“ knowest, that I love thee,”—and called upon 29 ‘ the person, whom he loved, to be a witness of ‘ the love, which he bore him, the Saviour was ‘not satisfied with this answer, but required a ‘ further proof of that love: for it was not then ‘his object to shew, how Peter loved him; for ‘that had been shewn before by repeated in- ‘stances: but he wished Peter and all of us to ‘ observe, how much he himself loves the church, ‘ that hence we also might be led to display an ‘ active zeal in its service. For why would not ‘ God spare, why did he give up his only begot- ‘ten son? It was, that he might reconcile his ‘ enemies to himself, and make them a peculiar ‘people. And why did he shed his blood? ‘ That he might become the proprietor of those ‘ sheep, which he then committed to Peter, and ‘ to his successors. With reason then did Christ ‘ say—‘‘ Who is the faithful and wise steward, ‘* whom his lord shall make ruler over his house- “hold?” For though these words are in the ‘form of doubting, yet he, who spoke them, ‘spoke them not in any doubt. But as he ‘asked Peter, whether he loved him, not to in- ‘form himself of that disciple’s affection, but to ‘shew the abundance of his own love, so here 30 30 ‘also, when he says—‘‘ Who then is the faith- ‘‘ ful and wise steward?”’—he does not say it, ‘because he is ignorant, who is faithful and ‘ wise, but that he may illustrate the rarity of ‘the character, as well as the importance of ‘this ministry. Then observe too, how noble ‘the prize is! ‘‘ He will set him” (says he), “ over all, that he hath.” Will you still then ‘maintain against me, that I have not deceived ‘you to your advantage, when you are on the ‘point of being set over all, that God has, ‘and to be engaged in the practice of those ‘ offices, which when Peter performed, we are ‘left to infer, that he had excelled the rest ‘even of the apostles? For his language is— ** Peter, lovest thou me more than these? “ Feed my sheep!” He might have said to *him—« If thou love me, fast continually! ‘‘ Lie upon the ground! Be always watch- ‘ing! Patronize the oppressed! Be, as a ‘« father to the orphans, and instead of a hus- ‘“‘ band to their mother!” But he omits all ‘these directions: and what does he say? ‘‘ Feed my sheep!” For many of those under ‘his authority, and that not only men, but “ n a “ “ n x.
a n n ‘ 31 women, might be able to do with ease all, that Ihave now mentioned. But, when the thing wanted is to preside over a church, and the charge to be committed is that of many souls, let the whole female sex and the greater number of men retire from the magnitude of the duty! and let those be brought forward, who are vastly superior to the rest of mankind, and as much above them all in virtue, as Saul was higher than the whole nation of the He- brews in stature, or rather much more so! For in this matter I would not require the mere distance from the shoulders upward, but rather as wide a difference between the shep- herd and his sheep as between rational and irrational beings, not to say even wider, in proportion as greater interests are brought into hazard: for he, who has lost sheep, whether they be torn by wolves, or stolen by thieves, or destroyed by murrain, or have fallen a prey to any other accident, may possibly obtain for- giveness from the owner of the flock; or, if ‘justice should be exacted from him, he may 4 ¢ defray the penalty in money. But whoever has had men, the rational flock of Christ, “committed to him, in the first place subjects ‘ himself toa penalty not in money, but in his ‘own soul, in case any of the sheep should ‘ perish, and besides this engages in a struggle ‘far more arduous, and full of much greater ‘dangers: for his battle is not with wolves; ‘nor is he alarmed by robbers, or anxious to ‘keep a murrain from his flock. But against ‘ whom is his warfare? and with whom is his ‘ wrestling? Hear the blessed Paul, who de- ‘ clares—“‘ We wrestle not against flesh and ‘blood, but against principalities, against ‘* powers, against the rulers of the darkness of ‘this world, against spiritual wickedness in “high places.”” You see a formidable array of ‘enemies, and dreadful phalanxes, not armed ‘with steel, but furnished by nature with an ‘ equivalent to the completest panoply. Would ‘ you survey another merciless and cruel army, ‘ lying in ambush against the flock? This also ‘ you shall see from the same vantage-ground: ‘ for the instructor, who shewed us the former ‘ enemies, discloses these also, where he says— ‘“« The works of the flesh are manifest, which ‘‘ are these, adultery, fornication, uncleanness, 33 33 ‘* Jasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, ‘* variance, emulations, wraths, strifes, back- ‘* bitings, whisperings, swellings, tumults, and ‘** others, more than these”—=: for he has not ‘counted up the whole, but only by these sam- “ ples enabled us to form a judgment of the re- ‘mainder. Again with respect to the keeper ‘of brute animals, if those, who come to plun- ‘der the flock, see the person, who has the ‘ charge of it, run away, they are satisfied with ‘carrying off the sheep. But in this case, ‘though they should have seized the whole ‘ flock, they are not thereby induced to abstain ‘ from the shepherd, but rather attack him with ‘ greater fury, and are more emboldened; nor ‘will they desist, till they have either over- ‘ powered him, or been themselves subdued. ‘ Moreover the distempers of cattle are easily ‘ discerned, whether hunger, or murrain, or ‘ wound, or any thing else, that can give pain; ‘and the knowledge of this contributes not a ‘ little towards the removal of the mischief. In ‘ the management of cattle also there is another ‘and a still greater help towards a speedy cure ‘ of their diseases: and what is that? It is the D n “a n“ nx n n x“ n“ n n n n“ n“ 34 absolute authority, with which the shepherds compel the sheep to receive the remedy, whenever they do not willingly submit to it, there being no difficulty either in binding them, when the caustic or the knife is to be used, or in confining them for a considerable time under shelter, when that is good for them, or in supplying them with one kind of food after another, or in keeping them away from the streams, or in supplying them with any other necessaries, which may be judged conducive to their recovery. But in regard to the infirmities of men it is in the first place no easy matter to discern them: for no man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man, which is in him. How then is it possible to administer medicine to a disease, the nature of which is not understood, and often indeed, when it is not clear, whether the individual be indeed distempered? If however it be plain, that he is distempered, in that case he occasions still further trouble, since men are not to be healed with the same au- thority, with which a shepherd governs his sheep: for though here also there is need both 35 ‘to bind, and to keep from pasture, and to ‘apply the caustic and the knife, yet it is here at the option of the patient, and not of the physician, whether the remedy shall be used; and this is what that admirable man meant, ‘ when he said to the Corinthians,—“ Not for ‘that we have dominion over your faith, but 4 ¢ 6 “are helpers of your joy.” For of all men ‘Christians are the least defensible, if they “attempt to correct the errors of the wicked by ‘force. Worldly judges indeed, when they ‘have brought malefactors under the power of ‘ the laws, exercise great authority, and compel ‘them against their will to submit to their ‘directions. But in the church individuals ‘must be made better not by force, but by ‘ persuasion: for the laws have vested no such ‘authority in us for the punishment of offen- ‘ders; nor indeed, if they had, would any oc- ‘casion be afforded us for the exercise of this ‘ power, because the Lord does not crown those, ‘who abstain from wickedness through neces- ‘sity, but those, who abstain from it by choice. ‘ Hence there is need of much contrivance, to ‘persuade patients to submit willingly to the € 36 prescriptions of the priests, and not only so, ‘but to make them grateful for their treatment: ‘for, if after being bound they should start c ¢ ¢ é ¢ é ‘ ‘ ¢ c ¢ 6 € ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ <¢ 6 ‘6 (and they always have the power to do so), they aggravate the evil; and, if they neglect the words, which cut, like steel, they incur a new wound through their heedlessness, what was designed to heal them becoming thus the cause of exasperating the malady: for no one can be put under such restraint as to be healed against his will. What can be done therefore? For if, where incision is necessary, you should substitute a milder treatment, and not cut deep, where it is wanted, you would pare away one part of the evil, and leave another; and yet on the other hand, if you use the knife without sparing, the patient, being driven to despair by the agony of his - sufferings, often throws away at once both medicine and bandage, and, breaking the yoke, and bursting the chain, casts himself down a precipice. Indeed I could cite many instances of persons, who in consequence of being visited with a penalty, proportioned to their crimes, have plunged themselves into the worst n nx a n a 6 ‘ ‘ ‘ 37 of evils. Hence it is not