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JOHN OF ANTIOCH, SAINT CHRYSOSTOM.

There is an Oriental adage to the effect that a man can never
have but one mother. He may have more than one wife ; his
children may die and be succeeded by others ; his friends may
forsake him, but it is rarely impossible to replace them; riches
may vanish, but the world is wide, and they may be accumulated
a second time ; health may be lost or impaired, but while life
endures the most hopeless invalid seldom despairs of its rees-
tablishment. But by no possibility can a good mother's devo-
tion and love and self-sacrificing, and anticipation and yearn-
ing, and heart pains and sobs and sorrows, and sighings and
anxieties, and pleadings and admiration, and encouragement
and sustaining sympathy, and pride and honor, and hope and
patience and prayers ever be entirely exhibited by another,
howsoever fond and consecrated. So it is that Oriental
young men are, and have been from the earliest times, re-
markably devoted to their mothers, unless they have been
monsters in human shape, or those who have wanted a
mother's early training and care. But even many of the
very worst that have made history awful have kept one re-
deeming quality — their treatment of their mothers.

It is one of the chief delights of the study of some of the
great characters of Christianity to see what a debt of gratitude
they owed for their mothers' care and love, how largely
their future was the result of the instruction and training given
them in youth, and how the good impulses then imbibed en-
abled them to follow the right, to know it whenever encoun-
tered throughout their lives. Nomea, Monica, and Anthusa,
noble, unselfish mothers, are three women whose names rank
with those of all ages for distinguished training of their young
sons, who afterwards were to shine among their fellows by rea-
son of some one virtue, or more than one, received from their
mothers. And how true this is of three sons of these good
women : Gregory, Augustine, and John !
31

482 The Seivanee Review.

The third of those wonderful men was born in Antioch, 347
A.D. His father was a military officer who had won distinc-
tion, and his mother was the devoted Anthusa, who is a noble
example among the Christian women of antiquity. It is said
that her consistency and devotion made her a favorite even with
the heathen, and the great pagan rhetorician, afterwards the
teacher of her son, exclaimed: "Ah, what wonderful women
there are among the Christians !" John's father died not long
after the birth of his son, without having, so far as is known,
embraced Christianity. So the education of this pagan soldier's
son fell upon the mother, who found herself a widow at twenty
and whose life thenceforth was to be given to the nurture of the
son and the worshipful memory of the father. To the former
she taught her own Christian conceptions and planted in his
soul the germs of piety which later flowered and brought forth
fruit abundantly for himself and the whole Church. He be-
came confirmed in the belief of his mother's admonitions and
Bible teachings, so that he was secure against the seductions
of heathenism.

John's literary and scholastic training was received from Li-
banius, the great Sophist of the Greeks, perhaps the greatest
then living. His school at Antioch flourished, the renowned
teacher having spent a number of years at Athens in the ardent
hope of finding all the learning he required. He was greatly
interested in his young pupil John, the son of the soldier, and
his admiration for his talents and abilities was so great, we may
readily believe, that the wily pedagogue sought to offset the
mother's precepts, and to use "his utmost arts and exhibit all
that was most captivating in Grecian philosophy and poetry
to enthrall the imagination of his promising pupil." Libanius,
in one of his epistles, rejoices at John's success. It was the
hope and plan of Libanius to establish the young scholar in the
school as his assistant and successor, in the maintenance of the
doctrines and the defense of paganism. The old Sophist, we
are told, when about to die, on being asked whom he wished for
his successor, is said to have sadly replied : "John, if only the
Christians had not carried him away."

Although he became a rhetorician, and chose the profession

John of Antioch, Saint Chrysostom. 483

of the law and was thoroughly successful (and in Antioch, the
pleasure-loving city of wealth and commercial importance, suc-
cess in legal practice meant much to a young man of learning
and ability), the impulses of John were all toward the cultiva-
tion of divine things, and the sources of inspiration he found in
the sacred writings of the Christianity of his mother. He de-
voted himself for three years to instruction by Bishop Meletius,
received baptism at his hands, and was named by him a reader
in the Church.

