Chapter IV.

But we need no longer show in this narrow way the drawback of this life, as if the number of its ills was limited to adulteries, dissensions, and plots. I think we should take the higher and truer view, and say at once that none of that evil in life, which is visible in all its business and in all its pursuits, can have any hold over a man, if he will not put himself in the fetters of this course. The truth of what we say will be clear thus. A man who, seeing through the illusion with the eye of his spirit purged, lifts himself above the struggling world, and, to use the words of the Apostle, slights it all as but dung, in a way exiling himself altogether from human life by his abstinence from marriage,—that man has no fellowship whatever with the sins of mankind, such as avarice, envy, anger, hatred, and everything of the kind. He has an exemption from all this, and is in every way free and at peace; there is nothing in him to provoke his neighbours’ envy, because he clutches none of those objects round which envy in this life gathers. He has raised his own life above the world, and prizing virtue as his only precious possession he will pass his days in painless peace and quiet. For virtue is a possession which, though all according to their capacity should share it, yet will be always in abundance for those who thirst after it; unlike the occupation of the lands on this earth, which men divide into sections, and the more they add to the one the more they take from the other, so that the one person’s gain is his fellow’s loss; whence arise the fights for the lion’s share, from men’s hatred of being cheated. But the larger owner of this possession is never envied; he who snatches the lion’s share does no damage to him who claims equal participation; as each is capable each has this noble longing satisfied, while the wealth of virtues in those who are already occupiers17    ἐν τοῖς προλαβοῦσιν. Galesinius’ Latin seems wrong here, “rebus iis quas supra meminimus,” though the words often have that force in Gregory. is not exhausted. The man, then, who, with his eyes only on such a life, makes virtue, which has no limit that man can devise, his only treasure, will surely never brook to bend his soul to any of those low courses which multitudes tread. He will not admire earthly riches, or human power, or any of those things which folly seeks. If, indeed, his mind is still pitched so low, he is outside our band of novices, and our words do not apply to him. But if his thoughts are above, walking as it were with God, he will be lifted out of the maze of all these errors; for the predisposing cause of them all, marriage, has not touched him. Now the wish to be before others is the deadly sin of pride, and one would not be far wrong in saying that this is the seed-root of all the thorns of sin; but it is from reasons connected with marriage that this pride mostly begins. To show what I mean, we generally find the grasping man throwing the blame on his nearest kin; the man mad after notoriety and ambition generally makes his family responsible for this sin: “he must not be thought inferior to his forefathers; he must be deemed a great man by the generation to come by leaving his children historic records of himself”: so also the other maladies of the soul, envy, spite, hatred and such-like, are connected with this cause; they are to be found amongst those who are eager about the things of this life. He who has fled from it gazes as from some high watch-tower on the prospect of humanity, and pities these slaves of vanity for their blindness in setting such a value on bodily well-being. He sees some distinguished person giving himself airs because of his public honours, and wealth, and power, and only laughs at the folly of being so puffed up. He gives to the years of human life the longest number, according to the Psalmist’s computation, and then compares this atom-interval with the endless ages, and pities the vain glory of those who excite themselves for such low and petty and perishable things. What, indeed, amongst the things here is there enviable in that which so many strive for,—honour? What is gained by those who win it? The mortal remains mortal whether he is honoured or not. What good does the possessor of many acres gain in the end? Except that the foolish man thinks his own that which never belongs to him, ignorant seemingly in his greed that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof18    Ps. xxiv. 1; xlvii. 7.,” for “God is king of all the earth19    Ps. xxiv. 1; xlvii. 7..” It is the passion of having which gives men a false title of lordship over that which can never belong to them. “The earth,” says the wise Preacher, “abideth for ever20    Eccles. i. 4.,” ministering to every generation, first one, then another, that is born upon it; but men, though they are so little even their own masters, that they are brought into life without knowing it by their Maker’s will, and before they wish are withdrawn from it, nevertheless in their excessive vanity think that they are her lords; that they, now born, now dying, rule that which remains continually. One who reflecting on this holds cheaply all that mankind prizes, whose only love is the divine life, because “all flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass21    1 Pet. i. 24.,” can never care for this grass which “to-day is and to-morrow is not”; studying the divine ways, he knows not only that human life has no fixity, but that the entire universe will not keep on its quiet course for ever; he neglects his existence here as an alien and a passing thing; for the Saviour said, “Heaven and earth shall pass away22    S. Matt. xxiv. 35.,” the whole of necessity awaits its refashioning. As long as he is “in this tabernacle23    2 Cor. v. 4.,” exhibiting mortality, weighed down with this existence, he laments the lengthening of his sojourn in it; as the Psalmist-poet says in his heavenly songs. Truly, they live in darkness who sojourn in these living tabernacles; wherefore that preacher, groaning at the continuance of this sojourn, says, “Woe is me that my sojourn is prolonged24    Ps. cxx. 5, 6 (LXX.).,” and he attributes the cause of his dejection to “darkness”; for we know that darkness is called in the Hebrew language “kedar.” It is indeed a darkness as of the night which envelops mankind, and prevents them seeing this deceit and knowing that all which is most prized by the living, and moreover all which is the reverse, exists only in the conception of the unreflecting, and is in itself nothing; there is no such reality anywhere as obscurity of birth, or illustrious birth, or glory, or splendour, or ancient renown, or present elevation, or power over others, or subjection. Wealth and comfort, poverty and distress, and all the other inequalities of life, seem to the ignorant, applying the test of pleasure, vastly different from each other. But to the higher understanding they are all alike; one is not of greater value than the other; because life runs on to the finish with the same speed through