Book Five

Since, then, it is established that the complete attainment of all we desire is that which constitutes felicity, which is no goddess, but a gift of God, and that therefore men can worship no god save Him who is able to make them happy,—and were Felicity herself a goddess, she would with reason be the only object of worship,—since, I say, this is established, let us now go on to consider why God, who is able to give with all other things those good gifts which can be possessed by men who are not good, and consequently not happy, has seen fit to grant such extended and long-continued dominion to the Roman empire; for that this was not effected by that multitude of false gods which they worshipped, we have both already adduced, and shall, as occasion offers, yet adduce considerable proof.

We have established that happiness consists in fully attaining all we desire. Happiness is not a goddess, but a gift of God. Therefore, people can worship no god except him who can make them happy. If Happiness herself were a goddess, she would rightly be the only one worshipped. Since this is established, let us now consider why God granted the Roman Empire such vast and long-lasting dominion. He can give all things, including good things that can be possessed by people who are neither good nor happy. We have already offered considerable proof that the many false gods the Romans worshipped did not bring about their dominion. We will offer more proof as the occasion arises.

1. That the cause of the Roman empire, and of all kingdoms, is neither fortuitous nor consists in the position of the stars.¹⁸⁴

1. The Roman Empire and all kingdoms exist neither by chance nor because of the positions of the stars.¹⁸⁴

The cause, then, of the greatness of the Roman empire is neither fortuitous nor fatal, according to the judgment or opinion of those who call those things fortuitous which either have no causes, or such causes as do not proceed from some intelligible order, and those things fatal which happen independently of the will of God and man, by the necessity of a certain order. In a word, human kingdoms are established by divine providence. And if any one attributes their existence to fate, because he calls the will or the power of God itself by the name of fate, let him keep his opinion, but correct his language. For why does he not say at first what he will say afterwards, when some one shall put the question to him, What he means by fate? For when men hear that word, according to the ordinary use of the language, they simply understand by it the virtue of that particular position of the stars which may exist at the time when any one is born or conceived, which some separate altogether from the will of God, whilst others affirm that this also is dependent on that will. But those who are of opinion that, apart from the will of God, the stars determine what we shall do, or what good things we shall possess, or what evils we shall suffer, must be refused a hearing by all, not only by those who hold the true religion, but by those who wish to be the worshippers of any gods whatsoever, even false gods. For what does this opinion really amount to but this, that no god whatever is to be worshipped or prayed to? Against these, however, our present disputation is not intended to be directed, but against those who, in defence of those whom they think to be gods, oppose the Christian religion. They, however, who make the position of the stars depend on the divine will, and in a manner decree what character each man shall have, and what good or evil shall happen to him, if they think that these same stars have that power conferred upon them by the supreme power of God, in order that they may determine these things according to their will, do a great injury to the celestial sphere, in whose most brilliant senate, and most splendid senate-house, as it were, they suppose that wicked deeds are decreed to be done,—such deeds as that if any terrestrial state should decree them, it would be condemned to overthrow by the decree of the whole human race. What judgment, then, is left to God concerning the deeds of men, who is Lord both of the stars and of men, when to these deeds a celestial necessity is attributed? Or, if they do not say that the stars, though they have indeed received a certain power from God, who is supreme, determine those things according to their own discretion, but simply that His commands are fulfilled by them instrumentally in the application and enforcing of such necessities, are we thus to think concerning God even what it seemed unworthy that we should think concerning the will of the stars? But, if the stars are said rather to signify these things than to effect them, so that that position of the stars is, as it were, a kind of speech predicting, not causing future things,—for this has been the opinion of men of no ordinary learning,—certainly the mathematicians are not wont so to speak, saying, for example, Mars in such or such a position signifies a homicide, but makes a homicide. But, nevertheless, though we grant that they do not speak as they ought, and that we ought to accept as the proper form of speech that employed by the philosophers in predicting those things which they think they discover in the position of the stars, how comes it that they have never been able to assign any cause why, in the life of twins, in their actions, in the events which befall them, in their professions, arts, honours, and other things pertaining to human life, also in their very death, there is often so great a difference, that, as far as these things are concerned, many entire strangers are more like them than they are like each other, though separated at birth by the smallest interval of time, but at conception generated by the same act of copulation, and at the same moment?

The greatness of the Roman Empire, then, was caused neither by chance nor by fate. I am using these words as some people understand them. They call events chance when they have no causes, or when their causes follow no intelligible order. They call events fate when they occur by the necessity of a certain order, independently of God’s will and human will. In short, divine providence establishes human kingdoms. If anyone attributes their existence to fate because he calls God’s will or power itself fate, let him keep his opinion. But he should correct his language. Why not say at once what he will say later, when someone asks what he means by fate? In ordinary usage, people understand the word to mean the influence of the stars’ particular positions at someone’s birth or conception. Some consider this influence entirely separate from God’s will. Others say that it too depends on his will. Some believe that the stars determine what we do, what good things we receive, and what evils we suffer, apart from God’s will. Everyone must refuse to listen to them. This applies not only to followers of the true religion, but also to anyone who wishes to worship any gods, even false ones. For what does this opinion really mean, except that no god should be worshipped or prayed to? But our present argument is not directed against these people. It is directed against those who oppose the Christian religion in defense of those they believe to be gods. Others hold that the positions of the stars depend on God’s will. They also hold that the stars somehow determine each person’s character and what good or evil will happen to them. Some of these people think that God’s supreme power gives the stars authority to determine these things according to their own will. They do a great injustice to the heavens. They imagine that wicked deeds are decreed, as it were, by a brilliant heavenly senate in a splendid senate house. If any earthly state decreed such deeds, the whole human race would condemn it to destruction. What judgment remains for God, the Lord of both stars and human beings, to pass on human deeds, if those deeds are attributed to heavenly necessity? Others do not say that the stars, though given power by the supreme God, determine these things at their own discretion. They say instead that the stars merely carry out his commands as instruments, applying and enforcing such necessities. But should we then think of God what we considered unworthy to think of the stars’ will? Still others say that the stars signify these things rather than cause them. On this view, the position of the stars is a kind of language that predicts future events without causing them. Some people of extraordinary learning have held this opinion. Astrologers, however, do not usually speak this way. They do not say, for example, that Mars in a particular position signifies a murderer. They say it makes a murderer. But let us grant that they speak improperly. Let us also accept the language philosophers use when predicting what they think they discover in the positions of the stars. Why, then, have they never been able to explain the great differences often found between twins? These differences appear in their lives and actions, in the events that happen to them, and in their professions and skills. They appear in their honors and other matters of human life, and even in their deaths. In these respects, many complete strangers are more like each twin than the twins are like each other. Yet twins are born only a very short time apart. They are also conceived in the same act of intercourse and at the same moment.

2. On the difference in the health of twins.

2. On differences in the health of twins.

Cicero says that the famous physician Hippocrates has left in writing that he had suspected that a certain pair of brothers were twins, from the fact that they both took ill at once, and their disease advanced to its crisis and subsided in the same time in each of them.¹⁸⁵ Posidonius the Stoic, who was much given to astrology, used to explain the fact by supposing that they had been born and conceived under the same constellation. In this question the conjecture of the physician is by far more worthy to be accepted, and approaches much nearer to credibility, since, according as the parents were affected in body at the time of copulation, so might the first elements of the fœtuses have been affected, so that all that was necessary for their growth and development up till birth having been supplied from the body of the same mother, they might be born with like constitutions. Thereafter, nourished in the same house, on the same kinds of food, where they would have also the same kinds of air, the same locality, the same quality of water,—which, according to the testimony of medical science, have a very great influence, good or bad, on the condition of bodily health,—and where they would also be accustomed to the same kinds of exercise, they would have bodily constitutions so similar that they would be similarly affected with sickness at the same time and by the same causes. But, to wish to adduce that particular position of the stars which existed at the time when they were born or conceived as the cause of their being simultaneously affected with sickness, manifests the greatest arrogance, when so many beings of most diverse kinds, in the most diverse conditions, and subject to the most diverse events, may have been conceived and born at the same time, and in the same district, lying under the same sky. But we know that twins do not only act differently, and travel to very different places, but that they also suffer from different kinds of sickness; for which Hippocrates would give what is in my opinion the simplest reason, namely, that, through diversity of food and exercise, which arises not from the constitution of the body, but from the inclination of the mind, they may have come to be different from each other in respect of health. Moreover, Posidonius, or any other asserter of the fatal influence of the stars, will have enough to do to find anything to say to this, if he be unwilling to impose upon the minds of the uninstructed in things of which they are ignorant. But, as to what they attempt to make out from that very small interval of time elapsing between the births of twins, on account of that point in the heavens where the mark of the natal hour is placed, and which they call the "horoscope," it is either disproportionately small to the diversity which is found in the dispositions, actions, habits, and fortunes of twins, or it is disproportionately great when compared with the estate of twins, whether low or high, which is the same for both of them, the cause for whose greatest difference they place, in every case, in the hour on which one is born; and, for this reason, if the one is born so immediately after the other that there is no change in the horoscope, I demand an entire similarity in all that respects them both, which can never be found in the case of any twins. But if the slowness of the birth of the second give time for a change in the horoscope, I demand different parents, which twins can never have.

Cicero says that the famous physician Hippocrates left a written account of two brothers he suspected were twins. He suspected this because they fell ill at the same time. Their illnesses also reached a crisis and subsided at the same time.¹⁸⁵ Posidonius the Stoic, who was devoted to astrology, offered another explanation. He supposed that they had been conceived and born under the same constellation. The physician’s explanation is far more worthy of acceptance and much more believable. The parents’ physical condition at the time of intercourse could have affected the first stages of the fetuses’ development. The same mother’s body supplied everything needed for their growth and development until birth. So they could have been born with similar constitutions. Afterward, they were raised in the same house and ate the same kinds of food. They also shared the same air, surroundings, and quality of water. Medical science says that these have a very great influence, good or bad, on bodily health. They would also have been accustomed to the same kinds of exercise. Their constitutions would therefore have been so similar that the same causes would make them ill at the same time. But it is extremely arrogant to attribute their simultaneous illnesses to the stars’ position when they were born or conceived. Many beings of the most diverse kinds may have been conceived and born at the same time. They may have been in the same district, under the same sky. Yet their conditions and the events they experience may be completely different. We know that twins not only act differently and travel to very different places. They also suffer from different illnesses. Hippocrates would offer what I consider the simplest explanation. Differences in food and exercise may have led to differences in their health. These differences arise not from their bodily constitutions, but from their inclinations of mind. Posidonius, or anyone else who claims that the stars determine our fate, will have great difficulty answering this. That is, if he is unwilling to deceive uninstructed people about matters they do not understand. Astrologers also try to make something of the very short interval between the births of twins. They appeal to a point in the heavens marking the hour of birth, which they call the "horoscope." But any change in it is too small to explain the differences in twins’ dispositions, actions, habits, and fortunes. Or it is too great when compared with their social standing, whether low or high, which is the same for both. In every case, astrologers attribute their greatest differences to the hour of birth. If one twin is born so soon after the other that the horoscope does not change, I demand complete similarity in everything concerning them. That can never be found in any twins. But if the second birth is slow enough for the horoscope to change, I demand different parents. Twins can never have those.

3. Concerning the arguments which Nigidius the mathematician drew from the potter's wheel, in the question about the birth of twins.

3. On the arguments Nigidius the astrologer drew from the potter's wheel about the birth of twins.

It is to no purpose, therefore, that that famous fiction about the potter's wheel is brought forward, which tells of the answer which Nigidius is said to have given when he was perplexed with this question, and on account of which he was called Figulus.¹⁸⁶ For, having whirled round the potter's wheel with all his strength, he marked it with ink, striking it twice with the utmost rapidity, so that the strokes seemed to fall on the very same part of it. Then, when the rotation had ceased, the marks which he had made were found upon the rim of the wheel at no small distance apart. Thus, said he, considering the great rapidity with which the celestial sphere revolves, even though twins were born with as short an interval between their births as there was between the strokes which I gave this wheel, that brief interval of time is equivalent to a very great distance in the celestial sphere. Hence, said he, come whatever dissimilitudes may be remarked in the habits and fortunes of twins. This argument is more fragile than the vessels which are fashioned by the rotation of that wheel. For if there is so much significance in the heavens which cannot be comprehended by observation of the constellations, that, in the case of twins, an inheritance may fall to the one and not to the other, why, in the case of others who are not twins, do they dare, having examined their constellations, to declare such things as pertain to that secret which no one can comprehend, and to attribute them to the precise moment of the birth of each individual? Now, if such predictions in connection with the natal hours of others who are not twins are to be vindicated on the ground that they are founded on the observation of more extended spaces in the heavens, whilst those very small moments of time which separated the births of twins, and correspond to minute portions of celestial space, are to be connected with trifling things about which the mathematicians are not wont to be consulted,—for who would consult them as to when he is to sit, when to walk abroad, when and on what he is to dine?—how can we be justified in so speaking, when we can point out such manifold diversity both in the habits, doings, and destinies of twins?

It is useless, then, to bring up the famous story of the potter's wheel. According to this story, Nigidius gave an answer when this question puzzled him. It was because of this answer that he was called Figulus.¹⁸⁶ He spun a potter's wheel with all his strength. Then he struck it twice with ink, so quickly that the marks seemed to fall on the same spot. When the wheel stopped, the marks were found far apart on its rim. He said the celestial sphere revolves with great speed. Even if twins were born as close together as his two strokes, that brief interval would correspond to a great distance in the celestial sphere. This, he said, explains whatever differences appear in the habits and fortunes of twins. This argument is more fragile than the pots made on that wheel. Suppose the heavens hold so much significance that cannot be understood by observing the constellations. Suppose, for example, that one twin may receive an inheritance while the other does not. Then why do astrologers dare to examine the constellations of people who are not twins and make such predictions? These matters belong to a secret no one can understand. Yet astrologers attribute them to the exact moment of each person's birth. Someone might defend predictions based on the birth times of people who are not twins. They might say these predictions rely on observing larger stretches of the heavens. They might also say that the tiny intervals between twins' births correspond to tiny portions of celestial space. These intervals, they might claim, affect only trifling matters about which people do not usually consult astrologers. For who would ask astrologers when to sit, when to go out, or when and what to eat? But how can we say this when we can point to so many differences in the habits, actions, and destinies of twins?

4. Concerning the twins Esau and Jacob, who were very unlike each other both in their character and actions.

4. About the twins Esau and Jacob, who were very different in both character and actions.

In the time of the ancient fathers, to speak concerning illustrious persons, there were born two twin brothers, the one so immediately after the other, that the first took hold of the heel of the second. So great a difference existed in their lives and manners, so great a dissimilarity in their actions, so great a difference in their parents' love for them respectively, that the very contrast between them produced even a mutual hostile antipathy. Do we mean, when we say that they were so unlike each other, that when the one was walking the other was sitting, when the one was sleeping the other was waking,—which differences are such as are attributed to those minute portions of space which cannot be appreciated by those who note down the position of the stars which exists at the moment of one's birth, in order that the mathematicians may be consulted concerning it? One of these twins was for a long time a hired servant; the other never served. One of them was beloved by his mother; the other was not so. One of them lost that honour which was so much valued among their people; the other obtained it. And what shall we say of their wives, their children, and their possessions? How different they were in respect to all these! If, therefore, such things as these are connected with those minute intervals of time which elapse between the births of twins, and are not to be attributed to the constellations, wherefore are they predicted in the case of others from the examination of their constellations? And if, on the other hand, these things are said to be predicted, because they are connected, not with minute and inappreciable moments, but with intervals of time which can be observed and noted down, what purpose is that potter's wheel to serve in this matter, except it be to whirl round men who have hearts of clay, in order that they may be prevented from detecting the emptiness of the talk of the mathematicians?

In the time of the ancient fathers, two twin brothers were born to a prominent family. One followed the other so closely that the first took hold of the second’s heel. Their lives and characters were very different, as were their actions and their parents’ love for each of them. The contrast between them even produced mutual hostility and hatred. When we say they were so different, do we mean that one walked while the other sat? Or that one slept while the other was awake? Such differences are attributed to tiny intervals of time. These intervals cannot be detected by those who record the positions of the stars at the moment of birth. They record them so that astrologers, called mathematicians, can be consulted. One twin was a hired servant for a long time. The other never served. One was loved by his mother. The other was not. One lost the honor that was so highly valued among their people. The other gained it. And what can we say about their wives, children, and possessions? How different they were in all these respects! Suppose, then, that such things are connected with the tiny intervals between the births of twins, rather than with the constellations. Why are they predicted for other people by examining their constellations? On the other hand, suppose these predictions are said to depend on intervals that can be observed and recorded, rather than on tiny moments that cannot be detected. What purpose does that potter’s wheel serve? It can only whirl people with hearts of clay around, so they cannot see how empty the astrologers’ talk is.

5. In what manner the mathematicians are convicted of professing a vain science.

5. How astrologers are shown to practice a worthless science.

Do not those very persons whom the medical sagacity of Hippocrates led him to suspect to be twins, because their disease was observed by him to develope to its crisis and to subside again in the same time in each of them,—do not these, I say, serve as a sufficient refutation of those who wish to attribute to the influence of the stars that which was owing to a similarity of bodily constitution? For wherefore were they both sick of the same disease, and at the same time, and not the one after the other in the order of their birth? (for certainly they could not both be born at the same time.) Or, if the fact of their having been born at different times by no means necessarily implies that they must be sick at different times, why do they contend that the difference in the time of their births was the cause of their difference in other things? Why could they travel in foreign parts at different times, marry at different times, beget children at different times, and do many other things at different times, by reason of their having been born at different times, and yet could not, for the same reason, also be sick at different times? For if a difference in the moment of birth changed the horoscope, and occasioned dissimilarity in all other things, why has that simultaneousness which belonged to their conception remained in their attacks of sickness? Or, if the destinies of health are involved in the time of conception, but those of other things be said to be attached to the time of birth, they ought not to predict anything concerning health from examination of the constellations of birth, when the hour of conception is not also given, that its constellations may be inspected. But if they say that they predict attacks of sickness without examining the horoscope of conception, because these are indicated by the moments of birth, how could they inform either of these twins when he would be sick, from the horoscope of his birth, when the other also, who had not the same horoscope of birth, must of necessity fall sick at the same time? Again, I ask, if the distance of time between the births of twins is so great as to occasion a difference of their constellations on account of the difference of their horoscopes, and therefore of all the cardinal points to which so much influence is attributed, that even from such change there comes a difference of destiny, how is it possible that this should be so, since they cannot have been conceived at different times? Or, if two conceived at the same moment of time could have different destinies with respect to their births, why may not also two born at the same moment of time have different destinies for life and for death? For if the one moment in which both were conceived did not hinder that the one should be born before the other, why, if two are born at the same moment, should anything hinder them from dying at the same moment? If a simultaneous conception allows of twins being differently affected in the womb, why should not simultaneousness of birth allow of any two individuals having different fortunes in the world? and thus would all the fictions of this art, or rather delusion, be swept away. What strange circumstance is this, that two children conceived at the same time, nay, at the same moment, under the same position of the stars, have different fates which bring them to different hours of birth, whilst two children, born of two different mothers, at the same moment of time, under one and the same position of the stars, cannot have different fates which shall conduct them by necessity to diverse manners of life and of death? Are they at conception as yet without destinies, because they can only have them if they be born? What, therefore, do they mean when they say that, if the hour of the conception be found, many things can be predicted by these astrologers? from which also arose that story which is reiterated by some, that a certain sage chose an hour in which to lie with his wife, in order to secure his begetting an illustrious son. From this opinion also came that answer of Posidonius, the great astrologer and also philosopher, concerning those twins who were attacked with sickness at the same time, namely, "That this had happened to them because they were conceived at the same time, and born at the same time." For certainly he added "conception," lest it should be said to him that they could not both be born at the same time, knowing that at any rate they must both have been conceived at the same time; wishing thus to show that he did not attribute the fact of their being similarly and simultaneously affected with sickness to the similarity of their bodily constitutions as its proximate cause, but that he held that even in respect of the similarity of their health, they were bound together by a sidereal connection. If, therefore, the time of conception has so much to do with the similarity of destinies, these same destinies ought not to be changed by the circumstances of birth; or, if the destinies of twins be said to be changed because they are born at different times, why should we not rather understand that they had been already changed in order that they might be born at different times? Does not, then, the will of men living in the world change the destinies of birth, when the order of birth can change the destinies they had at conception?