But John wanted more service, more devotion, and under
the inspiration of a zealous friend determined to enter one of
the monasteries in the remote part of Syria; and the voice of
the great Christian orator was like not to have been heard,
being doomed by him to silence, or to exhaust itself in prayers
and ejaculations audible only to his God and himself. But the
devoted mother again saved the Church this great loss. Dean
Milman relates the exceeding beauty and touching character
of her pleading with her son :

"As soon as she learned his determination to retire to a dis-
tant region, she took him by the hand, she led him to her cham-
ber, she made him sit by her on the bed in which she had borne
him, and burst out into tears and into language more sad than
tears. She spoke of the cares and troubles of widowhood;
grievous as they had been, she had ever one consolation — the
gazing on his face and beholding in him the image of his depart-
ed father. Before he could speak he had thus been her comfort
and joy. She reminded him of the fidelity with which she had
administered the paternal property. 'Think not,' she said,
'that I would reproach you with these things. I have but one
favor to entreat — make me not a second time a widow ; awaken
not again my slumbering sorrows. Wait at least for my death ;
perhaps I shall depart before long. When you have laid me in
the earth, and reunited my bones to those of your father, then
travel wherever thou wilt, even beyond the sea ; but as long as
I live endure to dwell in my house, and offend not God by af-
flicting your mother, who is at least blameless toward thee.' "
("History of Christianity," Vol. 3, p. 124.)

It is not strange that the young man could not resist, and he

484 The Sewanee Review.

abided with his mother till her death. In all his early years as
Christian convert and theological student, his impulse seems to
have been for self-discipline and practice of self-denial in some
way that would be positive and known, and while acceding to
his mother's entreaty to comfort and cheer her lonely life by
his presence, we are told that he virtually turned his own home
into a monastery. He secluded himself, and practiced the most
rigid asceticism. He ate and slept little, and devoted much
time to prayer. He maintained an almost unbroken silence, to
prevent a relapse into the habit of censure or involuntary slan-
der. (Dr. Schaff, p. 17.) His former legal associations were
abandoned, and he was considered by those who had known
him as unsociable and morose. ( Ibid. ) Two of his fellow-pu-
pils joined him in his ascetic life, both of whom afterwards be-
came very eminent in the councils of the Church. It was a con-
stant grief and trial to John that these companions did not
appear to him to preserve a rigid enough maintenance of their
self-imposed vows. One of them, Theodore, afterwards Bishop
of Mopsuestia, was weak enough to dwell much upon his at-
tachment to a well-known young lady, and seriously contem-
plated abandoning his austere life and uniting himself in mar-
riage with her. His resolution was a blow to John, who was
moved by the incident to prepare his earliest known treatise,
"An Exhortation to Theodore," in which, says Dr. Schaff, he
employed all his oratorical arts of sad sympathy, tender en-
treaty, and bitter reproach and terrible warning to reclaim his
friend to what he thought the surest and safest way to Heaven.
"To sin," he wrote, "is human, but to persist in sin is devilish;
to fall is not ruinous to the soul, but to remain upon the ground
is." The plea had the desired effect. Faith and monasticism
were one and the same thing to John, and failure in devotion
and adherence to the latter was apostasy from the former.

In considering a work of this kind and a mother's inspiring
it, the times and conditions of life which surrounded the young
ecclesiastics must be borne in mind. To have the consecration
of the secluded life of the ascetic, and enter the world by mar-
riage was undoubtedly thought by John to be at the peril of

John of Antioch, Saint Chrysostom. 485

his companion's Christian character. It meant sharing in the
activities arid exposure to the temptations of social life in An-
tioch, with its partial preservation of heathen festivals, games,
exhibitions, and practices, diviners, augurs, magicians, enchant-
ers, the priests of Cybele, festivals of Adonis, and the wor-
ship of the Syrian symbol of universal deity, the sun, of which
the city was the chief seat; it meant being surrounded by the
"profligate of every age and by prostitutes, with their wanton-
ness and shameless language." No wonder the young devotee
was moved to write strongly. The example of one like Theo-
dore would be followed by others of weakening faith, and John
undoubtedly felt that every advance of heathendom must be
resisted, every one of its blows warded off, and consequently
used the most powerful weapons for offense and defense of
which he was possessed, a ready pen and awe-inspiring, ab-
sorbing language. The result was he preserved to the Church
a powerful bishop and one of the first of biblical scholars. And
in this, too, was not the unconscious force of his mother's teach-
ing and example portrayed, and did not John do for others
what his mother had done for him? and is not this the chief est
way in which children honor their parents and repay their
good offices ?