enough to pronounce a sentence, suited to the measure of the offence. You must also guess at the disposi- tion of the offender, lest through your eager- ness to sew up the rent you should make it worse, and in your haste to raise the fallen should render the fall greater. For the ener- vated and dissolute, who have for the most part been entangled in the luxuries of the world, and are commonly vain of their high birth or power, may be in part at least, if not wholly, reclaimed from their evil ways, if on occasion of any sins, of which they may be guilty, they be corrected quietly, and by little and little, whereas the application of a sudden and complete discipline would deprive them of even that imperfect amendment: for the soul, that has once lost its sense of shame, degenerates into a torpid and insensible con- dition, and is no longer susceptible of iwpres- sion from persuasive reasoning, or capable of being either moved by threats, or encouraged by benefits. It sinks even into a worse state than that city, which was reproved by the prophet in these words—‘‘ Thou hadst a 38 ‘‘whore’s forehead, Thou refusedst to be ‘‘ashamed.” For this reason the pastor has 6 6 n as na 6 need of much intelligence, and of numerous eyes also, that he may discern the whole habit of the soul: for, if some are rendered obdurate, and driven to despair of their salvation through their unfitness to endure painful medicines, there are others on the con- trary, who for want of some punishment, suited to their past offences, are brought into a state of recklessness, and thus tempted to commit greater. It is therefore necessary, that he, who is consecrated to this office, should leave none of these matters unexamined, but after diligent inquiry into them all should apply his remedies suitably, that his pains may not be ineffectual.
‘It is obvious however, that these are not his only difficulties. He will meet with many others also in setting the fractured limbs of the church. For he, who has sheep under his management, is followed by the flock, wherever he leads the way, so, that, if any of them should wander out of the road, and, forsaking the good pasture, browse on poor 39 n and rocky spots, he is able by only exerting - his voice to reassemble them at pleasure, and a bring back the stragglers to the flock. But, when a man wanders from the right faith, the a “ spiritual shepherd has much cause for ina dustry, perseverance, and patience: for he a cannot drag him by force, or compel him to .
come back, but must lead him with caution, n first convincing him of the truth, from which n he originally fell. He has need therefore of n a strong mind, that will not sink or despair nw of the salvation of those, who have gone a“ astray, but be considerate, and cherish hope, n if God peradventure will give them repena tance to the acknowledging of the truth, and a that they may recover themselves out of the n snare of the devil. It was with this view, ‘that the Lord said to his disciples—‘‘ Who “¢ then is the faithful and wise steward?’ For ‘the man, who exercises discipline over him- ‘ self, benefits himself alone, whereas the advan- ‘ tage of the pastoral office extends to the whole ‘people; and although a person, who distri- ‘butes money among the needy, or otherwise ‘protects the injured, does indeed some good 40 to his neighbour, his services are as much ‘ inferior to those conferred by the priest as the ‘soul is better than the body. With reason ‘then did the Lord declare, that zeal for his ‘ flock is a sign of love to himself.’
‘ But’ (said Basil) ‘do not you then love ‘ Christ?’
‘I both love him,’ (replied I), ‘ and shall ‘ never cease to love him. But yet I fear to ‘ exasperate the being, whom I love.’
Upon this Basil exclaimed—‘ Now what enig- ‘ma can there be, more inexplicable than this, ‘that, whereas Christ ordered the disciple, ‘ who loved him, to feed his sheep, you assign, ‘as a reason for not feeding them, that you love him, who ordered it?’
‘ [tis no enigma’ (said I), ‘but a plain and ‘ simple statement: for, if I were competent ‘ to discharge this duty according to the will of ‘ Christ, and yet shrunk from the task, the ‘ declaration I have just made might reasonably ‘perplex you. But, since the infirmities of my ‘soul render me unfit for that ministry, how is ‘your question called for by my observation?
‘ For my fear is, lest after receiving the flock ¢ 6 6 ¢ € ‘ / nw a a n “ n na n n 41 of Christ in good condition, and in a rich pasturage, I should injure it by my unskil- fulness, and so exasperate that God against me, whose love for it was such, that he even gave himself up for its salvation and glory.’
