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by which men are armed against temptations. The fifth is integrity of life, which, emulating the prime of manhood, ensures that nothing is done or thought of in an unseemly or lustful manner. The sixth is prudence, which, like old age, destroys the softness of the flesh and illuminates the wisdom of the spirit. The seventh and final spiritual age is the fear of God; emulating decrepitude, it bows down the man once puffed up with pride and makes the mind prone to contemplations of death.

Now, several particular points concerning infants and children present themselves for consideration. First, in the procreation of an infant, several elements come together: the matter supplied by the mother, the seed of the man, the womb that receives the whole, the secundine—that is, the membrane enveloping this mass—and the natural heat that forms and brings everything to effect. Furthermore, the mother’s blood is necessary to nourish and grow the infant once conceived.

Similarly, for someone to become a child of God, born into grace through the power of penance, many things are necessary. First, the "womb"—that is, a suitable place, namely the faith of the Church—receives the "matter," which is the right will that obeys. The "seed of the man" is the Word of God and the teaching of the Gospel preacher, which prepares the person and finally makes them fit. The "operating heat" is the grace of the Holy Spirit, which accomplishes the whole; the "secundine" is charity, which joins all things together; and finally, the "nourishing blood" is the memory of Christ’s blood, which fosters and increases everything. Furthermore, in the generation of an infant, nature first produces the principal organs—namely the heart, the brain, and the liver—before setting about the formation of the other parts.

In moral doctrine, these principal parts are called the theological virtues. The heart, because of love, is the symbol of charity; the brain, being the source of the senses, signifies faith; and the liver, since it nourishes the entire body, suggests hope. Hence, faithful Christians, emulating nature, must first form and perfect these primary virtues before hastening to gradually acquire the others that flow from them.

Moreover, an infant is not perfected and formed in the mother's womb all at once, but gradually—except for Christ, whose body was formed, animated, and assumed by the Word in a single moment. In the same way, humans, imitating nature, ought to put on the virtues bit by bit so that they may eventually emerge as upright, perfect, and learned. The opposite, however, happened with Christ, who was filled from the start with the fullness of all knowledge and grace, as John explained in his first chapter: "The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and we saw his glory, as of the Only Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." Again, immediately after birth, infants are placed in a dark place so that the bright air does not damage their sight. Likewise, "infants"—namely those recently born into faith, penance, or religious life—should not be exposed to the bright air of worldly affairs, lest they be dazzled by the splendor of worldly prosperity; instead, they should be established in the shaded place of humility until they have attained a stronger vision of discernment.

Furthermore, the limbs of infants are so tender that they would easily become crooked if nurses did not bind them with swaddling clothes. So too are the "limbs" of infants—that is, the affections of the young—so flexible by nature that unless they are bound with the bandages of excellent discipline by a learned nurse or a perfected man, they would easily contract the curvature of wicked inclinations. Additionally, infants require longer sleep to digest their abundant nourishment; thus, nurses are accustomed to making them prone to sleep with sweet lullabies. In the same way, "infants"—men who feed on the rich food of worldly prosperity—need the long sleep of piety and contemplation. Therefore, their "nurses"—the preachers of the Gospel—strive to bring sleep upon them with the pleasant songs of doctrine and example.

When infants have grown up, they are called children. Since they are still weak, they are unfit for hard labor, prone to falling, and quick to anger.

Those who sin can be called such children, for like children, they are unskilled, unfit for the labor of contemplation and right action, prone to outbursts of anger, and quick to fall, as they slip daily from one crime into another. Likewise, children born of sickly parents tend to incur similar diseases as an inheritance. In the same way, subjects or disciples are like children; for if princes or teachers are "sickly"—that is, infected with various vices—the children, as subjects and disciples, are similarly tainted, harmed by their bad examples. It was not without reason, therefore, that Cato sang: