John Chrysostom, Homilies on Ephesians

As bees187 [Chrysostom seems to have observed everything, and he had the “homiletical habit,” as Dr. Shedd calls it (Hom. p. 108), in gathering material for illustration. What has been said of a great modern preacher, may be said of Chrysostom: “He watched ships and sailors; he acquainted himself with the customs, good and bad, of commercial life; he curiously inspected a great variety of mechanical processes; he closely observed agricultural operations, and the various phases of rural life; he constantly saw and heard what occurred in his own home and other homes; and always and everywhere he asked himself, What is this like? what will this illustrate?” Dr. Broadus, in Preparation and Delivery of Sermons.—G.A.] will never settle down in an unclean vessel,—and this is the reason why those who are skilled in these matters sprinkle the spot with perfumes, and scented ointments, and sweet odors; and the wicker baskets also, in which they will have to settle as soon as they come out of the hives they sprinkle with fragrant wines, and all other sweets, that there may be no noisome smell to annoy them, and drive them away again,—so in truth is it also with the Holy Spirit. Our soul is a sort of vessel or basket, capable of receiving the swarms of spiritual gifts; but if there shall be within it gall, and “bitterness, and wrath,” the swarms will fly away. Hence this blessed and wise husbandman well and thoroughly cleanses our vessels, withholding neither knife nor any other instrument of iron, and invites us to this spiritual swarm; and as he gathers it, he cleanses us with prayers, and labors, and all the rest. Mark then how he cleanses out our heart. He has banished lying, he has banished anger. Now, again, he is pointing out how that evil may be yet more entirely eradicated; if we be not, saith he, “bitter” in spirit. For it is as is wont to happen with our bile, if there chance to be but little of it, there will be but little disturbance if the receptacle should burst: but if ever the strength and acridness of this quality becomes excessive, the vessel which before held it, containing it no longer, is as if it were eaten through by a scorching fire, and it is no longer able to hold it and contain it within its appointed bounds, but, rent asunder by its intense sharpness, it lets it escape and injure the whole body. And it is like some very fierce and frightful wild beast, that has been brought into a city; as long as it is confined in the cages made for it, however it may rage, however it may roar, it will be unable to do harm to any one; but if it is overcome by rage, and breaks through the intervening bars, and is able to leap out, it fills the city with all sorts of confusion and disturbance, and puts everybody to flight. Such indeed is the nature also of bile. As long as it is kept within its proper limits, it will do us no great mischief; but as soon as ever the membrane that incloses it bursts, and there is nothing to hinder its being at once dispersed over the whole system, then, I say, at that moment, though it be so very trifling in quantity,188 [This seems to be in direct contradiction to what is said a few lines above, to wit, “If there chance to be but little of it, there will be but little disturbance if the receptacle should burst.” The text in the former passage is in great uncertainty, however, and confusion. Field calls it a locus conclamatus. Perhaps, if the true text of that passage could be recovered, it would not be in conflict with the passage here.—G.A.] yet by reason of the inordinate strength of its quality it taints all the other elements of our nature with its own peculiar virulence. For finding the blood, for instance, near to it, alike in place and in quality, and rendering the heat which is in that blood more acrid, and everything else in fact which is near it; passing from its just temperature it overflows its bounds, turns all into gall, and therewith at once attacks likewise the other parts of the body; and thus infusing into all its own poisonous quality, it renders the man speechless, and causes him to expire, expelling life. Now, why have I stated all these things with such minuteness? It is in order that, understanding from this bitterness which is of the body the intolerable evil of that bitterness which is of the soul, and how entirely it destroys first of all the very soul that engenders it, making everything bitter, we may escape experience of it. For as the one inflames the whole constitution, so does the other the thoughts, and carries away its captive to the abyss of hell. In order then that by carefully examining these matters we may escape this evil, and bridle the monster, or rather utterly root it out, let us hearken to what Paul saith, “Let all bitterness be” (not destroyed, but) “put away” from you. For what need have I of trouble to restrain it, what necessity is there to keep watch on a monster, when it is in my power to expel him from my soul, to remove him and drive him out, as it were, into banishment? Let us hearken then to Paul when he saith, “Let all bitterness be put away from you.” But, ah, the perversity that possesses us! Though we ought to do everything to effect this, yet are there some so truly senseless as to congratulate themselves upon this evil, and to pride themselves upon it, and to glory in it, and who are envied by others. “Such a one,” say they, “is a bitter man, he is a scorpion, a serpent, a viper.” They look upon him as one to be feared. But wherefore, good man, dost thou fear the bitter person? “I fear,” you say, “lest he injure me, lest he destroy me; I am not proof against his malice, I am afraid lest he should take me who am a simple man, and unable to foresee any of his schemes, and throw me into his snares, and entangle us in the toils which he has set to deceive us.” Now I cannot but smile. And why forsooth? Because these are the arguments of children, who fear things which are not to be feared. Surely there is nothing we ought so to despise, nothing we ought so to laugh to scorn, as a bitter and malicious man. For there is nothing so powerless189 [Compare Prov. xxv. 28.—G.A.] as bitterness. It makes men fools and senseless.

Do ye not see that malice is blind? Have ye never heard, that he that diggeth a pit for his neighbors, diggeth it for himself? How, it may be said, ought we not to fear a soul full of tumult? If indeed we are to fear the bitter in the same way as we fear evil spirits, and fools and madmen, (for they indeed do everything at random,) I grant it myself; but if we are to fear them as men skillful in the conduct of affairs, that never. For nothing is so necessary for the proper conduct of affairs as prudence; and there is no greater hindrance to prudence than wickedness, and malice, and hollowness. Look at bilious persons, how unsightly they are, with all their bloom withered away. How weak they are, and puny, and unfit for anything. So also are souls of this nature. What else is wickedness, but a jaundice of the soul? Wickedness then has no strength in it, indeed it has not. Have ye a mind that I again make what I am saying plain to you by an instance, by setting before you the portraits of a treacherous and a guileless man? Absalom was a treacherous man, and “stole all men’s hearts.” (2 Sam. xv. 6.) And observe how great was his treachery. “He went about,” it saith, “and said, ‘Hast thou no judgment?’”190 [μὴ ἔστι σοι κρίσις; but Sept. (2 Sam. xv. 3.) has ὁἀκούων οὐκ ἔστι σοι παρὰ τοῦ βασιλέως, which is well rendered by the Rev. Ver., “But there is no man deputed of the king to hear thee.”—G.A.] wishing to conciliate every one to himself. But David was guileless. What then? Look at the end of them both, look, how full of utter madness was the former! For inasmuch as he looked solely to the hurt of his father, in all other things he was blinded. But not so David. For “he that walketh uprightly, walketh surely” (Prov. x. 9.); and reasonably; he is one that manages nothing over-subtilely, the man who devises no evil. Let us listen then to the blessed Paul, and let us pity, yea, let us weep for the bitter-minded, and let us practice every method, let us do everything to extirpate this vice from their souls. For how is it not absurd, that when there is bile within us (though that indeed is a useful element, for without bile a man cannot possibly exist, that bile, I mean, which is an element of his nature,) how then, I say, is it not absurd that we should do all we can to get rid of this, though we are so highly benefited by it; and yet that we should do nothing, nor take any pains, to get rid of that which is in the soul, though it is in no case beneficial, but even in the highest degree injurious. He that thinketh that he is “wise among you,” saith he, “let him become a fool, that he may become wise.” (1 Cor. iii. 18.) Hearken too again to what Luke saith, “They did take their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people.” (Acts ii. 46, 47.) Why, do we not see even now that the simple and guileless enjoy the common esteem of all? No one envies such an one when he is in prosperity, no one tramples upon him when he is in adversity, but all rejoice with him when he does well, and grieve with him in misfortune. Whereas whenever a bitter man fares prosperously, one and all lament it, as though some evil thing happened; but if he is unfortunate, one and all rejoice. Let us then pity them, for they have common enemies all over the world. Jacob was a guileless man, yet he overcame the treacherous Esau. “For into a malicious soul wisdom shall not enter.” (Wisd. i. 4.) “Let all bitterness be put away from you.” Let not even a remnant remain, for it will be sure, if stirred, as if from a smouldering brand, to turn all within to an entire blaze. Let us then distinctly understand what this bitterness is. Take, for example, the hollow-hearted man, the crafty, the man who is on the watch to do mischief, the man of evil suspicion. From him then “wrath” and “anger” are ever produced; for it is not possible for a soul like this to be in tranquillity, but the very root of “anger” and “wrath” is “bitterness.” The man of this character is both sullen, and never unbends his soul; he is always moody, always gloomy. For as I was saying, they themselves are the first to reap the fruit of their own evil ways.