But the young Antiochene lost his mother and he was left
alone, free to cherish his purpose of a monastic life and devo-
tion to his conception of "the true philosophy." Now about
this time occurred a singular episode in his life and one which
developed a weak spot in his character, which has subjected
him to unfavorable criticism. Vacancies were occurring in
the Syrian bishoprics, from frequent dispositions growing out
of the controversies between orthodoxy and Arianism, and in-
terposition of court influence. John and Basil, though not yet
thirty years of age, attracted attention of clergy and people
as suitable candidates for the episcopal office. John shrank
from the responsibilities and vicissitudes of the high dignity.
Doubtless he believed himself not sufficiently tried and expe-
rienced to undertake such a charge, and his subsequent course
would warrant this opinion. He apparently consented to act
in concert with Basil, but he secluded himself when the moment

486 The Sewanee Review.

came ; and Basil, being assured that John had accepted the elec-
tion to one of the vacant sees, was induced to withdraw his
objections, and did the like in regard to another, and reluctant-
ly submitted to the election.

Basil indeed found himself a bishop, but also found the
treachery of his friend had been used to his prejudice, and
though we are told that he upbraided John for his conduct,
John regarded the matter simply as a "pious fraud" and be-
lieved and endeavored to strengthen the belief that the end jus-
tified the means. His justification took the form of six books —
"On the Priesthood." While the ruse was successful and has
been excused by many on account of the life of the consecrated
father, it has never been forgotten. John cited many instances
of a similar deceit, notably Abraham, Jacob, and David, and
the apostle Paul's conduct in circumcising Timothy for the
sake of the Jews (Acts xvi. 3), and in observing the ceremo-
nial law in Jerusalem for the same reason (Acts xxi. 26).

Not long ago, in conversation, a gentleman of distinction, a
man of great learning, refinement, and culture, made the shock-
ing assertion that "anything is right in war and politics, if it
only succeeds!" Perhaps John's Oriental nature and con-
science which had witnessed the same thing done about him
every day had hardened him to the belief that success alone
is the proper test of action. And after all, is it not the fear of
exposure by failure which is the basis for much of the honesty
and virtue in which humankind glorifies itself? The trusted
official who embezzles, speculates, and succeeds is admired
by some for smartness, who if he had failed would be loudest
in his denunciation. The following is an instance in which a
modern vestry was guilty of conduct of this kind. A proposi-
tion was on foot to secure the liquidation of the debt of the
Church. A wealthy gentleman offered after a certain amount
was secured to donate the balance necessary to pay the debt.
The vestry borrowed the money, reported that the sum was se-
cured, and the gentleman, influenced by the belief, paid his
subscription. There is very little that is new in human nature,
after all. Some of the old fathers in their writings sought
to teach that the crucifixion was the result of a mere cheat, and

John of Antioch, Saint Chrysostom. 487

that the devil lost the fallen race by being deceived into the
belief that the Saviour was a mere man.

As already suggested, John, after his mother's death, for-
sook his old associations and went to the solitude of the moun-
tains south of Antioch, and remained six years in theological
study, meditation, and prayer. It seems as if this life was to
him a spiritual and moral tonic. It gave him power to know
himself and govern himself, so that he might be able to keep
himself unspotted from the world. When exposed again to the
temptations and seductions of city life, he would be so com-
pletely the master of himself that he could resist and overcome
them and learn to denounce evil wherever it existed. He was
a great believer in the monastic system of the proper sort ; not
a vain, idle existence in useless contemplation, but he believed
in the apostolic exhortation to labor and do good.

Much of his time was occupied in the preparation of books on
monasticism and celibacy. The emperor Valens, becoming
envious, or jealous, or alarmed, or perhaps all combined, at
the large number of young men who took up the life, and hence
avoided their duties to the state, civil and military, issued an
edict against these "followers of idleness," as they were termed.
Parents clamored against this neglect of filial duty and appealed
to the imperial authority to come to their aid. Hence the de-
cree of Valens. John came forward as a zealous champion in
his three books against the opponents of the monastic life.
With youthful vehemence, flavored by Oriental rhetoric, he
threatened misery in this life and all the pains of hell against
the unnatural fathers who would force their sons to expose
themselves to the guilt and danger of the world and forbid
them to enter into the earthly society of angels, for so he called
the monasteries of Antioch.

