having remained unfulfilled, whereas those which never even entered the mind have  frequently come to pass, and this we constantly see occurring everywhere in cases of governments and kingdoms,  and inheritances, and marriages. Wherefore even if the opportunity were very near at hand, yet as the proverb says  "between the cup and the lip there is many a slip" and the Scripture saith "from the morning until the evening the  time is changed."(1)
    So also a king who is here to-day is dead tomorrow; and again this same wise man illustrating the reversal of  men's hopes says "many tyrants have sat down upon the ground, and one that was never thought of has worn the  crown."(2) And it was not absolutely certain that if he lived he would arrive at this dignity; for that which belongs  to the future is uncertain, and causes us to have various suspicions. For on what grounds was it evident that had he  lived he would have attained   that dignity and that things would not have  turned out the other way, and that he  would have lost the office he actually held either from falling a victim to disease, or from being exposed to the envy  and ill will of those who wished to excel him in prosperity, or from suffering some other grievous misfortune. But  let us suppose, if you please, that it was perfectly evident that in any case had he survived he would have obtained  this high distinction; then in proportion to the magnitude of the dignity would have been the increased dangers,  and anxieties, and intrigues which he must have encountered. Or put these even on one side, and let us suppose  him to traverse that sea of difficulties safely, and in much tranquillity; then tell me what is the goal? not that which  he has now reached; no, not that, but something different, probably unpleasant and undesirable. In the first place  his sight of heaven, and heavenly things would have been delayed, which is no small loss to those who have put  their trust in things to come; and in the next place, even had he lived a very pure life yet the length of his life and  the exigencies of his high office would have prevented his departing in such a pure condition as has now been the  case. In fact it is uncertain whether he might not have undergone many changes and given way to indolence before  he breathed his last. For now we are confident that by the grace of God he has taken his flight to the region of rest,  because he had not committed himself to any of those deeds which exclude from the kingdom of Heaven; but in  that case after long contact with public busi-

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ness, he might probably have contracted great  defilement. For it is an exceedingly rare thing for one who is  moving in the midst of such great evils to hold a straight course, but to go   astray, both wittingly and against his  will, is a   natural thing, and one which constantly occurs. But, as it is, we have been relieved. from this  apprehension, and we are firmly persuaded that in the great day he will appear in   much radiance, shining forth  near the King, and going with the angels in advance of Christ and clad with the robe of unutterable glory, and  standing by the side of the King as he gives judgment, and acting as one of His chief ministers. Wherefore desisting  from mourning and lamentation do thou hold on to the same way of life as his, yea even let it be more exact, that  having speedily attained an equal standard of virtue with him, you may inhabit the same abode and be united to  him again through the everlasting ages, not in this union of marriage but another far better. For this is only a  bodily kind of intercourse, but then there will be a union of soul with soul more perfect, and of a far more  delightful and far nobler kind.

HOMILIES ON S. IGNATIUS AND S. BABYLAS.

                                 EULOGY.

    On the holy martyr Saint Ignatius, the god-bearer,(1) archbishop of Antioch the great, who was carried off to  Rome, and there suffered martyrdom, and thence was conveyed back again to Antioch.
    1. Sumptuous and splend identertainers give frequent and constant entertainments, alike to display their own  wealth, and to show goodwill to their acquaintance. So also the grace of the Spirit, affording us a proof of his own  power, and displaying much goodwill towards the friends of God, sets before us successively and constantly the  tables of the martyrs. Lately, for instance, a maiden quite young, and unmarried, the blessed martyr Pelagia,  entertained us, with  much joy. To-day again, this blessed and noble martyr Ignatius has succeeded to her feast.  The persons are different: The table is one. The wrestlings are varied: The crown is one. The contests are  manifold: The prize is the same. For in the case of the heathen contests, since the tasks are bodily, men alone are,  with reason, admitted. But here,  since the contest is wholly concerning the soul, the lists are open to each sex, for  each kind the theatre is arranged. Neither do men alone disrobe, in order that the women may not take refuge in  the weakness of their nature, and seem to have a plausible excuse, nor have women only quitted themselves like  men, lest the race of men be put to shame; but on this side and on that many are proclaimed conquerors, and are  crowned, in order that thou mayest learn by means of the exploits themselves that in Christ Jesus neither male nor  female,(2) neither sex, nor weakness of body, nor age, nor any such thing could be a hindrance to those who run in  the course of religion; if there be a noble readiness, and an eager mind, and a fear of God, fervent and kindling, be  established in our souls. On this account both maidens and women, and men, both young and old, and slaves, and  freemen, and every rank, and every age, and each sex, disrobe for those contests, and in no respect suffer harm,  since they have brought a noble purpose to these wrestlings. The season then already calls us to discourse of the  mighty works of this saint. But our   reckoning is disturbed and confused, not knowing what to say first, what  second, what third,  so great a multitude of things calling for   eulogy surrounds us, on every side; and we  experience the same thing as if any one went into a meadow, and seeing many a rosebush and many a violet, and  an abundance of lilies, and other spring flowers manifold and varied, should be in doubt what he should look at  first, what second, since each of those he saw invites him to bestow his glances on itself. For we too, coming to this  spiritual meadow of the mighty works of Ignatius, and beholding not the flowers of spring, but the manifold and  varied fruit of the spirit in the soul of this man, are confused and in perplexity, not knowing to which we are first  to give our consideration, as each of the things we see draws us away from its neighbours, and entices the eye of  the soul to the sight of its own beauty. For see, he presided over the Church   among us nobly, and with such  carefulness as Christ desires. For that which Christ declared

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to be the highest standard and rule of the Episcopal office, did this man display by his deeds. For having heard  Christ saying, the good shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep,(1) with all courage he did lay it down for the  sheep.
    He held true converse with the apostles and drank of spiritual fountains. What kind of person then is it likely  that he was who had been reared, and who had everywhere held converse with them, and had shared with them  truths both lawful and unlawful to utter, and who seemed to them worthy of so great a dignity? The time again  came on, which demanded courage; and a soul which despised all things present, glowed with Divine love, and  valued things unseen before the things which are seen; and he lay aside the flesh with as much ease as one would  put off a garment. What then shall we speak of first? The teaching of the apostles which he gave proof of  throughout, or his indifference to this present life, or the strictness of his virtue, with which he administered his  rule over the Church; which shall we first call to mind? The martyr or the bishop or the apostle. For the grace of the  spirit having woven a threefold crown, thus bound it on his holy head, yea rather a manifold crown. For if any one  will consider them carefully, he will find each of the crowns, blossoming with other crowns for us.
    2. And if you will, let us come first to the praise of his episcopate. Does this seem to be one crown alone? come,  then, let us unfold it in speech, and you will see both two, and three, and more produced from it. For I do not  wonder at the man alone that he seemed to be worthy of so great an office, but that he obtained this office from  those saints, and that the hands of the blessed apostles touched his sacred head. For not even is this a slight thing to  be said in his praise, nor because he won greater grace from above, nor only because they caused more abundant  energy of the Spirit to come upon him, but because they bore witness that every virtue possessed by man was in  him. Now how this is, I tell you. Paul writing to Titus once on a time--and when I say Paul, I do not speak of him  alone, but also of Peter and James and John, and the whole band of them; for as in one lyre, the strings are  different strings, but the harmony is one, so also in the band of the apostles the persons are different, but the  teaching is one, since the artificer is one, I mean the Holy Spirit, who moves their souls, and Paul showing this  said, "Whether therefore they, or I, so we preach.(2) This man, then, writing to Titus, and showing what kind of  man the bishop ought to be, says, "For the bishop must be blameless as God's steward; not self-willed, not soon  angry, no brawler, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre; but given to hospitality, a lover of good, sober-minded,  just, holy, temperate, holding to the faithful word, which is according to the teaching, that he may be able both to  exhort in the sound doctrine, and to convict the gainsayers;"(3) and to Timothy again, when writing upon this  subject, he says somewhat like this: "If a man seeketh the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work. The bishop,  therefore, must be without reproach, the husband of one wife, temperate, sober-minded, orderly, given to  hospitality, apt to teach, no brawler, no striker, but gentle, not contentious, no lover of money. Dost thou see what  strictness of virtue he demands from the bishop? For as some most excellent  painter from life, having mixed many  colors, if he be about to furnish an original likeness of the royal form, works with all accuracy, so that all who are  copying it, and painting from it, may have a likeness accurately drawn, so accordingly the blessed Paul, as though  painting some royal likeness, and furnishing an original sketch of it, having mixed the different colors of virtue, has  painted in the features of the office of bishop complete, in order that each of those who mount to that dignity,  looking thereupon, may administer their own affairs with just such strictness.
    Boldly, therefore, would I say that Ignatius took an accurate impression of the whole of this, in his own soul;  and was blameless and without reproach, and neither self-willed, nor soon angry, nor given to wine, nor a striker,  but gentle, not contentious, no lover of money, just, holy, temperate, holding to the faithful word which is  according to the teaching, sober, sober-minded, orderly, and all the rest which Paul demanded. "And what is the  proof of this?" says one. They who said these things ordained him, and they who suggest to others with so great  strictness to make proof of those who are about to mount to the throne of this office, would not themselves have  done this negligently. But had they not seen all this virtue planted in the soul of this martyr would not have  entrusted him with this office. For they knew accurately how great danger besets those who bring about such  ordinations, carelessly and hap-hazard. And Paul again, when showing this very thing to the same Timothy wrote  and says, "Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men's sins."(4) What dost thou say? Has  an-

