IN the Benedictine edition of his works given by Dom Montfaucon, we have
in the first tome his two Exhortations to Theodorus; three books against
the Adversaries of a Monastic Life; the Comparison between a King and a
Monk; two books on Compunction; three books to Stagirius the monk, on
Tribulation and Providence; against those Clergymen who harbor Women
under their roof to serve them; another treatise to prove that
Deaconesses, or other Regular Women, ought not to live under the same
roof with men; On Virginity; To a Young Widow; On the Priesthood; and a
considerable number of scattered homilies. Theodorus, after renouncing
the advantages which high birth, a plentiful estate, a polite education,
and an uncommon stock of learning offered him in the world, and having
solemnly consecrated himself to God in a monastic state, violated his
sacred engagement, returned into the world, took upon him the
administration of his estate, fell in love with a beautiful young woman
named Hermione, and desired to marry her. St. Chrysostom, who had
formerly been his school-fellow, under Libanius, and been afterwards
instrumental in inducing him to forsake the world, and some time his
companion in a religious state, grievously lamented his unhappy fall;
and by two most tender and pathetic exhortations to repentance, gained
him again to God. Every word is dictated by the most ardent zeal and
charity, and powerfully insinuates itself into the heart by the charm of
an unparalleled sweetness, which gives to the strength of the most
persuasive eloquence an irresistible force. Nothing of the kind extant
is more beautiful, or more tender, than these two pieces, especially the
former. The saint, in the beginning, borrows the most moving parts of
the lamentations of Jeremy, showing that he had far more reason to
abandon himself to bitter grief than that prophet; for he mourned not
for a material temple and city with the holy ark and the tables of the
law, but for an immortal soul, far more precious than the whole material
world. And if one soul which observes the divine law is greater and
better than ten thousand which transgress it, what reason had he to
deplore the loss of one which had been sanctified, and the holy living
temple of God, and shone with the grace of the Holy Ghost: one in which
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost had dwelt; but was stripped of its glory
and fence, robbed of its beauty, enslaved by the devil, and fettered
with his bolts and chains. Therefore the saint invites all creatures to
mourn with him, and declares he will receive no comfort, nor listen to
those who offer him any, crying out with the prophet: _Depart from me: I
will weep bitterly: offer not to comfort me_. Isa. xxii. 4. His grief,
he says, was just, because he wept for a soul that was fallen from
heaven to hell, from grace into sin: it was reasonable, because by tears
she might yet be recovered; and he protests that he would never
interrupt them, till he should learn that she was risen again. To
fortify his unhappy friend against the temptation of despair, he shows
by the promises, examples, and parables of the Old and New Testaments,
that no one can doubt of the power or goodness of God, who is most ready
to pardon every sinner that sues for mercy. Observing that hell was not
created for man, but heaven, he conjures him not to defeat the design of
God in his creation, and destroy the work of his mercy by persevering in
sin. The difficulties which seemed to stand in his way, and dispirited
him, the saint shows would be all removed, and would even vanish of
themselves, if he undertook the work with courage and resolution: this
makes the conversion of a soul easy. He terrifies him by moving
reflections on death, and the divine judgments, by a dreadful
portraiture which he draws of the fire of hell, which resembles not our
fire, but burns souls, and is eternal; lastly, by the loss of heaven, on
the joys of which kingdom he speaks at large; on its immortality, the
company of the angels, the joy, liberty, beauty, and glory of the
blessed, adding, that such is this felicity, that in its loss consists
the most dreadful of all the torments of the damned. Penance averts
these evils, and restores to a soul all the titles and advantages which
she had forfeited by her fall: and its main difficulty and labor are
vanquished by a firm resolution, and serious beginning of the work. This
weakens and throws down the enemy: if he be thoroughly vanquished in
that part where he was the strongest, the soul will pursue, with ease
and cheerfulness, the delightful and beautiful course of virtue upon
which she has entered. He conjures Theodorus, by all that is dear, to
have compassion on himself; also to have pity on his mourning friends,
and not by grief send them to their graves: he exhorts him resolutely to
break his bonds at once, not to temporize only with his enemy, or
pretend to rise by degrees; and he entreats him to exert his whole
strength in laboring to {253} be of the happy number of those who, from
being the last, are raised by their fervor to the first rank in the
kingdom of God. To encourage him by examples, he mentions a young
nobleman of Phoenicia, the son of one Urbanus, who, having embraced with
fervor the monastic state, insensibly fell into lukewarmness, and at
length returned into the world, where he enjoyed large possessions,
lived in pomp, and abandoned himself to the pursuit of vanity and
pleasures; till, opening his eyes upon the remonstrances of certain
pious friends, he distributed his whole estate among the poor, and spent
the rest of his life in the desert with extraordinary fervor. Another
ascetic, falling by degrees, in an advanced age, committed the crime of
fornication; but immediately rising, attained to an eminent degree of
sanctity, and was honored with the gift of miracles. The disciple of St.
John, who had been a captain of a troop of robbers and murderers, became
an illustrious penitent. In like manner, our saint exhorts and conjures
this sinner to rise without delay, before he was overtaken by the divine
judgments, and to confess his sins with compunction of heart, abundant
bitter tears, and a perfect change of life, laboring to efface his
crimes by good works, to the least of which Christ has promised a
reward.
St. Chrysostom begins his second Exhortation to Theodorus, which is much
shorter than the first, by expressing his grief as follows: (t. 1, p.
35:) "If tears and groans could have been conveyed by letters, this
would have been filled. I grieve not that you have taken upon you the
administration of your affairs; but that you have trampled under your
feet the sacred engagement you had made of yourself to Christ. For this
I suffer excessive trouble and pain; for this I mourn; for this I am
seized with fear and trembling, having before my eyes the severe
damnation which so treacherous and base a perfidiousness deserves." He
tells him yet "that the case is not desperate for a person to have been
wounded, but for him to neglect the cure of his wounds. A merchant after
shipwreck labors to repair his losses; many wrestlers, after a fall,
have risen and fought so courageously as to have been crowned; and
soldiers, after a defeat, have rallied and conquered. You allege," says
he, "that marriage is lawful. This I readily acknowledge; but it is not
now in your power to embrace that state: for it is certain that one who,
by a solemn engagement, has given himself to God as his heavenly spouse,
if he violates this contract, he commits an adultery, though he should a
thousand times call it marriage. Nay, he is guilty of a crime so much
the more enormous as the majesty of God surpasses man. Had you been
free, no one would charge you with desertion; but since you are
contracted to so great a king, you are not at your own disposal." St.