Hippocrates, with his medical insight, suspected that two patients were twins. He had observed that their illness reached its crisis and subsided at the same time in both. Do they not sufficiently refute those who attribute to the stars what was due to similar bodily constitutions? Why did both suffer from the same disease at the same time? Why did they not fall sick one after the other, in the order of their births? They certainly could not both have been born at the same time. Yet being born at different times did not necessarily mean they had to be sick at different times. Why, then, do astrologers claim that the difference in their birth times caused their other differences? They say the twins could travel abroad, marry, have children, and do many other things at different times. They say this was because they were born at different times. Why, then, could they not also be sick at different times for the same reason? If a difference in the moment of birth changed their horoscopes and made everything else different, why did they fall sick at the same time, just as they were conceived at the same time? Or suppose that health depends on the time of conception, while other things depend on the time of birth. Then astrologers should not predict anything about health by examining the stars at birth. They should do so only when the hour of conception is also given, so they can examine its stars. But suppose they say they predict illness from the moment of birth, without examining the horoscope of conception. How could they tell either twin when he would be sick from his birth horoscope? The other twin, whose birth horoscope was different, would necessarily fall sick at the same time. Again, I ask about the interval between the births of twins. Suppose it is long enough to change their horoscopes and the positions of the stars. It would also change all the cardinal points to which astrologers attribute so much influence. They say that even such a change produces a difference in destiny. But how can this be, when the twins cannot have been conceived at different times? Or, if two people conceived at the same moment could have different destinies concerning their births, why could two people born at the same moment not have different destinies in life and death? The fact that both were conceived at the same moment did not prevent one from being born before the other. Why, then, if two are born at the same moment, should anything prevent them from dying at the same moment? If conception at the same time allows twins to experience different things in the womb, why should birth at the same time not allow any two people to have different fortunes in the world? This would sweep away all the inventions of this art, or rather this delusion. What a strange claim this is! Two children are conceived at the same time, indeed at the same moment, under the same position of the stars. Yet they have different fates that bring them to different hours of birth. Meanwhile, two children born to different mothers at the same moment, under the same position of the stars, supposedly cannot have different fates. Those fates would necessarily lead them to different ways of living and dying. Do they have no destinies at conception because they can receive them only at birth? If so, what do astrologers mean when they say they can predict many things if the hour of conception is known? This belief gave rise to a story some people repeat. A certain sage supposedly chose an hour to lie with his wife, so that he would father a famous son. The same belief also led to the answer given by Posidonius, the great astrologer and philosopher. Asked about the twins who fell sick at the same time, he said, "This happened because they were conceived at the same time and born at the same time." He certainly added "conception" so that no one could object that they could not both be born at the same time. He knew that they must at least have been conceived at the same time. He wanted to show that he did not regard their similar bodily constitutions as the immediate cause of their similar and simultaneous illnesses. Instead, he held that a connection between the stars bound them together, even in the similarity of their health. If the time of conception has so much influence on the similarity of destinies, the circumstances of birth should not change those destinies. Or, if the twins' destinies are said to change because they are born at different times, why should we not instead understand that their destinies had already changed, so that they would be born at different times? If the order of birth can change the destinies they had at conception, does not the will of people living in the world change the destinies they had at birth?

6. Concerning twins of different sexes.

6. About twins of different sexes.

But even in the very conception of twins, which certainly occurs at the same moment in the case of both, it often happens that the one is conceived a male, and the other a female. I know two of different sexes who are twins. Both of them are alive, and in the flower of their age; and though they resemble each other in body, as far as difference of sex will permit, still they are very different in the whole scope and purpose of their lives (consideration being had of those differences which necessarily exist between the lives of males and females),—the one holding the office of a count, and being almost constantly away from home with the army in foreign service, the other never leaving her country's soil, or her native district. Still more,—and this is more incredible, if the destinies of the stars are to be believed in, though it is not wonderful if we consider the wills of men, and the free gifts of God,—he is married; she is a sacred virgin: he has begotten a numerous offspring; she has never even married. But is not the virtue of the horoscope very great? I think I have said enough to show the absurdity of that. But, say those astrologers, whatever be the virtue of the horoscope in other respects, it is certainly of significance with respect to birth. But why not also with respect to conception, which takes place undoubtedly with one act of copulation? And, indeed, so great is the force of nature, that after a woman has once conceived, she ceases to be liable to conception. Or were they, perhaps, changed at birth, either he into a male, or she into a female, because of the difference in their horoscopes? But, whilst it is not altogether absurd to say that certain sidereal influences have some power to cause differences in bodies alone,—as, for instance, we see that the seasons of the year come round by the approaching and receding of the sun, and that certain kinds of things are increased in size or diminished by the waxings and wanings of the moon, such as sea-urchins, oysters, and the wonderful tides of the ocean,—it does not follow that the wills of men are to be made subject to the position of the stars. The astrologers, however, when they wish to bind our actions also to the constellations, only set us on investigating whether, even in these bodies, the changes may not be attributable to some other than a sidereal cause. For what is there which more intimately concerns a body than its sex? And yet, under the same position of the stars, twins of different sexes may be conceived. Wherefore, what greater absurdity can be affirmed or believed than that the position of the stars, which was the same for both of them at the time of conception, could not cause that the one child should not have been of a different sex from her brother, with whom she had a common constellation, whilst the position of the stars which existed at the hour of their birth could cause that she should be separated from him by the great distance between marriage and holy virginity?

Even twins are conceived at the same moment, yet one is often male and the other female. I know twins of different sexes. Both are alive and in the prime of life. They resemble each other physically, as much as their different sexes allow. Yet their lives differ greatly in purpose and direction, even allowing for the necessary differences between male and female lives. The man holds the office of a count and is almost always abroad on military service. The woman never leaves her own country or native district. There is a still greater difference. This is more incredible if we believe that the stars determine our destinies. But it is not surprising if we consider human wills and God's free gifts. He is married, while she is a consecrated virgin. He has fathered many children, while she has never even married. But does the horoscope not have great power? I think I have said enough to show how absurd that idea is. The astrologers reply that, whatever power the horoscope has in other matters, it certainly matters at birth. But why should it not also matter at conception? Conception undoubtedly takes place through a single act of intercourse. Indeed, nature is so powerful that once a woman has conceived, she cannot conceive again. Or were the twins perhaps changed at birth by their different horoscopes, one into a male or the other into a female? It is not altogether absurd to say that the stars have some power to cause differences in bodies alone. For example, we see the seasons change as the sun approaches and recedes. We also see certain things grow larger or smaller as the moon waxes and wanes. These include sea urchins, oysters, and the remarkable tides of the ocean. But it does not follow that human wills are subject to the positions of the stars. When astrologers try to tie our actions to the constellations, they prompt us to investigate something else. We must ask whether even changes in bodies might have a cause other than the stars. What concerns a body more closely than its sex? Yet twins of different sexes can be conceived under the same positions of the stars. What could be more absurd than to claim or believe this? The stars had the same positions when both twins were conceived, yet could not prevent them from being different sexes. They shared the same constellation. Could the positions of the stars at their birth then cause the vast difference between his married life and her holy virginity?

7. Concerning the choosing of a day for marriage, or for planting, or sowing.

7. On choosing a day for marriage, planting, or sowing.

Now, will any one bring forward this, that in choosing certain particular days for particular actions, men bring about certain new destinies for their actions? That man, for instance, according to this doctrine, was not born to have an illustrious son, but rather a contemptible one, and therefore, being a man of learning, he chose an hour in which to lie with his wife. He made, therefore, a destiny which he did not have before, and from that destiny of his own making something began to be fatal which was not contained in the destiny of his natal hour. Oh, singular stupidity! A day is chosen on which to marry; and for this reason, I believe, that unless a day be chosen, the marriage may fall on an unlucky day, and turn out an unhappy one. What then becomes of what the stars have already decreed at the hour of birth? Can a man be said to change by an act of choice that which has already been determined for him, whilst that which he himself has determined in the choosing of a day cannot be changed by another power? Thus, if men alone, and not all things under heaven, are subject to the influence of the stars, why do they choose some days as suitable for planting vines or trees, or for sowing grain, other days as suitable for taming beasts on, or for putting the males to the females, that the cows and mares may be impregnated, and for such-like things? If it be said that certain chosen days have an influence on these things, because the constellations rule over all terrestrial bodies, animate and inanimate, according to differences in moments of time, let it be considered what innumerable multitudes of beings are born or arise, or take their origin at the very same instant of time, which come to ends so different, that they may persuade any little boy that these observations about days are ridiculous. For who is so mad as to dare affirm that all trees, all herbs, all beasts, serpents, birds, fishes, worms, have each separately their own moments of birth or commencement? Nevertheless, men are wont, in order to try the skill of the mathematicians, to bring before them the constellations of dumb animals, the constellations of whose birth they diligently observe at home with a view to this discovery; and they prefer those mathematicians to all others, who say from the inspection of the constellations that they indicate the birth of a beast and not of a man. They also dare tell what kind of beast it is, whether it is a wool-bearing beast, or a beast suited for carrying burthens, or one fit for the plough, or for watching a house; for the astrologers are also tried with respect to the fates of dogs, and their answers concerning these are followed by shouts of admiration on the part of those who consult them. They so deceive men as to make them think that during the birth of a man the births of all other beings are suspended, so that not even a fly comes to life at the same time that he is being born, under the same region of the heavens. And if this be admitted with respect to the fly, the reasoning cannot stop there, but must ascend from flies till it lead them up to camels and elephants. Nor are they willing to attend to this, that when a day has been chosen whereon to sow a field, so many grains fall into the ground simultaneously, germinate simultaneously, spring up, come to perfection, and ripen simultaneously; and yet, of all the ears which are coeval, and, so to speak, congerminal, some are destroyed by mildew, some are devoured by the birds, and some are pulled by men. How can they say that all these had their different constellations, which they see coming to so different ends? Will they confess that it is folly to choose days for such things, and to affirm that they do not come within the sphere of the celestial decree, whilst they subject men alone to the stars, on whom alone in the world God has bestowed free wills? All these things being considered, we have good reason to believe that, when the astrologers give very many wonderful answers, it is to be attributed to the occult inspiration of spirits not of the best kind, whose care it is to insinuate into the minds of men, and to confirm in them, those false and noxious opinions concerning the fatal influence of the stars, and not to their marking and inspecting of horoscopes, according to some kind of art which in reality has no existence.

Will anyone argue that people create new destinies for their actions by choosing particular days for them? Take a man who, according to this doctrine, was destined to have a contemptible son, not an illustrious one. Being learned, he chose an hour to sleep with his wife. He therefore made a destiny he did not have before. Because of this destiny of his own making, something became fated that was not included in the destiny of his birth. What extraordinary stupidity! A day is chosen for a marriage. I suppose this is because, otherwise, the marriage might take place on an unlucky day and be unhappy. What, then, becomes of what the stars already decreed at birth? Can a person change by choice what has already been determined for him? And yet, can no other power change what he has determined by choosing a day? If only people, and not everything under heaven, are subject to the stars, why do people choose particular days for other activities? They choose days for planting vines or trees, or sowing grain. They choose other days for taming animals or mating them, so that cows and mares may become pregnant. They do the same for similar tasks. Perhaps someone will say that chosen days affect these things because the constellations rule all earthly bodies, living and lifeless, according to the exact time. But consider the countless beings born or coming into existence at the very same instant. They meet such different ends that even a small child could see how ridiculous these observations about days are. Who is so mad as to claim that every tree, plant, animal, snake, bird, fish, and worm has its own separate moment of birth or beginning? Yet people test astrologers by presenting them with the constellations under which animals were born. They carefully observe these at home for that purpose. They favor astrologers who, by inspecting the constellations, say that they indicate the birth of an animal rather than a person. The astrologers even venture to say what kind of animal it is. They say whether it bears wool, carries loads, pulls a plough, or guards a house. Astrologers are also tested on the fates of dogs. Their answers draw shouts of admiration from those consulting them. They deceive people into thinking that, while a person is being born, all other births are suspended. They would have us believe that not even a fly comes to life at the same time, under the same part of the sky. And if this is admitted for a fly, the argument cannot stop there. It must go on from flies to camels and elephants. They also refuse to consider what happens when a day is chosen for sowing a field. So many grains fall into the ground, germinate, sprout, mature, and ripen at the same time. Yet of all the ears of grain that are the same age and, so to speak, germinated together, some are destroyed by mildew, some are eaten by birds, and some are picked by people. How can they say that all these had different constellations when they see them meeting such different ends? Will they admit that choosing days for such things is foolish? Will they say that these things fall outside the decrees of the heavens, while only people are subject to the stars? Yet people alone in the world have been given free will by God. Considering all this, we have good reason to believe that the astrologers’ many wonderful answers come from the hidden inspiration of spirits that are not of the best kind. These spirits seek to plant and strengthen false and harmful beliefs about the power of the stars to determine fate. The answers do not come from recording and inspecting horoscopes by some art that does not really exist.

8. Concerning those who call by the name of fate, not the position of the stars, but the connection of causes which depends on the will of God.

8. About those who call the connection of causes that depends on God’s will fate, rather than the position of the stars.

But, as to those who call by the name of fate, not the disposition of the stars as it may exist when any creature is conceived, or born, or commences its existence, but the whole connection and train of causes which makes everything become what it does become, there is no need that I should labour and strive with them in a merely verbal controversy, since they attribute the so-called order and connection of causes to the will and power of God most high, who is most rightly and most truly believed to know all things before they come to pass, and to leave nothing unordained; from whom are all powers, although the wills of all are not from Him. Now, that it is chiefly the will of God most high, whose power extends itself irresistibly through all things which they call fate, is proved by the following verses, of which, if I mistake not, Annæus Seneca is the author:—

Some people use the word fate not to mean the position of the stars when a creature is conceived, born, or begins to exist. Instead, they mean the whole chain of causes that makes everything become what it does. There is no need for me to struggle with them over words alone. They attribute this order and connection of causes to the will and power of God most high. We rightly and truly believe that he knows everything before it happens and leaves nothing unordained. All powers come from him, although the wills of all do not. What they call fate is chiefly the will of God most high, whose power extends irresistibly through all things. The following verses prove this. If I am not mistaken, Annaeus Seneca wrote them:

Most evidently, in this last verse, he calls that "fate" which he had before called "the will of the Father supreme," whom, he says, he is ready to obey that he may be led, being willing, not dragged, being unwilling, since "the Fates do lead the man that follows willing, but the man that is unwilling, him they drag."

Clearly, in this last verse, he calls “fate” what he had earlier called “the will of the supreme Father.” He says he is ready to obey him, so that he may be led willingly rather than dragged unwillingly. For “the Fates lead the person who follows willingly, but drag the one who is unwilling.”

The following Homeric lines, which Cicero translates into Latin, also favour this opinion:—

The following lines from Homer, which Cicero translates into Latin, also support this view:

Not that Cicero wishes that a poetical sentiment should have any weight in a question like this; for when he says that the Stoics, when asserting the power of fate, were in the habit of using these verses from Homer, he is not treating concerning the opinion of that poet, but concerning that of those philosophers, since by these verses, which they quote in connection with the controversy which they hold about fate, is most distinctly manifested what it is which they reckon fate, since they call by the name of Jupiter him whom they reckon the supreme god, from whom, they say, hangs the whole chain of fates.

Cicero does not mean that a poet’s words should carry any weight in a question like this. He says that the Stoics used these verses from Homer when asserting the power of fate. But he is discussing the philosophers’ view, not the poet’s. The verses they quote in their debate about fate make very clear what they understand fate to be. They call the one they regard as the supreme god Jupiter. They say that the whole chain of fates depends on him.

9. Concerning the foreknowledge of God and the free will of man, in opposition to the definition of Cicero.

9. On God’s foreknowledge and human free will, against Cicero’s definition.

The manner in which Cicero addresses himself to the task of refuting the Stoics, shows that he did not think he could effect anything against them in argument unless he had first demolished divination.¹⁸⁹ And this he attempts to accomplish by denying that there is any knowledge of future things, and maintains with all his might that there is no such knowledge either in God or man, and that there is no prediction of events. Thus he both denies the foreknowledge of God, and attempts by vain arguments, and by opposing to himself certain oracles very easy to be refuted, to overthrow all prophecy, even such as is clearer than the light (though even these oracles are not refuted by him).

The way Cicero sets out to refute the Stoics shows that he believed he first had to discredit divination.¹⁸⁹ Otherwise, he thought he could not argue effectively against them. He tries to do this by denying that anyone knows the future. He argues with all his might that neither God nor humans have such knowledge, and that no events are foretold. In this way, he denies God’s foreknowledge. He also tries to overturn all prophecy, even prophecy clearer than the light. He uses futile arguments and sets up certain oracles that are very easy to refute. Yet he does not even refute these.

But, in refuting these conjectures of the mathematicians, his argument is triumphant, because truly these are such as destroy and refute themselves. Nevertheless, they are far more tolerable who assert the fatal influence of the stars than they who deny the foreknowledge of future events. For, to confess that God exists, and at the same time to deny that He has foreknowledge of future things, is the most manifest folly. This Cicero himself saw, and therefore attempted to assert the doctrine embodied in the words of Scripture, "The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."¹⁹⁰ That, however, he did not do in his own person, for he saw how odious and offensive such an opinion would be; and, therefore in his book on the nature of the gods,¹⁹¹ he makes Cotta dispute concerning this against the Stoics, and preferred to give his own opinion in favour of Lucilius Balbus, to whom he assigned the defence of the Stoical position, rather than in favour of Cotta, who maintained that no divinity exists. However, in his book on divination, he in his own person most openly opposes the doctrine of the prescience of future things. But all this he seems to do in order that he may not grant the doctrine of fate, and by so doing destroy free will. For he thinks that, the knowledge of future things being once conceded, fate follows as so necessary a consequence that it cannot be denied.

