ORDINATION TO THE PRIESTHOOD BY FLAVIAN—INAUGURAL DISCOURSE IN THE CATHEDRAL—HOMILIES AGAINST THE ARIANS—ANIMADVERSIONS ON THE CHARIOT RACES. A.D. 386.

Chrysostom had used the office of a deacon well. The lofty tone of Christian piety, the boldness, the ability, the command of language manifested in his writings, marked him out as eminently qualified for a preacher. His treatises, indeed, are distinguished by a vehemence and energy which belong more to the fervour of the orator than to the calmness of the writer. No doubt also men had not forgotten the talent for speaking which he had displayed when he began to practise, nearly twenty years before, as a lawyer. The Bishop Flavian ordained him a priest in 386, and immediately appointed him to be one of the most frequent preachers in the church. The bishop of a see like Antioch at that time rather resembled the rector of a large town parish than the bishop of modern times. He resided in Antioch, and discharged the duties of a chief pastor, assisted by his staff of priests and deacons. Where the whole Christian population amounted to not more than 100,000 souls, as in Antioch,206 that division into distinct districts, such as were formed in Alexandria,207 Rome, and Constantinople, with separate churches, served by members of the central staff in rotation, or by pastors especially appropriated to them, does not seem to have been made. Chrysostom officiated and preached in the great church, where the bishop also officiated. The less learned and less able priests were appointed to the less responsible duties of visiting the sick and the poor, and administering the sacraments. The vocation of Chrysostom, however, was especially that of a teacher. It will be readily acknowledged how difficult, how delicate an office preaching was, in an age when Christianity and Paganism were still existing side by side, and when the opinions of many men were floating in suspense between the old faith and the new, and were liable to be distracted from a firm hold upon the truth by Judaism and heresies of every shade.

Either on the occasion of his ordination, or very soon after it, Chrysostom preached an inaugural discourse, in the presence of the bishop. It is distinguished by that flowery and exaggerated kind of rhetoric which he occasionally displays in all its native oriental luxuriance, and which is due to the school in which he was brought up, rather than to the man. On such a public and formal occasion he appears less as the Christian teacher than as the scholar of Libanius the Rhetorician. His self-disparagement at the opening of his discourse, and his flattering encomiums on Flavian and Meletius at the close, would to modern, certainly at least to English, ears sound intolerably affected. No doubt, however, they were acceptable to the taste of his audience at Antioch; and, indeed, the whole discourse contains nothing more overstrained or ornate than is to be found in some of the most celebrated performances of the great French preachers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

A few paraphrases will suffice to illustrate the character of his discourse.

“He could scarcely believe what had befallen him, that he, an insignificant and abject youth,208 should find himself elevated to such a height of dignity. The spectacle of so vast a multitude hanging in expectation on his lips quite unnerved him, and would have dried up fountains of eloquence, had he possessed such. How, then, could he hope that his little trickling stream of words would not fail, and that the feeble thoughts which he had put together with so much labour would not vanish from his mind?

“Wherefore he besought them to pray earnestly that he might be inspired with courage to open his mouth boldly in this hitherto unattempted work.209 He wished to offer the first-fruits of his speech in praise to God. As the tiller of the ground gave of his wheat, grapes, or olives, so he would fain make an offering in kind; he would ‘praise the name of God with a song, and magnify it with thanksgiving.’ But the consciousness of sin made him shrink from the task, for as in a wreath not only must the flowers be clean, but also the hands which wove it, so in sacred hymns not only must the words be holy, but also the soul of him who composed them. The words of the wise man who said, ‘praise is not becoming in the mouth of a sinner,’210 sealed up his lips, and when David invited all creation, animate and inanimate, visible and invisible, to ‘praise the Lord of Heaven, to praise him in the height,’ he did not include the sinner in the invitation. He would rather therefore dilate on the merits of some of his fellow-men who were worthier than himself. The mention of their Christian virtues would be an indirect way, legitimate for a sinner, of paying glory and honour to God himself. And to whom should he address his praises first but to their bishop, whom he might call the teacher of their country, and through their country of the world at large? To enter fully, however, into his manifold virtues was to dive into so deep a sea that he feared he should lose himself in its profundities. To do justice to the task would require an inspired and apostolic tongue. He must confine himself to a few points. Although reared in the midst of affluence, Flavian had surmounted the difficulties which impeded the entrance of a rich man into the kingdom of heaven. He had been distinguished from youth by perfect temperance and control over the bodily appetites, by contempt of luxury and a costly table. Though untimely deprived of parental care, and exposed to the temptations incident to wealth, youth, and good birth, yet had he triumphed over them all. He had assiduously cultivated his mind, and had put the bridle of fasting on his body sufficient to curb excess, without impairing its strength and usefulness; and though he had now glided into the haven of a calm old age, yet he did not relax the severity of this personal discipline. The death of their beloved father Meletius had caused great distress and perplexity to the Church, but the appearance of his successor had dispersed it, as clouds vanished before the sun. When Flavian mounted the episcopal throne, Meletius himself seemed to have risen from his tomb.”

All that can be collected from history respecting Flavian’s character confirms and justifies these eulogiums, though English taste would prefer them to have been uttered after his death rather than in his actual presence. Chrysostom concludes by saying that he had prolonged his address beyond the bounds which became his position, but the flowery field of praise had tempted him to linger. “He would conclude his task by asking their prayers: prayers that their common mother the Church might remain undisturbed and steadfast, and that the life of their father, teacher, spiritual shepherd, and pilot, might be prolonged; prayers finally that he, the preacher, might be strengthened to bear the yoke which was laid upon him, might in the great day restore safely the deposit which his Master had committed to his trust, and obtain mercy for his sins through the grace and goodness of the Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory, and power, and worship for ever and ever.”

We now enter on a period of ten years, during which Chrysostom constantly resided in Antioch, and was occupied in the almost incessant labour of preaching. The main bulk of those voluminous works which have been preserved to our times belongs to this period; yet there can be no doubt that, numerous as are the extant works, they represent but a fraction of the discourses which he actually delivered. For we know, on his own authority, that he frequently preached twice, occasionally oftener, in the course of a week.211

It does not fall within the scope of this essay to determine how many of the homilies which we possess were delivered in each year, or to enter into a critical examination of every set. But an attempt will be made to extract from them whatever seems to throw light upon the life and times of their author, upon events in which he played a conspicuous part, or which were of great public importance; whatever also illustrates the special condition of the Church,—her general practice, her merits and defects, the dangers and difficulties with which, from dissension within or heresy without, she had at this era to contend.

The field of subjects on which the preacher was called to exercise his powers was varied and extensive. Christianity was imperilled by corruption of morals and corruption of faith. Not the laity only, but the clergy also, at least in the great towns, had become deeply infected by the prevalent follies and vices of the age. Again, between the orthodox Christian and the Pagan every variety of heresy intervened. The Arian, the ManichÆan, the Marcionite, the Sabellian, the Jew,—all were, so to say, touching and fraying the edge of pure Christianity; the danger was, lest they should gradually so wear it away as to injure the very vitals of the faith. Such were the evils which Chrysostom bent his energies to redress, such the enemies whom he manfully endeavoured to repel. He is alternately the champion of a pure morality and of a sound faith.

Among the discourses which belong to the first year of his priesthood falls one delivered in commemoration of Bishop Meletius, the predecessor of Flavian.212 He had died at Constantinople about the end of May A.D. 381, and Chrysostom in the commencement of his homily remarks, that five years had now elapsed since the bishop had taken his journey to the “Saviour of his longings.” The tone of the discourse illustrates a characteristic of the times; a passionate devotion to the memory of departed saints which was rapidly passing into actual adoration; a subject on which more will be said hereafter. The shrine which contained the reliques of Meletius was placed in the sight of the preacher and the congregation, who swarmed round it like bees.213 When Chrysostom looked at the great multitude assembled he congratulated the holy Meletius on enjoying such honour after his death, and he congratulated the people also on the endurance of their affection to their late spiritual father. Meletius was like the sound root which though invisible proved its strength by the vigour of its fruit. When he had returned from his first banishment the whole Christian population had streamed forth to meet him. Happy those who succeeded in clasping his feet, kissing his hand, hearing his voice. Others who beheld him only at a distance felt that they too had obtained a blessing from the mere sight. A kind of spiritual glory emanated from his holy person, even as the shadows of St. Peter and St. John had healed the sick on whom they fell. “Let us all, rulers and ruled, men and women, old and young, free men and slaves, offer prayer, taking the blessed Meletius into partnership with this our prayer (since he has more confidence now in offering prayer, and entertains a warmer affection towards us), that our love may be increased and that as now we stand beside his shrine, so one day we may all be permitted to approach his resting-place in the other world.”

