THIS incomparable doctor, on account of the fluency and sweetness of his
eloquence, obtained soon after his death the surname of Chrysostom, or
Golden Mouth, which we find given him by St. Ephrem of Antioch,
Theodoret, and Cassiodorus. But his tender piety, and his undaunted
courage and zeal in the cause of virtue, are titles far more glorious,
by which he holds an eminent place among the greatest pastors and saints
of the church. About the year 344, according to F. Stilting, Antioch,
the capital city of the East, was ennobled by his illustrious birth. He
had one elder sister, and was the only son and heir of Secundus, master
of the horse, that is, chief commander of the imperial troops in Syria.
His mother, Anthusa, left a widow at twenty years of age, continued such
the remainder of her life, dividing her time between the care of her
family and the exercises of devotion. Her example in this respect made
such an impression on our saint's master, a celebrated pagan sophist,
that he could not forbear crying out, "What wonderful women have the
Christians!"[1] She managed the estate of her children with great
prudence and frugality, knowing this to be part of her duty to God, but
she was sensible that their spiritual instruction in virtue was of
infinitely greater importance. From their cradle she instilled into them
the most perfect maxims of piety, and contempt of the world. The ancient
Romans dreaded nothing more in the education of youth, than their being
ill taught the first principles of the sciences; it being more difficult
to unlearn the errors then imbibed, than to begin on a mere tabula rasa,
or blank paper. Wherefore Anthusa provided her son the ablest masters in
every branch of literature, which the empire at that time afforded.
Eloquence was esteemed the highest accomplishment, especially among the
nobility, and was the surest means of raising men to the first dignities
in the state. John studied that art under Libanius, the most famous
orator of that age; and such was his proficiency, that even in his youth
he excelled his masters. Libanius being asked by his pagan friends on
his death-bed, about the year 390, who should succeed him in his school:
"John," said he, "had not the Christians stolen him from us."[2] Our
saint was then priest. While he was only a scholar, that sophist one day
read to an assembly of orators a declamation composed by him, and it was
received with unusual tokens {234} of admiration and applause. Libanius
pronounced the young orator happy, "as were also the emperors," he said,
"who reigned at a time when the world was possessed of so great a
treasure."[3] The progress of the young scholar in philosophy, under
Andragatius, was no less rapid and surprising; his genius shone in every
disputation. All this time his principal care was to study Christ, and
to learn his spirit. He laid a solid foundation of virtue, by a perfect
humility, self-denial, and a complete victory over himself. Though
naturally hot and inclined to anger, he had extinguished all emotions of
passion in his breast.[4] His modesty, meekness, tender charity, and
singular discretion, rendered him the delight of all he conversed with.
The first dignities of the empire were open to John. But his principal
desire was to dedicate himself to God, without reserve, in holy
solitude. However, not being yet twenty years of age, he for some time
pleaded at the bar. In that employment he was drawn by company into the
diversions of the world, and sometimes assisted at the entertainments of
the stage. His virtue was in imminent danger of splitting against that
fatal rock, when God opened his eyes. He was struck with horror at the
sight of the precipice upon the brink of which he stood; and not content
to flee from it himself, he never ceased to bewail his blindness, and
took every occasion to caution the faithful against that lurking place
of hellish sirens, but more particularly in his vehement sermons against
the stage. Alarmed at the danger he had narrowly escaped, full of
gratitude to God his deliverer, and to prevent the like danger for the
time to come, he was determined to carry his resolution of renouncing
the world into immediate execution. He began by the change of his garb,
to rid himself the more easily of the importunities of friends: for a
penitential habit is not only a means for preserving a spirit of
mortification and humility, but is also a public sign and declaration to
the world, that a person has turned his back on its vanities, and is
engaged in an irreconcilable war against them. His clothing was a coarse
gray coat: he watched much, fasted every day, and spent the greater part
of his time in prayer and meditation on the holy scriptures: his bed was
no other than the hard floor. In subduing his passions, he found none of
so difficult a conquest as vain-glory;[5] this enemy he disarmed by
embracing every kind of public humiliation. The clamors of his old
friends and admirers, who were incensed at his leaving them, and pursued
him with their invectives and censures, were as arrows shot at random.
John took no manner of notice of them: he rejoiced in contempt, and
despised the frowns of a world whose flatteries he dreaded: Christ
crucified was the only object of his heart, and nothing could make him
look back after he had put his hand to the plough. And his progress in
virtue was answerable to his zealous endeavors.
St. Meletius, bishop of Antioch, called the young ascetic to the service
of the church, gave him suitable instructions, during three years, in
his own palace, and ordained him Reader. John had learned the art of
silence, in his retirement, with far greater application than he had
before studied that of speaking. This he discovered when he appeared
again in the world, though no man ever possessed a greater fluency of
speech, or a more ready and enchanting eloquence, joined with the most
solid judgment and a rich fund of knowledge and good sense; yet in
company he observed a modest silence, and regarded talkativeness as an
enemy to the interior recollection of the heart, as a source of many
sins and indiscretions, and as a mark of vanity and self-conceit. He
heard the words of the wise with the humble docility of a scholar, and
he bore the impertinence, trifles, and blunders of {235} fools in
discourse, not to interrupt the attention of his soul to God, or to make
an ostentatious show of his eloquence or science: yet with spiritual
persons he conversed freely on heavenly things, especially with a pious
friend named Basil, one of the same age and inclinations with himself,
who had been his most beloved school-fellow, and who forsook the world
to embrace a monastic life, a little before our saint. After three
years, he left the bishop's house to satisfy the importunities of his
mother, but continued the same manner of life in her house, during the
space of two years. He still saw frequently his friend Basil, and he
prevailed on two of his school-fellows under Libanius to embrace an
ascetic life; Theodorus, afterwards bishop of Mopsuestia, and Maximus,
bishop of Seleucia. The former returned in a short time to the bar, and
fell in love with a young lady called Hermione. John lamented his fall
with bitter tears before God, and brought him back to his holy institute
by two tender and pathetic exhortations to penance, "which breathe an
eloquence above the power of what seems merely human," says Sozomen. Not
long after, hearing that the bishops of the province were assembled at
Antioch, and deliberated to raise him and Basil to the episcopal
dignity, he privately withdrew, and lay hid till the vacant sees were
filled. Basil was made bishop of Raphanaea near Antioch; and had no other
resource in his grief for his promotion, but in tears and complaints
against his friend who had betrayed him into so perilous a charge. John,
being then twenty-six years old, wrote to him in his own justification
six incomparable books, Of the Priesthood.
Four years after, in 374, he retired into the mountains near Antioch,
among certain holy anchorets who peopled them, and whose manner of life
is thus described by our saint:[6] They devoted all the morning to
prayer, pious reading, and meditating on the holy scriptures. Their food
was bread with a little salt; some added oil, and those who were very
weak, a few herbs or pulse; no one ever ate before sunset. After the
refection it was allowed to converse with one another, but only on
heavenly things. They always closed their night-prayers with the
remembrance of the last judgment, to excite themselves to a constant
watchfulness and preparation; which practice St. Chrysostom earnestly
recommends to all Christians with the evening examination.[7] These
monks had no other bed than a mat spread on the bare ground. Their
garments were made of the rough hair of goats or camels, or of old
skins, and such as the poorest beggars would not wear, though some of
them were of the richest families, and had been tenderly brought up.
