philosophers of old of whom Jerome tells us in his second book
against Jovinianus.

"Through the senses," says Jerome, "as through so many windows, do
vices win entrance to the soul. The metropolis and citadel of the
mind cannot be taken unless the army of the foe has first rushed in
through the gates. If any one delights in the games of the circus,
in the contests of athletes, in the versatility of actors, in the
beauty of women, in the glitter of gems and raiment, or in aught
else like to these, then the freedom of his soul is made captive
through the windows of his eyes, and thus is fulfilled the
prophecy: `For death is come up into our windows' (Jer. ix, 21).
And then, when the wedges of doubt have, as it were, been driven
into the citadels of our minds through these gateways, where will
be its liberty? where its fortitude? where its thought of God? Most
of all does the sense of touch paint for itself the pictures of
past raptures, compelling the soul to dwell fondly upon remembered
iniquities, and so to practice in imagination those things which
reality denies to it.

"Heeding such counsel, therefore, many among the philosophers
forsook the thronging ways of the cities and the pleasant gardens
of the countryside, with their well-watered fields, their shady
trees, the song of birds, the mirror of the fountain, the murmur of
the stream, the many charms for eye and ear, fearing lest their
souls should grow soft amid luxury and abundance of riches, and
lest their virtue should thereby be defiled. For it is perilous to
turn your eyes often to those things whereby you may some day be
made captive, or to attempt the possession of that which it would
go hard with you to do without. Thus the Pythagoreans shunned all