But his argument against the astrologers’ conjectures is decisive, because their claims destroy and refute themselves. Still, those who claim that the stars determine our fate are far more tolerable than those who deny foreknowledge of future events. For it is obvious folly to acknowledge that God exists while denying that he knows the future. Cicero himself saw this. He therefore tried to assert the doctrine expressed in the words of Scripture, "The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."¹⁹⁰ He did not, however, say this in his own voice, since he saw how hateful and offensive such an opinion would be. Instead, in his book on the nature of the gods,¹⁹¹ he has Cotta argue this point against the Stoics. Cicero preferred to express his own opinion in support of Lucilius Balbus, whom he assigned to defend the Stoic position. He did not support Cotta, who maintained that no divine being exists. However, in his book on divination, Cicero speaks in his own voice and openly opposes the doctrine of foreknowledge of future events. He seems to do all this to avoid accepting the doctrine of fate and thereby destroying free will. For he thinks that once knowledge of the future is admitted, fate follows so necessarily that it cannot be denied.

But, let these perplexing debatings and disputations of the philosophers go on as they may, we, in order that we may confess the most high and true God Himself, do confess His will, supreme power, and prescience. Neither let us be afraid lest, after all, we do not do by will that which we do by will, because He, whose foreknowledge is infallible, foreknew that we would do it. It was this which Cicero was afraid of, and therefore opposed foreknowledge. The Stoics also maintained that all things do not come to pass by necessity, although they contended that all things happen according to destiny. What is it, then, that Cicero feared in the prescience of future things? Doubtless it was this,—that if all future things have been foreknown, they will happen in the order in which they have been foreknown; and if they come to pass in this order, there is a certain order of things foreknown by God; and if a certain order of things, then a certain order of causes, for nothing can happen which is not preceded by some efficient cause. But if there is a certain order of causes according to which everything happens which does happen, then by fate, says he, all things happen which do happen. But if this be so, then is there nothing in our own power, and there is no such thing as freedom of will; and if we grant that, says he, the whole economy of human life is subverted. In vain are laws enacted. In vain are reproaches, praises, chidings, exhortations had recourse to; and there is no justice whatever in the appointment of rewards for the good, and punishments for the wicked. And that consequences so disgraceful, and absurd, and pernicious to humanity may not follow, Cicero chooses to reject the foreknowledge of future things, and shuts up the religious mind to this alternative, to make choice between two things, either that something is in our own power, or that there is foreknowledge,—both of which cannot be true; but if the one is affirmed, the other is thereby denied. He therefore, like a truly great and wise man, and one who consulted very much and very skilfully for the good of humanity, of those two chose the freedom of the will, to confirm which he denied the foreknowledge of future things; and thus, wishing to make men free, he makes them sacrilegious. But the religious mind chooses both, confesses both, and maintains both by the faith of piety. But how so? says Cicero; for the knowledge of future things being granted, there follows a chain of consequences which ends in this, that there can be nothing depending on our own free wills. And further, if there is anything depending on our wills, we must go backwards by the same steps of reasoning till we arrive at the conclusion that there is no foreknowledge of future things. For we go backwards through all the steps in the following order:—If there is free will, all things do not happen according to fate; if all things do not happen according to fate, there is not a certain order of causes; and if there is not a certain order of causes, neither is there a certain order of things foreknown by God,—for things cannot come to pass except they are preceded by efficient causes,—but, if there is no fixed and certain order of causes foreknown by God, all things cannot be said to happen according as He foreknew that they would happen. And further, if it is not true that all things happen just as they have been foreknown by Him, there is not, says he, in God any foreknowledge of future events.

Let the philosophers continue their perplexing debates and disputes as they will. For our part, we acknowledge the most high and true God himself. We acknowledge his will, supreme power, and foreknowledge. We need not fear that our voluntary actions are not truly voluntary. God, whose foreknowledge is infallible, knew beforehand that we would do them. Cicero feared this, and so he rejected foreknowledge. The Stoics, too, maintained that not everything happens by necessity, although they argued that everything happens according to fate. What, then, did Cicero fear about foreknowledge of future events? Surely it was this. If all future events have been foreknown, they will happen in the order in which they were foreknown. If they happen in this order, then there is a fixed order of events foreknown by God. If there is a fixed order of events, there must also be a fixed order of causes. For nothing can happen without a cause that brings it about. But if a fixed order of causes governs everything that happens, then everything happens by fate, Cicero says. If that is so, nothing is in our power, and there is no freedom of will. If we accept this, he says, the whole order of human life is overturned. Laws are made in vain. Blame, praise, rebuke, and encouragement are all pointless. There is no justice in rewarding the good or punishing the wicked. To prevent such disgraceful, absurd, and harmful consequences for humanity, Cicero chooses to reject foreknowledge of future events. He leaves the religious mind with a choice between two things. Either something is in our power, or there is foreknowledge. Both cannot be true. If one is affirmed, the other is denied. So Cicero, like a truly great and wise man who cared deeply and skillfully for humanity’s good, chose freedom of will. To defend it, he denied foreknowledge of future events. In trying to make people free, he makes them sacrilegious. But the religious mind chooses both. It acknowledges and upholds both through devout faith. But how can that be, Cicero asks? If knowledge of future events is granted, a chain of consequences follows. It ends with the conclusion that nothing can depend on our free wills. And if anything does depend on our wills, we must follow the same reasoning backward. We then reach the conclusion that there is no foreknowledge of future events. We go backward through the steps in this order. If there is free will, not everything happens according to fate. If not everything happens according to fate, there is no fixed order of causes. If there is no fixed order of causes, there is no fixed order of events foreknown by God. For events cannot happen unless causes that bring them about come before them. But if God has not foreknown a fixed and certain order of causes, not everything can happen as he foreknew it would. And if it is not true that everything happens just as he foreknew, then, Cicero says, God has no foreknowledge of future events.

Now, against the sacrilegious and impious darings of reason, we assert both that God knows all things before they come to pass, and that we do by our free will whatsoever we know and feel to be done by us only because we will it. But that all things come to pass by fate, we do not say; nay we affirm that nothing comes to pass by fate; for we demonstrate that the name of fate, as it is wont to be used by those who speak of fate, meaning thereby the position of the stars at the time of each one's conception or birth, is an unmeaning word, for astrology itself is a delusion. But an order of causes in which the highest efficiency is attributed to the will of God, we neither deny nor do we designate it by the name of fate, unless, perhaps, we may understand fate to mean that which is spoken, deriving it from fari, to speak; for we cannot deny that it is written in the sacred Scriptures, "God hath spoken once; these two things have I heard, that power belongeth unto God. Also unto Thee, O God, belongeth mercy: for Thou wilt render unto every man according to his works."¹⁹² Now the expression, "Once hath He spoken," is to be understood as meaning "immovably," that is, unchangeably hath He spoken, inasmuch as He knows unchangeably all things which shall be, and all things which He will do. We might, then, use the word fate in the sense it bears when derived from fari, to speak, had it not already come to be understood in another sense, into which I am unwilling that the hearts of men should unconsciously slide. But it does not follow that, though there is for God a certain order of all causes, there must therefore be nothing depending on the free exercise of our own wills, for our wills themselves are included in that order of causes which is certain to God, and is embraced by His foreknowledge, for human wills are also causes of human actions; and He who foreknew all the causes of things would certainly among those causes not have been ignorant of our wills. For even that very concession which Cicero himself makes is enough to refute him in this argument. For what does it help him to say that nothing takes place without a cause, but that every cause is not fatal, there being a fortuitous cause, a natural cause, and a voluntary cause? It is sufficient that he confesses that whatever happens must be preceded by a cause. For we say that those causes which are called fortuitous are not a mere name for the absence of causes, but are only latent, and we attribute them either to the will of the true God, or to that of spirits of some kind or other. And as to natural causes, we by no means separate them from the will of Him who is the author and framer of all nature. But now as to voluntary causes. They are referable either to God, or to angels, or to men, or to animals of whatever description, if indeed those instinctive movements of animals devoid of reason, by which, in accordance with their own nature, they seek or shun various things, are to be called wills. And when I speak of the wills of angels, I mean either the wills of good angels, whom we call the angels of God, or of the wicked angels, whom we call the angels of the devil, or demons. Also by the wills of men I mean the wills either of the good or of the wicked. And from this we conclude that there are no efficient causes of all things which come to pass unless voluntary causes, that is, such as belong to that nature which is the spirit of life. For the air or wind is called spirit, but, inasmuch as it is a body, it is not the spirit of life. The spirit of life, therefore, which quickens all things, and is the creator of every body, and of every created spirit, is God Himself, the uncreated spirit. In His supreme will resides the power which acts on the wills of all created spirits, helping the good, judging the evil, controlling all, granting power to some, not granting it to others. For, as He is the creator of all natures, so also is He the bestower of all powers, not of all wills; for wicked wills are not from Him, being contrary to nature, which is from Him. As to bodies, they are more subject to wills: some to our wills, by which I mean the wills of all living mortal creatures, but more to the wills of men than of beasts. But all of them are most of all subject to the will of God, to whom all wills also are subject, since they have no power except what He has bestowed upon them. The cause of things, therefore, which makes but is not made, is God; but all other causes both make and are made. Such are all created spirits, and especially the rational. Material causes, therefore, which may rather be said to be made than to make, are not to be reckoned among efficient causes, because they can only do what the wills of spirits do by them. How, then, does an order of causes which is certain to the foreknowledge of God necessitate that there should be nothing which is dependent on our wills, when our wills themselves have a very important place in the order of causes? Cicero, then, contends with those who call this order of causes fatal, or rather designate this order itself by the name of fate; to which we have an abhorrence, especially on account of the word, which men have become accustomed to understand as meaning what is not true. But, whereas he denies that the order of all causes is most certain, and perfectly clear to the prescience of God, we detest his opinion more than the Stoics do. For he either denies that God exists,—which, indeed, in an assumed personage, he has laboured to do, in his book De Natura Deorum,—or if he confesses that He exists, but denies that He is prescient of future things, what is that but just "the fool saying in his heart there is no God?" For one who is not prescient of all future things is not God. Wherefore our wills also have just so much power as God willed and foreknew that they should have; and therefore whatever power they have, they have it within most certain limits; and whatever they are to do, they are most assuredly to do, for He whose foreknowledge is infallible foreknew that they would have the power to do it, and would do it. Wherefore, if I should choose to apply the name of fate to anything at all, I should rather say that fate belongs to the weaker of two parties, will to the stronger, who has the other in his power, than that the freedom of our will is excluded by that order of causes, which, by an unusual application of the word peculiar to themselves, the Stoics call Fate.

Against the sacrilegious and irreverent boldness of reason, we affirm two things. God knows everything before it happens. And we act by our own free will whenever we know and feel that we act only because we choose to. But we do not say that everything happens by fate. Rather, we affirm that nothing happens by fate. Those who speak of fate usually mean the position of the stars when a person is conceived or born. We show that fate, in this sense, is an empty word, because astrology itself is a delusion. But we do not deny that there is an order of causes in which God's will has the greatest power. Nor do we call this order fate, unless perhaps we understand fate as what has been spoken, deriving the word from fari, to speak. For we cannot deny what is written in the sacred Scriptures: "God hath spoken once; these two things have I heard, that power belongeth unto God. Also unto Thee, O God, belongeth mercy: for Thou wilt render unto every man according to his works."¹⁹² "Once hath He spoken" must be understood to mean that he has spoken immutably, that is, without change. For he knows without change everything that will happen and everything that he will do. We might therefore use fate in the sense derived from fari, to speak. But the word has already acquired another meaning, and I do not want people's hearts to slip unconsciously into that meaning. God certainly knows the order of all causes. But it does not follow that nothing depends on the free exercise of our wills. Our wills themselves are included in the order of causes that is certain to God and embraced by his foreknowledge. Human wills are also causes of human actions. And he who knew all causes beforehand could not have been unaware of our wills among them. Even Cicero's own concession is enough to refute his argument. What does he gain by saying that nothing happens without a cause, but that not every cause is fatal? He distinguishes chance causes, natural causes, and voluntary causes. But it is enough that he admits that a cause must precede whatever happens. We say that what are called chance causes are not simply an absence of causes. Rather, their causes are hidden, and we attribute them either to the will of the true God or to the wills of spirits of one kind or another. As for natural causes, we do not separate them from the will of him who made and formed all nature. Voluntary causes belong either to God, angels, human beings, or animals of every kind. This is so, at least, if we call the instinctive movements of animals without reason their wills. By these movements, animals seek or avoid various things according to their nature. By the wills of angels, I mean either the wills of good angels, whom we call God's angels, or those of wicked angels, whom we call the devil's angels, or demons. By human wills, I mean the wills of both good and wicked people. From this we conclude that the only efficient causes of everything that happens are voluntary causes. These belong to the nature that is the spirit of life. Air or wind is also called spirit, but it is a body, not the spirit of life. The spirit of life gives life to all things and creates every body and every created spirit. This spirit is God himself, the uncreated spirit. In his supreme will is the power that acts on the wills of all created spirits. He helps the good, judges the evil, and governs all. He grants power to some and withholds it from others. As he creates all natures, so he also grants all powers, but not all wills. Wicked wills do not come from him, because they are contrary to nature, which does come from him. Bodies are more subject to wills. Some are subject to our wills, by which I mean the wills of all living mortal creatures. But they are more subject to human wills than to those of animals. Above all, every body is subject to God's will. All wills are also subject to him, since they have no power except what he has given them. God, then, is the cause of things that acts but is not acted upon. All other causes both act and are acted upon. These include all created spirits, especially rational ones. Material causes, however, can be said to be acted upon rather than to act. They should not be counted among efficient causes, because they can do only what the wills of spirits do through them. How, then, can an order of causes certainly known in advance by God mean that nothing depends on our wills? Our wills themselves have a very important place in that order. Cicero argues against those who call this order of causes fatal, or rather call the order itself fate. We reject this term, especially because people have become accustomed to understanding it in a false sense. But Cicero denies that the order of all causes is absolutely certain and perfectly clear to God's foreknowledge. We detest this opinion more than we detest the Stoics' view. For either he denies that God exists, as he has indeed tried to do through a character in his book De Natura Deorum, or he admits that God exists but denies that he knows future things. What is the latter but "the fool saying in his heart there is no God?" Anyone who does not know all future things in advance is not God. Our wills therefore have exactly as much power as God willed and knew beforehand that they would have. Whatever power they have is held within absolutely certain limits. And they will most assuredly do whatever they are going to do. For he whose foreknowledge cannot be mistaken knew beforehand that they would have the power to do it and would do it. If, then, I chose to apply the name fate to anything, I would rather say this: fate belongs to the weaker of two parties, and will to the stronger, who holds the other in his power. I would not say that the freedom of our will is ruled out by the order of causes. The Stoics, in an unusual use of the word peculiar to themselves, call that order Fate.

10. Whether our wills are ruled by necessity.

10. Whether necessity rules our wills.

Wherefore, neither is that necessity to be feared, for dread of which the Stoics laboured to make such distinctions among the causes of things as should enable them to rescue certain things from the dominion of necessity, and to subject others to it. Among those things which they wished not to be subject to necessity they placed our wills, knowing that they would not be free if subjected to necessity. For if that is to be called our necessity which is not in our power, but even though we be unwilling effects what it can effect,—as, for instance, the necessity of death,—it is manifest that our wills by which we live uprightly or wickedly are not under such a necessity; for we do many things which, if we were not willing, we should certainly not do. This is primarily true of the act of willing itself,—for if we will, it is; if we will not, it is not,—for we should not will if we were unwilling. But if we define necessity to be that according to which we say that it is necessary that anything be of such or such a nature, or be done in such and such a manner, I know not why we should have any dread of that necessity taking away the freedom of our will. For we do not put the life of God or the foreknowledge of God under necessity if we should say that it is necessary that God should live for ever, and foreknow all things; as neither is His power diminished when we say that He cannot die or fall into error,—for this is in such a way impossible to Him, that if it were possible for Him, He would be of less power. But assuredly He is rightly called omnipotent, though He can neither die nor fall into error. For He is called omnipotent on account of His doing what He wills, not on account of His suffering what He wills not; for if that should befall Him, He would by no means be omnipotent. Wherefore, He cannot do some things for the very reason that He is omnipotent. So also, when we say that it is necessary that, when we will, we will by free choice, in so saying we both affirm what is true beyond doubt, and do not still subject our wills thereby to a necessity which destroys liberty. Our wills, therefore, exist as wills, and do themselves whatever we do by willing, and which would not be done if we were unwilling. But when any one suffers anything, being unwilling, by the will of another, even in that case will retains its essential validity,—we do not mean the will of the party who inflicts the suffering, for we resolve it into the power of God. For if a will should simply exist, but not be able to do what it wills, it would be overborne by a more powerful will. Nor would this be the case unless there had existed will, and that not the will of the other party, but the will of him who willed, but was not able to accomplish what he willed. Therefore, whatsoever a man suffers contrary to his own will, he ought not to attribute to the will of men, or of angels, or of any created spirit, but rather to His will who gives power to wills. It is not the case, therefore, that because God foreknew what would be in the power of our wills, there is for that reason nothing in the power of our wills. For he who foreknew this did not foreknow nothing. Moreover, if He who foreknew what would be in the power of our wills did not foreknow nothing, but something, assuredly, even though He did foreknow, there is something in the power of our wills. Therefore we are by no means compelled, either, retaining the prescience of God, to take away the freedom of the will, or, retaining the freedom of the will, to deny that He is prescient of future things, which is impious. But we embrace both. We faithfully and sincerely confess both. The former, that we may believe well; the latter, that we may live well. For he lives ill who does not believe well concerning God. Wherefore, be it far from us, in order to maintain our freedom, to deny the prescience of Him by whose help we are or shall be free. Consequently, it is not in vain that laws are enacted, and that reproaches, exhortations, praises, and vituperations are had recourse to; for these also He foreknew, and they are of great avail, even as great as He foreknew that they would be of. Prayers, also, are of avail to procure those things which He foreknew that He would grant to those who offered them; and with justice have rewards been appointed for good deeds, and punishments for sins. For a man does not therefore sin because God foreknew that he would sin. Nay, it cannot be doubted but that it is the man himself who sins when he does sin, because He, whose foreknowledge is infallible, foreknew not that fate, or fortune, or something else would sin, but that the man himself would sin, who, if he wills not, sins not. But if he shall not will to sin, even this did God foreknow.