‘ You are jesting’—said he. ‘For, if you were in earnest, I cannot conceive any course of reasoning, better suited to justify my quar- rel with you than that, by which you have attempted to obviate my complaint. For, though I was convinced before, that you had deceived and betrayed me, I am now much more certain of it thanever. I now see clearly in your manner of evading my charge the evil, to which you have reduced me: for, if you shrunk from this office yourself through a consciousness, that you were unqualified for so weighty a duty, you ought first to have withheld me from engaging in it, though I had been ever so anxious for it, how much more then, when I had entrusted you with the whole of my design! You on the contrary, while you saw your own case so clearly, overlooked mine: or rather I wish (4 6 € ¢ n n a n a x “ ON n 42 you had overlooked it; for then I could have been contented. But you have moreover laid a plot, that I might become an easy prey to those, who were desirous to take me: for you cannot pretend, that you were deceived by the opinion of the multitude, who persuaded you to form an extravagant estimate of my charac- ter, since I am not a distinguished person, and have no admirers among them; nor yet, if I were, ought you to value the opinion of the multitude above the truth. If indeed you had never been in my company, or at all con- nected with me, there might seem to be some plausible excuse for your concurrence with others. But, since you are better acquainted with every thing, that belongs to me, since you know my mind more fully than even my parents and instructors themselves, what de- fence can you make, or how persuade any one, that you have not of your own accord brought me into this danger? But enough of this. I do not wish to put you upon your defence about it. Tell me, what apology we shall make to those, who censure us!’
‘“Nay’—said I. ‘I cannot consent to enter 43 a“ upon that subject, before I have explained my n conduct towards yourself, not, though you “ were willing a thousand times over to release a me from these charges. Had I been igno- rant, (you said), I might have obtained for- “ a giveness. Had I brought you into your present situation without knowing you, in that case s you would discharge me from all blame. But, x since I betrayed you not ignorantly, but upon a the most accurate knowledge of your charac- .
ter, for this reason you allege, that every ON plausible pretext and reasonable excuse is taken away. Now I hold the very reverse of n all this: and on what grounds? Because it a is an affair, that demands serious examination, “ and because in order to recommend any one s to the priestly office, it is not enough to be n satisfied upon general report, but in addition to n vague surmises, and before and above them all .
to have made an accurate and personal inquiry a into his qualifications: for, when the holy ‘ Paul says—‘‘ He must have a good report ‘‘ of them, which are without”—, he does not ‘exclude an exact and painful inquiry; nor ‘does he propose the judgment of strangers, a a n a n a “ n n ¢ 4 « ¢ 44 as the principal evidence to be sought; for he first enumerates many other requisites, and only adds this, as the last of them, to shew, that we ought not to be satisfied with the others alone in elections of this nature, but should have recourse to this also in conjunc- tion with the rest, because, though common report is itself frequently erroneous, yet, when backed by an accurate investigation of fact, it is no longer liable to suspicion. For this reason he stations the report of them, which are without, in the last place: for he does not say merely—‘‘ He must have a good report”—, but subjoins the clause—‘‘ Of them, which ‘‘ are without” —, that he may thereby enforce ‘ (4 ¢ € (4 € ¢ ¢ ¢ the necessity of a particular and personal in- quiry, prior to the report of them, which are without. Since therefore, as you have just confessed, I knew all your qualifications better even than your parents did, for this reason I ought to be exempted from all blame.’
‘ Nay’—says he. ‘For that very reason you could not possibly be acquitted, if there were any disposition to put you upon your trial. Do 45 ‘you not remember learning from myself, and ‘ often observing by my actions the poverty and ‘littleness of my soul? Have you not been ‘constantly laughing at me for my weakness, ‘ because I easily gave way to any accidental ‘ uneasiness?’
‘1 do remember (said I) ‘ often hearing such ‘ expressions from you. That I cannot deny. ‘ But, if I ever laughed at you for this, I did ‘it only in the way of banter, and not seriously. ‘ However, I do not contend with you now ‘upon these pots; and on the other hand I ‘lay claim to equal candour from you, when I ‘ proceed to remind you of some of your good ‘ qualities; in which if you attempt to convict ‘me of any error, I will not spare you, but ‘ will prove, that your declarations are prompted ‘by modesty, and not by truth; which I will ‘do without calling any other witnesses in sup- ‘port of my assertions, but your own words ‘and actions: and first I beg leave to ask you ‘this question. Are you sensible, how great ‘ the value of love is? For Christ, overlooking ‘ all the miracles, which were soon to be wrought ‘by the apostles, says only—‘‘ By this shall 46 ‘all men know, that ye are my disciples, if ‘‘ ye have love, one to another ”—; and Paul ‘ says, that love is the fulfilling of the law, and ‘again, that all gifts are valueless without it. ‘This excellent quality, the distinguishing ‘mark of Christ’s disciples, I saw deeply im- ‘planted in your soul, and shooting up into ‘an abundance of fruit.’