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other sinned, and do I share his blame and his punishment? Yes, says he, the man who authorizes evil; and just as  in the case of any one entrusting into the hands of a raging and insane person a sharply pointed sword, with which  the madman commits murder, that man who gave the sword incurs the blame; so any one who gives the authority  which arises from this office to a man living in evil, draws down on his own head all the fire of that man's sins and  audacity. For he who provides the root, this man is the cause of all that springs from it on every side. Dost thou see  how in the meanwhile a double crown of the episcopate has appeared, and how the dignity of those who ordained  him has made the office more illustrious, bearing witness to every exhibition of virtue in him?
    3. Do you wish that I should also reveal to you another crown springing from this very matter? Let us consider  the time at which he obtained this dignity. For it is not the same thing to administer the Church now as then, just  as it is not the same thing to travel along a road well trodden, and prepared, after many wayfarers; and along one  about to be cut for the first time, and containing ruts, and stones, and full of wild beasts, and which has never yet,  received any traveller. For now, by the grace of God, there is no danger for bishops, but deep peace on all sides,  and we all enjoy a calm, since the Word of piety has been extended to the ends of the world, and our rulers keep  the faith with strictness. But then there was nothing of this, but wherever any one might look, precipices and  pitfalls, and wars, and fightings, and dangers; both rulers, and kings, and people and cities and nations, and men at  home and abroad, laid snares for the faithful. And this was not the only serious thing, but also the fact that many  of the believers themselves, inasmuch as they tasted for the first time strange doctrines, stood in need of great  indulgence, and were still in a somewhat feeble condition and were often upset. And this was a thing which used to  grieve the teachers, no less than the fightings without, nay rather much more. For the fightings without, and the  plottings, afforded much pleasure to them on account of the hope of the rewards awaiting them. On this account  the apostles returned from the presence of the Sanhedrin rejoicing because they had been beaten;(1)  and Paul cries  out, saying: "I rejoice in my sufferings,"(2) and he glories in his afflictions everywhere. But the wounds of those at  home, and the fails of the brethren, do not suffer them to breathe again, but always, like some most heavy yoke,  continually oppress and afflict the neck of their soul. Hear at least how Paul, thus rejoicing in sufferings, is bitterly  pained about these. "For who, saith he, is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not?"(3) and  again, "I fear lest when I come I shall find you not such as I would, and I be found of you such as ye would not,"(4)  and a little afterwards, "Lest when I come again to you, God humble me, and I shall mourn many of those who  have sinned before, and have not repented, of their uncleanness, and wantonness, and fornication which they have  committed."(5) And throughout thou seest that he is in tears and lamentations on account of members of the  household, and evermore fearing and trembling for the believers. Just as then we admire the pilot, not when he is  able to bring those who are on board safe to shore when the sea is calm, and the ship is borne along by favourable  winds, but when the deep is raging and the waves contending, and the passengers themselves within in revolt, and  a great storm within and without besets those who are on board, and he is able to steer the ship with all security; so  we ought to wonder at, and admire those who then had the Church committed to their hands, much more than  those who now have the management of it; when there was a great war without and within, when the plant of the  faith was more tender, and needed much care, when, as a newly-born babe, the multitude in the church required  much forethought, and the greatest wisdom in any soul destined to nurse it; and in order that ye may more clearly  learn, how great crowns they were worthy of, who then had the Church entrusted to them, and how great work  and danger there was in undertaking the matter on the threshold and at the beginning, and in being the first to  enter upon it, I bring forward for you the testimony of Christ, who  pronounces a verdict on these things, and  confirms the opinion which has been expressed by me. For when he saw many coming to him, and was wishing to  show the apostles that the prophets toiled more than they, he says: "Others have laboured, and ye have entered  into their labour."(6) And yet the apostles toiled much more than the prophets. But since they first sowed the word  of piety, and won over the untaught souls of men to the truth, the greater part of the work is credited to them. For  it is by no means the same thing for one to come and teach after many teachers, and himself to be the first to sow  seeds. For that which has been already practised, and has become customary with many, would be easily

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accepted; but that which is now for the first time heard, agitates the mind of the hearers, and gives the teacher a  great deal to do. This at least it was which disturbed the audience at Athens, and on this account they turned away  from Paul, reproaching him with, "Thou bringest certain strange things to our ears."(1) For if the oversight of the  Church now furnishes much weariness and work to those who govern it, consider how double and treble and  manifold was the work then, when there were dangers and fighting and snares, and fear continually. It is not  possible to set forth in words the difficulty which those saints then encountered, but  he alone will know it who  comes to it by experience.
    4. And I will speak of a fourth crown, arising for us out of this episcopate. What then is this? The fact that he  was entrusted with our own native city. For it is a laborious thing indeed to have the oversight of a hundred men,  and of fifty alone. But to have on one's hands so  great a city, and a population extending to two hundred  thousand, of how great virtue and wisdom dost thou think there is a proof? For as in the care of armies, the wiser  of the generals have on their hands the more leading and more numerous regiments, so, accordingly, in the care of  cities. The more able of the rulers are entrusted with the larger and more populous. And at any rate this city was of  much account to God, as indeed He manifested by the very deeds which He did. At all events the master of the  whole world, Peter, to whose hands He committed the keys of heaven, whom He commanded to do and to bear  all, He bade tarry here for a long period. Thus in His sight our city was equivalent to the whole world. But since I  have mentioned Peter, I have perceived a fifth crown woven from him, and this is that this man succeeded to the  office after him. For just as any one taking a great stone from a foundation hastens by all means to introduce an  equivalent to it, lest he should shake the whole building, and make it more unsound, so, accordingly, when Peter  was about to depart from here, the grace of the Spirit introduced another teacher equivalent to Peter, so that the  building already completed should not be made more unsound by the insignificance of the successor. We have  reckoned up then five crowns, from the importance of the office, from the dignity of those who ordained to it,  from the difficulty of the time, from the size of the city, from the virtue of him who transmitted the episcopate to  him. Having woven all these, it was lawful to speak of a sixth, and seventh, and more than these; but in order that  we may not, by spending the whole time on the consideration of the episcopate, miss the details about the martyr,  come from this point, let us pass to that conflict. At one time a grievous warfare was rekindled against the Church,  and as though a most grievous tyranny over-spread the earth, all were carried off from the midst of the  market-place. Not indeed charged with anything monstrous, but because being freed from error, they hastened to  piety; because they abstained from the service of demons, because they recognized the true God, and worshipped  his only begotten Son, and for things for which they ought to have been crowned, and admired and honoured, for  these they were punished and encountered countless tortures, all who embraced the faith, and much more they  who had the oversight of the churches. For the devil, being crafty, and apt to contrive plots of this kind, expected  that if he took away the shepherds, he would easily be able to scatter the flocks. But He who takes the wise in their  craftiness, wishing to show him that men do not govern His church, but that it is He himself who everywhere tends  those who believe on Him, agreed that this should be, that he might see, when they were taken away, that the cause  of piety was not defeated, nor the word of preaching quenched, but rather increased; that by these very works he  might learn both himself, and all those who minister to him, that our affairs are not of men, but that the subject of  our teaching has its root on high, from the heavens; and that it is God who everywhere leads the Church, and that  it is not possible for him who fights against God, ever to win the day. But the Devil did not only work this evil, but  another also not less than this. For not only in the cities over which they presided, did he suffer the Bishops to be  slaughtered; but he took them into foreign territory and slew them; and he did this, in anxiety at once to take them  when destitute of friends, and hoping to render them weaker with the toil of their journey, which accordingly he  did with this saint. For he called him away from our city to Rome, making the course twice as long, expecting to  depress his mind both by the length of the way and the number of the days, and not knowing that having Jesus  with him, as a fellow traveller, and fellow exile on so long a journey, he rather became the stronger, and afforded  more proof of the power that was with him, and to a greater degree knit the Churches together. For the cities  which were on the road running together from all sides, encouraged the athlete, and sped him on his way with  many supplies, sharing in his conflict

