Book Nine

Book Nine

46 min
HAVING IN THE PRECEDING BOOK SHOWN THAT THE WORSHIP OF DEMONS MUST BE ABJURED, SINCE THEY IN A THOUSAND WAYS PROCLAIM THEMSELVES TO BE WICKED SPIRITS, AUGUSTINE IN THIS BOOK MEETS THOSE WHO ALLEGE A DISTINCTION AMONG DEMONS, SOME BEING EVIL, WHILE OTHERS ARE GOOD; AND, HAVING EXPLODED THIS DISTINCTION, HE PROVES THAT TO NO DEMON, BUT TO CHRIST ALONE, BELONGS THE OFFICE OF PROVIDING MEN WITH ETERNAL BLESSEDNESS.
In the previous book, Augustine showed that the worship of demons must be rejected. They reveal themselves to be wicked spirits in countless ways. In this book, he answers those who claim that some demons are evil while others are good. After disproving this distinction, he proves that only Christ, not any demon, can provide people with eternal blessedness.

1. The point at which the discussion has arrived, and what remains to be handled.

1. Where the discussion stands and what remains to be discussed.

Some have advanced the opinion that there are both good and bad gods; but some, thinking more respectfully of the gods have attributed to them so much honour and praise as to preclude the supposition of any god being wicked. But those who have maintained that there are wicked gods as well as good ones have included the demons under the name "gods," and sometimes, though more rarely, have called the gods demons; so that they admit that Jupiter, whom they make the king and head of all the rest, is called a demon by Homer. Those, on the other hand, who maintain that the gods are all good, and far more excellent than the men who are justly called good, are moved by the actions of the demons, which they can neither deny nor impute to the gods whose goodness they affirm, to distinguish between gods and demons; so that, whenever they find anything offensive in the deeds or sentiments by which unseen spirits manifest their power, they believe this to proceed not from the gods, but from the demons. At the same time they believe that, as no god can hold direct intercourse with men, these demons hold the position of mediators, ascending with prayers, and returning with gifts. This is the opinion of the Platonists, the ablest and most esteemed of their philosophers, with whom we therefore chose to debate this question,—whether the worship of a number of gods is of any service towards obtaining blessedness in the future life. And this is the reason why, in the preceding book, we have inquired how the demons, who take pleasure in such things as good and wise men loathe and execrate, in the sacrilegious and immoral fictions which the poets have written, not of men, but of the gods themselves, and in the wicked and criminal violence of magical arts, can be regarded as more nearly related and more friendly to the gods than men are, and can mediate between good men and the good gods; and it has been demonstrated that this is absolutely impossible.

Some have claimed that there are both good and evil gods. Others, thinking more respectfully of the gods, have honored and praised them so highly that they cannot suppose any god is wicked. Those who maintain that there are both wicked and good gods have included demons among those they call "gods." Sometimes, though less often, they have called the gods demons. Thus they admit that Homer calls Jupiter a demon, though they make him king and head of all the other gods. Others maintain that all the gods are good and far better than the people rightly called good. They are forced to distinguish between gods and demons because of what demons do. They cannot deny these actions or attribute them to gods whose goodness they affirm. So, whenever unseen spirits reveal their power through offensive deeds or sentiments, they believe these come from demons, not gods. At the same time, they believe that no god can communicate directly with humans. They therefore see demons as mediators, carrying prayers up to the gods and returning with gifts. This is the view of the Platonists, the most capable and respected of their philosophers. We therefore chose to debate with them whether worshiping many gods helps people attain blessedness in the future life. For this reason, in the preceding book, we examined how demons could be considered closer and friendlier to the gods than humans are. We also asked how demons could mediate between good people and the good gods. For demons take pleasure in things that good and wise people hate and condemn. These include the sacrilegious and immoral stories poets have written, not about humans, but about the gods themselves. They also include the wicked and criminal violence of magical arts. We have shown that it is absolutely impossible for demons to have such a relationship with the gods or to serve as mediators.

See Plutarch, on the Cessation of Oracles.

2. Whether among the demons, inferior to the gods, there are any good spirits under whose guardianship the human soul might reach true blessedness.

2. Whether any demons below the gods are good spirits who can guide the human soul to true blessedness.

This book, then, ought, according to the promise made in the end of the preceding one, to contain a discussion, not of the difference which exists among the gods, who, according to the Platonists, are all good, nor of the difference between gods and demons, the former of whom they separate by a wide interval from men, while the latter are placed intermediately between the gods and men, but of the difference, since they make one, among the demons themselves. This we shall discuss so far as it bears on our theme. It has been the common and usual belief that some of the demons are bad, others good; and this opinion, whether it be that of the Platonists or any other sect, must by no means be passed over in silence, lest some one suppose he ought to cultivate the good demons in order that by their mediation he may be accepted by the gods, all of whom he believes to be good, and that he may live with them after death; whereas he would thus be ensnared in the toils of wicked spirits, and would wander far from the true God, with whom alone, and in whom alone, the human soul, that is to say, the soul that is rational and intellectual, is blessed.

At the end of the previous book, I promised that this book would discuss the differences among demons themselves. The Platonists believe that all gods are good. They also place the gods far above humans, with demons between gods and humans. But our subject is not the differences among the gods, or the difference between gods and demons. It is the differences among demons, since the Platonists make such distinctions. We will discuss these differences as far as they bear on our subject. It is a common belief that some demons are bad and others are good. Whether this belief belongs to the Platonists or to another school, we must not pass over it in silence. Otherwise, someone might think he should cultivate good demons so that they may help him gain acceptance by the gods. He believes that all the gods are good and that he may live with them after death. But in doing so, he would be caught in the traps of wicked spirits. He would wander far from the true God. Only with God and in God is the human soul, the rational and intellectual soul, blessed.

3. What Apuleius attributes to the demons, to whom, though he does not deny them reason, he does not ascribe virtue.

3. What Apuleius attributes to demons, whom he considers rational but not virtuous.

What, then, is the difference between good and evil demons? For the Platonist Apuleius, in a treatise on this whole subject, while he says a great deal about their aerial bodies, has not a word to say of the spiritual virtues with which, if they were good, they must have been endowed. Not a word has he said, then, of that which could give them happiness; but proof of their misery he has given, acknowledging that their mind, by which they rank as reasonable beings, is not only not imbued and fortified with virtue so as to resist all unreasonable passions, but that it is somehow agitated with tempestuous emotions, and is thus on a level with the mind of foolish men. His own words are: "It is this class of demons the poets refer to, when, without serious error, they feign that the gods hate and love individuals among men, prospering and ennobling some, and opposing and distressing others. Therefore pity, indignation, grief, joy, every human emotion is experienced by the demons, with the same mental disturbance, and the same tide of feeling and thought. These turmoils and tempests banish them far from the tranquillity of the celestial gods." Can there be any doubt that in these words it is not some inferior part of their spiritual nature, but the very mind by which the demons hold their rank as rational beings, which he says is tossed with passion like a stormy sea? They cannot, then, be compared even to wise men, who with undisturbed mind resist these perturbations to which they are exposed in this life, and from which human infirmity is never exempt, and who do not yield themselves to approve of or perpetrate anything which might deflect them from the path of wisdom and law of rectitude. They resemble in character, though not in bodily appearance, wicked and foolish men. I might indeed say they are worse, inasmuch as they have grown old in iniquity, and incorrigible by punishment. Their mind, as Apuleius says, is a sea tossed with tempest, having no rallying point of truth or virtue in their soul from which they can resist their turbulent and depraved emotions.

What, then, is the difference between good and evil demons? The Platonist Apuleius wrote a treatise on this whole subject. He says much about their bodies made of air. But he says nothing about the spiritual virtues they would need to possess if they were good. He says nothing about what could make them happy. Instead, he gives proof of their misery. He admits that their minds give them their status as rational beings. Yet these minds are not filled with virtue or strengthened to resist all unreasonable passions. Instead, they are somehow stirred by stormy emotions, just like the minds of foolish people. His own words are: "The poets refer to this class of demons when they imagine, without serious error, that the gods hate and love certain individuals. They help some people prosper and gain honor, while opposing and troubling others. Demons therefore experience pity, anger, grief, joy, and every human emotion. They experience the same mental disturbance and the same flood of feelings and thoughts. These troubles and storms drive them far from the tranquillity of the heavenly gods." Can there be any doubt about what he means? It is not some lesser part of their spiritual nature that he describes as tossed by passion like a stormy sea. It is their very minds, which give demons their status as rational beings. They cannot even be compared to wise people. In this life, wise people are exposed to these disturbances, as human weakness always leaves us vulnerable to them. Yet they resist them with calm minds. They do not give in and approve or commit any act that might lead them away from wisdom and the law of right conduct. In character, though not in bodily appearance, demons resemble wicked and foolish people. Indeed, I could say they are worse. They have grown old in wrongdoing, and punishment cannot correct them. As Apuleius says, their minds are like a sea tossed by storms. They have no foothold of truth or virtue in their souls from which to resist their turbulent and depraved emotions.