Upon this Basil says. ‘That I have great ‘esteem for the priestly office, and that I am ‘ particularly zealous in behalf of this particular ‘commandment, I am ready to acknowledge. ‘ But, that I have not half fulfilled it, you could ‘not but yourself bear me witness, if instead of ‘flattering you would maintain a_ proper ‘ regard to truth.’
‘ Well/—said I. ‘ Then I will turn to the ‘ proofs, and will put my threat into execution ‘by demonstrating, that you yourself speak ‘more from diffidence than from the evidence ‘ of fact: and I will call to your mind an inci- ‘dent, which happened recently, lest the men- ‘tion of any old transaction should excite a ‘suspicion, that I wish to involve the truth in ‘obscurity through distance of time, when a ‘the real state of the case would not support ‘mein what I might be induced to say from ‘partiality or friendship: for, when an in- ‘formation was laid against one of our inti- ¢ mate friends upon a false charge of injustice 6 and contumacy, by which he was exposed to ‘imminent danger, you without being yourself ‘ accused, without being solicited by the per- ‘ son, whose interests were at stake, threw your- ‘ self voluntarily into the midst of the danger. ‘So much for your actions. That I may con- ‘vict you from your words also, when some ‘ persons did not approve of this zeal, and ‘ others extolled and admired it, you said to ‘these, who upbraided you—‘‘ How could I “ act otherwise? For I know no other way of “ testifying my love than by exposing my own ‘« life, when it is necessary, to save any of my ‘‘ friends, who are in danger’—,thus saying ‘with Christ, in ‘other words indeed, when, ‘he was explaining to his disciples the ex- ‘tent and limit of perfect love, but to the same ‘ effect—‘‘ Greater love hath no man than this, “ that a man lay down his life for his friends.” ‘If therefore it be impossible to find greater 48 48 ‘love than this, you have already arrived at the ‘ height of it, and are proved both by your words ‘and actions to have already attained it in its ‘perfection. For this reason it was, that I ‘betrayed you. For this I concerted that stra- ‘tagem. Are you yet satisfied, that I did it ‘ with no evil design, with no wish to lead you ‘into danger, but have forced you into this ‘ public career, because I knew, that it would ‘ be productive of good?’
‘Then you think the power of love’ (said he) ‘ to be itself sufficient for correcting the errors ‘ of our neighbours.’
‘ Undoubtedly’ (I replied) ‘it will do a great ‘deal towards it. But, if you wish me to pro- ‘ duce specimens of your prudence also, I will ‘ go to that next, and shew, that you are even ‘ more wise than benevolent.’
Upon this he blushed, like crimson, and said — Let us have done with this discussion of my ‘character! For I never from the very first ‘exacted from you any account of what you ‘have done. But, if you have any suitable ‘answer to make to them, which are without, ‘JT will hear what you have to say upon that ag ‘ subject with pleasure. Desist then from fight- ‘ing with a shadow, and tell me, what defence “we can offer to others, as well those, who ‘have thought us worthy of this honour, as ‘ those, who have taken offence at us for treating ‘them with contempt!’
‘Tam myself hastening to that point’—said I. ‘For, having finished what I had to say ‘respecting your qualifications, I now apply ‘myself readily to the matter of this apo- ‘logy. What then is the accusation? What ‘ are the charges?’
‘They allege, (said he,) ‘that we have ‘ treated them with insolence and indignity in ‘ not accepting the honour, which they wished ‘ to confer.’