all these opposites, and in the lots of either class there remains the same power of choice to live well or ill, “through armour on the right hand and on the left, through evil report and good report25    2 Cor. vi. 7..” Therefore the clearseeing mind which measures reality will journey on its path without turning, accomplishing its appointed time from its birth to its exit; it is neither softened by the pleasures nor beaten down by the hardships; but, as is the way with travellers, it keeps advancing always, and takes but little notice of the views presented. It is the travellers way to press on to their journey’s end, no matter whether they are passing through meadows and cultivated farms, or through wilder and more rugged spots; a smiling landscape does not detain them; nor a gloomy one check their speed. So, too, that lofty mind will press straight on to its self-imposed end, not turning aside to see anything on the way. It passes through life, but its gaze is fixed on heaven; it is the good steersman directing the bark to some landmark there. But the grosser mind looks down; it bends its energies to bodily pleasures as surely as the sheep stoop to their pasture; it lives for gorging and still lower pleasures26    τοῖς μετὰ γαστέρα (not, γαστέρος), Cod. Reg.; cf. Gregor. Nazian. orat. xvi. p. 250, δοῦλος γαστρὸς, καὶ τῶν ὑπὸ γαστέρα. Euseb. lib. 7, c. 20, ταῖς ὑπὸ γαστέρα πλησμοναῖς; it is alienated from the life of God27    Eph. ii. 12; iv. 18., and a stranger to the promise of the Covenants; it recognizes no good but the gratification of the body. It is a mind such as this that “walks in darkness28    S. John xii. 35,” and invents all the evil in this life of ours; avarice, passions unchecked, unbounded luxury, lust of power, vain-glory, the whole mob of moral diseases that invade men’s homes. In these vices, one somehow holds closely to another; where one has entered all the rest seem to follow, dragging each other in a natural order, just as in a chain, when you have jerked the first link, the others cannot rest, and even the link at the other end feels the motion of the first, which passes thence by virtue of their contiguity through the intervening links; so firmly are men’s vices linked together by their very nature; when one of them has gained the mastery of a soul, the rest of the train follow. If you want a graphic picture of this accursed chain, suppose a man who because of some special pleasure it gives him is a victim to his thirst for fame; then a desire to increase his fortune follows close upon this thirst for fame; he becomes grasping; but only because the first vice leads him on to this. Then this grasping after money and superiority engenders either anger with his kith and kin, or pride towards his inferiors, or envy of those above him; then hypocrisy comes in after this envy; a soured temper after that; a misanthropical spirit after that; and behind them all a state of condemnation which ends in the dark fires of hell. You see the chain; how all follows from one cherished passion. Seeing, then, that this inseparable train of moral diseases has entered once for all into the world, one single way of escape is pointed out to us in the exhortations of the inspired writings; and that is to separate ourselves from the life which involves this sequence of sufferings. If we haunt Sodom, we cannot escape the rain of fire; nor if one who has fled out of her looks back upon her desolation, can he fail to become a pillar of salt rooted to the spot. We cannot be rid of the Egyptian bondage, unless we leave Egypt, that is, this life that lies under water29    ὑποβρύχιον; referring to the floods of the Nile., and pass, not that Red Sea, but this black and gloomy Sea of life. But suppose we remain in this evil bondage, and, to use the Master’s words, “the truth shall not have made us free,” how can one who seeks a lie and wanders in the maze of this world ever come to the truth? How can one who has surrendered his existence to be chained by nature run away from this captivity? An illustration will make our meaning clearer. A winter torrent30    Iliad, v. 87., which, impetuous in itself, becomes swollen and carries down beneath its stream trees and boulders and anything that comes in its way, is death and danger to those alone who live along its course; for those who have got well out of its way it rages in vain. Just so, only the man who lives in the turmoil of life has to feel its force; only he has to receive those sufferings which nature’s stream, descending in a flood of troubles, must, to be true to its kind, bring to those who journey on its banks. But if a man leaves this torrent, and these “proud waters31    Ps. cxxiv. 5, 6, 7: τὸ ὕδωρ τὸ ἀνυπόστατον (LXX.), i.e. unsupportable.,” he will escape from being “a prey to the teeth” of this life, as the Psalm goes on to say, and, as “a bird from the snare,” on virtue’s wings. This simile, then, of the torrent holds; human life is a tossing and tumultuous stream sweeping down to find its natural level; none of the objects sought for in it last till the seekers are satisfied; all that is carried to them by this stream comes near, just touches them, and passes on; so that the present moment in this impetuous flow eludes enjoyment, for the after-current snatches it from their view. It would be our interest therefore to keep far away from such a stream, lest, engaged on temporal things, we should neglect eternity. How can a man keep for ever anything here, be his love for it never so passionate? Which of life’s most cherished objects endures always? What flower of prime? What gift of strength and beauty? What wealth, or fame, or power? They all have their transient bloom, and then melt away into their opposites. Who can continue in life’s prime? Whose strength lasts for ever? Has not Nature made the bloom of beauty even more short-lived than the shows of spring? For they blossom in their season, and after withering for a while again revive; after another shedding they are again in leaf, and retain their beauty of to-day to a late prime. But Nature exhibits the human bloom only in the spring of early life; then she kills it; it is vanished in the frosts of age. All other delights also deceive the bodily eye for a time, and then pass behind the veil of oblivion. Nature’s inevitable changes are many; they agonize him whose love is passionate. One way of escape is open: it is, to be attached to none of these things, and to get as far away as possible from the society of this emotional and sensual world; or rather, for a man to go outside the feelings which his own body gives rise to. Then, as he does not live for the flesh, he will not be subject to the troubles of the flesh. But this amounts to living for the spirit only, and imitating all we can the employment of the world of spirits. There they neither marry, nor are given in marriage. Their work and their excellence is to contemplate the Father of all purity, and to beautify the lines of their own character from the Source of all beauty, so far as imitation of It is possible.