De Deo Socratis.

4. The opinion of the Peripatetics and Stoics about mental emotions.

4. What the Peripatetics and Stoics thought about emotions.

Among the philosophers there are two opinions about these mental emotions, which the Greeks call πάθη, while some of our own writers, as Cicero, call them perturbations, some affections, and some, to render the Greek word more accurately, passions. Some say that even the wise man is subject to these perturbations, though moderated and controlled by reason, which imposes laws upon them, and so restrains them within necessary bounds. This is the opinion of the Platonists and Aristotelians; for Aristotle was Plato's disciple, and the founder of the Peripatetic school. But others, as the Stoics, are of opinion that the wise man is not subject to these perturbations. But Cicero, in his book De Finibus, shows that the Stoics are here at variance with the Platonists and Peripatetics rather in words than in reality; for the Stoics decline to apply the term "goods" to external and bodily advantages, because they reckon that the only good is virtue, the art of living well, and this exists only in the mind. The other philosophers, again, use the simple and customary phraseology, and do not scruple to call these things goods, though in comparison of virtue, which guides our life, they are little and of small esteem. And thus it is obvious that, whether these outward things are called goods or advantages, they are held in the same estimation by both parties, and that in this matter the Stoics are pleasing themselves merely with a novel phraseology. It seems, then, to me that in this question, whether the wise man is subject to mental passions, or wholly free from them, the controversy is one of words rather than of things; for I think that, if the reality and not the mere sound of the words is considered, the Stoics hold precisely the same opinion as the Platonists and Peripatetics. For, omitting for brevity's sake other proofs which I might adduce in support of this opinion, I will state but one which I consider conclusive. Aulus Gellius, a man of extensive erudition, and gifted with an eloquent and graceful style, relates, in his work entitled Noctes Atticæ, that he once made a voyage with an eminent Stoic philosopher; and he goes on to relate fully and with gusto what I shall barely state, that when the ship was tossed and in danger from a violent storm, the philosopher grew pale with terror. This was noticed by those on board, who, though themselves threatened with death, were curious to see whether a philosopher would be agitated like other men. When the tempest had passed over, and as soon as their security gave them freedom to resume their talk, one of the passengers, a rich and luxurious Asiatic, begins to banter the philosopher, and rally him because he had even become pale with fear, while he himself had been unmoved by the impending destruction. But the philosopher availed himself of the reply of Aristippus the Socratic, who, on finding himself similarly bantered by a man of the same character, answered, "You had no cause for anxiety for the soul of a profligate debauchee, but I had reason to be alarmed for the soul of Aristippus." The rich man being thus disposed of, Aulus Gellius asked the philosopher, in the interests of science and not to annoy him, what was the reason of his fear? And he, willing to instruct a man so zealous in the pursuit of knowledge, at once took from his wallet a book of Epictetus the Stoic, in which doctrines were advanced which precisely harmonized with those of Zeno and Chrysippus, the founders of the Stoical school. Aulus Gellius says that he read in this book that the Stoics maintain that there are certain impressions made on the soul by external objects which they call phantasiæ, and that it is not in the power of the soul to determine whether or when it shall be invaded by these. When these impressions are made by alarming and formidable objects, it must needs be that they move the soul even of the wise man, so that for a little he trembles with fear, or is depressed by sadness, these impressions anticipating the work of reason and self-control; but this does not imply that the mind accepts these evil impressions, or approves or consents to them. For this consent is, they think, in a man's power; there being this difference between the mind of the wise man and that of the fool, that the fool's mind yields to these passions and consents to them, while that of the wise man, though it cannot help being invaded by them, yet retains with unshaken firmness a true and steady persuasion of those things which it ought rationally to desire or avoid. This account of what Aulus Gellius relates that he read in the book of Epictetus about the sentiments and doctrines of the Stoics I have given as well as I could, not, perhaps, with his choice language, but with greater brevity, and, I think, with greater clearness. And if this be true, then there is no difference, or next to none, between the opinion of the Stoics and that of the other philosophers regarding mental passions and perturbations, for both parties agree in maintaining that the mind and reason of the wise man are not subject to these. And perhaps what the Stoics mean by asserting this, is that the wisdom which characterizes the wise man is clouded by no error and sullied by no taint, but, with this reservation that his wisdom remains undisturbed, he is exposed to the impressions which the goods and ills of this life (or, as they prefer to call them, the advantages or disadvantages) make upon them. For we need not say that if that philosopher had thought nothing of those things which he thought he was forthwith to lose, life and bodily safety, he would not have been so terrified by his danger as to betray his fear by the pallor of his cheek. Nevertheless, he might suffer this mental disturbance, and yet maintain the fixed persuasion that life and bodily safety, which the violence of the tempest threatened to destroy, are not those good things which make their possessors good, as the possession of righteousness does. But in so far as they persist that we must call them not goods but advantages, they quarrel about words and neglect things. For what difference does it make whether goods or advantages be the better name, while the Stoic no less than the Peripatetic is alarmed at the prospect of losing them, and while, though they name them differently, they hold them in like esteem? Both parties assure us that, if urged to the commission of some immorality or crime by the threatened loss of these goods or advantages, they would prefer to lose such things as preserve bodily comfort and security rather than commit such things as violate righteousness. And thus the mind in which this resolution is well grounded suffers no perturbations to prevail with it in opposition to reason, even though they assail the weaker parts of the soul; and not only so, but it rules over them, and, while it refuses its consent and resists them, administers a reign of virtue. Such a character is ascribed to Æneas by Virgil when he says,

Philosophers hold two opinions about mental emotions. The Greeks call them πάθη. Some of our own writers, such as Cicero, call them disturbances, while others call them feelings. Still others call them passions, a more accurate translation of the Greek. Some say that even a wise person experiences these disturbances. But reason moderates and controls them, setting rules that keep them within necessary limits. This is the view of the Platonists and Aristotelians. Aristotle was Plato’s student and founded the Peripatetic school. Others, such as the Stoics, believe that a wise person does not experience these disturbances. But Cicero, in his book De Finibus, shows that the Stoics disagree with the Platonists and Peripatetics more in words than in substance. The Stoics refuse to call external and bodily advantages “goods.” They believe that virtue, the art of living well, is the only good, and that it exists only in the mind. The other philosophers use ordinary, familiar language and do not hesitate to call these things goods. Yet they consider them small and of little value compared with virtue, which guides our lives. Clearly, then, both sides value these outward things equally, whether they call them goods or advantages. In this matter, the Stoics are merely pleasing themselves with new terminology. It seems to me, then, that the dispute about whether a wise person experiences mental passions or is entirely free from them is also about words rather than facts. If we consider the substance rather than merely the sound of the words, I think the Stoics hold exactly the same view as the Platonists and Peripatetics. For the sake of brevity, I will leave out other evidence I could offer and give just one example, which I consider conclusive. Aulus Gellius was a man of extensive learning, with an eloquent and graceful style. In his work Noctes Atticæ, he tells of a voyage he once made with a distinguished Stoic philosopher. He relates the story fully and with relish, but I will only summarize it. A violent storm tossed the ship and put it in danger, and the philosopher turned pale with terror. Those on board noticed this. Though they themselves faced death, they were curious to see whether a philosopher would be shaken like other people. When the storm had passed, they were safe and free to talk again. One passenger, a wealthy Asiatic who lived in luxury, began to tease the philosopher. He mocked him for turning pale with fear, while he himself had remained calm in the face of impending destruction. But the philosopher used the reply of Aristippus, a follower of Socrates. When a man of the same character had mocked Aristippus in similar circumstances, he had answered, “You had no cause to worry about the soul of a depraved pleasure-seeker, but I had reason to fear for the soul of Aristippus.” After the rich man had been dealt with, Aulus Gellius asked the philosopher why he had been afraid. He asked in the interest of knowledge, not to annoy him. The philosopher was willing to instruct someone so eager to learn. He immediately took from his bag a book by Epictetus the Stoic. Its teachings were in complete agreement with those of Zeno and Chrysippus, the founders of the Stoic school. Aulus Gellius says that in this book he read about the Stoic view of impressions. External objects make certain impressions on the soul, which the Stoics call phantasiæ. The soul has no power to decide whether or when these impressions will come upon it. When they come from alarming and frightening objects, they must affect even the soul of a wise person. For a little while, he may tremble with fear or be weighed down by sadness. These impressions arise before reason and self-control can act. But this does not mean that his mind accepts, approves, or consents to these troubling impressions. The Stoics believe that a person has the power to give or withhold this consent. This is the difference between the mind of a wise person and that of a fool. The fool’s mind yields and consents to these passions. The wise person cannot prevent them from entering his mind, but he remains firm in his true and steady judgment about what he should reasonably desire or avoid. I have given this account of what Aulus Gellius says he read in Epictetus about Stoic views and teachings as well as I could. I may not have used his choice language, but I have been briefer and, I think, clearer. If the account is true, there is little or no difference between the Stoics and the other philosophers about mental passions and disturbances. Both sides agree that the mind and reason of a wise person are not subject to them. Perhaps the Stoics mean that the wisdom of a wise person is clouded by no error and stained by no fault. Yet, while his wisdom remains undisturbed, he is still exposed to impressions made by the goods and evils of this life. The Stoics prefer to call these advantages and disadvantages. Clearly, if that philosopher had placed no value on the life and bodily safety he expected to lose at once, he would not have been so terrified by the danger that he turned pale. Even so, he might have suffered this mental disturbance while remaining firmly convinced of something else. Life and bodily safety, which the violent storm threatened to destroy, are not goods that make their possessors good, as righteousness does. But when the Stoics insist that we must call these things advantages rather than goods, they argue about words and neglect the facts. What does it matter which is the better name? The Stoic is just as alarmed as the Peripatetic at the prospect of losing them. Though they use different names, they value the things equally. Both sides assure us that, if threatened with the loss of these goods or advantages to make them commit an immoral act or a crime, they would rather lose what preserves bodily comfort and safety than do anything that violates righteousness. When this resolve is firmly rooted in the mind, it allows no disturbances to prevail against reason, even when they assail the weaker parts of the soul. More than that, it rules over them. It refuses to consent to them, resists them, and governs through virtue. Virgil gives Æneas such a character when he says,

De Fin. iii. 20; Tusc. Disp. iii. 4.