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by their prayers, and intercessions. And they derived no little comfort when they saw the martyr hastening to death  with so much readiness, as is consistent in one called to the realms which are in the heaven, and by means of the  works themselves, by the readiness and by the joyousness of that noble man, that it was not death to which he was  hastening, but a kind of long journey and migration from this world, and ascension to heaven; and he departed  teaching these things in every city, both by his words, and by his deeds, and as happened in the case of the Jews,  when they bound Paul, and sent him to Rome, and thought that they were sending him to death, they were sending  a teacher to the Jews who dwelt there. This indeed accordingly happened in the case of Ignatius in larger measure.  For not to those alone who dwell in Rome, but to all the cities lying in the intervening space, he went forth as a  wonderful teacher, persuading them to despise the present life, and to think naught of the things which are seen,  and to love those which are to come, to look towards heaven, and to pay no regard to any of the terrors of this  present life. For on this and on more than this, by means of his works, he went on his way instructing them, as a  sun rising from the east, and hastening to the west. But rather more brilliant than this, for this is wont to run on  high, bringing material light, but Ignatius shone below, imparting to men's souls the intellectual light of doctrine.  And that light on departing into the regions of the west, is hidden and straightway causes the night to come on. But  this on departing to the regions of the west, shone there more brilliantly, conferring the greatest benefits to all  along the road. And when he arrived at the city, even that he instructed in Christian wisdom. For on this account  God permitted him there to end his life, so that this man's death might be instructive to all who dwell in Rome.  For we by the grace of God need henceforward no evidence, being rooted in the faith. But they who dwelt in  Rome, inasmuch as these was great impiety there, required more help. On this account both Peter and Paul, and  this man after them, were all slain there, partly, indeed, in order that they might purify with their own blood, the  city which had been defiled with blood of idols, and partly in order that they might by their works afford a proof of  the resurrection of the crucified Christ, persuading those who dwell in Rome, that they would not with so much  pleasure disdain this present life, did they not firmly persuade themselves that they were about to ascend to the  crucified Jesus, and to see him in the heavens. For in reality it is the greatest proof of the resurrection that the slain  Christ should show forth so great power after death, as to persuade living men to despise both country and home  and friends, and acquaintance and life itself, for the sake of confessing him, and to choose in place of present  pleasures, both stripes and dangers and death. For these are not the achievements of any dead man, nor of one  remaining in the tomb but of one risen and living, Since how couldest thou account, when he was alive, for all the  Apostles who companied with him becoming weaker through fear to betray their teachers and to flee and depart;  but when he died, for not only Peter and Paul, but even Ignatius, who had not even seen him, nor enjoyed his  companionship, showing such earnestness as to lay down life itself for his sake?
    5. In order then that all who dwell in Rome might learn that these things are a reality, God allowed that there  the saint should be perfected,(1) and that this was the reason I will guarantee from the very manner of his death.  For not outside the walls, in a dungeon, nor even in a court of justice, nor in some corner, did he receive the  sentence which condemned him, but in the midst of the theatre, while the whole city was seated above him, he  underwent this form of martyrdom, wild beasts being let loose upon him, in order that he might plant his trophy  against the Devil, beneath the eyes of all, and make all spectators emulous of his own conflicts. Not dying thus  nobly only, but dying even with pleasure. For not as though about to be severed from life, but as called to a better  and more spiritual life, so he beheld the wild beasts gladly. Whence is this manifest? From the words which he  uttered when about to die, for when he heard that this manner of punishment awaited him, "may I have joy," said  he, "of these wild beasts."(2) For such are the loving. For they receive with pleasure whatever they may suffer for  the sake of those who are beloved, and they seem to have their desire satisfied when what happens to them is more  than usually grievous. Which happened, therefore, in this man's case. For not by his death alone, but also by his  readiness he studied to emulate the apostles, and hearing that they, after they had been scourged retired with joy,  himself too wished to imitate his teachers, not only by his death, but by his joy. On this account he said, "may I  have joy of thy wild beasts," and much milder than the tongue of the tyrant did he consider the mouths of these;  and very reasonably. For while that invited

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him to Gehenna, their mouths escorted him to a kingdom. When, therefore, he made an end of life there, yea  rather, when he ascended to heaven, he departed henceforward crowned. For this also happened through the  dispensation of God, that he restored him again to us, and distributed the martyr to the cities. For that city received  his blood as it dropped, but ye were honoured with his remains, ye enjoyed his episcopate, they enjoyed his  martyrdom. They saw him in conflict, and victorious, and crowned, but ye have him continually. For a little time  God removed him from you, and with greater glory granted him again to you. And as those who borrow money,  return with interest what they receive, so also God, using this valued treasure of yours, for a little while, and having  shown it to that city, with greater brilliancy gave it back to you. Ye sent forth a Bishop, and received a martyr; ye  sent him forth with prayers, and ye received him with crowns; and not only ye, but all the cities which intervene.  For how do ye think that they behaved when they saw his remains being brought back? What pleasure was  produced! how they rejoiced! with what applause on all sides they beset the crowned one! For as with a noble  athlete, who has wrestled down all his antagonists, and who comes forth with radiant glory from the arena, the  spectators receive him, and do not suffer him to tread the earth, bringing him home on their shoulders, and  besetting him with countless praises: so also the cities in order receiving this saint then from Rome, and bearing  him upon their shoulders as far as this city, escorted the crowned one with praises, celebrating the champion, in  song; laughing the Devil to scorn, because his artifice was turned against him, and what he thought to do against  the martyr, this turned out for his behoof. Then, indeed, he profited, and encouraged all the cities; and from that  time to this day he enriches this city, and as some perpetual treasure, drawn upon every day, yet not failing, makes  all who partake of it more prosperous, so also this blessed Ignatius filleth those who come to him with blessings,  with boldness, nobleness of spirit, and much courage, and so sendeth them home.
    Not only to-day, therefore, but every day let us go forth to him, plucking spiritual fruits from him. For it is, it is  possible for him who comes hither with faith to gather the fruit of many good things. For not the bodies only, but  the very sepulchres of the saints have been filled with spiritual grace. For if in the case of Elisha this happened, and  a corpse when it touched the sepulchre, burst the bands of death and returned to life again,(1) much rather now,  when grace is more abundant, when the energy of the spirit is greater, is it possible that one touching a sepulchre,  with faith, should win great power; thence on this account God allowed us the remains of the saints, wishing to  lead by them us to the same emulation, and to afford us a kind of haven, and a secure consolation for the evils  which are ever overtaking us. Wherefore I beseech you all, if any is in despondency, if in disease, if under insult, if  in any other circumstance of this life, if in the depth of sins, let him come hither with faith, and he will lay aside all  those things, and will return with much joy, having procured a lighter conscience from the sight alone. But more, it  is not only necessary that those who are in affliction should come hither, but if any one be in cheerfulness, in glory,  in power, in much assurance towards God, let not this man despise the benefit. For coming hither and beholding  this saint, he will keep these noble possessions unmoved, persuading his own soul to be moderate by the  recollection of this man's mighty deeds, and not suffering his conscience by the mighty deeds to be lifted up to any  self conceit. And it is no slight thing for those in prosperity not to be puffed up at their good fortune, but to know  how to bear their prosperity with moderation, so that the treasure is serviceable to all, the resting place is suitable,  for the fallen, in order that they may escape from their temptations, for the fortunate, that their success may  remain secure, for those in weakness indeed, that they may return to health, and for the healthy, that they may not  fall into weakness. Considering all which things, let us prefer this way of spending our time, to all delight, all  pleasure, in order that rejoicing at once, and profiling, we may be able to become partakers with these saints, both  of their dwelling and of their home, through the prayers of the saints themselves, through the grace and  lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father with the Holy Spirit, now and always  forever and ever amen.

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                     ON THE HOLY MARTYR, S. BABYLAS.

    1. I was anxious to-day to pay the debt which I promised you when I was lately here. But what am I to do? In the  meanwhile, the blessed Babylas has appeared, and has called me to himself, uttering no voice, but attracting our  attention by the brightness of his countenance. Be ye not, therefore, displeased at the delay in my payment; at all  events, the longer the time is, the more the interest will increase. For we will deposit this money with interest.(1)  Since thus did the master command who entrusted it to us. Being confident, therefore, about what is lent, that  both the principal and the profit await you, let us not pass by the gain which falls in our way to-day, but revel in the  noble actions of the blessed Babylas.
    How, indeed, he presided over the Church which is among us, and saved that sacred ship, in storm, and in wave,  and billow; and what a bold front he showed to the emperor, and how he lay down his life for the sheep and  underwent that blessed slaughter; these things and such as these, we will leave to the eider among our teachers, and  to our common father, to speak of. For the more remote matters, the aged can relate to you but as many things as  happened lately, and within our lifetime, these, I a young man will relate to you, I mean those after death, those  after the burial of the martyr, those which happened while he remained in the suburbs of the city. And I know  indeed that the Greeks will laugh at my promise, if I promise to speak of the noble deeds after death and burial of  one who was buried, and had crumbled to dust. We shall not assuredly on this account keep silence, but on this  very account shall especially speak, in order that by showing this marvel truly, we may turn their laughter upon  their own head. For of an ordinary man there would be no noble deeds after death. But of a martyr, many and  great deeds, not in order that he might become more illustrious (for he has no need of glory from the multitude),  but that thou, the unbeliever mayest learn that the death of the martyrs is not death, but the beginning of a better  life, and the prelude of a more spiritual conversation, and a change from the worse to the better. Do not then look  at the fact, that the mere body of the martyr lies destitute of energy of soul; but observe this, that a greater power  takes its place by the side of it, different from the soul itself--I mean the grace of the Holy Spirit, which pleads to all  on behalf of the resurrection, by means of the wonders which it works. For if God has granted greater power to  bodies dead and crumbled to dust, than to all living, much more will he grant to them a better life than the former,  and a longer, at the time of the bestowal of his crowns; what then are this saint's noble deeds? But be not  disturbed, if we take our discourse a little further back. For they who wish to display their portraits to advantage,  do not uncover them until they have placed the spectators a little way off from the picture, making the view clearer  by the distance. Do you then also have patience with me while I direct my discourse into the past.
    For when Julian who surpassed all in impiety, ascended the imperial throne, and grasped the despotic sceptre,  straightway he lifted up his hands against the God who created him, and ignored his benefactor, and looking from  the earth beneath to the heavens, howled after the manner of mad dogs, who alike bay at those who do not feed  them and those who do feed them. But he rather was mad with a more savage madness than theirs. For they  indeed turn from, and hate their friends and strangers alike. But this man used to fawn upon demons, strangers to  his salvation, and used to worship them with every mode of worship. But his benefactor, and Saviour, and him who  spared not the only Begotten, for his sake, he turned from and used to hate, and made havoc of the cross, the very  thing which uplifted the whole world when it was lying prostrate, and drave away the darkness on all sides, and  brought in light more brilliant than the sunbeams; nor yet even then did he desist from his frenzy, but promised  that he would tear the nation of the Galilaeans, out of the midst of the world; for thus he was wont to call us; and  yet if he thought the names of the Christians an abomination, and Christianity itself to be full of much shame, for  what reason did he not desire to put us to shame by that means, but with a strange name? Yea because he knew  clearly, that to be called by what belongs to Christ, is a great ornament not only to men, but to angels, and to the  powers above. On this account he set everything in motion, so as to strip us of this ornament, and put a stop to the  preaching of it. But this was impossible, O wretched and miserable man! as it was impossible to destroy the heaven  and to quench the sun, and to shake and cast down the foundations of the earth, and those things