The discourses of Chrysostom against Arians and Jews fall within the first year of his priesthood.214 They are among the finest of his productions, and deserve perusal on account of their intrinsic merit no less than of the important points of doctrine with which they are concerned. Antioch, indeed, may in some sort be regarded as the cradle of Arianism. Paul of Samosata, who was deposed from the see of Antioch in A.D. 272, advocated doctrines of a Sabellian character, but that sophistical dialectical school of thought of which the Arians were the most conspicuous representatives may be traced to him. His original calling had been that of a sophist, and he was therefore by training more fitted to attack established doctrines than to build up a definite system of his own. Hence it is not surprising that, though his own tendency was to Sabellian opinions, Lucian, his intimate friend and fellow-countryman, held doctrines diametrically opposite, or what were afterwards called Arian.215 Lucian, when presbyter at Antioch, was the teacher of Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, of Leontius, the Arian Bishop of Antioch, and perhaps also of Arius himself.216 AËtius, and his pupil Eunomius, originators of the most extreme and undisguised form of Arianism, resided in the beginning of their career at Antioch. Eunomius, in fact, was the founder of a sect which was called Eunomian after him; or sometimes Anomoean, because it denied not only equality but even similarity (????t??) between the Father and the Son in the Holy Trinity. It was the most materialistic phase which Arianism developed. Mystery was to be eliminated from revelation as much as possible, sacramental grace was little recognised, asceticism disparaged. Adherents of this school seem to have existed still in some force at Antioch. A system marked by so much of cold intellectual pride was especially repugnant to the fervid and humble faith of Chrysostom. Yet in his assaults upon it he was neither precipitate nor harsh. In his first homily “On the incomprehensible Nature of God,” he says that, having observed several persons who were infected by this heresy listening to his discourses, he had abstained from attacking their errors, wishing to gain a firmer hold upon their interest before engaging with them in controversy. But having been invited by them to undertake the contest, he could not decline it, but would endeavour to conduct it in a spirit of gentleness and love, since “the servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle towards” all, as well as “apt to teach.” He urges all disputants to remember our Lord’s answer when He was buffeted, “If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil; but if well, why smitest thou me?”217

He dilates on the arrogance of the Anomoeans in pretending to understand and to define the exact nature of God. “Professing themselves wise they only discovered their folly. Imperfect knowledge on so profound a subject was an inevitable part of the imperfection of our human state. The condition of our present knowledge was this: we know many things about God, but we do not know how they are or take place. For example, we may know that He is everywhere and without beginning or end, but how He is thus, we know not. We know that He begat the Son, and that the Holy Spirit proceeded from Him, but how these things can be we are unable to tell. This is analogous to our knowledge of many things which are called natural. We eat various kinds of food, but how they nourish us and are transmuted into the several humours of the body we do not understand.”218

“Again, if the wisest and holiest men have confessed themselves incompetent to fathom the purposes and dispensations of God, how far more inscrutable must His essence be! If David exclaims ‘Such knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me, I cannot attain unto it;’ and St. Paul, ‘Oh the depth of the riches and wisdom of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, how untraceable His ways!’ if the very angels do not presume to discuss the nature of God, but humbly adore Him with veiled faces, crying ‘Holy, Holy, Holy,’ how monstrous is the conceit and irreverence of those who curiously investigate and pretend to define the exact nature of the Godhead!”219

