論祭司職分 第 3 章 第 3/3 段

Concerning virgins. But in the care of virgins the fear is greater, by as much as the possession is more precious and this flock more royal than the others;

for already into the choir of these holy ones too countless women full of countless evils have burst in, and here the grief is greater.

And just as it is not the same thing for a free maiden and for her serving-girl to sin, so neither for a virgin and a widow.

For to the latter it has become a matter of indifference both to chatter and to revile one another, and to flatter and to be shameless, and to appear everywhere, and to go about the marketplace;

but the virgin has stripped for greater things, and has emulated the highest philosophy, and professes to display on earth the citizenship of the angels, and has set before herself to accomplish, together with this flesh, the things of the bodiless powers.

And she must neither make excessive and frequent outings, nor is it permitted her to utter words idly and in vain, and she ought not even to know the name of reviling and flattery.

On account of this she needs a most secure guarding and more of an alliance.

For since the enemy of holiness ever stands over them and lies in wait the more, ready to swallow them up should anyone slip and fall; and since the men who plot against them are many, and on top of all this there is the madness of nature itself;

the battle line is drawn up against her on two fronts—the one assailing from without, the other harassing from within.

For these reasons the one who superintends has much fear, and still greater is the danger and the anguish, should anything unwished-for—which God forbid—ever come to pass.

For if a daughter is to her father a hidden cause of sleeplessness, and anxiety over her drives away his sleep—where there is such dread merely lest she remain unwed, or pass her prime, or be hated—what will he suffer who has none of these cares, but others far greater than these? For here the one slighted is not a husband, but Christ himself;

nor does the barrenness end in mere reproach, but the dread thing issues in the perdition of a soul.

For 'every tree,' he says, 'that does not bring forth good fruit is cut down and cast into the fire.' And to her who is hated by the Bridegroom it is not enough to receive a writ of divorce and depart; rather, he gives eternal punishment as the penalty of that hatred.

And the father after the flesh has many things that make the guarding of his daughter easy for him;

a nurse and a host of maidservants and the security of the house all help the parent toward the keeping of the maiden;

for she is not permitted to go out continually into the marketplace, nor, when she does go out, is she compelled to be seen by any of those she meets, the darkness of evening no less than the walls of the house concealing her who wishes not to be seen.

And apart from these, she is freed from every occasion that might ever force her into the sight of men;

for neither care for necessities, nor the abuses of wrongdoers, nor anything else of the kind puts her under the necessity of such an encounter, since the father becomes to her instead of all things;

and she has but one care alone—to do or say nothing unworthy of the decorum that befits her.

But here there are many things that make the guarding difficult for the father—or rather, even impossible;

for neither could he keep her indoors with himself;

for such a cohabitation is neither seemly nor free from danger.

For even if they themselves suffer no harm, but remain preserving their holiness intact, they will give no less an account for the souls they have caused to stumble than if they had chanced to sin against one another.

And since this is not possible, it is neither easy to discern the movements of her soul—to prune away those that are disorderly, and to train those that are orderly and rhythmical, leading them toward what is better—nor is it easy to keep watch over her goings-out.

For poverty and the lack of protection do not allow him to become a strict examiner of the seemliness that befits her;

for whenever she is compelled to attend to everything herself, she has, if she should wish not to be chaste, many pretexts for going abroad.

And the one who has charge of her must bid her remain always at home and cut off these pretexts, providing both a sufficiency of necessities and someone to minister to her in these things;

and he must also keep her away from funerals and all-night vigils.

For that serpent of many devices knows—yes, he knows—how to scatter his venom even through good deeds.

And the virgin must be fortified on every side, and go forth from the house but seldom in the whole year, only when unavoidable and necessary occasions press upon her.

And if anyone should say that none of these is a task for a bishop to handle, let him know well that the cares and the responsibilities for each of these things are referred back to him.

And it is far more profitable for him, while doing everything himself, to be free from the charges which he must of necessity bear for the sins of others, than, being released from the ministry, to tremble at giving account for what others have done.