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Christ foretold, thus saying: "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away."(1)
    Well, thou dost not submit to Christ's words; accept therefore the utterance which thus his deeds give. For I  indeed having been privileged to know what the declaration of God is, how strong, how invincible a thing, have  believed that is more trustworthy than the order of nature, and than experience in all matters. But do thou still  creeping on the ground, and agitated with the investigations of human reasoning, receive the witness of the deeds.  I gainsay nothing. I strive not.
    2. What then do the deeds say? Christ said that it was easier for heaven and earth to be destroyed, than for any  of his words to fail.(2) The emperor contradicted these words, and threatened to destroy his decrees. Where then is  the emperor who threatened these things? He is perished and is corrupted, and is now in Hades, awaiting the  inevitable punishment. But where is Christ who uttered these decrees? In Heaven, on the right hand of the Father,  occupying the highest throne of glory; where are the blasphemous words of the Emperor, and his unchastened  tongue? They are become ashes, and dust and the food of worms. Where is the sentence of Christ? It shines forth  by the very truth of the deed, receiving its lustre from the issue of the events, as from a golden column. And yet the  emperor left nothing undone, when about to raise war against us, but used to call prophets together, and summon  sorcerers, and everything was full of demons and evil spirits.
    What then was the return for this worship? The overturning of cities, the bitterest famine of all famines. For ye  know doubtless, and remember, how empty indeed the market place was of wares, and the workshops full of  confusion, when everyone strove to snatch up what came first and to depart. And why do I speak of famine, when  the very fountains of waters were failing, fountains which by the abundance of their stream, used to eclipse the  rivers. But since I have mentioned the fountains, come, forthwith, let us go up to Daphne, and conduct our  discourse to the noble deeds of the martyr. Although you desire me still to parade the indecencies of the Greeks,  although I too desire this, let us abstain; for wherever the commemoration of a martyr is, there certainly also is the  shame of the Greeks. This emperor then, going up to Daphne used to weary Apollo, praying, supplicating,  entreating, so that the events of the future might be foretold to him. What then did the prophet, the great God of  the Greeks? "The dead prevent me from uttering," saith he, "but break open the graves, dig up the bones, move  the dead." What could be more impious than these commands? The Demon of grave-robbing, introduces strange  laws and devises new methods of expelling strangers. Who ever heard of the dead being driven forth? who ever saw  lifeless bodies ordered to be moved as he commanded, overturning from their foundations the common laws of  nature. For the laws of nature are common to all men, that he who departs this life should be hidden in the earth,  and delivered over for burial, and be covered up in the bosom of the earth the mother of all; and these laws,  neither Greek, barbarian, Scythian, nor if there be any more savage than they, ever changed, but all reverence  them, and keep them, and thus they are sacred and venerated by all. But the Demon raises his mask, and with bare  head, resists the common laws of nature. For the dead, he says, are a pollution. The dead are not a pollution, a  most wicked demon, but a wicked intention is an abomination. But if one must say something startling, the bodies  of the living full of evil, are more polluting than those of the dead. For the one minister to the behests of the mind,  but the other lie unmoved. Now that which is unmoved, and destitute of all perception would be free from all  accusation. Not that I even would say that the bodies of the living are by nature polluting; but that everywhere a  wicked and perverted intention is open to accusations from all.
    The dead body then is not a pollution O Apollo, but to persecute a maiden who wishes to be modest, and to  outrage the dignity of a virgin, and to lament at the failure of the shameless deed, this is worthy of accusation, and  punishment. There were at all events, many wonderful and great prophets among ourselves, who spake also many  things concerning the future, and they in no case used to bid those who asked them to dig up the bones of the  departed. Yea Ezekiel standing near the bones themselves was not only not hindered by them, but added flesh, and  nerves and skin to them, and brought them back to life again.(3) But the great Moses did not stand near the bones  of the dead, but bearing off the whole dead body of Joseph, thus foretold things to come.(4) And very reasonably,  for their words were the grace of the Holy Spirit. But the words of these, a deceit, and a lie which is no wise able to  be concealed. For that these things were an excuse, and pretence and that he feared the blessed Babylas, is manifest  from what the emperor did. For leaving all the other dead, he only moved  that martyr. And

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yet if he did these things, in disgust at him, and not in fear, it were necessary that he should order the coffin to be  broken, thrown into the sea, carried to the desert, be made to disappear by some other method of destruction; for  this is the part of one who is disgusted. Thus God did when he spake to the Hebrews about the abominations of  the Gentiles. He bade their statues to be broken, not to bring their abominations from the suburbs to the city.
    3. The martyr then was moved, but the demon not even then enjoyed freedom from fear, but straightway  learned that it is possible to move the bones of a martyr, but not to escape his hands. For as soon as the coffin was  drawn into the city, a thunderbolt came from above upon the head of his image, and burnt it all up. And yet, if not  before, then at least there was likelihood that the impious emperor would be angry, and that he would send forth  his anger against the testimony of the martyr. But not even then did he dare, so great fear possessed him. But  although he saw that the burning was intolerable, and knew the cause accurately; he kept quiet. And this is not only  wonderful that he did not destroy the testimony, but that he not even dared to put the roof on to the temple again.  For he knew, he knew, that the stroke was divinely sent, and he feared lest by forming any further plan, he should  call down that fire upon his own head. On this account he endured to see the shrine of Apollo brought to so great  desolation; For there was no other cause, on account of which he did not rectify that which had happened, but fear  alone. For which reason he unwillingly kept quiet, and knowing this left as much reproach to the demon, as  distinction to the martyr. For the walls are now standing, instead of trophies, uttering a voice clearer than a  trumpet. To those in Daphne, to those in the city, to those who arrive from far off, to those who are with us, to  those men which shall be hereafter, they declare everything by their appearance, the wrestling, the struggle, the  victory of the martyr. For it is likely that he who dwells far off from the suburb, when he sees the chapel of the  saint deprived of a shrine, and the temple of Apollo deprived of its roof would ask the reason of each of these  things; and then after learning the whole history would depart hence. Such are the noble deeds of the martyr after  death, wherefore I count your city blessed, that ye have shown much zeal about this holy man. For then, when he  returned from Daphne, all our city poured forth into the road, and the market places were empty of men, and the  houses were empty of women, and the bedchambers were destitute of maidens. Thus also every age and each sex  passed forth from the city, as if to receive a father long absent who was returning from sojourn far away. And you  indeed gave him back to the band of fellow enthusiasts. But the grace of God did not suffer him to remain there for  good, but again removed him beyond the river,(1) so that many parts of the country were filled with the sweet  savor of the martyr. Neither even when he came hither was he destined to be alone, but he quickly received, a  neighbor, and a fellow-lodger, and one of similar life.(2) For he shared with him the same dignity, and for the sake  of religion shewed forth equal boldness. Wherefore he obtained the same abode as he, this wonderful man being   no vain imitator, as it seems, of the martyr. For for so long a time he laboured there, sending letters continually to  the emperor, wearying the authorities, and bringing he ministry of the body to bear upon the martyr. For ye know,  doubtless, and remember that when the midday summer sun possessed the heaven, he together with his  acquaintances, used to walk thither everyday, not as spectator only, but also, as intending to be a sharer in what  was going on. For he often handled stone, and dragged a rope, and listened, in advance of the workmen  themselves, to one who wanted to erect any building, For he knew, he knew what rewards lie in store for him for  these things. And on this account he continued doing service to the martyrs, not only by splendid buildings nor  even by continual feasts, but by a better method than these. And what is this? He imitates their life, emulates their  courage, throughout according to his ability he keeps the image of the martyrs alive, in himself. For see, they gave  their bodies to the slaughter, he has mortified the members of his flesh which are upon the earth. They stopped the  flame of fire, he quenched the flame of lust. They fought against the teeth of beasts, but this man bore off the most  dangerous of our passions, anger. For all these things let us give thanks to God, because he hath thus granted us  noble martyrs, and pastors worthy of martyrs, for the perfecting of the saints, for the edifying of the body of  Christ(3) with whom be glory, honor, and might to the Father, with the Holy and lifegiving Spirit, now and always,  for ever and ever. Amen.

                      CONCERNING LOWLINESS OF MIND.

                                 HOMILY.

AGAINST THOSE WHO IMPROPERLY USE THE APOSTOLIC DECLARATION WHICH SAYS,  "WHETHER IN PRETENCE, OR IN SINCERITY, CHRIST IS PREACHED:" (Phil. i. 18), AND ABOUT  HUMBLENESS OF MIND.

                              INTRODUCTION.

