The Great Didactic

The Ultimate End of Man is Beyond This Life

1. Reason itself tells us that a creature of such excellence is destined for a higher end than all other creatures: to be united with God, the summit of all perfection, glory, and happiness, and to share in His absolute glory and happiness forever.

2. Scripture makes this clear, and we hold it as firm truth, but it's worth pausing to trace the various ways God has signaled that our true destination lies beyond this present life.

3. Consider, first, the act of creation itself. God did not simply command man into existence, as He did with the rest of His creatures. Instead, after deliberate and solemn consideration, He shaped a body for man with His own hands and breathed the soul into it directly from Himself.

4. Our own nature testifies that this life is not enough for us. We live, in fact, a threefold life: the vegetative, the animal, and the intellectual or spiritual. The first is confined entirely to the body. The second reaches outward through the senses and physical movement. The third, however, is capable of existing on its own, as we can see in the case of angels. Since it's plain that this highest form of life is heavily overshadowed and constrained in us by the two lower forms, it follows necessarily that a future state must exist in which it can be brought to its full perfection.

5. Everything we do and feel in this life reveals that we never reach our ultimate end here, and that both we ourselves and everything connected with us are oriented toward something beyond. Whatever we are, do, think, say, plan, acquire, or possess carries within it a principle of gradation. We climb continually and reach higher levels, yet we keep pressing forward and never arrive at the highest point.

At the beginning, a man is nothing, and has been nonexistent from eternity. He takes his origin from his mother's womb. What is a man at that stage? Nothing more than an unformed mass endowed with the spark of life. This mass soon takes on the shape of a human body, but still has neither sensation nor movement.

Later, it begins to move and, through a natural process, bursts forth into the world. Gradually the eyes, ears, and other organs of sense appear. In time, the internal senses develop and the child becomes aware that he sees, hears, and feels. Then the intellect comes into being by recognizing the differences between objects, while finally the will takes on its role as a guiding principle, displaying desire for certain things and aversion to others.

6. Yet in all these individual stages of progress we find nothing but succession. The intelligence underlying matter reveals itself by degrees, like the first light of dawn breaking through the darkness of night, and as long as life remains, there is a continual increase of light, unless a person becomes utterly brutish. Our actions are at first weak, unformed, and confused; then the virtues of the mind unfold in proportion to the growing strength of the body, so that as long as we live, unless the deepest lethargy takes hold and buries us alive, we are continually exercising our faculties.

In a worthy mind all these functions tend toward higher development, and we can find no end to the things we desire or wish to accomplish.

7. Wherever a person turns, he can confirm this through experience. If someone has an excessive desire for wealth, nothing will satisfy his greed, even if he possesses the whole world, as was evident in the case of Alexander. If someone burns with the desire for honor, he will find no rest even if the whole world adores him.

If someone gives himself over to pleasure, rivers of delight may wash over all his senses, yet he grows accustomed to them, and his appetite continues to crave one thing after another. If someone applies his mind to the pursuit of wisdom, he will find no end to it, for the more a person knows, the more he recognizes his own ignorance. Solomon was right to say that the eye never grows tired of seeing, nor the ear of hearing.

8. The examples of those who die teach us that death does not have the final word on existence. Those who have lived righteously rejoice at the prospect of entering a better life, while those who cling to this present world, realizing they must leave it and move on, begin to tremble and seek to make peace with God and man, if there is still any chance of doing so. And though the body, worn down by pain, grows faint, the senses dim, and life itself slips away, the mind often functions more vividly than ever, as we see when a dying man carefully gathers his family and heirs around his deathbed. Whoever watches a wise and godly man die sees nothing more than a clay structure crumbling apart; whoever listens to him hears something like an angel's voice and cannot help but recognize that the one who dwells within is simply departing while the house collapses around him. Even the pagans understood this. The Romans, according to Festus, called death abitio (a going away), and the Greeks frequently used οἴχεσθαι (to go away) in place of "to die" or "to perish." This can only mean that death was understood as nothing more than a transition to another life.