Seneca explains the distinction between bona and commoda (Ep. 87, ad fin.): "Commodum est quod plus usus est quam molestiæ; bonum sincerum debet esse et ab omni parte innoxium." An advantage brings more benefit than trouble. A good must be pure and harmless in every respect.

Book xix, chapter 1.

See Diog. Laert. ii. 71.

"He stands immovable by tears, Nor tenderest words with pity hears."

"Tears do not move him, Nor does he pity even the gentlest words."

Virgil, Æneid, iv. 449.

5. That the passions which assail the souls of Christians do not seduce them to vice, but exercise their virtue.

5. The passions that trouble Christians do not lead them into vice, but put their virtue to work.

We need not at present give a careful and copious exposition of the doctrine of Scripture, the sum of Christian knowledge, regarding these passions. It subjects the mind itself to God, that He may rule and aid it, and the passions, again, to the mind, to moderate and bridle them, and turn them to righteous uses. In our ethics, we do not so much inquire whether a pious soul is angry, as why he is angry; not whether he is sad, but what is the cause of his sadness; not whether he fears, but what he fears. For I am not aware that any right thinking person would find fault with anger at a wrongdoer which seeks his amendment, or with sadness which intends relief to the suffering, or with fear lest one in danger be destroyed. The Stoics, indeed, are accustomed to condemn compassion. But how much more honourable had it been in that Stoic we have been telling of, had he been disturbed by compassion prompting him to relieve a fellow-creature, than to be disturbed by the fear of shipwreck! Far better, and more humane, and more consonant with pious sentiments, are the words of Cicero in praise of Cæsar, when he says, "Among your virtues none is more admirable and agreeable than your compassion." And what is compassion but a fellow-feeling for another's misery, which prompts us to help him if we can? And this emotion is obedient to reason, when compassion is shown without violating right, as when the poor are relieved, or the penitent forgiven. Cicero, who knew how to use language, did not hesitate to call this a virtue, which the Stoics are not ashamed to reckon among the vices, although, as the book of that eminent Stoic, Epictetus, quoting the opinions of Zeno and Chrysippus, the founders of the school, has taught us, they admit that passions of this kind invade the soul of the wise man, whom they would have to be free from all vice. Whence it follows that these very passions are not judged by them to be vices, since they assail the wise man without forcing him to act against reason and virtue; and that, therefore, the opinion of the Peripatetics or Platonists and of the Stoics is one and the same. But, as Cicero says, mere logomachy is the bane of these pitiful Greeks, who thirst for contention rather than for truth. However, it may justly be asked, whether our subjection to these affections, even while we follow virtue, is a part of the infirmity of this life? For the holy angels feel no anger while they punish those whom the eternal law of God consigns to punishment, no fellow-feeling with misery while they relieve the miserable, no fear while they aid those who are in danger; and yet ordinary language ascribes to them also these mental emotions, because, though they have none of our weakness, their acts resemble the actions to which these emotions move us; and thus even God Himself is said in Scripture to be angry, and yet without any perturbation. For this word is used of the effect of His vengeance, not of the disturbing mental affection.

We do not need to give a detailed, extensive explanation here of what Scripture teaches about these passions. That teaching is the foundation of Christian knowledge. It places the mind under God, so that he may rule and help it. It also places the passions under the mind, so that the mind may restrain them and turn them to righteous purposes. In our ethics, we ask not so much whether a godly person is angry, but why. We ask not whether he is sad, but what causes his sadness. We ask not whether he fears, but what he fears. No sensible person, as far as I know, would condemn anger at a wrongdoer when it seeks to correct him. Nor would anyone condemn sadness that aims to relieve suffering, or fear that someone in danger may be destroyed. The Stoics, in fact, usually condemn compassion. But consider the Stoic we have been discussing. How much more honorable it would have been for him to be moved by compassion to help a fellow human being, rather than disturbed by fear of shipwreck! Cicero’s words in praise of Caesar are far better, more humane, and more in keeping with godly feelings. He says, "Among your virtues none is more admirable and agreeable than your compassion." What is compassion but a feeling of sympathy for another’s misery that moves us to help if we can? This emotion obeys reason when compassion is shown without violating what is right. This happens when the poor are helped or the repentant are forgiven. Cicero, who knew how to use language, did not hesitate to call compassion a virtue. Yet the Stoics are not ashamed to count it among the vices. Nevertheless, the eminent Stoic Epictetus tells us something in his book. Quoting Zeno and Chrysippus, the founders of the school, he shows that they admit such passions enter the wise person’s soul. Yet they maintain that the wise person is free from all vice. It follows that they do not regard these passions themselves as vices. They affect the wise person without forcing him to act against reason and virtue. The Peripatetics and Platonists therefore agree with the Stoics on this point. But as Cicero says, mere disputes over words are the curse of these pitiful Greeks, who thirst for argument rather than truth. Still, we may reasonably ask whether being subject to these feelings is part of the weakness of this life, even when we follow virtue. The holy angels feel no anger when they punish those whom God’s eternal law condemns to punishment. They feel no sympathy with misery when they relieve the miserable. They feel no fear when they help those in danger. Yet ordinary language attributes these emotions to them. Though they have none of our weakness, their actions resemble those to which these emotions move us. In the same way, Scripture even says that God himself is angry, though he feels no disturbance. The word describes the effect of his vengeance, not a disturbing emotion in his mind.

Seneca, De Clem. ii. 4 and 5.

Pro. Lig. c. 12.

De Oratore, i. 11, 47.

6. Of the passions which, according to Apuleius, agitate the demons who are supposed by him to mediate between gods and men.

6. On the passions that, according to Apuleius, disturb the demons he believes act as intermediaries between gods and humans.

Deferring for the present the question about the holy angels, let us examine the opinion of the Platonists, that the demons who mediate between gods and men are agitated by passions. For if their mind, though exposed to their incursion, still remained free and superior to them, Apuleius could not have said that their hearts are tossed with passions as the sea by stormy winds. Their mind, then,—that superior part of their soul whereby they are rational beings, and which, if it actually exists in them, should rule and bridle the turbulent passions of the inferior parts of the soul,—this mind of theirs, I say, is, according to the Platonist referred to, tossed with a hurricane of passions. The mind of the demons, therefore, is subject to the emotions of fear, anger, lust, and all similar affections. What part of them, then, is free, and endued with wisdom, so that they are pleasing to the gods, and the fit guides of men into purity of life, since their very highest part, being the slave of passion and subject to vice, only makes them more intent on deceiving and seducing, in proportion to the mental force and energy of desire they possess?

Let us set aside the question of the holy angels for now. Instead, let us examine the Platonists’ view that demons, who act as intermediaries between gods and humans, are troubled by passions. Perhaps their minds are exposed to these passions but remain free and above them. If so, Apuleius could not have said that their hearts are tossed by passions like the sea by stormy winds. Their minds are the higher part of their souls, which makes them rational beings. If they have minds, those minds should rule and restrain the turbulent passions of the lower parts of their souls. Yet according to Apuleius, their minds are tossed by a hurricane of passions. The minds of demons, then, are subject to fear, anger, lust, and all similar emotions. What part of them, then, is free and wise? How can they please the gods and guide humans toward purity of life? Even their highest part is enslaved by passion and subject to vice. The greater their mental power and the energy of their desires, the more intent they are on deceiving and seducing.

De Deo Soc.

7. That the Platonists maintain that the poets wrong the gods by representing them as distracted by party feeling, to which the demons, and not the gods, are subject.
7. The Platonists say that poets wrong the gods by portraying them as divided by rivalry. Demons, not gods, are subject to such feelings.