There is an allusion at the beginning of this Homily to some remarks recently made on the parable of the Pharisee  and the Publican. These occur in Chrysostom's fifth Homily against the Anomoeans, one of a set of Homilies  which, from internal evidence, may be assigned to the close of the year 386, or beginning of 387. The following  homily therefore was delivered at Antioch, probably just before Christmas 386. There were some persons who  explained the words of St. Paul cited in the title as signifying that provided Christ was preached it mattered not  whether the actual doctrines taught were true or heretical. The main object of the homily is to vindicate the  language of the Apostle from this erroneous and mischievous interpretation.
1. When lately we made mention of the Pharisee and the publican, and hypothetically  yoked two chariots out of  virtue and vice; we pointed out each truth, how great is the gain of humbleness of mind, and how great the damage  of pride. For this, even when conjoined with righteousness and fastings and tithes, fell behind; while that, even  when yoked with sin, outstripped the Pharisee's pair, even although the charioteer it had was a poor one. For what  was worse than the publican? But all the same since he made his soul contrite, and called himself a sinner; which  indeed he was; he surpassed the Pharisee, who had both fastings to tell of and tithes; and was removed from any  vice. On account of what, and through what? Because even if he was removed from greed of gain and robbery, he  had rooted over his soul(2) the mother of all evils--vain-glory and pride. On this account Paul also exhorts and says  "Let each one prove his own work; and then he will have his ground of boasting for himself, and not for the  other." Whereas he publicly came forward(3) as an accuser of the whole world;(4) and said that he himself was  better than all living men. And yet even if he had set himself before ten only, or if five, or if two, or if one, not  even was this endurable; but as it was, he not only set himself before the whole world, but also accused all men.  On this account he fell behind in the running. And just as a ship, after having run through innumerable surges, and  having escaped many storms, then in the very mouth of the harbour having been dashed against some rock, loses  the whole treasure which is stowed away in her--so truly did this Pharisee, after having undergone the labours of  the fasting, and of all the

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rest of his virtue, since he did not master his tongue, in the very harbour underwent shipwreck of his cargo.(1) For  the going home from prayer, whence he ought to have derived gain, having rather been so greatly damaged, is  nothing else than undergoing shipwreck in harbour.
    2. Knowing therefore these things, beloved even if we should have mounted to the very pinnacle of virtue, let us  consider ourselves last of all; having learned that pride is able to cast down even from the heavens themselves him  who takes not heed, and humbleness of mind to bear up on high from, the very abyss of sins him who knows how  to be sober. For this it was that placed the publican before the Pharisee; whereas that, pride I mean and an  overweening spirit, surpassed even an incorporeal power, that of the devil; while humbleness of mind and the  acknowledgment of his own sins committed brought the robber into Paradise before the Apostles. Now if the  confidence which they who confess their own sins effect for themselves is so great, they who are conscious to  themselves of many good qualities, yet humble their own souls, how great crowns will they not win.(2) For when  sinfulness be put together with humbleness of mind it runs with such ease as to pass and out-strip righteousness  combined with pride. If therefore thou have put it to with righteousness, whither will it not reach? through how  many heavens will it not pass? By the throne of God itself surely it will stay its course;(3) in the midst of the angels,  with much confidence. On the other hand if pride, having been yoked with righteousness, by the excess and weight  of its own wickedness had strength enough to drag down its confidence; if it be put together with sinfulness, into  how deep a hell will it not be able to precipitate him who has it? These things I say, not in order that we should be  careless of righteousness, but that we should avoid pride; not that we should sin, but that we should be  sober-minded. For humbleness of mind is the foundation of the love of wisdom which pertains to us. Even if thou  shouldest have built a superstructure of things innumerable; even if almsgiving, even if prayers, even if fastings,  even if all virtue; unless this have first been laid as a foundation, all will be built upon it(4) to no purpose and in  vain; and it will fall down easily, like that building which had been placed on the sand.(5) For there is no one, no  one of our good deeds, which does not need this; there is no one which separate from this will  be able to stand.  But even if thou shouldest mention temperance, even if virginity, even if despising of money, even if anything  whatever, all are unclean and accursed and loathsome, humbleness of mind being absent. Everywhere therefore let  us take her with us,(6) in words, in deeds, in thoughts, and with this let us build these (graces).
    3. But the things belonging to humbleness of mind have been sufficiently spoken of; not for the value of the  virtue;(7) for no one will be able to celebrate it in accordance with its value; but for the intelligence of your love.  For well do I know that even from the few things that have been said you will embrace it with much zeal. But since  it is also necessary to make clear and manifest the apostolic saying which has been to-day read; seeming as it does  to many to afford a pretext for indolence; so that some may not, providing for themselves hence a certain frigid  defence, neglect their own salvation--to this let us direct our discourse. What then is this saying? "Whether m  pretence," it says, "or in sincerity,(8) Christ is preached."(9) This many wrest absolutely ,o and just as happens,  without reading what precedes and what comes after it; but having cut it off from the sequence of the remaining  members, to the destruction of their own soul they put it forward to the more indolent. For attempting to seduce  them from the sound faith; then seeing them afraid and trembling; on the ground of its not being without danger  to do this,(11) and desiring to relieve their fears, they bring forward this apostolic declaration, saying, Paul  conceded this, by saying, "Whether m pretence or in sincerity, let Christ be proclaimed." But these things are not  (true), they are not. For in the first place he did not say "let him be proclaimed," but "he is proclaimed," and the  difference between this and that is wide. For the saying "let him be proclaimed" belongs to a lawgiver; but the  saying "he is proclaimed" to one announcing the event. For that Paul does not ordain a law that there should be  heresies, but draws away all who attended to him, hear what he says, "If any one preaches to you a gospel besides  what ye have received, let him be ana-

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thema, were it even I, were it even an angel from the heavens."(1) Now he would not have anathematized both  himself and an angel, if he had known the act to be without danger. And again--"I am jealous of you with a  jealousy of God," he says; "for I have betrothed you to one husband a chaste virgin: and fear lest at some time, as  the serpent beguiled Eve by his wiliness, so your thoughts should be corrupted from the singleness that is towards  Christ."(2) See, he both set down singleness, and granted no allowance. For if there were allowance, there was no  danger; and if there was no danger Paul would not have feared: and Christ would not also have commanded that  the tares should be burned up, if it were a thing indifferent to attend to this one or that or another; or to all  indiscriminately.(3)
    4. What ever then is what is meant? I wish to narrate to you the whole history from a point a little earlier;(4) for  it is needful to know in what circumstances Paul was when he was writing these things by letter. In what  circumstances therefore was he? In prison and chains and intolerable perils. Whence is this manifest? From the  epistle itself. For earlier than this he says, "Now I wish you to know, brethren, that the circumstances in which I  am have come rather to the furtherance s of the Gospel; so that my bonds have become manifest in Christ in the  whole Court, and to all the others; and a good many(6) of the brethren, trusting to my bonds, the more  exceedingly dare fearlessly to speak the word."(7) Now Nero had then cast him into prison. For just as some  robber having set foot in the house, while all are sleeping, when stealing every thing,(8) if he see any one having lit  a lamp, both extinguishes the light and slays him who holds the lamp, in order that he may be allowed in security to  steal  and rob the property of others; so truly also the Caesar Nero then, just as any robber and burglar while all  were sleeping a deep and unconscious slumber; robbing the property of all, breaking into marriage chambers,(9)  subverting houses, displaying every form of wickedness; when he saw Paul having lighted a lamp throughout the  world; (the word of his teaching;) and reproving his wickedness, exerted himself both to extinguish what was  preached, and to put the teachers out of the way; in order that he might be allowed with authority to do anything he  pleased; and after binding that holy man, cast him into prison. It was at that time then that the blessed Paul wrote  these things. Who would not have been astounded? who would not have marvelled? or rather who could adequately  have been astounded at and admired that noble and heaven-reaching soul; in that, while bound in Rome and  imprisoned, at so great a distance as that, he wrote a letter to the Philippians? For you know how great is the  distance between Macedonia and Rome. But neither did the length of the way, nor the amount of time (required),  nor the press of business, nor the peril and the dangers coming one upon another, nor anything else, drive out his  love for and remembrance of the disciples; but he retained them all in his mind; and not so strongly were his hands  bound with the chains as his soul was bound together and rivetted by his longing for the disciples:(10) which very  thing itself indeed also declaring, in the preface of the Epistle he said, "On account of my having you in my heart,  both in my bonds, and in the defence and confirmation of the Gospel."(11) And just as a King, having ascended  upon his throne at morning-tide and taken his seat in the royal courts, immediately receives from all quarters  innumerable letters; so truly he also, just as in royal courts, seated in the dungeon, both received and sent his  letters in far greater number; the nations from all quarters referring to his wisdom every thing about(12) what had  taken place  among themselves; and he administered more business than the reigning monarch in proportion to  his having had a larger dominion entrusted to him. For in truth God had brought and put into his hands not those  who inhabited the country of the Romans only, but also all the barbarians, both land and sea. And by way of  showing this he said to the Romans, "Now I would not that ye should be ignorant, brethren, that ofttimes I have  purposed to come to you, and have been hindered until the present; in order that I might have some fruit also  among you, as among the rest of the Gentiles too. Both to Greeks and barbarians, both to wise and those without  understanding I am a debtor."(13) Every day therefore he was in anxious thought at one moment for Corinthians,  at another for Macedonians; how Philippians, how Cappadocians, how Galatians, how Athenians, how they who  inhabited Pon-