“And clamor,” he adds.

What now, and dost thou take away clamor also? Yes, for the mild man must needs be of such a character, because clamor carries anger, as a horse his rider; trip the horse, and you will throw the rider.

Moral. This let women above all attend to, them who on every occasion cry aloud and bawl. There is but one thing in which it is useful to cry aloud, in preaching and in teaching. But in no other case whatever, no, not even in prayer. And if thou wouldest learn a practical lesson, never cry aloud at all, and then wilt thou never be angry at all. Behold a way to keep your temper; for as it is not possible that the man that does not cry out should be enraged, so is it not that the man who does cry out should be otherwise than enraged. For tell me not of a man being implacable, and revengeful, and of pure natural bitterness, and natural choler. We are now speaking of the sudden paroxysm of this passion.

It contributes then no little to this end, to discipline the soul never to raise the voice and cry aloud at all. Cut off clamor, and thou wilt clip the wings of anger, thou dost repress the first rising of the heart. For as it is impossible for a man to wrestle without lifting up his hands, so is it not possible that he should be entangled in a quarrel without lifting up his voice. Bind the hands of the boxer, and then bid him strike. He will be unable to do so. So likewise will wrath be disarmed. But clamor raises it, even where it does not exist. And hence it is especially that the female sex are so easily overtaken in it. Women, whenever they are angry with their maid-servants, fill the whole house with their own clamor. And oftentimes too, if the house happens to be built along a narrow street, then all the passers-by hear the mistress scolding, and the maid weeping and wailing. What can possibly be more disgraceful than the sound of those wailings?191 [We have here followed the text of three codices as against the emendations of Field, Savile, and the Benedictine ed.—G.A.] What in the world has happened there? All the women round immediately peep in and one of them says, “Such a one is beating her own maid.” Whatever can be more shameless than this? “What then, ought one not to strike at all?” No, I say not so, (for it must be done,) but then it must be neither frequently, nor immoderately, nor for any wrongs of thine own, as I am constantly saying, nor for any little failure in her service, but only if she is doing harm to her own soul. If thou chastise her for a fault of this kind, all will applaud, and there will be none to upbraid thee; but if thou do it for any reasons of thine own, all will condemn thy cruelty and harshness. And what is more base than all, there are some so fierce and so savage as to lash them to such a degree, that the bruises will not disappear with the day. For they will strip the damsels, and call their husbands for the purpose, and oftentimes tie them to the pallets. Alas! at that moment, tell me, does no recollection of hell come over thee? What? dost thou strip thy handmaid, and expose her to thy husband? And art thou not ashamed, lest he should condemn thee for it? And then dost thou exasperate him yet more, and threaten to put her in chains, having first taunted the wretched and pitiable creature with ten thousand reproachful names, and called her “Thessalian witch,192 Vid. Aristoph. Nub. 749, γυναῖκα φαρμακίδ᾽ εἰ πριάμενος Θετταλήν. Schol., μέχρι καὶ νῦν φαρμακίδες αἱ Θετταλαὶ καλοῦνται. [What a fearful picture of the cruelties of the mistresses of Chrysostom’s day!—G.A.] runaway, and prostitute”?

For her passion allows her not to spare even her own mouth, but she looks to one single object, how she may wreak her vengeance on the other, even though she disgrace herself. And then after all these things forsooth, she will sit in state like any tyrant, and call her children, and summon her foolish husband, and treat him as a hangman. Ought these things to take place in the houses of Christians? “Aye” say ye, “but slaves are a troublesome, audacious, impudent, incorrigible race.” True, I know it myself, but there are other ways to keep them in order; by terrors, by threats, by words; which may both touch her more powerfully, and save thee from disgrace. Thou who art a free woman hast uttered foul words, and dost thou not disgrace thyself more than her? Then if she shall have occasion to go out to the bath, there are bruises on her back when she is naked, and she carries about with her the marks of thy cruelty. “But,” say ye, “the whole tribe of slaves is intolerable if it meet with indulgence.” True, I know it myself. But then, as I was saying, correct them in some other way, not by the scourge only, and by terror, but even by flattering them, and by acts of kindness. If she is a believer, she is thy sister. Consider that thou art her mistress, and that she ministers unto thee. If she be intemperate, cut off the occasions of drunkenness; call thy husband, and admonish her. Or dost thou not feel how disgraceful a thing it is for a woman to be beaten? They at least who have enacted ten thousand punishments for men,—the stake, and the rack,—will scarcely ever hang a woman, but limit men’s anger to smiting her on the cheek; and so great respect have they observed towards the sex, that not even when there is absolute necessity have they often hung a woman, if she happen to be pregnant. For it is a disgrace for a man to strike a woman; and if for a man, much more for one of her own sex. It is moreover by these things that women become odious to their husbands. “What then,” ye may say, “if she shall act the harlot?” Marry her to a husband; cut off the occasions of fornication, suffer her not to be too high fed. “What then, if she shall steal?” Take care of her, and watch her.—“Extravagant!” thou wilt say; “What, am I to be her keeper? How absurd!” And why, I pray, art thou not to be her keeper? Has she not the same kind of soul as thou? Has she not been vouchsafed the same privileges by God? Does she not partake of the same table? Does she not share with thee the same high birth? “But what then,” ye will say, “if she shall be a railer, or a gossip, or a drunkard?” Yet, how many free women are such? Now, with all the failings of women God hath charged men to bear: only, He saith, let not a woman be an harlot, but every other failing besides bear with. Yea, be she drunkard, or railer, or gossip, or evil-eyed, or extravagant, and a squanderer of thy substance, thou hast her for the partner of thy life. Train and restrain her. Necessity is upon thee. It is for this thou art the head. Regulate her therefore, do thy own part. Yea, and if she remain incorrigible, yea, though she steal, take care of thy goods, and do not punish her so much. If she be a gossip, silence her. This is the very highest philosophy.

