The Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Principal Saints Part 29

4. L. 3, de Sacerd. c. 14, p. 390.

5. L. 3, de Sacerd. c. 14.

6. Hom. 72 (ol. 73) and 69 (ol. 69,) in Matt. Hom. 14, in 1 Tim. t. 11, pp. 628, 630, {}3, contra vitup. vita Mon. c. 14.

7. Lib. de Compunct. p. {1}32.

8. Lib. 1, de Compunct. &c.

9. Flavian I. was a native of Antioch, of honorable extraction, and possessed of a plentiful estate, which he employed in the service of the church and relief of the poor. He was remarkably grave and serious, and began early to subdue his flesh by austerities and abstinence, in which he remitted nothing even in his old age. Thus was his heart prepared to receive and cherish the seeds of divine grace, the daily increase of which rendered him so conspicuous in the world, and of such advantage to the church. The Arians being at that time masters of the church of Antioch, Flavian and his a.s.sociate Diodorus, afterwards bishop of Tarsus, equally distinguished by their birth, fortune, learning, and virtue, were the great supports of the flock St. Eustathius had been forced to abandon. In 348, they undertook the defence of the Catholic faith against Leontius, the Arian bishop, who made use of all his craft and authority to establish Arianism to that city; one of whose chief expedients was to promote none to holy orders but Arians. The scarcity of Catholic pastors, on this account called for all their zeal and charity in behalf of the abandoned flock. The Arians being in possession of the churches to the city, these two zealous laymen a.s.sembled them without the walls, at the tombs of the martyrs, for the exercise of religious duties. They introduced among them the manner of singing psalms alternately, and of concluding each psalm with _Glory be to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; as it was,_ &c., which pious custom was soon after spread over all the eastern and western churches. Theodoret (l. 2, c. 19) says, that Flavian and Diodorus were the first who directed the psalms to be sung in this manner by two choirs: though Socrates (l. 6, c. 8) attributes its inst.i.tution to St. Ignatius the martyr: who having, as he there relates, heard angels in a vision singing the divine praises alternately, inst.i.tuted that manner of singing in the church of Antioch; but this might have been disused. Pliny's famous letter to Trajan shows, that singing was then in use among the Christians In Bithynia; and it appears from Philo, that the Therapeuts did the same before that time. Leontius stood so much in awe of Flavian and Diodorus while they were only laymen, that in compliance with their demands he deposed Aetius that most impious and barefaced blasphemer of all the Arians, from the rank of deacon.

St. Meletius, on his being promoted to the see of Antioch, about the year 361, raised these both to the priesthood, and they took care of that church, as his delegates, during his banishment by Constantius.

Thus they continued together their zealous labors till Diodorus was made bishop of Tarsus. In 381, St. Meletius took Flavian with him to the general council which was a.s.sembled at Constantinople; but dying in that capital, Flavian was chosen to succeed him. His life was a perfect copy of the eminent episcopal virtues, and especially of the meekness, the candor, and affability of his worthy predecessor.

Unhappily the schism, which for a long time had divided the church of Antioch, was not yet extinguished. The occasion was this: after the death of St. Eustathius, they could not agree in the choice of his successor; those who were most attached to this holy prelate, with St. Athanasius and the West, followed Paulinus: the Apollinarists declared for Vitalis: and the greatest body of the orthodox of Antioch, with Flavian, Diodorus, and all the East, adhered to St. Meletius, who, as we have seen already, was succeeded by Flavian. Paulinus, bishop of that part of the Catholics called Eustathians, from their attachment to that prelate, though long since dead, still disputed that see with Flavian; but dying in 383, the schism of Antioch must have ended, had not his abettors kept open the breach by choosing Evagrius in his room; though it does not appear that he had one bishop in communion with him, Egypt and the West being now neuter, and the East all holding communion with Flavian. Evagrius dying in 395, the Eustathians, though now without a pastor, still continued their separate meetings, and kept up the schism several years longer. St. Chrysostom being raised to the see of Constantinople, in 398, labored hourly to abolish this fatal schism, which was brought about soon after by commissioners const.i.tuted for this purpose by the West, Egypt, and all the other parties concerned, and the Eustathians received Flavian as their bishop. In the year 404, when St. Chrysostom was banished, Flavian testified his indignation against so unjust a proceeding, and wrote upon that subject to the clergy of Constantinople. But he did not live to be witness of all the sufferings his dear friend was to meet with, dying about three years before him, in 404. The general council of Chalcedon calls him blessed, (Conc. t. 4, p. 840,) and Theodoret (l. 5, c. 232) gives him the t.i.tles of the great, the admirable saint. St. Chrysostom is lavish in his praises of him.