Therefore, we need not fear the kind of necessity that troubled the Stoics. To escape it, they tried to distinguish different kinds of causes. They wanted to free some things from necessity while leaving others subject to it. They placed our wills among the things they wanted to free. They knew that our wills would not be free if they were subject to necessity. By necessity imposed on us, we may mean something beyond our control. It brings about what it can, even against our wishes. Death is one example. Clearly, our wills, by which we live rightly or wickedly, are not subject to this kind of necessity. We do many things that we certainly would not do if we were unwilling. This is true above all of the act of willing itself. If we will, it exists. If we do not will, it does not exist. We could not will if we were unwilling. But we may define necessity differently. We may use it to say that something must have a certain nature or happen in a certain way. I see no reason to fear that this kind of necessity takes away our freedom of will. We do not place God’s life or foreknowledge under necessity by saying that he must live forever and foreknow all things. Nor is his power diminished when we say that he cannot die or make a mistake. These things are impossible for him in such a way that, if they were possible, he would have less power. God is rightly called all-powerful, though he can neither die nor make a mistake. He is called all-powerful because he does what he wills, not because he suffers what he does not will. If that happened to him, he would not be all-powerful at all. Therefore, he cannot do some things precisely because he is all-powerful. Likewise, we say that when we will, we necessarily will by free choice. In saying this, we affirm an unquestionable truth. We do not thereby subject our wills to a necessity that destroys freedom. Our wills, then, exist as wills. They themselves do whatever we do by willing, things that would not be done if we were unwilling. Sometimes a person suffers something unwillingly because of another’s will. Even then, will retains its essential reality. I do not mean the will of the person who causes the suffering, since we trace its power to God. Suppose a will exists but cannot do what it wills. In that case, a more powerful will has overcome it. But this could not happen unless the will existed. I mean not the will of the other person, but the will of the one who could not accomplish what he willed. Therefore, whatever a person suffers against his will, he should not attribute it to the will of human beings, angels, or any created spirit. Rather, he should attribute it to the will of him who gives power to wills. God foreknew what would be in the power of our wills. This does not mean that nothing is in their power. For he who foreknew this did not foreknow nothing. He foreknew something, namely, what would be in the power of our wills. Therefore, even though he foreknew it, something is certainly in the power of our wills. We are not forced to choose between God’s foreknowledge and freedom of will. We need not deny freedom to preserve his foreknowledge. Nor need we deny his foreknowledge of future things to preserve our freedom. That would be impious. We embrace both. We faithfully and sincerely confess both. We confess his foreknowledge so that we may believe rightly, and our freedom so that we may live rightly. For a person who does not believe rightly about God lives wrongly. So let us never deny the foreknowledge of the one whose help makes us free, now or in the future, in order to maintain our freedom. Laws, therefore, are not enacted in vain. Nor is it useless to correct, encourage, praise, or condemn. God foreknew these things too. They are very effective, just as effective as he foreknew they would be. Prayers also help obtain what he foreknew he would grant to those who prayed. Rewards for good deeds and punishments for sins have been justly appointed. A person does not sin because God foreknew that he would sin. Indeed, there can be no doubt that the person himself sins when he does sin. For God, whose foreknowledge is infallible, did not foreknow that fate, fortune, or something else would sin. He foreknew that the person himself would sin. If that person does not will to sin, he does not sin. And if he does not will to sin, God foreknew that too.

11. Concerning the universal providence of God in the laws of which all things are comprehended.

11. On God's universal providence, whose laws encompass all things.

Therefore God supreme and true, with His Word and Holy Spirit (which three are one), one God omnipotent, creator and maker of every soul and of every body; by whose gift all are happy who are happy through verity and not through vanity; who made man a rational animal consisting of soul and body, who, when he sinned, neither permitted him to go unpunished, nor left him without mercy; who has given to the good and to the evil, being in common with stones, vegetable life in common with trees, sensuous life in common with brutes, intellectual life in common with angels alone; from whom is every mode, every species, every order; from whom are measure, number, weight; from whom is everything which has an existence in nature, of whatever kind it be, and of whatever value; from whom are the seeds of forms and the forms of seeds, and the motion of seeds and of forms; who gave also to flesh its origin, beauty, health, reproductive fecundity, disposition of members, and the salutary concord of its parts; who also to the irrational soul has given memory, sense, appetite, but to the rational soul, in addition to these, has given intelligence and will; who has not left, not to speak of heaven and earth, angels and men, but not even the entrails of the smallest and most contemptible animal, or the feather of a bird, or the little flower of a plant, or the leaf of a tree, without an harmony, and, as it were, a mutual peace among all its parts;—that God can never be believed to have left the kingdoms of men, their dominations and servitudes, outside of the laws of His providence.

The supreme and true God is one with his Word and Holy Spirit. These three are one. He is the one almighty God, the creator and maker of every soul and every body. By his gift, all who are happy through truth rather than vanity are happy. He made human beings rational creatures, composed of soul and body. When they sinned, he neither let them go unpunished nor left them without mercy. To both good and evil people, he has given existence, which they share with stones. He has given them life, which they share with plants. He has given them sensation, which they share with animals. He has given them intellectual life, which they share only with angels. Every manner of being, every kind, and every order comes from him. Measure, number, and weight come from him. Everything that exists in nature comes from him, whatever its kind or value. From him come the seeds of forms, the forms of seeds, and the movements of both seeds and forms. He gave the body its origin, beauty, health, and power to reproduce. He gave it the arrangement of its limbs and the healthy harmony of its parts. To the irrational soul, he gave memory, sensation, and appetite. To the rational soul, he gave intelligence and will as well. He has not left heaven and earth, angels and human beings, without harmony. He has not left even the organs of the smallest and most despised animal without it. The same is true of a bird’s feather, a small flower, or a tree’s leaf. In each, all the parts live together in what is, so to speak, mutual peace. We can never believe that this God has left human kingdoms, their rulers and subjects, outside the laws of his providence.

12. By what virtues the ancient Romans merited that the true God, although they did not worship Him, should enlarge their empire.

12. What virtues led the true God to expand the ancient Romans’ empire, even though they did not worship him.

Wherefore let us go on to consider what virtues of the Romans they were which the true God, in whose power are also the kingdoms of the earth, condescended to help in order to raise the empire, and also for what reason He did so. And, in order to discuss this question on clearer ground, we have written the former books, to show that the power of those gods, who, they thought, were to be worshipped with such trifling and silly rites, had nothing to do in this matter; and also what we have already accomplished of the present volume, to refute the doctrine of fate, lest any one who might have been already persuaded that the Roman empire was not extended and preserved by the worship of these gods, might still be attributing its extension and preservation to some kind of fate, rather than to the most powerful will of God most high. The ancient and primitive Romans, therefore, though their history shows us that, like all the other nations, with the sole exception of the Hebrews, they worshipped false gods, and sacrificed victims, not to God, but to demons, have nevertheless this commendation bestowed on them by their historian, that they were "greedy of praise, prodigal of wealth, desirous of great glory, and content with a moderate fortune."¹⁹³ Glory they most ardently loved: for it they wished to live, for it they did not hesitate to die. Every other desire was repressed by the strength of their passion for that one thing. At length their country itself, because it seemed inglorious to serve, but glorious to rule and to command, they first earnestly desired to be free, and then to be mistress. Hence it was that, not enduring the domination of kings, they put the government into the hands of two chiefs, holding office for a year, who were called consuls, not kings or lords.¹⁹⁴ But royal pomp seemed inconsistent with the administration of a ruler (regentis), or the benevolence of one who consults (that is, for the public good) (consulentis), but rather with the haughtiness of a lord (dominantis). King Tarquin, therefore, having been banished, and the consular government having been instituted, it followed, as the same author already alluded to says in his praises of the Romans, that "the state grew with amazing rapidity after it had obtained liberty, so great a desire of glory had taken possession of it." That eagerness for praise and desire of glory, then, was that which accomplished those many wonderful things, laudable, doubtless, and glorious according to human judgment. The same Sallust praises the great men of his own time, Marcus Cato, and Caius Cæsar, saying that for a long time the republic had no one great in virtue, but that within his memory there had been these two men of eminent virtue, and very different pursuits. Now, among the praises which he pronounces on Cæsar he put this, that he wished for a great empire, an army, and a new war, that he might have a sphere where his genius and virtue might shine forth. Thus it was ever the prayer of men of heroic character that Bellona would excite miserable nations to war, and lash them into agitation with her bloody scourge, so that there might be occasion for the display of their valour. This, forsooth, is what that desire of praise and thirst for glory did. Wherefore, by the love of liberty in the first place, afterwards also by that of domination and through the desire of praise and glory, they achieved many great things; and their most eminent poet testifies to their having been prompted by all these motives:

Let us now consider which Roman virtues the true God chose to help in raising their empire. The kingdoms of the earth are also in his power. We must also consider why he did so. In the previous books, we prepared the ground for this discussion. We showed that the power of the gods had nothing to do with the empire’s rise. The Romans believed these gods should be worshipped with trivial and silly rites. In the earlier part of this book, we have also refuted the doctrine of fate. Someone might already be convinced that worship of these gods did not extend and preserve the Roman Empire. Yet that person might still attribute its extension and preservation to some kind of fate, rather than to the supremely powerful will of God most high. The earliest Romans worshipped false gods, as their history shows. Like all other nations, with the sole exception of the Hebrews, they offered sacrifices not to God but to demons. Nevertheless, their historian praises them as “greedy for praise, generous with wealth, eager for great glory, and content with moderate means.”¹⁹³ They loved glory most passionately. For its sake they wished to live, and for its sake they did not hesitate to die. Their passion for glory was so strong that it suppressed every other desire. They saw it as shameful for their country to serve, but glorious for it to rule and command. So they first desired earnestly that it be free, and then that it become the mistress of others. Unable to endure the rule of kings, they placed government in the hands of two leaders. These held office for one year and were called consuls, not kings or lords.¹⁹⁴ Royal pomp seemed inconsistent with the duty of a ruler (regentis). It also seemed inconsistent with the goodwill of one who consults for the public good (consulentis). It seemed more fitting to the arrogance of a lord (dominantis). After King Tarquin was banished, the government of consuls was established. As the same historian says in his praise of the Romans, “The state grew with amazing speed after gaining its freedom, so great was its desire for glory.” This eagerness for praise and desire for glory brought about many remarkable deeds. By human judgment, these deeds were certainly praiseworthy and glorious. The same historian, Sallust, praises two great men of his own time, Marcus Cato and Caius Caesar. He says that for a long time the republic had no one of great virtue. Yet within his own memory there had been these two men of outstanding virtue, who followed very different pursuits. Among his praises of Caesar, Sallust says that Caesar wished for a great empire, an army, and a new war. He wanted a field in which his genius and virtue could shine. Thus men of heroic character always prayed that Bellona would stir wretched nations to war. They wished her to drive them into turmoil with her bloody whip, so that these men might display their courage. This, indeed, is what their desire for praise and thirst for glory produced. Love of freedom first drove the Romans to achieve many great things. Later, love of domination and the desire for praise and glory also drove them. Their most distinguished poet testifies that they were moved by all these motives:

At that time it was their greatest ambition either to die bravely or to live free; but when liberty was obtained, so great a desire of glory took possession of them, that liberty alone was not enough unless domination also should be sought, their great ambition being that which the same poet puts into the mouth of Jupiter:

At that time, their greatest ambition was either to die bravely or to live free. But once they gained freedom, they were seized by such a desire for glory that freedom alone was not enough. They also sought to dominate others. Their great ambition was what the same poet puts into Jupiter’s mouth:

Which things, indeed, Virgil makes Jupiter predict as future, whilst, in reality, he was only himself passing in review in his own mind things which were already done, and which were beheld by him as present realities. But I have mentioned them with the intention of showing that, next to liberty, the Romans so highly esteemed domination, that it received a place among those things on which they bestowed the greatest praise. Hence also it is that that poet, preferring to the arts of other nations those arts which peculiarly belong to the Romans, namely, the arts of ruling and commanding, and of subjugating and vanquishing nations, says,

Virgil has Jupiter predict these things as future events. In reality, Virgil was reviewing events that had already happened and that he saw as present realities. I have mentioned them to show how highly the Romans valued domination, second only to liberty. They counted it among the things they praised most highly. For this reason, the poet also places the arts peculiar to the Romans above those of other nations. These are the arts of ruling and commanding, and of subjugating and defeating nations. He says,

These arts they exercised with the more skill the less they gave themselves up to pleasures, and to enervation of body and mind in coveting and amassing riches, and through these corrupting morals, by extorting them from the miserable citizens and lavishing them on base stage-players. Hence these men of base character, who abounded when Sallust wrote and Virgil sang these things, did not seek after honours and glory by these arts, but by treachery and deceit. Wherefore the same says, "But at first it was rather ambition than avarice that stirred the minds of men, which vice, however, is nearer to virtue. For glory, honour, and power are desired alike by the good man and by the ignoble; but the former," he says, "strives onward to them by the true way, whilst the other, knowing nothing of the good arts, seeks them by fraud and deceit."¹⁹⁸ And what is meant by seeking the attainment of glory, honour, and power by good arts, is to seek them by virtue, and not by deceitful intrigue; for the good and the ignoble man alike desire these things, but the good man strives to overtake them by the true way. The way is virtue, along which he presses as to the goal of possession—namely, to glory, honour, and power. Now that this was a sentiment engrained in the Roman mind, is indicated even by the temples of their gods; for they built in very close proximity the temples of Virtue and Honour, worshipping as gods the gifts of God. Hence we can understand what they who were good thought to be the end of virtue, and to what they ultimately referred it, namely, to honour; for, as to the bad, they had no virtue though they desired honour, and strove to possess it by fraud and deceit. Praise of a higher kind is bestowed upon Cato, for he says of him, "The less he sought glory, the more it followed him."¹⁹⁹ We say praise of a higher kind; for the glory with the desire of which the Romans burned is the judgment of men thinking well of men. And therefore virtue is better, which is content with no human judgment save that of one's own conscience. Whence the apostle says, "For this is our glory, the testimony of our conscience."²⁰⁰ And in another place he says, "But let every one prove his own work, and then he shall have glory in himself, and not in another."²⁰¹ That glory, honour, and power, therefore, which they desired for themselves, and to which the good sought to attain by good arts, should not be sought after by virtue, but virtue by them. For there is no true virtue except that which is directed towards that end in which is the highest and ultimate good of man. Wherefore even the honours which Cato sought he ought not to have sought, but the state ought to have conferred them on him unsolicited, on account of his virtues.

They practiced these skills more effectively when they devoted themselves less to pleasure. They also practiced them better when they did not weaken their bodies and minds by craving and hoarding riches. The pursuit of riches corrupted morals. They extorted wealth from their miserable fellow citizens and lavished it on vulgar stage actors. By the time Sallust wrote and Virgil sang of these things, such men of low character were common. They sought honor and glory not through these skills, but through treachery and deceit. So Sallust says, "At first, ambition rather than greed stirred men's minds. Yet ambition is a vice closer to virtue. Both the good man and the dishonorable man desire glory, honor, and power. But the good man pursues them by the true path. The other knows nothing of honorable skills and seeks them through fraud and deceit."¹⁹⁸ To seek glory, honor, and power through honorable skills means to seek them through virtue, not deceitful schemes. Both good and dishonorable people desire these things, but the good person pursues them by the true path. That path is virtue. Along it, he presses toward his goal of possessing glory, honor, and power. The temples of the Roman gods show that this belief was deeply rooted in Roman thought. The Romans built temples to Virtue and Honor very close together, worshipping God's gifts as gods. From this we can understand what good Romans considered the goal of virtue. They ultimately directed it toward honor. The bad, however, had no virtue, though they desired honor and tried to gain it through fraud and deceit. Cato receives higher praise. Sallust says of him, "The less he sought glory, the more it followed him."¹⁹⁹ We call this higher praise because the glory the Romans burned to possess was the favorable judgment of others. Virtue is therefore better, for it is content with no human judgment except the judgment of one's own conscience. Thus the apostle says, "For this is our glory, the testimony of our conscience."²⁰⁰ Elsewhere he says, "But let everyone examine his own work. Then he will have glory in himself and not in another."²⁰¹ The Romans desired glory, honor, and power, and good people sought them through honorable skills. But virtue should not be used to seek these things. Rather, these things should be used to seek virtue. For there is no true virtue unless it is directed toward the highest and ultimate good of humanity. Even the honors Cato sought, then, he should not have sought. Instead, the state should have given them to him, without his asking, because of his virtues.

But, of the two great Romans of that time, Cato was he whose virtue was by far the nearest to the true idea of virtue. Wherefore, let us refer to the opinion of Cato himself, to discover what was the judgment he had formed concerning the condition of the state both then and in former times. "I do not think," he says, "that it was by arms that our ancestors made the republic great from being small. Had that been the case, the republic of our day would have been by far more flourishing than that of their times, for the number of our allies and citizens is far greater; and, besides, we possess a far greater abundance of armour and of horses than they did. But it was other things than these that made them great, and we have none of them: industry at home, just government without, a mind free in deliberation, addicted neither to crime nor to lust. Instead of these, we have luxury and avarice, poverty in the state, opulence among citizens; we laud riches, we follow laziness; there is no difference made between the good and the bad; all the rewards of virtue are got possession of by intrigue. And no wonder, when every individual consults only for his own good, when ye are the slaves of pleasure at home, and, in public affairs, of money and favour, no wonder that an onslaught is made upon the unprotected republic."²⁰²

Of the two great Romans of that time, Cato’s virtue came by far the closest to true virtue. Let us turn to Cato himself to learn what he thought of the republic’s condition, both then and in earlier times. “I do not think our ancestors made the republic great from small beginnings through military strength. If they had, our republic today would be far more prosperous than theirs. We have far more allies and citizens, and much more armor and many more horses. But other things made them great, and we have none of them. They worked hard at home and governed justly abroad. They deliberated with minds free from crime and lust. Instead, we have luxury and greed, poverty in the state, and wealth among citizens. We praise riches and pursue laziness. We make no distinction between the good and the bad. Intrigue wins all the rewards of virtue. And no wonder, when everyone looks after only their own interests. At home, you are slaves to pleasure. In public affairs, you are slaves to money and favor. No wonder the defenseless republic comes under attack.”²⁰²

He who hears these words of Cato or of Sallust probably thinks that such praise bestowed on the ancient Romans was applicable to all of them, or, at least, to very many of them. It is not so; otherwise the things which Cato himself writes, and which I have quoted in the second book of this work, would not be true. In that passage he says, that even from the very beginning of the state wrongs were committed by the more powerful, which led to the separation of the people from the fathers, besides which there were other internal dissensions; and the only time at which there existed a just and moderate administration was after the banishment of the kings, and that no longer than whilst they had cause to be afraid of Tarquin, and were carrying on the grievous war which had been undertaken on his account against Etruria; but afterwards the fathers oppressed the people as slaves, flogged them as the kings had done, drove them from their land, and, to the exclusion of all others, held the government in their own hands alone. And to these discords, whilst the fathers were wishing to rule, and the people were unwilling to serve, the second Punic war put an end; for again great fear began to press upon their disquieted minds, holding them back from those distractions by another and greater anxiety, and bringing them back to civil concord. But the great things which were then achieved were accomplished through the administration of a few men, who were good in their own way. And by the wisdom and forethought of these few good men, which first enabled the republic to endure these evils and mitigated them, it waxed greater and greater. And this the same historian affirms, when he says that, reading and hearing of the many illustrious achievements of the Roman people in peace and in war, by land and by sea, he wished to understand what it was by which these great things were specially sustained. For he knew that very often the Romans had with a small company contended with great legions of the enemy; and he knew also that with small resources they had carried on wars with opulent kings. And he says that, after having given the matter much consideration, it seemed evident to him that the pre-eminent virtue of a few citizens had achieved the whole, and that that explained how poverty overcame wealth, and small numbers great multitudes. But, he adds, after that the state had been corrupted by luxury and indolence, again the republic, by its own greatness, was able to bear the vices of its magistrates and generals. Wherefore even the praises of Cato are only applicable to a few; for only a few were possessed of that virtue which leads men to pursue after glory, honour, and power by the true way,—that is, by virtue itself. This industry at home, of which Cato speaks, was the consequence of a desire to enrich the public treasury, even though the result should be poverty at home; and therefore, when he speaks of the evil arising out of the corruption of morals, he reverses the expression, and says, "Poverty in the state, riches at home."