Now, however, some are come to such a height of indecency as to uncover the head, and to drag their maid-servants by the hair.—Why do ye all blush?193 [This is direct preaching. Some would call it personal. But as Daniel Webster said of preaching, so ought we “make it a personal matter, a personal matter, a personal matter.”—G.A.] I am not addressing myself to all, but to those who are carried away into such brutal conduct. Paul saith, “Let not a woman be uncovered.” (1 Cor. xi. 5–15.) And dost thou then entirely strip off her headdress? Dost thou see how thou art doing outrage to thyself? If indeed she makes her appearance to thee with her head bare, thou callest it an insult. And dost thou say that there is nothing shocking when thou barest it thyself? Then ye will say, “What if she be not corrected?” Chasten her then with the rod and with stripes. And yet how many failings hast thou also thyself, and yet thou art not corrected! These things I am saying not for their sakes, but for the sake of you free-women, that ye do nothing so unworthy, nothing to disgrace you, that ye do yourselves no wrong.194 [And what a graceful and conciliatory turn he gives his discourse here!—G.A.] If thou wilt learn this lesson in thy household in dealing with thy maid-servant, and not be harsh but gentle and forbearing, much more wilt thou be so in thy behavior to thy husband. For she who, though having authority, does nothing of the sort, will do it much less where there is a check. So that the discipline employed about your maid-servants, will be of the greatest service to you in gaining the goodwill of your husbands. “For with what measure ye mete,” He saith, “it shall be measured unto you.” (Matt. vii. 2.) Set a bridle upon thy mouth. If thou art disciplined to bear bravely with a servant when she answers back, thou wilt not be annoyed with the insolence of an equal, and in being above annoyance, wilt have attained to the highest philosophy. But some there are who add even oaths, but there is nothing more shocking than a woman so enraged. But what again, ye will say, if she dress gaily? Why then, forbid this; thou hast my consent; but check it by first beginning with thyself, not so much by fear as by example. Be in everything thyself a perfect pattern.

“And let railing,” saith he, “be put away from you.” Observe the progress of mischief. Bitterness produces wrath, wrath anger, anger clamor, clamor railing, that is, revilings; next from evil-speaking it goes on to blows, from blows to wounds, from wounds to death. Paul, however, did not wish to mention any of these, but only this, “let this,” saith he, “be put away from you, with all malice.”195 [κακία: “‘Malice,’ the genus to which all the above-mentioned vices belong, or rather the active principle to which they are all due,—animi pravitas, humanitati et equitati opposita (Calvin).”—Ellicott.—G.A.] What is “with all malice”? It ends with this. For there are some, like those dogs that bite secretly, which do not bark at all at those that come near them, nor are angry, but which fawn, and display a gentle aspect; but when they catch us off our guard, will fix their teeth in us. These are more dangerous than those that take up open enmity. Now since there are men too that are dogs, who neither cry out, nor fly in a passion, nor threaten us when they are offended, yet in secret are weaving plots, and contriving ten thousand mischiefs, and revenging themselves not in words but in deeds; he hints at these. Let those things be put away from you, saith he, “with all malice.” Do not spare thy words, and then revenge thyself in acts. My purpose in chastising my tongue and curtailing its clamor, is to prevent its kindling up a more