Flavian's sermons and other writings are all lost except his discourse to Theodosius, preserved by St. Chrysostom. No church or Martyrology, whether among the Greeks or Latins, ever placed Falvius I. of Antioch in the catalogue of the saints. Whence Chatelain, in his notes, speaking of St. Meletius, February the 12th, p. 630; and on St. Flavian of Constantinople, February the 17th, p. 685, expresses his surprise at the boldness of Baillet and some others, who, without regard to the decrees of Urban VIII., presumed to do it of their own private authority, and without any reason, have a.s.signed for his feast the 21st of February. Chatelain, in his additions to his Universal Martyrology, p. 711, names him with the epithet of venerable only, on the 26th of September. He is only spoken of here, to answer our design of giving in the notes some account of the most eminent fathers of the church who have never been ranked among the saints. On St. Flavian II. of Antioch, banished by the emperor Anastasius with St. Elias of Jerusalem, for their zeal in defending the council of Chalcedon against the Eutychians, see July {} 4th, on which these two confessors are commemorated in the Roman Martyrology.

10. St. Chrys. Hom. 21, ad Pap. Antioch. seu de Statius. t. 2.

11. Sozom. l. 8, c. 2, &c.

12. Socrat. c. 2. See Stilting, --35, p. 511.

13. St. Chrys. l. Quod regulares foeminae, t. 1, p. 250.

14. Stilting, --41, p. 526.

15. Phot. Cod. 59. Socr. l. 6, c. 21. Stilting, --40, p. 523.

16. [Greek: Kai sunegores elambanomen]. Chrys. Serm. contra ludos et spect. t. 6, p. 272. Ed. Ben. [Greek: Andreas Paulon kai Timotheon].

17. Mich. vi. 3. Jer. ii. 5.

18. Hom. 13, in Ephes. t. 11, p. 95 19. Pallad in Vit. Chrysost. Item S. Chrysost. Hom. in 1 Tim. v. 5, l.

3, de Sacerd. c. 8, and l. ad V{}oior. Stilting, --67, p. 603.

20. [Greek: Ioannes hu tes eleemosunes]. Pallad. c. 12.

21. Hom. 2, & 25, in Acta. Hom. 14, in Hebr. Pallad. in Vit. S. Chrys.

22. S. Procl. Or. 22. p. 581.

23. L. 2, Ep. 294, p. 266.

24. L. 3, de Sacerd.

25. Stilting, --43, p. 530, et seq.

26. About this time the poet Claudian wrote his two books against Eutropius, as he had done before against Rufinus.

27. Pallad. Dial. {} 127. Stilting, --47, p. 542.

28. T. 3, p. 411.

29. S. Joan. Damasc. Orat. 3, de Imaginibus, p. 480, {} Billii. See F.

Sollier in Hist. Chronol. Patriarch Alexand. in Theophilo, p. 52.

30. See Stilting, --54, 55, 5{}, p. 567.

31. T. 3, p. 415.

32. Socrates and Sozomen say that he preached another sermon against the empress, beginning with these words: Herodias is again became furious. But Montfaucon refutes this slander, trumped up by his enemies. The sermon extant under that t.i.tle is a manifest forgery, t. {}n spuriis, p. 1. See Montfaucon, and Stilting, --63, p. 503.

33. {}p t. 3, p. 515. Pallad. Dial. Stilting, --58, p. 578.

34. S. Nilus, l. 2, ep. 265.

35. L. 3, ep. 279.

36. T. 3, p. 525.

37. Ep. 8.

38. Ep. 8, p. 589.

39. Ibid. 3, p. 552.

40. Ibid. 4, p. 570.

41. Pallad. Theodoret, l. 5, c. 34.

42. Pallad. Sozom. l. 8. c. 28.

43. The pa.s.sage of Palladius, in which St. Basiliscus is called bishop of Comana, is evidently falsified by the mistake of copiers, as Stilting demonstrates; who shows this Basiliscus to have suffered not at Nicomedia, but near Comana, in the country where his relics remained; the same that is honored on the 2d of March. It is without grounds that Tillemont, Le Quien, &c., imagine there were two martyrs of the same name, the one a soldier, who suffered at Comana under Galerius Maximian; the other, bishop of that city. T. 5, in S.

Basilisc. note 4. See Stilting, --83, p. 665.