But if any one says that it is not of all the demons, but only of the wicked, that the poets, not without truth, say that they violently love or hate certain men,—for it was of them Apuleius said that they were driven about by strong currents of emotion,—how can we accept this interpretation, when Apuleius, in the very same connection, represents all the demons, and not only the wicked, as intermediate between gods and men by their aerial bodies? The fiction of the poets, according to him, consists in their making gods of demons, and giving them the names of gods, and assigning them as allies or enemies to individual men, using this poetical licence, though they profess that the gods are very different in character from the demons, and far exalted above them by their celestial abode and wealth of beatitude. This, I say, is the poets' fiction, to say that these are gods who are not gods, and that, under the names of gods, they fight among themselves about the men whom they love or hate with keen partisan feeling. Apuleius says that this is not far from the truth, since, though they are wrongfully called by the names of the gods, they are described in their own proper character as demons. To this category, he says, belongs the Minerva of Homer, "who interposed in the ranks of the Greeks to restrain Achilles." For that this was Minerva he supposes to be poetical fiction; for he thinks that Minerva is a goddess, and he places her among the gods whom he believes to be all good and blessed in the sublime ethereal region, remote from intercourse with men. But that there was a demon favourable to the Greeks and adverse to the Trojans, as another, whom the same poet mentions under the name of Venus or Mars (gods exalted above earthly affairs in their heavenly habitations), was the Trojans' ally and the foe of the Greeks, and that these demons fought for those they loved against those they hated,—in all this he owned that the poets stated something very like the truth. For they made these statements about beings to whom he ascribes the same violent and tempestuous passions as disturb men, and who are therefore capable of loves and hatreds not justly formed, but formed in a party spirit, as the spectators in races or hunts take fancies and prejudices. It seems to have been the great fear of this Platonist that the poetical fictions should be believed of the gods, and not of the demons who bore their names.

Someone might say that the poets speak truthfully when they describe demons as violently loving or hating certain people. But, they might argue, this applies only to wicked demons, not to all demons. Apuleius said that wicked demons were driven by powerful currents of emotion. But how can we accept this interpretation? In the same passage, Apuleius says that all demons, not just the wicked, occupy a middle position between gods and humans because they have bodies made of air. According to him, the poets’ fiction is that they turn demons into gods. They give them gods’ names and portray them as allies or enemies of individual people. The poets take this liberty even though they claim that gods are very different from demons. They say the gods are far above demons because they dwell in heaven and enjoy abundant happiness. This, then, is the poets’ fiction. They call beings gods who are not gods. Under the names of gods, these beings fight among themselves over people they love or hate with fierce partisanship. Apuleius says that this is not far from the truth. Although the poets wrongly give them gods’ names, they describe them according to their true character as demons. He says that Homer’s Minerva belongs in this category. She is the one "who interposed in the ranks of the Greeks to restrain Achilles." Apuleius considers it a poetic fiction that this was Minerva. He believes that Minerva is a goddess. He places her among the gods, whom he believes are all good and blessed. They dwell in the lofty ethereal realm, far removed from contact with humans. But he accepts that a demon favored the Greeks and opposed the Trojans. Another demon was the Trojans’ ally and the Greeks’ enemy. The same poet mentions this other demon under the name of Venus or Mars. These gods dwell in heaven, above earthly affairs. Apuleius also accepts that these demons fought for those they loved against those they hated. In all this, he admitted, the poets said something very close to the truth. For they made these claims about beings to whom he attributes the same violent, stormy passions that trouble humans. These beings are therefore capable of loves and hatreds formed not by justice but by partisanship. They are like spectators at races or hunts, who take sides and develop prejudices. This Platonist seems to have feared above all that people would believe these poetic fictions about the gods, rather than about the demons who bore their names.

De Deo Soc.

8. How Apuleius defines the gods who dwell in heaven, the demons who occupy the air, and men who inhabit earth.

8. How Apuleius defines the gods who live in heaven, the demons who live in the air, and humans who live on earth.

The definition which Apuleius gives of demons, and in which he of course includes all demons, is that they are in nature animals, in soul subject to passion, in mind reasonable, in body aerial, in duration eternal. Now in these five qualities he has named absolutely nothing which is proper to good men and not also to bad. For when Apuleius had spoken of the celestials first, and had then extended his description so as to include an account of those who dwell far below on the earth, that, after describing the two extremes of rational being, he might proceed to speak of the intermediate demons, he says, "Men, therefore, who are endowed with the faculty of reason and speech, whose soul is immortal and their members mortal, who have weak and anxious spirits, dull and corruptible bodies, dissimilar characters, similar ignorance, who are obstinate in their audacity, and persistent in their hope, whose labour is vain, and whose fortune is ever on the wane, their race immortal, themselves perishing, each generation replenished with creatures whose life is swift and their wisdom slow, their death sudden and their life a wail,—these are the men who dwell on the earth." In recounting so many qualities which belong to the large proportion of men, did he forget that which is the property of the few when he speaks of their wisdom being slow? If this had been omitted, this his description of the human race, so carefully elaborated, would have been defective. And when he commended the excellence of the gods, he affirmed that they excelled in that very blessedness to which he thinks men must attain by wisdom. And therefore, if he had wished us to believe that some of the demons are good, he should have inserted in his description something by which we might see that they have, in common with the gods, some share of blessedness, or, in common with men, some wisdom. But, as it is, he has mentioned no good quality by which the good may be distinguished from the bad. For although he refrained from giving a full account of their wickedness, through fear of offending, not themselves but their worshippers, for whom he was writing, yet he sufficiently indicated to discerning readers what opinion he had of them; for only in the one article of the eternity of their bodies does he assimilate them to the gods, all of whom, he asserts, are good and blessed, and absolutely free from what he himself calls the stormy passions of the demons; and as to the soul, he quite plainly affirms that they resemble men and not the gods, and that this resemblance lies not in the possession of wisdom, which even men can attain to, but in the perturbation of passions which sway the foolish and wicked, but is so ruled by the good and wise that they prefer not to admit rather than to conquer it. For if he had wished it to be understood that the demons resembled the gods in the eternity not of their bodies but of their souls, he would certainly have admitted men to share in this privilege, because, as a Platonist, he of course must hold that the human soul is eternal. Accordingly, when describing this race of living beings, he said that their souls were immortal, their members mortal. And, consequently, if men have not eternity in common with the gods because they have mortal bodies, demons have eternity in common with the gods because their bodies are immortal.

Apuleius defines demons in a way that includes all of them. He says they are animals by nature, subject to passions in soul, rational in mind, airy in body, and eternal in duration. Yet none of these five qualities belongs only to good people and not also to bad people. Apuleius first spoke of heavenly beings. He then extended his account to those who dwell far below on earth. After describing these two extremes of rational beings, he intended to discuss demons, who stand between them. He says, "People, then, have the power of reason and speech. Their souls are immortal, but their bodies are mortal. Their spirits are weak and anxious, and their bodies are dull and subject to decay. Their characters differ, but their ignorance is alike. They are stubborn in their boldness and persistent in their hope. Their labor is futile, and their fortunes are always declining. Their race is immortal, though they themselves perish. Each generation is replenished with beings whose lives are swift and whose wisdom comes slowly. Their deaths are sudden, and their lives are filled with sorrow. These are the people who dwell on earth." In listing so many qualities that belong to most people, did he forget what belongs to the few? He did not, for he says that their wisdom comes slowly. Without this detail, his carefully crafted description of the human race would have been incomplete. And when he praised the excellence of the gods, he said they excelled in blessedness. This is the very blessedness he thinks people must reach through wisdom. So, if he wanted us to believe that some demons are good, he should have included something to show it. He might have shown that they share some blessedness with the gods, or some wisdom with human beings. But he mentions no good quality that distinguishes good demons from bad ones. He avoided giving a full account of their wickedness for fear of offending their worshippers, not the demons themselves. He was writing for those worshippers. Yet he made his opinion of the demons clear enough to discerning readers. He compares them to the gods only in the eternity of their bodies. He says all the gods are good and blessed and entirely free from what he calls the stormy passions of demons. As for the soul, he plainly says that demons resemble human beings, not gods. They do not resemble people in possessing wisdom, which even humans can attain. Rather, they resemble them in the disturbance of passions that controls the foolish and wicked. The good and wise keep these passions under such control that they prefer not to admit them rather than conquer them. If Apuleius had meant that demons resembled the gods in the eternity of their souls rather than their bodies, he would surely have included human beings in this privilege. As a Platonist, he must of course hold that the human soul is eternal. Accordingly, in describing the human race, he said that their souls were immortal and their bodies mortal. Therefore, if people do not share eternity with the gods because their bodies are mortal, demons do share eternity with the gods because their bodies are immortal.

De Deo Soc.