‘ First then I answer,’ (said I,) ‘ that we ‘ought not to concern ourselves about any dis- ‘honour to men, when by shewing them ‘respect we should be forced to offend God. * But in fact as to the offence, taken at our coh- ‘ duct in this instance, I would not say, that it is ‘ altogether without peril, or even, that it will ‘not be productive of much mischief to those ‘ very persons, who feel themselves offended; E 50 ‘for I hold, that all, who are devoted to God, and look to him alone, ought to possess too nN much equanimity and moderation to regard ‘such an act as this in the light of an insult, ‘ even though they had been slighted much more than they have been. However it is manifest ‘from this, that I have not been designedly ‘ guilty of anything of the kind. For, if [had ‘acted, as I have, from contumacy, or vanity, ‘ of which you say I am often accused, I should ‘ have committed an offence of the most agera- ‘vated kind in despising men of considerable rank and merit, and those too, our own benen factors: for, if to injure persons, who have .
never injured us, be worthy of punishment, a how serious a duty must it be to honor those, eo who have previously chosen to do us honour!
“ For it cannot be alleged, that the individuals n in question have received any favour from me, 5 great or small, for which they were anxious to “ make a return. How heinous then would it n be to repay their kindness with the contrary!
“ But now, if I have had no such intention, but n have eluded the heavy weight, prepared for na me, from other motives, why will they not ot ‘make some allowances? Why, even though ‘they do not approve, must they upbraid me ‘ for having spared their consciences? For so far ‘am I from having treated them with insolence ‘or contempt, that I have shewn my respect ‘ for them by the refusal. Be not surprised at ‘astatement, so contrary to the general opinion! ‘ For I will soon explain the paradox, since, ‘had I acted otherwise, all people, or at ‘ least all, who are addicted to calumny, would ‘ have had much ground for suspicion and com- ‘ plaint on account of my ordination, and that ‘not only against me, but against those, who ‘made choice of me, as for instance, that they ‘regard wealth, and are attracted by birth, or ‘that they must have been flattered by me, ‘ before they brought me forward. If they had ‘even said; that I had bribed them, I should ‘have no’ means of refuting their surmises. “« Christ” (they would say) ‘ called to this high ‘¢ office fishermen, and tentmakers, and collec- “ tors of tribute. But these men despise all, ‘“* who support themselves by their daily indus- “try, while, if there be one, who dabbles in “foreign languages, and is brought up in idle- 52 52 “‘ ness, him they accept and admire: for else ‘“‘ why did they pass by all those, who undergo ‘‘ continual toils in the service of the church, “and advance a person to this dignity un- ‘“‘ expectedly, who is a stranger to labour, and “has spent all his time in the idle pursuit of ‘* foreign literature?” This, and more than this ‘they might have said, if I had accepted this ‘appointment. But now they cannot say it: ‘for all occasion of calumny is taken away; 4 and they can no longer tax either me with ‘ flattery, or them with corruption without in- curring the charge of downright madness: for can it be imagined, that a person, who flatters, and gives money, to procure this distinction, would abandon it at the very moment, when it is within his reach? This would be the same thing, as if after having taken much trouble about a farm, that the land might be covered with large crops, and the wine-presses burst out with wine, after great fatigue and much a a expence, when the time for reaping and ‘ gathering arrived, the owner should give up ‘the produce to others. You perceive, that in ‘ the case I have supposed, though these decla- 53 ‘rations would still be far from true, yet any ‘ persons, who were disposed to accuse our su- ‘periors of forming their election upon wrong ‘ principles, would at least have some pretext, whereas my present conduct has left them no opportunity for opening their mouth.
‘ All this, and much more would be urged against us on our first appointment. But, when we had entered upon our ministry, we should be unable to answer the remarks, which would be made upon us every day, even though we should do all things cor- rectly, much more, when through our youth and inexperience we should be driven into many faults. From this charge we have now released them, whereas then we should have involved them in numberless reproaches. For what would not the objectors say? ‘They ‘«‘ have committed this vast, this weighty charge, “to silly boys. They have injured the flock “of God. The concerns of christians have n a na w a n n “ n n n n “ “‘ become a subject of jest and laughter.” Now ‘however all Iniquity shall stop her mouth: ‘ for, even though they should make these alle- ‘gations on your account, you will soon teach 34 ‘them by your conduct, that it is wrong either ‘to measure the understanding of a person by ‘his youth, or to approve of an old man for ‘his hoary hairs, and that they ought not to “exclude every young man, but only a novice ‘from the ministry; for there is a great diffe- ‘ rence between the two.
BOOK THE THIRD.
‘I nave now answered the charge of disrespect ‘ towards my superiors, and proved, that when ‘I declined the honour they intended me, I ‘did it without any intention of treating them ¢ 6 ¢ oN n ny Cy with contempt. I will next set myself to convince you to the best of my ability, that I did not act in this manner out of pride or arrogance.
