Book I — Friendship and Flight

I — Chrysostom's chiq friend was Bast1.

I HAD many genuine and true friends who knew the laws of friendship and strictly observed them. There was, however, one 1 of this numerous band who surpassed them all in his friendship to myself, and who strove to leave them as far behind as they left those who viewed me with indifference. He was one of my constant companions. We applied ourselves to the same studies and attended the same teachers. 2 We had, further, an equal eagerness and zeal for the studies to which we were devoted, and the same earnestness produced by common interests. Not only while we were at 1 This friend was Basil (see s. 36). He was certainly not the famous Basil, Bishop of C:esarea, but his identity cannot be defi,nitely established. Among several suggestions, Dr. N aim (following Tillemont, Montfaucon, and other authorities) inclines to identify him with Basil, Bishop of Raphanea, a town near Antioch. 2 These would include Libanius (in rhetoric) and Andrathagius (in philosophy), school, but when we left it and were compelled to decide what path of life we had better choose, the similarity of our tastes was clear. Besides these, there were other bonds which remained unbroken and secure. The one could not boast more than the other of the greatness of his country; 1 nor was he wedded to extreme poverty and I very rich; on the contrary, our means were as similar as our views; our families were of equal rank and everything was in keeping with our common tastes. 4- But when the time came to enter upon the blessed life of the monastery and the true philosophy,2 the balance no longer remained even. His scale ascended high, while I, still fettered by worldly lusts, dragged my scale down, weighting it with youthful vanities, and was forced to stay in a lower plane. From that time our intimacy was broken, for it was impossible for men not interested in the same pursuits to spend much time together. But our friendship remained firm as of old ; 6. and when I emerged slightly, of my own accord, from the waves of worldly cares, he received me with open arms. Not even then could we maintain our former equality; for he had got the start of me, and, by displaying intense earnestness, was rising far over my head and was reaching great eminence. Still, inasmuch as he was a man of great goodness and rated my friendship highly, he withdrew himself from all the rest of his friends, and spent his whole time with me. He had been anxious for this before, but, as I explained, had been hindered by my indifference. It was impossible for one who was regularly attending the 1 Both were natives of Antioch. s Viz. a life of asceticism and religious contemplation. law-courts 1 and was excited over the pleasures of the stage, to associate constantly with one who was devoted to his books and never even went out into the market-place. On this account he was kept from my company; but as soon as ever he prevailed on me to follow the same method of life, then he suddenly gave birth to a desire which he had conceived long before. He would not leave my side even for a moment, but persisted in urging the plan that we should each abandon his ow'n home and make our dwelling together. He succeeded in persuading me, and the arrangements were in hand.

II — Chrysostom's mother begs him not to enter monastt'c life.

HOWBEIT the unceasing entreaties of my mother 2 hindered me from granting him this favour-or rather from receiving it at his hands. As soon as she saw that this was my intention, she took my hand and led me to her own private chamber; and sitting close by me on the bed on which she had given me birth she opened the fountains . of her tears, and added words more touching than tears, as she poured forth the following lamentation : - I I. '' My child," she said," I was not suffered long to enjoy your father's virtues, 1 It does not follow from this passage that Chrysostom ever practised at the bar. Indeed this is expressly contradicted by Socrates (Eccl. Hist., 6, 3) and Sozomen (8, 2). His presence may have been simply as a hearer. 