Chrysostom pathetically shows him the danger, baseness, and crime of
deferring his repentance, sets before him hell, the emptiness of the
world, the uneasiness and troubles which usually attend a married life,
and the sweetness of the yoke of Christ. He closes this pressing
exhortation by mentioning the tears and prayers of his friends, which
they would never interrupt, till they had the comfort of seeing him
raised from his fall. St. Chrysostom wrote these two exhortations about
the year 369, which was the second that he spent in his mother's house
at Antioch when he led there an ascetic life. The fruit of his zeal and
charity was the conversion of Theodorus, who broke his engagements with
the world, and returned to his solitude. In 381 he was made bishop of
Mopsuestia. In opposing the Apollinarist heresy, he had the misfortune
to lay the seeds of Nestorianism in a book which he composed on the
Incarnation, and other writings. He became a declared protector of
Julian the Pelagian, when he took refuge in the East; wrote an express
treatise against original sin; and maintained the Pelagian errors in a
multitude of other works, which were all condemned after his death,
though only fragments of them have reached us, preserved chiefly in
Facundus, Photius, and several councils. He died in 428, before the
solemn condemnation of his errors, and in the communion of the Catholic
church. See Tillemont, t. 12.
During St. Chrysostom's retreat in the mountains, two devout servants of
God desired of him certain instructions on the means of attaining to the
virtue of compunction. Demetrius, the first of these, though he was
arrived at a high degree of perfection in an ascetic life, always ranked
himself among those who crawl on the earth, and said often to St.
Chrysostom, kissing his hand, and watering it with tears, "Assist me to
soften the hardness of my heart." St. Chrysostom addressed to him his
first book on Compunction, in which he tells him that he was not
unacquainted with this grace, of which he had a pledge in the
earnestness of his desire to obtain it, his love of retirement, his
watching whole nights, and his abundant tears, even those with which,
squeezing him by the hand, he lead begged the succor of his advice and
prayers, in order to soften his dry, stony heart into compunction. With
the utmost confusion for his own want of this virtue, he yielded to his
request, begging in return his earnest prayers for the conversion of his
own soul. Treating first on the necessities and motives of compunction,
he takes notice that Christ pronounces those blessed who mourn, and says
we ought never to cease weeping for our own sins, and those of the whole
world, which deserves and calls for our tears so much the more loudly,
as it is insensible of its own miseries. We should never cease weeping,
if we considered how much sin reigns among men. The saint considers the
sin of rash judgment as a general vice among men, from which he thinks
scarce any one will be found to have lived always free. He {254} says
the same of anger; then of detraction; and considering how universally
these crimes prevail among men, cries out: "What hopes of salvation
remain for the generality of mankind, who commit, without reflection,
some or other of these crimes, one of which is enough to damn a soul?"
He mentions also, as general sins, swearing, evil words, vain-glory, not
giving alms, want of confidence in divine providence, and of resignation
to his will, covetousness, and sloth in the practice of virtue. He
complains that whereas the narrow path only leads to heaven, almost all
men throw themselves into the broad way, walking with the multitude in
their employs and actions, seeking their pleasure, interest, or
convenience, not what is safest for their souls. Here what motives for
our tears! A life of mortification and penance he prescribes, as an
essential condition for maintaining a spirit of compunction; saying that
water and fire are not more contrary to each other, than a life of
softness and delights is to compunction; pleasure being the mother of
dissolute laughter and madness. A love of pleasure renders the soul
heavy and altogether earthly; but compunction gives her wings, by which
she raises herself above all created things. We see worldly men mourn
for the loss of friends and other temporal calamities. And are not we
excited to weep for our spiritual miseries? We can never cease if we
have always before our eyes our sins, our distance from heaven, the
pains of hell, God's judgments, and our danger of losing Him, which is
the most dreadful of all the torments of the damned.
In his second book On Compunction, which is addressed to Stelechius, he
expresses his surprise that he should desire instructions on compunction
of one so cold in the divine service as he was; but only one whose
breast is inflamed with divine love, and whose words are more
penetrating than fire, can speak of that virtue. He says that
compunction requires in the first place, solitude, not so much that of
the desert, as that which is interior, or of the mind. For seeing that a
multitude of objects disturbs the sight, the soul must restrain all the
senses, remain serene, and without tumult or noise within herself,
always intent on God, employed in his love, deaf to corporeal objects.
As men placed on a high mountain hear nothing of the noise of a city
situated below them, only a confused stir which they no way heed; so a
Christian soul, raised on the mountain of true wisdom, regards not the
hurry of the world; and though she is not destitute of senses, is not
molested by them, and applies herself and her whole attention to
heavenly things. Thus St. Paul was crucified and insensible to the
world, raised as far above its objects as living men differ from
carcasses. Not only St. Paul, amid a multiplicity of affairs, but also
David, living in the noise of a great city and court, enjoyed solitude
of mind, and the grace of perfect compunction, and poured forth tears
night and day, proceeding from an ardent love and desire of God and his
heavenly kingdom, the consideration of the divine judgments, and the
remembrance of his own sins. Persons that are lukewarm and slothful,
think of what they do or have done in penance to cancel their debts; but
David nourished perpetually in his breast a spirit of compunction, by
never thinking on the penance he had already done, but only on his debts
and miseries, and on what he had to do in order to blot out or deliver
himself from them. St. Chrysostom begs his friend's prayers that he
might be stirred up by the divine grace to weep perpetually under the
load of his spiritual evils, so as to escape everlasting torments.
The saint's three books, On Providence, are an exhortation to comfort,
patience, and resignation, addressed to Stagirius, a monk possessed by
an evil spirit. This Stagirius was a young nobleman, who had exasperated
his father by embracing a monastic state: but some time after fell into
lukewarmness, and was cruelly possessed by an evil spirit, and seized
with a dreadful melancholy, from which those who had received a power of
commanding evil spirits were not able to deliver him. St. Chrysostom
wrote these books soon after he was ordained deacon in 380. In the
first, he shows that all things are governed by divine providence, by
which even afflictions are always sent and directed for the good of the
elect. For any one to doubt of this is to turn infidel: and if we
believe it, what can we fear whatever tribulations befall us, and to
whatever height their waves ascend? Though the conduct of divine
providence, with regard to the just, be not uniform, it sends to none
any tribulations which are not for their good; when they are most heavy,
they are designed by God to prepare men for the greatest crowns.
Moreover, God is absolute master to dispose of us, as a potter of his
clay. What then have we to say? or how dare we presume to penetrate into
his holy counsels? The promise of God can never fail: this gives us an
absolute security of the highest advantages, mercy, and eternal glory,
which are designed us in our afflictions. St. Chrysostom represents to
Stagirius that his trials had cured his former vanity, anger, and sloth,
and it was owing to them that he now spent nights and days in fasting,
prayer, and reading. In the second book, he presses Stagirius
strenuously to reject all melancholy and gloomy thoughts, and not to be
uneasy either about his cure, or the grief his situation was likely to
give his father, but leaving the issue to God, with perfect resignation
to ask of him this mercy, resting in the entire confidence that whatever
God ordained would turn to his greatest advantage. In the third book, he
mentions to Stagirius several of his acquaintance, whose sufferings,
both in mind and body, were more grievous than those with which he was
afflicted. He bids him also pay a visit to the hospitals and prisons;
for he would there see that his cross was light in comparison of what
many others endured. {255} He tells him that sin ought to be to him the
only subject of grief; and that he ought to rejoice in sufferings as the
means by which his sins were to be expiated. A firm confidence in God, a
constant attention to his presence, and perpetual prayer, he calls the
strong ramparts against sadness.
When the Arian emperor Valens, in 375, commanded the monks to be turned
out of their deserts, and enrolled in the troops, and several Catholics
reviled them as bigots and madmen, St. Chrysostom took up his pen to
justify them, by three books, entitled, Against the Impugners of a
Monastic State. T. 1, p. 44, he expresses his surprise that any
Christians could speak ill of a state which consists in the most perfect
means of attaining to true virtue, and says they hurt themselves, not
the monks, whose merit they increase; as Nero's persecution of St. Paul,
because he had converted one of the tyrant's concubines, enhanced the
apostle's glory. A more dreadful judgment is reserved to these enemies
of the love of Christ. They said, they drew no one from his faith. The
saint retorts: What will faith avail without innocence and virtue? They
alleged that a Christian may be saved without retiring into the desert.
He answers: Would to God men lived so in the world that monasteries were
of no advantage! but seeing all disorders prevail in it, who can blame
those who seek to shelter themselves from the storm? He elegantly shows
that the number of those that are saved in the world is exceeding small,
and that the gate of life is narrow. The multitude perished in Noah's
flood, and only eight escaped in the ark. How foolish would it have been
to rely carelessly on safety in such danger! Yet here the case is far
more dreadful, everlasting fire being the portion of those that are
lost. Yet in the world how few resist the torrent, and are not carried
down with the crowd, sliding into anger, detraction, rash judgment,
covetousness, or some other sin. Almost all, as if it were by common
conspiracy, throw themselves into the gulf, where the multitude of
companions will be no comfort. Is it not, then, a part of wisdom to fly
from these dangers, in order to secure our only affair in the best
manner possible?
Whereas parents sometimes opposed the vocation of their children to a
monastic state, in his second book he addresses himself to a Pagan
father, who grieved to see his son and heir engaged in that profession.
He tells him he has the greatest reason to rejoice; proving from
Socrates, and other heathen philosophers, that his son is more happy in
voluntary poverty and contempt of the world, than he could have been in
the possession of empires: that he is richer than his father, whom the
loss of one bag of his treasures would afflict, whereas the monk, who
possessed only a single cloak, could see without concern even that
stolen, and would even rejoice though condemned to banishment or death.
He is greater than emperors, more happy than the world, out of the reach
of its malice or evil, whom no one could hurt if he desired it. A father
who loves his son ought more to rejoice at his so great happiness than
if he had seen him a thousand times king of the whole earth, and his
life and kingdom secured to him for ten thousand years. What treasures
would not have been well employed to purchase for him such a soul as his
was rendered by virtue, could this blessing have been procured for
money? He displays the falsehood of worldly pleasure; the inconstancy,
anxiety, trouble, grief, and bitterness of all its enjoyments, and says
that no king can give so sensible a joy as the very sight of a virtuous
man inspires. As he speaks to a Pagan, he makes a comparison between
Plato and Dionysius the tyrant; then mentions an acquaintance of his
own. This was a holy monk, whom his Pagan father, who was a rich
nobleman, incensed at his choice of that state, disinherited; but was at
length so overcome by the virtue of this son, that he preferred him to
all his other children, who were accomplished noblemen in the world,
often saying that none of them was worthy to be his slave; and he
honored and respected him as if he had been his own father. In the third
book, St. Chrysostom directs his discourse to a Christian father, whom
he threatens with the judgment of Hell, if he withdrew his children from
this state of perfection, in which they would have become suns in
heaven, whereas, if they were saved in the world, their glory would
probably be only that of stars. He inveighs against parents, who, by
their discourse and example, instil into their children a spirit of
vanity, and sow in their tender minds the seeds of covetousness, and all
those sins which overrun the world. He compares monks to angels, in
their uninterrupted joy and attention to God; and observes that men in
the world are bound to observe the same divine law with the monks, but
cannot so easily acquit themselves of this obligation, as he that is
hampered with cords cannot run so well as he that is loose and at
liberty. He exhorts parents to breed up their children for some years in
monasteries, and to omit nothing in forming them to perfect virtue. In
his elegant short treatise, entitled A Comparison between a King and a
Monk, t. 1, p. 116, he beautifully shows that a pious monk is
incomparably more honorable, more glorious, and more happy than the
greatest monarch, by enjoying the favor of heaven, and possessing God;
by the empire over himself and his own passions, by which he is king in
his own breast, exercising the most glorious command; by the sweetness
and riches of divine grace; by the kingdom of God established in his
soul; by prayer, by which all things are in his power; by his universal
benevolence and beneficence to others, procuring to every one all
spiritual advantages as far as lies in him; by the comfort which he
finds in death which is terrible {256} to kings, but by which he is
translated to an immortal crown, &c. This book is much esteemed by
Montfaucon and the devout Blosius.
St. Chrysostom, in his treatise on Virginity, t. 1, p. 268, says this
virtue is a privilege peculiar to the true church, not to be found, at
least pure, among heretics: he proves against the Manichees, that
marriage is good: yet says that virginity as far excels it as angels
men, but that all its excellency is derived from the consecration of a
soul to God, and her attention to please him, without which this state
avails nothing.
After he was ordained deacon at Antioch, he composed his book To a Young
Widow, (t. 1, p. 337,) a lady who had lost her husband Tarasius,
candidate for the prefectship of the city. He draws motives to comfort
her from the spiritual advantages of holy widowhood, and the happiness
to which her husband was called. His second book To the Widow, (t. 1, p.
349,) is a dissuasive from second marriages, when they are contracted
upon worldly motives.
His six incomparable books on the Priesthood, he composed to excuse
himself to his friend Basil, who complained that he had been betrayed by
him into the episcopal charge; for Chrysostom persuaded him they had
time yet to conceal themselves; yet secretly absconded himself and left
the other to be chosen. Basil, when he met him afterwards, was not able
to speak for some time but by a flood of tears; and at length broke
through them only to give vent to his grief in bitter complaints against
the treachery of his friend. This work is wrote in a dialogue between
the two friends. St. Chrysostom, in the first book, alleges (t. 1, p.
