Book II. Of the Knowledge of God the Redeemer in Christ, which was first manifested to the fathers under the Law, and afterward also to us in the Gospel.

Chapter I. That by Adam’s fall and defection the whole human race was made subject to the curse, and degenerated from its first estate; wherein also original sin is treated.

1.1.
Not without cause has the ancient proverb always so strongly commended to man the knowledge of himself. For if it is thought shameful to be ignorant of those things which belong to the conduct of human life, much more shameful is ignorance of ourselves. By this ignorance it comes to pass that, whenever we must take counsel in any necessary matter, we wander miserably and are, indeed, altogether blind.

But the more useful this instruction is, the more carefully we must guard against misusing it, as we see certain philosophers have done. For when they exhort man to know himself, they set before him this end: that he should not be ignorant of his own dignity and excellence. They would have him behold in himself nothing but that from which he may swell with empty confidence and be puffed up with pride.

But the true knowledge of ourselves consists first in this: that, considering what was given us in creation, and how graciously God still continues His favour toward us, we should know how great the excellence of our nature would be, if it had remained sound. Yet at the same time we must remember that we have nothing properly our own, but hold all that God has bestowed upon us as a thing lent, that we may always depend upon Him.

Then we must set before ourselves our miserable condition after Adam’s fall. The sense of this should cast down all our glory and confidence, cover us with shame, and bring us to true humility. For as God at the beginning formed us in His own image, that He might raise our minds both to the pursuit of virtue and to the meditation of eternal life, so it is profitable for us to know that we were endued with reason and understanding for this very purpose: that by living a holy and honourable life we might press on toward the appointed end of blessed immortality. Thus the nobility of our race, by which we are distinguished from the brute beasts, ought not to be buried under our sloth.

But that first dignity can never come to mind without the sad spectacle of our foulness and shame immediately presenting itself on the other side, since in the person of the first man we fell away from our original state. From this arises both self-loathing and self-displeasure, and true humility; and from it is kindled afresh a new desire to seek God, in whom each man may recover those good things of which he now finds himself utterly empty and deprived.

1.2.
This, then, is what the truth of God requires when it bids us examine ourselves: it demands such a knowledge as may draw us far away from all confidence in our own strength, strip us of every ground of boasting, and bring us to submission. We must hold fast this rule if we would reach the right end both of wisdom and of action.

And I am not ignorant how much more pleasing is that view which invites us rather to consider our supposed excellencies than to look upon our miserable poverty and shame, which ought to cover us with confusion. For there is nothing to which the mind of man is more inclined than to be soothed by flattery; and therefore, whenever he hears his powers highly praised, he is far too ready to believe it. It is therefore no wonder that the greater part of mankind has erred here so ruinously.

For since all mortals are born with a self-love more than blind, they very willingly persuade themselves that there is nothing in them which they ought justly to hate. Thus, even without any outside defence, this most vain opinion easily wins credit everywhere: that man is abundantly sufficient in himself to live well and happily. And if some are minded to speak more modestly, and grant something to God lest they should seem to claim all for themselves, yet they divide matters in such a way that the chief ground of glory and confidence still remains in themselves.

Then if speech is added that tickles the pride which of itself itches in the very marrow of man, nothing can be imagined more agreeable to him. Therefore, the more lavishly anyone has praised the excellence of human nature, the more he has been received with the applause of almost every age.

Yet every such commendation of human excellence, which teaches man to rest in himself, does nothing but delight him by its sweetness; and so it deceives him, and in the end destroys all who assent to it. For what comes of it, if, relying on such empty confidence, we deliberate, undertake, attempt, and contrive what we think needful, and then, in the very outset, fail and are found destitute both of sound judgment and true strength—yet still press on securely until we rush to ruin? And no other outcome can befall those who trust that they can do anything by their own power.

Whoever therefore listens to such teachers, who keep us only in the contemplation of our supposed good qualities, will make no progress in the knowledge of himself, but will be carried away into the worst kind of ignorance.

1.3.
Since the truth of God agrees with the common judgment of all men that the second part of wisdom consists in the knowledge of ourselves, there is nevertheless a great difference in the manner of that knowledge.

For by the judgment of the flesh, a man seems to know himself well enough when, trusting in his own understanding and uprightness, he takes courage, stirs himself up to the duties of virtue, declares war against vices, and strives with all zeal after that which is fair and honourable.

But he who examines and tries himself by the rule of God’s judgment finds nothing in himself to lift up his heart to good confidence. Rather, the more deeply he searches himself, the more he is cast down, until, stripped of all confidence, he finds nothing left in himself by which he may rightly order his life.

Yet God does not will that we should forget the nobility first bestowed upon our father Adam, which ought justly to awaken us to the pursuit of righteousness and goodness. For we cannot think either on our first origin or on the end for which we were created without being stirred to meditate on immortality and to desire the kingdom of God.

But so far is this remembrance from encouraging pride in us, that it should rather cast us down and bring us to humility. For what is that origin of ours? It is one from which we have fallen. And what is that end of our creation? It is one from which we have wholly turned aside. Thus, wearied with the misery of our present condition, we groan; and in groaning, we long after that lost dignity.

Now when we say that a man ought to see nothing in himself that may make him proud, we mean that there is nothing in him on which he ought confidently to rest. Therefore, if it so please, we may divide the knowledge which man ought to have of himself in this way: first, let him consider for what end he was created, and with what gifts, not to be lightly esteemed, he was endowed. By this thought he may be stirred up to the worship of God and to meditation on the life to come. Then let him weigh his own powers—or rather, his lack of power. When he has truly seen this, let him lie as one brought to nothing, in utter confusion.

The first consideration tends to this end: that he may know what his duty is. The second tends to this: that he may know how far he is able to perform it. Of both, as the order of instruction requires, we shall speak in due course.