toms of Cerinthus and Apollinaris, who guarded the opposite issues
of the theological labyrinth. As soon as they beheld the twilight of
sense and heresy, they started, measured back their steps, and were
again involved in the gloom of impenetrable orthodoxy. To purge
themselves from the guilt or reproach of damnable error, they
disavowed their consequences, explained their principles, excused their
indiscretions, and unanimously pronounced the sounds of concord and
faith. Yet a latent and almost invisible spark still lurked among the
embers of controversy: by the breath of prejudice and passion, it
was quickly kindled to a mighty flame, and the verbal disputes of the
Oriental sects have shaken the pillars of the church and state.

The name of Cyril of Alexandria is famous in controversial story, and
the title of _saint_ is a mark that his opinions and his party have
finally prevailed. In the house of his uncle, the archbishop Theophilus,
he imbibed the orthodox lessons of zeal and dominion, and five years of
his youth were profitably spent in the adjacent monasteries of
Nitria. Under the tuition of the abbot Serapion, he applied himself
to ecclesiastical studies, with such indefatigable ardor, that in the
course of _one_ sleepless night, he has perused the four Gospels, the
Catholic Epistles, and the Epistle to the Romans. Origen he detested;
but the writings of Clemens and Dionysius, of Athanasius and Basil, were
continually in his hands: by the theory and practice of dispute, his
faith was confirmed and his wit was sharpened; he extended round his
cell the cobwebs of scholastic theology, and meditated the works of
allegory and metaphysics, whose remains, in seven verbose folios, now
peaceably slumber by the side of their rivals. Cyril prayed and fasted
in the desert, but his thoughts (it is the reproach of a friend) were
still fixed on the world; and the call of Theophilus, who summoned
him to the tumult of cities and synods, was too readily obeyed by the
aspiring hermit. With the approbation of his uncle, he assumed the
office, and acquired the fame, of a popular preacher. His comely person
adorned the pulpit; the harmony of his voice resounded in the cathedral;
his friends were stationed to lead or second the applause of the
congregation; and the hasty notes of the scribes preserved his
discourses, which in their effect, though not in their composition,
might be compared with those of the Athenian orators. The death