9. Whether the intercession of the demons can secure for men the friendship of the celestial gods.

9. Whether demons can gain the friendship of the heavenly gods for people by interceding for them.

How, then, can men hope for a favourable introduction to the friendship of the gods by such mediators as these, who are, like men, defective in that which is the better part of every living creature, viz. the soul, and who resemble the gods only in the body, which is the inferior part? For a living creature or animal consists of soul and body, and of these two parts the soul is undoubtedly the better; even though vicious and weak, it is obviously better than even the soundest and strongest body, for the greater excellence of its nature is not reduced to the level of the body even by the pollution of vice, as gold, even when tarnished, is more precious than the purest silver or lead. And yet these mediators, by whose interposition things human and divine are to be harmonized, have an eternal body in common with the gods, and a vicious soul in common with men,—as if the religion by which these demons are to unite gods and men were a bodily, and not a spiritual matter. What wickedness, then, or punishment has suspended these false and deceitful mediators, as it were head downwards, so that their inferior part, their body, is linked to the gods above, and their superior part, the soul, bound to men beneath; united to the celestial gods by the part that serves, and miserable, together with the inhabitants of earth, by the part that rules? For the body is the servant, as Sallust says: "We use the soul to rule, the body to obey;" adding, "the one we have in common with the gods, the other with the brutes." For he was here speaking of men; and they have, like the brutes, a mortal body. These demons, whom our philosophic friends have provided for us as mediators with the gods, may indeed say of the soul and body, the one we have in common with the gods, the other with men; but, as I said, they are as it were suspended and bound head downwards, having the slave, the body, in common with the gods, the master, the soul, in common with miserable men,—their inferior part exalted, their superior part depressed. And therefore, if any one supposes that, because they are not subject, like terrestrial animals, to the separation of soul and body by death, they therefore resemble the gods in their eternity, their body must not be considered a chariot of an eternal triumph, but rather the chain of an eternal punishment.

How, then, can people hope to gain the gods’ friendship through such mediators? Like humans, these beings are defective in the soul, the better part of every living creature. They resemble the gods only in the body, the inferior part. Every living creature, or animal, consists of soul and body, and the soul is undoubtedly the better of the two. Even a corrupt and weak soul is clearly better than the healthiest and strongest body. Vice may stain the soul, but it cannot reduce its superior nature to the level of the body. Even tarnished gold is more precious than the purest silver or lead. Yet these mediators are supposed to bring human and divine affairs into harmony. They share an eternal body with the gods and a corrupt soul with humans. This makes it seem as though the religion by which demons unite gods and humans were bodily rather than spiritual. What wickedness or punishment has left these false and deceitful mediators hanging, as it were, upside down? Their inferior part, the body, is linked to the gods above. Their superior part, the soul, is bound to humans below. Through the part that serves, they are united with the heavenly gods. Through the part that rules, they are miserable along with the inhabitants of earth. For the body is the servant, as Sallust says: "We use the soul to rule, the body to obey;" He adds, "the one we have in common with the gods, the other with the brutes." He was speaking of humans, who, like the brutes, have a mortal body. These demons, whom our philosopher friends have given us as mediators with the gods, could say the opposite. Of the soul and body, they share the one with humans and the other with the gods. But, as I said, they are, as it were, suspended and bound upside down. They share the body, the servant, with the gods, and the soul, the master, with miserable humans. Their inferior part is raised up, and their superior part is brought low. Some may think that these demons resemble the gods in their eternity. Unlike earthly animals, they do not undergo the separation of soul and body at death. But their body should not be considered the chariot of an eternal triumph. It is instead the chain of an eternal punishment.

Cat. Conj. i.

10. That, according to Plotinus, men, whose body is mortal, are less wretched than demons, whose body is eternal.

10. According to Plotinus, humans, whose bodies are mortal, are less miserable than demons, whose bodies are eternal.

Plotinus, whose memory is quite recent, enjoys the reputation of having understood Plato better than any other of his disciples. In speaking of human souls, he says, "The Father in compassion made their bonds mortal;" that is to say, he considered it due to the Father's mercy that men, having a mortal body, should not be for ever confined in the misery of this life. But of this mercy the demons have been judged unworthy, and they have received, in conjunction with a soul subject to passions, a body not mortal like man's, but eternal. For they should have been happier than men if they had, like men, had a mortal body, and, like the gods, a blessed soul. And they should have been equal to men, if in conjunction with a miserable soul they had at least received, like men, a mortal body, so that death might have freed them from trouble, if, at least, they should have attained some degree of piety. But, as it is, they are not only no happier than men, having, like them, a miserable soul, they are also more wretched, being eternally bound to the body; for he does not leave us to infer that by some progress in wisdom and piety they can become gods, but expressly says that they are demons for ever.

Plotinus, who lived fairly recently, is regarded as the disciple who understood Plato best. Speaking of human souls, he says, "The Father in compassion made their bonds mortal;" He meant that the Father mercifully gave humans mortal bodies, so they would not remain trapped in this life’s misery forever. But demons have been judged unworthy of this mercy. They have souls subject to passions, like human souls, but their bodies are eternal, not mortal. Demons would have been happier than humans if they had mortal bodies like humans and blessed souls like the gods. They would have been equal to humans if, despite their miserable souls, they had at least received mortal bodies. Then death might have freed them from trouble, provided they had attained some degree of piety. But as things stand, they are no happier than humans, because their souls are miserable too. They are even more wretched because they are bound to their bodies forever. Plotinus does not leave us to infer that they can become gods by growing in wisdom and piety. He says plainly that they are demons forever.

Plotinus died in 270 a.d. For his connection to Plato, see Augustine's Contra Acad. iii. 41.

Ennead. iv. 3. 12.

11. Of the opinion of the Platonists, that the souls of men become demons when disembodied.

11. On the Platonists' belief that human souls become demons when they leave their bodies.

He says, indeed, that the souls of men are demons, and that men become Lares if they are good, Lemures or Larvæ if they are bad, and Manes if it is uncertain whether they deserve well or ill. Who does not see at a glance that this is a mere whirlpool sucking men to moral destruction? For, however wicked men have been, if they suppose they shall become Larvæ or divine Manes, they will become the worse the more love they have for inflicting injury; for, as the Larvæ are hurtful demons made out of wicked men, these men must suppose that after death they will be invoked with sacrifices and divine honours that they may inflict injuries. But this question we must not pursue. He also states that the blessed are called in Greek εὐδαίμονες, because they are good souls, that is to say, good demons, confirming his opinion that the souls of men are demons.

He says that human souls are demons. Good people become Lares, he says, while bad people become Lemures or Larvæ. They become Manes if it is uncertain whether they deserve a good or bad fate. Who cannot see at once that this belief is a whirlpool dragging people toward moral destruction? However wicked people have been, they may believe they will become Larvæ or divine Manes. If so, the more they love to harm others, the worse they will become. For Larvæ are harmful demons made from wicked people. These people must therefore suppose that after death they will receive sacrifices and divine honors. People will call on them so that they may do harm. But we must not pursue this question further. He also says that the blessed are called εὐδαίμονες in Greek because they are good souls, that is, good demons. This confirms his view that human souls are demons.

Apuleius, not Plotinus.

12. Of the three opposite qualities by which the Platonists distinguish between the nature of men and that of demons.

12. The three contrasting qualities by which the Platonists distinguish human nature from the nature of demons.

But at present we are speaking of those beings whom he described as being properly intermediate between gods and men, in nature animals, in mind rational, in soul subject to passion, in body aerial, in duration eternal. When he had distinguished the gods, whom he placed in the highest heaven, from men, whom he placed on earth, not only by position but also by the unequal dignity of their natures, he concluded in these words: "You have here two kinds of animals: the gods, widely distinguished from men by sublimity of abode, perpetuity of life, perfection of nature; for their habitations are separated by so wide an interval that there can be no intimate communication between them, and while the vitality of the one is eternal and indefeasible, that of the others is fading and precarious, and while the spirits of the gods are exalted in bliss, those of men are sunk in miseries." Here I find three opposite qualities ascribed to the extremes of being, the highest and lowest. For, after mentioning the three qualities for which we are to admire the gods, he repeated, though in other words, the same three as a foil to the defects of man. The three qualities are, "sublimity of abode, perpetuity of life, perfection of nature." These he again mentioned so as to bring out their contrasts in man's condition. As he had mentioned "sublimity of abode," he says, "Their habitations are separated by so wide an interval;" as he had mentioned "perpetuity of life," he says, that "while divine life is eternal and indefeasible, human life is fading and precarious;" and as he had mentioned "perfection of nature," he says, that "while the spirits of the gods are exalted in bliss, those of men are sunk in miseries." These three things, then, he predicates of the gods, exaltation, eternity, blessedness; and of man he predicates the opposite, lowliness of habitation, mortality, misery.