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tus. how all together were. But all the same, having had the whole world put into his hands, he continually cared  not for entire nations only, but also for  each single man; and now indeed he despatched a letter on behalf of  Onesimus, and now on behalf of him who among the Corinthians had committed fornication. For neither used he  to regard this--that it was the individual who had sinned and needed advocacy; but that it was a human being; a  human being, the living thing most precious to God; and for whose sake the Father had not spared even the  Only-begotten.
    5. For do not tell me that this or that man is a runaway slave, or a robber or thief, or laden with countless faults,  or that he is a mendicant and abject, or of low value and worthy of no account; but consider that for his sake the  Christ died; and this sufficeth thee for a ground for all solicitude. Consider what sort of person he must be, whom  Christ valued at so high a price as not to have spared even his own blood. For neither, if a king had chosen to  sacrifice himself on any one's behalf, should we have sought out another demonstration of his being some one  great and of deep interest to the King--I fancy not--for his death would suffice to show the love of him who had  died towards him. But as it is not man, not angel, not archangel; but the Lord of the heavens himself, the  only-begotten Son of God himself having clothed himself with flesh, freely gave himself on our behalf. Shall we not  do everything, and take every trouble, so that the men who have been thus valued may enjoy every solicitude at our  hands? And what kind of defence shall we have? what allowance? This at least is the very thing by way of declaring  which Paul also said, "Do not by thy meat destroy him for whose sake Christ died."(1) For desiring to shame, and  to bring to solicitude, and to persuade to care for their neighbours, those who despise their brethren, and look  down upon them as being weak, instead of all(2) else he set down the Master's death.
    Sitting then in the prison he wrote the letter to the Philippians from that so great distance. For such as this is the  love that is according to God:(3) it is interrupted by no one of human things, since it has its roots from above in  the heavens(4) and its recompense. And what says he? "Now I desire that ye should know, brethren"(5) Seest thou  solicitude for his scholars? seest thou a teacher's carefulness? Hear too of loving affection of scholars towards their  teacher, that thou mayest know that this was what made them strong and unconquerable--the being bound  together with one another. For if "Brother helped by brother is as a strong city;"(6) far more so many bound  together by the bonds of love  would have entirely repulsed the plotting of the wicked demon. That indeed then  Paul was bound up with the disciples, requires not even any demonstration further nor argument for us, since in  truth even when in bonds he anxiously cared for them, and each day, he was also dying for them, burning with his  longing.
    6. And that the disciples too were bound up with Paul with all perfectness;(7) and that not men only but women  also, hear what he says about Phoebe. "Now I commend(8) to you Phoebe the sister, being a deaconess of the  Church which is in Cenchreae; that ye may receive her in the Lord worthily of the saints, and stand by her, in  whatever matter she may require you, since(9) she has proved a helper(10) of many; and of me myself."(11) But in  this instance he bore witness to her of her zeal so far as help went (only;)(12) but Priscilla and Aquila went as far  even as death for Paul's sake; and about them he thus writes, saying, "Aquila and Priscilla salute you, who for my  life's sake laid down their own neck;"(13) for death clearly. And about another again writing to these very persons  he says, "Because he went as far as death; having counselled ill for his life, in order that he might supply your  deficiency in your service towards me.(14) Seest thou how they loved their teacher? how they regarded his rest(15)  before their own life? On this account no one surpassed them then. Now this I say, not  that we may hear only, but  that we may also imitate; and not to the ruled only, but also to those who rule is what we say addressed; in order  that both scholars may display much solicitude about their teachers, and the teachers may have the same loving  affection as Paul about those placed under them; not those present only, but also those who are far off. For also  Paul, dwelling in the whole world just as in one house, thus

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continually took thought for the salvation of all; and having dismissed every thing of his  own; bonds and troubles  and stripes and  straits, watched over and inquired into each  day, in what state the affairs of the disciples  were;  and often for this very purpose alone  sent, now Timothy, and now Tychicus; and  about him he says, "That he  may know your circumstances, and encourage your hearts:"(1)   and about Timothy; "I have sent him, being  no  longer able to contain myself; lest in some  way the tempter have tempted you."(2) And Titus again elsewhere, and  another to another place. For since he himself, by the compulsion of his bonds being often detained in one place,  was unable to meet those who were his vitals, he met them through the disciples.
    7. And then therefore being in bonds he writes to the Philippians, saying, "Now I desire that ye should know,  brethren,"(3) calling the disciples brethren. For such a thing as this is love; it casts out all inequality, and knows not  superiority and dignity; but even if one be higher than all, he descends to the lowlier position of all; just what Paul  also used to do. But let us hear what it is that he desires they should know. "That the things which happened unto  me," he says, "have fallen out rather to the furtherance of the gospel."(4) Tell me, how and in what way? Hast thou  then been released from thy bonds? hast thou then put off thy chain? and dost thou with free permission preach in  the city? hast thou then, having gone into an assembly, drawn out many long discourses about the faith, and  departed after gaining many disciples? hast thou then raised the dead and been made an object of wonder? hast  thou then cleansed lepers, and all were astounded? hast thou driven away demons, and been exalted? No one of  these things, he says. How then did the furtherance of the gospel take place? tell me. "So that my bonds," he says,  "have become openly known in the whole Court, and to all the rest."(5) What sayest thou? this then, this was the  furtherance, this the advance, this the increase of the proclamation--that all knew that thou wast bound. Yes, he  says: Hear at least what comes next, that thou mayest learn that the bonds not only proved no hindrance, but also  a ground of greater freedom of speech. "So that several(6) of the brethren in the Lord, in reliance on my bonds,  more abundantly  dare fearlessly to speak the word."(7) What  sayest thou, O Paul? have thy bonds inspired  not  anxiety but confidence? not fear but earnest longing? The things mentioned have no consistency.(8)I too know it.  For neither did these things take place according to the consistency of human affairs, he means,(9) but what came  about was above nature, and the successes were of divine grace. On this account what used to cause anxiety to all  others, that to him afforded confidence. For also if any one, having taken the leader of an army land confined him,  have made this publicly  known, he throws the whole camp into flight; and if any one have carried a shepherd away  from the flock, the security with which he drives off the sheep is great. But not in Paul's case was it thus, but the  contrary entirely. For the leader of the army was bound, and the soldiers became more forward in spirit; and the  confidence with which they sprung upon their adversaries was greater: the shepherd was in confinement, and the  sheep were not consumed, nor even scattered.
8. Who ever saw, who ever heard of, the scholars taking greater encouragement in the dangers of their teachers?  How was it that they feared not? how was it that they were not terrified? how was it that they did not say to Paul,  "Physician, heal thyself,"(10) deliver thyself from thy manifold perils, and then thou will be able to procure for us  those countless good things? How was it they did not say these things? How! It was because they had been  schooled, from the grace of the Spirit, that these things took place not out of weakness, but out of the permission  of the Christ; in order that the truth might shine abroad more largely; through bonds and imprisonments and  tribulations and straits increasing and rising, to a greater volume. Thus is the power of Christ in weakness  perfected.(11) For indeed if his bonds had crippled Paul(12) and made him cowardly; either himself or those  belonging to him; one could not but feel difficulty; but if rather they prepared him to feel confidence and brought  him into greater renown, one must be astounded and marvel, how through a thing involving dishonour glory was  procured for the disciple--through a thing inspiring Cowardice confidence and encouragement resulted to them all.  For who was not astounded at him then, seeing him encircled with a chain? Then demons took to flight all the  more, when they saw him spending his

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time in a prison. For not so splendid does the diadem make a royal head, as the chain his hands; not owing to their  proper nature, but owing to the grace that darted brightness on them.(1) On this account it was that great  encouragement resulted to the disciples. For also they saw his body indeed bound, but his tongue not bound, his  hands indeed tightly manacled,(2) but his voice unshackled, and traversing the whole world more swiftly than the  solar ray. And this became to them an encouragement; learning as they did from the facts that no one of present  things is to be dreaded. For when the soul has been genuinely imbued by divine longing and love, it pays regard to  no one of things present; but just as those who are mad venture themselves against fire and sword and wild beasts  and sea and all else, so these too, maddened with a most noble and most spiritual frenzy, a frenzy arising from  sanity,(3) used to laugh at all things that are seen. On this account, seeing their teachers bound, they the more  exulted, the more prided themselves; by facts giving to their adversaries a demonstration that on all sides they were  impregnable and indomitable.
    9. Then therefore, when matters were in this state, some of the enemies of Paul, desiring to fan up the war to  greater vehemence, and to make the hatred of the tyrant, which was fell towards him greater, pretended that they  themselves also preached; (and they did preach the right and sound faith,) for the sake of the doctrine advancing  more rapidly: and this they did, not with the desire to disseminate the faith; but in order that Nero, having learnt  that the preaching was increasing and the doctrine advancing, might the sooner have Paul led away to execution?  There were therefore two schools; that of Paul's scholars and that of Paul's enemies; the one preaching out of  sincerity, and the others out of love of contention and the hatred they felt towards Paul. And by way of declaring  this he said, "Some indeed through envy and strife are preaching Christ," (pointing out those his enemies) "but  some also through good pleasure;"(5) saying this about his own scholars.(6) Then next about those; "Some indeed  out of contentiousness," (his enemies,) not purely, not soundly, but, "thinking that they are thereby bringing  pressure upon my bonds;(7) but the others out of love;" (this again about his own brethren ;) "knowing that I am  set(8) 'for the defence of the gospel." For what? Nevertheless, in any way; whether in pretence or in sincerity,  Christ is being announced."(9) So that vainly and to no purpose is this saying taken in reference to heresies. For  those who then were preaching were not preaching corrupt doctrine; but sound and right belief. For if they were  preaching corrupt doctrine, and were teaching other things contrary to Paul, what they desired was certain not to  succeed to them. Now what did they desire? That the faith having grown, and the disciples of Paul having become  numerous, it should rouse Nero to greater hostility. And if they were preaching different doctrines, they would not  have made the disciples of Paul numerous; and by not doing so,(10) they would not have exasperated the tyrant.  He does not therefore say this--that they were bringing in corrupt doctrines--but that the motive from which they  were preaching, this was corrupt. For it is one thing to state the pretext(11) of their preaching, and another that  their preaching itself was not sound. For the preaching does not become sound when the doctrine is laden with  deception; and the pretext does not become sound when the preaching indeed is sound, but they who preach do  not preach for the sake of God, but either with a view of enmity, or with a view to the favour of others.
    10. He therefore does not say this--that they were bringing in heresies; but that it was not from a right motive,  nor through piety(12) that they were preaching what they did preach. For it was not that they might increase the  gospel that they were doing this; but that they might wage war against him, and throw him into greater danger--on  this account he accuses them. And see how with exactitude he laid it.(13) "Thinking," he says, "that they were  putting pressure upon my bonds."(14) He did not say, putting, but "thinking they were putting upon," that is  supposing, by way of pointing out that even if they so supposed,