362) that he could not deprive the church of a pastor so well qualified
to serve it as Basil was; nor undertake himself a charge for which he
had not the essential talents, and in which he should involve others and
himself in ruin. In the second book he justifies his own action in not
hindering the promotion of his friend to the episcopacy, by observing
that to undertake the charge of souls is the greatest proof we can give
of our love for Christ, which He declared by putting the question thrice
to St. Peter whether he loved him, before he committed to him the care
of his flock. John xxi. 15. If we think it an argument of our love for a
friend to take care of his servants or cattle, much more will God
recompense faithful pastors, who feed those dear souls to save which God
died. The pastoral charge is certainly the first of all others in merit
and dignity. The saint therefore thinks he should have prevaricated if
he had deprived the church of a minister capable of serving it. But in
order to justify his own flight, he adds that the dangers and
difficulties of this state are proportioned to its pre-eminence and
advantages. For what can be more difficult and dangerous than the charge
of immortal souls, and of applying to them remedies, which, to take
effect, depend upon their own co-operation and consent, and must be
always proportioned to their dispositions and character, which must be
sounded, as well as to their wounds? Remissness leaves a wound half
cured: and a suitable penance often exasperates and makes it wider.
Herein the greatest sagacity and prudence are necessary: Nor is the
difficulty less in bringing back to the church members which are
separated from it. Basil replied to this discourse of St. Chrysostom:
"You then love not Christ, who fly from the charge of souls." St.
Chrysostom answered, that he loved him, and fled from this charge
because he loved him, fearing to offend him by taking upon him such an
office, for which he was every way unqualified. Basil retorts with
warmth, that his treachery towards himself was unpardonable, because he
was acquainted with his friend's incapacity. Chrysostom answers, that he
should never have betrayed him into that dignity, if he had not known
his charity and other qualifications. In order to show that he had
reason to shun that charge, he in his third book sets forth the
excellence and obligations of that dignity; for it is not earthly, but
altogether heavenly, and its ministry would do honor to the angels; and
a pastor ought to look upon himself as placed among the heavenly
spirits, and under an obligation of being no less pure and holy. This he
shows, first, from the tremendous sacrifice of the altar, which requires
in the offerer a purity truly becoming heaven, and even far surpassing
the sanctity which was required in so terrible a manner of priests in
the Old Law, a mere shadow of ours. "For," says he, "when you behold the
Lord himself lying the victim on the altar, and offered, and the priest
attending, and praying over the sacrifice, purpled with his precious
blood, do you seem to remain among men and on earth, or not rather to be
translated into heaven? O wonderful prodigy! O excess of the divine
mercy! He who is seated above at the right hand of the Father, is in
that hour held by all in their hands, and gives himself to be touched
and received. Figure to yourself Elias before the altar, praying alone,
the multitude standing around him in silence, and trembling, and the
fire falling from heaven and consuming the sacrifice. What is now done
is far more extraordinary, more awful, and more astonishing. The priest
is here standing, and calls down from heaven, not fire, but the Holy
Ghost: he prays a long time, not that a flame may be kindled, but that
grace may touch the sacrifice, and that the hearts of all who partake of
it may be purged by the same." c. 5, p. 385. (See the learned prelate
Giacomelli's Note on St. Chrysostom's doctrine on the real presence of
the body of Christ in the Eucharist, and on the sacrifice of the altar,
in hunc librum, c. 4, p. 340.) Secondly, he mentions the eminent
prerogative of binding and loosing, not bodies, but souls, with which
the priesthood of the New Law is {257} honored: a power reaching the
heavens, where God confirms the sentence pronounced by priests below: a
power never given to angels, yet granted to men. John xx. 22. All power
was given by the Father to the Son, who again transferred it on men. It
is esteemed a great authority if an emperor confers on a private person
power to imprison others or to set them at liberty. How great then is
the authority with which God honors the priesthood. The priests of the
Old Law declared lepers healed; those of the New really cleanse and heal
our souls. They are our spiritual parents, by whom we are reborn to
eternal life; they regenerate us by baptism, again remit our sins by
extreme unction, (James v. 14,) and by their prayers appease God whom we
have offended. From all which he infers that it is arrogance and
presumption to seek such a dignity, which made St. Paul himself tremble
(1 Cor. xi. 3, &c.) If the people in a mad phrensy should make an
ignorant cobble general of their army, every one would commend such a
wretch if he fled and hid himself that he might not be instrumental in
his own and his country's ruin. "If any one," says he, "should appoint
me pilot, and order me to steer a large vessel in the dangerous 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
principal temptations to which a pastor of souls is himself exposed, and
the storms by which he is assailed; as vain-glory, for instance, a more
dreadful monster than the sirens of the poets, which passengers, by
standing on their guard, could sail by and escape. "This rock," says he,
"is so troublesome to me even now, when no necessity drives me upon it,
that I do not quite escape being hurt by it. But if any one had placed
me on so high a pinnacle, it would have been as if, having tied my hands
behind my back, he had exposed me to wild beasts to be torn in pieces."
He adds the danger of human respect, fear of the great ones, contempt or
neglect of the poor; observing that none can encounter such dangers, but
such as are perfect in virtue, disinterested, watchful over themselves,
inured to mortification by great abstinence, resting on hard beds, and
assiduous labor: lastly, what is most rare, dead to themselves by
meekness, sweetness, and charity, which no injuries or reproaches, no
ingratitude, no perverseness, or malice, can ever weary or overcome: for
a perfect victory over anger is a most essential part of the character
of a good pastor, without which all his virtues will be tarnished, and
he will reap no fruit of his labors. He makes this dreadful remark, that
within the circle of his own acquaintance he had known many who in
solitude led lives pleasing to God, but being advanced to the
priesthood, lost both themselves and others. If no Christian can call to
mind, without trembling, the dreadful account which he is to give at the
tribunal of Christ for his own sins, how must he tremble at this
thought, who sees himself charged with the sins and souls of others?