He proceeds to dwell upon the littleness and feebleness of man, as contrasted with the amazing and boundless power of God. The Eunomians maintained that man could know the nature of God as much as God Himself knew it. “What mad presumption was this! The Prophets exhaust all available metaphors to express the insignificance of man as compared with God. Men are ‘dust and ashes,’ ‘grass,’ and the ‘flower of grass,’ ‘a vapour,’ ‘a shadow.’ Inanimate creation acknowledges the irresistible supremacy of His power; ‘if He do but touch the hills they shall smoke,’ ‘He shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars thereof tremble’ (Job ix. 6).” “Seest thou not yon sky, how beautiful it is, how vast, spangled with what a choir of stars? Five thousand years and more has it stood, yet length of time has left no mark of old age upon it: like a youthful vigorous body it retains the beauty with which it was endowed at the beginning. This beautiful, this vast, this starry, this ancient firmament, was made by that God into whose nature you curiously pry, was made with as much ease as a man might for pastime construct a hovel: ‘He established the sky like a roof, and stretched it out like a tent over the earth’ (Isa. xl. 22). The solid, durable earth He made, and all the nations of the world, even as far as the British Isles, are but as a drop in a bucket; and shall man, who is but an infinitesimal part of this drop, presume to inquire into the nature of Him who made all these forces and whom they obey?”220 “God dwells in the light which no man can approach unto. If the light which surrounds Him be inaccessible, how much more God Himself who is within it? St. Paul rebukes those who presume to question the dispensation of God. ‘Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say unto him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?’ How much more, then, would he have reproved dogmatic assumptions respecting the nature of the great Dispenser?221 The declaration of St. John, that no man had seen God at any time, might appear at variance with the descriptions in the prophets of visions of the Deity. As: ‘I saw the Lord sitting on His throne, high and lifted up’ (Isa. vi. 1). ‘I saw the Lord standing above the altar’ (Amos ix. 1). ‘I beheld till the thrones were cast down, and the Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow,’ etc. (Dan. vii. 9). But the very variety of forms under which God is said to have appeared proves that these manifestations were merely condescensions to the weakness of human nature, which requires something that the eye can see and the ear can hear. They were only manifestations of the Deity adapted to man’s capacity; not the Divine Nature itself, which is simple, incomposite, devoid of shape. So also, when it is said of God the Son that He is ‘in the bosom of the Father,’ when He is described as standing, or sitting, on the right hand of God, these expressions must not be interpreted in too material a sense; they are expressions accommodated to our understandings, to convey an idea of such an intimate union and equality between the two Persons as is in itself incomprehensible.”222

And this leads him on to consider the second error of the Arians—their denial of absolute equality between the three Persons in the Godhead. His arguments are based, as usual, entirely on an appeal to Holy Scripture. He makes a skilful selection and combination of texts to prove his point: that the titles “God” and “Lord” are common to the first two Persons in the Trinity—the names Father and Son being added merely to distinguish the Personality. Had the Father alone been God, then it would have been superfluous to add the name Father at all: “there is one God” would have been sufficient. But, as it was, the titles “God” and “Lord” were applied to both Persons to prove their equality in respect of Godhead. That the appellation of Lord no way indicated inferiority was plain, because it was frequently applied to the Father. “The Lord our God is one Lord,” Exod. xx. 2. “Great is our Lord, and great is his power,” Ps. cxlvii. 5. On the other hand, Christ is frequently entitled God, e.g. “Immanuel—God with us.” “Christ according to the flesh, who is over all, God blessed for ever.” In some instances the Father and the Son are both called Lord, or both God, in the same passage; as, for example, “The Lord said unto my Lord, ... Thy throne, O God (the Son), is for ever and ever; ... wherefore God (the Father), even thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness,” etc.223

The reason why Christ sometimes acted and spoke in a manner which implied human infirmity and inferiority to the Father was twofold: First, that men might be convinced that He did really, substantially, exist in the truth of our human nature; that He was not a mere phantom—the error of Marcion, Manes, and Valentinus—an error which would have been still more prevalent had He not so clearly manifested the reality of his humanity. On the other hand, He was reserved and cautious in declaring the highest mystery—his divine union and equality with the Father—out of condescension to the weakness of man’s intellect, which recoiled from the more recondite mysteries. When He told them that “Abraham rejoiced to see his day,” that “before Abraham was He was,” “that the bread from heaven was his flesh, which He would give for the life of the world,” that “hereafter they should see the Son of Man coming in the clouds,” they were invariably offended. But, on the contrary, He was chiefly accepted when He spoke words implying more humiliation—for example, “I can of my own self do nothing, but as my Father taught me, even so I speak.” “As He spake these words,” we are told, “many believed on Him.”224