[4] Κεφάλαιον δʹ Ὅτι πάντα τὰ κατὰ τὸν βίον ἄτοπα τὴν ἀρχὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ γάμου ἔχει: ἐν ᾧ καὶ οἷος ὁ κατὰ ἀλήθειαν ἀποταξάμενος τῷ βίῳ ἐστίν. Μᾶλλον δὲ τί χρὴ μικρολόγως τοῦ τοιούτου βίου τὴν ἀτοπίαν ἐλέγχειν, ἐν μόναις μοιχείαις καὶ διαστάσεσι καὶ ἐπιβουλαῖς περιορίζοντας τὴν τῶν συμφορῶν ἀπαρίθμησιν; Δοκεῖ γάρ μοι τῷ ὑψηλοτέρῳ καὶ ἀληθεστέρῳ λόγῳ πᾶσα ἡ τοῦ βίου κακία ἡ πᾶσι πράγμασι καὶ ἐπιτηδεύμασιν ἐνθεωρουμένη μηδεμίαν εὑρίσκειν ἀρχὴν κατὰ τῆς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ζωῆς, εἴ τις ἑαυτὸν μὴ ὑπαγάγοι τῇ ἀνάγκῃ τοῦ βίου τούτου. Οὕτω δὲ ἡμῖν ἡ ἀλήθεια τοῦ λόγου φανερωθήσεται: ὁ τὴν τοῦ βίου τούτου ἀπάτην κατανοήσας καθαρῷ τῷ τῆς ψυχῆς ὀφθαλμῷ καὶ ὑψηλότερος τῶν ἐνταῦθα σπουδαζομένων γενόμενος καί, καθώς φησιν ὁ ἀπόστολος, καθάπερ τινὰ δυσώδη σκύβαλα τὰ πάντα περιορῶν καὶ τρόπον τινὰ τοῦ βίου παντὸς διὰ τῆς τοῦ γάμου ἀναχωρήσεως ἑαυτὸν ἐξοικίσας οὐδεμίαν ἔχει κοινωνίαν πρὸς τὰ κακὰ τὰ ἀνθρώπινα, πλεονεξίαν λέγω καὶ φθόνον ὀργήν τε καὶ μῖσος καὶ κενῆς δόξης ἐπιθυμίαν καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ὅσα τοῦ τοιούτου γένους ἐστί. Πάντων δὲ τῶν τοιούτων τὴν ἀτέλειαν ἔχων καὶ διὰ πάντων ἐλευθεριάζων καὶ εἰρηνεύων τῷ βίῳ, οὐκ ἔστιν ἐφ' ᾧτε καὶ φιλονεικήσει περὶ τοῦ πλείονος ἢ ἐπὶ τίνι καθ' ἑαυτοῦ κινήσει τοῖς γειτνιῶσι τὸν φθόνον ὁ μηδενὸς τῶν τοιούτων ἁπτόμενος, οἷς ὁ φθόνος ἐν τῇ ζωῇ περιφύεται; παντὸς γὰρ τοῦ κόσμου τὴν ἑαυτοῦ ψυχὴν ὑπεράρας καὶ μόνον τίμιον ἑαυτῷ κτῆμα νομίζων τὴν ἀρετήν, ἄλυπόν τινα καὶ εἰρηνικὸν καὶ ἄμαχον βιοτεύσει βίον. Τῆς γὰρ ἀρετῆς ἡ κτῆσις, κἂν πάντες μετέχωσιν αὐτῆς ἄνθρωποι κατὰ τὴν ἑαυτοῦ δύναμιν ἕκαστος, ἀεὶ πλήρης τοῖς ἐπιθυμοῦσίν ἐστιν, οὐ κατὰ τὴν ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς κτῆσιν, ἣν οἱ διαιροῦντες εἰς τμήματα, ὅσον ἂν προσθῶσι τῇ μιᾷ μερίδι, τοσοῦτον ὑφείλοντο τῆς ἑτέρας, καὶ ὁ πλεονασμὸς τοῦ ἑνὸς ἐλάττωσίς ἐστι τοῦ συμμετέχοντος: ὅθεν καὶ αἱ περὶ τοῦ πλείονος μάχαι διὰ τὸ πρὸς τὸ ἐλαττοῦσθαι μῖσος τοῖς ἀνθρώποις συνίστανται. Ἐκείνου δὲ ἀνεπίφθονός ἐστιν ἡ πλεονεξία τοῦ κτήματος καὶ ὁ τὸ πλεῖον ἁρπάσας οὐδεμίαν ἤνεγκε ζημίαν τῷ συμμετασχεῖν ἀξιοῦντι τῶν ἴσων, ἀλλ' ὅσον ἐστί τις χωρητικός, αὐτός τε πληροῦται τῆς ἀγαθῆς ἐπιθυμίας καὶ ὁ πλοῦτος τῶν ἀρετῶν ἐν τοῖς προλαβοῦσιν οὐκ ἀναλίσκεται.