‘ Had an offer indeed been made me to com- mand an army or a kingdom, and had I then adopted this resolution, there might have been some ground for such a suspicion; or rather in that case my conduct would have been uni- versally ascribed to stupidity, and not to arro- gance. But, when an offer is made me of the priesthood, which is as much more honor- able than a kingdom as the spirit is superior to the flesh, will any one dare to pronounce me guilty of despising the office? Nay. Is oO n a “~ “ n * a n * ”“ n~ 56 there no absurdity in attributing the rejection of an inferior offer to idiocy, while those, who do the same thing in a matter of much higher moment, are deprived of the excuse of mad- ness,. and subjected to the imputation of vanity? It is much as if we were to set down a person, who was above minding a few oxen, and refused to be a herdsman, not for a proud man, but for an idiot, and then to pronounce another, who refused the kingdom of all the world, and the command of all the armies of every country, not mad, but haughty. But it is not so. Undoubtedly it is not; nor do those, who set up this pretence, bring any charge against me, which is not equally applicable to themselves; for by only conceiving it possible, that human nature should look with contempt upon that dignity, my accusers themselves furnish me with a proof of the estimation, in which they hold the employment: for, had they not looked upon it, as an employment of common minds, and of little value, such — a suspicion could never have occurred to them. Else how is it, that no one has ever ventured to utter a similar suspicion concerning the dig- ¢ n a nn “ a a nx n n n ¢ 57 nity of angels, or to say, that the human soul is too proud to take possession of that dis- tinction? It is, because we entertain high notions of those powers, which will not permit us to believe, that any honour can be regarded, as superior to theirs. I might therefore with a greater show of justice tax those, who bring this charge against me, with pride: for they could never have harboured such a sentiment concerning others, if they had not first entertained a mean opinion of the office themselves.
‘If however they say, that I did this with © an eye to my own glory, they bring forward arguments, that palpably defeat and confute themselves: for I do not see, how they could have invented a more plausible mode of rea- soning, if it had been their object to release me from the charge of vain glory. In fact, had I been possessed with this passion, I should rather have closed with their offer than evaded it: and for what reason? Because it would have done me much honour: for it would have led all men to entertain high and exalted notions of me, and have made me honorable and conspicuous, when they saw a 58 ‘ person of my age, who had been but a short ‘time withdrawn from worldly concerns, be- “come ona sudden an object of such general ‘admiration as to be preferred to those, who ‘ had expended their whole lives in such labours, ‘and to obtain more votes than all of them, ‘ whereas now with a very few exceptions I am not known by name to the greater part of the church; and hence it is only a few, and not the whole body, that are acquainted with my ‘having declined the proposal; and even of those few several (I imagine) are not apprised ‘of the exact case, but suppose, either that I n was never selected, or, that, being on further n consideration thought unqualified, I was purn posely passed over, and did not elude the appointment of my own accord.’ Upon this Basil interposed—‘ But those, who know the fact, will regard you with ns admiration.’ ‘ And yet’ (said I) ‘you reported, that these very persons accuse me of being vain-glorious n and proud. From whom then am I to expect n praise? From the many? But they are not acquainted with the exact case. From the A ¢ € ¢ 4 “ n .
s n “ .
- 59 few then? But with them also the tide has turned against: me: for you came hither just now for no other purpose, but to learn, what apology you could make to them: and why is it, that I enter upon the discussion of their charges? For, if they all knew the truth, they would have no reason to accuse me of con- tumacy, or vanity. Of this, if you will only wait a little, you shall soon be convinced; and you will then perceive also, that not only those, if there be any, (for I do not believe it), who have this presumption, but those, who impute it to others, are in no slight peril. For though / 7 } the priesthood is discharged upon Earth, it is ranked among heavenly ordinances, and with good reason; for it was established neither by man, nor by angel, nor archangel, nor by any other created power, but by the comforter himself, who has entrusted men, yet dwelling in the flesh, with a ministry, like that of angels: for which reason the person, who is consecrated to this office, ought to be as pure, as if he stood in the heavens themselves, en- circled by those superior beings. For if even the institutions of the law were awful, and a ¢ a n nn n 60