Two other reasons might be assigned for this language of self-abasement. One was, that He came to teach us humility,—“Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart.” He “came not to be ministered unto but to minister.” He who bids others be lowly must first and pre-eminently be lowly himself. Therefore He performed such acts as washing his disciples’ feet; and the Incarnation itself was no sign, as the Arian maintained, of inferiority, but only the highest expression of that great principle of self-sacrificing love which He came to teach. Lastly, by such language He directs our minds to the apprehension of a clear distinction between the Persons in the Godhead. If his sayings about Himself had all been of the same type as “I and my Father are one,” the Sabellian error of confounding the Persons would have become yet more prevalent than it was. Thus, we find throughout our Lord’s life, in his acts and language, a careful mixture and variation of character in order to present the two elements—the human and divine—in equal proportions. He predicts his own sufferings and death, yet quickly afterwards He prays the Father that He might be, if possible, spared undergoing them. In the first act is pure divinity; in the second, humanity shrinking from that pain which is abhorrent to human nature.225

This very fact, however, of our Lord’s praying, was laid hold of by the Arians to prove the inferiority of his nature. This argument Chrysostom meets in Homilies IX. and X. The raising of Lazarus had been read in the Gospel for the day. “I perceive,” he says, “that many of the Jews and heretics will find an excuse, in the prayer offered by Christ before performing this miracle, to impugn his power, and say He could not have done it without the Father’s assistance.” But this fell to the ground, because on most other occasions our Lord wrought his miracles without any prayer at all. To the dead maiden he simply said, “Talitha cumi,” and she arose; the woman with an issue of blood was healed without any word or touch from Him. In the case of Lazarus He prayed, as He Himself declared, for the sake of the people, that they might perceive that God heard his prayers—that there was a perfect unanimity between the Father and the Son. Martha, in fact, had asked for a prayer—“I know whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God will give it thee;” therefore He prayed; just as, when the centurion said, “Speak the word only,” He spake the word and the servant was healed. If He had needed help He would have invoked it before all his miracles. In fact there was no kind of sovereign power which He hesitated to exercise. “Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee” ... “the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins;”—to an evil spirit, “I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him;” ... “to them of old it was said, Thou shalt not kill; but I say, whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause,” etc. He represents Himself as saying on the final day, “Come, ye blessed;” or “Depart, ye cursed.” Thus He claims authority to absolve, to judge, to legislate.

Homilies XI. and XII., against the Anomoeans, were delivered some ten years later at Constantinople, but as they contain no special references to the events of that time, the continuity of this subject may be maintained by extracting from them the argument there employed to prove the equality of the Son with the Father. It is based on the passage, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work” (St. John v. 17); by which our Saviour justified Himself from the accusation of breaking the Sabbath when He healed the paralytic. The words “My Father worketh,” Chrysostom observes, refer to the daily operations of God’s providence, by which he sustains in being those things which he commanded into existence.

This upholding energy, our Lord declares, is active at all times and on all days alike; and if it were not, the fabric of the universe would fall to pieces. He claims a similar right to providential rule, which implies equality with the Father. “My Father worketh, and I work.” If the Son had been inferior, such a method of justifying Himself would only have added force to the charges of his enemies. If a subject of the Emperor were to put on the imperial diadem and purple, it would be no excuse to say that he wore them because the Emperor wore them—“the Emperor wears them, and I wear them;”—on the contrary, it would augment the offensiveness of his presumption and arrogance. If Christ were not equal with the Father, it was the height of presumption to use those words, “My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.”

In dealing with such lengthy homilies, it has been impossible to do more than give specimens in a very condensed form of the main lines of argument which Chrysostom adopts. They vary greatly in value; but two points cannot fail to arrest the notice of any one who reads these homilies through:—First, the profound acquaintance of their author with Holy Scripture; extending apparently with equal force to every part of the sacred volume. Old and New Testament and Apocrypha are almost equally employed for argument, illustration, adornment; he is at home everywhere. Secondly, upon Scripture all his arguments are based: in none of his controversial homilies does Chrysostom take his stand upon the platform of existing tradition, or rely on the authority of the Church alone; “to the law and to the testimony” is always the way with him. And this was a test at that time universally accepted. The dispute with the most rationalistic and critical Arians seems never to have turned on the authority, but only on the interpretation of Scripture. Scripture is appealed to as the supreme court for trying all their differences; the only question was, as to the exact meaning of its decisions.