2 Anthusa; his father (who died when Chrysostom was an infant, s. II) was Secundus. since such was the will of God. His death followed my travail over you, and left you an orphan and me a widow before my time, with all the horrors of a widow's life, which only those who have experienced them can estimate correctly. No words could describe the stormy sea into which a girl enters, who has only just left her father's house without any experience of the world, and is suddenly stricken with irrepressible sorrow, and compelled to face cares too great for her age and sex. She is compelled to correct the indolence of servants, to guard against their misdeeds, to repel the designs of kinsmen, to submit with a noble spirit to the rudeness of the taxgatherers, and the extortion with which they exact the tribute. And should her dead husband have left a child behind, even if that child be a girl, great anxiety will be caused to her mother, but still that anxiety will be freed from expense and fear. But a son fills her with countless alarms every day that passes, and still more numerous anxieties. I say nothing of the heavy expenditure of money which she is compelled to incur if she is desirous of giving him a liberal education. I 5. Still, none of these thoughts induced me to contract a second marriage and to introduce another husband to your father's house ; on the contrary, I remained patient while troubles surged around me, and I did not turn my back upon the iron furnace 1 of a widow's life. My chief help was from above; 16. but I received also no slight consolation amid those trials, as often as I looked on your features and preserved in you a living and 1 A Hebrew expression, meaning a furnace hot enough to melt iron, and applied metaphorically to any great trial : cf. Deut. iv. 20; Jer. xi. 4; and Is. xlviii. 10. exact image of my dead husband. For this reason, while you were still an infant, and had not yet so much as learnt to speak, at the time when children give most pleasure to their parents, great was the comfort which you afforded me. And further, you cannot cast even this reproach against me, that although I bore my life as a widow with fortitude, yet I diminished your father's property owing to the needs of my widowhood-a fate which, I know, many suffer who have had the misfortune to be fatherless. I preserved this property intact and entire, and I omitted nothing of the expenditure which your reputation demanded, but paid it from my own purse and from the dowry which I brought from my home. Do not think that I recount this now by way of reproach. But in return for all this I beg one boon of you ; do not inflict a second bereavement upon me, and do not rouse afresh that grief which has now sunk to rest. Nay; wait for my death. It may be that I shall depart before long. They who are young look forward to a distant old age ; but we who are grown old have nothing to wait for but death. When then you have consigned me to the ground and mingled my remains with your father's bones, then set out on long travels, and sail whatever sea you desire. Then there will be none to hinder you. But so long as I breathe, endure to live with me. Do not give offence to God in vain, by overwhelming me with such misfortunes ; for I have never injured you. If indeed you have reason to complain that I distract you with worldly cares and compel you to direct my property, then respect neither nature's laws, nor education, nor custom, nor anything else, but flee from me as a traitor and an enemy. But if, on the other hand, I do everything to provide much leisure for you in your journey through this life, at least let this bond, if nothing else, keep you by my side. Even if you argue that thousands love you, yet none will allow you to enjoy such freedom as this ; for there is not one person to whom your reputation is so dear as to me." These words and more than these my mother uttered, and I repeated them to that generous friend of mine. But, so far from being put out of countenance by these arguments, he was the more instant in making the same request as before.

III — His decez't to avoid consecration, and Basil's complaint.

WHILE we were thus situated, he constantly entreating and I not assenting, we were both suddenly disquieted by a rumour which reached us. The rumour was that we were to be promoted to the dignity of bishops. 1 25. As soon, therefore, as 1 The word "Hiereus" is translated throughout as "Bishop." To be consistent, the title of the treatise should be rendered "On the Office of a Bishop." It is clear that the intention was to consecrate Basil and Chrysostom as Bishops, and the fact that Chrysostom (and therefore probably Basil also) was under the canonical age of thirty need not weigh seriously, as such exceptions were common. A large number of the responsibilities mentioned in this treatise are common to the two orders, and in many passages it is not easy to say which of the two Chrysostom has chiefly in mind. In many instances he is probably not thinking of one more than the other. Often the jurisdiction of a Bishop did not, at this time, extend beyond his own I heard this report, I was overcome with fear and bewilderment ; with fear, lest I should be seized against my will ; 1 with bewilderment, as I cast often in my mind what had induced those men to form such a design for us. For when I examined my character, I could find no quality there worthy of that office. But that generous friend came up to me in secret, and informed me of these matters as though I had not heard the rumour, and begged that in this also it might be seen that we agreed in action and counsel as of old. He said that he was ready to follow my lead whichever course I should take, whether it were needful to escape the honour or to accept it. I therefore, perceiving his zeal, and thinking that I should inflict a loss on the whole commonwealth of the Church if, by reason of my own weakness, I should deprive the flock of Christ of a young ruler so good and so suited to govern men, did not unfold my opinion on these matters to him, although I had never before allowed any of my designs to be hidden from him. But I said that it was needful to defer our plans on these matters until another season ( for at present the question was not urgent), and persuaded him to take no thought for these matters for the moment, and caused him to feel confident that I should act in concert with him, should any town, and his work would bear more resemblance to that of the Incumbent of a large Parish, in modern times, than to that of the Bishop of a Diocese. 1 Forced ordinations were a common feature in this period. The danger here alluded to may be illustrated by the cases of St. Augustine (who was carried weeping to the Bishop), St. Ambrose (who fled, in vain, from Milan to avoid consecration), and St. Martin of Tours (who was dragged from his hermit's cell). such fortune ever befall us. Howbeit when a short time had passed, and he who was to consecrate us had come, I remained in hiding ; while he, knowing nothing of this, was taken away on some other pretext and received the yoke, expecting, from my promises to him, that I, too, should certainly follow, or thinking rather that he was following me. For certain of those who were with him, seeing him chafing at his capture, deceived him by crying out that it was strange that he whom all considered the more headstrong (that is, myself) had yielded to the decision of the Fathers with great submission, while Basil, who was far the more reasonable and submissive, waxed bold and vainglorious, and showed himself restive, unruly and wilful. He yielded to these words, but when he heard that I had escaped, he came to me with downcast eyes and sat by my side. Then he tried to speak, but was prevented by grief, and was unable to express in words the violent emotions which he felt. No sooner did he open his lips than speech failed him, inasmuch as sorrow cut short his words before they could pass his lips. 3 I. So when I saw his eyes overflowing with tears and that he was filled with great agitation, knowing the cause, I began to laugh in my great delight, and taking his right hand I essayed to cover it with kisses, and I glorified God, because my plan had succeeded well, as I had always prayed it might. Now when he saw that I was filled with joy and bright of countenance, and realized that he had been deceived by me, he was the more overcome by vexation and anger. 2Q

IV — Basil's bitter reproaches against Chrysostom.

WHEN at last he had a slight abatement of his agitation of mind, he said :-" Even if you despise my interests and have no regard for me (and I know not wherefore this should be) you should at least have considered your own repute. But, as it is, you have opened the lips of all, and every man says that it was through love of vainglory that you declined this ministry. And there is no one to free you from this accusation. For my part, I cannot endure even to enter the market-place, so many there are who come up to me and reproach me every day. For whenever they see me anywhere in the city, all those who are intimate with me take me aside and impute to me the greater share of the blame. " Since you knew his intention," they say," (for none of his plans could be hidden from you) you should not have concealed it, but ought to have imparted it to us ; and in any case we should not have been at a loss for a device to capture him." 34. And I am ashamed, and blush to tell them that I did not know that you had long been devising this plan, lest they should think our friendship a mere sham. For if it is so -and indeed it is, nor would you deny this yourself as your action just now shows-it is right at all events to conceal our troubles from strangers and from those who entertain even a moderately good opinion of us. I shrink then from telling them the truth and the real state of matters with us; and I am compelled for the future to hold my peace, to