9. This truth becomes even clearer to us as Christians, now that Christ, the Son of the living God, has been sent from heaven to restore in us the image of God. He was conceived of a woman, walked among men, then died, rose again, and ascended into heaven, and death had no more power over Him. He has been called "our forerunner" (Heb 6:20), "the firstborn among his brethren" (Rom 8:29), "the head over all things" (Eph 1:22), and the pattern for all who are to be formed in the image of God (Rom 8:29). Just as He did not come to this earth to remain on it, but so that, when His course was finished, He might pass into the eternal dwelling places, so we too, as His companions, must press on and must not treat this world as our permanent home.

10. Each of us, then, has three dwelling places: the mother's womb, the earth, and heaven. We pass from the first to the second through birth, and from the second to the third through death and resurrection. From the third we never depart, but rest there for all eternity.

In the first stage, life is simple, marked only by the beginnings of movement and sensation. In the second, we have life, motion, sense, and the first stirrings of intellect. In the third, we find the full and complete abundance of all things.

11. The first life prepares us for the second, and the second prepares us for the third, while the third exists for its own sake and has no end. The passage from the first life into the second, and from the second into the third, is narrow and painful; in both cases, some outer covering must be shed (in the first case, the afterbirth; in the second, the body itself), just as a chick casts off its shell when it hatches. In this way, the first and second dwelling places function like workshops: in the first, the body is formed for use in the life that follows; in the second, the rational soul is shaped for use in eternal life. In the third dwelling place, both body and soul will reach their perfection and fulfillment.

12. The Israelites serve as a fitting illustration of this pattern. They were born, so to speak, in Egypt. From there, through mountain passes and across the Red Sea, they were led into the wilderness. They built temples, learned the law, and fought against many peoples, until at last, having crossed the Jordan with great difficulty, they inherited Canaan, the land flowing with milk and honey.

This Life is but a Preparation for Eternity

1. This life, since its true destination lies elsewhere, is not properly a life at all, but only the prelude to a real and everlasting existence. This will become clear from three sources: first, from the witness of our own inner experience; second, from the testimony of the world around us; and third, from the witness of Holy Scripture.

2. When we examine ourselves honestly, we find that our faculties develop in sequence, each stage preparing the ground for the next. Consider: our first life is spent in the womb. But what is the purpose of that existence? Certainly not the womb-life itself. Everything that happens there is designed to shape the embryo into a suitable home and instrument for the soul, ready for use in the earthly life that follows. Once that preparation is complete, we burst into the light, because no further development is possible in that confined space. In the same way, this earthly life is nothing more than a preparation for eternity. It exists so that the soul, working through the body, can prepare whatever it will need in the life to come. Once that work is done, we depart, because nothing more can be accomplished here. Many of us, however, are snatched away before we are ready, or are hurled toward destruction, much like embryos lost from the womb before their time, destined not for life but for death. In every such case, God permits it, but the guilty cause is human.

3. The visible world itself, from whatever angle we consider it, bears witness that it was created for one purpose: to serve as the birthplace, the sustaining ground, and the training school of the human race. God chose not to create all human beings at once, as He did with the angels, but instead created a single man and woman who would multiply through generations. Since this process required a great span of time, He granted humanity thousands of years to fill the earth. And so that this long period would not pass in confusion, silence, and darkness, He stretched out the heavens and set within them the sun, the moon, and the stars, commanding them to circle endlessly and mark off the hours, the days, the months, and the years. Furthermore, since the beings He intended to bring forth were physical creatures who needed a place to live, air to breathe, room to move, food to sustain them, and clothing to cover them, He constructed at the lowest level of the firmament a solid foundation: the earth. Around it He poured the atmosphere, watered it with seas and rivers, and called forth plants and animals of every kind, not merely to meet basic needs, but to fill life with richness and delight. And because He had made humanity in His own image and endowed us with minds, He ensured that those minds would have proper nourishment as well. He therefore divided each category of creatures into countless species, so that this visible universe might serve as a constant mirror of God's infinite power, wisdom, and goodness. Through contemplating it, humanity would be drawn to marvel at the Creator, moved to acknowledge Him, and drawn to love Him, as the might, the beauty, and the sweetness that lie hidden in the depths of eternity shine outward through these visible signs, making themselves available to be touched, seen, and tasted. The world, then, is nothing less than our nursery, our place of nurture, and our school. There is a place beyond it to which we will be transferred when we have finished our time in this school's classrooms and are sent on to the university that lasts forever. Reason alone makes this truth clear, but it shines even more plainly in the words of God.