For now, we are speaking of the beings he described as truly intermediate between gods and humans. In nature, they are animals. In mind, they are rational. In soul, they are subject to passions. Their bodies are made of air, and they live forever. He placed the gods in the highest heaven and humans on earth. He distinguished them not only by location but also by the unequal dignity of their natures. He concluded with these words: "Here you have two kinds of animals. The gods are far above humans in the height of their dwelling, the permanence of their lives, and the perfection of their nature. Their homes are so far apart that they cannot communicate closely. The life of the gods is eternal and cannot be taken away. Human life fades and is uncertain. The spirits of the gods are lifted up in happiness, while those of humans are sunk in misery." Here I find three opposing qualities assigned to the highest and lowest kinds of beings. He first mentions three qualities for which we should admire the gods. Then he repeats the same three in different words, contrasting them with human shortcomings. The three qualities are "the height of their dwelling, the permanence of their lives, and the perfection of their nature." He mentions these again to show how they contrast with the human condition. After mentioning "the height of their dwelling," he says, "Their homes are so far apart." After mentioning "the permanence of their lives," he says, "Divine life is eternal and cannot be taken away, while human life fades and is uncertain." After mentioning "the perfection of their nature," he says, "The spirits of the gods are lifted up in happiness, while those of humans are sunk in misery." He therefore attributes three things to the gods: a high dwelling, eternal life, and happiness. To humans he attributes the opposites: a low dwelling, mortality, and misery.

De Deo Socratis.

13. How the demons can mediate between gods and men if they have nothing in common with both, being neither blessed like the gods, nor miserable like men.
13. How can demons mediate between gods and humans if they share nothing with either? They are neither blessed like the gods nor miserable like humans.

If, now, we endeavour to find between these opposites the mean occupied by the demons, there can be no question as to their local position; for, between the highest and lowest place, there is a place which is rightly considered and called the middle place. The other two qualities remain, and to them we must give greater care, that we may see whether they are altogether foreign to the demons, or how they are so bestowed upon them without infringing upon their mediate position. We may dismiss the idea that they are foreign to them. For we cannot say that the demons, being rational animals, are neither blessed nor wretched, as we say of the beasts and plants, which are void of feeling and reason, or as we say of the middle place, that it is neither the highest nor the lowest. The demons, being rational, must be either miserable or blessed. And, in like manner, we cannot say that they are neither mortal nor immortal; for all living things either live eternally or end life in death. Our author, besides, stated that the demons are eternal. What remains for us to suppose, then, but that these mediate beings are assimilated to the gods in one of the two remaining qualities, and to men in the other? For if they received both from above, or both from beneath, they should no longer be mediate, but either rise to the gods above, or sink to men beneath. Therefore, as it has been demonstrated that they must possess these two qualities, they will hold their middle place if they receive one from each party. Consequently, as they cannot receive their eternity from beneath, because it is not there to receive, they must get it from above; and accordingly they have no choice but to complete their mediate position by accepting misery from men.

If we try to place the demons between these opposites, there is no question about their location. Between the highest and lowest places, there is a place rightly considered and called the middle. Two other qualities remain. We must examine them more carefully. We need to see whether they are entirely absent from the demons. If not, we must see how the demons possess them without losing their middle position. We can dismiss the idea that these qualities are absent from them. Demons are rational creatures, so we cannot say they are neither blessed nor miserable. We say this of beasts and plants, which lack feeling and reason. We also say that the middle place is neither the highest nor the lowest. But demons are rational, so they must be either miserable or blessed. Likewise, we cannot say that they are neither mortal nor immortal. All living things either live forever or end their lives in death. Our author also stated that demons are eternal. What, then, can we suppose? These intermediate beings must share one of the two remaining qualities with the gods and the other with humans. If they received both from above or both from below, they would no longer be intermediate. They would either rise to the gods above or sink to humans below. We have shown that demons must possess both qualities. They will therefore keep their middle position if they receive one from each side. They cannot receive eternity from below, because it is not there to receive. They must receive it from above. So, to complete their middle position, they have no choice but to accept misery from humans.

According to the Platonists, then, the gods, who occupy the highest place, enjoy eternal blessedness, or blessed eternity; men, who occupy the lowest, a mortal misery, or a miserable mortality; and the demons, who occupy the mean, a miserable eternity, or an eternal misery. As to those five things which Apuleius included in his definition of demons, he did not show, as he promised, that the demons are mediate. For three of them, that their nature is animal, their mind rational, their soul subject to passions, he said that they have in common with men; one thing, their eternity, in common with the gods; and one proper to themselves, their aerial body. How, then, are they intermediate, when they have three things in common with the lowest, and only one in common with the highest? Who does not see that the intermediate position is abandoned in proportion as they tend to, and are depressed towards, the lowest extreme? But perhaps we are to accept them as intermediate because of their one property of an aerial body, as the two extremes have each their proper body, the gods an ethereal, men a terrestrial body, and because two of the qualities they possess in common with man they possess also in common with the gods, namely, their animal nature and rational mind. For Apuleius himself, in speaking of gods and men, said, "You have two animal natures." And Platonists are wont to ascribe a rational mind to the gods. Two qualities remain, their liability to passion, and their eternity,—the first of which they have in common with men, the second with the gods; so that they are neither wafted to the highest nor depressed to the lowest extreme, but perfectly poised in their intermediate position. But then, this is the very circumstance which constitutes the eternal misery, or miserable eternity, of the demons. For he who says that their soul is subject to passions would also have said that they are miserable, had he not blushed for their worshippers. Moreover, as the world is governed, not by fortuitous haphazard, but, as the Platonists themselves avow, by the providence of the supreme God, the misery of the demons would not be eternal unless their wickedness were great.

According to the Platonists, the gods occupy the highest place. They enjoy eternal happiness, or a happy eternity. Humans occupy the lowest place. They suffer mortal misery, or a miserable mortality. Demons occupy the middle place. They suffer a miserable eternity, or eternal misery. Apuleius included five things in his definition of demons. But he did not show, as he promised, that demons occupy a middle position. He said they share three of these qualities with humans. They are living beings, their minds are rational, and their souls are subject to passions. They share one quality, eternity, with the gods. One quality belongs to them alone, their bodies are made of air. How, then, do they occupy a middle position? They share three things with those at the lowest extreme and only one with those at the highest. Surely everyone can see that they leave the middle position as they tend downward toward the lowest extreme. But perhaps we should accept them as occupying the middle because of their unique bodies made of air. Each of the two extremes also has its own kind of body. The gods have bodies made of ether, and humans have earthly bodies. Demons also share two qualities with both humans and gods. They are living beings, and their minds are rational. Apuleius himself said of gods and humans, "You have two animal natures." Platonists also usually attribute rational minds to the gods. Two qualities remain, their susceptibility to passions and their eternity. They share the first with humans and the second with the gods. Thus they are neither lifted to the highest extreme nor pulled down to the lowest. Instead, they are perfectly balanced in their middle position. But this is precisely what makes the demons’ misery eternal, or their eternity miserable. Anyone who says that their souls are subject to passions would also have called them miserable. Apuleius would have done so if he had not been ashamed on behalf of those who worship them. Moreover, the world is not governed by random chance. As the Platonists themselves admit, it is governed by the providence of the supreme God. The demons’ misery would not be eternal unless their wickedness were great.

If, then, the blessed are rightly styled eudemons, the demons intermediate between gods and men are not eudemons. What, then, is the local position of those good demons, who, above men but beneath the gods, afford assistance to the former, minister to the latter? For if they are good and eternal, they are doubtless blessed. But eternal blessedness destroys their intermediate character, giving them a close resemblance to the gods, and widely separating them from men. And therefore the Platonists will in vain strive to show how the good demons, if they are both immortal and blessed, can justly be said to hold a middle place between the gods, who are immortal and blessed, and men, who are mortal and miserable. For if they have both immortality and blessedness in common with the gods, and neither of these in common with men, who are both miserable and mortal, are they not rather remote from men and united with the gods, than intermediate between them? They would be intermediate if they held one of their qualities in common with the one party, and the other with the other, as man is a kind of mean between angels and beasts,—the beast being an irrational and mortal animal, the angel a rational and immortal one, while man, inferior to the angel and superior to the beast, and having in common with the one mortality, and with the other reason, is a rational and mortal animal. So, when we seek for an intermediate between the blessed immortals and miserable mortals, we should find a being which is either mortal and blessed, or immortal and miserable.

If the blessed are rightly called eudemons, then the demons between gods and humans are not eudemons. Where, then, do these good demons stand? They are above humans but below the gods. They help humans and serve the gods. If they are good and eternal, they are surely blessed. But their eternal blessedness means they cannot occupy a middle position. It makes them closely resemble the gods and separates them greatly from humans. So the Platonists will try in vain to show that good demons truly occupy a middle position. If these demons are both immortal and blessed, how can they stand between gods and humans? The gods are immortal and blessed, while humans are mortal and miserable. The demons share both immortality and blessedness with the gods. They share neither with humans, who are both miserable and mortal. Are they not closer to the gods and farther from humans, rather than between them? They would occupy a middle position if they shared one quality with each group. In this way, humans are a kind of middle between angels and beasts. A beast is an irrational and mortal animal. An angel is rational and immortal. Humans are below angels and above beasts. They share mortality with beasts and reason with angels. A human being is therefore a rational and mortal animal. Likewise, a being between blessed immortals and miserable mortals would have to be either mortal and blessed or immortal and miserable.

