their Church; and this proved to be the cause of his ultimate deprivation and exile. During his absence, the aristocratic party had succeeded in gaining a temporary ascendancy, and owing to an illjudged sermon which S. Chrysostom had preached shortly before his departure against women in general, but which the Empress Eudoxia took, as he probably intended it should be taken, as directed against herself, he secured to the opposing party her very powerful influence. A Council, commonly known as the Council of the Oak, was summoned at Chalcedon, at whose head was Cyrinus, an Egyptian Bishop who had always been one of the leading opponents of S. Chrysostom. The charges upon which in his absence he was condemned were ab. surd and frivolous, such as that he had ordained Priests in his own private chapel, and administered the Holy Communion to those who were not fasting; indeed, so absurd were they, that the return of Chrysostom was for the time sufficient to disperse them. He was indeed condemned and banished, but within two days the city was in open revolt, and the Empress herself counselled his recall, saying to Arcadius, "We shall lose the empire ourselves if we do not recall John." His return to Constantinople was a perfect triumph; crowds of people, attending him with lighted tapers in their hands, conducted him to the Cathedral, and placing him again upon his episcopal throne, asked his blessing. Within a very short time however, the Bishop was destined to experience the uncertain tenure of popularity. Scarcely two months had elapsed from the time of his triumphal entry, ere his final deposition was effected. A statue was to be inaugurated to the Empress; this was done with heathen ceremonies, which Chrysostom denounced perhaps more severely than they deserved, and his enemies profiting by a temporary decrease of popularity in the great Reformer, consequent on his reproofs of the people, procured that the decree of the Council of the Oak should be carried into force. Once removed from the city, Chrysostom seems to have been forgotten by his party. He distinguished himself by the reformation of other Churches, but the Empress never ceased persecuting him, and an illness brought on by exposure to weather during one of his forced journeys ended his life at the age of sixty. He was the finest preacher, and the most consistent and energetic reformer of abuses the Church has ever known; his writings are not only very valuable but very voluminous also: those which have been preserved and edited by Sir H. Saville fill no less than eight folio volumes. 282 THE DYING CHILD. (WORDS REALLY USED.) "OH read those words again, mother, "Say, will the Trumpet sound, mother, Thus spake the gentle sufferer, As he looked to Heaven and smiled; While the sun-beams threw a halo bright Around the dying child. "Oh, bear me up! Oh, bear me up! To take me away to their land of joy, "Let me go up, on those soft white wings, "My FATHER! FATHER, Who art in Heaven, All hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, Thy will be. done" A bright smile played around his lips, And the sunbeams fell still mildly o'er The pillow where he laid, And seemed to say, O weep no more, And the mother looked with yearning hope, From his couch to the cloudless sky, A HOMILY FOR GOOD FRIDAY. ON PROFITABLE EXERCISE OF THE LORD'S PASSION. From Thomas à Kempis. On 1. I to my Beloved; and His turning is towards me. (Cant. vii. 10.) Lovers are delighted with mutual interchange of discourse, and love secret communing, such as often takes place between the devout soul, and JESUS the Crucified. Therefore she says: I am to my Beloved, what I am; and beside Him I care for none other. Him alone I long to fasten my thoughts; to Him alone I altogether commend myself, because He careth for me, and His turning is doubtless unto me. I would not, then, that my eyes wander anywhere else; but that all my heart be turned unto my Beloved, Who suffered and was crucified for me; yea, altogether wounded and bruised with wounds for love of me. A while since, I sought Him, an Infant crying in a manger; but now I desire to see Him hanging on the Cross. For as then I turned to worship the little Child that was born, so now I turn to Him, to mourn Him given up to death for me. 2. In all these things He is beloved unto me, Who has been wholly given to me; Who was truly born, Who truly suffered, and was sacrificed for me. Once He shed tears of compassion; now He gives His precious Blood. Behold how He loved me, Who gave Himself up to death to deliver me from death. Should I not, then, despise all others, and turn to seek, hold, and embrace this Beloved One, Whose ineffable love unceasingly regards me? But then especially is His turning unto me, when He excites me by the internal motions to recal the memory of His Passion, and demands of me thanks, and an entire conformity to Him; since in nothing has He laboured so much for me. There He unfolds to me the mystery of redemption, and instructs me more fully to relish the things of GOD. For this wisdom, which is from above, is beyond man's teaching; and persuading me to glory in nothing but in the Cross of my LORD JESUS CHRIST, in Whom are my salvation and redemption, by Whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world; so that I joy to say with confidence, I to my Beloved, and His turning is towards me. Great seems to me the sweetness contained in these words; though I apprehend not all, yet I despair not of receiving even the least. Only let my Beloved turn unto me, and say whatever He listeth, and I know that He will not speak in vain. 3. Tell me, my Beloved, the words of Thy Passion and Cross, which Thou didst manifest in the flesh. For all do not receive the words of the Cross; which seem indeed to some a stumbling-block, to others foolishness, but to me the power and wisdom of GOD, the salvation also of the world, and life eternal. If any is not thus wise, he is an infidel, and unwise, and will bear the judgment of GOD against himself. 4. My Passion, says the Beloved, is as some glorious aromatic herb, of richest perfume; which, being pondered on in the heart, as if well bruised in a mortar, scatters around a most powerful fragrance, healing the disease and languor of all vices: since indeed in this thou wilt find medicine for thy soul, and ample consolation for any distress whatever. But thou must constantly exercise thy self herein, and strive to conform thyself unto it with all thy heart. For then thou wilt begin to live religiously, and shalt truly grow in virtues, and die in peace, if thou imitatest Me in life and death in My Cross and Passion. But alas Me! I am vile in My own house, and am cast behind: for I seem a great stranger, and an outcast from the hearts of many, who have no relish for My life; whom My Passion neither moves, nor draws, nor enters their heart as it ought, but who are entangled in vain and superfluous matters. They anxiously think of their own. daily wretchedness and needs, and are careful how they may avoid temporal evils; but seldom or briefly think how much I have suffered for them. They are wretched and miserable, full of cares and complaints, who can suffer but little for Me, but long to do much for their own will: moreover, in fulfilling their own desires, they scarcely feel any amount of labour. Alas! such receive no saving fruit from My Passion; but on account of the exceeding tenderness which they show to themselves, they incur the sad destruction of their soul. For if they would be perfectly healed, and freed from their sufferings, they would flee with all humility to the real remedies of the soul, hidden in My Passion; and would be made stronger by the merit and virtue of My Passion, and would learn to bear patiently all things contrary. My Passion has no relish but for those who solemnly and seriously meditate upon it, and fervently desire to imitate it. It is the tree of life to those that lay hold of it; and he who follows it well shall be happy in his deed. greater grace in the present life, glory in the future. For he shall obtain and more abundant 5. Collect, then, thy senses, and remain with thyself, shutting out all distraction; then take some short portion of the Passion, and carefully ponder upon it, according |