They wore no shoes; no one possessed any thing as his own; even their
poor necessaries were all in common. They inherited their estates only
to distribute them among the poor; and on them, and in hospitality to
strangers, they bestowed all the spare profits of their work. They all
used the same food, wore a uniform habit, and by charity were all one
heart. The cold words mine and thine, the baneful source of lawsuits and
animosities among men, were banished from their cells. They rose at the
first crowing of the cock, that is, at midnight, being called up by the
superior; and after the morning hymns and psalms, that is, matins and
lauds, all remained in their private cells, where they read the holy
scriptures, and some copied books. All met in the church at the
canonical hours of tierce, sext, none, and vespers, but returned to
their cells, none being allowed to speak, to jest, or to be one moment
idle. The time which others spend a table, or in diversions, they
employed in honoring God; even their meal took up very little time, and
after a short sleep, (according to the custom of hot countries,) {236}
they resumed their exercises, conversing not with men but with God, with
the prophets and apostles in their writings and pious meditation; and
spiritual things were the only subject of their entertainment. For
corporal exercise they employed themselves in some mean manual labor,
such as entertained them in humility, and could not inspire vanity or
pride: they made baskets, tilled and watered the earth, hewed wood,
attended the kitchen, washed the feet of all strangers, and waited on
them without distinction, whether they were rich or poor. The saint
adds, that anger, jealousy, envy, grief, and anxiety for worldly goods
and concerns, were unknown in these poor cells; and he assures us, that
the constant peace, joy, and pleasure which reigned in them, were as
different from the bitterness and tumultuous scenes of the most
brilliant worldly felicity, as the security and calmness of the most
agreeable harbor are, from the dangers and agitation of the most
tempestuous ocean. Such was the rule of these cenobites, or monks who
lived in community. There were also hermits on the same mountains who
lay on ashes, wore sackcloth, and shut themselves up in frightful
caverns, practising more extraordinary austerities. Our saint was at
first apprehensive that he should find it an insupportable difficulty to
live without fresh bread, use the same stinking oil for his food and for
his lamp, and inure his body to hard labor under so great
austerities.[8] But by courageously despising this apprehension, in
consequence of a resolution to spare nothing by which he might learn
perfectly to die to himself; he found the difficulty entirely to vanish
in the execution. Experience shows that in such undertakings, the
imagination is alarmed not so much by realities as phantoms, which
vanish before a courageous heart which can look them in the face with
contempt. Abbot Rance, the reformer of la Trappe, found more difficulty
in the thought of rising without a fire in winter, in the beginning of
his conversion, than he did in the greatest severities which he
afterwards practised. St. Chrysostom passed four years under the conduct
of a veteran Syrian monk, and afterwards two years in a cave as a
hermit. The dampness of this abode brought on him a dangerous distemper,
and for the recovery of his health he was obliged to return into the
city. By this means he was restored to the service of the church in 381,
for the benefit of innumerable souls. He was ordained deacon by St.
Meletius that very year, and priest by Flavian in 386, who at the same
time constituted him his vicar and preacher, our saint being then in the
forty-third year of his age.[9] He discharged all the duties of that
arduous station during twelve {237} years, being the hand and the eye of
his bishop, and his mouth to his flock. The instruction and care of the
poor he regarded as his first obligation: this he always made his
favorite employment and his delight. He never ceased in his sermons to
recommend their cause and the precept of alms deeds to the people.
Antioch, he supposed, contained at that time one hundred thousand
Christian souls: all these he fed with the word of God, preaching
several days in the week, and frequently several times on the same day.
He confounded the Jews and Pagans, also the Anomaeans, and other
heretics. He abolished the most inveterate abuses, repressed vice, and
changed the whole face of that great city. It seemed as if nothing could
withstand the united power of his eloquence, zeal, and piety.
Theodosius I., finding himself obliged to levy a new tax on his
subjects, on occasion of his war with Maximus, who had usurped the
Western empire in 387, the populace of Antioch, provoked at the demand,
mutinied, and discharged their rage on the emperor's statue, those of
his father, his two sons, and his late consort, Flavilla, dragged them
with ropes through the streets, and then broke them to pieces. The
magistrates durst not oppose the rabble in their excesses. But as soon
as their fury was over, and that they began to reflect on what they had
been guilty of, and the natural consequences of their extravagances,
they were all seized with such terror and consternation, that many
abandoned the city, others absconded, and scarce any durst appear
publicly in the streets. The magistrates in the mean time were filling
the prisons with citizens, in order to their trials, on account of their
respective share in the combustion. Their fears were heightened on the
arrival of two officers dispatched from Constantinople to execute the
emperor's orders with regard to the punishment of the rioters. The
reports which were spread abroad on this occasion imported, that the
emperor would cause the guilty to be burned alive, would confiscate
their estates, and level the city with the ground. The consternation
alone was a greater torment than the execution itself could have been.
Flavian, notwithstanding his very advanced age, and though his sister
was dying when he left her, set out without delay in a very severe
season of the year, to implore {238} the emperor's clemency in favor of
his flock. Being come to the palace, and admitted into the emperor's
presence, he no sooner perceived that prince but he stopped at a
distance, holding down his head, covering his face, and speaking only by
his tears, as though himself had been guilty. Thus he remained for some
time. The emperor seeing him in this condition, carrying, as it were,
the weight of the public guilt in his breast, instead of employing harsh
reproaches, as Flavian might naturally have expected, summed up the many
favors he had conferred on that city, and said at the conclusion of each
article: "Is this the acknowledgment I had reason to expect? Is this
their return for my love? What cause of complaint had they against me?
Had I ever injured them? But granting that I had, what can they allege
for extending their insolence even to the dead? Had they received any
wrong from them? Why were they to be insulted too? What tenderness have
I not shown on all occasions for their city? Is it not notorious that I
have given it the preference in my love and esteem to all others, even
to that which gave me birth? Did not I always express a longing desire
to see it, and that it gave the highest satisfaction to think I should
soon be in a condition of taking a journey for this purpose?"
Then the holy bishop, being unable to bear such stinging reproaches or
vindicate their conduct, made answer: "We acknowledge, Sir, that you
have on all occasions favored us with the greatest demonstrations of
your singular affection; and this it is that enhances both our crime and
our grief, that we should have carried our ingratitude to such a pitch
as to have offended our best friend and greatest benefactor: hence,
whatever punishment you may inflict upon us, it will still fall short of
what we deserve. But alas! the evil we have done ourselves is worse than
innumerable deaths: for what can be more afflicting than to live, in the
judgment of all mankind, guilty of the blackest ingratitude, and to see
ourselves deprived of your sweet and gracious protection, which was our
bulwark. We dare not look any man in the face; no, not the sun itself.
But as great as our misery is, it is not irremediable; for it is in your
power to remove it. Great affronts among private men have often been the
occasion of great charity. When the devil's envy had destroyed man,
God's mercy restored him. That wicked spirit, jealous of our city's
happiness, has plunged her into this abyss of evils, out of which you
alone can rescue her. It is your affection, I dare say it, which has
brought them upon us, by exciting the jealousy of the wicked spirits
against us. But, like God himself, you may draw infinite good out of the
evil which they intended us. If you spare us, you are revenged on them.
"Your clemency on this occasion will be more honorable to you than your
most celebrated victories. It will adorn your head with a far brighter
diadem than that which you wear, as it will be the fruit only of your
own virtue. Your statues have been thrown down: if you pardon this
insult, you will raise yourself others, not of marble or brass, which
time destroys, but such as will exist eternally in the hearts of all
those who will hear of this action. Your predecessor, Constantine the
Great, when importuned by his courtiers to exert his vengeance on some
seditious people that had disfigured his statues by throwing stones at
them, did nothing more than stroke his face with his hand, and told
them, smiling, that he did not feel himself hurt. This his saying is yet
in the mouths of all men, and a more illustrious trophy to his memory
than all the cities which he built, than all the barbarous nations which
he subdued. Remember your own memorable saying, when you ordered the
prisons to be opened, and the criminals to be pardoned at the feast of
Easter: 'Would to God I were able in the same manner to open the graves,
and restore the dead to life!' That time is now come. {239} Here is a
city whose inhabitants are already dead; and is, as it were, at the
gates of its sepulchre. Raise it then, as it is in your power to do,
without cost or labor. A word will suffice. Suffer it by your clemency
to be still named among the living cities. It will then owe more to you
than to its very founder. He built it small, you will raise it great and
populous. To have preserved it from being destroyed by barbarians would
not have been so great an exploit, as to spare it on such an occasion as
now offers.