violent blaze. But if thou without any clamor art doing the same thing, and art cherishing the fire and the live coals within, where is the good of thy silence? Dost thou not know that those conflagrations are the most destructive of all which are fed within, and appear not to those that are without? And that those wounds are the deadliest which never break out to the surface; and those fevers the worst which burn up the vitals? So also is this anger the most dangerous that preys upon the soul. But let this too be put away from you, saith he, “with all malice,” of every kind and degree, great and little. Let us then hearken to him, let us cast out all “bitterness and all malice,” that we “grieve not the Holy Spirit.” Let us destroy all bitterness; let us cut it up by the very roots. Nothing good, nothing healthful, can ever come from a bitter soul; nothing but misfortunes, nothing but tears, nothing but weeping and wailing. Do ye not see those beasts that roar or cry out, how we turn away from them; the lion, for instance, and the bear? But not so from the sheep; for there is no roaring, but a mild and gentle voice. And so again with musical instruments, those which are loud and harsh are the most unpleasant to the ear, such as the drum and trumpet; whereas those which are not so, but are soothing, these are pleasant, as the flute and lyre and pipe. Let us then prepare our soul so as never to cry aloud, and thus shall we be enabled also to gain the mastery over our anger. And when we have cut out this, we ourselves shall be the first to enjoy the calm, and we shall sail into that peaceful haven, which God grant we may all attain, in Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom, together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father, glory, might, and honor, now, and ever, and throughout all ages. Amen.

ΟΜΙΛΙΑ ΙΕʹ. Πᾶσα πικρία καὶ θυμὸς, καὶ ὀργὴ, καὶ κραυγὴ, καὶ βλασφημία ἀρθήτω ἀφ' ὑμῶν σὺν πάσῃ κακίᾳ. αʹ. Ὥσπερ εἰς σκεῦος ἀκάθαρτον οὐκ ἄν ποτε ἑαυτὰς καθεῖεν αἱ μέλισσαι: διὰ γὰρ τοῦτο καὶ θυμιάμασι καὶ μύροις καὶ εὐωδίαις τὸν τόπον καταῤῥαίνουσιν οἱ περὶ ταῦτα δεινοὶ, οἴνοις τε εὐώδεσι καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἅπασι τοὺς καλαθίσκους, ἐν οἷς ἂν μέλλουσιν ἄρτι τῶν σμηνῶν ἐξιοῦσαι ἐνιζάνειν, ὥστε μὴ τὴν ἀηδῆ ὀσμὴν λυπήσασαν αὐτὰς ἀποστῆσαι πάλιν: οὕτω δὴ καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦ Πνεύματός ἐστι τοῦ ἁγίου. Ἀγγεῖόν τί ἐστιν ἡ ἡμετέρα ψυχὴ καὶ καλαθίσκος, τὰ σμήνη τῶν χαρισμάτων τῶν πνευματικῶν ὑποδέξασθαι δυναμένη: ἀλλ' ἐὰν ᾖ ἔνδον χολὴ καὶ πικρία καὶ θυμὸς, τὰ σμήνη ἀφίπταται. Διὰ τοῦτο ὁ μακάριος οὗτος καὶ σοφὸς γεωργὸς διακαθαίρει καλῶς ἡμῶν τὰ σκεύη, οὐ δρέπανον, οὐδέ τι ἄλλο σκεῦος σιδηροῦν κατέχων: καὶ καλεῖ ἡμᾶς ἐπὶ τὸ πνευματικὸν τοῦτο σμῆνος, καὶ συνάγων αὐτὸ διακαθαίρει εὐχαῖς καὶ πόνοις καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἅπασιν. Ὅρα οὖν πῶς ἡμῶν ἐκκαθαίρει τὴν καρδίαν: ἀπήλασε τὸ ψεῦδος, ἀπήλασε τὴν ὀργήν. Δείκνυσι πάλιν πῶς ἂν μᾶλλον πρόῤῥιζον ἀνασπασθείη τὸ κακόν: ἂν μὴ ὦμεν, φησὶ, πικροὶ τὴν διάνοιαν. Καθάπερ γὰρ ἐπὶ τῆς χολῆς συμβαίνειν εἴωθε τῆς ἡμετέρας, ἂν μὲν ὀλίγη τύχῃ τις οὖσα, ὀλίγη καὶ ἡ κίνησις γίνεται ἐκραγέντος τοῦ ταμιείου: ὅταν δὲ πλεονάσῃ τὸ σφοδρὸν τῆς τοιαύτης ποιότητος καὶ δηκτικὸν, οὐκέτι στέγει τὸ φέρον αὐτὴν πρότερον ἀγγεῖον, ἀλλὰ καθάπερ πυρὸς σφοδροῦ διαβρωθὲν οὐκέτι οἷόν τέ ἐστι στέγειν αὐτὴν καὶ κατέχειν ἐν τοῖς ὡρισμένοις ὅροις, ἀλλὰ διασπασθὲν ὑπὸ τῆς ἀμέτρου δριμύτητος ἀφίησιν ἐξελθοῦσαν παντὶ τῷ σώματι λυμαίνεσθαι: καὶ καθάπερ εἰς πόλιν ἐνεχθὲν θηρίον χαλεπώτατον καὶ ἀφόρητον, ἕως μὲν ἂν ἔνδον ἐν ταῖς πεποιημέναις εἱρκταῖς κατέχηται, οὐδὲν, κἂν ἀγριαίνῃ, κἂν κράζῃ, οὐδένα βλάψαι δυνήσεται: ὅταν δὲ τῷ θυμῷ κρατηθῇ, καὶ διακλάσας τοὺς διὰ μέσου βεβλημένους κανόνας ἐκπηδῆσαι δυνηθῇ, παντὸς θορύβου τὴν πόλιν ἐμπίπλησι καὶ ταραχῆς, καὶ πάντας ἀπελαύνει: οὕτω δὴ καὶ τῆς χολῆς ἡ φύσις: ἕως μὲν ἂν ἐν τοῖς οἰκείοις ὅροις κατέχηται, οὐδὲν μέγα ἡμᾶς ἐργάζεται κακόν: ἐπειδὰν δὲ ἐκραγέντος τοῦ περιέχοντος αὐτὴν ὑμένος, οὐδὲν ᾖ τὸ κωλύον λοιπὸν εἰς πᾶσαν διαχυθῆναι τὴν φύσιν, τότε δὴ, τότε, καίτοι οὕτω σφόδρα μικρὸν ὂν τῇ ποσότητι, διὰ τὴν ὑπερβάλλουσαν ἐν τῇ ποιότητι δύναμιν πάντα τὰ ἄλλα στοιχεῖα τῆς οἰκείας ἀναχρώννυσι κακίας. Τότε γὰρ δὴ αἷμα εὑροῦσα πλησίον τῷ τε τόπῳ καὶ τῇ ποιότητι, καὶ τὴν ἐν ἐκείνῳ θερμότητα δριμυτέραν ἐργαζομένη, καὶ τὸ ἐγγύθεν πᾶν ὅπερ ἐστὶν, ἀπὸ τῆς κατὰ τὴν ὑγρότητα συμμετρίας ὑπερβαῖνον τοὺς ὅρους καὶ χολὰς ἐργαζόμενον, μετὰ τούτου λοιπὸν καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἐπιστρατεύεται μέλεσι, καὶ οὕτω πάντα εἰς τὴν οἰκείαν ἐνθεῖσα πονηρίαν, ἄφωνον ἐργάζεται τὸν ἄνθρωπον, καὶ ἀποπνεῖν ποιεῖ, τὴν ψυχὴν ἀπελαύνουσα. Τί δὴ ταῦτα ἡμῖν ἅπαντα οὕτω. μετὰ ἀκριβείας εἴρηται; Ἵνα ἀπὸ τῆς πικρίας τῆς αἰσθητῆς, τῆς πικρίας τῆς νοητῆς τὴν ἀφόρητον αἰσθόμενοι κακίαν, καὶ ὡς ὁλόκληρον τὴν τίκτουσαν ψυχὴν πρῶτον λυμαίνεται, πάντα ἄνω καὶ κάτω ποιοῦσα, φύγωμεν αὐτῆς τὴν πεῖραν. Καθάπερ γὰρ αὕτη τὸ στοιχεῖον ὅλον, οὕτως ἐκείνη τοὺς λογισμοὺς ἐμπρήσασα, εἰς τὸ τῆς γεέννης ἀπάγει βάραθρον τὸν ἁλόντα. Ἵν' οὖν ταῦτα ἀκριβῶς διερευνώμενοι, τοῦτο φύγωμεν τὸ κακὸν, καὶ χαλινώσωμεν τὸ θηρίον, μᾶλλον δὲ πρόῤῥιζον ἀνασπάσωμεν, τῷ Παύλῳ πειθώμεθα λέγοντι: Πᾶσα πικρία, οὐχὶ καθαιρέσθω, ἀλλὰ ἀρθήτω ἀφ' ὑμῶν. Τί γάρ μοι δεῖ πραγμάτων καὶ κατοχῆς; τί δὲ χρὴ φυλάττειν θηρίον, ἐξὸν ἀποικίσαι τῆς ψυχῆς καὶ μεταστῆσαι, καὶ εἰς ὑπερορίαν τινὰ ἀπαγαγεῖν; Πειθώμεθα τοίνυν τῷ Παύλῳ λέγοντι: Πᾶσα πικρία ἀρθήτω ἀφ' ὑμῶν. Ἀλλ' οἴμοι τῆς κατεχούσης ἡμᾶς διαστροφῆς: δέον ἅπαντα ἐπὶ τούτῳ ποιεῖν, οὕτω τινές εἰσιν ὄντως ἀνόητοι, ὥστε καὶ ἑαυτοὺς ἐν τούτῳ μακαρίζειν, καὶ ἐναβρύνεσθαι τῷ κακῷ, καὶ ἐγκαλλωπίζεσθαι, καὶ παρ' ἑτέρων ζηλοῦσθαι. Πικρὸς, φησὶν, ἄνθρωπος ὁ δεῖνα, σκορπίος ἐστὶν, ὄφις ἐστὶν, ἔχις: φοβερὸν νομίζουσιν αὐτόν. Τί δέδοικας τὸν πικρὸν, ἄνθρωπε; Μὴ βλάψῃ, φησὶ, μὴ λυμήνηται: ἄπειρος ἐγὼ τῆς ἐκείνου κακίας εἰμί: δέδοικα μή με λαβὼν ἁπλοῦν ἄνθρωπον, καὶ οὐδὲν τῶν αὐτοῦ προορώμενον, εἰς τὰς πάγας ἐμβάλῃ τὰς αὑτοῦ, καὶ τοῖς δικτύοις ἡμᾶς συμποδίσῃ τοῖς ἡτοιμασμένοις αὐτῷ πρὸς ἡμετέραν ἀπάτην. Γελῶ νῦν. Τί δήποτε; Ὅτι παίδων ἐστὶ ταῦτα τὰ ῥήματα, τὰ μὴ φοβερὰ φοβουμένων. Οὐδενὸς μὲν οὖν οὕτω δεῖ καταφρονεῖν, οὐδενὸς οὕτω καταγελᾷν, ὡς ἀνθρώπου πικροῦ καὶ πονηροῦ. Οὐδὲν γὰρ οὕτως ἀσθενὲς, ὡς πικρία: μωροὺς ποιεῖ καὶ ἀνοήτους. βʹ. Ἢ οὐχ ὁρᾶτε ὅτι τυφλὸν ἡ κακία; ἢ οὐκ ἠκούσατε, ὅτι ὁ ὀρύσσων βόθρον τῷ πλησίον, ἑαυτῷ ὀρύσσει; πῶς οὖν οὐ χρὴ φοβεῖσθαι ψυχὴν ταραχῆς ἐμπεπλησμένην; Εἰ μὲν οὖν, ὡς δαίμονας καὶ μαινομένους, χρὴ καὶ τοὺς πικροὺς φοβεῖσθαι, καὶ ὡς τοὺς μωροὺς (καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνοι ἁπλῶς ἅπαντα ποιοῦσι), φημὶ κἀγώ: εἰ δὲ ὡς δεινοὺς πράγμασι χρῆσθαι, τοῦτο οὐκέτι. Οὐδὲν γὰρ οὕτω πρὸς πραγμάτων οἰκονομίαν ἐπιτήδειον, ὡς σύνεσις: οὐδὲν οὕτω συνέσεως ἐμπόδιον, ὡς πονηρία καὶ κακία, καὶ τὸ ὕπουλον. Οὐχ ὁρᾶτε τὰ σώματα τὰ χολερικὰ, πῶς ἐστιν ἀειδῆ, παντὸς ἄνθους μαρανθέντος ἐν αὐτοῖς; πῶς ἐστιν ἀσθενῆ καὶ λεπτὰ, καὶ πρὸς πάντα ἀνεπιτήδεια; Τοιαῦταί εἰσι καὶ αἱ ψυχαὶ αἱ τοιαῦται. Ἴκτερος γὰρ ψυχῆς οὐδὲν ἕτερόν ἐστιν, ἀλλ' ἢ πονηρία. Οὐκ ἔστιν οὖν ἰσχυρὸν ἡ πονηρία, οὐκ ἔστι. Βούλεσθε πάλιν καὶ ἐπὶ ὑποδείγματος, ὃ λέγω, ποιήσω φανερὸν, κακούργου καὶ ἀπλάστου παραγαγὼν ὑμῖν εἰκόνας; Κακοῦργος ἦν ὁ Ἀβεσσαλὼμ, καὶ πάντας ἰδιοποιεῖτο: ὅρα οὖν ὅση ἦν ἡ κακουργία. Περιιὼν, φησὶν, ἔλεγε, Μὴ ἔστι σοι κρίσις; οἰκειώσασθαι ἕκαστον βουλόμενος. Ὁ δὲ Δαυῒδ ἄπλαστος. Τί οὖν; Ὅρα ἀμφοτέρων τὸ τέλος, ὅρα πόσης ἔγεμεν ἐκεῖνος ἀνοίας. Ἐπειδὴ γὰρ πρὸς τὴν