44. Sir Harry Saville is of opinion that he was only fifty-two years old: but he must have been sixty-three, as born in 344.

45. Nestorius, Or. 12, apud Marium Mercat. par. 2, p. 86, ed. Gamier.

Stilting, --88, p. 685.

46. Jos. a.s.semani. Comm. In Calend. Univ. t. 6. p. 105, and Stilting.

47. Joan. xxi. 17. St. Chrys. l. 2, de Sacred. c. 1.

48. Hom. 3 & 44, in Act. et alibi saepe.

49. See St. Chrys. hom. 16, in Rom.

50. Hom. 52, in Acta.

{252}

ON THE WRITINGS

OF

ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM.

IN the Benedictine edition of his works given by Dom Montfaucon, we have in the first tome his two Exhortations to Theodorus; three books against the Adversaries of a Monastic Life; the Comparison between a King and a Monk; two books on Compunction; three books to Stagirius the monk, on Tribulation and Providence; against those Clergymen who harbor Women under their roof to serve them; another treatise to prove that Deaconesses, or other Regular Women, ought not to live under the same roof with men; On Virginity; To a Young Widow; On the Priesthood; and a considerable number of scattered homilies. Theodorus, after renouncing the advantages which high birth, a plentiful estate, a polite education, and an uncommon stock of learning offered him in the world, and having solemnly consecrated himself to G.o.d in a monastic state, violated his sacred engagement, returned into the world, took upon him the administration of his estate, fell in love with a beautiful young woman named Hermione, and desired to marry her. St. Chrysostom, who had formerly been his school-fellow, under Libanius, and been afterwards instrumental in inducing him to forsake the world, and some time his companion in a religious state, grievously lamented his unhappy fall; and by two most tender and pathetic exhortations to repentance, gained him again to G.o.d. Every word is dictated by the most ardent zeal and charity, and powerfully insinuates itself into the heart by the charm of an unparalleled sweetness, which gives to the strength of the most persuasive eloquence an irresistible force. Nothing of the kind extant is more beautiful, or more tender, than these two pieces, especially the former. The saint, in the beginning, borrows the most moving parts of the lamentations of Jeremy, showing that he had far more reason to abandon himself to bitter grief than that prophet; for he mourned not for a material temple and city with the holy ark and the tables of the law, but for an immortal soul, far more precious than the whole material world. And if one soul which observes the divine law is greater and better than ten thousand which transgress it, what reason had he to deplore the loss of one which had been sanctified, and the holy living temple of G.o.d, and shone with the grace of the Holy Ghost: one in which the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost had dwelt; but was stripped of its glory and fence, robbed of its beauty, enslaved by the devil, and fettered with his bolts and chains. Therefore the saint invites all creatures to mourn with him, and declares he will receive no comfort, nor listen to those who offer him any, crying out with the prophet: _Depart from me: I will weep bitterly: offer not to comfort me_. Isa. xxii. 4. His grief, he says, was just, because he wept for a soul that was fallen from heaven to h.e.l.l, from grace into sin: it was reasonable, because by tears she might yet be recovered; and he protests that he would never interrupt them, till he should learn that she was risen again. To fortify his unhappy friend against the temptation of despair, he shows by the promises, examples, and parables of the Old and New Testaments, that no one can doubt of the power or goodness of G.o.d, who is most ready to pardon every sinner that sues for mercy. Observing that h.e.l.l was not created for man, but heaven, he conjures him not to defeat the design of G.o.d in his creation, and destroy the work of his mercy by persevering in sin. The difficulties which seemed to stand in his way, and dispirited him, the saint shows would be all removed, and would even vanish of themselves, if he undertook the work with courage and resolution: this makes the conversion of a soul easy. He terrifies him by moving reflections on death, and the divine judgments, by a dreadful portraiture which he draws of the fire of h.e.l.l, which resembles not our fire, but burns souls, and is eternal; lastly, by the loss of heaven, on the joys of which kingdom he speaks at large; on its immortality, the company of the angels, the joy, liberty, beauty, and glory of the blessed, adding, that such is this felicity, that in its loss consists the most dreadful of all the torments of the d.a.m.ned. Penance averts these evils, and restores to a soul all the t.i.tles and advantages which she had forfeited by her fall: and its main difficulty and labor are vanquished by a firm resolution, and serious beginning of the work. This weakens and throws down the enemy: if he be thoroughly vanquished in that part where he was the strongest, the soul will pursue, with ease and cheerfulness, the delightful and beautiful course of virtue upon which she has entered. He conjures Theodorus, by all that is dear, to have compa.s.sion on himself; also to have pity on his mourning friends, and not by grief send them to their graves: he exhorts him resolutely to break his bonds at once, not to temporize only with his enemy, or pretend to rise by degrees; and he entreats him to exert his whole strength in laboring to {253} be of the happy number of those who, from being the last, are raised by their fervor to the first rank in the kingdom of G.o.d. To encourage him by examples, he mentions a young n.o.bleman of Phoenicia, the son of one Urba.n.u.s, who, having embraced with fervor the monastic state, insensibly fell into lukewarmness, and at length returned into the world, where he enjoyed large possessions, lived in pomp, and abandoned himself to the pursuit of vanity and pleasures; till, opening his eyes upon the remonstrances of certain pious friends, he distributed his whole estate among the poor, and spent the rest of his life in the desert with extraordinary fervor. Another ascetic, falling by degrees, in an advanced age, committed the crime of fornication; but immediately rising, attained to an eminent degree of sanct.i.ty, and was honored with the gift of miracles. The disciple of St.