4. God Himself testifies in Hosea that the heavens exist for the sake of the earth, the earth exists to produce grain, wine, and oil, and these in turn exist for humanity (Hos 2:21-22). Everything, then, including time itself, exists for the sake of human beings. No greater span of time will be granted than what is needed to complete the full number of the elect (Rev 6:11). Once that number is reached, the heavens and the earth will pass away and leave no trace behind (Rev 11:1). A new heaven and a new earth will appear, in which justice will dwell (Rev 21:1; 2 Pet 3:13). And finally, the way Scripture speaks of this present life makes clear that it is nothing more than preparation for the life to come. The biblical writers call it a way, a journey, a gate, and a waiting period, while they call us pilgrims, strangers, sojourners, and people looking forward to another and lasting home (Gen 47:9; Ps 39:12; Job 7:10; Luke 12:33).

5. The facts themselves, and the plain condition of every human being, confirm this truth. What mortal has ever been born and not eventually vanished from the earth? We have been made for eternity, and that reality means our existence here is one of transition. This is why Christ says, "Therefore be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect" (Matt 24:44). It is also why, as Scripture teaches, God sometimes calls people home in early youth: He sees that they are ready, as was the case with Enoch (Gen 5:24; Wis 4:14). And why, on the other hand, does He show such patience toward the wicked? Because He does not want anyone to be overtaken unprepared, but rather that each person should repent (2 Pet 3:9). If someone abuses that patience, however, God allows him to be taken away.

6. Just as our time in the womb is clearly a preparation for life in the body, so too is our life in the body a preparation for the life that follows it, the life that will never end. How fortunate is the child who leaves the womb with healthy, well-formed limbs! Yet a thousand times more fortunate is the person who departs this life with a soul that is pure and clean.

There Are Three Stages in the Preparation for Eternity: to Know Oneself (and with Oneself All Things); to Rule Oneself; and to Direct Oneself to God

1. It is clear, then, that humanity's ultimate end is eternal happiness with God. The intermediate ends we pursue in this passing life are equally clear from the words of the divine reflection that the Creator spoke when He was about to make humanity: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth" (Gen 1:26).

2. From this it is plain that humanity occupies a place among visible creatures in three distinct ways: (i.) as a rational creature, (ii.) as the lord of all creatures, and (iii.) as a creature that is both the image and the delight of its Creator. These three aspects are so deeply bound together that they cannot be separated, for in them lies the foundation of both the present life and the life to come.

3. To be a rational creature means naming all things and reasoning carefully about everything the world contains, as we see in Gen 2:19, or in Solomon's words (Wis 7:17): to understand how the world was made and how its elements operate; the beginning, middle, and end of time; the movements of the sun and the changing of seasons; the cycles of years and the positions of stars; the natures of living creatures and the ferocity of wild beasts; the force of winds and the reasoning of human minds; the diversity of plants and the properties of roots; in short, everything hidden and everything plain. Humanity is called to master the crafts and the art of speech, so that nothing remains unknown, whether small or great, in any field of knowledge (Sir 5:12). For only when a person understands the properties of all things can he truly justify the title of "rational being."