Anyone who hears these words from Cato or Sallust probably thinks their praise applied to all ancient Romans, or at least to very many. But it did not. Otherwise, what Cato himself wrote, and what I quoted in the second book of this work, would not be true. There he says that, from the very beginning of the state, powerful men committed injustices. These led the common people to separate from the patricians, and other conflicts arose within the state. Government was just and moderate only after the kings were driven out. Even then, it lasted only while the Romans feared Tarquin and fought the bitter war against Etruria on his account. Afterward, the patricians oppressed the common people like slaves. They flogged them as the kings had done, drove them from their land, and kept control of the government entirely to themselves. The patricians wanted to rule, and the people refused to serve. The second Punic war put an end to their conflicts. Once again, great fear weighed on their troubled minds. A greater anxiety held them back from these divisions and brought them together again as citizens. But the great deeds accomplished then were achieved under the leadership of a few men, who were good in their own way. Their wisdom and foresight first helped the republic endure these troubles and made them less severe. Through these qualities, the republic grew greater and greater. The same historian confirms this. He says that he had read and heard of the Roman people's many glorious achievements in peace and war, on land and sea. He wanted to understand what had chiefly made these great deeds possible. He knew that the Romans had often fought vast enemy armies with only a small force. He also knew that they had fought wealthy kings with limited resources. After much thought, he concluded that the outstanding virtue of a few citizens had achieved it all. This explained how poverty overcame wealth, and small numbers overcame great multitudes. But he adds that, after luxury and idleness had corrupted the state, the republic's own greatness enabled it to endure the vices of its officials and generals. Even Cato's praise, then, applies only to a few. Only a few had the virtue that leads people to seek glory, honor, and power by the true path, which is virtue itself. The industry at home that Cato describes came from a desire to enrich the public treasury, even at the cost of poverty at home. So, when he describes the evil caused by moral corruption, he reverses the expression: "Poverty in the state, riches at home."

13. Concerning the love of praise, which, though it is a vice, is reckoned a virtue, because by it greater vice is restrained.

13. On the love of praise, which is a vice but is considered a virtue because it restrains greater vice.

Wherefore, when the kingdoms of the East had been illustrious for a long time, it pleased God that there should also arise a Western empire, which, though later in time, should be more illustrious in extent and greatness. And, in order that it might overcome the grievous evils which existed among other nations, He purposely granted it to such men as, for the sake of honour, and praise, and glory, consulted well for their country, in whose glory they sought their own, and whose safety they did not hesitate to prefer to their own, suppressing the desire of wealth and many other vices for this one vice, namely, the love of praise. For he has the soundest perception who recognises that even the love of praise is a vice; nor has this escaped the perception of the poet Horace, who says,

The kingdoms of the East had been renowned for a long time. Then God chose to raise up an empire in the West. Though it arose later, it would be even more renowned for its extent and greatness. God intended it to overcome the terrible evils that existed among other nations. So he deliberately entrusted it to men who served their country well for the sake of honor, praise, and glory. They sought their own glory in their country’s glory. They did not hesitate to put its safety before their own. For the sake of this one vice, the love of praise, they restrained their desire for wealth and many other vices. The soundest judgment recognizes that even the love of praise is a vice. The poet Horace also recognized this when he said,

And the same poet, in a lyric song, hath thus spoken with the desire of repressing the passion for domination:

The same poet also wrote these words in a song, hoping to curb the desire to dominate:

Nevertheless, they who restrain baser lusts, not by the power of the Holy Spirit obtained by the faith of piety, or by the love of intelligible beauty, but by desire of human praise, or, at all events, restrain them better by the love of such praise, are not indeed yet holy, but only less base. Even Tully was not able to conceal this fact; for, in the same books which he wrote, De Republica, when speaking concerning the education of a chief of the state, who ought, he says, to be nourished on glory, goes on to say that their ancestors did many wonderful and illustrious things through desire of glory. So far, therefore, from resisting this vice, they even thought that it ought to be excited and kindled up, supposing that that would be beneficial to the republic. But not even in his books on philosophy does Tully dissimulate this poisonous opinion, for he there avows it more clearly than day. For when he is speaking of those studies which are to be pursued with a view to the true good, and not with the vainglorious desire of human praise, he introduces the following universal and general statement:

Nevertheless, some people restrain their lower desires through a desire for human praise. They do not restrain them by the power of the Holy Spirit, received through devout faith, or by love of spiritual beauty. Others restrain them more effectively through a love of praise. Such people are not yet holy, but only less corrupt. Even Tully could not conceal this fact. In his books De Republica, he discusses the education of a leader of the state. He says that such a leader should be nourished on glory. He goes on to say that their ancestors did many remarkable and distinguished things through a desire for glory. So, far from resisting this vice, they thought it should be encouraged and stirred up. They believed this would benefit the republic. Even in his books on philosophy, Tully does not hide this poisonous opinion. There he states it more plainly than daylight. He speaks of studies that should be pursued for the sake of the true good, not from a vain desire for human praise. In doing so, he introduces this universal and general statement:

14. Concerning the eradication of the love of human praise, because all the glory of the righteous is in God.

14. On rooting out the love of human praise, because all the glory of the righteous is in God.

It is, therefore, doubtless far better to resist this desire than to yield to it, for the purer one is from this defilement, the liker is he to God; and, though this vice be not thoroughly eradicated from his heart,—for it does not cease to tempt even the minds of those who are making good progress in virtue,—at any rate, let the desire of glory be surpassed by the love of righteousness, so that, if there be seen anywhere "lying neglected things which are generally discredited," if they are good, if they are right, even the love of human praise may blush and yield to the love of truth. For so hostile is this vice to pious faith, if the love of glory be greater in the heart than the fear or love of God, that the Lord said, "How can ye believe, who look for glory from one another, and do not seek the glory which is from God alone?"²⁰⁶ Also, concerning some who had believed on Him, but were afraid to confess Him openly, the evangelist says, "They loved the praise of men more than the praise of God;"²⁰⁷ which did not the holy apostles, who, when they proclaimed the name of Christ in those places where it was not only discredited, and therefore neglected,—according as Cicero says, "Those things are always neglected which are generally discredited,"—but was even held in the utmost detestation, holding to what they had heard from the Good Master, who was also the physician of minds, "If any one shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father who is in heaven, and before the angels of God,"²⁰⁸ amidst maledictions and reproaches, and most grievous persecutions and cruel punishments, were not deterred from the preaching of human salvation by the noise of human indignation. And when, as they did and spake divine things, and lived divine lives, conquering, as it were, hard hearts, and introducing into them the peace of righteousness, great glory followed them in the church of Christ, they did not rest in that as in the end of their virtue, but, referring that glory itself to the glory of God, by whose grace they were what they were, they sought to kindle, also by that same flame, the minds of those for whose good they consulted, to the love of Him, by whom they could be made to be what they themselves were. For their Master had taught them not to seek to be good for the sake of human glory, saying, "Take heed that ye do not your righteousness before men to be seen of them, or otherwise ye shall not have a reward from your Father who is in heaven."²⁰⁹ But again, lest, understanding this wrongly, they should, through fear of pleasing men, be less useful through concealing their goodness, showing for what end they ought to make it known, He says, "Let your works shine before men, that they may see your good deeds, and glorify your Father who is in heaven."²¹⁰ Not, observe, "that ye may be seen by them, that is, in order that their eyes may be directed upon you,"—for of yourselves ye are nothing,—but "that they may glorify your Father who is in heaven," by fixing their regards on whom they may become such as ye are. These the martyrs followed, who surpassed the Scævolas, and the Curtiuses, and the Deciuses, both in true virtue, because in true piety, and also in the greatness of their number. But since those Romans were in an earthly city, and had before them, as the end of all the offices undertaken in its behalf, its safety, and a kingdom, not in heaven, but in earth,—not in the sphere of eternal life, but in the sphere of demise and succession, where the dead are succeeded by the dying,—what else but glory should they love, by which they wished even after death to live in the mouths of their admirers?

It is undoubtedly far better to resist the desire for glory than to give in to it. The more free a person is from this stain, the more like God he is. This vice may not be completely uprooted from his heart. It continues to tempt even those making good progress in virtue. Still, let love of righteousness overcome the desire for glory. Then, when things “lie neglected because they are generally discredited,” let love of human praise blush and yield to love of truth, if those things are good and right. This vice is so hostile to faithful devotion when love of glory outweighs fear or love of God that the Lord said, “How can you believe when you seek glory from one another and not the glory that comes from God alone?”²⁰⁶ The evangelist also speaks of some who believed in him but feared to confess him openly. He says, “They loved human praise more than the praise of God.”²⁰⁷ The holy apostles were not like them. They proclaimed the name of Christ where it was not merely discredited and therefore neglected. As Cicero says, “Things that are generally discredited are always neglected.” There, Christ’s name was even held in the utmost hatred. Yet the apostles held fast to what they had heard from the Good Master, who was also the healer of minds: “If anyone denies me before others, I will also deny him before my Father in heaven and before the angels of God.”²⁰⁸ Amid curses, insults, terrible persecutions, and cruel punishments, they continued to preach human salvation. The outcry of human anger did not stop them. They did and spoke divine things and lived divine lives. They conquered hard hearts, as it were, and brought the peace of righteousness into them. Great glory followed them in the church of Christ. But they did not treat that glory as the goal of their virtue. Instead, they directed it to the glory of God, by whose grace they were what they were. With that same flame, they sought to awaken love for him in those whose good they sought. For he could make those people what the apostles themselves were. Their Master had taught them not to seek goodness for the sake of human glory. He said, “Be careful not to practice your righteousness before others to be seen by them. Otherwise, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.”²⁰⁹ But he did not want them to misunderstand this and hide their goodness for fear of pleasing people. That would make them less useful. So he explained the purpose for which they should make it known: “Let your works shine before others, so that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”²¹⁰ Notice that he did not say, “so that they may see you,” meaning that their attention should be directed toward you. By yourselves, you are nothing. He said, “so that they may glorify your Father in heaven.” By turning their attention to him, they may become what you are. The martyrs followed the apostles. They surpassed the Scaevolas, the Curtiuses, and the Deciuses in true virtue, because they had true devotion to God. They also surpassed them in number. But those Romans belonged to an earthly city. The goal of everything they undertook for it was its safety and an earthly kingdom, not a heavenly one. Their goal lay not in eternal life, but in a realm of death and succession, where the dying succeed the dead. What else should they have loved but glory? Through it, they hoped to live on after death in the words of their admirers.

15. Concerning the temporal reward which God granted to the virtues of the Romans.

15. About the earthly reward God gave for the virtues of the Romans.

Now, therefore, with regard to those to whom God did not purpose to give eternal life with His holy angels in His own celestial city, to the society of which that true piety which does not render the service of religion, which the Greeks call λατρεία, to any save the true God conducts, if He had also withheld from them the terrestrial glory of that most excellent empire, a reward would not have been rendered to their good arts,—that is, their virtues,—by which they sought to attain so great glory. For as to those who seem to do some good that they may receive glory from men, the Lord also says, "Verily I say unto you, they have received their reward."²¹¹ So also these despised their own private affairs for the sake of the republic, and for its treasury resisted avarice, consulted for the good of their country with a spirit of freedom, addicted neither to what their laws pronounced to be crime nor to lust. By all these acts, as by the true way, they pressed forward to honours, power, and glory; they were honoured among almost all nations; they imposed the laws of their empire upon many nations; and at this day, both in literature and history, they are glorious among almost all nations. There is no reason why they should complain against the justice of the supreme and true God,—"they have received their reward."

Now consider those whom God did not intend to give eternal life with his holy angels in his heavenly city. True piety leads people into that community. It gives religious worship, which the Greeks call λατρεία, to the true God alone. If God had also withheld the earthly glory of that most excellent empire from them, their good practices would have gone unrewarded. These practices were the virtues by which they sought such great glory. The Lord speaks of those who seem to do good in order to receive glory from others. He says, "Verily I say unto you, they have received their reward."²¹¹ In the same way, these people put aside their private interests for the sake of the republic. They resisted greed for the sake of its treasury. They worked freely for the good of their country. They were not given to lust or to what their laws called crime. Through all these acts, they followed the true path toward honors, power, and glory. They were honored among almost all nations and imposed the laws of their empire on many nations. Even today, literature and history make them glorious among almost all nations. They have no reason to complain about the justice of the supreme and true God. "They have received their reward."

16. Concerning the reward of the holy citizens of the celestial city, to whom the example of the virtues of the Roman are useful.

16. On the reward of the holy citizens of the heavenly city, who benefit from the example of Roman virtues.

But the reward of the saints is far different, who even here endured reproaches for that city of God which is hateful to the lovers of this world. That city is eternal. There none are born, for none die. There is true and full felicity,—not a goddess, but a gift of God. Thence we receive the pledge of faith, whilst on our pilgrimage we sigh for its beauty. There rises not the sun on the good and the evil, but the Sun of Righteousness protects the good alone. There no great industry shall be expended to enrich the public treasury by suffering privations at home, for there is the common treasury of truth. And, therefore, it was not only for the sake of recompensing the citizens of Rome that her empire and glory had been so signally extended, but also that the citizens of that eternal city, during their pilgrimage here, might diligently and soberly contemplate these examples, and see what a love they owe to the supernal country on account of life eternal, if the terrestrial country was so much beloved by its citizens on account of human glory.

But the saints receive a very different reward. Even in this life, they endured insults for the city of God, which those who love this world hate. That city is eternal. No one is born there, because no one dies there. There is true and complete happiness, not a goddess, but a gift of God. From that city we receive the pledge of faith. During our pilgrimage, we long for its beauty. There the sun does not rise on both the good and the evil. Instead, the Sun of Righteousness protects the good alone. There no one will labor to enrich the public treasury while enduring hardship at home. For there, truth is the common treasury. Rome’s empire and glory were extended so greatly not only to reward its citizens. This also happened so that the citizens of the eternal city might carefully and soberly consider their example during their pilgrimage here. They should see how much love they owe their heavenly homeland because of eternal life. For Roman citizens loved their earthly homeland so much because of human glory.

17. To what profit the Romans carried on wars, and how much they contributed to the well-being of those whom they conquered.

17. What the Romans gained from their wars, and how much they helped the people they conquered.

For, as far as this life of mortals is concerned, which is spent and ended in a few days, what does it matter under whose government a dying man lives, if they who govern do not force him to impiety and iniquity? Did the Romans at all harm those nations, on whom, when subjugated, they imposed their laws, except in as far as that was accomplished with great slaughter in war? Now, had it been done with consent of the nations, it would have been done with greater success, but there would have been no glory of conquest, for neither did the Romans themselves live exempt from those laws which they imposed on others. Had this been done without Mars and Bellona, so that there should have been no place for victory, no one conquering where no one had fought, would not the condition of the Romans and of the other nations have been one and the same, especially if that had been done at once which afterwards was done most humanely and most acceptably, namely, the admission of all to the rights of Roman citizens who belonged to the Roman empire, and if that had been made the privilege of all which was formerly the privilege of a few, with this one condition, that the humbler class who had no lands of their own should live at the public expense—an alimentary impost, which would have been paid with a much better grace by them into the hands of good administrators of the republic, of which they were members, by their own hearty consent, than it would have been paid with had it to be extorted from them as conquered men? For I do not see what it makes for the safety, good morals, and certainly not for the dignity, of men, that some have conquered and others have been conquered, except that it yields them that most insane pomp of human glory, in which "they have received their reward," who burned with excessive desire of it, and carried on most eager wars. For do not their lands pay tribute? Have they any privilege of learning what the others are not privileged to learn? Are there not many senators in the other countries who do not even know Rome by sight? Take away outward show,²¹² and what are all men after all but men? But even though the perversity of the age should permit that all the better men should be more highly honoured than others, neither thus should human honour be held at a great price, for it is smoke which has no weight. But let us avail ourselves even in these things of the kindness of God. Let us consider how great things they despised, how great things they endured, what lusts they subdued for the sake of human glory, who merited that glory, as it were, in reward for such virtues; and let this be useful to us even in suppressing pride, so that, as that city in which it has been promised us to reign as far surpasses this one as heaven is distant from the earth, as eternal life surpasses temporal joy, solid glory empty praise, or the society of angels the society of mortals, or the glory of Him who made the sun and moon the light of the sun and moon, the citizens of so great a country may not seem to themselves to have done anything very great, if, in order to obtain it, they have done some good works or endured some evils, when those men for this terrestrial country already obtained, did such great things, suffered such great things. And especially are all these things to be considered, because the remission of sins which collects citizens to the celestial country has something in it to which a shadowy resemblance is found in that asylum of Romulus, whither escape from the punishment of all manner of crimes congregated that multitude with which the state was to be founded.

As far as this mortal life is concerned, it passes and ends in a few days. So what does it matter under whose government a dying person lives? It matters only if the rulers force him into impiety and wrongdoing. Did the Romans harm the nations they conquered by imposing their laws on them? They harmed them only insofar as they did this through great slaughter in war. If the nations had agreed to it, it would have been more successful. But there would have been no glory of conquest. The Romans themselves were not exempt from the laws they imposed on others. Suppose this had happened without Mars and Bellona, the gods of war. There would have been no victory, since no one conquers where no one has fought. Would not the Romans and the other nations have been in the same position? This would have been especially true if they had done at once what they later did so humanely and acceptably. They eventually granted Roman citizenship to all who belonged to the empire. What had once been the privilege of a few became the privilege of all. Suppose they had done this at once, with one condition. The poorer people who owned no land would live at public expense. The others would have paid the taxes for their support much more willingly into the hands of good administrators of the republic. They would have been members of that republic by their own wholehearted consent. They would have paid more willingly than if the taxes had to be forced from them as conquered people. I do not see how it makes people safer, more moral, or certainly more dignified that some have conquered and others been conquered. It gives them only the utterly insane display of human glory. Those who burned with excessive desire for it and fought the fiercest wars “have received their reward.” Do not their lands pay tribute? Can they learn anything that others are not allowed to learn? Are there not many senators in other countries who have never even seen Rome? Take away outward show,²¹² and what are all people, after all, but people? Even if the corruption of the age allowed all better people to be honored above others, we should not value human honor highly. It is smoke without weight. But let us make use of God’s kindness even in these matters. Consider how much those people gave up, how much they endured, and what desires they overcame for human glory. By such virtues, they earned that glory, as it were, as their reward. Let this help us overcome pride. We have been promised a city where we shall reign. It surpasses this earthly city as far as heaven surpasses earth. It surpasses it as eternal life surpasses passing joy, and lasting glory surpasses empty praise. It surpasses it as the company of angels surpasses the company of mortals. It surpasses it as the glory of him who made the sun and moon surpasses their light. We citizens of so great a country should not think we have done anything very great. We should not think so if we have done some good works or endured some evils to obtain it. For those people did and suffered such great things for an earthly country they had already obtained. We should consider all this especially because forgiveness of sins gathers citizens into the heavenly country. It has a faint resemblance to the refuge of Romulus. There, people escaped punishment for all kinds of crimes and gathered into the multitude that would found the state.

