and the fellowship of His sufferings, being brought into the form of His death, if by any means he may attain unto the resurrection from the dead.' Here is cast down all height of haughtiness; nothing is left to thee for boasting, O man, whose glorying and hope lies in mortifying all that is thine, and living the life to come, which is in Christ; of which we, as having the first fruits, already pursue, living wholly in the grace and gift of God. And God it is 'who worketh in us to will and to do of His good pleasure.' That Pharisee, intrusive and extreme in pride, who not only was confident in himself, but even scoffed at the publican in God's presence, lost the glory of justification for the cause of his pride. Such, too, was the fall of the Israelites ; for being elated against the Gentiles, as unclean, they became really unclean, and the Gentiles were cleansed. And the righteousness of the one became as a filthy rag while the iniquity and the ungodliness of the Gentiles was wiped out through faith.

"How, then, shall we attain to saving humility, abandoning the deadly elevation of pride? by practising something which is humble in all we do, and by overlooking nothing, from an idea that we shall gain no harm from it. For the soul is influenced by outward observances, and is shaped and fashioned according to its actions. Let, then, thy appearance, and garment, and gait, and sitting, and table, and bedroom, and house, and its furniture, all be directed according to lowliness. And thy speech and singing and conversation, in like manner, look towards meanness, and not exaltation. But perhaps thou art awarded the highest seat, and men observe and honour thee? Become equal to those who are in subjection; 'not lording it over God's heritage,' saith scripture; be not like to rulers of this world. For whoso would be first, him our Lord bids be servant of all. In a word, follow after humility, as one enamoured of it. Be in love with it, and it shall glorify thee. So shalt thou nobly journey on to true glory, which is among the Angels, which is with God; and Christ will acknowledge thee as His own disciple, before the Angels, and will glorify thee, if thou learn to copy His humility."-Hom. de Humil.

F

The opposite charge to which his reserve gave rise, was that of timidity. It is remarkable that he himself, writing to a friend, playfully notices "the want of spirit" and "the sluggishness" of the Cappadocians, and attributes these qualities to himself. Ep. 48. Accordingly, after his death, the heretic Eunomius accuses the opponent of Valens and Modestus of being "a coward and craven, and skulking from the heavier labours," speaking contemptuously of his "retired cottage and his closely fastened door, and his fluttered manner on persons entering, and his voice, and look, and expression of countenance, and the other symptoms of fear." Greg. Nyss. App. p. 46. This malicious account may be just so far founded on truth, as to make it worth while noticing a curious difference in a little matter which it brings out between Ambrose and Basil; for while the latter is here represented as fastening his door, it was the peculiarity of Ambrose never to shut himself into his house, but to be accessible at all times. Philostorgius, the Arian historian, in like manner speaks of Basil, as "superior to many in the power of discussion; but, from timidity of mind, withdrawing from public disputations." And Gregory makes several remarks of his friend, which serve to illustrate the shyness or refinement of mind complained of by these writers. The following is curious, as bringing Basil before our eyes.

"Such were the virtues of the man, such the fulness of his celebrity, that others, in order to gain reputation, copied many even of his peculiarities, nay, his bodily imperfections; I mean, for instance, his paleness, his beard, the character of his gait, his deliberateness in speaking, as being generally deep in thought, and intent on his subject; which things most of them copying ill, and indeed not understanding, turned into gloom ;moreover, the quality of his garment, and the shape of his bed, and his mode of eating, nothing of which was studied in him, but natural and spontaneous. And you may fall in with many Basils as far as outside goes, figures in shadow; it is too much to say echoes. For echo, at least, repeats the last syllables even

clearly; but these are much farther off from Basil than they desire to be near him. Moreover, it is no longer a common, but the greatest of honours, and with reason, to have ever happened to have been in his company, or to have shown attentions to him, or to carry the memory of any thing said or done by him, playfully or in earnest, since the by-doings of this man are more precious and illustrious than what others do with labour."-Orat. 20.