Ὁ τοίνυν πρὸς τοῦτον ἀποβλέπων τὸν βίον καὶ τὴν ἀρετὴν ἑαυτῷ θησαυρίζων, ἣν οὐδεὶς ὅρος ἀνθρώπινος περιγράφει, ἆρα καταδέξεταί ποτε πρός τι τῶν ταπεινῶν καὶ πεπατημένων τὴν ἑαυτοῦ ψυχὴν ἐπικλῖναι; Ἆρα θαυμάσεται τὸν γήϊνον πλοῦτον ἢ δυναστείαν ἀνθρωπίνην ἢ ἄλλο τι τῶν ὑπὸ ἀνοίας σπουδαζομένων; Εἰ μὲν γάρ τις ἔτι περὶ ταῦτα διάκειται ταπεινῶς, ἔξω τοῦ τοιούτου ἂν εἴη χοροῦ καὶ οὐδὲν πρὸς τὸν ἡμέτερον ἕξει λόγον: εἰ δὲ τὰ ἄνω φρονεῖ καὶ συμμετεωροπορεῖ τῷ θεῷ, ὑψηλότερος πάντως τῶν τοιούτων ἐστὶν οὐκ ἔχων τὴν κοινὴν ἀφορμὴν τῆς περὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα πλάνης, τὸν γάμον λέγω. Τὸ γὰρ ὑπὲρ τοὺς ἄλλους θέλειν εἶναι, τὸ χαλεπὸν τοῦτο πάθος ἡ ὑπερηφανία, ὃ δὴ μάλιστα σπέρμα τις εἰπὼν ἢ ῥίζαν πάσης τῆς κατὰ τὴν ἁμαρτίαν ἀκάνθης τοῦ εἰκότος οὐχ ἁμαρτήσεται, τοῦτο μάλιστα ἐκ τῆς αἰτίας τοῦ γάμου τὴν ἀρχὴν ἔχει.
Οὐ γὰρ ἔστιν ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ πολὺ τὸν πλεονέκτην μὴ τοὺς παῖδας ἐπαιτιᾶσθαι ἢ τὸν δοξομανῆ καὶ φιλότιμον μὴ εἰς τὸ γένος ἀνενεγκεῖν τοῦ κακοῦ τὴν αἰτίαν, ὡς ἂν μὴ ἐλάττων δοκοίη τῶν πρὸ αὐτοῦ γεγονότων, καὶ ἵνα μέγας τοῖς μετὰ ταῦτα νομίζοιτο καταλιπών τινα τοῖς ἐξ αὐτοῦ διηγήματα: ὡσαύτως δὲ καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ ὅσα ψυχῆς ἐστιν ἀρρωστήματα, φθόνος καὶ μνησικακία καὶ μῖσος καὶ εἴ τι τοιοῦτον ἕτερον, τῆς αὐτῆς αἰτίας ἤρτηται. Πάντα γὰρ ταῦτα τοῖς περὶ τὸν βίον τοῦτον ἐπτοημένοις συμπολιτεύεται, ὧν ὁ ἔξω γενόμενος, καθάπερ ἐπί τινος ὑψηλῆς σκοπιᾶς πόρρωθεν ἐποπτεύων τὰ ἀνθρώπινα πάθη, οἰκτείρει τῆς τυφλότητος τοὺς τῇ τοιαύτῃ ματαιότητι δεδουλωμένους καὶ μέγα κρίνοντας τὴν τῆς σαρκὸς εὐπραγίαν. Ὅταν γάρ τινα τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἐπί τινι τῶν κατὰ τὸν βίον ἴδῃ περίβλεπτον, ἀξιώμασιν ἢ πλούτοις ἢ δυναστείαις κομῶντα, καταγελᾷ τῆς ἀνοίας τῶν διὰ ταῦτα πεφυσημένων καὶ ἀριθμεῖ τὸν μήκιστον χρόνον τοῦ ἀνθρωπίνου βίου κατὰ τὴν εἰρημένην ὑπὸ τοῦ ψαλμῳδοῦ προθεσμίαν. Εἶτα παραμετρῶν τοῖς ἀπείροις αἰῶσι τὸ ἀκαριαῖον τοῦτο διάστημα, ἐλεεῖ τῆς χαυνότητος τὸν ἐπὶ τοῖς οὕτω γλίσχροις καὶ ταπεινοῖς καὶ προσκαίροις τὴν ψυχὴν ἐπαιρόμενον. Τί γὰρ ἄξιόν ἐστι μακαρισμοῦ τῶν ἐνταῦθα; Ἡ τιμή, τὸ παρὰ πολλῶν σπουδαζόμενον; _Ἐπειδὴ τί πλέον τοῖς τετιμημένοις προστίθησι; Διαμένει γὰρ θνητὸς ὁ θνητός, κἂν τιμᾶται κἂν μή. _Ἢ τὸ πολλὰ πλέθρα κεκτῆσθαι γῆς; Τοῦτο δὲ εἰς τί πέρας χρηστὸν καταλήγει τοῖς κτησαμένοις, ἐκτὸς τοῦ οἴεσθαι τὸν ἀνόητον ἑαυτοῦ εἶναι τὰ μηδὲν προσήκοντα; Ἀγνοεῖ γάρ, ὡς ἔοικεν, ὑπὸ τῆς πολλῆς λαιμαργίας, ὅτι «τοῦ κυρίου μέν ἐστιν ἀληθῶς ἡ γῆ καὶ τὸ πλήρωμα αὐτῆς»_«βασιλεὺς γὰρ πάσης τῆς γῆς ὁ θεός»_, τοῖς δὲ ἀνθρώποις τὸ τῆς πλεονεξίας πάθος ψευδώνυμον τῆς κυριότητος τὴν προσηγορίαν δίδωσι τῶν οὐδὲν προσηκόντων. «Ἡ μὲν γὰρ γῆ», καθώς φησιν ὁ σοφὸς ἐκκλησιαστής, «εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα ἕστηκε» πάσαις ὑπηρετοῦσα ταῖς γενεαῖς καὶ ἄλλοτε ἄλλους τοὺς κατ' αὐτὴν γινομένους ἐκτρέφουσα: οἱ δὲ ἄνθρωποι, οὐδὲ ἑαυτῶν ὄντες κύριοι, ἀλλὰ πρὸς τὸ τοῦ ἄγοντος βούλημα ὅτε οὐκ ἴσασιν εἰς τὴν ζωὴν παριόντες, καὶ ὅτε μὴ βούλονται πάλιν αὐτῆς χωριζόμενοι, ὑπὸ τῆς πολλῆς ματαιότητος κυριεύειν οἴονται αὐτῆς, οἱ κατὰ καιροὺς γινόμενοί τε καὶ ἀπολλύμενοι τῆς ἀεὶ μενούσης.
