The Danger of Memory and Lust

It will neigh when moved by a passionate impulse.

Chapter 4. On fornication. Self-control gives birth to temperance, but gluttony is the mother of licentiousness; oil nourishes a lamp’s flame, and the company of women kindles a torch of pleasure. The violence of waves distresses an unballasted ship, and a thought of fornication distresses an incontinent mind. Fornication will take satiety as an ally; for it will abandon him and stand with the enemies, and in the end will make war together with the foes. He who loves stillness remains unwounded by the enemy’s arrows, but he who mingles with a crowd receives continual wounds.

The sight of a woman is a poisoned arrow; it has wounded the soul and deposited its venom, and the longer it lingers, the more putrefaction it works. He who guards against these arrows does not visit public festivals, nor does he go about gaping at the feasts; for it is better to remain at home and devote oneself to prayers than, thinking to honor the feasts, to become the enemies’ by-product. Flee the company of women if you wish to be temperate, and do not give them boldness to be bold toward you ever. For at first they either have or pretend reverence; but later they dare all things shamelessly.

At the first meeting they keep their gaze down, speak gently, weep sympathetically, comport themselves reverently, sigh bitterly, ask about chastity, and listen eagerly; the second time you saw them, and they lifted their eyes slightly upward; the third, and they pay attention shamelessly — you smiled, and they laughed unrestrainedly; then they adorn themselves and show themselves to you openly, shaping their gaze to proclaim the passion, raising their eyebrows and rolling their eyelids, baring their necks and preening with their whole bodies, speaking words that soften toward passion and practicing a voice that charms the hearing, until through all these they besiege the soul. These become hooks baiting you toward death, and many-tangled snares drawing you toward destruction. Let them not lead you astray, having used gentle words; for a malignant venom of beasts is hidden in them.

Chapter 5. Approach a burning fire rather than a young woman, being young yourself; for having approached fire and been pained, you will quickly leap away, but having been made soft by womanish words, you will not easily depart. A plant standing by water flourishes, and the passion of licentiousness flourishes in the company of women.

He who fills his belly and promises to be temperate is like one who claims to bridle the working of fire in straw. For just as it is impossible to check the rush of fire running in straw, so it is impossible to stop an uncontrolled impulse burning in satiety. A pillar is supported by its base, and the passion of fornication rests upon satiety. A storm-tossed ship hastens to harbor, and the soul of the temperate seeks the desert; the one flees waves of the sea threatening danger, the other forms of women causing painful destruction. An adorned form sinks one worse than a wave; for from the wave it is even possible to swim away, out of longing for life, but a woman’s form, having deceived, persuades one to despise even life itself. A desert bramble escapes the flame of fire unharmed, and the temperate man separated from women has not been inflamed by the passion of licentiousness; for just as the memory of fire does not burn the mind, so a passion has no strength when its fuel is absent.

Chapter 6. If you pity an enemy, he will become your foe, and if you spare a passion, it will rise up against you. The sight of a woman provokes the licentious toward pleasure, but the temperate — even there — toward the glorification of God; if the passion grows calm in the company of women, do not trust it when it promises dispassion. For even a dog wags its tail when left with a crowd, but having come outside, it displays its own wickedness. When the memory of a woman comes to you without passion, then consider that you have reached the bounds of temperance. But when her image rouses you to contemplation, and her arrows encompass your soul, then consider that you are outside virtue. But do not even so linger over such thoughts, nor converse long in your mind with a woman’s form; for the passion is fond of turning back, and has danger near. For just as measured smelting purifies silver, but prolonged smelting easily destroys it, so a lingering fantasy of a woman corrupts a temperate habit; nor converse long with the face that appeared, lest it kindle in you a flame of pleasure and set fire to the threshing-floor of your soul; for just as a spark lingering in chaff raises a flame, so a remaining memory of a woman kindles desire.

Chapter 7. On love of money. Love of money is the root of all evils (1 Tim 6:10), and it nourishes the remaining passions as evil branches, and will not let what has blossomed from it wither.