Yea and Nay are but two syllables, yet there is often involved in these little words at once the best of all good things, Truth, and that beyond which wickedness cannot go, a Lie.  But why mention Yea and Nay?  Before now, a martyr bearing witness for Christ has been judged to have paid in full the claim of true religion by merely nodding his head. i.e., confessed or denied himself a Christian.  The Benedictine Editors and their followers seem to have missed the force of the original, both grammatically and historically, in referring it to the time when St. Basil is writing; ἤδη ἐκρίθη does not mean “at the present day is judged,” but “ere now has been judged.”  And in a.d. 374 there was no persecution of Christians such as seems to be referred to, although Valens tried to crush the Catholics.  If, then, this be so, what term in theology is so small but that the effect of its weight in the scales according as it be rightly or wrongly used is not great?  Of the law we are told “not one jot nor one tittle shall pass away;” Matt. v. 18. how then could it be safe for us to leave even the least unnoticed?  The very points which you yourself have sought to have thoroughly sifted by us are at the same time both small and great.  Their use is the matter of a moment, and peradventure they are therefore made of small account; but, when we reckon the force of their meaning, they are great.  They may be likened to the mustard plant which, though it be the least of shrub-seeds, yet when properly cultivated and the forces latent in its germs unfolded, rises to its own sufficient height.