John, who had been a captain of a troop of robbers and murderers, became an ill.u.s.trious penitent. In like manner, our saint exhorts and conjures this sinner to rise without delay, before he was overtaken by the divine judgments, and to confess his sins with compunction of heart, abundant bitter tears, and a perfect change of life, laboring to efface his crimes by good works, to the least of which Christ has promised a reward.

St. Chrysostom begins his second Exhortation to Theodorus, which is much shorter than the first, by expressing his grief as follows: (t. 1, p.

35:) "If tears and groans could have been conveyed by letters, this would have been filled. I grieve not that you have taken upon you the administration of your affairs; but that you have trampled under your feet the sacred engagement you had made of yourself to Christ. For this I suffer excessive trouble and pain; for this I mourn; for this I am seized with fear and trembling, having before my eyes the severe d.a.m.nation which so treacherous and base a perfidiousness deserves." He tells him yet "that the case is not desperate for a person to have been wounded, but for him to neglect the cure of his wounds. A merchant after s.h.i.+pwreck labors to repair his losses; many wrestlers, after a fall, have risen and fought so courageously as to have been crowned; and soldiers, after a defeat, have rallied and conquered. You allege," says he, "that marriage is lawful. This I readily acknowledge; but it is not now in your power to embrace that state: for it is certain that one who, by a solemn engagement, has given himself to G.o.d as his heavenly spouse, if he violates this contract, he commits an adultery, though he should a thousand times call it marriage. Nay, he is guilty of a crime so much the more enormous as the majesty of G.o.d surpa.s.ses man. Had you been free, no one would charge you with desertion; but since you are contracted to so great a king, you are not at your own disposal." St.

Chrysostom pathetically shows him the danger, baseness, and crime of deferring his repentance, sets before him h.e.l.l, the emptiness of the world, the uneasiness and troubles which usually attend a married life, and the sweetness of the yoke of Christ. He closes this pressing exhortation by mentioning the tears and prayers of his friends, which they would never interrupt, till they had the comfort of seeing him raised from his fall. St. Chrysostom wrote these two exhortations about the year 369, which was the second that he spent in his mother's house at Antioch when he led there an ascetic life. The fruit of his zeal and charity was the conversion of Theodorus, who broke his engagements with the world, and returned to his solitude. In 381 he was made bishop of Mopsuestia. In opposing the Apollinarist heresy, he had the misfortune to lay the seeds of Nestorianism in a book which he composed on the Incarnation, and other writings. He became a declared protector of Julian the Pelagian, when he took refuge in the East; wrote an express treatise against original sin; and maintained the Pelagian errors in a mult.i.tude of other works, which were all condemned after his death, though only fragments of them have reached us, preserved chiefly in Facundus, Photius, and several councils. He died in 428, before the solemn condemnation of his errors, and in the communion of the Catholic church. See Tillemont, t. 12.

During St. Chrysostom's retreat in the mountains, two devout servants of G.o.d desired of him certain instructions on the means of attaining to the virtue of compunction. Demetrius, the first of these, though he was arrived at a high degree of perfection in an ascetic life, always ranked himself among those who crawl on the earth, and said often to St.

