I have already evinced that the inward and universal master, at all
times, and in all places, speaks the same truths. We are not that
master: though it is true we often speak without, and higher than
him. But then we mistake, stutter, and do not so much as understand
ourselves. We are even afraid of being made sensible of our
mistakes, and we shut up our ears, lest we should be humbled by his
corrections. Certainly the man who is apprehensive of being
corrected and reproved by that uncorruptible reason, and ever goes
astray when he does not follow it, is not that perfect, universal,
and immutable reason, that corrects him, in spite of himself. In
all things we find, as it were, two principles within us. The one
gives, the other receives; the one fails, or is defective; the other
makes up; the one mistakes, the other rectifies; the one goes awry,
through his inclination, the other sets him right. It was the
mistaken and ill-understood experience of this that led the
Marcionites and Manicheans into error. Every man is conscious
within himself of a limited and inferior reason, that goes astray
and errs, as soon as it gets loose from an entire subordination, and
which mends its error no other way, but by returning under the yoke
of another superior, universal, and immutable reason. Thus
everything within us argues an inferior, limited, communicated, and
borrowed reason, that wants every moment to be rectified by another.
All men are rational by means of the same reason, that communicates
itself to them, according to various degrees. There is a certain
number of wise men; but the wisdom from which they draw theirs, as
from an inexhaustible source, and which makes them what they are, is
but ONE.