For God’s purpose, according to which he did not make the human being to perish but to live forever, abides unchanging. When his kindness sees shining in us the slightest glimmer of good will, which he himself has in fact sparked from the hard flint of our heart, he fosters it, stirs it up and strengthens it with his inspiration, desiring all to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.^[1] For, he says, it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.^[2] And again he says, God does not wish a soul to perish, but he withdraws and reflects, lest one who has been cast down perish utterly.

Moreover, due measure befits even our words and instructions, that it may not seem as though there was either too great mildness or too much harshness. Many prefer to be too mild, so as to appear to be good. But it is certain that nothing feigned or false can bear the form of true virtue; no, it cannot even last. At first it flourishes; then, as time goes on, like a flower it fades and passes away, but what is true and sincere has a deep root. . . .

Absalom was king David’s son, known for his beauty, of splendid appearance and in the heyday of youth; so that no other man like him was found in Israel.^[1] He was without a blemish from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. He had his own chariot and horses and fifty men to run before him. He rose at early dawn and stood before the gate in the way, and whoever he knew to be seeking the judgment of the king, he called to himself, saying . . . Is there no one given to you by the king to hear you? Who will make me a judge? And whosoever will come to me, that has need of judgment, I will give him justice. With such words he cajoled them. And when they came to make obeisance to him, stretching forth his hand he took hold of them and kissed them. So he turned the hearts of all to himself. For flattery of this sort quickly finds its way to touch the very depths of the heart.

For nothing is so necessary for the proper conduct of affairs as prudence; and there is no greater hindrance to prudence than wickedness and malice and hollowness. Look at people suffering from a liver ailment. How unsightly they are, with all their bloom withered away. How weak they are, and puny, and unfit for anything. So also are souls of this nature. What else is wickedness but a jaundice of the soul? Wickedness then has no strength in it. Indeed, it has none whatever. Will you mind that I again make what I am saying plain to you . . . by setting before you the portraits of a treacherous and a guileless man? Absalom was a treacherous man and stole all the people’s hearts. And observe how great was his treachery. He went about, it says, and said, ‘Have you no justice?’ wishing to conciliate every one to himself. But David was guileless. What then? Look at the end of them both, look, how full of utter madness was the former! For inasmuch as he looked solely to the hurt of his father, in all other things he was blinded.