their studies and religious life under Diodorus and Carterius, the presidents of the two principal monastic communities in the neighborhood of Antioch. Diodorus was a man of learning and ability, opposed to those mystical and allegorical interpretations of Holy Scripture which often disguised rather than elucidated the real meaning of the sacred text, so that to his training probably we are largely indebted for that clear, sensible practical method of exposition in which Chrysostom so remarkably excels nearly all the ancient father of the Church. Not long after the two friends had adopted this course of life, probably about the year 374, they were agitated by a report that they were likely to be advanced to the Episcopate (c. 6.) By a custom which was then common in the Church they were liable if elected by the clergy and people to be forcibly seized and ordained however unwilling they might be to accept the dignity [see notes to chapters 6 and 7]. Basil entreated his friend that in this crisis 29 of their lives they might act as in former times in concert, and together accept, or evade if possible the expected but unwelcome honor. Chrysostom affected assent to this proposal, but secretly resolved to entrap Basil into the sacred office for which he considered him to be as eminently fitted as he deemed himself to be unworthy. The Church should not on ac- count of his own feebleness be deprived if he could help it, of the able ministrations of such a man as Basil. Accordingly when some agents of the electing body [as to the composition of this body, see note 3, p. 21] were sent to seize the two young men, Chrysostom contrived to hide himself. His language c. 6. seems to imply that he had some intimation of their coming which he purposely withheld from Basil who consequently was caught. He made at first a violent resistance, but the officials led him to suppose that Chrysostom had already submitted, and under this delusion he acquiesced. When he discovered the trick which had been played upon him he naturally reproached Chrysostom bitterly for his unkind treachery. But the conscience of Chrysostom seems to have been quite at ease throughout the transac- tion. He regarded it as a pious fraud and when he saw the mingled distress and anger of his friend he could not refrain, he says, from laughing aloud for joy, and thanking God for the success of his stratagem. The remainder of the 1st Book [chs. 8, 9] is occupied by Chryso- stom’s vindication of his conduct, the principle that deceit for a righteous end is often salutary and justifiable being maintained with an ingenuity and skill which bespeaks a man who had recently practised in the law-courts. His arguments indeed savor somewhat un- pleasantly of casuistry, and it must be confessed that in his conduct on this occasion there is a tinge of something like oriental duplicity which is repugnant to our moral sense. On the other hand it must be borne in mind that neither in the East nor in the West, for many ages were “pious frauds” absolutely condemned by the conscience of Christendom; there was always an inclination to judge each case on its own merits, and to condone if not to approve those in which the balance of evidence was in favor of a righteous or holy purpose, and a beneficial result. And it must also be owned, in justice to Chrysostom, that one of the 39 Introduction.