"Neither is the preservation of an illustrious city the only thing to be
considered; your own glory, and, above all, the honor of the Christian
religion, are highly interested in this affair. The Jews and Pagans, all
barbarous nations, nay, the whole world, have their eyes fixed on you at
this critical juncture; all are waiting for the judgment you will
pronounce. If it be favorable, they will be filled with admiration, and
will agree to praise and worship that God, who checks the anger of those
who acknowledge no master upon earth, and who can transform men into
angels; they will embrace that religion which teaches such sublime
morality. Listen not to those who will object that your clemency on this
occasion may be attended with, and give encouragement to the like
disorders in other cities. That could only happen, if you spared for
want of a power to chastise: but whereas you do not divest yourself, by
such an act of clemency, of this power, and as by it you endear and
rivet yourself the more in the affections of your subjects, this,
instead of encouraging such insults and disorders, will rather the more
effectually prevent them. Neither immense sums of money, nor innumerable
armies, could ever have gained you so much the hearts of your subjects
and their prayers for your person and empire, as will this single
action. And if you stand fair for being such a gainer from men, what
rewards may you not reasonably expect from God? It is easy for a master
to punish, but rare and difficult to pardon.
"It will be extremely glorious to you to have granted this pardon at the
request of a minister of the Lord, and it will convince the world of
your piety, in that you overlooked the unworthiness of his person, and
respected only the power and authority of that Master who sent him. For
though deputed immediately by the inhabitants of Antioch to deprecate
your just displeasure on this occasion, it is not only in their name
that I appear in this place, for I am come from the sovereign Lord of
men and angels to declare to you in his name, that, if you pardon men
their faults, he will forgive you your sins. Call to mind then that
dreadful day on which we shall all be summoned to give in an account of
all our actions. Reflect on your having it now in your power, without
pain or labor, to efface your sins, and to find mercy at that terrible
tribunal. You are about to pronounce your own sentence. Other
ambassadors bring gold, silver, and other like presents, but as for me,
I offer nothing but the law of God, and entreat you to imitate his
example on the cross." He concluded his harangue by assuring the emperor
that if he refused to pardon the city, he would never more return to it,
nor look upon that city as his country, which a prince of his humane
disposition could not prevail upon himself to pardon.
This discourse had its desired effect on the emperor, who with much
difficulty suppressed his tears while the bishop spoke, whom he answered
in these few words: "If Jesus Christ, the Lord of all things, vouchsafed
to pardon and pray for those very men that crucified him, ought I to
hesitate to pardon them who have offended me? I, who am but a mortal man
like them, and a servant of the same Master." The patriarch, overjoyed
at his success, prostrated himself at the emperor's feet, wishing him a
reward for such an action suitable to its merit. And whereas the prelate
made an offer of passing the feast of Easter with the emperor at
Constantinople, he, to {240} testify how sincerely he was reconciled to
the city of Antioch, urged his immediate return, saying: "Go, Father,
delay not a moment the consolation your people will receive at your
return, by communicating to them the assurances of the pardon I grant
them; I know they must be in great affliction." The bishop set out
accordingly; but, to delay as little as possible the joy of the
citizens, he dispatched a courier before him with the emperor's letter
of pardon, which produced a comfortable change in the face of affairs.
The bishop himself arrived time enough before Easter to keep that
solemnity with his people. The joy and triumph of that city could not be
greater; it is elegantly described by St. Chrysostom, extolling above
all things the humility and modesty of Flavian, who attributed the whole
change of Theodosius's mind, and all the glory of the action, to God
alone. The discourse which Flavian addressed to the emperor, except the
introduction, had been composed by St. Chrysostom, who recited it to the
people to comfort them, and ceased not strongly to exhort them to
penance, and the fervent exercise of good works, during the whole time
of their bishop's absence.[10] After this storm our saint continued his
labors with unwearied zeal, and was the honor, the delight, and the
darling not of Antioch only but of all the East, and his reputation
spread itself over the whole empire.[11] But God was pleased to call him to
glorify his name on a new theatre, where he prepared for his virtue
other trials, and other crowns.
St. Chrysostom had been five years deacon, and twelve years priest, when
Nectarius, bishop of Constantinople, dying in 397, the emperor Arcadius,
at the suggestion of Eutropius the eunuch, his chamberlain, resolved to
procure the election of our saint to the patriarchate of that city. He
therefore dispatched a secret order to the count of the East, enjoining
him to send John to Constantinople, but by some stratagem; lest his
intended removal, if known at Antioch, should cause a sedition, and be
rendered impracticable. The count repaired to Antioch, and desiring the
saint to accompany him out of the city to the tombs of the martyrs, on
the pretence of devotion, he there delivered him into the hands of an
officer sent on purpose, who, taking him into his chariot, conveyed him
with all possible speed to the imperial city. Theophilus, patriarch of
Alexandria, a man of a proud and turbulent spirit, was come thither to
recommend a creature of his own to that dignity. He endeavored by
illegal practices secretly to traverse the canonical promotion of our
saint; but was detected, and threatened to be accused in a synod.
Whereupon he was glad to desist from his intrigues, and thus John was
consecrated by him on the 26th of February, in 398.[12] In regulating
his own conduct and his domestic concerns, he retrenched all the great
expenses which his predecessors had entailed on their dignity, which he
looked upon as superfluous, and an excessive prodigality, and these sums
he applied to the relief of the poor, especially of the sick. For this
purpose he erected and maintained several numerous hospitals, under the
government of holy and charitable priests, and was very careful that all
the servants and attendants were persons of great virtue, tenderness,
compassion, and prudence. His own family being settled in good order,
the next thing he took in hand after his promotion was the reformation
of his clergy. This he forwarded by zealous exhortations and proper
rules for their conduct, tending both to their sanctification and
exemplarity. And to give these his endeavors their due force, he lived
an exact model of what he inculcated to others: but his zeal exasperated
the tepid part of that order, and raised a storm against himself. The
immodesty {241} of women in their dress in that gay capital excited in
him sentiments of the most just abhorrence and indignation. Some young
ladies seemed to have forgot that clothing is the covering of the
ignominy of sin, and ought to be an instrument of penance, and a motive
of confusion and tears, not of vanity. But the exhortations of St.
Chrysostom moved many to despise and lay aside the use of purple, silks,
and jewels. It was a far more intolerable scandal that some neglected to
cover their necks, or used such thin veils as served only to invite the
eyes of others more boldly. Our saint represented to such persons that
they were in some respects worse than public prostitutes: for these hide
their baits at home only for the wicked: "but you," said he, "carry your
snare everywhere, and spread your nets publicly in all places. You
allege, that you never invited others to sin. You did not by your
tongue, but you have done it by your dress and deportment more
effectually than you could by your voice: when you have made another to
sin in his heart, how can you be innocent? You sharpened and drew the
sword: you gave the thrust by which the soul is wounded.[13] Tell me,
whom does the world condemn? whom do judges punish? Those who drink the
poison, or those who prepare and give the fatal draught? You have
mingled the execrable cup; you have administered the potion of death:
you are so much more criminal than poisoners, as the death which you
cause is the more terrible; for you murder not the body, but the soul.
Nor do you do this to enemies; nor compelled by necessity, nor provoked
by any injury; but out of a foolish vanity and pride. You sport
yourselves in the ruin of the souls of others, and make their spiritual
death your pastime." Hence he infers, how false and absurd their excuse
is in saying, they mean no harm. These and many other scandals he
abolished. He suppressed the wicked custom of swearing, first at
Antioch, then at Constantinople. By the invincible power of his
eloquence and zeal he tamed the fiercest sinners, and changed them into
meek lambs: he converted an incredible number of idolaters and
heretics.[14] His mildness towards sinners was censured by the
Novatians; he invited them to repentance with the compassion of the most
tender father, and was accustomed to cry out: "If you are fallen a
second time, or even a thousand times into sin, come to me and you shall
be healed."[15] But he was firm and severe in maintaining discipline,
though without harshness; to impenitent sinners he was inflexible. To
mention one instance of the success of his holy zeal out of the many
which his sermons furnish; in the year 399, the second of his
episcopacy, on Wednesday in Holy Week, so violent a rain fell as to
endanger the corn, and threaten the whole produce of the country.
