Why then should not the Just One punish those things which, foreknowing, he does not compel to be done? For just as no one by his memory compels things that have passed to have been done, so God by his foreknowledge does not compel things to be done that are to come. And just as a man remembers certain things that he has done, yet did not do all the things he remembers, so God foreknows all things of which he himself is the Author, yet is not himself the Author of all things which he foreknows. But of those things of which he is not the evil Author, he is the just Avenger. The human soul, naturally connected to the divine principles on which it depends, when it says: This would be better made than that—if it speaks truly, it also sees what it says. In those supernal principles it sees.
Let it therefore believe that God made what by right understanding it has come to know ought to have been made by him, even if it does not see this among the things that have been made. For even if it could not see the heaven with its eyes, and yet by true reason gathered that some such thing ought to have been made, it ought to have believed that it was made, although it has not seen it with its eyes. For it would not discern by thought that it ought to have been made, except in those principles by which all things were made. But what is not there, no one can see by truthful thought any more than it exists. What is so worthy of mercy as the wretched, and what so unworthy of mercy as the proud wretch?
From which it came to pass that that Word of God, through whom all things were made, and in whom all angelic blessedness rejoices, extended his clemency even to our misery, and the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us. For thus could man, not yet made equal to the angels, eat the bread of angels, if the very bread of angels deigned to be made equal to men. Nor did he so descend to us as to forsake them, but, whole to them and whole to us at once, feeding them inwardly through that which is God, admonishing us outwardly through that which we are, he makes fit through faith those whom he may feed equally through vision. There is no doubt that every vice is contrary to nature, even of that thing whose vice it is.
Wherefore, since in any thing whatsoever nothing is blamed except the vice, and it is a vice for this reason, that it is contrary to the nature of the universe, the vice of no thing is rightly blamed unless its nature is praised. For in a vice nothing displeases except what corrupts that which in the nature pleases. To every sinning soul there are two penalties: ignorance and difficulty. From ignorance error perverts; from difficulty torment afflicts. But to approve false things for true, so that one errs against one's will, and, with the assault of the carnal bond resisting, to be unable to abstain from forbidden works—this is not the nature of man as established, but the penalty of one condemned.
Just as the art of medicine, while it remains the same and is in no way itself changed, nevertheless changes its precepts for the sick, because our health is changeable, so divine providence, while it is itself altogether unchangeable, nevertheless variously comes to the aid of the changeable creature, and, according to the diversity of diseases, commands some things to some and forbids others—that it may lead back and establish those things which fail, that is, tend toward nothing, away from the vice in which death begins, and from death itself, to their own nature and essence. The first vice of the rational soul is the will to do those things which the supreme and inmost Truth forbids. Thus was man expelled from paradise into this world—that is, from things eternal to things temporal, from things abundant to things needy, from firmness to things infirm.
Not, therefore, from a substantial good to a substantial evil, because no substance is evil, but from an eternal good to a temporal good, from a spiritual good to a carnal good, from an intelligible good to a sensible good, from the highest good to the lowest good. There is therefore a certain good which, if the rational soul loves it, it sins, because it is ordered beneath the soul. Wherefore sin itself is the evil, not that substance which is loved in sinning. Since the law of all the arts is altogether unchangeable, while the human mind, to which it is granted to see such a law, can suffer the mutability of error, it appears plainly enough that above our mind is the law which is called truth.
Nor is there now any room for doubt that the unchangeable nature, which is above the rational soul, is God; and that there is the first life and the first essence, where there is the first wisdom. For this is that unchangeable truth, which is rightly called the law of all the arts, and the art of the almighty Artificer. And so, when the soul perceives that it does not judge the form and motion of bodies according to itself, it must at the same time acknowledge that its own nature is superior to that nature about which it judges, but that the nature according to which it judges, and about which it can in no way judge, is superior to itself. To learning we are of necessity led in two ways, by authority and by reason. In time authority comes first, but in reality reason is prior.
For one thing is preferred in the doing, another is esteemed of greater worth in the seeking. Therefore, since the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and through humility there is an ascent to lofty things, let human ignorance advance through faith, that faith may deserve to see what it believes. You bloom in riches, you boast of the nobility of your ancestors, and you exult over your homeland, the beauty of your body, and the honors bestowed upon you by men. Look back upon yourself, for you are mortal, and you are earth, and into the earth you shall go. Look around at those who before you shone with like splendors. Where are those whom the powers of the citizens courted? Where are the unconquerable orators? Where are those who arranged the assemblies and the festivals?
Where are the splendid riders of horses, the leaders of armies, the satraps, the tyrants? Is not everything dust? Is not everything ashes? Is not the memory of their lives held in a few bones? Look upon the tombs, and see who is the slave, who the master, who the poor man, who the rich. Distinguish, if you can, the prisoner from the king, the strong from the weak, the beautiful from the deformed. Therefore, mindful of your nature, never be exalted. And you will be mindful of it, if you look back upon yourself.