Ὁ οὖν ἐπεσκεμμένος ταῦτα καὶ διὰ τοῦτο περιφρονῶν ὅσα τίμια τοῖς ἀνθρώποις νομίζεται, μόνης δὲ τῆς θείας ζωῆς ἔχων τὸν ἔρωτα, ὁ εἰδὼς ὅτι «Πᾶσα σὰρξ χόρτος καὶ πᾶσα δόξα ἀνθρώπου ὡς ἄνθος χόρτου», πότε σπουδῆς ἄξιον τὸν χόρτον οἰήσεται τὸν σήμερον ὄντα καὶ αὔριον οὐκ ἐσόμενον; Οἶδε γὰρ ὁ ἐπεσκεμμένος τὰ θεῖα καλῶς, ὅτι οὐ τὰ ἀνθρώπινα μόνον οὐκ ἔχει τὸ πάγιον, ἀλλ' ὡς οὐδὲ τοῦ κόσμου παντὸς εἰς τὸ διηνεκὲς ἠρεμήσαντος. Διὰ τοῦτο ὡς ἀλλοτρίας καὶ προσκαίρου ταύτης ὑπερορᾷ τῆς ζωῆς, ἐπειδὴ «Ὁ οὐρανὸς καὶ ἡ γῆ παρελεύσεται», κατὰ τὴν τοῦ σωτῆρος φωνήν, καὶ πάντα τὴν μεταστοιχείωσιν ἀναγκαίως ἐκδέχεται. Διὰ τοῦτο, ἕως ἐστὶν «ἐν τῷ σκήνει», καθώς φησιν ὁ ἀπόστολος τὸ πρόσκαιρον ἐνδεικνύμενος, βαρούμενος τῇ παρούσῃ ζωῇ τὸ μακρύνεσθαι αὐτῷ τὴν παροικίαν ταύτην ὀδύρεται, ὥσπερ καὶ ὁ ψαλμῳδὸς ἐν ᾠδαῖς θείαις λέγων πεποίηται. Ὄντως γὰρ ἐν σκότῳ βιοτεύουσιν οἱ «μετὰ τῶν σκηνωμάτων τούτων» τῇ ζωῇ παροικοῦντες: οὗ χάριν στενάξας ὁ προφήτης πρὸς τὴν παράτασιν τῆς παροικίας, «Οἴμοι, φησίν, ὅτι ἡ παροικία μου ἐμακρύνθη.» Σκότῳ δὲ τὴν αἰτίαν τῆς κατηφείας ταύτης ἀνέθηκε. Τὸ γὰρ σκότος τῇ Ἑβραίων φωνῇ «κηδὰρ» ὀνομάζεσθαι παρὰ τῶν σοφῶν μεμαθήκαμεν. Ἦ γὰρ οὐκ ἀληθῶς, καθάπερ ἀορασίᾳ τινὶ νυκτερινῇ κεκρατημένοι οἱ ἄνθρωποι, οὕτω πρὸς τὴν τῆς ἀπάτης ἐπίγνωσιν ἀμβλυωποῦσιν οὐκ εἰδότες ὅτι πάντα ὅσα τίμια ἐν τῇ ζωῇ ταύτῃ νενόμισται, ἢ καὶ ὅσα πρὸς τὸ ἐναντίον ὑπείληπται, ἐν μόνῃ τῇ ὑπολήψει τῶν ἀνοήτων ὑφέστηκεν; Αὐτὰ δὲ ἐφ' ἑαυτῶν ἐστιν οὐδαμοῦ οὐδέν: οὐ δυσγένειά τις, οὐκ εὐδοκίμησις γένους, οὐ δόξα, οὐ περιφάνεια, οὐ τὰ παλαιὰ διηγήματα, οὐχ ὁ ἐπὶ τοῖς ἐνεστῶσι τῦφος, οὐ τὸ κρατεῖν ἑτέρων, οὐ τὸ ὑποχείριον εἶναι. Πλοῦτοί τε καὶ τρυφαὶ καὶ πενίαι καὶ ἀπορίαι καὶ πᾶσαι αἱ τοῦ βίου ἀνωμαλίαι, τοῖς μὲν ἀπαιδεύτοις πάμπολυ διαφέρειν δοκοῦσιν, ὅταν ἡδονὴν ποιῶνται τῶν τοιούτων κριτήριον: τῷ δὲ ὑψηλῷ τὴν διάνοιαν πάντα ὁμότιμα φαίνεται καὶ οὐδὲν προτιμότερον τοῦ ἑτέρου τὸ ἕτερον, τῷ ὁμοίως διὰ τῶν ἐναντίων τὸν τῆς ζωῆς δρόμον ἀνύεσθαι καὶ ἴσην ἐν ἑκατέρᾳ τῶν λήξεων τὴν πρὸς τὸ εὖ ἢ κακῶς ζῆν δύναμιν ἐνυπάρχειν, «διὰ τῶν δεξιῶν ὅπλων καὶ ἀριστερῶν», φησὶν ὁ ἀπόστολος, «διὰ δόξης καὶ ἀτιμίας». Δι' ὧν ὁ μὲν κεκαθαρμένος τὸν νοῦν καὶ ἐπεσκεμμένος τὴν τῶν ὄντων ἀλήθειαν ὀρθῶς ὁδεύσει τὴν πορείαν, ἀπὸ γενέσεως μέχρι τῆς ἐξόδου τὸν τεταγμένον αὐτῷ χρόνον διεξερχόμενος, οὔτε ὑπὸ τῶν ἡδέων θρυπτόμενος οὔτε ὑπὸ τῶν αὐστηρῶν ταπεινούμενος, ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὴν τῶν ὁδοιπόρων συνήθειαν τοῦ πρόσω ἐχόμενος ὀλίγον ποιεῖται τῶν προφαινομένων τὸν λόγον. Σύνηθες γὰρ τοῖς ὁδοιποροῦσιν ἐπὶ τὸ τῆς ὁδοῦ πέρας ὁμοίως ἐπείγεσθαι, ἄν τε διὰ λειμώνων καὶ συμφύτων χωρίων ἄν τε διὰ τῶν ἐρημοτέρων καὶ τραχυτέρων τόπων διέρχωνται, καὶ οὔτε τὸ ἡδὺ παρακατέσχεν οὔτε τὸ ἀηδὲς ἐνεπόδισεν. Οὕτω καὶ αὐτὸς ἀμεταστρεπτὶ πρὸς τὸν προκείμενον σκοπὸν ἑαυτῷ ἐπειχθήσεται, πρὸς οὐδὲν τῶν παροδίων ἐπιστρεφόμενος, ἀλλὰ πρὸς μόνον τὸν οὐρανὸν βλέπων διαπεράσει τὸν βίον, καθάπερ τις ἀγαθὸς κυβερνήτης πρὸς τὸν ἄνω σκοπὸν διευθύνων τὸ σκάφος.
Ὁ δὲ παχὺς τὴν διάνοιαν καὶ κάτω βλέπων καὶ συγκεκυφὼς τῇ ψυχῇ πρὸς τὰ ἡδέα τοῦ σώματος καθάπερ πρὸς τὴν νομὴν τὰ βοσκήματα, μόνῃ τῇ γαστρὶ καὶ τοῖς μετὰ γαστέρα ζῶν, «ἀπηλλοτριωμένος δὲ τῆς ζωῆς τοῦ θεοῦ» καὶ «ξένος τῶν διαθηκῶν τῆς ἐπαγγελίας», οὐδὲν ἕτερον ἀγαθὸν εἶναι νομίζων ἢ τὸ ἡσθῆναι διὰ τοῦ σώματος. Οὗτός ἐστι καὶ πᾶς ὁ τοιοῦτος ὁ ἐν σκότει διαπορευόμενος, καθώς φησιν ἡ γραφή, ὁ τῶν ἐν τῷ βίῳ τούτῳ «κακῶν ἐφευρετής»: ἐν τούτοις γὰρ καὶ πλεονεξία καὶ παθῶν ἀκολασία καὶ ἡ πρὸς τὰς ἡδονὰς ἀμετρία, φιλαρχία τε πᾶσα καὶ κενῆς δόξης ἐπιθυμία καὶ ὁ λοιπὸς ὅμιλος τῶν συνοικούντων παθῶν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις. Ἔχεται γάρ πως ἐν τοῖς κακοῖς τοῦ ἑτέρου τὸ ἕτερον, καὶ ᾧπερ ἂν τὸ ἓν παραγένηται, καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ καθάπερ ὑπό τινος φυσικῆς ἀνάγκης ἑλκόμενα συνεισέρχεται πάντως, οἷον ἐν ἁλύσει γίνεται τῆς ἀρχῆς ἐπισπασθείσης: οὐ δὲ τὰς λοιπὰς ἠρεμεῖν τῆς ἁλύσεως ἀγκύλας δυνατόν ἐστιν, ἀλλ' ἡ κατὰ τὸ ἕτερον πέρας τῆς ἁλύσεως ἀγκύλη συνεκινήθη τῇ πρώτῃ κατὰ τὸ ἀκόλουθον ἀεὶ καὶ προσεχὲς ἀπὸ τοῦ πρώτου διὰ τῶν παρακειμένων τῆς κινήσεως προϊούσης. Οὕτως ἐμπέπλεκται καὶ συμπέφυκεν ἀλλήλοις τὰ ἀνθρώπινα πάθη, καὶ δι' ἑνὸς τοῦ ἐπικρατήσαντος καὶ ὁ λοιπὸς τῶν κακῶν ὁλκὸς συνεισέρχεται τῇ ψυχῇ. Καὶ εἰ χρή σοι διαγράψαι τὴν πονηρὰν ταύτην ἅλυσιν, ὑπόθου τινὰ διά τινος ἡδονῆς τοῦ κατὰ τὴν κενοδοξίαν ἡττηθῆναι πάθους: ἀλλὰ τῇ κενοδοξίᾳ καὶ ἡ τοῦ πλείονος ἔφεσις συνηκολούθησεν. Οὐ γὰρ ἔστι πλεονέκτην γενέσθαι, μὴ ἐκείνης ἐπὶ τὸ πάθος χειραγωγούσης. Εἶτα ἡ τοῦ πλεονεκτεῖν καὶ προέχειν ἐπιθυμία ἢ ὀργὴν ἐξάπτει πρὸς τὸ ὁμότιμον ἢ πρὸς τὸ ὑποχείριον τὴν ὑπερηφανίαν ἢ πρὸς τὸ ὑπερέχον τὸν φθόνον, φθόνου δὲ ἀκόλουθος ἡ ὑπόκρισις γίνεται, ἐκείνης ἡ πικρία, ταύτης ἡ μισανθρωπία, τούτων ἁπάντων τὸ τέλος κατάκρισις εἰς γέενναν καὶ σκότος καὶ πῦρ καταλήγουσα. Ὁρᾷς τὸν ὁλκὸν τῶν κακῶν, ὅπως ἑνὸς τὰ πάντα τοῦ καθ' ἡδονὴν πάθους ἐξέχεται;
Ἐπειδὴ οὖν ἅπαξ εἰσῆλθεν εἰς τὸν βίον ἡ ἀκολουθία τῶν τοιούτων παθῶν μίαν ὁρῶμεν ἐκ τῆς τῶν θεοπνεύστων γραφῶν συμβουλῆς τὴν διέξοδον τούτων, τὸ χωρισθῆναι τοῦ τοιούτου βίου τοῦ συνημμένην ἔχοντος μεθ' ἑαυτοῦ τὴν τῶν ἀνιαρῶν ἀκολούθησιν. Οὐκ ἔστι γὰρ ἐν Σοδόμοις φιλοχωρήσαντα διαφυγεῖν τὴν τοῦ πυρὸς ἐπομβρίαν, οὐδὲ τὸν ἔξω Σοδόμων γενόμενον εἶτα πάλιν ἐπιστραφέντα πρὸς τὴν ἐρήμωσιν ταύτης μὴ παγῆναι στήλην ἁλός, ἀλλ' οὐδὲ τῆς Αἰγυπτίων δουλείας ἀπαλλαγήσεται ὁ μὴ καταλιπὼν τὴν Αἴγυπτον, τὴν ὑποβρύχιον λέγω ταύτην ζωήν, καὶ διαβὰς οὐχὶ τὴν Ἐρυθρὰν ἐκείνην, ἀλλὰ τὴν μέλαιναν ταύτην καὶ ζοφώδη τοῦ βίου θάλασσαν. Εἰ δέ, καθώς φησιν ὁ κύριος, ἐὰν μὴ «ἐλευθερώσῃ ἡμᾶς ἡ ἀλήθεια», τῷ κακῷ τῆς δουλείας ἐναπομένομεν, πῶς ἔστιν ἐν τῇ ἀληθείᾳ γενέσθαι τὸν ζητοῦντα τὸ ψεῦδος καὶ «ἐν τῇ πλάνῃ τοῦ βίου ἀναστρεφόμενον»; Πῶς δέ τις τὴν δουλείαν ἀποδράσεται ταύτην ὁ ταῖς ἀνάγκαις τῆς φύσεως ὑποχείριον δοὺς τὴν ἰδίαν ζωήν; Γνωριμώτερος δ' ἂν γένοιτο ἡμῖν διά τινος παραδείγματος ὁ περὶ τούτων λόγος. Ὥσπερ τις ποταμὸς χειμερίοις ῥεύμασι τραχυνόμενος καὶ κατὰ τὴν ἑαυτοῦ φερόμενος φύσιν ξύλα τε καὶ λίθους καὶ πᾶν τὸ παρατυχὸν ὑπολαμβάνων τῷ ῥείθρῳ μόνοις τοῖς κατ' αὐτὸν γινομένοις σφαλερὸς καὶ κινδυνώδης ἐστί, τοῖς δὲ πόρρωθεν αὐτὸν φυλασσομένοις εἰκῆ ῥεῖ, οὕτω καὶ τὴν τοῦ βίου ταραχὴν ὁ κατ' αὐτὴν γεγονὼς μόνος ὑφίσταται καὶ μόνος ἀναδέχεται καθ' ἑαυτοῦ τὰ πάθη, ἅπερ ἂν ἡ φύσις ἀκολούθως ἑαυτῇ ῥέουσα τοῖς δι' αὐτῆς πορευομένοις ἀναγκαίως ἐπάγηται διὰ τῶν τοῦ βίου κακῶν ἐπικλύζουσα. Εἰ δέ τις καταλίποι «τὸν χειμάρρουν τοῦτον», ὥς φησιν ἡ γραφή, «καὶ τὸ ὕδωρ τὸ ἀνυπόστατον» ἔξω πάντως ἔσται, κατὰ τὴν τῆς ᾠδῆς ἀκολουθίαν, τῆς θήρας τῶν ὀδόντων τοῦ βίου, καθάπερ στρουθίον τῷ τῆς ἀρετῆς πτερῷ διαπτὰς τὴν παγίδα.