4. To be lord over all creatures means putting everything to its proper use by ensuring that each thing fulfills its legitimate purpose; it means conducting oneself with the dignity of a ruler, that is, with gravity and righteousness among created things: adoring only the one above him, his Creator; recognizing God's angels, fellow servants of humanity, as equals; and regarding all other things as far beneath him. In this way, a person preserves the dignity that has been granted to him. He should enslave himself to no creature, not even to his own flesh and blood, but should use all things freely in his service. He should understand where, when, how, and to what extent each thing may wisely be used, how far the body's desires should be indulged, and how far the interests of his neighbor should be considered. In short, he should be capable of governing with wisdom his own movements and actions, both inward and outward, as well as those of others.

5. Finally, to be the image of God means representing the perfection of one's Archetype, who says, "You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy" (Lev 19:2).

6. From this it follows that human beings are naturally called to three things: (1) knowledge of all things; (2) authority over all things and over themselves; (3) the orientation of themselves and all things toward God, the source of everything. If we want to capture these three callings in three familiar words, they are: (i.) Erudition, (ii.) Virtue or upright character, and (iii.) Religion or piety. Erudition encompasses knowledge of all things, arts, and languages; Virtue includes not only outward conduct but the entire disposition of our inner and outer life; and Religion refers to that deep, inward reverence by which the human mind attaches itself to the supreme God and remains bound to Him.

7. In these three things lies the whole dignity of human existence, for they alone form the foundation of both this life and the life to come. Everything else, whether health, strength, beauty, wealth, honor, friendship, good fortune, or long life, is, even when God grants it, nothing more than an outward ornament. When a person greedily chases after these things, consumes himself in their pursuit, and buries himself in them while neglecting what truly matters, they become empty vanities and harmful distractions.

8. Let me illustrate this with an example. A timepiece, whether a sundial or a mechanical clock, is an elegant and highly useful instrument for measuring time, and its essential value depends on the precise fitting together of all its parts. The casing, the engravings, the decorative chasings, and the gilding are additions that improve its outward appearance but contribute nothing to how well it works. If someone were to prefer a beautiful clock over an accurate one, people would laugh at him for failing to understand where the real value of such an object lies. The same principle applies to a horse: its worth consists in its strength, combined with spirit, speed, and responsiveness to its rider. A flowing tail or a knotted one, a carefully combed mane, gilded bits, bright coverings, and elaborate trappings may add decorative beauty, certainly, yet we call a man a fool when we see him judging a horse's quality by such things.

Finally, good health depends on food being properly prepared and on the digestive organs functioning well. Sleeping on soft beds, dressing finely, and eating delicacies add nothing to our health; they actually detract from it. A man is therefore a fool who prefers rich food to wholesome food. But far greater, and to his own ruin, is the fool who, claiming to be a human being, pays more attention to the ornaments of human existence than to its essentials. The Preacher accordingly condemns as ignorant and impious those who treat life as a pastime or a simple pursuit of wealth, declaring that the praise and blessing of God is very far from them (Wis 15:12, 19).

9. It follows, then, that we move toward our ultimate end in proportion to how seriously we pursue learning, virtue, and piety in this world.

These three are undoubtedly the central concerns of our life; everything else is either a side channel, a hindrance, or mere decoration.

The Seeds of These Three (Learning, Virtue, and Piety) Are Naturally Implanted in Us

1. By the word nature we mean not the corruption that has taken hold of all people since the Fall (on account of which we are naturally called children of wrath, incapable on our own of having any good thoughts), but rather our first and original condition, the starting point to which we must be recalled. It was in this sense that Ludovicus Vives wrote, "What else is a Christian but a man restored to his own nature, and brought back, as it were, to the starting point from which the devil has thrown him?" (De Concordia et Discordia, Book 1). In the same spirit, we should read Seneca's words: "This is wisdom, to return to nature and to the position from which universal error (that is, the error of the human race, set in motion by the first men) has driven us," and again, "Man is not good but becomes so, as, mindful of his origin, he strives toward equality with God. No man who is viciously inclined ventures the ascent toward the place from which he descended" (Epistles, 93).