Chrysostom, kissing his hand, and watering it with tears, "a.s.sist me to soften the hardness of my heart." St. Chrysostom addressed to him his first book on Compunction, in which he tells him that he was not unacquainted with this grace, of which he had a pledge in the earnestness of his desire to obtain it, his love of retirement, his watching whole nights, and his abundant tears, even those with which, squeezing him by the hand, he lead begged the succor of his advice and prayers, in order to soften his dry, stony heart into compunction. With the utmost confusion for his own want of this virtue, he yielded to his request, begging in return his earnest prayers for the conversion of his own soul. Treating first on the necessities and motives of compunction, he takes notice that Christ p.r.o.nounces those blessed who mourn, and says we ought never to cease weeping for our own sins, and those of the whole world, which deserves and calls for our tears so much the more loudly, as it is insensible of its own miseries. We should never cease weeping, if we considered how much sin reigns among men. The saint considers the sin of rash judgment as a general vice among men, from which he thinks scarce any one will be found to have lived always free. He {254} says the same of anger; then of detraction; and considering how universally these crimes prevail among men, cries out: "What hopes of salvation remain for the generality of mankind, who commit, without reflection, some or other of these crimes, one of which is enough to d.a.m.n a soul?"

He mentions also, as general sins, swearing, evil words, vain-glory, not giving alms, want of confidence in divine providence, and of resignation to his will, covetousness, and sloth in the practice of virtue. He complains that whereas the narrow path only leads to heaven, almost all men throw themselves into the broad way, walking with the mult.i.tude in their employs and actions, seeking their pleasure, interest, or convenience, not what is safest for their souls. Here what motives for our tears! A life of mortification and penance he prescribes, as an essential condition for maintaining a spirit of compunction; saying that water and fire are not more contrary to each other, than a life of softness and delights is to compunction; pleasure being the mother of dissolute laughter and madness. A love of pleasure renders the soul heavy and altogether earthly; but compunction gives her wings, by which she raises herself above all created things. We see worldly men mourn for the loss of friends and other temporal calamities. And are not we excited to weep for our spiritual miseries? We can never cease if we have always before our eyes our sins, our distance from heaven, the pains of h.e.l.l, G.o.d's judgments, and our danger of losing Him, which is the most dreadful of all the torments of the d.a.m.ned.

In his second book On Compunction, which is addressed to Stelechius, he expresses his surprise that he should desire instructions on compunction of one so cold in the divine service as he was; but only one whose breast is inflamed with divine love, and whose words are more penetrating than fire, can speak of that virtue. He says that compunction requires in the first place, solitude, not so much that of the desert, as that which is interior, or of the mind. For seeing that a mult.i.tude of objects disturbs the sight, the soul must restrain all the senses, remain serene, and without tumult or noise within herself, always intent on G.o.d, employed in his love, deaf to corporeal objects.

As men placed on a high mountain hear nothing of the noise of a city situated below them, only a confused stir which they no way heed; so a Christian soul, raised on the mountain of true wisdom, regards not the hurry of the world; and though she is not dest.i.tute of senses, is not molested by them, and applies herself and her whole attention to heavenly things. Thus St. Paul was crucified and insensible to the world, raised as far above its objects as living men differ from carca.s.ses. Not only St. Paul, amid a multiplicity of affairs, but also David, living in the noise of a great city and court, enjoyed solitude of mind, and the grace of perfect compunction, and poured forth tears night and day, proceeding from an ardent love and desire of G.o.d and his heavenly kingdom, the consideration of the divine judgments, and the remembrance of his own sins. Persons that are lukewarm and slothful, think of what they do or have done in penance to cancel their debts; but David nourished perpetually in his breast a spirit of compunction, by never thinking on the penance he had already done, but only on his debts and miseries, and on what he had to do in order to blot out or deliver himself from them. St. Chrysostom begs his friend's prayers that he might be stirred up by the divine grace to weep perpetually under the load of his spiritual evils, so as to escape everlasting torments.

The saint's three books, On Providence, are an exhortation to comfort, patience, and resignation, addressed to Stagirius, a monk possessed by an evil spirit. This Stagirius was a young n.o.bleman, who had exasperated his father by embracing a monastic state: but some time after fell into lukewarmness, and was cruelly possessed by an evil spirit, and seized with a dreadful melancholy, from which those who had received a power of commanding evil spirits were not able to deliver him. St. Chrysostom wrote these books soon after he was ordained deacon in 380. In the first, he shows that all things are governed by divine providence, by which even afflictions are always sent and directed for the good of the elect. For any one to doubt of this is to turn infidel: and if we believe it, what can we fear whatever tribulations befall us, and to whatever height their waves ascend? Though the conduct of divine providence, with regard to the just, be not uniform, it sends to none any tribulations which are not for their good; when they are most heavy, they are designed by G.o.d to prepare men for the greatest crowns.