Hereupon public processions were made to the church of the apostles by
the bishop and people, to avert the scourge by imploring the
intercession chiefly of St. Peter, St. Andrew, (who is regarded as the
founder of the church of Byzantium,) St. Paul, and St. Timothy.[16] The
rain ceased, but not their fears. Therefore they all crossed the
Bosphorus to the church of SS. Peter and Paul, on the opposite side of
the water. This danger was scarce over, when on the Friday following
many ran to see certain horse-races, and on Holy Saturday to games
exhibited at the theatre. The good bishop was pierced to the quick with
grief, and on the next day, Easter-Sunday, preached a most zealous and
eloquent sermon, Against the Games and Shows of the Theatre and Circus.
Indignation made him not so much as mention the paschal solemnity;{242}
but by an abrupt exordium he burst into the most vehement pathos, as
follows: "Are these things to be borne? Can they be tolerated? I appeal
to yourselves, be you your own judges. Thus did God expostulate with the
Jews."[17] This exclamation he often repeated to assuage his grief. He
put the people in mind of the sanctity of our faith; of the rigorous
account we must give to God of all our moments, and the obligation of
serving him incumbent on us from his benefits, who has made for us the
heaven and earth, the sun, light, rivers, &c. The saint grieved the
more, because, after all, they said they had done no harm, though they
had murdered not only their own souls, but also those of their children.
"And how will you," said he, "after this approach the holy place? How
will you touch the heavenly food? Even now do I see you overwhelmed with
grief, and covered with confusion. I see some striking their foreheads,
perhaps those who have not sinned, but are moved with compassion for
their brethren. On this account do I grieve and suffer, that the devil
should make such a havoc in such a flock. But if you join with me, we
will shut him out. By what means? If we seek out the wounded, and snatch
them out of his jaws. Do not tell me their number is but small: though
they are but ten, this is a great loss: though but five, but two, or
only one. The shepherd leaving ninety-nine, did not return till he had
completed his number by recovering that sheep which was lost. Do not
say, it is only one; but remember that it is a soul for which all things
visible were made; for which laws were given, miracles wrought, and
mysteries effected: for which God spared not his only Son. Think how
great a price hath been paid for this one sheep, and bring him back to
the fold. If he neither hears your persuasions nor my exhortations, I
will employ the authority with which God hath invested me." He proceeds
to declare such excommunicated. The consternation and penance of the
city made the holy pastor forbear any further censure, and to commend
their conversion. Palladius writes that he had the satisfaction to see
those who had been the most passionately fond of the entertainments of
the stage and circus, moved by his sermons on that subject, entirely
renounce those schools of the devil. God is more glorified by one
perfect soul than by many who serve him with tepidity. Therefore, though
every individual of his large flock was an object of his most tender
affection and pastoral concern, those were particularly so, who had
secluded themselves from the world by embracing a religious state of
life, the holy virgins and nuns. Describing their method of life, he
says:[18] Their clothing was sackcloth, and their beds only mats spread
on the floor; that they watched part of the night in prayer, walked
barefoot, never ate before evening, and never touched so much as bread,
using no other food than pulse and herbs, and that they were always
occupied in prayer, manual labor, or serving the sick of their own sex.
The spiritual mother, and the sun of this holy company, St. Nicareta, is
honored December the 27th. Among the holy widows who dedicated
themselves to God under the direction of this great master of saints,
the most illustrious were the truly noble ladies St. Olympias, Salvina,
Procula, and Pantadia. This last (who was the widow of Timasus, formerly
the first minister to the emperor) was constituted by him deaconess of
the church of Constantinople. Widows he considered as by their state
called to a life of penance, retirement, and devotion; and he spared no
exhortations or endeavors to engage them faithfully to correspond to the
divine grace, according to the advice which St. Paul gives them.[19] St.
Olympias claimed the privilege of furnishing the expenses of the saint's
{243} frugal table. He usually ate alone: few would have been willing to
dine so late, or so coarsely and sparingly as he did; and he chose this
to save both time and expenses: but he kept another table in a house
near his palace, for the entertainment of strangers, which he took care
should be decently supplied. He inveighed exceedingly against sumptuous
banquets. All his revenues he laid out on the poor; for whose relief he
sold the rich furniture which Nectarius had left; and once, in a great
dearth, he caused some of the sacred vessels to be melted down for that
purpose. This action was condemned by Theophilus, but is justly regarded
by St. Austin as a high commendation of our holy prelate. Besides the
public hospital near his cathedral, and several others which he founded
and maintained, he erected two for strangers. His own patrimony he had
given to the poor long before, at Antioch. His extraordinary charities
obtained him the name of John of alms-deeds.[20] The spiritual
necessities of his neighbor were objects of far greater compassion to
his tender charity. His diocese, nay, the whole world, he considered as
a great hospital of souls, spiritually blind, deaf, sick, and in danger
of perishing eternally; many standing on the brink, many daily falling
from the frightful precipice into the unquenchable lake. Not content
with tears and supplications to the Father of mercies for their
salvation, he was indefatigable in labors and in every endeavor to open
their eyes; feared no dangers, no not death itself in its most frightful
shapes, to succor them in their spiritual necessities, and prevent their
fall. Neither was this pastoral care confined to his own flock or
nation: he extended it to the remotest countries. He sent a bishop to
instruct the Nomades or wandering Scythians: another, an admirable man,
to the Goths. Palestine, Persia, and many other distant provinces felt
the most beneficent influence of his zeal. He was himself endued with an
eminent spirit of prayer: this he knew to be the great channel of
heavenly graces, the cleanser of the affections of the soul from earthly
dross, and the means which renders them spiritual and heavenly, and
makes men angels, even in their mortal body. He was therefore
particularly earnest in inculcating this duty, and in instructing others
in the manner of performing it. He warmly exhorted the laity to rise to
the midnight office of matins together with the clergy: "Many artisans,"
said he, "watch to labor, and soldiers watch as sentries; and cannot you
do as much to praise God?"[21] He observes, that the silence of the
night is peculiarly adapted to devout prayer, and the sighs of
compunction: which exercise we ought never to interrupt too long; and by
watching, prayer becomes more earnest and powerful. Women he will not
have to go easily abroad to church in the night-time; but advises that
even children rise in the night to say a short prayer, and as they
cannot watch long be put to bed again: for thus they will contract from
their infancy a habit of watching, and a Christian's whole house will be
converted into a church. The advantages and necessity of assiduous
prayer he often recommends with singular energy; but he expresses
himself on no subject with greater tenderness and force than on the
excess of the divine love, which is displayed in the holy Eucharist, and
in exhorting the faithful to the frequent use of that heavenly
sacrament. St. Proclus says,[22] that he abridged the liturgy of his
church. St. Nilus[23] assures us that he was often favored with visions
of angels in the church during the canonical hours, surrounding the
altars in troops during the celebration of the divine mysteries, and at
the communion of the people. The saint himself confidently avers {244}
that this happens at those times,[24] which he confirms by the visions
of several hermits.
The public concerns of the state often called on the saint to afford the
spiritual succors of his zeal and charity. Eutropius was then at the
head of affairs. He was a eunuch, and originally a slave, but had worked
himself into favor with the emperor Arcadius. In 395 he was instrumental
in cutting off Rufinus, the chief minister, who had broke out into an
open rebellion, and he succeeded the traitor in all his honors: golden
statues were erected to him in several parts of the city, and what
Claudian, Marcellinus in his chronicle, Suidas, and others, represent as
the most monstrous event that occurs in the Roman Fasti, was declared
consul, though a eunuch. Being placed on so high a pinnacle, a situation
but too apt to turn the strongest head, forgetful of himself and the
indispensable rules of decency and prudence, it was not long before he
surpassed his predecessor in insolence, ambition, and covetousness.