2. By the voice of nature we mean the universal Providence of God, or the influence of Divine Goodness, which never stops working all things in all creation. In other words, it is the force that continually develops each creature toward the purpose for which it was destined. For it is a mark of divine wisdom to do nothing in vain, that is, nothing without a clear purpose or without the means suited to that purpose.

Whatever exists, therefore, exists for some purpose, and has been equipped with the organs and tools necessary to reach it. It has also been given a natural inclination toward that end, so that nothing moves toward its goal unwillingly or reluctantly, but rather eagerly and gladly, driven by the instinct that pain and death will follow if anything stands in the way. And so it is certain that man, too, is naturally fitted for understanding the world, for living in harmony with the moral law, and above all for loving God (since we have already seen that these are the very purposes for which he was made), and that the roots of these three principles are planted in him just as firmly as the roots of a tree are planted in the earth beneath it.

3. In order to fully grasp what the son of Sirach meant when he said that Wisdom has laid everlasting foundations in man (Sir 1:14), let us examine the foundations of Wisdom, Virtue, and Piety that have been placed within us, so that we can see what a remarkable instrument of wisdom the human being truly is.

4. It's clear that human beings are naturally capable of acquiring knowledge of all things, and the first reason for this is that man is made in the image of God. An image, if it's accurate, must reproduce the essential features of what it represents; otherwise it isn't really an image at all. Now, omniscience is among the foremost attributes of God, and it follows that some reflection of this must appear in man. Why shouldn't it? Man stands at the center of God's creation, possessing a mind so clear and receptive that it resembles a spherical mirror hanging in a room, capturing the images of everything around it. And we mean everything: the mind doesn't only grasp what is close at hand, but also what is distant, whether in space or in time. It overcomes difficulties, tracks down what is hidden, uncovers what is veiled, and exhausts itself probing what seems beyond reach. Such is the mind's power, vast and without limit. Even if a thousand years were given to a person, during which he could continually learn one new thing after another, he would still find some corner of reality from which fresh knowledge could be drawn.

The capacity of the mind is so boundless that in its act of perceiving, it resembles an abyss. The body is confined within narrow physical limits; the voice travels somewhat farther; sight reaches only as far as the vault of the sky. But the mind cannot be bounded by heaven or by anything beyond it. It reaches as far above the highest heavens as it does below the deepest depths, and it would do so even if those distances were a thousand times greater than they are, for it moves through space with breathtaking speed. How, then, could we deny that it is capable of fathoming and grasping all things?

5. Philosophers have called man a Microcosm, or miniature of the universe, because he contains within himself all the elements that are spread across the Macrocosm, the wider world. The truth of this claim is demonstrated elsewhere. With that in mind, the human mind as it enters this world is rightly compared to a seed or kernel, within which the full plant or tree genuinely exists, even though its form cannot yet be seen. This is clear enough: a seed placed in the ground sends roots downward and shoots upward, and these, driven by their own inner force, spread into branches and leaves, fill out with foliage, and eventually bear flowers and fruit. Nothing, therefore, needs to be brought to a person from outside. What is needed is simply that what lies coiled within him be unfolded and brought to light, with careful attention given to each element in turn. Pythagoras held that knowledge was so natural to human beings that a seven-year-old boy, if questioned thoughtfully on every problem of philosophy, should be able to give a sound answer to each one, since the light of Reason is a sufficient standard and measure of all things. And yet, since the Fall, Reason has grown dim and tangled, no longer able to free itself on its own, while those who should have helped it find its way have more often made the knot tighter.

6. The rational soul within us is equipped with sense organs that function like scouts and messengers, gathering information about everything in the external world. These are sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch, and nothing escapes their reach. Since everything in the visible universe can be seen, heard, smelled, tasted, or touched, and its nature and quality can be discerned through these means, it follows that nothing in the universe lies beyond the grasp of a person endowed with sense and reason.

