[11.] And that ye may learn how great a work of virtue it is, let us sketch it out in word, since in deeds we see it no where appearing; and let us consider, if it were every where in abundance, how great benefits would ensue: how there were no need then of laws, or tribunals or punishments, or avenging, or any other such things since if all loved and were beloved, no man would injure another. Yea, murders, and strifes, and wars, and divisions, and rapines, and frauds, and all evils would be removed, and vice be unknown even in name. Miracles, however, would not have effected this; they rather puff up such as are not on their guard, unto vain-glory and folly.
Again: what is indeed the marvellous part of love; all the other good things have their evils yoked with them: as he that gives up his possessions is oftentimes puffed up on this account: the eloquent is affected with a wild passion for glory; the humble-minded, on this very ground, not seldom thinks highly of himself in his conscience. But love is free from every such mischief. For none could ever be lifted up against the person whom he loves. And do not, I pray, suppose one person only loving but all alike; and then wilt thou see its virtue. Or rather, if thou wilt, first suppose one single person beloved, and one loving; loving, however, as it is meet to love. Why, he will so live on earth as if it were heaven, every where enjoying a calm and weaving for himself innumerable crowns. For both from envy, and wrath, and jealousy, and pride, and vain-glory, and evil concupiscence, and every profane love, and every distemper, such a man will keep his own soul pure. Yea, even as no one would do himself an injury so neither would this man his neighbors. And being such, he shall stand with Gabriel himself, even while he walks on earth.
Such then is he that hath love. But he that works miracles and hath perfect knowledge, without this, though he raises ten thousand from the dead, will not be much profited, broken off as he is from all and not enduring to mix himself up with any of his fellow-servants. For no other cause than this did Christ say that the sign of perfect love towards Him is the loving one's neighbors. For, "if thou lovest Me," saith He, "O Peter, more than these, feed My sheep." (S. John xxi. 15.) Dost thou see how hence also He again covertly intimates, in what case this is greater than martyrdom? For if any one had a beloved child in whose behalf he would even give up his life, and some one were to love the father, but pay no regard whatever to the son, he would greatly incense the father; nor would he feel the love for himself, because of the overlooking his son. Now if this ensue in the case of father and son, much more in the case of God and men: since surely God is more loving than any parents.
Wherefore, having said, "The first and great commandment is, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God," he added, "and the second--(He leaves it not in silence, but sets it down also)--is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." And see how with nearly the same excellency He demands also this. For as concerning God, He saith, "with all thy heart:" so concerning thy neighbor, "as thyself," which is tantamount to, "with all thy heart."
Yea, and if this were duly observed, there would be neither slave nor free, neither ruler nor ruled, neither rich nor poor, neither small nor great; nor would any devil then ever have been known: I say not, Satan only, but whatever other such spirit there be, nay, rather were there a hundred or ten thousand such, they would have no power, while love existed. For sooner would grass endure the application of fire than the devil the flame of love. She is stronger than any wall, she is firmer than any adamant; or if thou canst name any material stronger than this the firmness of love transcends them all. Her, neither wealth nor poverty overcometh: nay, rather there would be no poverty, no unbounded wealth, if there were love, but the good parts only from each estate. For from the one we should reap its abundance, and from the other its freedom from care: and should neither have to undergo the anxieties of riches, nor the dread of poverty.
[12.] And why do I mention the advantages arising from it? Yea, rather consider how great a blessing it is of itself to exercise love; what cheerfulness it produces, in how great grace it establishes the soul; a thing which above all is a choice quality of it. For the other parts of virtue have each their troubles yoked with them; as fasting, temperance, watching, have envy, concupiscence, and contempt. But love along with the gain hath great pleasure, too, and no trouble, and like an industrious bee, gathering the sweets from every flower, deposits them in the soul of him who loveth. Though any one be a slave, it renders slavery sweeter that liberty. For he who loveth rejoices not so much in commanding, as in being commanded, although to command is sweet: but love changes the nature of things and presents herself with all blessings in her hands, gentler than any mother, wealthier than any queen, and makes difficulties light and easy, causing our virtues to be facile, but vice very bitter to us. As thus: to expend seems grievous, yet love makes it pleasant: to receive other men's goods, pleasant, but love suffers it not to appear pleasant, but frames our minds to avoid it as an evil. Again, to speak evil seems to be pleasant to all; but love, while she makes this out to be bitter, causeth speaking well to be pleasant; for nothing is so sweet to us as to be praising one whom we love. Again, anger hath a kind of pleasure; but in this case no longer, rather all its sinews are taken away. Though he that is beloved should grieve him who loves him, anger no where shows itself; but tears and exhortations, and supplications; so far is love from being exasperated: and should she behold one in error, she mourns and is in pain; yet even this pain itself brings pleasure. For the very tears and the grief of love, are sweeter than any mirth and joy. For instance: they that laugh are not so refreshed as they that weep for their friends. And if thou doubt it, stop their tears; and they repine at it not otherwise than as persons intolerably ill-used. "But there is," said one, "an unbecoming pleasure in love. [198] " Avaunt, and hold thy peace, whoever thou art. For nothing is so pure from such pleasure as genuine love.