Again, we cannot fail to be struck by the ease and rapidity with which he glances off from the most controversial and theological parts of his discourse to practical reproof and exhortation. Nothing provoked him more than to see the bulk of that large concourse of people, who had been listening with profound attention to his address, leave the church just as the celebration of the Eucharist was about to commence. “Deeply do I groan to perceive that when your fellow-servant is speaking, great is your earnestness, strained your attention, you crowd one upon another, and stay till the very end; but that, when Christ is about to appear in the holy mysteries, the church is empty and deserted.... If my words had been laid up in your hearts they would have kept you here, and brought you to the celebration of these most solemn mysteries with greater piety; but as it is, my speech seems as fruitless as the performance of a lute-player, for as soon as I have finished you depart. Away with the frigid excuse of many: I can say prayers at home, but I cannot at home hear homilies and doctrine. Thou deceivest thyself, O man; you may indeed pray at home, but it is impossible to pray in the same manner as at church, where there is so large an assembly of your spiritual fathers, and the cry of the worshippers is sent up with one accord; where there is unanimity and concert in prayer; and where the priests preside, that the weaker supplications of the multitude being supported by theirs, which are more powerful, may ascend together with these to heaven. First prayer, then discourse; so say the Apostles—“But we will give ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.”226

Again, as frequently in other discourses, he reproves the congregation for testifying their admiration of his words by applause. “You praise what I have said, you receive my exhortation with tumults of applause; but show your approbation by obedience; that is the praise which I seek, the applause which comes through deeds.”227

His hearers, in fact, were so closely packed, and so much absorbed in listening to his discourse, that pickpockets often practised on them with some success. Chrysostom advises them, therefore, to bring no money or ornaments about their persons to church. It was a device of the devil, who hoped by means of this annoyance to chill their zeal in attending the services, just as he stripped Job of everything, not merely to make him poor but to rob him if possible of his piety.228

But the most inveterate enemy with which Chrysostom had to contend was the circus. Against this he declaims with all the vehemence of Evangelical invectives against horse-racing in modern times. The indomitable passion for the chariot-races, and the silly eagerness displayed about them by the inhabitants of Rome, Constantinople, and Antioch, are among the most remarkable symptoms of the depraved state of society under the later Empire. The whole populace was divided into factions distinguished by the different colours adopted by the charioteers, of which green and blue were the two chief favourites. The animosity, the sanguinary tumults, the superstitions,229 folly, violence of every kind, which were mixed up with these popular amusements, well deserved the unsparing severity with which they were lashed by the great preacher.

A few specimens shall be collected here from other homilies, as well as from those immediately under consideration.

“Again we have the horse-races; again our assembly is thinned. There were many indeed whose absence he little regretted: they were to the faithful amongst the congregation only as leaves to fruit.230 Sometimes, however, the church was deserted by those of whom he had expected more fidelity. He felt disheartened, like a sower who had scattered good seed plentifully, but with no adequate result. Gladly and eagerly would he continue his exertions could he see any fruit of his labours; but when, forgetful of all his exhortations and warnings, and solemn remindings of the terrible doom, the unquenchable fire, the undying worm, they again abandoned themselves to the diabolical exhibitions of the race-course, with what heart could he return to the unthankful task? They manifested, indeed, by applause, the pleasure with which they heard his words, and then they hurried off to the circus, and, sitting side by side with Jew or Pagan, they applauded with a kind of frenzied eagerness the efforts of the several charioteers; they rushed tumultuously along, jostling one another, and shouting, ‘that horse didn’t run fairly,’ ‘that was tripped up and fell,’ and the like.231 Various excuses were pleaded for absence from church—the exigencies of business, poverty, ill health, lameness; but these impediments never prevented attendance at the Hippodrome. In the church the chief places even were not always all occupied, but there old and young, rich and poor, crowded every available space for standing or sitting; pushing, and squeezing, and trampling on one another’s feet, while the sun poured down on their heads: yet they appeared thoroughly to enjoy themselves, in spite of all these discomforts; while in the church the length of the sermon, or the heat, or the crowd, were perpetual subjects of complaint.”232

Such are a few illustrations of one, but perhaps the most notable, form among many in which the impulsiveness and frivolity of the people of Antioch were displayed. “The building which the preacher had so laboriously and industriously reared in the hearts of his disciples was thus cruelly dashed down and levelled to the very ground by a few hours of dissolving pleasure and iniquitous frivolity.”233

Truly indeed might the lamentation of the prophet over the evanescent piety of Ephraim and Judah have been applied to these people: “Your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early dew it goeth away” (Hos. vi. 4).