Moreover, G.o.d is absolute master to dispose of us, as a potter of his clay. What then have we to say? or how dare we presume to penetrate into his holy counsels? The promise of G.o.d can never fail: this gives us an absolute security of the highest advantages, mercy, and eternal glory, which are designed us in our afflictions. St. Chrysostom represents to Stagirius that his trials had cured his former vanity, anger, and sloth, and it was owing to them that he now spent nights and days in fasting, prayer, and reading. In the second book, he presses Stagirius strenuously to reject all melancholy and gloomy thoughts, and not to be uneasy either about his cure, or the grief his situation was likely to give his father, but leaving the issue to G.o.d, with perfect resignation to ask of him this mercy, resting in the entire confidence that whatever G.o.d ordained would turn to his greatest advantage. In the third book, he mentions to Stagirius several of his acquaintance, whose sufferings, both in mind and body, were more grievous than those with which he was afflicted. He bids him also pay a visit to the hospitals and prisons; for he would there see that his cross was light in comparison of what many others endured. {255} He tells him that sin ought to be to him the only subject of grief; and that he ought to rejoice in sufferings as the means by which his sins were to be expiated. A firm confidence in G.o.d, a constant attention to his presence, and perpetual prayer, he calls the strong ramparts against sadness.

When the Arian emperor Valens, in 375, commanded the monks to be turned out of their deserts, and enrolled in the troops, and several Catholics reviled them as bigots and madmen, St. Chrysostom took up his pen to justify them, by three books, ent.i.tled, Against the Impugners of a Monastic State. T. 1, p. 44, he expresses his surprise that any Christians could speak ill of a state which consists in the most perfect means of attaining to true virtue, and says they hurt themselves, not the monks, whose merit they increase; as Nero's persecution of St. Paul, because he had converted one of the tyrant's concubines, enhanced the apostle's glory. A more dreadful judgment is reserved to these enemies of the love of Christ. They said, they drew no one from his faith. The saint retorts: What will faith avail without innocence and virtue? They alleged that a Christian may be saved without retiring into the desert.

He answers: Would to G.o.d men lived so in the world that monasteries were of no advantage! but seeing all disorders prevail in it, who can blame those who seek to shelter themselves from the storm? He elegantly shows that the number of those that are saved in the world is exceeding small, and that the gate of life is narrow. The mult.i.tude perished in Noah's flood, and only eight escaped in the ark. How foolish would it have been to rely carelessly on safety in such danger! Yet here the case is far more dreadful, everlasting fire being the portion of those that are lost. Yet in the world how few resist the torrent, and are not carried down with the crowd, sliding into anger, detraction, rash judgment, covetousness, or some other sin. Almost all, as if it were by common conspiracy, throw themselves into the gulf, where the mult.i.tude of companions will be no comfort. Is it not, then, a part of wisdom to fly from these dangers, in order to secure our only affair in the best manner possible?

Whereas parents sometimes opposed the vocation of their children to a monastic state, in his second book he addresses himself to a Pagan father, who grieved to see his son and heir engaged in that profession.

He tells him he has the greatest reason to rejoice; proving from Socrates, and other heathen philosophers, that his son is more happy in voluntary poverty and contempt of the world, than he could have been in the possession of empires: that he is richer than his father, whom the loss of one bag of his treasures would afflict, whereas the monk, who possessed only a single cloak, could see without concern even that stolen, and would even rejoice though condemned to banishment or death.