bow my head to the ground, and to turn aside from those who meet me, and avoid them. For if I escape the former condemnation, I must needs be brought to judgment later for lying, as they will never bring themselves to believe that you ranked Basil with the rest who were not permitted to know your secrets. Howbeit this is of small import to me since such is your pleasure. But how shall I endure the future disgrace? Some accuse you of arrogance and others of vainglory; while the more unsparing of your accusers bring both of these charges equally against us, and add that of insolence towards those who selected us for honour; 38. and they say that it would have served them right if they had endured worse dishonour than this at our hands, for passing over so many men of eminence, and for taking mere striplings who yesterday or the day before were still engrossed in the cares of the world (if they for a moment contract their brows and robe themselves in black and feign a pensive aspect), and for suddenly exalting them to greater dignity than they had even dreamt of attaining; and that men who, from their earliest years to a ripe old age, have practised self-discipline are under authority, and are ruled by their sons who have never so much as heard of the Jaws which should guide them in administering this office. These reproaches and others more bitter than these they are continually fastening upon us. I do not know what answer to make to them. I beg you to tell me; for I suppose that it is not without due thought and reflection that you took to flight, and incurred the serious hostility of men of such importance. You must have approached this action with due thought and consideration, whence I infer that you have some 3I reason ready to give in defence. Tell me then whether I shall be able to offer any just excuse to those who accuse you. I do not demand any account for the wrong you have done to me, nor for your deceit, nor your treachery, nor for the treatment which you have enjoyed at my hands in the past. Indeed I freely entrusted my very soul (so to speak) to your hands; but you used as much craft towards me, as if your work had been to watch against an enemy. And yet, had you known that our plan was profitable, you should not yourself have refused the advantage ; but if you thought it harmful, you should have saved me too from the loss, since you always professed to honour me above others. Yet you did everything to involve me in the snare, and you must needs use guile and craftiness towards one who in his words and actions towards you was always open and sincere. 44 Nevertheless, as I said before, I bring no such charge against you now, nor do I reproach you with the loneliness into which you have led me by destroying that intercourse from which we have often reaped no little pleasure and advantage. All this I pass by, and endure it in silence and gentleness-not because your conduct towards me has been gentle, but because I have always laid down this rule for myself from the day on which I first cherished affection for you, that I would never demand an explanation of whatever pain you might choose to cause me. Indeed, you know yourself that you have inflicted no slight wrong upon me ; you remember the words spoken about us again and again by strangers and by ourselves to the effect that it was a great advantage that we should be of one mind and strengthened by our mutual friendship. And though all other men said that our concord would confer no slight profit on many other people; I, for my own part, never thought of conferring profit on any people ; but I said that we should reap at least one great advantage from it, that we were no easy victims to those who desired to compass our downfall. I never ceased to remind you of this :-" The times are dangerous ; our enemies are many; true love has perished; the bane of malice has succeeded it ; we are treading in the midst of snares 1 and are walking upon battlements of cities. Many there be on every side who stand ready to rejoice over our misfortune, should aught befall us. There are few, if any, to share our sorrow. Beware lest we incur much ridicule, and damage worse than ridicule, should we be ever divided. A brother 2 helped by a brother is like a strong city and like a barred kingdom. Do not therefore destroy this true love or break this barrier." 49. These words and more than these I was ever repeating, although I never suspected any such evil; on the contrary I thought that your mind was sound towards me and I was needlessly desiring to heal a sound mind ; yet it seems that I was unwittingly administering medicine to a sick man ; and not even thus, alas ! did I gain my end, nor have I reaped any reward from my excessive forethought. Heedlessly you cast away all those maxims and laid none of them to heart, but have turned me adrift like a vessel without ballast into an unexplored sea, and given no thought to those cruel waves with which I must needs contend. 5 1. Should it ever befall me to encounter calumny, or mockery, or any other manner of insolence and abuse (and such things 1 Ecclus. ix. 13- must needs occur), to whom shall I flee for help? to whom shall I impart my sorrow? Who will consent to help me? Who will repel those who grieve me and make them to cease, and comfort me and enable me to endure the ill-mannered conduct of others? There is no one, while you stand aloof from this fearful warfare and cannot even hear the din of battle. Do you not know how great is the evil you have wrought ? Do you not now see, after delivering the blow, how deadly is the wound that you have dealt me? Howbeit, let this pass, for it is no longer possible to undo the past or to find a way where there is no way. But what answer shall I give to strangers? What reply shall I make to their charges?"