But there came a day when even John could no longer abide
in the cells and huts of the monks, in his goat's-hair garments,
rising before sunrise, singing and praying, reading and writing
and performing manual labor, with no food save bread and
water, except in case of sickness, sleeping on straw couches free
from care and anxiety. Six years of this severe regimen told
upon his health so that in 380 or 381 he returned to Antioch

q8S The Sewanee Review.

with an impaired digestion, a shattered nervous system, with
a tendency to headaches. Still he did not remit his labors. He
was immediately ordained a deacon by his old friend and pre-
ceptor, Meletius, and about five years later, by the successor of
this godly bishop, Flavianus, he was made a presbyter. And
now began the work to which the remainder of his life was, as
he believed, to be devoted — that of preacher to the voluptuous
populace of the effeminate city of Antioch. And he did not
long remain simply a good preacher ; he became a popular fa-
vorite. His listeners seemed to delight in being told of their
sins, which he never spared but in unmeasured terms rebuked.
The prevailing vices he thundered against from the pulpit, warn-
ing his hearers by appeals to their consciences rather than their
intellects. And the Antiochenes listened if they did not heed.
Gibbon, with his wonderful descriptive powers, says that
"among them fashion was the only law, pleasure the only pur-
suit, and splendor of dress and furniture was the only distinc-
tion. The arts of luxury were honored, the serious and manly
virtues were ridiculed, and the contempt for female modesty
and reverent age announced the universal corruption of the cap-
ital of the East." When to these tastes and habits is added the
fact that heresy and schism were rife in the Church, and rival
parties contended for the ascendency, it is a marvel that a plain,
practical, severe preacher became the idol, and in the midst of
all their pleasures and vices the people could not but listen to the
commanding voice of the inspired orator, who told them that if
the precepts of the gospel were to be compared with the actual
practices of society the inferences would be that Christian men
were not the disciples but the enemies of Christ.

A comprehensive notion of John's manner and method is
given by Dr. Schaff : "John preached Sunday after Sunday,
and during Lent sometimes twice or oftener during the week,
even five days in succession, on the duties and responsibilities
of Christians, and fearlessly attacked the immorality of the
city. ... He exemplified his preaching by a pure and blame-
less life, and soon ... won the love of the whole congrega-
tion. Whenever he preached the church was crowded. He
had to warn his hearers against pickpockets, who found an in-

John of Antioch, Saint Chrysostom. 489

viting harvest in these dense audiences." And though many of
his hearers, after listening to his invectives against the theater
and chariot races, would run to the circus to witness and in-
dulge their fondness for these sports, there came a day when
they flocked to the church, and gathered about their devoted
preacher, who now became their consoler and comforter.

The year 387 was to be a memorable one to the citizens of
Antioch. The great Emperor Theodosius needed money, and
had his need heralded through the empire. The great cities
were to contribute their share, Antioch among the rest. But
the prospect of taxation for the glory of the distant Emperor
meant possible interruption for many of the delights of the
people. It meant less expenditure at the games, the circus, the
baths, fewer fine clothes, more modest feasts, and in short it
meant retrenchment everywhere. The better classes grumbled
and complained, and their discontent spread to the poor, the
lawless, and the whole company of irresponsibles, to whom
grumbling and discontent meant nothing ; these latter, as is usu-
al in all times and places, soon formed a mob bent on riotous
proceedings, and acts of violence began which multiplied till
destruction grew apace. At last the mob, emboldened by non-
resistance, gained the great Judgment Hall, and attacked the
statues of the Emperor, his deceased wife, and their two
sons, pulling them down and treating them with great indig-
nity, breaking them in pieces and scattering the fragments.

But the reckoning came, and the wrath of the Emperor was
sure. It was believed he would destroy the city. The gay and
busy capital lost its holiday manner, and despair seized upon
its citizens. Wild beasts, the flames, the sword did the bloody
work of execution upon the confessedly guilty. Scourging and
torture were employed to compel confessions. Time-serving
spies made accusations, 'and the innocent were made to suffer as
well as the guilty. Horror-stricken and dismayed with anxiety
during the period of several months, they turned to the Church
and their preacher, who now reminded them of their sins and
their speedy punishment. The season of darkness was made
the occasion by John of assuaging the fears, consoling the
sorrowing, enforcing serious thoughts upon the dissolute.

490 The Sewanee Review.

Women of the highest rank, brought up with the utmost deli-
cacy and accustomed to every luxury, were seen crowding
around the gates, or in the outer Judgment Hall, unattended,
repelled by the rude soldiery, but still clinging to the doors or,
prostrate on the ground, listening to the clash of the scourges,
the shrieks of the tortured victims, and the shouts of the execu-
tioners; one minute supposing they recognized the familiar
voices of fathers, husbands, or brothers ; or trembling lest those
undergoing torture should denounce their relatives and friends.
The preacher thundered these agonies in the ears of his congre-
gations, and proclaimed the judgment day with its terrors and
greater agony, thus turning the anxiety and horror to a reli-
gious advantage. He preached in season and out of season, day
after day and at unaccustomed hours, to throngs of the misera-
ble populace who crowded the churches. It is said the whole
city became a church. And he warned his hearers with the
words: "The clemency of the Emperor may forgive their
guilt, but the Christians ought to be superior to the fear of
death; they cannot be secure by pardon in this world, but
they may be secure of immortality in the world to come."
And when at last the announcement came that the Emperor
forgave the city at the intercession of the aged Flavius, the
preacher urged the people to "share their joy in abundance
of good works and by thanking God not only that he had
freed them from the recent calamity, but that he had per-
mitted it to occur."