14. Whether men, though mortal, can enjoy true blessedness.

14. Whether humans, though mortal, can experience true happiness.

It is a great question among men, whether man can be mortal and blessed. Some, taking the humbler view of his condition, have denied that he is capable of blessedness so long as he continues in this mortal life; others, again, have spurned this idea, and have been bold enough to maintain that, even though mortal, men may be blessed by attaining wisdom. But if this be the case, why are not these wise men constituted mediators between miserable mortals and the blessed immortals, since they have blessedness in common with the latter, and mortality in common with the former? Certainly, if they are blessed, they envy no one (for what more miserable than envy?), but seek with all their might to help miserable mortals on to blessedness, so that after death they may become immortal, and be associated with the blessed and immortal angels.

People have long debated whether a person can be both mortal and blessed. Some take a humbler view of the human condition. They deny that anyone can be blessed while living this mortal life. Others reject this idea. They boldly claim that people can be blessed by gaining wisdom, even though they are mortal. But if this is true, why are these wise people not made mediators between miserable mortals and blessed immortals? They share blessedness with the immortals and mortality with the mortals. Surely, if they are blessed, they envy no one. For what could be more miserable than envy? Instead, they do all they can to help miserable mortals become blessed. Then, after death, these mortals may become immortal and join the blessed and immortal angels.

15. Of the man Christ Jesus, the Mediator between God and men.

15. About the man Christ Jesus, the mediator between God and humanity.

But if, as is much more probable and credible, it must needs be that all men, so long as they are mortal, are also miserable, we must seek an intermediate who is not only man, but also God, that, by the interposition of His blessed mortality, He may bring men out of their mortal misery to a blessed immortality. In this intermediate two things are requisite, that He become mortal, and that He do not continue mortal. He did become mortal, not rendering the divinity of the Word infirm, but assuming the infirmity of flesh. Neither did He continue mortal in the flesh, but raised it from the dead; for it is the very fruit of His mediation that those, for the sake of whose redemption He became the Mediator, should not abide eternally in bodily death. Wherefore it became the Mediator between us and God to have both a transient mortality and a permanent blessedness, that by that which is transient He might be assimilated to mortals, and might translate them from mortality to that which is permanent. Good angels, therefore, cannot mediate between miserable mortals and blessed immortals, for they themselves also are both blessed and immortal; but evil angels can mediate, because they are immortal like the one party, miserable like the other. To these is opposed the good Mediator, who, in opposition to their immortality and misery, has chosen to be mortal for a time, and has been able to continue blessed in eternity. It is thus He has destroyed, by the humility of His death and the benignity of His blessedness, those proud immortals and hurtful wretches, and has prevented them from seducing to misery by their boast of immortality those men whose hearts He has cleansed by faith, and whom He has thus freed from their impure dominion.

But it is much more likely and credible that all people are miserable as long as they are mortal. If so, we must seek a mediator who is not only human but also God. Through his blessed mortality, he can bring people from mortal misery to blessed immortality. Two things are required of this mediator. He must become mortal, and he must not remain mortal. He became mortal, not by weakening the divinity of the Word, but by taking on the weakness of flesh. Nor did he remain mortal in the flesh. He raised his flesh from the dead. This is the very fruit of his mediation. Those for whose redemption he became the mediator will not remain forever in bodily death. Therefore, the mediator between us and God needed both a temporary mortality and a lasting blessedness. Through his temporary mortality, he became like mortals. He could then bring them from mortality to lasting blessedness. Good angels cannot mediate between miserable mortals and blessed immortals, because they themselves are both blessed and immortal. But evil angels can mediate, because they are immortal like one party and miserable like the other. The good mediator stands opposed to these evil angels. Against their immortality and misery, he chose to be mortal for a time and was able to remain blessed forever. Through his humble death and the kindness of his blessedness, he destroyed those proud immortals and harmful wretches. He also prevented them from using their boast of immortality to lure people into misery. He has cleansed those people's hearts through faith and freed them from the angels' impure rule.

Man, then, mortal and miserable, and far removed from the immortal and the blessed, what medium shall he choose by which he may be united to immortality and blessedness? The immortality of the demons, which might have some charm for man, is miserable; the mortality of Christ, which might offend man, exists no longer. In the one there is the fear of an eternal misery; in the other, death, which could not be eternal, can no longer be feared, and blessedness, which is eternal, must be loved. For the immortal and miserable mediator interposes himself to prevent us from passing to a blessed immortality, because that which hinders such a passage, namely, misery, continues in him; but the mortal and blessed Mediator interposed Himself, in order that, having passed through mortality, He might of mortals make immortals (showing His power to do this in His own resurrection), and from being miserable to raise them to the blessed company from the number of whom He had Himself never departed. There is, then, a wicked mediator, who separates friends, and a good Mediator, who reconciles enemies. And those who separate are numerous, because the multitude of the blessed are blessed only by their participation in the one God; of which participation the evil angels being deprived, they are wretched, and interpose to hinder rather than to help to this blessedness, and by their very number prevent us from reaching that one beatific good, to obtain which we need not many but one Mediator, the uncreated Word of God, by whom all things were made, and in partaking of whom we are blessed. I do not say that He is Mediator because He is the Word, for as the Word He is supremely blessed and supremely immortal, and therefore far from miserable mortals; but He is Mediator as He is man, for by His humanity He shows us that, in order to obtain that blessed and beatific good, we need not seek other mediators to lead us through the successive steps of this attainment, but that the blessed and beatific God, having Himself become a partaker of our humanity, has afforded us ready access to the participation of His divinity. For in delivering us from our mortality and misery, He does not lead us to the immortal and blessed angels, so that we should become immortal and blessed by participating in their nature, but He leads us straight to that Trinity, by participating in which the angels themselves are blessed. Therefore, when He chose to be in the form of a servant, and lower than the angels, that He might be our Mediator, He remained higher than the angels, in the form of God,—Himself at once the way of life on earth and life itself in heaven.

Human beings are mortal and miserable, far removed from those who are immortal and blessed. What mediator can unite them with immortality and blessedness? The immortality of demons may attract us, but it is miserable. Christ’s mortality may offend us, but it exists no longer. In the demons, we must fear eternal misery. In Christ, death could not last forever and can no longer be feared. His blessedness, which is eternal, must be loved. The immortal and miserable mediator stands in our way and prevents us from reaching blessed immortality. He does this because misery, which blocks that passage, remains in him. But the mortal and blessed Mediator came between us and God for a different purpose. He passed through mortality to make mortals immortal. He showed his power to do this in his own resurrection. He also came to raise them from misery into the company of the blessed. He himself had never left that company. There is, then, a wicked mediator who separates friends, and a good Mediator who reconciles enemies. Those who separate are many. For the many who are blessed are blessed only because they share in the one God. The evil angels are deprived of this sharing and are therefore wretched. They come between us and God to hinder rather than help us reach this blessedness. By their very number, they keep us from reaching that one good which makes us blessed. To obtain it, we need not many mediators but one. He is the uncreated Word of God, through whom all things were made and in whom we share to become blessed. I do not say that he is Mediator because he is the Word. As the Word, he is supremely blessed and supremely immortal, and therefore far removed from miserable mortals. He is Mediator because he is human. Through his humanity, he shows us how to reach that blessed good which makes us blessed. We need not seek other mediators to lead us through successive steps toward it. The blessed God, who makes us blessed, has himself shared in our humanity. In doing so, he has given us ready access to a share in his divinity. When he delivers us from mortality and misery, he does not lead us to the immortal and blessed angels. We do not become immortal and blessed by sharing in their nature. Instead, he leads us straight to the Trinity, in whom the angels themselves share and are blessed. He chose to take the form of a servant and become lower than the angels to be our Mediator. Yet he remained higher than the angels, in the form of God. He himself is both the way of life on earth and life itself in heaven.

16. Whether it is reasonable in the Platonists to determine that the celestial gods decline contact with earthly things and intercourse with men, who therefore require the intercession of the demons.
16. Whether the Platonists are reasonable in holding that the celestial gods avoid contact with earthly things and people, who therefore need demons to intercede for them.

That opinion, which the same Platonist avers that Plato uttered, is not true, "that no god holds intercourse with men." And this, he says, is the chief evidence of their exaltation, that they are never contaminated by contact with men. He admits, therefore, that the demons are contaminated; and it follows that they cannot cleanse those by whom they are themselves contaminated, and thus all alike become impure, the demons by associating with men, and men by worshipping the demons. Or, if they say that the demons are not contaminated by associating and dealing with men, then they are better than the gods, for the gods, were they to do so, would be contaminated. For this, we are told, is the glory of the gods, that they are so highly exalted that no human intercourse can sully them. He affirms, indeed, that the supreme God, the Creator of all things, whom we call the true God, is spoken of by Plato as the only God whom the poverty of human speech fails even passably to describe; and that even the wise, when their mental energy is as far as possible delivered from the trammels of connection with the body, have only such gleams of insight into His nature as may be compared to a flash of lightning illumining the darkness. If, then, this supreme God, who is truly exalted above all things, does nevertheless visit the minds of the wise, when emancipated from the body, with an intelligible and ineffable presence, though this be only occasional, and as it were a swift flash of light athwart the darkness, why are the other gods so sublimely removed from all contact with men, as if they would be polluted by it? as if it were not a sufficient refutation of this to lift up our eyes to those heavenly bodies which give the earth its needful light. If the stars, though they, by his account, are visible gods, are not contaminated when we look at them, neither are the demons contaminated when men see them quite closely. But perhaps it is the human voice, and not the eye, which pollutes the gods; and therefore the demons are appointed to mediate and carry men's utterances to the gods, who keep themselves remote through fear of pollution? What am I to say of the other senses? For by smell neither the demons, who are present, nor the gods, though they were present and inhaling the exhalations of living men, would be polluted if they are not contaminated with the effluvia of the carcases offered in sacrifice. As for taste, they are pressed by no necessity of repairing bodily decay, so as to be reduced to ask food from men. And touch is in their own power. For while it may seem that contact is so called, because the sense of touch is specially concerned in it, yet the gods, if so minded, might mingle with men, so as to see and be seen, hear and be heard; and where is the need of touching? For men would not dare to desire this, if they were favoured with the sight or conversation of gods or good demons; and if through excessive curiosity they should desire it, how could they accomplish their wish without the consent of the god or demon, when they cannot touch so much as a sparrow unless it be caged?