What great thing, therefore, is it for that eternal and celestial city to despise all the charms of this world, however pleasant, if for the sake of this terrestrial city Brutus could even put to death his son,—a sacrifice which the heavenly city compels no one to make? But certainly it is more difficult to put to death one's sons, than to do what is required to be done for the heavenly country, even to distribute to the poor those things which were looked upon as things to be amassed and laid up for one's children, or to let them go, if there arise any temptation which compels us to do so, for the sake of faith and righteousness. For it is not earthly riches which make us or our sons happy; for they must either be lost by us in our lifetime, or be possessed when we are dead, by whom we know not, or perhaps by whom we would not. But it is God who makes us happy, who is the true riches of minds. But of Brutus, even the poet who celebrates his praises testifies that it was the occasion of unhappiness to him that he slew his son, for he says,

Why, then, should it be remarkable for the eternal, heavenly city to reject all the pleasures of this world, however delightful? For the sake of the earthly city, Brutus could even put his son to death. The heavenly city requires no one to make such a sacrifice. Surely it is harder to put one’s sons to death than to do what the heavenly homeland requires. It asks us to give to the poor what we had hoped to save and leave to our children. Or, if a trial forces us to give it up, it asks us to do so for faith and righteousness. Earthly riches do not make us or our sons happy. We must either lose them during our lives or leave them to others when we die. We do not know who will possess them then. Perhaps they will pass to people we would not want to have them. It is God who makes us happy. He is the true wealth of our minds. As for Brutus, even the poet who praises him says that killing his son made him unhappy. For he says,

But in the following verse he consoles him in his unhappiness, saying,

But in the next verse, he comforts him in his unhappiness, saying,

There are those two things, namely, liberty and the desire of human praise, which compelled the Romans to admirable deeds. If, therefore, for the liberty of dying men, and for the desire of human praise which is sought after by mortals, sons could be put to death by a father, what great thing is it, if, for the true liberty which has made us free from the dominion of sin, and death, and the devil,—not through the desire of human praise, but through the earnest desire of freeing men, not from King Tarquin, but from demons and the prince of the demons,—we should, I do not say put to death our sons, but reckon among our sons Christ's poor ones? If, also, another Roman chief, surnamed Torquatus, slew his son, not because he fought against his country, but because, being challenged by an enemy, he through youthful impetuosity fought, though for his country, yet contrary to orders which he his father had given as general; and this he did, notwithstanding that his son was victorious, lest there should be more evil in the example of authority despised, than good in the glory of slaying an enemy;—if, I say, Torquatus acted thus, wherefore should they boast themselves, who, for the laws of a celestial country, despise all earthly good things, which are loved far less than sons? If Furius Camillus, who was condemned by those who envied him, notwithstanding that he had thrown off from the necks of his countrymen the yoke of their most bitter enemies, the Veientes, again delivered his ungrateful country from the Gauls, because he had no other in which he could have better opportunities for living a life of glory;—if Camillus did thus, why should he be extolled as having done some great thing, who, having, it may be, suffered in the church at the hands of carnal enemies most grievous and dishonouring injury, has not betaken himself to heretical enemies, or himself raised some heresy against her, but has rather defended her, as far as he was able, from the most pernicious perversity of heretics, since there is not another church, I say not in which one can live a life of glory, but in which eternal life can be obtained? If Mucius, in order that peace might be made with King Porsenna, who was pressing the Romans with a most grievous war, when he did not succeed in slaying Porsenna, but slew another by mistake for him, reached forth his right hand and laid it on a red-hot altar, saying that many such as he saw him to be had conspired for his destruction, so that Porsenna, terrified at his daring, and at the thought of a conspiracy of such as he, without any delay recalled all his warlike purposes, and made peace;—if, I say, Mucius did this, who shall speak of his meritorious claims to the kingdom of heaven, if for it he may have given to the flames not one hand, but even his whole body, and that not by his own spontaneous act, but because he was persecuted by another? If Curtius, spurring on his steed, threw himself all armed into a precipitous gulf, obeying the oracles of their gods, which had commanded that the Romans should throw into that gulf the best thing which they possessed, and they could only understand thereby that, since they excelled in men and arms, the gods had commanded that an armed man should be cast headlong into that destruction;—if he did this, shall we say that that man has done a great thing for the eternal city who may have died by a like death, not, however, precipitating himself spontaneously into a gulf, but having suffered this death at the hands of some enemy of his faith, more especially when he has received from his Lord, who is also King of his country, a more certain oracle, "Fear not them who kill the body, but cannot kill the soul?"²¹⁴ If the Decii dedicated themselves to death, consecrating themselves in a form of words, as it were, that falling, and pacifying by their blood the wrath of the gods, they might be the means of delivering the Roman army;—if they did this, let not the holy martyrs carry themselves proudly, as though they had done some meritorious thing for a share in that country where are eternal life and felicity, if even to the shedding of their blood, loving not only the brethren for whom it was shed, but, according as had been commanded them, even their enemies by whom it was being shed, they have vied with one another in faith of love and love of faith. If Marcus Pulvillus, when engaged in dedicating a temple to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, received with such indifference the false intelligence which was brought to him of the death of his son, with the intention of so agitating him that he should go away, and thus the glory of dedicating the temple should fall to his colleague;—if he received that intelligence with such indifference that he even ordered that his son should be cast out unburied, the love of glory having overcome in his heart the grief of bereavement, how shall any one affirm that he has done a great thing for the preaching of the gospel, by which the citizens of the heavenly city are delivered from divers errors, and gathered together from divers wanderings, to whom his Lord has said, when anxious about the burial of his father, "Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead?"²¹⁵ Regulus, in order not to break his oath, even with his most cruel enemies, returned to them from Rome itself, because (as he is said to have replied to the Romans when they wished to retain him) he could not have the dignity of an honourable citizen at Rome after having been a slave to the Africans, and the Carthaginians put him to death with the utmost tortures, because he had spoken against them in the senate. If Regulus acted thus, what tortures are not to be despised for the sake of good faith toward that country to whose beatitude faith itself leads? Or what will a man have rendered to the Lord for all He has bestowed upon him, if, for the faithfulness he owes to Him, he shall have suffered such things as Regulus suffered at the hands of his most ruthless enemies for the good faith which he owed to them? And how shall a Christian dare vaunt himself of his voluntary poverty, which he has chosen in order that during the pilgrimage of this life he may walk the more disencumbered on the way which leads to the country where the true riches are, even God Himself;—how, I say, shall he vaunt himself for this, when he hears or reads that Lucius Valerius, who died when he was holding the office of consul, was so poor that his funeral expenses were paid with money collected by the people?—or when he hears that Quintius Cincinnatus, who, possessing only four acres of land, and cultivating them with his own hands, was taken from the plough to be made dictator,—an office more honourable even than that of consul,—and that, after having won great glory by conquering the enemy, he preferred notwithstanding to continue in his poverty? Or how shall he boast of having done a great thing, who has not been prevailed upon by the offer of any reward of this world to renounce his connection with that heavenly and eternal country, when he hears that Fabricius could not be prevailed on to forsake the Roman city by the great gifts offered to him by Pyrrhus king of the Epirots, who promised him the fourth part of his kingdom, but preferred to abide there in his poverty as a private individual? For if, when their republic,—that is, the interest of the people, the interest of the country, the common interest,—was most prosperous and wealthy, they themselves were so poor in their own houses, that one of them, who had already been twice a consul, was expelled from that senate of poor men by the censor, because he was discovered to possess ten pounds weight of silver-plate,—since, I say, those very men by whose triumphs the public treasury was enriched were so poor, ought not all Christians, who make common property of their riches with a far nobler purpose, even that (according to what is written in the Acts of the Apostles) they may distribute to each one according to his need, and that no one may say that anything is his own, but that all things may be their common possession,²¹⁶—ought they not to understand that they should not vaunt themselves, because they do that to obtain the society of angels, when those men did well-nigh the same thing to preserve the glory of the Romans?

Two things drove the Romans to admirable deeds: liberty and the desire for human praise. A father could put his sons to death for the liberty of people destined to die, and for praise sought from other mortals. What great thing is it, then, if we count Christ’s poor among our children, rather than put our children to death? We do this for true liberty, which has freed us from the rule of sin, death, and the devil. We do it not for human praise, but from an earnest desire to free people, not from King Tarquin, but from demons and the prince of demons. Another Roman leader, known as Torquatus, killed his son. The son had not fought against his country. Rather, an enemy had challenged him, and in his youthful eagerness he had fought for his country. But he had disobeyed his father’s orders as general. Though his son had won, Torquatus killed him. He feared that the example of defying authority would do more harm than the glory of killing an enemy would do good. If Torquatus did this, why should those who scorn all earthly goods boast of themselves? They do so for the laws of a heavenly country, and those goods are loved far less than children. Furius Camillus freed his fellow citizens from the yoke of their bitter enemies, the Veientes. Yet those who envied him condemned him. Even so, he again rescued his ungrateful country, this time from the Gauls. He did so because no other country offered him better opportunities for a glorious life. If Camillus did this, why praise as a great achievement the conduct of someone who defends the church? Perhaps he has suffered terrible and dishonoring injuries in the church from enemies ruled by worldly desires. Yet he has not gone over to heretical enemies or started a heresy against the church. Instead, he has defended her as best he could against the deadly errors of heretics. For there is no other church where eternal life can be obtained, let alone a glorious life. King Porsenna was waging a terrible war against the Romans. To bring about peace, Mucius tried to kill him, but mistakenly killed another man instead. Mucius then held his right hand in the fire on a red-hot altar. He said that many men like him had joined in a plot to kill Porsenna. Terrified by his daring and by the thought of such a conspiracy, Porsenna immediately abandoned his war plans and made peace. If Mucius did this, who can claim to have earned the kingdom of heaven by suffering in its flames? Even if someone has given not one hand but his whole body to the flames, he has not done so voluntarily. He has suffered because someone else persecuted him. Curtius spurred his horse and, fully armed, plunged into a deep chasm. He was obeying the oracles of the Roman gods, which had commanded the Romans to throw their best possession into it. The Romans understood this to mean that an armed man must be thrown to his death. For they excelled in men and arms. If Curtius did this, has someone done a great thing for the eternal city by dying a similar death? He has not voluntarily plunged into a chasm, but has suffered death at the hands of an enemy of his faith. And he has received a more certain oracle from his Lord, who is also the King of his country: “Fear not them who kill the body, but cannot kill the soul?”²¹⁴ The Decii dedicated themselves to death with a formal declaration. They did so to deliver the Roman army by falling in battle and calming the gods’ anger with their blood. If they did this, let the holy martyrs not be proud, as though they had earned a share in that country of eternal life and happiness. They have competed with one another in faith inspired by love and love inspired by faith, even to the shedding of their blood. They have loved not only the brothers and sisters for whom it was shed, but also, as commanded, the enemies who shed it. Marcus Pulvillus was dedicating a temple to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva when he received false news that his son had died. The news was meant to upset him and make him leave, so that his colleague would gain the glory of dedicating the temple. But Pulvillus received it with such indifference that he even ordered his son’s body to be thrown out unburied. His love of glory had overcome his grief. If he did this, how can anyone claim to have done a great thing by preaching the gospel? Through the gospel, the citizens of the heavenly city are freed from many errors and gathered from their many wanderings. When such a person was concerned about burying his father, his Lord said to him, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead?”²¹⁵ Regulus returned from Rome to his cruel enemies rather than break his oath to them. The Romans wanted to keep him, but he is said to have replied that he could not live in Rome with the dignity of an honorable citizen after being a slave to the Africans. The Carthaginians put him to death with the utmost torture because he had spoken against them in the senate. If Regulus did this, what tortures should we not endure to remain faithful to our heavenly country, whose happiness faith itself leads us to? And what can a person claim to have given the Lord in return for all his gifts? Even if that person suffers for faithfulness to him what Regulus suffered to keep faith with his ruthless enemies, what has he given in return? How can a Christian dare boast of choosing poverty? He has chosen it so that, during this life’s pilgrimage, he can travel with fewer burdens toward the country where the true riches are, namely God himself. How can he boast when he hears or reads about Lucius Valerius? Valerius died while serving as consul and was so poor that the people collected money for his funeral. Or consider Quintius Cincinnatus. He owned only four acres, which he farmed with his own hands. He was taken from the plow and made dictator, an office even more honorable than consul. After winning great glory by defeating the enemy, he still chose to remain poor. How can anyone boast of a great achievement because no earthly reward has persuaded him to give up his connection with that heavenly and eternal country? He hears that even the great gifts offered by Pyrrhus, king of the Epirots, could not persuade Fabricius to abandon Rome. Pyrrhus promised him a fourth of his kingdom, but Fabricius preferred to remain in Rome, poor and a private citizen. Their republic, meaning the people’s interest, the country’s interest, and the common interest, was highly prosperous and wealthy. Yet these men were so poor in their own homes that a censor expelled one of them from that senate of poor men. He had already been consul twice, but he was found to possess ten pounds of silver plate. The very men whose victories enriched the public treasury were this poor. Should not all Christians understand that they must not boast? They share their wealth for a far nobler purpose. As the Acts of the Apostles says, they distribute to each according to need. No one calls anything his own, but all things are held in common.²¹⁶ They do this to gain the company of angels, while those Romans did much the same to preserve Rome’s glory.

How could these, and whatever like things are found in the Roman history, have become so widely known, and have been proclaimed by so great a fame, had not the Roman empire, extending far and wide, been raised to its greatness by magnificent successes? Wherefore, through that empire, so extensive and of so long continuance, so illustrious and glorious also through the virtues of such great men, the reward which they sought was rendered to their earnest aspirations, and also examples are set before us, containing necessary admonition, in order that we may be stung with shame if we shall see that we have not held fast those virtues for the sake of the most glorious city of God, which are, in whatever way, resembled by those virtues which they held fast for the sake of the glory of a terrestrial city, and that, too, if we shall feel conscious that we have held them fast, we may not be lifted up with pride, because, as the apostle says, "The sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us."²¹⁷ But so far as regards human and temporal glory, the lives of these ancient Romans were reckoned sufficiently worthy. Therefore, also, we see, in the light of that truth which, veiled in the Old Testament, is revealed in the New, namely, that it is not in view of terrestrial and temporal benefits, which divine providence grants promiscuously to good and evil, that God is to be worshipped, but in view of eternal life, everlasting gifts, and of the society of the heavenly city itself;—in the light of this truth we see that the Jews were most righteously given as a trophy to the glory of the Romans; for we see that these Romans, who rested on earthly glory, and sought to obtain it by virtues, such as they were, conquered those who, in their great depravity, slew and rejected the giver of true glory, and of the eternal city.

How could these deeds, and others like them in Roman history, have become so widely known and celebrated? They could not have, unless the Roman Empire had spread far and wide and grown great through magnificent victories. The empire was vast and long-lasting, and the virtues of such great men made it illustrious and glorious. Through it, they received the reward they had earnestly sought. Their lives also offer us examples and necessary warnings. We should feel ashamed if we have not practiced, for the sake of the most glorious city of God, virtues that in some way resemble those they practiced for the glory of an earthly city. And if we know that we have practiced them, we should not become proud. As the apostle says, “The sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us.”²¹⁷ Yet the lives of these ancient Romans were considered worthy enough to earn human and temporary glory. This helps us see a truth that was hidden in the Old Testament and revealed in the New. We should not worship God for earthly and temporary benefits, which divine providence gives freely to both good and evil people. We should worship him for eternal life, everlasting gifts, and fellowship in the heavenly city itself. In the light of this truth, we see that the Jews were most justly handed over as a trophy to the glory of the Romans. The Romans relied on earthly glory and sought it through virtues, such as they were. They conquered those who, in their great depravity, killed and rejected the giver of true glory and of the eternal city.

19. Concerning the difference between true glory and the desire of domination.

19. On the difference between true glory and the desire to dominate.

There is assuredly a difference between the desire of human glory and the desire of domination; for, though he who has an overweening delight in human glory will be also very prone to aspire earnestly after domination, nevertheless they who desire the true glory even of human praise strive not to displease those who judge well of them. For there are many good moral qualities, of which many are competent judges, although they are not possessed by many; and by those good moral qualities those men press on to glory, honour, and domination, of whom Sallust says, "But they press on by the true way."

There is certainly a difference between the desire for human glory and the desire for domination. Someone who delights excessively in human glory will also be very likely to seek domination eagerly. Yet those who seek the genuine glory of human praise strive not to displease those who judge them favorably. Many people can recognize good moral qualities, although few possess them. Through these qualities, some people strive for glory, honor, and domination. Sallust says of them, "But they press on by the true way."

But whosoever, without possessing that desire of glory which makes one fear to displease those who judge his conduct, desires domination and power, very often seeks to obtain what he loves by most open crimes. Therefore he who desires glory presses on to obtain it either by the true way, or certainly by deceit and artifice, wishing to appear good when he is not. Therefore to him who possesses virtues it is a great virtue to despise glory; for contempt of it is seen by God, but is not manifest to human judgment. For whatever any one does before the eyes of men in order to show himself to be a despiser of glory, if they suspect that he is doing it in order to get greater praise,—that is, greater glory,—he has no means of demonstrating to the perceptions of those who suspect him that the case is really otherwise than they suspect it to be. But he who despises the judgment of praisers, despises also the rashness of suspectors. Their salvation, indeed, he does not despise, if he is truly good; for so great is the righteousness of that man who receives his virtues from the Spirit of God, that he loves his very enemies, and so loves them that he desires that his haters and detractors may be turned to righteousness, and become his associates, and that not in an earthly but in a heavenly country. But with respect to his praisers, though he sets little value on their praise, he does not set little value on their love; neither does he elude their praise, lest he should forfeit their love. And, therefore, he strives earnestly to have their praises directed to Him from whom every one receives whatever in him is truly praiseworthy. But he who is a despiser of glory, but is greedy of domination, exceeds the beasts in the vices of cruelty and luxuriousness. Such, indeed, were certain of the Romans, who, wanting the love of esteem, wanted not the thirst for domination; and that there were many such, history testifies. But it was Nero Cæsar who was the first to reach the summit, and, as it were, the citadel, of this vice; for so great was his luxuriousness, that one would have thought there was nothing manly to be dreaded in him, and such his cruelty, that, had not the contrary been known, no one would have thought there was anything effeminate in his character. Nevertheless power and domination are not given even to such men save by the providence of the most high God, when He judges that the state of human affairs is worthy of such lords. The divine utterance is clear on this matter; for the Wisdom of God thus speaks: "By me kings reign, and tyrants possess the land."²¹⁸ But, that it may not be thought that by "tyrants" is meant, not wicked and impious kings, but brave men, in accordance with the ancient use of the word, as when Virgil says,

A person may desire power and domination without desiring the glory that makes him fear the disapproval of others. Such a person often seeks what he loves through open crimes. By contrast, someone who desires glory seeks it either by the true path or through deception and trickery. If he is not good, he wants to appear good. For a person who has virtues, it is a great virtue to despise glory. God sees this contempt, but people cannot readily judge it. Suppose someone acts publicly to show that he despises glory. Others may suspect that he does so to gain greater praise, and therefore greater glory. He has no way to prove to them that they are mistaken. But a person who disregards the judgment of those who praise him also disregards the hasty suspicions of others. If he is truly good, however, he does not disregard their salvation. A person who receives his virtues from the Spirit of God is so righteous that he loves even his enemies. He loves them so much that he wants those who hate and criticize him to turn to righteousness. He wants them to become his companions, not in an earthly country, but in a heavenly one. As for those who praise him, he places little value on their praise, but he values their love. He does not avoid their praise, for fear of losing their love. Instead, he strives to direct their praise to the one from whom everyone receives whatever is truly praiseworthy in them. But someone who despises glory and hungers for domination surpasses beasts in cruelty and self-indulgence. Some Romans were like this. They lacked the love of esteem, but not the thirst for domination. History shows that there were many such men. Nero Caesar was the first to reach the summit, the very citadel, of this vice. His self-indulgence was so extreme that one might have thought there was nothing manly to fear in him. Yet his cruelty was so great that, had the contrary not been known, no one would have thought him effeminate. Even such men receive power and domination only through the providence of the Most High God. He gives it when he judges that the state of human affairs deserves such rulers. Scripture speaks clearly on this matter. The Wisdom of God says, "By me kings reign, and tyrants possess the land."²¹⁸ But someone might think that "tyrants" means brave men, rather than wicked and impious kings. This was the ancient use of the word, as when Virgil says,

in another place it is most unambiguously said of God, that He "maketh the man who is an hypocrite to reign on account of the perversity of the people."²²⁰ Wherefore, though I have, according to my ability, shown for what reason God, who alone is true and just, helped forward the Romans, who were good according to a certain standard of an earthly state, to the acquirement of the glory of so great an empire, there may be, nevertheless, a more hidden cause, known better to God than to us, depending on the diversity of the merits of the human race. Among all who are truly pious, it is at all events agreed that no one without true piety—that is, true worship of the true God—can have true virtue; and that it is not true virtue which is the slave of human praise. Though, nevertheless, they who are not citizens of the eternal city, which is called the city of God in the sacred Scriptures, are more useful to the earthly city when they possess even that virtue than if they had not even that. But there could be nothing more fortunate for human affairs than that, by the mercy of God, they who are endowed with true piety of life, if they have the skill for ruling people, should also have the power. But such men, however great virtues they may possess in this life, attribute it solely to the grace of God that He has bestowed it on them—willing, believing, seeking. And, at the same time, they understand how far they are short of that perfection of righteousness which exists in the society of those holy angels for which they are striving to fit themselves. But however much that virtue may be praised and cried up, which without true piety is the slave of human glory, it is not at all to be compared even to the feeble beginnings of the virtue of the saints, whose hope is placed in the grace and mercy of the true God.