V — Chrysostom's reply.

Deceit is often justifiable. Chrysostom. "Be of good cheer; I am ready to submit to be questioned not only about this, but will endeavour myself also to explain, as best I may, those matters wherein you have not questioned me. If you wish it, I will make them the very opening of my defence. It would be strange, and indeed most perverse in me, were I anxious for the good opinion of strangers, and ready to do anything to prevent them from accusing us, and yet should fail to acquit myself in the eyes of my greatest friend ; and that although he has treated me with such gentleness that he will not accuse me for my supposed injuries to him, but sets his own interests aside and can still C think of mine-and strange if I thus showed indifference to him greater than the zealous care which he has displayed towards me. How then did I wrong you? For this is the point at which I am resolved to launch into the sea of my defence. Is it that I misled you and concealed my own intention? But this was for the advantage alike of yourself who suffered deception, and of them into whose hands I entrusted you after I had deceived you. For if deception is under all circumstances wrong,1 and it is never lawful to use it when it be needed, then I am ready to submit myself to any court you may wish. Or rather, as you will never consent to bring me to court, I will pronounce verdict against myself, exactly as the jurors do against evil-doers when they are convicted by their accusers. But if the deed is not always harmful, but is right or wrong according to the intentions of those who use the device, cease to accuse me of deception and prove that I used the device for an evil end ; since, as long as this charge is absent, it will be the duty of those who are right minded not to find fault and criticize, but to receive the offender with open arms. A timely deception used with a right purpose is 1 Chrysostom's defence of fraud is the weakest part of the treatise. The use of stratagem in war, at a time when all human relations are altered, is no parallel; the example from physicians, to save a patient's life, is stronger, but even this will scarcely justify the habitual extension of the habit among Christian people. Among the Biblical instances quoted, St. Chrysostom's statement (sees. 78) is not true that God commended Jacob for his fraud on Isaac and Esau; and St. Paul's action in circumcising Timothy fails as a parallel, as Timothy was the son of a Jewess, while St. Paul's words to the Galatians were addressed definitely to Gentiles. attended by such profit that many men have often been brought to account through being straightforward. 6o. If you will examine famous generals from the beginning of time you will find that most of their triumphs are successes due to deceit, and that such as these win more praise than those who conquer by straightforward methods. 6r. The latter kind are successful in their wars at a greater expense both of money and men ; the result is that they gain no advantage from their victory, but the victors suffer almost as much as the vanquished, both in the loss of life and in the emptying of the treasury. In addition to this, their methods do not allow them to enjoy the whole of the credit of the victory. As a consequence those who have fallen reap no small share of the credit, because they were victorious in spirit and vanquished only in body ; so that, had it been possible for them not to fall beneath the shower of missiles and for the visitation of death not to check their career, they would never have desisted from their zeal. But he who can conquer by deceit subjects his enemy not only to loss but also to ridicule. For whereas, in the case of a pitched battle, both sides win the credit due to valour, in the case of stratagem both sides do not gain the credit for wisdom, but the prize belongs to the victors alone ; and another point no less important is that they preserve for their country the pleasure of victory unimpaired ; for prudence of mind is not like wealth in money, or numbers in men. When any one continually uses money and men in war, the supply becomes diminished and fails the possessors. Yet in the case of wisdom, the more it is exercised the more it is wont to increase. And not only in war but also in peace you may find many cases where the use of deceit is needful ; and not only in politics but also in domestic matters; a husband needs it for a wife, a wife for a husband, a father for a son, a friend for a friend, and sometimes even children for a father. For Saul's daughter 1 could not have rescued her own husband by any other device from her father's - hands except by misleading him; and when her brother 2 wished to save the man whom she had rescued, when he was in peril, again