he brazen images, and it is easy to
make others; but you cannot restore a single hair of the heads of the
men whom you have put to death." The commissioners were much struck with
the way in which Macedonius uttered this, although they did not
understand what he said (as he spoke in the Syrian language); and when
his words were explained to them in Greek, they agreed that one of them
should go to the emperor, to tell him how things were at Antioch, and to
beg for further instructions.

In the mean time, Bishop Flavian had made his way to the emperor's
presence. Theodosius received him with kindness, and spoke calmly of the
favour which he had always shown to Antioch, and of the base return
which the citizens had made for it. The bishop wept bitterly when he
heard this. He owned that his flock had deserved the worst of
punishments; but, he said, no punishment could be so severe as
undeserved mercy. He told the emperor that, instead of the statues which
had been thrown down, he had now the opportunity of setting up far
better monuments in the hearts of his people, by showing them
forgiveness. He urged the duty of forgiveness in all the ways that he
could think of; he drew a moving picture of the misery of the
inhabitants of Antioch, which he could not bear to see again; and he
declared that, unless he gained the favour which he had come to beg for,
he would never return to his city.

Theodosius was moved almost to tears by the old man's words. "What
wonder is it," he said, "if I, who am but a man, should pardon my
fellow-men, when the Maker of the world has come on earth, and has
submitted to death, for the forgiveness of mankind?" and he pressed
Flavian to return to Antioch with all speed, for the comfort of his
people. The bishop, on reaching home, found that his sister, whom he had
not hoped to see any more in this world, was recovered; and we may well
imagine that his flock were full of gratitude to him for what he had
done. But he refused all thanks or credit on account of the success of
his mission. "It was not my doing," he said: "it was God who softened
the emperor's heart."

PART II.

When Chrysostom had been chief preacher of Antioch about twelve years,
the bishopric of Constantinople fell vacant (A.D. 397); and there was so
much strife for it, that at length the people, as the only way of
settling the matter quietly, begged the emperor Arcadius to name a
bishop for them. Now it happened that the emperor's