Wholesome advice, even from a Chrysostom, served only to exasperate a
heart devoted to the world, and open to flatterers, who added
continually new flames to its passions. In the mean time, the murmurs
and indignation of the whole empire at the pride and avarice of
Eutropius were a secret to him, till the pit was prepared for his fall.
Gainas, general of the auxiliary Goths in the imperial army, was stirred
up to revenge an affront which his cousin Trigibildus, a tribune, had
received from the haughty minister. At the same time the empress
Eudoxia, having been insulted by him, ran to the emperor, carrying her
two little babes in her arms, and cried out for justice against the
insolent servant. Arcadius, who was as weak in abandoning, as he was
imprudent in choosing favorites, gave orders that the minister should be
driven out of the court, and his estates confiscated. Eutropius found
himself in a moment forsaken by all the herds of his admirers and
flatterers, without one single friend, and fled for protection to the
church, and to those very altars whose immunities he had infringed and
violated. The whole city was in an uproar against him; the army called
aloud for his death, and a troop of soldiers surrounded the church with
naked swords in their hands, and fire in their eyes. St. Chrysostom went
to the emperor, and easily obtained of him that the unhappy criminal
might be allowed to enjoy the benefit of sanctuary; and the soldiers
were prevailed upon, by the tears of the emperor and the remonstrances
of the bishop, to withdraw. The next day the people flocked to behold a
man whose frown two days before made the whole world to tremble, now
laying hold of the altar, gnashing his teeth, trembling and shuddering,
having nothing before his eyes but drawn swords, dungeons, and
executioners. St. Chrysostom on this occasion made a pathetic discourse
on the vanity and treachery of human things, the emptiness and falsehood
of which he could not find a word emphatical enough to express. The poor
Eutropius could not relish such truths a few days ago, but now found his
very riches destructive. The saint entreated the people to forgive him
whom the emperor, the chief person injured, was desirous to forgive: he
asked them how they could beg of God the pardon of their own sins if
they did not pardon a man who then, by repentance, was perhaps a saint
in the eyes of God. At this discourse not a single person in the church
was able to refrain from tears, and all things seemed in a state of
tranquillity.[25] Some days after, Eutropius left the church, hoping to
escape privately out of the city, but was seized, and banished into
Cyprus.[26] He was recalled a few months after, and being impeached
{245} of high-treason was condemned and beheaded, chiefly at the
instigation of Gainas; in compliance with whose unjust demands the weak
emperor consented to the death of Aurelianus and Saturninus, two
principal lords of his court. But St. Chrysostom, by several journeys,
prevailed with the barbarian to content himself with their banishment,
which they underwent, but were soon after recalled. As unjust
concessions usually make rebels the more insolent, Gainas hereupon
obliged the emperor to declare him commander-in-chief of all his troops.
Yet even when his pride and power were at the highest, St. Chrysostom
refused him the use of any Catholic church in Constantinople for the
Arian worship. And when, some time after, he laid siege to that capital,
the saint went out to him, and by kind expostulations prevailed on him
to withhold his design and draw off his army. He was afterwards defeated
in passing the Hellespont; and fleeing through the country of the Huns,
was overthrown, and slain by them in 400.
This same year, 400, St. Chrysostom held a council of bishops in
Constantinople; one of whom had preferred a complaint against his
metropolitan Antoninus, the archbishop of Ephesus, which consisted of
several heads, but that chiefly insisted on was simony.[27] All our
saint's endeavors to discuss this affair being frustrated by the
distance of places, he found it necessary, at the solicitation of the
clergy and people of Ephesus, to go in person to that city, though the
severity of the winter season, and the ill state of health he was then
in, might be sufficient motives for retarding this journey. In this and
the neighboring cities several councils were held, in which the
archbishop of Ephesus and several other bishops in Asia, Lycia, and
Phrygia, were deposed for simony. Upon his return after Easter, in 401,
having been absent a hundred days, he preached the next morning,[28]
calling his people, in the transports of tender joy, his crown, his
glory, his paradise planted with flourishing trees; but if any bad
shrubs should be found in it, he promised that no pains should be spared
to change them into good. He bid them consider if they rejoiced so much
as they testified, to see him again who was only one, how great his joy
must be which was multiplied in every one of them: he calls himself
their bond-slave, chained to their service, but says, that slavery was
his delight, and that during his absence he ever had them present to his
mind, offering up his prayers for their temporal and spiritual welfare.
It remained that our saint should glorify God by his sufferings, as he
had already done by his labors: and if we contemplate the mystery of the
cross with the eyes of faith, we shall find him greater in the
persecutions he sustained than in all the other occurrences of his life.
At the same time we cannot sufficiently deplore the blindness of envy
and pride in his enemies, as in the Pharisees against Christ himself. We
ought to tremble for ourselves: if that passion does not make us
persecute a Chrysostom, it may often betray us into rash judgments,
aversions, and other sins, even under a cloak of virtue. The first open
adversary of our saint was Severianus, bishop of Gabala, in Syria, to
whom the saint had left the care of his church during his absence. This
mart had acquired the reputation of a preacher, was a favorite of the
empress Eudoxia, and had employed all his talents and dexterity to
establish himself in the good opinion of the court and people, to the
prejudice of the saint, against whom he had preached in his own city.
Severianus being obliged to leave Constantinople at the saint's return,
he made an excellent discourse to his flock on the peace Christ came to
establish on earth, and begged they would receive again Severianus, whom
they {246} had expelled the city. Another enemy of the saint was
Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria, whom Sozomen, Socrates, Palladius,
St. Isidore of Pelusium, and Synesius, accuse of avarice and oppressions
to gratify his vanity in building stately churches; of pride, envy,
revenge, dissimulation, and an incontrollable love of power and rule, by
which he treated other bishops as his slaves, and made his will the rule
of justice. His three paschal letters, which have reached us, show that
he wrote without method, and that his reflections and reasonings were
neither just nor apposite: whence the loss of his other writings is not
much to be regretted. These spiritual vices sullied his zeal against the
Anthropomorphites, and his other virtues. He died in 412, wishing that
he had lived always in a desert, honoring the name of the holy
Chrysostom, whose picture he caused to be brought to his bedside, and by
reverencing it, showed his desire to make atonement for his past ill
conduct towards our saint.[29] This turbulent man had driven from their
retreat four abbots of Nitria, called the tall brothers, on a groundless
suspicion of Origenism, as appears from Palladius, though it was
believed by St. Jerom, which is maintained by Baronius. St. Chrysostom
admitted them to communion, but not till they had juridically cleared
themselves of it in an ample manner.[30] This however was grievously
resented by Theophilus: but the empress Eudoxia, who, after the disgrace
of Eutropius, governed her husband and the empire, was the main spring
which moved the whole conspiracy against the saint. Zozimus, a heathen
historian, says, that her flagrant avarice, her extortions and
injustices, knew no bounds, and that the court was filled with
informers, calumniators, and harpies, who, being always on the watch for
prey, found means to seize the estates of such as died rich, and to
disinherit their children or other heirs. No wonder that a saint should
displease such a court while he discharged his duty to God. He had
preached a sermon against the extravagance and vanity of women in dress
and pomp. This was pretended by some to have been levelled at the
empress; and Severianus was not wanting to blow the coals. Knowing
Theophilus was no friend to the saint, the empress, to be revenged of
the supposed affront, sent to desire his presence at Constantinople, in
order to depose him. He obeyed the summons with pleasure, and landed at
Constantinople in June, 403, with several Egyptian bishops his
creatures, refused to see or lodge with John, and got together a packed
cabal of thirty-six bishops, the saint's enemies, in a church at
Chalcedon, calling themselves the synod at the Oak, from a great tree
which gave name to that quarter of the town. The heads of the
impeachment drawn up against the holy bishop were: that he had deposed a
deacon for beating a servant; that he had called several of his clergy
base men; had deposed bishops out of his province; had ordained priests
in his domestic chapel, instead of the cathedral; had sold things
belonging to the church; that nobody knew what became of his revenues;
that he ate alone; and that he gave the holy communion to persons who
were not fasting: all which were false or frivolous. The saint held a
legal council of forty bishops in the city at the same time; and refused
to appear before that at the Oak, alleging most notorious infractions of
the canons in their pretended council. The cabal proceeded to a sentence
of deposition, which they sent to the city and to the emperor, to whom
they also accused him of treason, for having called the empress Jezabel,
a false assertion, as Palladius testifies. The emperor hereupon issued
out an order for his banishment, but the execution of it was opposed by
the people, who assembled about the great church to guard their pastor.