For tell me not of this ordinary sort, the vulgar and low-minded, and a disease rather than love, but of this which Paul seeks after, which considers the profit of them that are loved; and thou shalt see that no fathers are so affectionate as persons of this stamp. And even as they who love money cannot endure to spend money, but would with more pleasure be in straits than see their wealth diminishing: so too, he that is kindly affected towards any one, would choose to suffer ten thousand evils than see his beloved one injured.
[13.] "How then," saith one, "did the Egyptian woman who loved Joseph wish to injure him?" Because she loved with this diabolical love. Joseph however not with this, but with that which Paul requires. Consider then how great a love his words were tokens of, and the action which she was speaking of. "Insult me and make me an adulteress, and wrong my husband, and overthrow all my house, and cast thyself out from thy confidence towards God:" which were expressions of one who so far from loving him did not even love herself. But because he truly loved, he sought to avert her from all these. And to convince you that it was in anxiety for her, learn the nature of it from his advice. For he not only thrust her away, but also introduced an exhortation capable of quenching every flame: namely "if on my account, my master," saith he, "knoweth not any thing which is in his house." He at once reminds her of her husband that he might put her to shame. And he said not, "thy husband," but "my master," which was more apt to restrain her and induce her to consider who she was, and of whom she was enamored,--a mistress, of a slave. "For if he be lord, then art thou mistress. Be ashamed then of familiarity with a servant, and consider whose wife thou art, and with whom thou wouldst be connected, and towards whom thou art becoming thankless and inconsiderate, and that I repay him greater good-will." And see how he extols his benefits. For since that barbarous and abandoned woman could entertain no lofty sentiment, he shames her from human considerations, saying, "He knoweth nothing through me," i.e., "he is a great benefactor to me, and I cannot strike my patron in a vital part. He hath made me a second lord of his house, and no one [199] hath been kept back from me, but thee." Here he endeavors to raise her mind, that so at any rate he might persuade her to be ashamed, and might signify the greatness of her honor. Nor did he stop even here, but likewise added a name sufficient to restrain her, saying, "Because thou art his wife; and how shall I do this wickedness? But what sayest thou? That thy husband is not present, nor knoweth that he is wronged? But God will behold it." She however profited nothing by his advice, but still sought to attract him. For desiring to satiate her own frenzy, not through love of Joseph, she did these things; and this is evident from what she did afterwards. As that she institutes a trial, and brings in accusation, and bears false witness, and exposes to a wild beast him that had done no wrong, and casts him into a prison; or rather for her part, she even slew him, in such a manner did she arm the judge against him. What then? Was then Joseph too such as she was? Nay, altogether the contrary, for he neither contradicted nor accused the woman. "Yes," it may be said: "for he would have been disbelieved." And yet he was greatly beloved; and this is evident not only from the beginning but also from the end. For had not his barbarian master loved him greatly, he would even have slain him in his silence, making no defence: being as he was an Egyptian and a ruler, and wronged in his marriage-bed as he supposed, and by a servant, and a servant to whom he had been so great a benefactor. But all these things gave way to his regard for him, and the grace which God poured down upon him. And together with this grace and love, he had also other no small proofs, had he been minded to justify himself; the garments themselves. For if it were she to whom violence was done, her own vest should have been torn, her face lacerated, instead of her retaining his garments. But "he heard," saith she, "that I lifted up my voice, and left his garments, and went out." And wherefore then didst thou take them from him? since unto one suffering violence, the one thing desirable is to be rid of the intruder.
But not from hence alone, but also from the subsequent events, shall I be able to point out his good-will and his love. Yea even when he fell into a necessity of mentioning the cause of his imprisonment, and his remaining there, he did not even then declare the whole course of the story. But what saith he? "I too have done nothing: but indeed I was stolen out of the land of the Hebrews;" and he no where mentioned the adulteress nor doth he plume himself on the matter, which would have been any one's feeling, if not for vain-glory, yet so as not to appear to have been cast into that cell for an evil cause. For if men in the act of doing wrong by no means abstain even so from blaming the same things, although to do so brings reproach; of what admiration is not he worthy, because, pure as he was he did not mention the woman's passion nor make a show of her sin; nor when he ascended the throne and became ruler of all Egypt, remember the wrong done by the woman nor exact any punishment?
Seest thou how he cared for her? but her's was not love, but madness. For it was not Joseph that she loved, but she sought to fulfil her own lust. And the very words too, if one would examine them accurately, were accompanied with wrath and great blood-thirstiness. For what saith she? "Thou hast brought in a Hebrew servant to mock us:" upbraiding her husband for the kindness; and she exhibited the garments, having become herself more savage than any wild beast: but not so he. And why speak I of his good-will to her, when he was such, we know, towards his brethren who would slay him; and never said one harsh thing of them, either within doors or without?