Heb. xiii. 17. In the fourth book he proves that one unfit for the
pastoral charge is not excused because it is imposed on him by others,
as one unacquainted with the rules of architecture can by no means
undertake to build, nor one to practise medicine who is a stranger to
that profession. He speaks of the crime of those who choose unworthy
pastors, and of the learning necessary for this charge, especially in
applying suitable remedies to every spiritual disorder, in confuting
Pagans, Jews, and heretics, and in instructing the faithful. A talent
for preaching is an indispensable qualification. In the fifth book he
prescribes the manner in which a preacher ought to announce the word of
God, with what indefatigable pains, and with what purity of intention,
desiring only to please God and plant his love in all hearts, and
despising the applause of men, insensible both to their praise and
censures. His discourse must be set off by piety, natural eloquence,
plain simplicity, and dignity, that all may hear the divine word
willingly, and with respect and pleasure, so as to wish at the end of
the sermon that it were longer. The extreme danger of vain-glory so much
alarmed him, that in the close of this book he again speaks against that
vice, and says, that he who entirely subdued this furious wild beast,
and cut off its numberless heads, enjoys a great interior calm, with
infinite spiritual advantages; and that every one is bound to stand
always armed against its assaults. In the sixth book, he shows that
priests will be punished for the sins of others. It is no excuse for a
watchman to say, _I heard not the trumpet: I saw not the enemy
approach_, (Ezech. xxxiii. 3,) for he is appointed sentinel to watch and
announce the danger to others. If a single soul perishes through his
neglect, this will condemn him at the last day. In how great
watchfulness must he live not to be infected with the contagion of the
world, with which he is obliged to converse! With what zeal, vigilance,
and fervor is he bound to acquit himself of all his duties and
functions! For priests are ambassadors of heaven, sent not to one city,
but to the whole earth, with a strict charge never to cease scattering
the divine seed, preaching and exhorting with so great diligence, that
no secret sinner may be able to escape them. They are moreover appointed
by God mediators to intercede with him for the sins both of the living
and the dead; to offer the tremendous sacrifice, and hold the common
Lord of all things in their hands. With what purity, with what sanctity
ought he to be adorned, who exercises so sublime a function? In it
angels attend the priest, all the choir of heaven joins, and the holy
place near the altar is occupied by legions of blessed spirits, in honor
of Him who is laid upon it. This he confirms by a vision of a holy old
man, who saw a multitude of bright spirits surrounding the altar,
profoundly bowing their heads. "Another," says the {258} saint, "assured
me, that he had both seen himself, and heard from others, that the souls
of those who receive the holy mysteries before death, depart out of
their bodies attended by angels as troops of heavenly guards." Lastly,
he shows that sins are more easily committed, and are more grievous, in
the episcopal ministry than in holy retirement. Basil, at this
discourse, almost swooned away in the excess of grief and fear with
which he was seized, till after some time, recovering himself, he said
in the bitterness of his heart, What has the church of God committed to
have deserved so dreadful a calamity, that the pastoral charge should be
intrusted to the most unworthy of men? For he had before his eyes on one
side the glory, the sanctity, the spiritual beauty and wisdom of the
sacred spouse of Christ; and on the other, the sins and miseries of his
own soul; and this consideration drew from him a flood of tears.
Chrysostom said, that as to himself, upon the first news of his danger
he had swooned away, and only returned to himself to vent his grief by
abundance of tears; in which agony he passed all that time. He adds: "I
will now discover to you the deplorable state of my mind at that time,
that out of mere compassion you may forgive me what I have done; and I
wish I could show you my wretched heart itself.--But all my alarms are
now converted into joy." Basil replied: "But I am now plunged in bitter
sorrow and tears: and what protection can I seek? If you have still any
bowels of tenderness and compassion for my soul, any consolation in
Christ, I conjure you never to forsake me in the dangers in which you
have engaged me." St. Chrysostom answered, smiling, "In what can I serve
you in your exalted station? However, when a respite from your functions
affords you any leisure, I will wait upon you, and will never be wanting
in any thing in my power." Basil at this arose weeping. St. John,
embracing him and kissing his head, said, "Be of good courage, trusting
in Christ, who has called you to his holy ministry."
In the first tome of his works, p. 228, we have a book which he composed
when he was first made bishop of Constantinople, in 397, Against those
who have sub-introduced Women; that is, against such of the clergy as
kept deaconesses, or spiritual sisters, under the same roof to take care
of their household. Saint Chrysostom condemns this custom as criminal in
itself, both because dangerous, and because scandalous to others.
Whatever pretext such persons allege of imaginary necessities, and of
their security and precautions against the danger, he shows that there
is always danger of their finding a lurking pleasure in such company.
Though they perceive not any secret passion, he will not believe them
exempt; for men are often the greatest strangers to their own hearts. He
urges that this conduct is at least criminal, because it is an occasion
and incentive of evil. Job, so holy a man, so dead to himself by long
habits of mortification, durst not cast his eyes upon a virgin. St.
Paul, not content with his continual fatigues and sufferings, added
voluntary chastisements of his flesh to subdue it. What austerities do
anchorets practise to tame their bodies, by perpetual fasts, watching,
and sackcloth! yet never suffer even visits of persons of the other sex.
Ironically inveighing against the presumption of such as had not the
like saving apprehension of danger, he tells them; "I must indeed call
these strong men happy, who have nothing to fear from such a danger, and
I could wish myself to be endowed with equal strength," (t. 1, p. 231.)
But he tells them this is as impossible as for a man to carry fire in
his bosom without being burnt. "You bid me," says he, "believe that
though I see you converse with a virgin, this is a work of piety, not
passion. O wonderful man! this may be said of those who live not with
men, but among stones," (t. 1, p. 235.) Our zealous pastor shows that
the capital point in this warfare is, not to awake our domestic enemy,
but by watchfulness to shun whatever can rouse him: and he adds, that
though a man were invulnerable, he ought not to scandalize the weak, and
by his example, draw them into a like snare. The stronger a person is,
the more easy must it be to him not to give scandal. To the pretext of
necessity, he answers, that this is mere madness, for a clergyman ought
not to be so nice, either in his furniture or table. The saint addressed
a like book to women, under this title: That regular (or religious)
Women ought not to live in the same house with Men, (t. 1, p. 248.)
Besides condemning this abuse and scandal, he zealously inveighs against
the airy, light dress of many ladies, and pathetically invites all
servants of God to mingle floods of tears with his in the bitter anguish
of his soul, for a scandal by which snares are laid for others, souls
murdered, (though undesignedly,) and sin against the divine Majesty
propagated.
St. Chrysostom seems to have been only deacon when he compiled his book
On St. Babylas, against the Gentiles; in which he speaks of the miracles
wrought at his relics, as of facts to which he and his auditors had been
eye-witnesses, (t. 2, p. 530.) Montfaucon refers to the same time his
Synopsis of the Old Testament: in which he places in the canon the
deutero-canonical books of Wisdom, Ecclesiasticus, Esther, Toby, and
Judith: and out of the seven canonical epistles counts only three, viz:
that of St. James, one of St. Peter, and one of St. John, (no others
being received by the Syrians, as appears from Cosmas Indicopleustes,)
t. 6, p. 308.
St Chrysostom was ordained priest by the patriarch Flavian, in 386, and
appointed his ordinary preacher. On this occasion the saint made a
sermon, (t. 1, p. 436,) in which he expresses his dread and surprise at
his promotion, earnestly begs the prayers of the people, {259} and says
he desires to entertain them on the praises of God, but was deterred by
the checks of his conscience, and remorse for his sins: for the royal
prophet, who invites all creatures, even dragons and serpents, to sound
forth the praises of God, passes by sinners as unworthy to be allowed a
place in that sacred choir: they are ignominiously ejected, as a
musician cuts off a string that is not tunable with the rest.