Thus John lived his unselfish and devoted life among the peo-
ple of Antioch, preaching to them, giving away the rewards of
his office to hospitals, to charity, and other good works. He be-
came more and more endeared to them, and nothing would
seem to have been more fitting, and mutually agreeable, than
the relations of pastor and people.

But there came about a change in affairs that worked for the
good of the great presbyter to all outward thinking, but per-
haps his life had been longer and his declining years happier if
the change had never taken place. Three exalted personages
with evil natures were now to become connected with the fate of
John, and secure a lasting record in history by that connection:

John of Antioch, Saint Chrysostom. 491

one for urging and securing his preferment, two for their
cruel hatred and persecution and opposition to him — two men
and one woman — Eutropius, the eunuch-minister of the Emper-
or Arcadius, Theophilus, Bishop of Alexandria, and Eudoxia,
the semibarbarian beauty who shared the Emperor's throne.

The eunuch Eutropius, hated by all except the sycophants of
that day, feared even by these, for reasons of his own, suggest-
ed John the Presbyter of Antioch to the Emperor as the most
suitable candidate for the vacant see of Constantinople. His
chief motive for the suggestion was hatred of Theophilus, who
aspired either to fill the pontiff's chair himself, or else to name
the occupant. Eutropius's wish was law with the weak Emper-
or, and John was named. During a visit to distant parts of
the empire, Eutropius had been attracted by the fame of the
Presbyter of Antioch, and, as Festus, King Agrippa, and Felix
had listened to Paul, he had heard John's preaching and knew
nothing could be said against the fitness of the nominee. So it
was that John succeeded the feeble Nectarius, successor to the
great Gregory, and was consecrated February 26, 398, his ene-
my and rival, Theophilus, performing the ceremony, by the Em-
peror's command again at the suggestion of Eutropius. It had
been thought necessary to kidnap John at Antioch and secretly
convey him overland eight hundred miles to Constantinople,
without informing him of the reason for the action or giving
him time for preparation. The reasons were fear of resist-
ance of the Antiochenes, or of John's refusal, or both.

John's career as preacher, begun at Antioch, was continued at
Constantinople, and his influence and fame grew daily. His
eloquence gained him admiration, and his pastoral care the love
of the people. The vice and corruption against which his ful-
minations had been hurled in Antioch were but venial when
compared with the same things in Constantinople. The great
orator began to preach against the sins of the people generally,
class after class ; then he rebuked the licentiousness of the cler-
gy, and forbade much that they had been allowed hitherto ; then
through the officials, courtiers, the great nobles, the grand
dames of the city, the ladies of the court in ever-narrowing cir-
cles, till he reached the center and rebuked the Empress herself.

492 The Sewanee Review.

who grew jealous of his influence with the Emperor, and an-
gered at his severity against sin and vice. She became his open
enemy, and resolved upon his downfall.

There were not wanting willing instruments to aid her in
accomplishing her end, and she soon set about her project. Un-
fortunately John had drawn upon himself the hatred of many of
the clergy, whom he deprived of their privileges because of the
impropriety of their conduct, and unfortunately also he became
involved in a controversy with Theophilus of Alexandria on
account of hospitality extended to some banished monks, in
the course of which Theophilus remonstrated indignantly
against protecting heretics and interfering in the affairs of an-
other diocese. Theophilus immediately set out for Constanti-
nople and found the situation of affairs and, aided by the Em-
press and disaffected clergy, charges were preferred against
John. At a packed Council in a suburb of Constantinople he
was declared guilty of immorality and treason, upon false and
trivial charges. The Empress was aggrieved because it was al-
leged John had likened her to Jezebel, an insult which was of
itself treasonable. The sentence of this so-called Synod of the
Oak was degradation and life banishment. John, not wishing
to cause shedding of blood, nor to seem to defy the imperial
authority, yielded quietly and was conveyed tq an interior vil-
la on the Bithynian shore of the Bosporus.