{247} He made them a farewell sermon,[31] in which he spoke as follows:
"Violent storms encompass me on all sides; yet I am without fear,
because I stand upon a rock. Though the sea roar, and the waves rise
high, they cannot sink the vessel of Jesus. I fear not death, which is
my gain: not banishment, for the whole earth is the Lord's: nor the loss
of goods; for I came naked into the world, and must leave it in the same
condition. I despise all the terrors of the world and trample upon its
smiles and favor. Nor do I desire to live unless for your service.
Christ is with me: whom shall I fear? Though waves rise against me:
though the sea, though the fury of princes threaten me, all these are to
me more contemptible than a spider's web. I always say: O Lord, may thy
will be done: not what this or that creature wills, but what it shall
please thee to appoint, that shall I do and suffer with joy. This is my
strong tower: this is my unshaken rock: this is my staff that can never
fail. If God be pleased that it be done, let it be so. Wheresoever his
will is that I be, I return him thanks." He declared that he was ready
to lay down a thousand lives for them, if at his disposal, and that he
suffered only because he had neglected nothing to save their souls. On
the third day after the unjust sentence given against him, having
received repeated orders from the emperor to go into banishment, and
taking all possible care to prevent a sedition, he surrendered himself,
unknown to the people, to the count, who conducted him to Praenetum in
Bithynia. After his departure his enemies entered the city with guards,
and Severianus mounted the pulpit, and began to preach, pretending to
show the deposition of the saint to have been legal and just. But the
people would not suffer him to proceed, and ran about as if distracted,
loudly demanding in a body the restoration of their holy pastor. The
next night the city was shook with an earthquake. This brought the
empress to reflect with remorse on what she had done against the holy
bishop. She applied immediately to the emperor, under the greatest
consternation, for his being recalled; crying out: "Unless John be
recalled, our empire is undone:" and with his consent she dispatched
letters the same night, inviting him home with tender expressions of
affection and esteem, and protesting her ignorance of his banishment.
Almost all the city went out to meet him, and great numbers of lighted
torches were carried before him. He stopped to the suburbs, refusing to
enter the city till he had been declared innocent by a more numerous
assembly of bishops. But the people would suffer no delay: the enemies
of the saint fled, and he resumed his functions, and preached to his
flock. He pressed the emperor to call Theophilus to a legal synod: but
that obstinate persecutor alleged that he could not return without
danger of his life. However, Sozomen relates that threescore bishops
ratified his return: but the fair weather did not last long. A silver
statue of the empress having been erected on a pillar before the great
church of St. Sophia, the dedication of it was celebrated with public
games, which, besides disturbing the divine service, engaged the
spectators in extravagances and superstition. St. Chrysostom had often
preached against licentious shows; and the very place rendered these the
more criminal. On this occasion, fearing lest his silence should be
construed as an approbation of the thing, he, with his usual freedom and
courage, spoke loudly against it. Though this could only affect the
Manichaean overseer of those games, the vanity of the empress made her
take the affront to herself, and her desires of revenge were
implacable.[32] His enemies were invited back: Theophilus {248} durst
not come, but sent three deputies. Though St. John had forty-two bishops
with him, this second cabal urged to the emperor certain canons of an
Arian council of Antioch, made only to exclude St. Athanasius, by which
it was ordained that no bishop who had been deposed by a synod, should
return to his see till he was restored by another synod. This false plea
overruled the justice of the saint's cause, and Arcadius sent him an
order to withdraw. He refused to forsake a church committed to him by
God, unless forcibly compelled to leave it. The emperor sent troops to
drive the people out of the churches on Holy-Saturday, and the holy
places were polluted with blood and all manner of outrages. The saint
wrote to pope Innocent, begging him to declare void all that had been
done; for no injustice could be more notorious.[33] He also wrote to beg
the concurrence of certain other holy bishops of the West. The pope
having received from Theophilus the acts of the false council at the
Oak, even by them saw the glaring injustice of its proceedings, and
wrote to him, exhorting him to appear in another council, where sentence
should be given according to the canons of Nice, meaning by those words
to condemn the Arian canons of Antioch. He also wrote to St. Chrysostom,
to his flock, and several of his friends: and endeavored to redress
these evils by a new council: as did also the emperor Honorius. But
Arcadius and Eudoxia found means to prevent its assembling, the very
dread of which made Theophilus, Severianus, and other ringleaders of the
faction to tremble.
St. Chrysostom was suffered to remain at Constantinople two months after
Easter. On Thursday, in Whitsun-week, the emperor sent him an order for
his banishment. The holy man, who received it in the church, said to
those about him, "Come, let us pray, and take leave of the angel of the
church." He took leave of the bishops, and, stepping into the
baptistery, also of St. Olympias and the other deaconesses, who were
overwhelmed with grief and bathed in tears. He then retired privately
out of the church, to prevent a sedition, and was conducted by Lucius, a
brutish captain, into Bithynia, and arrived at Nice on the 20th of June,
404. After his departure, a fire breaking out, burnt down the great
church and the senate-house, two buildings which were the glory of the
city: but the baptistery was spared by the flames, as it were to justify
the saint against his calumniators; for not one of the rich vessels was
found wanting. In this senate-house perished the incomparable statues of
the muses from Helicon, and other like ornaments, the most valuable then
known: so that Zozimus looks upon this conflagration as the greatest
misfortune that had ever befallen that city. Palladius ascribes the fire
to the anger of heaven. Many of the saint's friends were put to the most
exquisite tortures on this account, but no discovery could be made. The
Isaurians plundered Asia, and the Huns several other provinces. Eudoxia
ended her life and crimes in childbed on the 6th of October following,
five days after a furious hail-storm had made a dreadful havoc in the
city. The emperor wrote to St. Nilus, to recommend himself and his
empire to his prayers. The hermit answered him with a liberty of speech
which became one who neither hoped nor feared any thing from the world.
"How do you hope," said he, "to see Constantinople delivered from the
destroying angel of God, after such enormities authorized by laws? after
having banished the most blessed John, the pillar of the church, the
lamp of truth, the trumpet of Jesus Christ!"[34] And again: "You have
banished John, the greatest light of the earth:--At least, {249} do not
persevere in your crime."[35] His brother, the emperor Honorius, wrote
still in stronger terms,[36] and several others. But in vain; for
certain implacable court ladies and sycophants, hardened against all
admonitions and remorse, had much too powerful an ascendant over the
unhappy emperor, for these efforts of the saint's friends to meet with
success. Arsacius, his enemy and persecutor, though naturally a soft and
weak man, was by the emperor's authority intruded into his see. The
saint enjoyed himself comfortably at Nice: but Cucusus was pitched upon
by Eudoxia for the place of his banishment. He set out from Nice in
July, 404, and suffered incredible hardships from heats, fatigues,
severity of guards, almost perpetual watchings, and a fever which soon
seized him with pains in his breast. He was forced to travel almost all
night, deprived of every necessary of life, and was wonderfully
refreshed if he got a little clear water to drink, fresh bread to eat,
or a bed to take a little rest upon. All he lamented was the impenitence
of his enemies, for their own sake: calling impunity in sin, and honor
conferred by men on that account, the most dreadful of all
judgments.[37] About the end of August, after a seventy days' journey,
he arrived at Cucusus, a poor town in Armenia, in the deserts of Mount
Taurus. The good bishop of the place vied with his people in showing the
man of God the greatest marks of veneration and civility, and many
friends met him there, both from Constantinople and Antioch. In this
place, by sending missionaries and succors, he promoted the conversion
of many heathen countries, especially among the Goths, in Persia and
Phoenicia. He appointed Constantius, his friend, a priest of Antioch,
superior of the apostolic missions in Phoenicia and Arabia. The letters
of Constantius are added to those of St. Chrysostom. The seventeen
letters of our saint to St. Olympias might be styled treatises. He tells
her,[38] "I daily exult and am transported with joy in my heart under my
sufferings, in which I find a hidden treasure: and I beg that you
rejoice on the same account, and that you bless and praise God, by whose
mercy we obtain to such a degree the grace of suffering." He often
enlarges on the great evils and most pernicious consequences of sadness
and dejection of spirit, which he calls[39] "the worst of human evils, a
perpetual domestic rack, a darkness and tempest of the mind, an interior
war, a distemper which consumes the vigor of the soul, and impairs all
her faculties." He shows[40] that sickness is the greatest of trials, a
time not of inaction, but of the greatest merit, the school of all
virtues, and a true martyrdom. He advises her to use physic, and says it
would be a criminal impatience to wish for death to be freed from
sufferings. He laments the fall of Pelagius, whose heresies he abhorred.
