Chapter 3. That the Knowledge of God Is Naturally Planted in the Minds of Men

We hold it out of controversy, that there is in the mind of man, even by natural instinct, a certain feeling of the godhead. For to the end that no man should flee to the pretense of ignorance, God himself has planted in all men a certain understanding of his divine majesty: the remembrance of which, with pouring in now and then as it were new drops, he continually renews: that when all, not one excepted, do know that there is a God, and that he is their maker, they may all be condemned by their own testimony, for that they have not both worshipped him, and dedicated their life to his will. But truly if the not knowing of God be anywhere to be found, it is likely that there can nowhere else be any example of it more than among the grossest sorts of peoples and furthest from civil order of humanity. But (as the heathen man says) there is no nation so barbarous, no kind of people so savage, in whom rests not this persuasion that there is a God. And even they that in other parts of their life, seem very little to differ from brute beasts, yet do continually keep a certain seed of religion. So thoroughly has this common principle possessed all men's minds, and so fast it sticks within all men's bowels. Since then from the beginning of the world there has been no country, no city, indeed no house that could be without religion, in this is implied a certain secret confession that a feeling of the godhead is written in the hearts of all men. Indeed idolatry itself is a substantial proof of this persuasion. For we know how unwillingly man abases himself to honor other creatures above himself. Therefore when he had rather worship a block and a stone, than he would be thought to have no god: it appears that the imprinted persuasion of God is of most great force, which is so impossible to be erased out of the mind of man, that it is much more easy to have the affection of nature broken: as in deed it is broken, when man from his own natural swelling pride of his own will stoops down even to the basest creatures, to honor God.

Therefore it is most vain which some do say, that religion was devised by the subtlety and craft of a few, by this policy to keep the simple people in awe, whereas they themselves that procured others to worship God believed nothing less than that there was any God at all. I grant indeed that subtle men have invented many things in religion, whereby to bring the people to a reverence, and cast them in a fear, to make their minds the more pliable to obedience: but this they could never have brought to pass unless the minds of men had been already beforehand persuaded that there was a God, out of which persuasion as out of seed springs that ready inclination to religion. Neither is it likely that even they which subtly deceived the simple sort with color of religion, were themselves altogether without knowledge of God. For though in times past there have been some, and at this day there arise up many that deny that there is any God, yet whether they will or no they oftentimes feel that which they are desirous not to know. We read of none that ever did break forth into more presumptuous and unbridled despising of God, than Caius Caligula: yet none more miserably trembled when any token of God's wrath appeared. And so against his will he quaked for fear of him whom of willful purpose he endeavored to despise. And the same may a man commonly see to happen to such as he was. For the bolder despiser of God that any man is, the more is he troubled at the very noise of the falling of a leaf. And from where comes that, but from the revenge of God's majesty, which does so much the more vehemently strike their consciences as they more labor to fly away from it. They do indeed look about for all the starting holes that may be, to hide themselves from the presence of the Lord, but whether they will or no, they are still held fast tied. For however sometimes it seems to vanish away for a moment, yet it often returns again, and with new assault does run upon them: so that the rest which they have, if they have any at all, from torment of conscience, is much like to the sleep of drunkards or frenzied men, which even while they sleep do not quietly rest, because they are at every moment vexed with horrible and dreadful dreams. Therefore the very ungodly themselves serve for an example to prove that there always lives in all men's minds some knowledge of God.

It is beyond dispute that there is in the human mind, even by natural instinct, a certain sense of the divine. God Himself has planted in all people an awareness of His divine majesty, so that no one can take refuge in the excuse of ignorance. He continually refreshes this awareness, as though dropping in fresh reminders from time to time. Since all without exception know that there is a God and that He is their Maker, they will all be condemned by their own testimony for not having worshipped Him and dedicated their lives to His will. If the total absence of the knowledge of God is to be found anywhere, we would expect to find it among the most primitive peoples and those furthest from civilized order. Yet even the ancient writers observed that there is no nation so barbarous and no people so savage as to lack this persuasion that there is a God. Even those who in other aspects of their life seem barely above the level of brute animals still maintain a certain seed of religion. So thoroughly has this universal conviction taken hold of all human minds and lodged itself so deeply in every heart. Since from the beginning of the world there has been no country, no city, indeed no household that could exist entirely without religion, this implies a silent confession that the sense of the divine is written in the hearts of all people. Idolatry itself is solid evidence of this conviction. We know how unwilling man is to humble himself by honoring creatures below himself. Yet when a man would rather worship a block of wood or a stone than be thought to have no god at all, it is clear how powerful is the engraved persuasion of God — so impossible to erase from the human mind that it is far easier to break the instincts of nature than to root it out. Indeed those instincts are broken when a man, out of his own natural pride, stoops down to the lowest creatures to honor God in them.

Therefore it is completely false what some say — that religion was invented by the cleverness and craft of a few men as a policy to keep simple people in fear and submission, while those who promoted the worship of God themselves believed nothing of the sort. I grant that shrewd men have invented many things in religion to bring the people to a reverence and a fear that would make them more compliant and obedient. But they could never have succeeded in this if people's minds had not already been beforehand persuaded that there is a God — for from that persuasion, as from a seed, springs the ready inclination toward religion. It is also unlikely that even those who craftily deceived the simple with the appearance of religion were themselves entirely without knowledge of God. For though in earlier times there were some, and today many arise, who deny that there is any God, yet whether they want to or not they often feel what they wish not to know. We have read of no one who burst out into more presumptuous and unbridled contempt of God than Caius Caligula — yet no one trembled more miserably when any sign of God's wrath appeared. Against his will, he shook with fear before the very One he deliberately set out to despise. The same thing can commonly be seen in others like him. The bolder a man's contempt of God, the more he is troubled at the mere sound of a falling leaf. And where does that come from but from the vengeance of God's majesty, which strikes their consciences all the more violently the harder they labor to flee from it? They look for every hiding place to escape the presence of the Lord, but whether they want to or not, they remain tightly held. Even when the sense of God seems to disappear for a moment, it returns again with fresh force and assaults them anew — so that whatever rest they have from the torment of conscience is much like the sleep of drunkards or madmen, who even while they sleep do not rest quietly because they are at every moment troubled by horrible and frightening dreams. Therefore the ungodly themselves serve as examples to prove that some knowledge of God always lives in all human minds.