Allusion is made in these last words to Basil's playfulness. This quality his letters abundantly vindicate to him, though it is of a pensive sort. Lest the reader should go away with a more austere notion of him, I will add the following passage from St. Gregory.

"Who made himself more amiable than he to the well-conducted? or more severe when men were in sin? whose very smile was many a time praise, whose silence a reproof, punishing the evil in a man's own conscience. If he was not full of talk, nor a jester, nor a holder forth, nor generally acceptable from being all things to all men, and showing good-nature; what then? Is not this to his praise, not his blame, among sensible men? Yet, if we ask for this, who so pleasant as he in social intercourse, as I know who have had such experience of him? Who could tell a story with more wit? who could jest so playfully? who could give a hint more delicately, so as neither to be overstrong in his rebuke, nor remiss through his gentleness."-Orat. 20.

Basil died on the first of January, A.D. 379, having been born in 329. He rallied before his death, and his last discourses were delivered with more strength than usual. His last act was to ordain some of his immediate disciples, that "the things which he had heard" and taught might be transmitted to the next generation, together with the sacred ministry itself. He died with the words "Into Thy hands I commend my spirit."

Chapter bii

Labours of Basil

"Then I said, I have laboured in vain; I have spent my strength for nought, and in vain: yet surely my judgment is with the Lord, and my work with my God."

THE

`HE instruments raised up by Almighty God for the accomplishment of His purposes are of two kinds, equally gifted with faith and piety, but from natural temper and talent, education, or other circumstances, differing in the means by which they promote their sacred cause. The first of these are men of acute and ready mind, with accurate knowledge of human nature, and large plans, and persuasive and attractive bearing, endued with prudence, patience, instinctive tact and decision in conducting matters, as well as boldness and zeal. Such have been many churchmen, in ages whether of more or of less religious error. Such seems to have been the intrepid and single-minded Hildebrand, whose misfortune it was (as they tell us who have studied his times) to have to choose between the popular religion and philosophy, and the entire abandonment of religion. Such, in a purer age, was the majestic Ambrose; such the never-wearied Athanasius. These latter luminaries of the Church came into public life early, and thus learned how to cope with the various tempers, views, and measures of the men they encountered there. Athanasius was but twenty-seven when he went with Alexander to the Nicene Council, and the year after he was Bishop of Alexandria. Ambrose was consecrated soon after the age of thirty.

Again, there is an instrument in the hand of Providence, of less elaborate and splendid workmanship, less marvellous in its political endowments, so to call them, yet not less beautiful in its texture, nor less precious its material. Such is the retired and thoughtful student, who remains years and years in the solitude of a college or a monastery, chastening his soul in secret, raising it to high thought and single-minded purpose, and when at length called into active life, conducting himself with firmness, guilelessness, zeal like a flaming fire, and all the sweetness of pureness and integrity. Unlike the first-mentioned weapon of God's designs, such an one is generally unsuccessful in his own day; he is too artless to persuade, too severe to please: unskilled in the weaknesses of human nature, unfurnished in the resources of ready wit, negligent of men's applause, unsuspicious, open-hearted, he does his work, and so leaves it; and it seems to die; but in the generation after him it lives again, and at a distance of time it is difficult to say, which of the two classes of men have served the cause of truth the more effectually. Such, perhaps, was Basil, who issued from the solitudes of Pontus to rule like a king, and minister like the lowest in the kingdom; yet to meet little but disappointment, and to quit life prematurely in pain and sorrow. Such was his friend, the accomplished Gregory, however different in other respects from him, who left his father's roof for an heretical city, raised a church there, and was driven back into retirement by his own people, as soon as his triumph over the false doctrine was secured. And such, too, we may account the bold and munificent Laud, who was more than forty years old before he quitted Oxford; firm, energetic, unfortunate in his generation, but in the event "the second founder," as one has called him, "of the English Church." No comparison is, of course, attempted here between the religious excellence of the two descriptions of men; each of them serves God according to the peculiar gifts given to him. If we might continue our instances by way of comparison, we should say that St. Paul reminds us of the former, and Jeremiah of the latter.

These remarks are intended as introductory to portions