he used the same weapons as did the lady." 65. Here Basil said :-" None of this applies to me. I am not a foe and an enemy, nor am I one who plans your hurt, but just the contrary. I always entrusted all my plans to your decision and was following in the path where you bade me." Chrysostom. "Why, my good and dear friend, this is the very reason why I myself said before that it is right to use deceit not in war alone, nor towards enemies alone, but in peace and towards valued friends. To learn that deceit is useful not only to those who practise but also to those who suffer it, go up to any physician and inquire how they rid the sick of their disease. You will hear them tell you that their skill unaided is not enough, but on occasions they take deceit to their aid, and unite the assistance derived from this with their skill, and so restore the sick man to health. When the plans of the physicians are hindered by the whims of the sick and the obstinate nature of the disease itself, then it is needful to put on the mask of deception, to the end that they may be able to conceal the true character of what is happening, as they do on a stage. If you wish it, I myself will relate to you one of the many frauds which, as I have heard, the sons of the 1 1 Sam. xix. 11-18. physicians devise. Once a fever fell suddenly upon a patient, with much violence, and his temperature kept ri,dng ; the sick man refused those potions which were able to alleviate it, but longed and earnestly prayed and besought all who entered his chamber that a copious draught of wine should be given him, and that this fell desire of his should be gratified. Howbeit it would not only have kindled the flame of the fever but have driven the poor victim mad, had any one granted him this favour. Thereupon, as professional skill was baffled and at the end of its resources and utterly useless, deception stepped in and showed its power to be such as you shall now hear. 7 I. The physician took an earthenware vessel newly-baked, and steeped it in wine ; and then drew it up empty and filled it with water. He then gave orders for the room where the patient was lying to be darkened by thick curtains, to the end that light might not enter and convict the fraud, and he gave him the cup to drink, saying that it was filled with pure wine. Now even before the patient took it into his hand he was deceived at once by the perfume which reached him, and had not patience to examine closely what was offered him ; in simple faith, deceived by the darkness and impelled by his craving, he snatched the vessel with much impatience. And when he had drunk his fill he shook off the fever, and escaped the danger that awaited him. Do you see the advantage of deceit? If you were to collect all the frauds of physicians, the list would be extended .without limit. You will find that not only thos.e who heal the body but those who care for diseases of the soul, constantly use this remedy. By this means the blessed Paul won over so many thousands 1 of Jews. With this intent he circumcised Timothy,2 notwithstanding that he instructed the Galatians,8 that Christ should not profit them that be circumcised. On this account he became subject to law! and that though he thought that, after faith in Christ,6 the righteousness which comes from the law was loss. 7 5. Great is the power of deceit, provided only that it be not applied with guileful intent ; or rather it is not right to call such action deceit, but good management, tact and skill, able to find ways where resources fail, and to correct errors of the mind. I should not describe Phinehas 6 as a murderer, although he took two lives with one blow ; nor again should I call Elijah a murderer in spite of the hundred soldiers 7 and their captains and the vast stream of blood which he caused to flow from the slaughter 8 of those who did sacrifice to the false gods. If we were to admit this and if you should strip all action of the intention of the doers and examine it on its own merit, you may if you like, condemn Abraham 9 for murdering his son, and accuse his grandson and his descendant of evil-doing and fraud. It was by this means that the one 10 gained the birthright, and the other 11 transferred the wealth of the Egyptians to the host of the Israelites. However, it is not so. Shame on their effrontery! Not only do we acquit these of blame, but we revere them on this account ; for God praised them because of this. He .1 Acts xxi. 20. • Phil. iii. 7. 9 Gen. xxii. 3. 6 Numb. xxv. 7. r Kings xviii. 40. 8 may justly be called a deceiver who performs the act for unjust ends, since oftentimes it is needful to deceive and to gain great advantage from this craft ; while he who proceeds in a straightforward manner does great harm to him whom he will not deceive.