When it became known that he was gone, the people clamored
for his return. They had had no voice in his trial, no hand in
his disposition. An earthquake shock that night especially vio-
lent near the imperial palace aroused the city and terrified the
superstitious and guilty Empress to urge a request for the revo-
cation of the decree of banishment. In two days more the edict
of recall was issued, and John returned, gladly welcomed by the
people. We are told that he was met by the whole population
— men, women, and children, all who could bore torches — and
hymns were chanted before him as he proceeded to the great
church. His enemies fled on all sides, and soon after Theophi-
lus, on the demand of a free Council, left in the dead of night,
and embarked for Alexandria. The triumph of John looked
complete.

John of Antioch, Saint Chrysostom. 493

For a few months there appeared cordial reconciliation be-
tween pontiff and empress, and they vied with each other in
protestations of regard. But John could not long brook the evil
life surging about him, and began his onslaught afresh on all
evil livers and evil doers. Eudoxia, after time had removed the
traces of her fright and penitence, chafed at the thought of the
pontiff's triumph, and was constantly inflamed by ill-disposed
persons who misrepresented and applied personally the bold and
indignant language of John. At length matters culminated in
September, 403. The Empress had long had the desire to be
crowned with the title Augusta, and receive like homage from
the people on this account as was accorded the Emperor. The
latter reluctantly consented, and a silver statue of Eudoxia was
erected on a porphyry column in the public forum, before the
Church of St. Sophia. The dedication of this image was at-
tended with much revelry of an unseemly character. While
the statue was being poised upon the pedestal, buffoons and
women of the street burned incense at its base and circled
around it in boisterous and lascivious dances (Grosvenor,
"Constantinople," p. 497). The worship in the Great Church
Was interrupted, and John denounced the interruption and its
cause, in his indignation using language which was construed
as personally insulting to the Empress.

She immediately sought redress at the Emperor's hands, and
the bitter struggle commenced once more and was continued
till Easter of 404. The Emperor's edict suspended John, but
he refused to yield, and he was finally condemned by a second
Council for contumacy in resisting the former decree, and for
a breach of ecclesiastical laws in resuming his authority while
under condemnation of the Council.

On Good Friday, A.D. 404, the soldiers penetrated the
Church of St. Sophia, and many acts of violence were commit-
ted. After vainly resisting, John withdrew and yielded to the
imperial officers. Again he was conveyed to the Asiatic shore.
Upon his departure flames broke out in the Cathedral and com-
municated to the Senate House, both of which were destroyed.
John and his friends were accused of this act, but the real au-
thor was never discovered.

494 The Sewanee Revievj.

Again exile for life was the prelate's sentence, but he was not
allowed to choose the place, and he was hurried across country
to Cucusus, a little town in the mountainous district of Arme-
nia. But his zeal and influence did not abate even under these
adverse conditions. It has been said that the Eastern Church
was almost wholly governed from his solitary cell. He was vis-
ited by persons of rank in disguise, and consulted by bishops and
Church dignitaries throughout the East. This was too much
for the enemies of the exile to endure, and orders were given
for his removal still farther to Pityus, a town on the Euxine,
even a more savage place on the verge of the empire. Thither
he was hurriedly dragged, with no permission to obtain com-
forts or relief for his wasted body. The cortege reached the
town of Comana, and the old man could go no farther. White
robes were brought the dying patriarch, and he lay down in a
little chapel after receiving the holy eucharist, and with diffi-
culty repeating a prayer, sank back, saying, "Glory be to God
for all things !" and fell asleep.

Thus died John, the son of the Roman soldier, the pupil of
Libanius, the promising young lawyer, the catechumen, the
recluse, the deacon and presbyter of Antioch, the patriarch of
Constantinople — John Chrysostom, John with mouth of gold.

It were too long to tell more of his persecution or of the rea-
sons for it; of his vast labors and his lasting influence. His
writings alone make a fair ecclesiastical library — homilies, ser-
mons, epistles, and commentary.

And is he forgotten ?

Let the millions of faithful make answer who reverently
pray:

Almighty God, who hast given us grace at this time with
one accord to make our common supplications unto thee;
and dost promise that when two or three are gathered together
in Thy name Thou wilt grant their requests: Fulfill now, O
Lord, the desires and petitions of Thy servants, as may be
most expedient for them; granting us in this world knowl-
edge of Thy truth, and in the world to come life everlasting.
Amen.

James Maynard.

Knoxville, Tennessee.