7. Beyond the desire for knowledge that is planted within him, a person is not merely tolerant of effort but genuinely hungry for it. This shows up in earliest childhood and stays with us throughout life. Who doesn't always want to see, hear, or handle something new? Who doesn't enjoy visiting a new place, having a fresh conversation, telling a story, or encountering something they haven't experienced before? In short, the eyes, the ears, the sense of touch, and the mind itself are constantly reaching outward in search of something to feed on, because an active nature finds nothing more unbearable than idleness and stagnation. Even the fact that uneducated people admire the learned is a sign that they feel the pull of this natural desire. They would want to share in that wisdom, if only they believed it was possible for them. Since they don't, they can only sigh and look with wonder at those who have moved further along than they have.

8. The examples of self-taught individuals show us most clearly that, under nature's guidance, a person can reach genuine knowledge of all things. Many have made greater progress through their own study, or (as Bernard puts it) with oaks and beeches as their teachers, than others have made under the tedious instruction of tutors. Doesn't this tell us that, in truth, everything already exists within a person; that the lamp, the oil, the tinder, and all the necessary tools are already there; and that if someone is skilled enough to strike a spark, catch it, and light the lamp, he can immediately see and fully enjoy the remarkable treasures of God's wisdom, both within himself and in the wider world; that is, he can grasp the numerical and proportional order of all creation? When the inner lamp goes unlit, but the torches of foreign opinions are carried around outside, the effect is much like carrying lights around a man locked in a dark dungeon: the rays slip through the cracks, but the full light cannot get in. As Seneca puts it: "The seeds of all the arts are planted within us, and God the master draws intellect out of the darkness."

9. The things to which our minds may be compared teach the same lesson. The earth, which Scripture often uses as an image for the human heart, receives seeds of every kind. A single garden can be planted with herbs, flowers, and aromatic plants of every variety, provided the gardener brings both skill and diligence to the work. And the greater the variety, the more pleasing the sight, the sweeter the fragrance, and the more the heart is refreshed. Aristotle compared the human mind to a blank tablet on which nothing had yet been written, but on which anything could be inscribed. Just as a writer or painter can put whatever he wishes on a bare surface, provided he knows his craft, so too can a skilled teacher imprint anything on the human mind. If the result falls short, we can be quite certain the fault lies not with the tablet itself (unless it carries some inherent defect), but with the ignorance of the one doing the writing or painting. There is, however, one important difference: on a physical tablet, the writing is constrained by space, while the mind has no such limit. You can keep writing and engraving on it indefinitely, finding no boundary, because, as has already been shown, the mind is without end.

10. Consider also the comparison of the brain, that workshop of thought, to wax: either receiving the impression of a seal or being shaped into small figures. The analogy is a fitting one. Just as wax accepts any form and can be molded and remolded however one wishes, so the brain receives the images of all things and takes into itself whatever the entire universe contains. This comparison sheds remarkable light on the true nature of thought and knowledge. Whatever makes an impression on my sight, hearing, smell, taste, or touch stands in relation to me as a seal, pressing the image of that object into my brain. The analogy holds so well that even when the object is removed from my eyes, my ears, my nostrils, or my hand, its image remains with me. It cannot do otherwise, unless my attention had wandered and the original impression was too faint to hold. If I have seen or spoken with someone, if while traveling I have passed a mountain, a river, a field, a forest, or a town, or if I have read something carefully in a book, all of these things are stamped into the brain. As often as the memory of them surfaces, the effect is much the same as if I were seeing them again with my eyes, hearing them with my ears, tasting them, or touching them. And though the brain places some impressions ahead of others, and receives some more clearly and vividly than the rest, it still receives, represents, and retains them all, in one way or another.

11. Here we see a mirror of God's remarkable wisdom, in His ability to arrange that the small mass of our brains can hold so many thousands of images. Consider what any of us can remember, and this applies especially to scholars: the details of things we saw, heard, tasted, read, or gathered through experience and reasoning, sometimes many years before. All of that must be stored somewhere in the brain. And yet the images of objects we have previously seen, heard, or read about number in the millions and more, multiplying daily as we encounter new sights, sounds, books, and experiences, and every one of them is carefully preserved. What unfathomable wisdom and power God has displayed here! Solomon marvels that all the rivers run into the sea and yet the sea is never full (Eccl 1:7), but who could fail to marvel even more at this abyss of memory, which takes in everything, gives it all back again, and yet is never overfull or completely empty? Our minds are, in truth, greater than the universe itself, since whatever contains a thing must necessarily be larger than the thing it contains.