He is greater than emperors, more happy than the world, out of the reach of its malice or evil, whom no one could hurt if he desired it. A father who loves his son ought more to rejoice at his so great happiness than if he had seen him a thousand times king of the whole earth, and his life and kingdom secured to him for ten thousand years. What treasures would not have been well employed to purchase for him such a soul as his was rendered by virtue, could this blessing have been procured for money? He displays the falsehood of worldly pleasure; the inconstancy, anxiety, trouble, grief, and bitterness of all its enjoyments, and says that no king can give so sensible a joy as the very sight of a virtuous man inspires. As he speaks to a Pagan, he makes a comparison between Plato and Dionysius the tyrant; then mentions an acquaintance of his own. This was a holy monk, whom his Pagan father, who was a rich n.o.bleman, incensed at his choice of that state, disinherited; but was at length so overcome by the virtue of this son, that he preferred him to all his other children, who were accomplished n.o.blemen in the world, often saying that none of them was worthy to be his slave; and he honored and respected him as if he had been his own father. In the third book, St. Chrysostom directs his discourse to a Christian father, whom he threatens with the judgment of h.e.l.l, if he withdrew his children from this state of perfection, in which they would have become suns in heaven, whereas, if they were saved in the world, their glory would probably be only that of stars. He inveighs against parents, who, by their discourse and example, instil into their children a spirit of vanity, and sow in their tender minds the seeds of covetousness, and all those sins which overrun the world. He compares monks to angels, in their uninterrupted joy and attention to G.o.d; and observes that men in the world are bound to observe the same divine law with the monks, but cannot so easily acquit themselves of this obligation, as he that is hampered with cords cannot run so well as he that is loose and at liberty. He exhorts parents to breed up their children for some years in monasteries, and to omit nothing in forming them to perfect virtue. In his elegant short treatise, ent.i.tled A Comparison between a King and a Monk, t. 1, p. 116, he beautifully shows that a pious monk is incomparably more honorable, more glorious, and more happy than the greatest monarch, by enjoying the favor of heaven, and possessing G.o.d; by the empire over himself and his own pa.s.sions, by which he is king in his own breast, exercising the most glorious command; by the sweetness and riches of divine grace; by the kingdom of G.o.d established in his soul; by prayer, by which all things are in his power; by his universal benevolence and beneficence to others, procuring to every one all spiritual advantages as far as lies in him; by the comfort which he finds in death which is terrible {256} to kings, but by which he is translated to an immortal crown, &c. This book is much esteemed by Montfaucon and the devout Blosius.

St. Chrysostom, in his treatise on Virginity, t. 1, p. 268, says this virtue is a privilege peculiar to the true church, not to be found, at least pure, among heretics: he proves against the Manichees, that marriage is good: yet says that virginity as far excels it as angels men, but that all its excellency is derived from the consecration of a soul to G.o.d, and her attention to please him, without which this state avails nothing.

After he was ordained deacon at Antioch, he composed his book To a Young Widow, (t. 1, p. 337,) a lady who had lost her husband Tarasius, candidate for the prefects.h.i.+p of the city. He draws motives to comfort her from the spiritual advantages of holy widowhood, and the happiness to which her husband was called. His second book To the Widow, (t. 1, p.

349,) is a dissuasive from second marriages, when they are contracted upon worldly motives.

His six incomparable books on the Priesthood, he composed to excuse himself to his friend Basil, who complained that he had been betrayed by him into the episcopal charge; for Chrysostom persuaded him they had time yet to conceal themselves; yet secretly absconded himself and left the other to be chosen. Basil, when he met him afterwards, was not able to speak for some time but by a flood of tears; and at length broke through them only to give vent to his grief in bitter complaints against the treachery of his friend. This work is wrote in a dialogue between the two friends. St. Chrysostom, in the first book, alleges (t. 1, p.

362) that he could not deprive the church of a pastor so well qualified to serve it as Basil was; nor undertake himself a charge for which he had not the essential talents, and in which he should involve others and himself in ruin. In the second book he justifies his own action in not hindering the promotion of his friend to the episcopacy, by observing that to undertake the charge of souls is the greatest proof we can give of our love for Christ, which He declared by putting the question thrice to St. Peter whether he loved him, before he committed to him the care of his flock. John xxi. 15. If we think it an argument of our love for a friend to take care of his servants or cattle, much more will G.o.d recompense faithful pastors, who feed those dear souls to save which G.o.d died. The pastoral charge is certainly the first of all others in merit and dignity. The saint therefore thinks he should have prevaricated if he had deprived the church of a minister capable of serving it. But in order to justify his own flight, he adds that the dangers and difficulties of this state are proportioned to its pre-eminence and advantages. For what can be more difficult and dangerous than the charge of immortal souls, and of applying to them remedies, which, to take effect, depend upon their own co-operation and consent, and must be always proportioned to their dispositions and character, which must be sounded, as well as to their wounds? Remissness leaves a wound half cured: and a suitable penance often exasperates and makes it wider.

Herein the greatest sagacity and prudence are necessary: Nor is the difficulty less in bringing back to the church members which are separated from it. Basil replied to this discourse of St. Chrysostom: "You then love not Christ, who fly from the charge of souls." St.