Elsewhere, Scripture says very clearly of God that he “maketh the man who is an hypocrite to reign on account of the perversity of the people.”²²⁰ I have tried, to the best of my ability, to explain why God helped the Romans gain the glory of so great an empire. He alone is true and just, and the Romans were good by the standards of an earthly state. Still, there may be a more hidden cause, known better to God than to us. It may depend on the differing merits of human beings. All who are truly devout agree that no one can have true virtue without true piety. True piety means truly worshiping the true God. They also agree that virtue enslaved to human praise is not true virtue. Even so, those who are not citizens of the eternal city are more useful to the earthly city when they have even that kind of virtue. They are less useful if they lack even that. Sacred Scripture calls the eternal city the city of God. Nothing could be better for human affairs than for truly devout people to have the power to rule, by God’s mercy, if they also have the skill. However great their virtues in this life, such people credit them solely to God’s grace. They know that he has given them these virtues as they willed, believed, and sought them. They also understand how far they fall short of the perfect righteousness found among the holy angels. They strive to make themselves fit for that company. Virtue that is enslaved to human glory and lacks true piety may be highly praised and celebrated. Even so, it cannot compare with even the weak beginnings of the saints’ virtue. Their hope rests in the grace and mercy of the true God.

20. That it is as shameful for the virtues to serve human glory as bodily pleasure.

20. It is as shameful for virtues to serve human glory as to serve bodily pleasure.

Philosophers,—who place the end of human good in virtue itself, in order to put to shame certain other philosophers, who indeed approve of the virtues, but measure them all with reference to the end of bodily pleasure, and think that this pleasure is to be sought for its own sake, but the virtues on account of pleasure,—are wont to paint a kind of word-picture, in which Pleasure sits like a luxurious queen on a royal seat, and all the virtues are subjected to her as slaves, watching her nod, that they may do whatever she shall command. She commands Prudence to be ever on the watch to discover how Pleasure may rule, and be safe. Justice she orders to grant what benefits she can, in order to secure those friendships which are necessary for bodily pleasure; to do wrong to no one, lest, on account of the breaking of the laws, Pleasure be not able to live in security. Fortitude she orders to keep her mistress, that is, Pleasure, bravely in her mind, if any affliction befall her body which does not occasion death, in order that by remembrance of former delights she may mitigate the poignancy of present pain. Temperance she commands to take only a certain quantity even of the most favourite food, lest, through immoderate use, anything prove hurtful by disturbing the health of the body, and thus Pleasure, which the Epicureans make to consist chiefly in the health of the body, be grievously offended. Thus the virtues, with the whole dignity of their glory, will be the slaves of Pleasure, as of some imperious and disreputable woman.

Some philosophers hold that virtue itself is the highest human good. To shame certain other philosophers, they like to paint a picture in words. These other philosophers approve of the virtues, but measure them all by bodily pleasure. They believe pleasure should be sought for its own sake, and the virtues for the sake of pleasure. In the picture, Pleasure sits on a royal throne like a queen surrounded by luxury. All the virtues serve her as slaves. They watch for her nod, ready to do whatever she commands. She commands Prudence to be constantly alert, finding ways for Pleasure to rule and remain safe. She orders Justice to grant whatever favors she can. These favors secure the friendships necessary for bodily pleasure. Justice must also wrong no one, lest breaking the laws make it impossible for Pleasure to live safely. She orders Fortitude to keep her mistress, Pleasure, bravely in mind when bodily suffering falls short of death. By remembering past delights, Fortitude can ease the sharpness of present pain. Pleasure commands Temperance to eat only a certain amount, even of her favorite foods. Excess might harm the body's health and so deeply offend Pleasure. The Epicureans hold that Pleasure consists chiefly in bodily health. Thus the virtues, in all the dignity of their glory, become slaves to Pleasure, like slaves to a domineering and disreputable woman.

There is nothing, say our philosophers, more disgraceful and monstrous than this picture, and which the eyes of good men can less endure. And they say the truth. But I do not think that the picture would be sufficiently becoming, even if it were made so that the virtues should be represented as the slaves of human glory; for, though that glory be not a luxurious woman, it is nevertheless puffed up, and has much vanity in it. Wherefore it is unworthy of the solidity and firmness of the virtues to represent them as serving this glory, so that Prudence shall provide nothing, Justice distribute nothing, Temperance moderate nothing, except to the end that men may be pleased and vainglory served. Nor will they be able to defend themselves from the charge of such baseness, whilst they, by way of being despisers of glory, disregard the judgment of other men, seem to themselves wise, and please themselves. For their virtue,—if, indeed, it is virtue at all,—is only in another way subjected to human praise; for he who seeks to please himself seeks still to please man. But he who, with true piety towards God, whom he loves, believes, and hopes in, fixes his attention more on those things in which he displeases himself, than on those things, if there are any such, which please himself, or rather, not himself, but the truth, does not attribute that by which he can now please the truth to anything but to the mercy of Him whom he has feared to displease, giving thanks for what in him is healed, and pouring out prayers for the healing of that which is yet unhealed.

Our philosophers say that nothing is more disgraceful or monstrous than this picture. Nothing is harder for good people to look at. They are right. But I do not think the picture would be fitting even if it showed the virtues as slaves of human glory. Glory may not be a woman given to luxury, but it is still puffed up and full of vanity. The virtues are solid and firm, and it is beneath them to serve such glory. Yet this picture would have Prudence plan, Justice distribute, and Temperance restrain only to please others and serve vainglory. Nor can the philosophers escape the charge of such baseness by claiming to despise glory. They disregard others’ judgment, consider themselves wise, and are pleased with themselves. Their virtue, if it is virtue at all, is merely subject to human praise in another way. Whoever seeks to please himself still seeks to please a human being. But consider someone who is truly devoted to God, whom he loves, believes in, and hopes in. He pays more attention to what displeases him in himself than to anything that pleases him. Or rather, he attends less to anything that pleases not himself but the truth. He does not credit his present ability to please the truth to anything but God’s mercy. He has feared to displease God, and he thanks him for what has been healed in him. He also prays for the healing of what remains unhealed.

21. That the Roman dominion was granted by Him from whom is all power, and by whose providence all things are ruled.

21. God granted Rome its dominion. All power comes from him, and he rules all things through his providence.

These things being so, we do not attribute the power of giving kingdoms and empires to any save to the true God, who gives happiness in the kingdom of heaven to the pious alone, but gives kingly power on earth both to the pious and the impious, as it may please Him, whose good pleasure is always just. For though we have said something about the principles which guide His administration, in so far as it has seemed good to Him to explain it, nevertheless it is too much for us, and far surpasses our strength, to discuss the hidden things of men's hearts, and by a clear examination to determine the merits of various kingdoms. He, therefore, who is the one true God, who never leaves the human race without just judgment and help, gave a kingdom to the Romans when He would, and as great as He would, as He did also to the Assyrians, and even the Persians, by whom, as their own books testify, only two gods are worshipped, the one good and the other evil,—to say nothing concerning the Hebrew people, of whom I have already spoken as much as seemed necessary, who, as long as they were a kingdom, worshipped none save the true God. The same, therefore, who gave to the Persians harvests, though they did not worship the goddess Segetia, who gave the other blessings of the earth, though they did not worship the many gods which the Romans supposed to preside, each one over some particular thing, or even many of them over each several thing,—He, I say, gave the Persians dominion, though they worshipped none of those gods to whom the Romans believed themselves indebted for the empire. And the same is true in respect of men as well as nations. He who gave power to Marius gave it also to Caius Cæsar; He who gave it to Augustus gave it also to Nero; He also who gave it to the most benignant emperors, the Vespasians, father and son, gave it also to the cruel Domitian; and, finally, to avoid the necessity of going over them all, He who gave it to the Christian Constantine gave it also to the apostate Julian, whose gifted mind was deceived by a sacrilegious and detestable curiosity, stimulated by the love of power. And it was because he was addicted through curiosity to vain oracles, that, confident of victory, he burned the ships which were laden with the provisions necessary for his army, and therefore, engaging with hot zeal in rashly audacious enterprises, he was soon slain, as the just consequence of his recklessness, and left his army unprovisioned in an enemy's country, and in such a predicament that it never could have escaped, save by altering the boundaries of the Roman empire, in violation of that omen of the god Terminus of which I spoke in the preceding book; for the god Terminus yielded to necessity, though he had not yielded to Jupiter. Manifestly these things are ruled and governed by the one God according as He pleases; and if His motives are hid, are they therefore unjust?

These things being so, we credit only the true God with the power to grant kingdoms and empires. In the kingdom of heaven, he gives happiness only to the godly. But on earth, he gives royal power to both the godly and the ungodly, as he pleases. And what pleases him is always just. We have said something about the principles that guide his rule, insofar as he has chosen to explain them. Even so, examining the secrets of human hearts and clearly determining the merits of various kingdoms is beyond us. It far exceeds our abilities. The one true God never leaves the human race without just judgment and help. He gave the Romans a kingdom when he chose and made it as great as he chose. He did the same for the Assyrians and the Persians. The Persians, as their own books testify, worship only two gods, one good and the other evil. I need not say more about the Hebrew people, whom I have already discussed as much as seemed necessary. While they had a kingdom, they worshipped no one but the true God. God gave the Persians harvests, although they did not worship the goddess Segetia. He gave them the other blessings of the earth, although they did not worship the many Roman gods. The Romans believed that each of these gods ruled over some particular thing, or that many gods ruled over each thing. Yet God gave the Persians dominion, although they worshipped none of the gods to whom the Romans credited their empire. The same is true of individuals as of nations. He who gave power to Marius also gave it to Caius Caesar. He who gave it to Augustus also gave it to Nero. He gave it to the Vespasians, father and son, who were exceptionally kind emperors. He also gave it to the cruel Domitian. Finally, to avoid listing them all, he who gave power to the Christian Constantine also gave it to Julian the apostate. Julian’s gifted mind was deceived by a sacrilegious and detestable curiosity, driven by his love of power. His curiosity led him to rely on worthless oracles. Confident of victory, he burned the ships carrying the supplies his army needed. He then threw himself eagerly into reckless and daring ventures. Soon he was killed, as a just consequence of his recklessness. He left his army without supplies in enemy territory. It could only escape by changing the boundaries of the Roman empire. This violated the omen of the god Terminus, which I discussed in the previous book. For Terminus gave way to necessity, though he had not given way to Jupiter. Clearly, the one God rules and governs these things as he pleases. And if his reasons are hidden, does that make them unjust?

22. The durations and issues of war depend on the will of God.

22. How long wars last and how they end depend on God's will.

Thus also the durations of wars are determined by Him as He may see meet, according to His righteous will, and pleasure, and mercy, to afflict or to console the human race, so that they are sometimes of longer, sometimes of shorter duration. The war of the Pirates and the third Punic war were terminated with incredible celerity. Also the war of the fugitive gladiators, though in it many Roman generals and the consuls were defeated, and Italy was terribly wasted and ravaged, was nevertheless ended in the third year, having itself been, during its continuance, the end of much. The Picentes, the Marsi, and the Peligni, not distant but Italian nations, after a long and most loyal servitude under the Roman yoke, attempted to raise their heads into liberty, though many nations had now been subjected to the Roman power, and Carthage had been overthrown. In this Italian war the Romans were very often defeated, and two consuls perished, besides other noble senators; nevertheless this calamity was not protracted over a long space of time, for the fifth year put an end to it. But the second Punic war, lasting for the space of eighteen years, and occasioning the greatest disasters and calamities to the republic, wore out and well-nigh consumed the strength of the Romans; for in two battles about seventy thousand Romans fell.²²¹ The first Punic war was terminated after having been waged for three-and-twenty years. The Mithridatic war was waged for forty years. And that no one may think that in the early and much belauded times of the Romans they were far braver and more able to bring wars to a speedy termination, the Samnite war was protracted for nearly fifty years; and in this war the Romans were so beaten that they were even put under the yoke. But because they did not love glory for the sake of justice, but seemed rather to have loved justice for the sake of glory, they broke the peace and the treaty which had been concluded. These things I mention, because many, ignorant of past things, and some also dissimulating what they know, if in Christian times they see any war protracted a little longer than they expected, straightway make a fierce and insolent attack on our religion, exclaiming that, but for it, the deities would have been supplicated still, according to ancient rites; and then, by that bravery of the Romans, which, with the help of Mars and Bellona, speedily brought to an end such great wars, this war also would be speedily terminated. Let them, therefore, who have read history recollect what long-continued wars, having various issues and entailing woful slaughter, were waged by the ancient Romans, in accordance with the general truth that the earth, like the tempestuous deep, is subject to agitations from tempests—tempests of such evils, in various degrees,—and let them sometimes confess what they do not like to own, and not, by madly speaking against God, destroy themselves and deceive the ignorant.

God also determines how long wars last, as he sees fit. According to his righteous will, pleasure, and mercy, he afflicts or comforts the human race. Thus some wars last longer and others are shorter. The war against the pirates and the Third Punic War ended with incredible speed. The war against the escaped gladiators also ended in its third year. Yet many Roman generals and consuls were defeated in it, and Italy was terribly devastated and ravaged. While it lasted, the war itself brought much to an end. The Picentes, Marsi, and Peligni were Italian peoples who lived nearby. They had served Rome long and most loyally under its yoke. Yet they tried to raise their heads and win freedom, although Rome had already conquered many nations and overthrown Carthage. In this Italian war, the Romans were defeated very often. Two consuls died, along with other noble senators. Nevertheless, this calamity did not last long. It ended in the fifth year. But the Second Punic War lasted eighteen years and brought the republic its greatest disasters and calamities. It exhausted and nearly consumed Rome’s strength. About seventy thousand Romans fell in two battles.²²¹ The First Punic War ended after twenty-three years. The Mithridatic War lasted forty years. Someone might think that Romans were far braver in their early and much-praised days. They might think that Romans could then end wars quickly. Yet the Samnite War dragged on for nearly fifty years. In that war, the Romans were so badly defeated that they were even forced to pass under the yoke. They did not love glory for the sake of justice. Rather, they seemed to love justice for the sake of glory. So they broke the peace and the treaty they had made. I mention these things because many people know nothing of the past. Others pretend not to know what they do know. If they see a war in Christian times last a little longer than expected, they immediately attack our religion fiercely and insolently. They cry that, if not for our religion, people would still pray to the gods according to the ancient rites. Then, they say, Roman bravery would quickly end this war too. With the help of Mars and Bellona, that bravery quickly brought such great wars to an end. So let those who have read history remember the long wars fought by the ancient Romans. Those wars had varied outcomes and brought dreadful slaughter. This agrees with a general truth. The earth, like the stormy sea, is subject to storms of such evils in varying degrees. Let them at times admit what they do not like to acknowledge. Let them not destroy themselves and deceive the ignorant by speaking madly against God.

23. Concerning the war in which Radagaisus, king of the Goths, a worshipper of demons, was conquered in one day, with all his mighty forces.

23. About the war in which Radagaisus, king of the Goths and a worshipper of demons, was defeated in one day, along with all his mighty forces.

Nevertheless they do not mention with thanksgiving what God has very recently, and within our own memory, wonderfully and mercifully done, but as far as in them lies they attempt, if possible, to bury it in universal oblivion. But should we be silent about these things, we should be in like manner ungrateful. When Radagaisus, king of the Goths, having taken up his position very near to the city, with a vast and savage army, was already close upon the Romans, he was in one day so speedily and so thoroughly beaten, that, whilst not even one Roman was wounded, much less slain, far more than a hundred thousand of his army were prostrated, and he himself and his sons, having been captured, were forthwith put to death, suffering the punishment they deserved. For had so impious a man, with so great and so impious a host, entered the city, whom would he have spared? what tombs of the martyrs would he have respected? in his treatment of what person would he have manifested the fear of God? whose blood would he have refrained from shedding? whose chastity would he have wished to preserve inviolate? But how loud would they not have been in the praises of their gods! How insultingly they would have boasted, saying that Radagaisus had conquered, that he had been able to achieve such great things, because he propitiated and won over the gods by daily sacrifices,—a thing which the Christian religion did not allow the Romans to do! For when he was approaching to those places where he was overwhelmed at the nod of the Supreme Majesty, as his fame was everywhere increasing, it was being told us at Carthage that the pagans were believing, publishing, and boasting, that he, on account of the help and protection of the gods friendly to him, because of the sacrifices which he was said to be daily offering to them, would certainly not be conquered by those who were not performing such sacrifices to the Roman gods, and did not even permit that they should be offered by any one. And now these wretched men do not give thanks to God for His great mercy, who, having determined to chastise the corruption of men, which was worthy of far heavier chastisement than the corruption of the barbarians, tempered His indignation with such mildness as, in the first instance, to cause that the king of the Goths should be conquered in a wonderful manner, lest glory should accrue to demons, whom he was known to be supplicating, and thus the minds of the weak should be overthrown; and then, afterwards, to cause that, when Rome was to be taken, it should be taken by those barbarians who, contrary to any custom of all former wars, protected, through reverence for the Christian religion, those who fled for refuge to the sacred places, and who so opposed the demons themselves, and the rites of impious sacrifices, that they seemed to be carrying on a far more terrible war with them than with men. Thus did the true Lord and Governor of things both scourge the Romans mercifully, and, by the marvellous defeat of the worshippers of demons, show that those sacrifices were not necessary even for the safety of present things; so that, by those who do not obstinately hold out, but prudently consider the matter, true religion may not be deserted on account of the urgencies of the present time, but may be more clung to in most confident expectation of eternal life.