Ἐπειδὴ γὰρ κατὰ τὸ ῥηθὲν ἡμῖν ἐπὶ τοῦ χειμάρρου ὑπόδειγμα παντοίαις ταραχαῖς καὶ ἀνωμαλίαις πλημμυρῶν ὁ ἀνθρώπινος βίος ἀεὶ φέρεται κατὰ τοῦ πρανοῦς τῆς φύσεως προχεόμενος καὶ οὐδὲν ἕστηκε τῶν ἐν αὐτῷ σπουδαζομένων οὐδὲ ἀναμένει τὴν πλησμονὴν τῶν ἐπιθυμούντων, πάντα δὲ τὰ προσπίπτοντα ὁμοῦ τε προσήγγισε καὶ θιγόντα παρέδραμε, καὶ τὸ ἀεὶ παρὸν τῷ σφοδρῷ τῆς παρόδου διαφεύγει τὴν αἴσθησιν, ὑπὸ τῆς κατόπιν ἐπιρροῆς τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν ἁρπαζομένων: διὰ τοῦτο λυσιτελὲς ἂν εἴη πόρρω τοῦ τοιούτου ῥεύματος ἑαυτοὺς ἀνέχειν, ὡς ἂν μὴ τῶν ἀστάτων περιεχόμενοι τῶν ἀεὶ ἑστώτων ὀλιγωρήσαιμεν. Πῶς γὰρ ἔστι τὸν προσπαθοῦντά τινι τῶν ἐν τῷ βίῳ τούτῳ διὰ τέλους ἔχειν τὸ ποθούμενον; Τί τῶν μάλιστα σπουδαζομένων εἰσαεὶ παραμένει τοιοῦτον; Ποία νεότητος ἀκμή; Τίς δυνάμεως ἢ μορφῆς εὐμοιρία; Τίς πλοῦτος; Ποία δόξα; Τίς δυναστεία; Οὐ πάντα τὰ τοιαῦτα μικρὸν ἀνθήσαντα χρόνον πάλιν ἀπερρύη καὶ πρὸς τὴν ἐναντίαν ἐπωνυμίαν μετέπεσε; Τίς ἐνεβίω διὰ παντὸς τῇ νεότητι; Τίνι διήρκεσε διὰ τέλους ἡ δύναμις; Τὸ δὲ τοῦ κάλλους ἄνθος ἆρ' οὐχὶ καὶ αὐτῶν τῶν κατὰ τὸ ἔαρ προφαινομένων ὠκυμορώτερον ἡ φύσις ἐποίησε; Τὰ μέν γε ὥρας ἐπιλαβούσης ἐβλάστησε, καὶ μικρὸν ἀπανθήσαντα χρόνον πάλιν ἀνήβησε, καὶ πάλιν ἀπερρύη, καὶ πάλιν ἐκόμησε, καὶ τὸ νῦν κάλλος καὶ εἰς νέωτα ἔδειξε. Τὸ δὲ ἀνθρώπινον ἄνθος ἅπαξ ἡ φύσις κατὰ τὸ ἔαρ τῆς νεότητος δείξασα εἶτα ἀπέσβεσε, τῷ χειμῶνι τοῦ γήρως ἐναφανίσασα. Ὡσαύτως καὶ τὰ ἄλλα πάντα πρὸς καιρόν τινα τὴν τῆς σαρκὸς αἴσθησιν ἀπατήσαντα εἶτα παρέδραμε καὶ συνεκαλύφθη τῇ λήθῃ.
Ἐπεὶ οὖν αἱ τοιαῦται μεταβολαὶ κατά τινα τῆς φύσεως ἀνάγκην συμβαίνουσαι λυποῦσι πάντως τὸν ἐν προσπαθείᾳ γινόμενον, μία τῶν τοιούτων ἐστὶ κακῶν ἀποφυγή, τὸ μηδὲν τῶν μεταβαλλομένων τῇ ψυχῇ προστεθῆναι, ἀλλ' ὡς ἔστι δυνατὸν χωρισθῆναι τῆς πρὸς πάντα τὸν βίον τὸν ἐμπαθῆ τε καὶ σάρκινον ὁμιλίας, μᾶλλον δὲ καὶ τῆς πρὸς τὸ σῶμα τὸ ἑαυτοῦ συμπαθείας ἔξω γενέσθαι, ὡς ἂν μὴ κατὰ σάρκα βιοὺς ὑπεύθυνος γένηται ταῖς ἐκ τῆς σαρκὸς συμφοραῖς. Τοῦτο δέ ἐστι τὸ μόνῃ τῇ ψυχῇ ζῆν καὶ μιμεῖσθαι κατὰ τὸ δυνατὸν τὴν τῶν ἀσωμάτων δυνάμεων πολιτείαν, ἐν ᾗ «οὔτε γαμοῦσιν οὔτε γαμίσκονται», ἀλλ' ἔργον αὐτοῖς καὶ σπουδὴ καὶ κατόρθωμα τὸ θεωρεῖν τὸν πατέρα τῆς ἀφθαρσίας ἐστὶ καὶ πρὸς τὸ ἀρχέτυπον κάλλος τὴν ἰδίαν καλλωπίζειν μορφὴν διὰ τῆς ἐνδεχομένης μιμήσεως.
Ταύτης οὖν τῆς διανοίας καὶ τῆς ὑψηλῆς ἐπιθυμίας συνεργόν, καθὼς τῇ γραφῇ δοκεῖ, καὶ βοηθὸν τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ τὴν παρθενίαν δεδόσθαι φαμέν. Καὶ ὥσπερ τῶν λοιπῶν ἐπιτηδευμάτων τέχναι τινὲς πρὸς τὴν ἑκάστου τῶν σπουδαζομένων ἀπεργασίαν ἐπενοήθησαν, οὕτω μοι δοκεῖ καὶ τὸ τῆς παρθενίας ἐπιτήδευμα τέχνη τις εἶναι καὶ δύναμις τῆς θειοτέρας ζωῆς πρὸς τὴν ἀσώματον φύσιν τοὺς ἐν σαρκὶ ζῶντας ὁμοιοῦσθαι διδάσκουσα.