The holy doctor, grieving for the spiritual blindness of many who were
seduced by heresy, and considering their dangers as most grievous, and
their miseries most pressing, preached five most eloquent sermons on the
Incomprehensible Nature of God, against the Anomaeans. He had taken
notice that these heretics, who were very numerous in Syria, resorted
willingly to his sermons with the Catholics, which afforded him an
opportunity of more easily reclaiming them. The Anomaeans were the
followers of Eunomius, who, to the errors of the rankest Arianism, added
a peculiar blasphemy, asserting that both the blessed in heaven, and
also men in this mortal life, not only know God, but also comprehend and
fathom the divine nature as clearly as we know our own, and even as
perfectly as God comprehends himself. This fanaticism and impiety St.
Chrysostom confutes in these five homilies, demonstrating, from the
infinitude of the divine attributes, and from holy scriptures, that God
is essentially incomprehensible to the highest angels. He strongly
recommends to Catholics a modest and mild behavior towards heretics; for
nothing so powerfully gains others as meekness and tender charity; this
heals all wounds, whereas harshness exasperates and alienates the mind.
(Hom. 2, p. 461.) His method is to close every discourse with some
pathetic moral exhortation. In his third homily, On the
Incomprehensible, he complains bitterly that many who heard his sermon
with patience, left the church when it was at an end, without attending
the celebration of the divine mysteries. He shows the efficacy of public
prayer to be far greater than that of private, and a far more glorious
homage to be paid by it to God: by this St. Peter was delivered from his
chains; to it the apostles ascribed the wonderful success of their
preaching. He mentions, that ten years ago, when a magistrate condemned
for high treason was led to execution with a halter about his neck, the
citizens ran in a body to the hippodrome to beg a reprieve; and the
emperor, who was not able to reject the request of the whole city,
readily granted the criminal a full pardon. Much more easily will the
Father of mercy suffer himself to be overcome by the concord of many in
prayer, and show mercy to sinners. Not only men join the tremendous
voice during the sacred mysteries, but the angels and archangels present
to the Father of all things the body of the Lord, entreating him to have
mercy on them for whom he shed his blood, and sacrificed this very body.
"By your acclamations you testify your approbation of what is said; but
by your compliance show that your applause is sincere. This is the only
applause that can give me pleasure or joy," &c., (p. 471.) In the
following sermon (Hom. 4, p. 477) he commends their compliance by all
assisting to the end of the public office, but severely finds fault that
some conversed together in the church, and in that awful hour when the
deacon cried out, "Let us stand attentive." He bids them call to mind
that they are then raised above created things, placed before the throne
of God, and associated with the seraphims and cherubims in sounding
forth his praises, (p. 477.) In the fifth homily he again makes fervent
and humble prayer, by which all things are obtained and effected, the
subject of his moral exhortation. Public prayer is a duty which he
frequently inculcates as a most essential obligation, a homage most
honorable to God, and a most powerful means of grace to ourselves and
all mankind. (See Hom. de Obscur. Prophet, t. 6, p. 187, &c.) We have
seen other homilies of this father against the Anomaeans, in which he
proves the consubstantiality of God the Son; subjoining exhortations to
prayer, humility, good works, &c. His sermon Upon not Anathematizing,
(t. 1, p. 691,) was the fruit of his pious zeal to induce the Meletians
and Paulinians to concord, and prevent private persons from
anathematizing or branding others with the crime of heresy or schism;
censures being reserved to the chief pastors, who are very sparing in
using them. The spirit of Christ is meekness, and compassion and
tenderness the means to gain souls. By this discourse he healed the
sores left in the church of Antioch by the late schism. The Jews and the
Gentiles shared in the fruits of his zeal and charity. Eight sermons
which he preached against the Jews, whom he proves to have been cast off
by God, and their ceremonial rites abolished, have reached us, and many
others are lost. In his book Against the Jews and Gentiles, he
demonstrates the Christian religion from the propagation of the gospel,
the martyrs, prophecies, and the triumph of the cross: this ensign now
adorns the crowns of emperors, is carried by every one on his forehead,
and placed everywhere with honor, in houses, market-places, deserts,
highways, mountains, hills, woods, ships, beds, clothes, arms, vessels,
jewels, and pictures; on the bodies of beasts when sick, on energumens,
&c. We are all more adorned with it than with crowns and a thousand
precious stones; all eagerly visit the wood on which the sacred body was
crucified; men and women have small particles of it set in gold, which
they hang about their necks. On the 20th of December, 386, our saint
pronounced his discourse on St. Philogonius, the twenty-fast bishop of
Antioch. who had zealously opposed the rising heresy of Arius, and died
on this day in 322. St. Chrysostom left the subject of the panegyric to
his bishop Flavian, who {260} was to speak after him, and entertained
his people with an exhortation to the holy communion on Christmas-day,
five days after. He tells them the Magi had the happiness only of
adoring Christ, but that they who should approach him with a pure
conscience, would receive him and carry him with them; that he whose
life is holy and free from crimes, may communicate every day; but he who
is guilty in the sight of God, not even on the greatest festival.
Nevertheless, the sinner ought to prepare himself, by a sincere
conversion and by good works, during the interval of five days, and then
communicate. The Ninevites appeased the divine vengeance in three days
by the fervor of their penance.
In his homily On the Calends, or First Day of the Year, (t. 1, p. 697,)
he inveighs with great zeal against rioting and revels usual in that
season, and strongly exhorts all to spend that day in works of piety,
and in consecrating the year to God. As builders raise a wall by a ruler
or plummet, that no unevenness may spoil their work, so must we make the
sincere intention of the divine glory our rule in our prayers, fasts,
eating, drinking, buying, selling, silence, and discourse. This must be
our great staff, our arms, our rampart, our immense treasure: wherever
we are, and whatever we say or do, we must bear this motto always
written on our heart: "To the glory of God;" ever glorifying God, not
barely in words, but by all our actions in the sincere affections of our
hearts, that we may receive glory from him who says: "Those who glorify
me, I will crown with glory," (p. 697.)
In seven discourses, On Lazarus and the Rich Man, he shows that a life
of sensuality and pleasures is condemned by Christ; laments that any
Christian should abandon himself to debauchery, and declares he will
never cease to pursue sinners by his exhortations, as Christ did Judas,
to the last moment: if any remain obstinately incorrigible, he shall
esteem it a great happiness if he reclaim but one soul, or even prevent
but one sin; at least that he can never see God offended and remain
silent. (Hom. 1.) He sets off the advantages of afflictions, which are
occasions of all virtue, and even in the reprobate, at least abate the
number of their sins, and the torments of another life. In the seventh
homily, he severely condemns the diversions of the circus, and expresses
the most tender grief that any Christian should so far forget God as to
frequent them. He paternally exhorts all such to repentance; proves
afflictions and the cross to be the portion of the just in this life,
and says, "That they whom God does not visit with tribulations, ought at
least to afflict themselves by the labors of penance, the only path
which can conduct us with Lazarus to God," (p. 736.)
