Now let us say a few words about the fear of punishment. To the penalty that is due to sins let the mind look before it sins; let it set the torments and pains that are wont to follow the sinner over against the carnal incentives; and nothing of sin will delight it, nor will any bodily pleasure incline it to sinning. In short, we do not yield to our enticements and pleasures because we cannot resist them, but because we promise ourselves security in concealing the crime; and while we believe that what we do can be glossed over or redeemed, being enticed by the hope of presumed impunity, we permit our pleasure to have dominion over us.
But if, at the very time when one deliberates on sinning, he should consider with sound mind what penalty awaits those caught in their misdeeds and crimes, what punishment torments the convicted, what trembling shakes the limbs, what pallor floods the face, and finally how greatly it humbles a man and renders him execrable to all; perhaps even the disgrace of a foul reputation might keep him from yielding consent to any vices whatsoever. For what evil deed can be done from which even those would not blush, whom their very crimes delight? Hence it is that those who vainly and shamefully boast of their good deeds conceal the disgraces by which they are stung and humbled.
And what of this: that even without human judgment the torments of a judging conscience rage against the sinner, and the very thoughts of his secret guilt wear out, by their tormenting recollection, a mind ill-conscious to itself?