he has spoken no word, for indeed the spectacle before us to-day is noteworthy, and I see here as many people collected together as in the holy Easter festival. He in his silence has called them; his deeds have spoken louder than the voice of a trumpet. You have come here, virgins from your chambers, women from your drawing-rooms, men leaving the marketplace deserted, that you may contemplate human nature convicted, and see the perishableness of earthly things laid bare, the shameful spectacle of that which was yesterday, and but lately so brilliant. So much for the success born of avarice, which is more shamefaced than any old woman’s blotches: the change of fortune has passed over it like a sponge, and wiped away both paint and titles. Such is the power of this catastrophe: it has made him who was conspicuous and illustrious now appear more miserable than all. If the rich man come in, he will be taught much, for, contemplating him, who had the whole world at his command, thrown down from so mighty a height, trodden under foot, fallen lower than a hare or a frog, fastened without chains to this pillar, and done to death by fear in his anguish though unfettered, he restrains his wrath, humbles his pride, and draws that lesson of wisdom which it behoves him to draw, from human things, and so goes away, learning by facts what the Scripture speaks of in the words, _All flesh is grass, and all human glory as the flower of the field_, that the grass has been burnt up and the flower thrown away: that man shall be burnt up as swiftly as grass, and trodden under foot as quickly as the flower of the field: that our days are like smoke, and so on. In his turn, the poor man comes in, and, gazing at this spectacle, he does not despair of himself, nor is he afflicted at his own poverty, but he is thankful to his neediness for providing him with a place of refuge, and a calm harbour, and a wall of strength. And often, seeing these things, he would prefer to remain where he is, rather than to have all things for a short time, and then to be in danger of his life. See you how this man’s flight hither is no small advantage to the rich and poor alike, to small people and great people, to bondsmen and freemen? See how each one has gone away with his own lesson drawn from the sight alone? Now, have I succeeded in softening your passion and putting an end to your anger? Have I extinguished your inhumanity and enkindled sympathy within you? Indeed, I think so, for your faces show it, and your tears. If, then, your stony hearts have been softened and mellowed, put forth also the fruit of alms-giving, and, showing the ear of sympathy, let us solicit the emperor, or rather let us call upon our merciful God to mitigate the emperor’s wrath, and to make him kind, so that he may grant us a full pardon. Already, indeed, since the day of his flight, there has been no small change; for when the emperor learnt