In the second tome, we have the holy doctor's twenty-one sermons to the
people of Antioch, or, On the Statues; the following discourses, to the
number of sixty, in the old editions not being genuine, but patched up
by modern Greeks, chiefly out of several works of this father. The great
sedition happened at Antioch on the 26th of February, 387, just after
the saint had preached the first of the sermons, in which he spoke
against drunkenness and blasphemy, pressing all persons to expel their
company any one who should blaspheme. After the sedition, he was silent,
in the general grief and consternation, for seven days: then made his
second sermon, in which he tells the people that their confusion and
remorse is itself a greater punishment than it was in the power of the
emperor to inflict; he exhorts them to alms-deeds, and to hope in the
mercy of Christ, who, leaving the earth, left us his own flesh, which
yet he carried with him to heaven, and that blood which he spilt for us,
he again imparted to us. After this, what will he refuse to do for our
salvation? The third sermon being made in the beginning of Lent, the
preacher inculcates the obligation of fasting: from his words it is
clear that Christians then abstained from wine and fish no less than
from fowls and all flesh. He insists chiefly on the moral fast of the
will from all sin, and of all the senses by self-denials in each of
them. Detraction he singles out as the most common sin, and exhorts us
to abhor, with the royal prophet, every one who secretly detracts
another; to say to such, "If you have any thing to say to the advantage
of another, I will hear you with pleasure; but if you have only ill to
tell me, this is what I cannot listen to." If detracters were thoroughly
persuaded that by their evil speeches they rendered themselves more
odious than those of whom they speak ill, they would be effectually
cured of this pestilential habit. The saint draws an inference from what
the people then saw before their eyes, and represented to them that if
emperors punish with extreme rigor those who injure their statues, with
what severity will God revenge the injury done by the detracter to his
living image, and that offered by the blasphemer to his own adorable
name. In the fourth homily, he speaks on the usefulness of afflictions,
which withdraw men from many dangers of sin, and make them earnestly
seek God. In the fifth, he continues the same subject, and shows that
they ought not to fear death, if they prepare themselves for it by
sincere penance. Their conversion he would have them begin by correcting
the habit of swearing, which had taken deep root among many of them.
This victory, he says, would be easy if every one who had contracted
such a habit would enjoin himself some penance for every oath which
should escape him, as the loss of a meal. "Hunger and thirst," says the
saint, "will put you in mind always to watch over yourself, and you will
stand in need of no other exhortation." In the sixth, he shows that
death is desirable to a Christian, who, by a penitential life, in
imitation of the holy anchorets, is dead to the world and himself. {261}
In the fourteenth, he describes the dreadful consternation with which
the whole city was filled at the sight of new troops, and of a tribunal
erected; and, to awake sinners to a sincere repentance, he sets before
their eyes the terrors of the last judgment. In the twentieth, he
exhorts them to redouble their fervor in preparing their souls for the
Paschal communion, the nearer that time approached; especially by
forgiving all injuries. In the twenty-first, which was spoken on
Easter-day, after the return of the patriarch, he recites great part of
Flavian's speech, and the emperor's gracious answer, whose clemency he
elegantly extols, with a pathetic exhortation to the people never to
forget the divine mercy. From the mention he makes of Flavian's speech,
(Hom. 3, p. 35,) it appears that our saint had concerted it with him. He
preached every day this Lent; but only these twenty-one have reached us:
and only two catechetical discourses, out of many others which he made
about Easter that year to the catechumens. In the first he censures
those who defer baptism, and explains the names and fruits of that great
sacrament; in the second, he exhorts them always to bear in mind, and to
repeat to themselves, on every occasion, those solemn words, "I renounce
thee, Satan;" and to make it the study of their whole lives to be ever
faithful to this most sacred engagement. He next puts them in mind, that
they ought to pray without intermission, and always to have God before
their eyes, at work, in the shop, abroad, sitting, or whatever else they
were doing.
About the year 392, Diodorus, bishop of Tarsus, formerly St.
Chrysostom's master, happened to preach at Antioch, and in his sermon
highly commended our saint, whom he called John the Baptist, the voice
of the church, and the rod of Moses. The people, by loud acclamations,
testified how agreeable these encomiums of their preacher were to them:
only St. Chrysostom heard them with grief and confusion, and ascribed
them to the fondness of a good master, and the charity of the people.
Afterwards, ascending the pulpit, he said that every word of the
discourse had struck him to the heart, and made him sigh within himself:
for praises sting the conscience no less than sins, when a soul is
conscious to herself how far she is from what is said of her: they only
set before her eyes the last day, in which, to her greater confusion,
all things will appear naked and as they are; for we shall not be judged
by the masks which are put on us by other men. T. 3, F. 747.
In three sermons On the Devil, he shows that the divine mercy has
restored us more by grace in our redemption, than the devil has robbed
us of by the sin of Adam; and that the punishment itself of that sin
served to set forth the excess of the divine mercy and goodness, (Hom.
1, de Diabolo, t. 2, p. 246;) that temptations and the devil's malice
are occasions of great advantage, if we make a good use of them: that
temporal calamities are sent by God: we fall into sin only by our own
malice: the devil has no power against us but by the divine permission,
and all his efforts are weak, unless by our sloth we give him power over
us. He draws a parallel between Adam sinning in paradise by his free
will, and Job victorious by patience on his dunghill under his
sufferings, of which he gives a lively description, showing them to have
been far more grievous than all the calamities under which we so easily
lose our patience and crown.
In nine homilies On Penance, he extols its efficacy, and invites all
sinners to repentance. Hom. 6, p. 316, he vehemently condemns stage
entertainments, which he calls the school of pleasure, the seat of
pestilence, and the furnace of Babylon. Hom. 3, he calls alms the queen
of virtues, and charity and compassion the key of the divine mercy. Hom.
9, p. 347, he presses all to assist assiduously at the divine mysteries,
but with attention, awe, and trembling.
In two homilies On the Treason of Judas, (p. 376,) he recommends
meekness towards persecutors, and the pardon of injuries, by which we
reap from them, without trouble of expense, the most precious of all
advantages, grace and the pardon of our sins. Speaking on the holy
eucharist, he says, that Christ gives us in it the same body which he
delivered to death for us, and that he refused not to present to Judas
the very blood which that traitor sold. (Hom. 1, de proditione Judae, t.
2, p. 383.) He repeats the same thing, (Hom. 2, ib. p. 393.) He
observes, that as God, by his word, (Gen. i. 28,) propagates and
multiplies all things in nature to the end of the world, so it is not
the priest, but Christ, by the words pronounced by the priest, and by
virtue of those which he spoke at his last supper, saying, "This is my
body," who changes the offering (or bread and wine) in every church from
that to this time, and consummates the sacrifice till his coming. (Hom.