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still he himself was not in such a position; but that he even rejoiced on account of the advance of the preaching. He  added therefore saying, "But in this I both rejoice and will rejoice:"(1) whereas if he held their doctrines deception,  and they were bringing in heresies, Paul could not possibly rejoice. But since the doctrine was sound and of  genuine parentage, on this account he says, "I rejoice and will rejoice." For what if they(2) are destroying  themselves by doing this out of contentiousness? Still, even unwillingly, they are strengthening my cause. Seest  thou how great is Paul's power? how he is caught by no one of the devil's machinations? And not only is he not  caught; but also by these themselves he subdues him. For great indeed is both the devil's craftiness,(3) and the  wickedness of those who minister to him; for under pretence of being of the same mind, they desired to extinguish  the proclamation(4) But "he who seizes the cunning in their craftiness"(5) did not permit that this should take  place then. By way of declaring this very thing at least Paul said "But the continuing in the flesh is the more  necessary for your sake; and this I confidently know, that I shall continue and remain in company with you all."(6)  For those men indeed set their mind on casting me out of the present life, and are ready to endure anything for  this object; but God does not permit it on your account.
    11. These things therefore, all of them, remember with exactness in order that you may be able with all wisdom  to correct those who use the Scriptures without reference to circumstances(7) and at hap-hazard, and for the  destruction of their neighhours. And we shall be able both to remember what has been said, and to correct others,  if we always betake ourselves to prayers as a refuge, and beseech the God who gives the word of wisdom to grant  both intelligence in hearing, and a careful and unconquerable guardianship of this spiritual deposit in our hands.  For things which often we have not strength to perform successfully from our own exertions, these we shall have  power to accomplish easily through prayers. I mean prayers which are persevering. For always and without  intermission it is a duty to pray, both for him who is in affliction, and him who is in relief from it, and him who is  in dangers, and him who is in prosperity--for him who is in relief and much prosperity, that these may remain  unmoved and without vicissitude, and may never change; and for him who is in affliction and his many dangers,  that he may see some favourable change brought about to him, and be transported into a calm of consolation. Art  thou in a calm? Then beseech God that this calm may continue settled to thee. Hast thou seen a storm risen up  against thee? Beseech God earnestly(8) to cause the billow to pass, and to make a calm out of the storm. "Hast  thou been heard? Be heartily thankful for this; because thou hast been heard. Hast thou not been heard?  Persevere(9) in order that thou mayest be heard. For even if God at any time delay the giving, it is not in hatred  and aversion;(10) but from the desire by the deferring of the giving perpetually to retain thee with himself; just in  the way also that affectionate fathers do;(11) for they also adroitly manage the perpetual and assiduous attendance  of children who are rather indolent by the delay of the giving. There is to thee no need of mediators in audience  with God; nor of that much canvassing;(12) nor of the fawning upon others; but even if thou be destitute, even if  bereft of advocacy, alone, by thyself, having called on God for help, thou wilt in any case succeed.(13)  He is not so  wont to assent when entreated by others on our behalf, as by ourselves who are in need; even if we be laden with  ten thousand evil deeds. For if in the case of men, even if we have come into countless collisions with them, when  both at dawn and at mid-day and in the evening we show ourselves to those who are aggrieved against us, by the  unbroken continuance and the persistent meeting and interview we easily demolish their enmity--far more in the  case of God would this be effected.
    12. But thou art unWorthy. Become worthy by thy assiduity. For that it both is possible that the unworthy  should become worthy from his assiduity; and that God assents more when called on by ourselves than by others;  and

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that he often delays the giving, not from the wish that we should be utterly perplexed, nor to send us out(1) with  empty hands; but in order that he may become the author of greater good things to us--these three points I will  endeavour to make evident by the parable which has to-day been read to you. The woman of Chanaan had come to  Christ praying on behalf of a daughter possessed by a demon, and crying out with much earnestness,(2) (it says,(3)  "Have pity on me, Lord, my daughter is badly possessed by a demon." See, the woman of a strange nation, and a  barbarian, and outside of the Jewish commonwealth. For indeed what else (was she) than a dog, and unworthy of  the receiving her request? For "it is not," he says, "good to take the children's bread, and to give it to the dogs."  But, all the same, from her assiduity, she became worthy. For not only did he admit her into the nobility of  children, dog as she was; but also he sent her off with that high encomium saying, "O woman great is thy faith; be  it done to thee as thou wilt."(5) Now when the Christ says, "great is thy faith," seek thou no other demonstration  of the greatness of soul which was in the woman. Seest thou how, from her assiduity the woman, being unworthy,  became worthy? Desirest thou also to learn that we accomplish (our wish) by calling on him by ourselves more than  by others? She cried out, and the disciples having come to him say, "Let her go away, for she is crying after us:"(6)  and to them he says, "I am not sent, unless to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."(7) But when she had come to  him by herself and continued crying, and saying, "Yes, Lord, for even the dogs eat from the table of their  masters,"(8) then he granted the favour and says, "Be it done unto thee as thou wilt." Seest thou how, when they  were entreating him, he repelled; but when she who needed the gift herself cried out, he assented? For to them he  says, "I am not sent, unless to the lost sheep of the house of Israel;" but to her(9) he said, "Great is thy faith; be it  done unto thee as thou wilt." Again, at the beginning and in the prelude of her request he answered nothing; but  when both once and twice and thrice she had come to him, then he granted the boon; by the issue making us  believe that he had delayed the giving, not that be might repel her(10) but that he might display to us all the  woman's endurance. For if he had delayed in order that he might repel her, he would not have granted it even at  the end; but since he was waiting to display to all her spiritual wisdom, on this accouter he was silent.(11) For if he  had granted it immediately and at the beginning, we should not have known the woman's virtue.(12) "Let her  go"(13) it says, "because she is clamouring behind us." But what (says) the Christ? "Ye hear a voice, but I see the  mind: I know what she is going to say. I choose not to permit the treasure hidden in her mind to escape notice; but  I am waiting and keeping silence; in order that having discovered it I may lay it down in publicity, and make it  manifest to all.
    13. Having therefore learned all these things, even if we be in sins, and unworthy of receiving, let us not despair;  knowing, that by assiduity of soul we shall be able to become worthy of the request. Even if we be unaided by  advocate and destitute, let us not faint; knowing that it is a strong advocacy--the coming to God one's self by one's  self with much eagerness. Even if he delay and defer with respect to the giving, let us not be dispirited; having  learned that the putting it off and delay is a sure proof of caring and love for mankind. If we have thus persuaded  ourselves; and with a soul deeply pained and fervent, and thoroughly roused purpose; and such as that with which  the woman of Chanaan approached, we too come to him, even if we be dogs; even if we have done anything  whatever dreadful; we shall both rebut(14) our own crimes, and obtain so great liberty of speech(15) as also to be  advocates for others; in the way in which also this woman of Chanaan not only herself enjoyed liberty of speech  and ten thousand encomiums, but had power to snatch her dear daughter(16) out of her intolerable sufferings.

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For nothing--nothing is more powerful than prayer when fervent and genuine. This both disperses present  dangers, and rescues from the penalties which take place at that hour.(1) That therefore we may both complete our  passage through the present life with ease,(2) and depart thither(3) with confidence, with much zeal and eagerness  let us perform this perpetually. For thus shall we be able both to attain the good things which are laid up, and to  enjoy those excellent hopes; which God grant that we may all attain; by the grace and loving kindness and  compassion of our Lord Jesus Christ--with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, honour,  dominion, to the ages of the ages.(4) Amen.

                             ST. CHRYSOSTOM:

                      INSTRUCTIONS TO CATECHUMENS

               TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION, AND NOTES BY

                      REV. W. R. W. STEPHENS, M.A.,

        PREBENDARY OF CHICHESTER, AND RECTOR OF WOOLBEDING, SUSSEX.