Chrysostom answered, that he loved him, and fled from this charge because he loved him, fearing to offend him by taking upon him such an office, for which he was every way unqualified. Basil retorts with warmth, that his treachery towards himself was unpardonable, because he was acquainted with his friend's incapacity. Chrysostom answers, that he should never have betrayed him into that dignity, if he had not known his charity and other qualifications. In order to show that he had reason to shun that charge, he in his third book sets forth the excellence and obligations of that dignity; for it is not earthly, but altogether heavenly, and its ministry would do honor to the angels; and a pastor ought to look upon himself as placed among the heavenly spirits, and under an obligation of being no less pure and holy. This he shows, first, from the tremendous sacrifice of the altar, which requires in the offerer a purity truly becoming heaven, and even far surpa.s.sing the sanct.i.ty which was required in so terrible a manner of priests in the Old Law, a mere shadow of ours. "For," says he, "when you behold the Lord himself lying the victim on the altar, and offered, and the priest attending, and praying over the sacrifice, purpled with his precious blood, do you seem to remain among men and on earth, or not rather to be translated into heaven? O wonderful prodigy! O excess of the divine mercy! He who is seated above at the right hand of the Father, is in that hour held by all in their hands, and gives himself to be touched and received. Figure to yourself Elias before the altar, praying alone, the mult.i.tude standing around him in silence, and trembling, and the fire falling from heaven and consuming the sacrifice. What is now done is far more extraordinary, more awful, and more astonis.h.i.+ng. The priest is here standing, and calls down from heaven, not fire, but the Holy Ghost: he prays a long time, not that a flame may be kindled, but that grace may touch the sacrifice, and that the hearts of all who partake of it may be purged by the same." c. 5, p. 385. (See the learned prelate Giacomelli's Note on St. Chrysostom's doctrine on the real presence of the body of Christ in the Eucharist, and on the sacrifice of the altar, in hunc librum, c. 4, p. 340.) Secondly, he mentions the eminent prerogative of binding and loosing, not bodies, but souls, with which the priesthood of the New Law is {257} honored: a power reaching the heavens, where G.o.d confirms the sentence p.r.o.nounced by priests below: a power never given to angels, yet granted to men. John xx. 22. All power was given by the Father to the Son, who again transferred it on men. It is esteemed a great authority if an emperor confers on a private person power to imprison others or to set them at liberty. How great then is the authority with which G.o.d honors the priesthood. The priests of the Old Law declared lepers healed; those of the New really cleanse and heal our souls. They are our spiritual parents, by whom we are reborn to eternal life; they regenerate us by baptism, again remit our sins by extreme unction, (James v. 14,) and by their prayers appease G.o.d whom we have offended. From all which he infers that it is arrogance and presumption to seek such a dignity, which made St. Paul himself tremble (1 Cor. xi. 3, &c.) If the people in a mad phrensy should make an ignorant cobble general of their army, every one would commend such a wretch if he fled and hid himself that he might not be instrumental in his own and his country's ruin. "If any one," says he, "should appoint me pilot, and order me to steer a large vessel in the dangerous Egaen or Tyrrhenian sea, I should be alarmed and struck with fear, and rather fly than drown both myself and crew." The saint proceeds to mention the princ.i.p.al temptations to which a pastor of souls is himself exposed, and the storms by which he is a.s.sailed; as vain-glory, for instance, a more dreadful monster than the sirens of the poets, which pa.s.sengers, by standing on their guard, could sail by and escape. "This rock," says he, "is so troublesome to me even now, when no necessity drives me upon it, that I do not quite escape being hurt by it. But if any one had placed me on so high a pinnacle, it would have been as if, having tied my hands behind my back, he had exposed me to wild beasts to be torn in pieces."

He adds the danger of human respect, fear of the great ones, contempt or neglect of the poor; observing that none can encounter such dangers, but such as are perfect in virtue, disinterested, watchful over themselves, inured to mortification by great abstinence, resting on hard beds, and a.s.siduous labor: lastly, what is most rare, dead to themselves by meekness, sweetness, and charity, which no injuries or reproaches, no ingrat.i.tude, no perverseness, or malice, can ever weary or overcome: for a perfect victory over anger is a most essential part of the character of a good pastor, without which all his virtues will be tarnished, and he will reap no fruit of his labors. He makes this dreadful remark, that within the circle of his own acquaintance he had known many who in solitude led lives pleasing to G.o.d, but being advanced to the priesthood, lost both themselves and others. If no Christian can call to mind, without trembling, the dreadful account which he is to give at the tribunal of Christ for his own sins, how must he tremble at this thought, who sees himself charged with the sins and souls of others?