The stream that issues through the mouth and tongue of the ill-controlled soul floods in wherever there are ears to hear. Some of these have spacious cisterns which retain the influx. Others, because the passages are narrow, cannot imbibe the stream, and the overflow pouring forth unchecked is dispersed in all directions, while to its surface rise and float the secret truths, and thus like a mass of flotsam our most precious treasures are borne away in the current. And therefore they, who became partakers in the lesser before the greater mysteries, judged wisely, as I think, for they “baked their dough which they brought out of Egypt into buried unleavened cakes” (Exod. 12:39), that is, they kneaded the savage untamed passion with aid of reason that softened it as though it were food. And the method by which they softened it and wrought it to something better was revealed to them by divine inspiration, and they did not utter it aloud, but treasured it in silence. Their hearts were not lifted up by the revelation; rather they were bowed in submission, and all proud thoughts were humbled.
On the Sacrifices of Abel and Cain 16
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