                               ASSISTED BY

                       REV. T. P. BRANDRAM, M.A.,

                  RECTOR OF RUMBOLDSWHYKE, CHICHESTER.

                     INSTRUCTIONS TO CATECHUMENS.

                           FIRST INSTRUCTION.

    To those about to be illuminated;(1) and for what reason the layer is said to be of regeneration and not of  remission of sins; and that it is a dangerous thing not only to forswear oneself, but also to take an oath, even  though we swear truly.
    1. How delightful and lovable is our band of young brethren! For brethren I call you, even now before you have  been brought forth, and before your birth I welcome this relationship with you: For I know, I know dearly, to how  great an honour you are about to be led, and to how great a dignity; and those who are about to receive dignity, all  are wont to honor, even before the dignity is conferred, laying up for themselves beforehand by their attention  good will for the future. And this also I myself now do. For ye are not about to be led to an empty dignity, but to  an actual kingdom: and not simply to a kingdom, but to the kingdom of the Heavens itself. Wherefore I beseech  and entreat you that you remember me when you come into that kingdom, and as Joseph said to the chief butler  "Remember me when it shall be well with thee,"(2) this also I say now to you, do ye remember me when it is well  with you. I do not ask this in return for interpreting your dreams, as he; for I have not come to interpret dreams  for you, but to discourse of matters celestial, and to convey to you glad tidings of such good things as "eye hath not  seen, and ear hath not heard and which have entered not into the heart of man, such are the things which God hath  prepared for them that love him."(3) Now Joseph indeed said to that chief butler, "yet three days and Pharaoh will  restore thee to thy chief butlership." But I do not say, yet three days and ye shall be set to pour out the wine of a  tyrant, but yet thirty days, and not Pharaoh but the king of Heaven shall restore you to the country which is on  high, Jerusalem, which is free--to the city which is in the heavens; and he said indeed, "Thou shalt give the cup into  the hands of Pharaoh." But I say not that you shall give the cup into the hands of the king, but that the king shall  give the cup into your hand--that dread cup, full of much power, and more precious than any created thing. The  initiated know the virtue of this cup, and you yourselves shall know it a little while hence. Remember me,  therefore, when you come into that kingdom, when you receive the royal robe, when you are girt with the purple  dipped in the master's blood, when you will be

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crowned with the diadem, which has lustre leaping forth from it on all sides, more brilliant than the rays of the  sun. Such are the gifts of the Bridegroom, greater indeed than your worth, but worthy of his lovingkindness.
    Wherefore, I count you blessed already before those sacred nuptials, and I do not only count you blessed, but I  praise your prudence in that you have not come to your illumination as the most slothful among men, at your last  breath, but already, like prudent servants, prepared with much goodwill to obey your master, have brought the  neck of your soul with much meekness and readiness beneath the bands of Christ, and have received His easy  yoke, and have taken His light burden. For if the grace bestowed be the same both for you and for those who are  initiated at their last hour, yet the matter of the intention is not the same, nor yet the matter of the preparation for  the rite. For they indeed receive it on their bed, but you in the bosom of the Church, which is the common mother  of us all; they indeed with lamentation and weeping, but you rejoicing, and exceeding glad: they sighing, you giving  thanks; they indeed lethargic with much fever, you filled with much spiritual pleasure; wherefore in your case all  things are in harmony with the gift, but in theirs all are adverse to it. For there is wailing and much lamentation on  the part of the initiated, and children stand around crying, wife tearing her cheeks, and dejected friends and tearful  servants; the whole aspect Of the house resembles some wintry and gloomy day. And if thou shalt open the heart  of him who is lying there, thou wilt find it more downcast than are these. For as winds meeting one another with  many a contrary blast, break up the sea into many parts, so too the thought of the terrors preying upon him assail  the Soul of the sick man, and distract his mind with many anxieties. Whenever he sees his children, he thinks of  their fatherless condition; whenever he looks from them to his wife, he considers her widowhood; when he sees the  servants, he beholds the desolation of  the whole house; when he comes back to him  self, he calls to mind his own  present life, and being about to be torn from it, experiences a great cloud of despondency. Of such a kind is the  soul of him who is about to be initiated. Then in the midst of its tumult and confusion, the Priest enters, more  formidable than the fever itself, and more distressing than death  to the relatives of the sick man. For the entrance  of the Presbyter is thought to be a greater reason for despair than the voice of the physician despairing Of his life,  and that  which suggests eternal life seems to be a symbol of death. But I have not yet put the finishing stroke to  these ills. For in the midst of relatives raising a tumult and making preparations, the soul has often taken its flight,  leaving the body desolate; and in many cases, while it was present it was useless, for when it neither recognizes  those who are present, nor hears their voice, nor is able to answer those words by which it will make that blessed  covenant with the common master of us all, but is as a useless log, or a stone, and he who is about to be  illuminated lies there differing nothing from a corpse, what is the profit of initiation in a case of such insensibility?
    2. For he who is about to approach these holy and dread mysteries must be awake and alert, must be clean from  all cares of this life, full of much self-restraint, much readiness; he must banish from his mind every thought  foreign to the mysteries, and on all sides cleanse and prepare his home, as if about to receive the king himself. Such  is the preparation of your mind: such are your thoughts; such the purpose of your soul. Await therefore a return  worthy of this most excellent decision from God, who overpowers with His recompense those who show forth  obedience to Him. But since it is necessary for his fellow servants to contribute of their own, then we will  contribute of our own; yea rather not even are these things our own, but these too are our Master's. "For what  hast thou," saith He, "that thou didst not receive? but if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst  not received it?"(1) I wished to say this first of all, why in the world our fathers, passing by the whole year, settled  that the children of the Church should be initiated at this season; and for what reason, after the instruction from  us, removing your shoes and raiment, unclad and unshod, with but one garment on, they conduct you to hear the  words of the exorcisers. For it is not thoughtlessly and rashly that they have planned this dress and this season for  us. But both these things have a certain mystic and secret reason. And I wished to say this to you. But I see that our  discourse now constrains us to something more necessary. For it is necessary to say what baptism is, and for what  reason it enters into our life, and what good things it conveys to us.
    But, if you will, let us discourse about the name which this mystic cleansing bears: for its name is not one, but  very many and various. For this purification is called the layer of regeneration. "He saved us," he saith, "through  the laver of regeneration, and renewing of the

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Holy Ghost."(1) It is called also illumination, and this St. Paul again has called it, "For call to remembrance the  former days in which after ye were illuminated ye endured a great conflict of sufferings;"(2) and again, "For it is  impossible for those who were once illuminated, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and then fell away, to renew  them again unto repentance."(3) It is called also, baptism: "For as many of you as were baptized into Christ did put  on Christ."(4) It is called also burial: "For we were buried" saith he, "with him, through baptism, into death."(5) It  is called circumcision: "In whom ye were also circumcised, with a circumcision not made with hands, in the putting  off of the body of the sins of the flesh."(6) It is called a cross: "Our old man was crucified with him that the body of  sin might be done away."(7) It is also possible to speak of other names besides these, but in order that we should  not spend our whole time over the names of this free gift, come, return to the first name, and lotus finish our  discourse by declaring its meaning; but in the meantime, let us extend our teaching a little further. There is that  layer by means of the baths, common to all men, which is wont to wipe off bodily uncleanness; and there is the  Jewish layer, more honorable than the other, but far inferior to that of grace; and it too wipes off bodily  uncleanness, but not simply uncleanness of body, since it even reaches to the weak conscience. For there are many  matters, which by nature indeed are not unclean, but which become unclean from the weakness of the conscience.  And as in the ease of little children, masks, and other bugbears are not in themselves alarming, but seem to little  children to be alarming, by reason of the weakness of their nature, so it is in the case of those things of which I was  speaking; just as to touch dead bodies is not naturally unclean, but when this comes into contact with a weak  conscience, it makes him who touches them unclean. For that the thing in question is not unclean naturally, Moses  himself who ordained this law showed, when he bore off the entire corpse of Joseph, and yet remained clean. On  this account Paul also, discoursing to us about this uncleanness which does not come naturally but by reason of the  weakness of the conscience, speaks somewhat in this way, "Nothing is common of itself save to him who  accounteth anything to be common."(8) Dost thou not see that uncleanness does not arise from the nature of the  thing, but from the weakness of the reasoning about it? And again: "All things indeed are clean, howbeit it is evil to  that man who eateth with offense."(9) Dost thou see that it is not to eat, but to eat with offense, that is the cause of  uncleanness?
    3. Such is the defilement from which the layer of the Jews cleansed. But the layer of grace, not such, but the real  uncleanness which has introduced defilement into the soul as well as into the body. For it does not make those  who have touched dead bodies dean, but those who have set their hand to dead works: and if any man be  effeminate, or a fornicator, or an idolator, or a doer of whatever ill you please, or if he be full of all the wickedness  there is among men: should he fall into this pool of waters, he comes up again from the divine fountain purer than  the sun's rays. And in order that thou mayest not think that what is said is mere vain boasting, hear Paul speaking  of the power of the layer, "Be not deceived: neither idolators, nor fornicators, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor  abusers of themselves with men, nor covetous, not drunkards, not revilers, not extortioners shah inherit the  kingdom of God."(10) And what has this to do with what has been spoken? says one, "for prove the question  whether the power of the laver thoroughly cleanses all these things." Hear therefore what follows: "And such were  some of you, but ye were washed, but ye were sanctified, but ye we