βλάβην ἑώρα μόνην τοῦ πατρὸς, ἐν τοῖς ἄλλοις τετύφλωτο πᾶσιν. Ἀλλ' οὐχ ὁ Δαυΐδ. Ὁ πορευόμενος γὰρ ἁπλῶς, πορεύεται πεποιθώς. Τουτέστιν, ὁ μηδὲν περιεργαζόμενος, ὁ μηδὲν κατασκευάζων κακόν. Πειθώμεθα τοίνυν τῷ μακαρίῳ Παύλῳ, καὶ ἐλεῶμεν καὶ δακρύωμεν τοὺς πικροὺς, καὶ πάντα πράττωμεν καὶ ποιῶμεν, ὥστε αὐτῶν ἀπὸ τῆς ψυχῆς ἐξαντλῆσαι τὴν πονηρίαν. Πῶς γὰρ οὐκ ἄτοπον, χολῆς μὲν ἡμῖν ἐνούσης (καίτοι γε χρήσιμον τοῦτο τὸ στοιχεῖον: χωρὶς γὰρ χολῆς ἄνθρωπον εἶναι οὐ δυνατὸν, ταύτης δὴ λέγω τῆς στοιχειώδους): πῶς οὐκ ἄτοπον ταύτην μὲν κενοῦν κατὰ δύναμιν, καίτοι μεγάλα παρ' αὐτῆς ὠφελουμένους: τὴν δὲ ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ μηδὲν ποιεῖν μηδὲ σπουδάζειν ὥστε κενοῦν, οὐδαμοῦ χρήσιμον οὖσαν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ μέγιστα ἀδικοῦσαν; Ὁ βουλόμενος, φησὶν, εἶναι σοφὸς ἐν ὑμῖν, γενέσθω μωρὸς, ἵνα γένηται σοφός. Ἄκουε πάλιν καὶ τοῦ Λουκᾶ λέγοντος: Μετελάμβανον τροφῆς ἐν ἀγαλλιάσει καὶ ἀφελότητι καρδίας, αἰνοῦντες τὸν Θεὸν, καὶ εἶχον χάριν πρὸς ὅλον τὸν λαόν. Ἢ οὐχ ὁρῶμεν καὶ νῦν τοὺς ἀφελεῖς καὶ ἀπλάστους κοινῆς τιμῆς παρὰ πάντων ἀπολαύοντας; Οὐδεὶς τῷ τοιούτῳ φθονεῖ εὐπραγοῦντι, οὐδεὶς ἐπεμβαίνει δυσπραγοῦντι: ἀλλὰ πάντες καὶ καλῶς πράττοντι συγχαίρουσι, καὶ πταίσαντι συναλγοῦσιν. Ἂν δὲ πικρὸς ἅνθρωπος εὐημερήσῃ ποτὲ, ὡς κακοῦ τινος συμβάντος, ἅπαντες στένουσι: κἂν δυσπραγήσῃ πάλιν, ἅπαντες χαίρουσιν. Ἐλεῶμεν οὖν αὐτούς: ἔχουσι γὰρ κοινοὺς ἐχθροὺς πανταχοῦ περιιόντας. Ὁ Ἰακὼβ ἄπλαστος ἦν, ἀλλὰ τὸν κακοῦργον Ἡσαῦ ἐνίκησεν: Εἰς κακότεχνον γὰρ ψυχὴν οὐκ εἰσελεύσεται σοφία. Πᾶσα πικρία ἀρθήτω ἀφ' ὑμῶν: μηδὲ λείψανον μενέτω. Οἶδε γὰρ τοῦτο κινηθὲν, καθάπερ ἀπὸ σπινθῆρός τινος, ὁλόκληρον ἔνδον ποιῆσαι πυράν. Τί τοίνυν ἐστὶν ἡ πικρία κατανοήσωμεν ἀκριβῶς: οἷον ὁ ὕπουλος ἀνὴρ, ὁ δολερὸς, ὁ πρὸς τὸ κακοποιεῖν παρεσκευασμένος, ὁ καχύποπτος: ἀπὸ δὴ τούτου ἀεὶ θυμὸς καὶ ὀργὴ τίκτεται. Οὐ γὰρ ἔστιν ἐν γαλήνῃ τὴν τοιαύτην εἶναι ψυχήν: ῥίζα γὰρ θυμοῦ καὶ ὀργῆς πικρία. Ὁ τοιοῦτος καὶ βαρύθυμός ἐστιν, καὶ οὐδέποτε ἀνίησι τὴν ψυχὴν, ἀεὶ σύννους ὢν, ἀεὶ σκυθρωπός. Ὅπερ γὰρ ἔφην, αὐτοὶ πρῶτοι καρποῦνται τὰ ἑαυτῶν κακά. Καὶ κραυγὴ, φησί. Τί δήποτε; καὶ κραυγὴν ἀναιρεῖς; Τὸν γὰρ ἤπιον τοιοῦτον εἶναι χρή. Ἵππος γάρ ἐστιν ἀναβάτην φέρων, ἡ κραυγὴ τὴν ὀργήν: συμπόδισον τὸν ἵππον, καὶ κατέστρεψας τὸν ἐπιβάτην. Ἀκουέτωσαν ταῦτα μάλιστα γυναῖκες, αἱ ἐν παντὶ πράγματι κράζουσαι καὶ βοῶσαι. Ἐν ἑνὶ χρήσιμον τὸ κράζειν μόνον, ἐν τῷ κηρύττειν καὶ διδάσκειν, ἀλλαχοῦ δὲ οὐδαμοῦ, ἀλλ' οὔτε ἐν εὐχῇ. Καὶ εἰ βούλει μαθεῖν διὰ τῶν πραγμάτων, μηδέποτε κράζῃς, καὶ οὐδέποτε ὀργισθήσῃ: ἰδοὺ τρόπος ἀοργησίας. Ὥσπερ γὰρ οὐκ ἔνι τὸν μὴ κράζοντα ὀργισθῆναι, οὕτως οὐκ ἔνι τὸν κράζοντα μὴ ὀργισθῆναι. Μὴ γάρ μοι τὸν βαρύμηνιν εἴπῃς καὶ μνησίκακον καὶ αὐτοπικρίαν καὶ αὐτοχολήν: ἡμεῖς περὶ τῆς τοῦ πάθους συναρπαγῆς διαλεγόμεθα νῦν. γʹ. Ὥστε οὐ μικρὸν πρὸς τοῦτο συμβάλλεται τὸ παιδεῦσαι τὴν ψυχὴν μηδέποτε κράζειν καὶ βοᾷν. Τὰ πτερὰ περικόπτεις τῆς ὀργῆς, τὴν κραυγὴν περιαιρῶν, τὸ οἴδημα καταστέλλεις τῆς καρδίας. Ὥσπερ γὰρ οὐκ ἔστι τὰς χεῖρας μὴ ἀντάραντα παλαίειν, οὕτως οὐκ ἔνι μὴ κράζοντα συμποδίζεσθαι. Δῆσον τοῦ πυκτεύοντος τὰς χεῖρας, καὶ κέλευσον πυκτεύειν, ἀλλ' οὐ δυνήσεται: οὕτως οὐδὲ ὁ θυμός. Ἡ δὲ κραυγὴ καὶ τὸν οὐκ ὄντα ἐξαίρει: καὶ μάλιστα ἐντεῦθεν ταχέως ἁλίσκεται τὸ τῶν γυναικῶν γένος, αἳ, ὅταν ὀργίζωνται ταῖς θεραπαινίσι, τὴν οἰκίαν ἅπασαν τῆς κραυγῆς πληροῦσι τῆς ἑαυτῶν: πολλάκις δὲ καὶ εἰ παρὰ στενωπὸν τυγχάνοι ᾠκοδομημένη ἡ οἰκία, καὶ οἱ παριόντες: ἅπαντες ἀκούουσιν αὐτῆς βοώσης, καὶ τῆς θεραπαινίδος ὀλολυζούσης. Τί τούτου γένοιτ' ἂν ἀσχημονέστερόν ποτε τοῦ κωκυτοὺς ἀκούειν; Πᾶσαι γὰρ εὐθέως διακύψασαι, Τί δὴ γέγονεν, ἐρωτῶσιν, ἐκεῖ; Ἡ δεῖνα, φησὶ, τὴν δούλην τύπτει τὴν αὑτῆς. Τί τούτου γένοιτ' ἂν ἀναισχυντότερον; Τί οὖν, οὐ χρὴ τύπτειν; Οὐ τοῦτο λέγω: δεῖ μὲν γὰρ, ἀλλὰ μήτε συνεχῶς, μήτε ἀμέτρως, μήτε ὑπὲρ τῶν οἰκείων ἀδικημάτων, ὅπερ ἀεί φημι, μήτε τῆς ὑπηρεσίας ἄν τι ἐλλείπῃ, ἀλλ' εἰ τὴν ἑαυτῆς βλάπτει ψυχήν: ἂν ὑπὲρ τοιαύτης τύπτῃς αἰτίας, ἐπαινέσονται πάντες, καὶ ὁ ἐγκαλέσων οὐδείς: ἂν δὲ ὑπὲρ τῶν σῶν, ὠμότητα πάντες καταγνώσονται καὶ ἀπήνειαν. Καὶ τὸ δὴ πάντων αἰσχρότερον, εἰσὶν οὕτως ἄγριαι καὶ ἀπηνεῖς, ὡς ἐπὶ τοσοῦτον μαστίζειν, ὡς μηδὲ αὐθημερὸν τοὺς μώλωπας σβέννυσθαι. Γυμνώσασαι γὰρ τὰς κόρας, καὶ τὸν ἄνδρα ἐπὶ τοῦτο καλέσασαι, δεσμοῦσι πολλάκις πρὸς τοῖς σκίμποσιν. Οἴμοι, οὐκ ἐπεισέρχεταί σοι ἐν ἐκείνῳ τῷ καιρῷ τῆς γεέννης, εἰπέ μοι, μνήμη; ἀλλὰ γυμνοῖς τὴν παιδίσκην, καὶ δεικνύεις τῷ ἀνδρί; καὶ οὐκ αἰσχύνῃ μή σου καταγνῷ; καὶ ἐπιπλέον αὐτὸν παροξύνεις, καὶ ἀπειλεῖς δήσειν, μυρία πρότερον λοιδορησαμένη τῇ ἀθλίᾳ καὶ ταλαιπώρῳ, Θεσσαλίδα, δραπέτριαν, προεστῶσαν καλοῦσα. Ὁ γὰρ θυμὸς οὐδὲ τοῦ οἰκείου ἀφίησι στόματος φείδεσθαι, ἀλλ' εἰς ἓν μόνον ὁρᾷ, πῶς ἐκείνην ἀμύνηται, κἂν ἑαυτὴν καταισχύνῃ. Καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα δὴ πάντα προκάθηται καθάπερ τις τύραννος, καὶ καλεῖ παῖδας, καὶ παραστησαμένη τὸν ἀνόητον ἄνδρα, καθάπερ δημίῳ αὐτῷ κέχρηται. Ταῦτα ἐν Χριστιανῶν οἰκίαις γίνεσθαι ἔδει; Ἀλλὰ πονηρὸν τὸ γένος, φησὶ, καὶ ἰταμὸν καὶ ἀναίσχυντον καὶ ἀδιόρθωτον. Οἶδα κἀγώ: ἀλλ' ἔστιν ἑτέρως ῥυθμίσαι, φόβοις, ἀπειλαῖς, ῥήμασι, κἀκείνην μειζόνως δυναμένοις δάκνειν, καὶ σὲ τῆς αἰσχύνης ἀπαλλάξαι. Αἰσχρὰ ἐφθέγξω ῥήματα ἐλευθέρα οὖσα, καὶ οὐ μᾶλλον ἐκείνην ἢ σαυτὴν καταισχύνεις; Εἶτα ἐν βαλανείῳ ἐὰν δέῃ προελθεῖν, μώλωπες κατὰ τῶν νώτων γυμνουμένης αὐτῆς, καὶ τεκμήρια περιφέρει τῆς ὠμότητος. Ἀλλ' ἀφόρητον, φησὶν, ἀνέσεως τυχὸν τὸ δουλικὸν γένος. Οἶδα κἀγώ: ἀλλ' ἑτέρως, ὅπερ ἔφην, ἐπίστρεφε, μὴ μάστιξι μόνον μηδὲ φόβῳ, ἀλλὰ καὶ κολακείᾳ καὶ τῷ εὖ ποιεῖν. Ἀδελφή σου γέγονεν, ἂν ᾖ πιστή. Ἐννόησον ὅτι σὺ δέσποινα, κἀκείνη σοι διακονεῖται. Ἂν ᾖ μέθυσος, περίελε τῆς μέθης τὰς ὑποθέσεις, τὸν ἄνδρα κάλεσον, καὶ παραίνεσον. Ἢ οὐχ ὁρᾷς πῶς αἰσχρὸν πρᾶγμα γυναῖκα τύπτεσθαι; Οἱ γοῦν μυρία κατὰ ἀνδρῶν νομοθετήσαντες, καὶ καύσεις καὶ βασάνους, σπανιάκις γυναῖκα ἀνήρτησαν, ἀλλὰ μέχρι τοῦ ῥαπίσαι τὸν θυμὸν ἱστῶσι Τοσαύτῃ δὲ κέχρηνται πρὸς τὴν φύσιν ταύτην αἰδοῖ, ὅτι οὐδὲ ἀναγκαίας χρείας οὔσης ἀνήρτησαν, καὶ μάλιστα ὅταν κύουσα τύχῃ. Αἰσχύνη γὰρ ἀνδρὶ γυναῖκα τύπτειν: εἰ δὲ ἀνδρὶ, πολλῷ μᾶλλον τῇ ὁμοφύλῳ. Ἀπὸ τούτων καὶ τοῖς ἀνδράσι γίνονται μισηταὶ αἱ γυναῖκες. Τί οὖν, φησὶν, ὅταν πορνεύῃ; Ζεῦξον ἀνδρὶ, περίελε τῆς πορνείας τὰς ὑποθέσεις, μὴ συγχώρει ὑπερμαζᾷν. Τί οὖν, ἂν κλέπτῃ; Φύλαττε καὶ παρατήρει; Ὢ τῆς ὑπερβολῆς! ἐγὼ ἔσομαι φύλαξ, φησίν. Ὢ τῆς ἀνοίας! διὰ τί, παρακαλῶ, οὐκ ἔσῃ φύλαξ; οὐχὶ τῆς αὐτῆς σοι μετέχει ψυχῆς; οὐχὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἠξίωται παρὰ τοῦ Θεοῦ; οὐ τῆς αὐτῆς ἀπολαύει τραπέζης; οὐ τῆς αὐτῆς σοι κοινωνεῖ εὐγενείας; Τί οὖν, ἂν ᾖ, φησὶ, λοίδορος καὶ λάλος καὶ μέθυσος; Πόσαι δέ εἰσιν ἐλεύθεραι τοιαῦται; Πάντα δὲ τὰ ἐλαττώματα τῶν γυναικῶν φέρειν τοὺς ἄνδρας προσέταξεν ὁ Θεός. Μόνον μὴ ἔστω, φησὶ, πόρνη ἡ γυνὴ, καὶ πάντα τὰ λοιπὰ φέρε ἐλαττώματα. Κἂν μέθυσος ᾖ, κἂν λοίδορος, κἂν λάλος, κἂν βάσκανος, κἂν πολυτελὴς, κἂν σπαθῶσα τὴν οὐσίαν, κοινωνὸν ἔχεις βίου: ῥυθμίζειν ἀνάγκην ἔχεις: διὰ τοῦτο κεφαλὴ εἶ σύ. Οὐκοῦν ῥύθμιζε, τὸ σαυτοῦ ποίει. Κἂν ἀδιόρθωτος μένῃ, κἂν κλέπτῃ, φύλαττε τὰ σά: μὴ ἐκείνην τοσοῦτον τιμωροῦ: ἂν λάλος ᾖ, ἐπιστόμιζε. Τοῦτο φιλοσοφίας ἐστὶ τῆς ἀνωτάτω. Νυνὶ δὲ εἰς τοσοῦτό τινες ἀτοπίας ἥκουσιν, ὡς ἀποκαλύπτειν τὴν κεφαλὴν, καὶ ἀπὸ τριχῶν σύρειν τὰς θεραπαινίδας. δʹ. Τί ἠρυθριάσατε πᾶσαι; Οὐ πρὸς πάσας ἡμῖν ὁ λόγος: ἀλλὰ πρὸς τὰς εἰς τὴν θηριωδίαν ἐξελκομένας ταύτην. Γυνὴ ἀκατακάλυπτος μὴ ἔστω, φησὶν ὁ Παῦλος: σὺ δὲ ὅλως τὸ κρήδεμνον περιαιρεῖς; Ὁρᾷς πῶς σαυτὴν ὑβρίζεις; Ἂν μὲν οὖν γυμνῇ φανῇ σοι τῇ κεφαλῇ ἐκείνη, ὕβριν τὸ πρᾶγμα λέγεις: σὺ δὲ αὐτὴν γυμνοῦσα, οὐδὲν δεινὸν εἶναι φής; Εἶτά φησι: Τί, ἂν μὴ διορθῶται; Ῥάβδῳ καὶ πληγαῖς σωφρόνισον. Πόσα δὲ καὶ σὺ ἔχεις ἐλαττώματα, καὶ οὐ διορθοῦσαι; Ταῦτα ἡμῖν νῦν οὐχ ὑπὲρ ἐκείνων εἴρηται, ἀλλ' ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν τῶν ἐλευθέρων, ὥστε μηδὲν ἄσεμνον, μηδὲν αἰσχρὸν ποιεῖν, ὥστε μὴ βλάπτειν ἑαυτάς. Ἐὰν ἐν οἰκίᾳ ταῦτα παιδευθῇς ἐπὶ τῆς θεραπαινίδος, καὶ προσηνὴς ᾖς καὶ μὴ χαλεπὴ, πολλῷ μᾶλλον ἐπὶ τοῦ ἀνδρὸς ἔσῃ τοιαύτη. Εἰ γὰρ ἐξουσίας οὔσης μηδὲν τοιοῦτον ἐργαζομένη δειχθῇς, πολλῷ μᾶλλον, ἔνθα τὸ κωλύον ἐστὶν, οὐδὲν ἐργάσῃ τοιοῦτον. Ὥστε ἡ περὶ τὰς θεραπαινίδας φιλοσοφία μέγιστα ὑμᾶς εἰς τὴν τῶν ἀνδρῶν εὔνοιαν ὠφελεῖ. Ὧ| γὰρ μέτρῳ μετρεῖτε, φησὶν, ἀντιμετρηθήσεται ὑμῖν. Θὲς τῷ στόματι χαλινόν: κἂν ἐγγυμνασθῇς θεραπαινίδα χαλεπαίνουσαν φέρειν γενναίως, πρὸς τὴν ὁμότιμον οὐδὲ ὑβρίζουσαν δυσχερανεῖς: μὴ δυσχεραίνουσα δὲ, τὴν ἄκραν φιλοσοφίαν κατώρθωσας. Εἰσὶ δέ τινες, αἳ καὶ ὅρκους προστιθέασιν: οὐδὲν δὲ αἰσχρότερον τῆς οὕτω θυμουμένης. Τί οὖν, ἂν καλλωπίζηται, φησί; Τοῦτο κώλυσον, καὶ ἐγὼ σύμφημι: κώλυσον δὲ, ἀπὸ σαυτῆς ἀρχομένη, μὴ φόβῳ τοσοῦτον, ὅσον ὑποδείγματι: ἔσο ἐν πᾶσιν ἀρχέτυπος εἰκών. Καὶ βλασφημία, φησὶν, ἀρθήτω ἀφ' ὑμῶν. Ὅρα πῶς πρόεισι τὸ κακόν. Ἡ πικρία τὸν θυμὸν ἔτεκεν, ὁ θυμὸς τὴν ὀργὴν, ἡ ὀργὴ τὴν κραυγὴν, ἡ κραυγὴ τὴν βλασφημίαν, τουτέστι, τὰς λοιδορίας: ἡ βλασφημία λοιπὸν πληγὰς, αἱ πληγαὶ τραύματα, τὰ τραύματα θάνατον. Ἀλλ' οὐδὲν τούτων ἠθέλησε φθέγξασθαι Παῦλος, ἀλλ' ἢ τοῦτο μόνον, Ἀρθήτω σὺν πάσῃ κακίᾳ. Τί ἐστι, Σὺν πάσῃ κακίᾳ; Πᾶσα γὰρ κακία εἰς τοῦτο τελευτᾷ. Εἰσὶ γάρ τινες καθάπερ οἱ λαθροδῆκται τῶν κυνῶν, οἳ τοὺς μὲν προσιόντας οὐδὲν ὑλακτοῦσιν, οὐδὲ δυσχεραίνουσι: σαίνοντες δὲ καὶ προσηνὲς ἐπιδεικνύμενοι σχῆμα, ἀφυλάκτους λαβόντες, τοὺς ὀδόντας ἐνέπηξαν: οὗτοι χαλεπώτεροι τῶν ἐκ φανεροῦ τὴν ἔχθραν ἀναδεχομένων. Ἐπεὶ οὖν καὶ ἄνθρωποί εἰσι κύνες, καὶ οὔτε κράζοντες, οὔτε ὀργιζόμενοι, οὔτε δυσχεραίνοντες ἀπειλοῦσι, λάθρα δὲ ῥάπτοντες δόλους, καὶ κατασκευάζοντες μυρία κακὰ, καὶ δι' ἔργων ἀμυνόμενοι, καὶ τούτους ᾐνίξατο. Ἀρθήτω ἀφ' ὑμῶν, φησὶ, σὺν πάσῃ κακίᾳ. Μὴ ῥημάτων μὲν φείδου, διὰ δὲ τῶν ἔργων ἀμύνου. Ἐγὼ διὰ τοῦτο τὴν γλῶσσαν ἐκόλασα, καὶ τὴν κραυγὴν αὐτῆς περιέκοψα, ἵνα μὴ τὸν πυρσὸν ἀνάψῃ σφοδρότερον: εἰ δὲ καὶ χωρὶς κραυγῆς τὰ αὐτὰ ποιεῖς, καὶ ἔνδον τρέφεις τὴν πυρὰν καὶ τοὺς ἄνθρακας, τί τὸ ὄφελος τῆς σιγῆς; Ἢ οὐκ οἶδας, ὅτι αἱ πυρκαϊαὶ μάλιστά εἰσι χαλεπώταται, αἵπερ ἂν ἔνδον τρεφόμεναι μὴ φαίνωνται τοῖς περιεστηκόσιν ἐκτός; καὶ τραύματα, ἅπερ ἂν μὴ εἰς τὴν ἐπιφάνειαν ἐξανθήσῃ; καὶ πυρετοὶ ὅσοι τὰ ἐντόσθια καίουσιν; Οὕτω καὶ ὀργὴ αὕτη χαλεπωτέρα ἡ τὴν ψυχὴν ἐπινεμομένη. Ἀλλὰ καὶ αὕτη ἀρθήτω, φησὶ, σὺν πάσῃ κακίᾳ, καὶ μικρᾷ καὶ μεγάλῃ. Πειθώμεθα τοίνυν αὐτῷ, καὶ πᾶσαν πικρίαν καὶ πᾶσαν κακίαν ἐξαίρωμεν, ἵνα μὴ λυπῶμεν τὸ Πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον. Ἀνέλωμεν πρόῤῥιζον τὴν πικρίαν, ἐκτέμωμεν αὐτήν: Οὐδὲν ἀγαθὸν ἀπὸ πικρᾶς γένοιτο ἂν ψυχῆς, οὐδὲν ὑγιὲς, πάντα συμφοραὶ, πάντα δάκρυα, πάντα θρῆνοι καὶ οἰμωγαί. Οὐχ ὁρᾶτε καὶ τῶν θηρίων ὅσα ἂν κράζῃ, πῶς ἀποστρεφόμεθα: οἷον τὸν λέοντα, τὴν ἄρκτον, ἀλλ' οὐχὶ τὸ πρόβατον; οὐ γάρ ἐστιν ἐκεῖ κραυγὴ, ἀλλὰ προσηνής τις φωνή. Καὶ τῶν ὀργάνων δὲ τῶν μουσικῶν, ὅσα μὲν ἂν κράζῃ, ἀηδέστερά ἐστι πρὸς τὸν φθόγγον, οἷον τύμπανα, σάλπιγγες: τὰ δὲ μὴ οὕτως, ἀλλὰ μαλάττοντα, ταῦτα ἡδέα, οἷον αὐλὸς καὶ κιθάρα καὶ σύριγγες. Οὕτως οὖν ἡμῶν τὴν ψυχὴν καταστήσωμεν, ὥστε μὴ κράζειν: καὶ οὕτω δυνησόμεθα καὶ τῆς ὀργῆς περιγενέσθαι: ταύτην δὲ ἐκκόψαντες, αὐτοὶ πρῶτοι τῆς γαλήνης ἀπολαύσομεν, καὶ εἰς τὸν εὔδιον πλευσόμεθα λιμένα: οὗ γένοιτο πάντας ἡμᾶς ἐπιτυχεῖν ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ τῷ Κυρίῳ ἡμῶν, μεθ' οὗ τῷ Πατρὶ ἅμα τῷ ἁγίῳ Πνεύματι δόξα, κράτος, τιμὴ, νῦν καὶ ἀεὶ, καὶ εἰς τοὺς αἰῶνας τῶν αἰώνων. Ἀμήν.