He wrote to this lady his excellent treatise, That no one can hurt him
who does not hurt himself. Arsacius dying in 405, many ambitiously
aspired to that dignity, whose very seeking it was sufficient to prove
them unworthy. Atticus, one of this number, a violent enemy to St.
Chrysostom, was preferred by the court, and placed in his chair. The
pope refused to hold communion with Theophilus or any of the abettors of
the persecution of our saint.[41] He and the emperor Honorius sent five
bishops to Constantinople to insist on a council, and that, in the mean
time, St. Chrysostom should be restored to his see, his deposition
having been notoriously unjust.[42] But the deputies were cast into prison
in Thrace, because they refused to communicate with Atticus. The
persecutors saw that, if the council was held, they would be inevitably
condemned and deposed by it, therefore they stuck at nothing to prevent
its meeting. The incursions of the Isaurian plunderers obliged St.
Chrysostom to take shelter in the castle of Arabissus, on{250} Mount
Taurus. He enjoyed a tolerable state of health during the year 406 and
the winter following, though it was extremely cold in those mountains,
so that the Armenians were surprised to see how his thin, weak body was
able to support it. When the Isaurians had quitted the neighborhood, he
returned to Cucusus. But his impious enemies, seeing the whole Christian
world both honor and defend him, resolved to rid the world of him. With
this view they procured an order from the emperor that he should be
removed to Arabissus, and thence to Pytius, a town situated on the
Euxine sea, near Colchis, at the extremity of the empire, on the
frontiers of the Sarmatians, the most barbarous of the Scythians. Two
officers were ordered to convey him thither in a limited number of days,
through very rough roads, with a promise of promotion, if, by hard
usage, he should die in their hands. One of these was not altogether
destitute of humanity, but the other could not bear to hear a mild word
spoken to him. They often travelled amidst scorching heats, from which
his head, that was bald, suffered exceedingly. In the most violent rains
they forced him out of doors, obliging him to travel till the water ran
in streams down his back and bosom. When they arrived at Comana Pontica,
in Cappadocia, he was very sick; yet was hurried five or six miles to
the martyrium or chapel in which lay the relics of the martyr St.
Basiliscus.[43] The saint was lodged in the oratory of the priest. In
the night, that holy martyr appearing to him, said, "Be of good courage,
brother John; to-morrow we shall be together." The confessor was filled
with joy at this news, and begged that he might stay there till eleven
o'clock. This made the guards drag him out the more violently; but when
they had travelled four miles, perceiving him in a dying condition, they
brought him back to the oratory. He there changed all his clothes to his
very shoes, putting on his best attire, which was all white, as if he
meant it for his heavenly nuptials. He was yet fasting, and having
received the holy sacrament, poured forth his last prayer, which he
closed with his usual doxology: Glory be to God for all things. Having
said Amen, and signed himself with the sign of the cross, he sweetly
gave up his soul to God on the feast of the exaltation of the holy
cross, the 14th of September, as appears from the Menaea, in 407, having
been bishop nine years and almost seven months.[44]
His remains were interred by the body of St. Basiliscus, a great
concourse of holy virgins, monks, and persons of all ranks from a great
distance flocking to his funeral. The pope refused all communion with
those who would not allow his name a place in the Dyptics or registers
of Catholic bishops deceased. It was inserted at Constantinople by
Atticus, in 417, and at Alexandria, by St. Cyril, in 419: for Nestorius
tells him that he then venerated the ashes of John against his will.[45]
His body was translated to Constantinople in 434, by St. Proclus, with
the utmost pomp, the emperor Theodosius and his sister Pulcheria
accompanying St. Proclus in the procession, and begging pardon for the
sins of their parents, who had unadvisedly persecuted this servant of
God. The precious remains were laid in the church of the apostles, the
burying-place of the emperors and bishops, on the 27th of January, 438;
on which day he is honored by the Latins: {251} but the Greeks keep his
festival on the 13th of November.[46] His ashes were afterwards carried
to Rome, and rest under an altar which bears his name in the Vatican
church. The saint was low in stature; and his thin, mortified
countenance bespoke the severity of his life. The austerities of his
youth, his cold solitary abode in the mountains, and the fatigues of
continual preaching, had weakened his breast, which occasioned his
frequent distempers. But the hardships of his exile were such as must
have destroyed a person of the most robust constitution. Pope Celestine,
St. Austin, St. Nilus, St. Isidore of Pelusium, and others, call him the
illustrious doctor of churches, whose glory shines on every side, who
fills the earth with the light of his profound sacred learning, and who
instructs by his works the remotest corners of the world, preaching
everywhere, even where his voice could not reach. They style him the
wise interpreter of the secrets of God, the sun of the whole universe,
the lamp of virtue, and the most shining star of the earth. The
incomparable writings of this glorious saint, make his standing and most
authentic eulogium.
In the character which St. Chrysostom has in several places drawn of
divine and fraternal charity and holy zeal, we have a true portraiture
of his holy soul. He excellently shows, from the words of our Lord to
St. Peter,[47] that the primary and essential disposition of a pastor of
souls is a pure and most ardent love of God, whose love for these souls
is so great, that he has delivered his Son to death for them. Jesus
Christ shed his blood to save this flock, which he commits to the care
of St. Peter. Nothing can be stronger or more tender than the manner in
which this saint frequently expresses his charity and solicitude for his
spiritual children.[48] When he touches this topic, his words are all
fire and flame, and seem to breathe the fervor of St. Peter, the zeal of
St. Paul, and the charity of Moses. This favorite of God was not afraid,
for the salvation of his people, to desire to be separated from the
company of the saints, provided this could have been done without
falling from the love of God; though he knew that nothing would more
closely unite him forever to God, than this extraordinary effort of his
love. The apostle of nations desired to be an anathema for his brethren,
and for their salvation;[49] and the prince of the apostles gave the
strongest proof of the ardor of his love for Christ, by the floods of
tears which he shed for his flock. From the same furnace of divine love,
St. Chrysostom drew the like sentiments towards his flock, joined with a
sovereign contempt of all earthly things; another distinguishing
property of charity, which he describes in the following words:[50]
"Those who burn with a spiritual love, consider as nothing all that is
shining or precious on earth. We are not to be surprised if we
understand not this language, who have no experience of this sublime
virtue. For whoever should be inflamed with the fire of the perfect love
of Jesus Christ, would be in such dispositions with regard to the earth,
that he would be indifferent both to its honors and to its disgrace, and
would be no more concerned about its trifles than if he was alone in the
world. He would despise sufferings, scourges, and dungeons, as if they
were endured in another's body, not in his own; and would be as
insensible to the pleasures and enjoyments of the world; as we are to
the bodies of the dead, or as the dead are to their own bodies. He would
be as pure from the stain of any inordinate passions, as gold perfectly
refined is from all rust or spot. And as flies beware of falling into
the flames, and keep at a distance, so irregular passions dare not
approach him."