12. Finally, the eye (or a mirror) resembles the mind in many ways. Hold anything before it, whatever its shape or color, and it will quickly produce a matching image of its own. This works naturally, of course, unless you are in the dark, or have turned away, or are standing too far back, or are blocking the impression somehow, or disrupting it with movement. In those cases, the result will obviously fall short. I am speaking of what happens under normal conditions, when light is present and the object is properly positioned. Just as the eye needs no coaxing to open and look, since it naturally thirsts for light and takes genuine pleasure in gazing, handles any object placed before it (provided too many aren't thrown at it at once), and can never truly be satisfied by seeing, so too does the mind thirst for objects. It longs and yearns to observe, reaches out for and seizes on all kinds of information, and never tires, as long as it isn't overwhelmed by too much at once and things are presented to it one at a time, in the right order.

13. Even the pagan philosophers recognized that moral harmony was essential to human life. Lacking the higher light that heaven grants as the surest guide to eternal life, they held up these faint sparks as torches instead, a futile effort. Cicero writes: "The seeds of virtue are sown in our dispositions, and if they were allowed to develop, nature herself would lead us to the life of the blest." That goes a bit too far. "As it is, however, from the moment we are brought into the light of day, we move continually in all wickedness, so that we almost seem to suck in faults with our nurse's milk" (Tuscul. iii.). The claim that the seeds of virtue are born with every person rests on two interlocking arguments: (1) every person takes delight in harmony, and (2) the human being, both inwardly and outwardly, is nothing but a harmony.

14. That humans delight in harmony and pursue it eagerly is self-evident. Who doesn't take pleasure in a well-proportioned person, a graceful horse, a skillfully painted portrait, or a beautiful landscape? And what accounts for this if not that the balance of parts and colors brings genuine enjoyment? This pleasure of the eye is entirely natural. Who isn't moved by music? Because a harmony of voices creates a pleasing consonance. Who doesn't enjoy well-seasoned food? Because the right blending of flavors delights the palate. Every person finds pleasure in moderate warmth, moderate coolness, and the moderate rest or movement of the body. Why? Because everything that is balanced is agreeable and life-giving to our nature, while everything that lacks moderation is hostile and harmful to it.

Even the virtues of others inspire admiration in some people, for those who lack good qualities can still appreciate them in others, even if they don't imitate them, believing that good habits are impossible to develop once vice has taken hold. Why, then, shouldn't each person value those same qualities in themselves? We are surely blind if we fail to recognize that all of us carry within us the seeds of harmony.

15. In truth, man is nothing less than a living harmony, in both body and mind. Consider how the great world itself resembles an immense piece of clockwork, assembled from countless wheels and bells, and arranged with such artistry that every part depends on every other, sustaining and balancing the whole in perpetual motion. Man is built on the same principle. The body itself is a marvel of construction. At its center is the heart, the source of all life and movement, from which every other member receives both motion and its proper measure. The brain serves as the weight that drives the mechanism, drawing and releasing the other wheels and limbs through the nerves as though through ropes, while the full variety of actions, both inward and outward, depends on the precise proportion of these movements working together.

16. In the movements of the soul, the will is the most important wheel in the mechanism, while the desires and affections serve as the weights that pull it in one direction or another. Reason functions as the escapement, measuring and determining what should be pursued or avoided, and to what degree. All the soul's other movements resemble the smaller wheels that depend on the principal one. Therefore, as long as the desires and affections are not given too much weight, and as long as reason selects and excludes properly, the harmony of virtues will follow as a natural consequence, consisting in a well-balanced blending of the active and the passive.