Yet they do not give thanks for what God has so wonderfully and mercifully done in our own recent memory. Instead, they do all they can to bury it in universal forgetfulness. But if we remained silent about these things, we too would be ungrateful. Radagaisus, king of the Goths, had taken up a position very near the city with a vast and savage army. He was already closing in on the Romans. Yet in a single day he was defeated so quickly and completely that not one Roman was wounded, much less killed. Far more than a hundred thousand of his soldiers fell. He and his sons were captured and immediately put to death, receiving the punishment they deserved. If such a godless man, with such a large and godless army, had entered the city, whom would he have spared? Which martyrs’ tombs would he have respected? Whom would he have treated with fear of God? Whose blood would he have refrained from shedding? Whose chastity would he have wanted to leave untouched? How loudly they would have praised their gods! How insultingly they would have boasted that Radagaisus had conquered and achieved such great things through daily sacrifices. They would have said he had appeased and won over the gods, while Christianity forbade the Romans to do the same. As he approached the places where he was destroyed at the command of the supreme God, his fame was spreading everywhere. In Carthage, we heard what the pagans were believing, spreading, and boasting. They said the gods favored and protected him because he supposedly offered them daily sacrifices. They said he certainly could not be defeated by people who offered no such sacrifices to the Roman gods and did not even allow anyone else to offer them. Yet these wretched people now fail to thank God for his great mercy. He had resolved to punish human corruption, which deserved far harsher punishment than the corruption of the barbarians. But he tempered his anger with great mildness. First, he brought about the Gothic king’s remarkable defeat. This prevented glory from going to the demons Radagaisus was known to pray to, and kept the faith of the weak from being overturned. Then, when Rome was to be taken, he brought it about that these barbarians took it. Contrary to the custom of all earlier wars, they protected those who took refuge in sacred places, out of respect for Christianity. They also opposed the demons themselves and the rites of godless sacrifice. Indeed, they seemed to wage a far more terrible war against them than against human beings. In this way, the true Lord and ruler of all things punished the Romans mercifully. Through the remarkable defeat of the demon worshippers, he also showed that those sacrifices were not needed even for safety in this present life. So those who do not stubbornly resist, but consider the matter wisely, may not abandon the true religion because of present hardships. Instead, they may cling to it more firmly, confidently expecting eternal life.

24. What was the happiness of the Christian emperors, and how far it was true happiness.

24. What made the Christian emperors happy, and to what extent their happiness was true happiness.

For neither do we say that certain Christian emperors were therefore happy because they ruled a long time, or, dying a peaceful death, left their sons to succeed them in the empire, or subdued the enemies of the republic, or were able both to guard against and to suppress the attempt of hostile citizens rising against them. These and other gifts or comforts of this sorrowful life even certain worshippers of demons have merited to receive, who do not belong to the kingdom of God to which these belong; and this is to be traced to the mercy of God, who would not have those who believe in Him desire such things as the highest good. But we say that they are happy if they rule justly; if they are not lifted up amid the praises of those who pay them sublime honours, and the obsequiousness of those who salute them with an excessive humility, but remember that they are men; if they make their power the handmaid of His majesty by using it for the greatest possible extension of His worship; if they fear, love, worship God; if more than their own they love that kingdom in which they are not afraid to have partners; if they are slow to punish, ready to pardon; if they apply that punishment as necessary to government and defence of the republic, and not in order to gratify their own enmity; if they grant pardon, not that iniquity may go unpunished, but with the hope that the transgressor may amend his ways; if they compensate with the lenity of mercy and the liberality of benevolence for whatever severity they may be compelled to decree; if their luxury is as much restrained as it might have been unrestrained; if they prefer to govern depraved desires rather than any nation whatever; and if they do all these things, not through ardent desire of empty glory, but through love of eternal felicity, not neglecting to offer to the true God, who is their God, for their sins, the sacrifices of humility, contrition, and prayer. Such Christian emperors, we say, are happy in the present time by hope, and are destined to be so in the enjoyment of the reality itself, when that which we wait for shall have arrived.

We do not say that certain Christian emperors were happy merely because they ruled for a long time. Nor were they happy because they died peacefully and left their sons to succeed them. Nor was it because they defeated the republic’s enemies, or prevented and crushed rebellions by hostile citizens. Some worshippers of demons have also received these and other gifts and comforts of this sorrowful life. Unlike those emperors, they do not belong to the kingdom of God. This is due to God’s mercy. He does not want those who believe in him to desire such things as the highest good. Rather, we say that Christian emperors are happy if they rule justly. They must not become proud when people praise and lavish honors on them, or greet them with excessive humility. They must remember that they are human. They must make their power serve God’s majesty, using it to spread his worship as widely as possible. They must fear, love, and worship God. They must love his kingdom more than their own, for there they are not afraid to have others share their rule. They must be slow to punish and ready to pardon. They must punish only as necessary to govern and defend the republic, not to satisfy personal hatred. They must pardon not so that wrongdoing goes unpunished, but in the hope that the wrongdoer will change. They must balance any severity they are forced to impose with gentle mercy and generous kindness. They must restrain their enjoyment of luxury as much as they could have indulged it. They must prefer to rule over their corrupt desires rather than over any nation. They must do all this not from a burning desire for empty glory, but from love of eternal happiness. They must not neglect to offer the true God, who is their God, sacrifices of humility, repentance, and prayer for their sins. Such Christian emperors, we say, are happy now through hope. They are destined to be happy in the enjoyment of what they hope for, when it finally arrives.

25. Concerning the prosperity which God granted to the Christian emperor Constantine.

25. About the prosperity God granted to Constantine, the Christian emperor.

For the good God, lest men, who believe that He is to be worshipped with a view to eternal life, should think that no one could attain to all this high estate, and to this terrestrial dominion, unless he should be a worshipper of the demons,—supposing that these spirits have great power with respect to such things,—for this reason He gave to the Emperor Constantine, who was not a worshipper of demons, but of the true God Himself, such fulness of earthly gifts as no one would even dare wish for. To him also He granted the honour of founding a city,²²² a companion to the Roman empire, the daughter, as it were, of Rome itself, but without any temple or image of the demons. He reigned for a long period as sole emperor, and unaided held and defended the whole Roman world. In conducting and carrying on wars he was most victorious; in overthrowing tyrants he was most successful. He died at a great age, of sickness and old age, and left his sons to succeed him in the empire.²²³ But again, lest any emperor should become a Christian in order to merit the happiness of Constantine, when every one should be a Christian for the sake of eternal life, God took away Jovian far sooner than Julian, and permitted that Gratian should be slain by the sword of a tyrant. But in his case there was far more mitigation of the calamity than in the case of the great Pompey, for he could not be avenged by Cato, whom he had left, as it were, heir to the civil war. But Gratian, though pious minds require not such consolations, was avenged by Theodosius, whom he had associated with himself in the empire, though he had a little brother of his own, being more desirous of a faithful alliance than of extensive power.

The good God wanted to prevent those who believe he should be worshipped for eternal life from thinking that only demon worshippers could reach such high rank and rule on earth. They might suppose that these spirits had great power over such things. For this reason, he gave Emperor Constantine an abundance of earthly gifts that no one would even dare to wish for. Constantine did not worship demons, but the true God himself. God also granted him the honor of founding a city,²²² a companion to the Roman Empire and, as it were, a daughter of Rome itself. Yet it had no temple or image of demons. He reigned for a long time as sole emperor. Without help, he ruled and defended the whole Roman world. He was most victorious in conducting wars and most successful in overthrowing tyrants. He died at a great age from illness and old age. He left his sons to succeed him as emperor.²²³ But God also wanted to prevent any emperor from becoming a Christian to earn Constantine’s happiness. Everyone should be a Christian for the sake of eternal life. So God took Jovian away much sooner than Julian and allowed Gratian to be killed by a tyrant’s sword. Yet Gratian’s misfortune was far less severe than that of the great Pompey. Pompey could not be avenged by Cato, whom he had left, as it were, as heir to the civil war. Gratian, however, was avenged by Theodosius, though devout minds need no such consolation. Gratian had made Theodosius his fellow emperor, even though he had a younger brother of his own. He desired a faithful ally more than greater power.

26. On the faith and piety of Theodosius Augustus.

26. On the faith and devotion of Emperor Theodosius.

And on this account, Theodosius not only preserved during the lifetime of Gratian that fidelity which was due to him, but also, after his death, he, like a true Christian, took his little brother Valentinian under his protection, as joint emperor, after he had been expelled by Maximus, the murderer of his father. He guarded him with paternal affection, though he might without any difficulty have got rid of him, being entirely destitute of all resources, had he been animated with the desire of extensive empire, and not with the ambition of being a benefactor. It was therefore a far greater pleasure to him, when he had adopted the boy, and preserved to him his imperial dignity, to console him by his very humanity and kindness. Afterwards, when that success was rendering Maximus terrible, Theodosius, in the midst of his perplexing anxieties, was not drawn away to follow the suggestions of a sacrilegious and unlawful curiosity, but sent to John, whose abode was in the desert of Egypt,—for he had learned that this servant of God (whose fame was spreading abroad) was endowed with the gift of prophecy,—and from him he received assurance of victory. Immediately the slayer of the tyrant Maximus, with the deepest feelings of compassion and respect, restored the boy Valentinianus to his share in the empire from which he had been driven. Valentinianus being soon after slain by secret assassination, or by some other plot or accident, Theodosius, having again received a response from the prophet, and placing entire confidence in it, marched against the tyrant Eugenius, who had been unlawfully elected to succeed that emperor, and defeated his very powerful army, more by prayer than by the sword. Some soldiers who were at the battle reported to me that all the missiles they were throwing were snatched from their hands by a vehement wind, which blew from the direction of Theodosius' army upon the enemy; nor did it only drive with greater velocity the darts which were hurled against them, but also turned back upon their own bodies the darts which they themselves were throwing. And therefore the poet Claudian, although an alien from the name of Christ, nevertheless says in his praises of him, "O prince, too much beloved by God, for thee Æolus pours armed tempests from their caves; for thee the air fights, and the winds with one accord obey thy bugles."²²⁴ But the victor, as he had believed and predicted, overthrew the statues of Jupiter, which had been, as it were, consecrated by I know not what kind of rites against him, and set up in the Alps. And the thunderbolts of these statues, which were made of gold, he mirthfully and graciously presented to his couriers, who (as the joy of the occasion permitted) were jocularly saying that they would be most happy to be struck by such thunderbolts. The sons of his own enemies, whose fathers had been slain not so much by his orders as by the vehemence of war, having fled for refuge to a church, though they were not yet Christians, he was anxious, taking advantage of the occasion, to bring over to Christianity, and treated them with Christian love. Nor did he deprive them of their property, but, besides allowing them to retain it, bestowed on them additional honours. He did not permit private animosities to affect the treatment of any man after the war. He was not like Cinna, and Marius, and Sylla, and other such men, who wished not to finish civil wars even when they were finished, but rather grieved that they had arisen at all, than wished that when they were finished they should harm any one. Amid all these events, from the very commencement of his reign, he did not cease to help the troubled church against the impious by most just and merciful laws, which the heretical Valens, favouring the Arians, had vehemently afflicted. Indeed, he rejoiced more to be a member of this church than he did to be a king upon the earth. The idols of the Gentiles he everywhere ordered to be overthrown, understanding well that not even terrestrial gifts are placed in the power of demons, but in that of the true God. And what could be more admirable than his religious humility, when, compelled by the urgency of certain of his intimates, he avenged the grievous crime of the Thessalonians, which at the prayer of the bishops he had promised to pardon, and, being laid hold of by the discipline of the church, did penance in such a way that the sight of his imperial loftiness prostrated made the people who were interceding for him weep more than the consciousness of offence had made them fear it when enraged? These and other similar good works, which it would be long to tell, he carried with him from this world of time, where the greatest human nobility and loftiness are but vapour. Of these works the reward is eternal happiness, of which God is the giver, though only to those who are sincerely pious. But all other blessings and privileges of this life, as the world itself, light, air, earth, water, fruits, and the soul of man himself, his body, senses, mind, life, He lavishes on good and bad alike. And among these blessings is also to be reckoned the possession of an empire, whose extent He regulates according to the requirements of His providential government at various times. Whence, I see, we must now answer those who, being confuted and convicted by the most manifest proofs, by which it is shown that for obtaining these terrestrial things, which are all the foolish desire to have, that multitude of false gods is of no use, attempt to assert that the gods are to be worshipped with a view to the interest, not of the present life, but of that which is to come after death. For as to those who, for the sake of the friendship of this world, are willing to worship vanities, and do not grieve that they are left to their puerile understandings, I think they have been sufficiently answered in these five books; of which books, when I had published the first three, and they had begun to come into the hands of many, I heard that certain persons were preparing against them an answer of some kind or other in writing. Then it was told me that they had already written their answer, but were waiting a time when they could publish it without danger. Such persons I would advise not to desire what cannot be of any advantage to them; for it is very easy for a man to seem to himself to have answered arguments, when he has only been unwilling to be silent. For what is more loquacious than vanity? And though it be able, if it like, to shout more loudly than the truth, it is not, for all that, more powerful than the truth. But let men consider diligently all the things that we have said, and if, perchance, judging without party spirit, they shall clearly perceive that they are such things as may rather be shaken than torn up by their most impudent garrulity, and, as it were, satirical and mimic levity, let them restrain their absurdities, and let them choose rather to be corrected by the wise than to be lauded by the foolish. For if they are waiting an opportunity, not for liberty to speak the truth, but for licence to revile, may not that befall them which Tully says concerning some one, "Oh, wretched man! who was at liberty to sin?"²²⁵ Wherefore, whoever he be who deems himself happy because of licence to revile, he would be far happier if that were not allowed him at all; for he might all the while, laying aside empty boast, be contradicting those to whose views he is opposed by way of free consultation with them, and be listening, as it becomes him, honourably, gravely, candidly, to all that can be adduced by those whom he consults by friendly disputation.

For this reason, Theodosius remained loyal to Gratian throughout his life, as duty required. After Gratian’s death, he acted like a true Christian. He took Gratian’s young brother Valentinian under his protection as joint emperor. Maximus, the murderer of Valentinian’s father, had driven the boy out. Theodosius cared for him with a father’s love. Valentinian had no resources at all, and Theodosius could easily have disposed of him. But he wanted to help others, not to expand his empire. He took far greater pleasure in adopting the boy and preserving his imperial rank. By his humanity and kindness, he also comforted him. Later, Maximus’s success made him a fearsome threat. Though troubled by uncertainty, Theodosius did not turn to sacrilegious or unlawful means of discovering the future. Instead, he sent to John, who lived in the Egyptian desert. He had learned that this servant of God, whose fame was spreading, had the gift of prophecy. John assured him of victory. After killing the tyrant Maximus, Theodosius immediately restored young Valentinian to his share of the empire. He did so with the deepest compassion and respect. Soon afterward, Valentinian was killed, whether by secret assassination, some other plot, or an accident. Theodosius again received an answer from the prophet and trusted it completely. He marched against the tyrant Eugenius, who had been unlawfully chosen to succeed Valentinian. He defeated Eugenius’s very powerful army more by prayer than by the sword. Some soldiers who were at the battle told me what happened. A fierce wind blew from Theodosius’s army toward the enemy and snatched the enemy’s missiles from their hands. It also drove the darts thrown against them faster and turned their own darts back upon them. So the poet Claudian, though a stranger to the name of Christ, praised Theodosius in these words: "O prince, too much beloved by God, for thee Æolus pours armed tempests from their caves; for thee the air fights, and the winds with one accord obey thy bugles."²²⁴ After his victory, Theodosius overthrew the statues of Jupiter that had been set up in the Alps. They had been dedicated against him by some rites, though I do not know what kind. He did this as he had believed and foretold. The statues held golden thunderbolts, which he cheerfully and generously gave to his couriers. In the joy of the occasion, they had jokingly said they would be delighted to be struck by such thunderbolts. The sons of his enemies had taken refuge in a church, though they were not yet Christians. Their fathers had been killed less by his orders than by the violence of war. Theodosius was eager to use the occasion to bring the sons to Christianity, and he treated them with Christian love. He did not take their property. Instead, he let them keep it and gave them further honors. After the war, he allowed no personal grudges to affect his treatment of anyone. He was not like Cinna, Marius, Sylla, and others who would not end civil wars even after they were over. He regretted that the wars had begun at all. Once they were over, he did not want them to harm anyone. Throughout these events, from the beginning of his reign, he never stopped helping the troubled church. He protected it against the ungodly through laws that were both just and merciful. The heretical Valens, who favored the Arians, had severely afflicted the church. Theodosius was happier to belong to this church than to be a king on earth. He ordered the idols of the Gentiles to be overthrown everywhere. He understood that even earthly gifts are not in the power of demons, but of the true God. What could be more admirable than his religious humility? Some of his close companions pressed him to avenge the grievous crime of the people of Thessalonica. He did so, though he had promised the bishops, at their request, that he would pardon it. When the church disciplined him, he did penance. The sight of the emperor in his greatness, lying prostrate, moved the people pleading for him to tears. They wept more than they had feared his anger when they knew they had offended him. He carried these and other good works with him from this temporary world. It would take too long to tell of them all. In this world, even the greatest human nobility and grandeur are only a vapor. The reward for these works is eternal happiness. God gives it, but only to those who are sincerely devout. All the other blessings and privileges of this life he gives freely to good and bad alike. These include the world itself, light, air, earth, water, and fruits. They also include the human soul, body, senses, mind, and life. Possession of an empire is another such blessing. God determines its extent according to the needs of his providential rule at different times. I see, then, that we must now answer another group. The clearest proofs have refuted and convicted them. These proofs show that the multitude of false gods is no help in obtaining earthly things. Such things are all that foolish people desire. Yet these people now try to claim that the gods should be worshiped for the sake of the life after death, not this present life. Others are willing to worship worthless things for the sake of friendship with this world. They do not regret being left to their childish understanding. I think they have been sufficiently answered in these five books. After I published the first three, they began to reach many readers. I then heard that some people were preparing a written answer to them. Later I was told that they had already written it, but were waiting for a time when they could publish it safely. I would advise them not to desire what cannot benefit them. It is very easy to imagine that one has answered arguments when one has merely refused to remain silent. What is more talkative than vanity? It may choose to shout louder than the truth, but that does not make it more powerful. Let people carefully consider everything we have said. Perhaps they will judge without taking sides and clearly see that our arguments can at most be shaken, not uprooted, by the critics’ shameless chatter and their mocking, theatrical frivolity. If so, let them stop talking nonsense. Let them choose correction by the wise over praise from fools. Suppose these critics are waiting not for freedom to speak the truth, but for license to insult. Might they not suffer the fate Tully describes when he says of someone, "Oh, wretched man! who was at liberty to sin?"²²⁵ Whoever thinks himself happy because he is free to insult others would be much happier if he were not allowed to do so. Instead of making empty boasts, he could freely discuss his objections with those whose views he opposes. He could listen, as he ought, with honor, seriousness, and openness to everything they offer in friendly debate.