Besides this, the man who does these things by himself goes through everything with great ease;

but the one who is compelled to do this by persuading the minds of all does not have so much relief from being released from doing it himself, as he has troubles and tumults on account of those who oppose and contend with his judgments.

But I could not recount all the cares on behalf of the virgins;

for even when they must be enrolled, they cause no ordinary troubles to the one entrusted with this administration.

Concerning judgments. The part that concerns judgments has countless vexations, and much occupation, and as many difficulties as not even those who sit to judge secular cases bear;

for it is a hard task both to find out the just thing itself, and, having found it, not to corrupt it.

And not only occupation and difficulty, but danger too, and that no small one, is added;

for already some of the weaker, falling into troubles, since they obtained no protection, have made shipwreck concerning the faith.

For many of those who have been wronged hate those who do not help them no less than they hate those who wronged them;

and they are willing to take into account neither the perversion of affairs, nor the difficulty of the times, nor the measure of priestly power, nor anything else of the kind, but are merciless judges, knowing but one defense—the riddance of the evils that beset them;

...deliverance from the evils that beset them.

and the one who is unable to provide this, though he allege ten thousand pretexts, will never escape their condemnation.

And since I have mentioned protection, come, let me uncover for you yet another occasion of complaints;

for if the one who holds the bishopric does not go round the houses every day more than do the men of the marketplace, untold offenses arise from this;

for not only the sick, but the healthy too wish to be visited, not because piety calls them to this, but because most of them lay claim rather to honor and dignity.

And if it ever happens that he visits one of the richer and more powerful more frequently, when some need presses, for the common benefit of the Church, he straightway incurs from this a reputation for flattery and fawning.

And why do I speak of protection and visits? From mere greetings alone they bear such a weight of charges as often to be burdened and to sink down under despondency; indeed, they are already called to account even for a glance;

for the things done by them quite simply the many scrutinize exactly, examining the measure of the voice, and the disposition of the look, and the amount of laughter.

'So-and-so,' he says, 'he laughed with liberally, and addressed with a beaming face and a loud voice, but me less, and just as it happened';

and if, when many are sitting together, he does not turn his eyes everywhere as he converses, the many call the thing an insult.

Who then, unless he be exceedingly strong, could hold out against so many accusers, either so as not to be charged by them at all, or so as to escape after the charge? For one must indeed have no accusers;

but if this is impossible, then to be acquitted of the charges brought by them;

but if even this is not easy, but some take pleasure in accusing at random and without cause, then nobly to stand against the despondency arising from these reproaches.

For the one justly accused will easily bear with his accuser;

for since there is no accuser more bitter than the conscience, therefore, when we have first been caught by that most grievous one, we easily bear those from without, who are gentler.

But the one who is conscious of nothing wicked in himself, when he is accused without cause, is both quickly carried away to anger and easily sinks into despondency, unless he has beforehand trained his soul to bear the follies of the many;

for it is not, indeed it is not possible for one slandered at random and condemned not to be troubled and to suffer something at such unreasonableness.

What could one say of the griefs they endure whenever it is necessary to cut someone off from the fullness of the Church? Would that the dread thing stopped at grief!

But as it is, there is also no small ruin;

for there is fear lest that man, being punished beyond what is fitting, suffer that very thing spoken by the blessed Paul, and be swallowed up by overmuch sorrow.

Here too, then, there is need of the greatest exactness, lest the occasion of benefit become for him a source of greater loss.

For of whatever sins that man commits after such treatment, the physician who did not cut the wound well shares in the wrath that is for each of these.

How many punishments, then, must one expect when he is required to give account not only for his own transgressions, but is placed in extreme danger also for the sins committed by others? For if, while giving account for our own faults, we shudder, as not being able to escape that fire, what must the one who is to make defense for so many expect to suffer? For that this is true, hear the blessed Paul speaking—or rather, not him, but Christ speaking in him:

'Obey those who lead you and submit, for they watch over your souls as those who will give account.' Is this fear of the threat a small one? It cannot be told.

But all these things are enough to persuade even the very disobedient and hard-hearted that it was not out of madness or love of glory that we were seized, but only out of fear for ourselves, and looking

to the magnitude of the matter, we fled this flight.