Footnotes:
1. S. Chrys. ad Vid. jun. t. 1, p. 340.
2. Sozom. l. 8, c. 22.
3. Liban. ep. ad Joan. apud S. Isidor. Pelus. l. 2, ep. 42.
4. L. 3, de Sacerd. c. 14, p. 390.
5. L. 3, de Sacerd. c. 14.
6. Hom. 72 (ol. 73) and 69 (ol. 69,) in Matt. Hom. 14, in 1 Tim. t. 11,
pp. 628, 630, {}3, contra vitup. vita Mon. c. 14.
7. Lib. de Compunct. p. {1}32.
8. Lib. 1, de Compunct. &c.
9. Flavian I. was a native of Antioch, of honorable extraction, and
possessed of a plentiful estate, which he employed in the service of
the church and relief of the poor. He was remarkably grave and
serious, and began early to subdue his flesh by austerities and
abstinence, in which he remitted nothing even in his old age. Thus
was his heart prepared to receive and cherish the seeds of divine
grace, the daily increase of which rendered him so conspicuous in
the world, and of such advantage to the church. The Arians being at
that time masters of the church of Antioch, Flavian and his
associate Diodorus, afterwards bishop of Tarsus, equally
distinguished by their birth, fortune, learning, and virtue, were
the great supports of the flock St. Eustathius had been forced to
abandon. In 348, they undertook the defence of the Catholic faith
against Leontius, the Arian bishop, who made use of all his craft
and authority to establish Arianism to that city; one of whose chief
expedients was to promote none to holy orders but Arians. The
scarcity of Catholic pastors, on this account called for all their
zeal and charity in behalf of the abandoned flock. The Arians being
in possession of the churches to the city, these two zealous laymen
assembled them without the walls, at the tombs of the martyrs, for
the exercise of religious duties. They introduced among them the
manner of singing psalms alternately, and of concluding each psalm
with _Glory be to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; as it was,_ &c.,
which pious custom was soon after spread over all the eastern and
western churches. Theodoret (l. 2, c. 19) says, that Flavian and
Diodorus were the first who directed the psalms to be sung in this
manner by two choirs: though Socrates (l. 6, c. 8) attributes its
institution to St. Ignatius the martyr: who having, as he there
relates, heard angels in a vision singing the divine praises
alternately, instituted that manner of singing in the church of
Antioch; but this might have been disused. Pliny's famous letter to
Trajan shows, that singing was then in use among the Christians In
Bithynia; and it appears from Philo, that the Therapeuts did the
same before that time. Leontius stood so much in awe of Flavian and
Diodorus while they were only laymen, that in compliance with their
demands he deposed 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 assembled at Constantinople; but dying
in that capital, Flavian was chosen to succeed him. His life was a
perfect copy of the eminent episcopal virtues, and especially of the
meekness, the candor, and affability of his worthy predecessor.
Unhappily the schism, which for a long time had divided the church
of Antioch, was not yet extinguished. The occasion was this: after
the death of St. Eustathius, they could not agree in the choice of
his successor; those who were most attached to this holy prelate,
with St. Athanasius and the West, followed Paulinus: the
Apollinarists declared for Vitalis: and the greatest body of the
orthodox of Antioch, with Flavian, Diodorus, and all the East,
adhered to St. Meletius, who, as we have seen already, was succeeded
by Flavian. Paulinus, bishop of that part of the Catholics called
Eustathians, from their attachment to that prelate, though long
since dead, still disputed that see with Flavian; but dying in 383,
the schism of Antioch must have ended, had not his abettors kept
open the breach by choosing Evagrius in his room; though it does not
appear that he had one bishop in communion with him, Egypt and the
West being now neuter, and the East all holding communion with
Flavian. Evagrius dying in 395, the Eustathians, though now without
a pastor, still continued their separate meetings, and kept up the
schism several years longer. St. Chrysostom being raised to the see
of Constantinople, in 398, labored hourly to abolish this fatal
schism, which was brought about soon after by commissioners
constituted for this purpose by the West, Egypt, and all the other
parties concerned, and the Eustathians received Flavian as their
bishop. In the year 404, when St. Chrysostom was banished, Flavian
testified his indignation against so unjust a proceeding, and wrote
upon that subject to the clergy of Constantinople. But he did not
live to be witness of all the sufferings his dear friend was to meet
with, dying about three years before him, in 404. The general
council of Chalcedon calls him blessed, (Conc. t. 4, p. 840,) and
Theodoret (l. 5, c. 232) gives him the titles of the great, the
admirable saint. St. Chrysostom is lavish in his praises of him.
Flavian's sermons and other writings are all lost except his
discourse to Theodosius, preserved by St. Chrysostom. No church or
Martyrology, whether among the Greeks or Latins, ever placed Falvius
I. of Antioch in the catalogue of the saints. Whence Chatelain, in
his notes, speaking of St. Meletius, February the 12th, p. 630; and
on St. Flavian of Constantinople, February the 17th, p. 685,
expresses his surprise at the boldness of Baillet and some others,
who, without regard to the decrees of Urban VIII., presumed to do it
of their own private authority, and without any reason, have
assigned for his feast the 21st of February. Chatelain, in his
additions to his Universal Martyrology, p. 711, names him with the
epithet of venerable only, on the 26th of September. He is only
spoken of here, to answer our design of giving in the notes some
account of the most eminent fathers of the church who have never
been ranked among the saints. On St. Flavian II. of Antioch,
banished by the emperor Anastasius with St. Elias of Jerusalem, for
their zeal in defending the council of Chalcedon against the
Eutychians, see July {} 4th, on which these two confessors are
commemorated in the Roman Martyrology.
10. St. Chrys. Hom. 21, ad Pap. Antioch. seu de Statius. t. 2.
11. Sozom. l. 8, c. 2, &c.
12. Socrat. c. 2. See Stilting, Sec.35, p. 511.
13. St. Chrys. l. Quod regulares foeminae, t. 1, p. 250.
14. Stilting, Sec.41, p. 526.
15. Phot. Cod. 59. Socr. l. 6, c. 21. Stilting, Sec.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, Sec.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, Sec.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, Sec.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, Sec.54, 55, 5{}, p. 567.
31. T. 3, p. 415.
32. Socrates and Sozomen say that he preached another sermon against the
empress, beginning with these words: Herodias is again became
furious. But Montfaucon refutes this slander, trumped up by his
enemies. The sermon extant under that title is a manifest forgery,
t. {}n spuriis, p. 1. See Montfaucon, and Stilting, Sec.63, p. 503.
33. {}p t. 3, p. 515. Pallad. Dial. Stilting, Sec.58, p. 578.
34. S. Nilus, l. 2, ep. 265.
35. L. 3, ep. 279.
36. T. 3, p. 525.
37. Ep. 8.
38. Ep. 8, p. 589.
39. Ibid. 3, p. 552.
40. Ibid. 4, p. 570.
41. Pallad. Theodoret, l. 5, c. 34.
42. Pallad. Sozom. l. 8. c. 28.
43. The passage of Palladius, in which St. Basiliscus is called bishop
of Comana, is evidently falsified by the mistake of copiers, as
Stilting demonstrates; who shows this Basiliscus to have suffered
not at Nicomedia, but near Comana, in the country where his relics
remained; the same that is honored on the 2d of March. It is without
grounds that Tillemont, Le Quien, &c., imagine there were two
martyrs of the same name, the one a soldier, who suffered at Comana
under Galerius Maximian; the other, bishop of that city. T. 5, in S.
Basilisc. note 4. See Stilting, Sec.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, Sec.88, p. 685.
46. Jos. Assemani. Comm. In Calend. Univ. t. 6. p. 105, and Stilting.
47. Joan. xxi. 17. St. Chrys. l. 2, de Sacred. c. 1.
48. Hom. 3 & 44, in Act. et alibi saepe.
49. See St. Chrys. hom. 16, in Rom.
50. Hom. 52, in Acta.
{252}