1, ib. p. 383.)
In two homilies, On the Cross, and on the Good Thief, preached on Good
Friday, he makes many excellent reflections on the conversion of the
latter, and on the precept of our forgiving injuries, by which we become
true imitators of Christ, and inherit the privileges of his disciples.
The cross he commends as the instrument of Christ's glorious triumph,
and of our happiness.
In a homily On the Resurrection of the Dead, he proves this article to
be the foundation, both of our faith, and of our morals. In that On the
Resurrection of our Lord, he tells his flock, that on that day (which
was the solemnity of Easter) they were no longer obliged to drink only
water, to abstain from the bath, to live on herbs and pulse, and to fast
as in Lent; but that they were bound to shun intemperance: he speaks
against drunkenness, {262} and says the poor have equal reason for joy
and thanksgiving with the rich on that solemnity, the advantages which
it brings consisting in spiritual graces, not in feasting or pomp. In
the first homily, On Whitsunday, he proves, that though the descent of
the Holy Ghost is no longer manifested by miracles, since the faith had
been sufficiently established by them, it was not less real, though made
in an invisible manner in our souls, by his grace and peace. In the
second, on the same feast, he calls Whitsunday the accomplishment of all
the mysteries of our faith; and teaches that the Holy Ghost delayed his
descent, that he might not come upon the apostles in vain, or without
having been long and earnestly desired; and that he manifested his
descent by the emblem of tongues of fire, to represent that he consumes
like fire the thorns of our souls, and that his principal gift is
charity. His seven homilies On St. Paul, are standing proofs of his
singular veneration for that great apostle, and admiration of his divine
virtues. In the third, speaking of that apostle's ardent love of God,
which made ignominies and torments for his sake a triumph, and a subject
of joy and pleasure, he seems to surpass himself, (p. 481.) In the
sixth, he speaks of miracles wrought at the relics of St. Babylas at
Daphne, and says, that the devil trembled at the name of Christ, and
fled whenever it was pronounced. In many other homilies he speaks in
raptures on the admirable virtues of St. Paul, whose spirit he had
imbibed and studied in his writings and example. The miracles of St.
Babylas are the subject of a panegyric, which St. Chrysostom has left us
on that holy martyr, (ib. p. 531.) We have his panegyrics or homilies on
St. Meletius, St. Lucian, SS. Juventinus and Maximin, St. Pelagia, St.
Ignatius, St. Eustathius, St. Romanus, the Maccabees, SS. Bernice,
Prosodoche, and Domnina, St. Drosis, St. Phocas, &c., in which he
frequently and strongly recommends the most devout veneration for their
relics. See that on St. Ignatius, p. 593, &c. In homily 1, On the
Martyrs, (p. 650,) he says that the very sight of their relics more
strongly moves to virtue than the most pathetic sermons, and that their
shrines are more precious than the richest earthly treasures, and that
the advantages which these relics afford, are not diminished by their
division, but multiplied. Some being surprised that in this discourse he
had compared the crime of an unworthy communion to that of the Jews, who
crucified Christ, he made another under this title, That we are not to
preach to please Men; in which he repeats and enforces the same
comparison; but adds a serious exhortation to frequent communion, after
a sincere repentance, and the distinct confession of every sin; "For it
is not enough to say, I am a sinner, but every kind of sin is to be
expressed," (p, 667.) Though some circumstances aggravate a sacrilegious
communion beyond the crime of Judas and that of the crucifiers of
Christ; the last was doubtless, as St. Thomas Aquinas shows, far more
enormous in itself; an injury offered to Christ in his own natural form
differing from an insult which he receives hid under sacramental veils,
though it is hard to imagine that any crime into which a Christian can
fall since the death of Christ, can be more enormous than an unworthy
communion. St. Chrysostom, in his second sermon On the Martyrs, (p.
668,) bids the faithful remain a long time in prayer at their tombs, and
devoutly kiss their shrines, which abound with blessings. In that On the
Martyrs of Egypt, (p. 699,) he calls their relics dispersed in different
places, "the ramparts of the cities," &c. In that On the Earthquake, he
expresses a deep and tender concern for the public calamity, but
rejoices at the spiritual advancement of the people, saying, that this
scourge had wrought such a change in them, that they seemed to be become
angels. Two books On Prayer, bear the name of St. Chrysostom: if they
are not mentioned by the ancients among his works, that most important
subject is treated in them in a manner not unworthy his pen. This book
is made use of in many pious schools as a Greek classic, with another On
the Education of Children, full of excellent maxims, ascribed to our
saint; but unjustly, for it is a compilation, made without much method,
out of several of his sermons and other works.
The first part of the third tome, in the Benedictin edition, presents us
thirty-four elegant sermons of this saint on divers texts of holy
scripture, and on various Christian virtues and duties. Those on
forgiving injuries, humility, alms, prayer, widowhood, and three on
marriage, particularly deserve attention. That On Alms he took occasion
to preach from the extreme miseries under which he saw the beggars
groan, lying abandoned in the streets as he passed through them coming
to the church; whence it is inferred by Tillemont and others, that it
was spoken extempore, or without preparation. He says, that water does
not so easily wash away the spots of our clothes, as alms blot out the
stains of our souls. On Marriage, he proves that state to be holy, and
will not have it dishonored by profane pomps, which no custom can
authorize; as by them God is offended. Christ is to be invited to give
the nuptial blessing in the persons of the priests, and what many throw
away on musicians, would be a grateful sacrifice to God if bestowed on
the poor. Every one ought to be ambitious to set the example of so
wholesome and holy a custom, which others would imitate. What
incomparable advantages does a wife bring to a house, when she enters it
loaded with the blessings of heaven? This is a fortune far beyond all
the riches of the world. In the third discourse, he speaks of the
inviolable precept of mutual tender love which the husband and wife are
bound constantly to bear each other, and of forgetting one another's
faults, as {263} a man in engaging in this state seeks a companion for
life, the saint observes that nothing is busier than for him to make it
an affair of traffic, or a money job. A wife with a moderate fortune
usually brings more complaisance and submission, and blesses a house
with peace, union, and friendship. How many rich men, by marrying great
fortunes, in seeking to increase their estates, have forfeited the
repose of their minds for the rest of their lives. A virtuous wife gives
every succor and comfort to a family, by the virtuous education of her
children, by possessing the heart of her husband, and by furnishing
supplies for every necessity, and comfort in every distress. Virtue was
the only quality and circumstance which Abraham was solicitous about in
the choice which he made of a wife for his son. Among the letters of the
saint, which, with certain scattered homilies, fill up the latter part
of this volume, the seventeen addressed to St. Olympias, both by the
subjects and style, deserve rather the title of treatises than of
epistles.