17. Man, then, is in himself nothing but a harmony. And just as we would not immediately discard a clock or a musical instrument that a skilled craftsman had built simply because it had fallen out of order and become damaged (since it can always be repaired and restored), so too with man: no matter how deeply disordered by his fall into sin, he can, through the grace of God and by the right methods, be brought back into harmony once more.

18. That the roots of piety are present in every human being is demonstrated by the fact that we are made in the image of God. An image implies likeness, and the principle that like is drawn to like is an unchanging law of nature (Eccl 12:7). Since the only being truly equal to man is the One in whose image he was made, it follows that there is no direction in which human desire more naturally tends than toward the source from which it originated, provided that a person clearly understands the conditions of his own existence.

19. This same truth is confirmed by the example of the moral philosophers, who, guided by no word of God but only by the blind instinct of nature, nonetheless acknowledged the Deity, venerated Him, and called upon His name, even if they fell into error in how they practiced their religion. "All men have some conception of the gods, and all assign the highest place to a divine being," writes Aristotle (De Caelo, i. 3). Seneca adds: "The worship of the gods consists first in believing in them; then in acknowledging their majesty and their goodness, without which no majesty exists; then in recognizing that it is they who preside over the world, hold everything under their dominion, and act as guardians of the human race" (Epist. 96). How closely this resembles what the Apostle writes: "He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that seek after him" (Heb 11:6).

20. Plato also writes: "God is the highest good, elevated far above all existence and above nature, toward which all creation strives" (Timaeus). And this is so true, that God is the highest good which all things seek, that even Cicero could say: "Nature itself is the first to teach us piety" (De Natura Deorum, i.). This is because, as Lactantius writes (bk. iv, ch. 28): "We receive pardon on the condition that we give just and fitting worship to the God who made us. Him alone let us know and follow. By this chain of piety we have been bound and linked to God, and it is from this very fact that religion takes its name."

21. We must acknowledge that the natural desire for God as the highest good has been corrupted by the Fall and has gone badly astray, so that no person, relying on their own strength alone, could find their way back to the right path. But in those whom God illumines through His Word and His Spirit, that desire is so thoroughly renewed that we find David crying out: "Whom have I in heaven but thee? And there is none on earth that I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever" (Ps 73:25-26).

22. Therefore, while we are searching for remedies to corruption, let no one throw that corruption in our faces. God will remove it through His Holy Spirit and through the use of natural means. Consider Nebuchadnezzar: when human reason was stripped from him and he was given the mind of a beast, he still retained the hope of returning to his senses and to his royal dignity, as soon as he acknowledged that heaven stood above him (Dan 4:25). In the same way, we who are trees uprooted from God's Paradise still have our roots, and those roots can put forth new growth when the rain and sunlight of God's grace fall upon them. Did God not, soon after the Fall and after the exile He threatened as the penalty of death, sow in our hearts the seeds of fresh grace through the promise of His blessed offspring? Did He not send His Son to restore us to our former estate?

23. It is shameful, wicked, and a clear sign of ingratitude that we constantly complain about our fallen condition yet make no effort to change it; that we readily point to what the old Adam can do to us, but never discover what the new Adam, Christ, can do for us. The Apostle speaks in his own name and in that of his Redeemer: "I can do all things through him that strengtheneth me" (Phil 4:13). If a shoot grafted onto a willow, a thorn, or any other shrub can still germinate and bear fruit, what might it do when grafted onto a stock of its own kind? Consider the Apostle's argument in Rom 11:24. Beyond this, if God can raise up children of Abraham from stones (Matt 3:9), why should He not be able to stir good works in humanity, which was the son of God from the first creation, adopted anew through Christ, and born again through the Spirit of grace?

24. Let us take care not to neglect the grace of God, which He stands ready to pour out on us in full measure. If we, who are united with Christ through faith and dedicated to Him through the spirit of adoption, deny that we and our children are fit for the things of God's kingdom, then what did Christ mean when He said the kingdom of heaven belongs to children? And how can He point us to them and tell us to become like little children if we want to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matt 18:3)?