The same Platonist says that Plato held the opinion “that no god has dealings with humans.” But this is not true. He says that the chief sign of the gods’ exalted status is that contact with humans never contaminates them. He therefore admits that demons are contaminated. It follows that they cannot cleanse the people who contaminate them. So all become impure, the demons by associating with humans, and humans by worshipping demons. But suppose they say that demons are not contaminated by associating and dealing with humans. Then demons are better than the gods, since the gods would be contaminated if they did the same. We are told that the gods’ glory lies in their exalted status. They are so far above us that no dealings with humans can defile them. He says that Plato speaks of the supreme God, the Creator of all things, whom we call the true God. Plato calls him the only God whom our limited human language cannot even adequately describe. Even the wise can glimpse his nature only when their minds are as free as possible from bodily restraints. And even then, their insight is like a flash of lightning illuminating the darkness. This supreme God is truly exalted above all things. Yet he still visits the minds of the wise when they are freed from the body. His presence can be understood, though it cannot be expressed in words. It comes only occasionally, like a quick flash of light across the darkness. Why, then, are the other gods kept so far from all contact with humans, as if it would pollute them? Surely we need only look up at the heavenly bodies that give the earth the light it needs. The stars, by his account, are visible gods. If our looking at them does not contaminate them, neither are demons contaminated when humans see them at close range. But perhaps it is the human voice, not the eye, that pollutes the gods. Is that why demons are appointed as messengers, carrying human words to the gods? Do the gods keep their distance for fear of pollution? What should I say about the other senses? Smell would pollute neither demons, who are present, nor gods, even if they were present and breathed in human odors. For they are not contaminated by the fumes from the carcasses offered in sacrifice. As for taste, they do not need to restore their bodies as they wear down. So they have no need to ask humans for food. And touch is under their own control. Contact may seem to be called by that name because it especially involves the sense of touch. Yet the gods, if they wished, could mingle with humans, seeing and being seen, hearing and being heard. Why would they need to touch anyone? Humans would not dare ask to touch gods or good demons if they were granted sight of them or conversation with them. And suppose excessive curiosity led them to ask. How could they touch a god or demon without consent? They cannot even touch a sparrow unless it is caged.

Apuleius, ibid.

There is, then, nothing to hinder the gods from mingling in a bodily form with men, from seeing and being seen, from speaking and hearing. And if the demons do thus mix with men, as I said, and are not polluted, while the gods, were they to do so, should be polluted, then the demons are less liable to pollution than the gods. And if even the demons are contaminated, how can they help men to attain blessedness after death, if, so far from being able to cleanse them, and present them clean to the unpolluted gods, these mediators are themselves polluted? And if they cannot confer this benefit on men, what good can their friendly mediation do? Or shall its result be, not that men find entrance to the gods, but that men and demons abide together in a state of pollution, and consequently of exclusion from blessedness? Unless, perhaps, some one may say that, like sponges or things of that sort, the demons themselves, in the process of cleansing their friends, become themselves the filthier in proportion as the others become clean. But if this is the solution, then the gods, who shun contact or intercourse with men for fear of pollution, mix with demons who are far more polluted. Or perhaps the gods, who cannot cleanse men without polluting themselves, can without pollution cleanse the demons who have been contaminated by human contact? Who can believe such follies, unless the demons have practised their deceit upon him? If seeing and being seen is contamination, and if the gods, whom Apuleius himself calls visible, "the brilliant lights of the world," and the other stars, are seen by men, are we to believe that the demons, who cannot be seen unless they please, are safer from contamination? Or if it is only the seeing and not the being seen which contaminates, then they must deny that these gods of theirs, these brilliant lights of the world, see men when their rays beam upon the earth. Their rays are not contaminated by lighting on all manner of pollution, and are we to suppose that the gods would be contaminated if they mixed with men, and even if contact were needed in order to assist them? For there is contact between the earth and the sun's or moon's rays, and yet this does not pollute the light.

So nothing prevents the gods from taking bodily form and mingling with humans, seeing and being seen, speaking and hearing. Suppose, as I said, that demons mingle with humans without becoming polluted. Yet if the gods did the same, they would become polluted. Then demons are less vulnerable to pollution than the gods. But suppose even demons become polluted. How can they help humans attain blessedness after death? These mediators are themselves polluted. So, far from cleansing humans, they cannot present them clean to the unpolluted gods. And if they cannot do this for humans, what good is their friendly mediation? Or will it leave humans and demons living together in a state of pollution, rather than bringing humans to the gods? In that case, both would be excluded from blessedness. Perhaps someone might say that demons are like sponges or similar things. As they cleanse their friends, they themselves become dirtier as the others become clean. But if that is the answer, then the gods mingle with demons who are far more polluted. Yet the gods avoid contact and interaction with humans for fear of pollution. Or perhaps the gods cannot cleanse humans without polluting themselves. Can they, then, cleanse the demons polluted by human contact without becoming polluted themselves? Who could believe such nonsense unless demons had deceived him? If seeing and being seen cause pollution, what about the gods Apuleius himself calls visible? Humans see “the brilliant lights of the world,” and the other stars. Are we to believe that demons are safer from pollution because they cannot be seen unless they choose to be? Or perhaps only seeing causes pollution, not being seen. In that case, they must deny that these gods of theirs, these brilliant lights of the world, see humans when their rays shine on the earth. Their rays are not polluted by falling on all kinds of filth. Are we then to suppose that the gods would be polluted by mingling with humans, even if contact were needed to help them? For the rays of the sun and moon touch the earth, yet this does not pollute their light.

Virgil, Georg. i. 5.

17. That to obtain the blessed life, which consists in partaking of the supreme good, man needs such mediation as is furnished not by a demon, but by Christ alone.
17. To attain the blessed life, which consists in sharing in the highest good, people need a mediator. Only Christ, not a demon, can provide this mediation.

I am considerably surprised that such learned men, men who pronounce all material and sensible things to be altogether inferior to those that are spiritual and intelligible, should mention bodily contact in connection with the blessed life. Is that sentiment of Plotinus forgotten?—"We must fly to our beloved fatherland. There is the Father, there our all. What fleet or flight shall convey us thither? Our way is, to become like God." If, then, one is nearer to God the liker he is to Him, there is no other distance from God than unlikeness to Him. And the soul of man is unlike that incorporeal and unchangeable and eternal essence, in proportion as it craves things temporal and mutable. And as the things beneath, which are mortal and impure, cannot hold intercourse with the immortal purity which is above, a mediator is indeed needed to remove this difficulty; but not a mediator who resembles the highest order of being by possessing an immortal body, and the lowest by having a diseased soul, which makes him rather grudge that we be healed than help our cure. We need a Mediator who, being united to us here below by the mortality of His body, should at the same time be able to afford us truly divine help in cleansing and liberating us by means of the immortal righteousness of His spirit, whereby He remained heavenly even while here upon earth. Far be it from the incontaminable God to fear pollution from the man He assumed, or from the men among whom He lived in the form of a man. For, though His incarnation showed us nothing else, these two wholesome facts were enough, that true divinity cannot be polluted by flesh, and that demons are not to be considered better than ourselves because they have not flesh. This, then, as Scripture says, is the "Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus," of whose divinity, whereby He is equal to the Father, and humanity, whereby He has become like us, this is not the place to speak as fully as I could.

I am very surprised that such learned men should speak of bodily contact in connection with the blessed life. They declare that all material things, and all things perceived by the senses, are entirely inferior to spiritual things and things understood by the mind. Have they forgotten what Plotinus said? “We must flee to our beloved homeland. There is the Father, and there is our all. What ship or flight will take us there? Our way is to become like God.” If we are nearer to God the more we are like him, then our only distance from God is our unlikeness to him. The human soul is unlike God’s bodiless, unchanging, and eternal nature to the extent that it craves temporary and changing things. Mortal and impure beings here below cannot have communion with the immortal purity above. A mediator is indeed needed to remove this difficulty. But we do not need a mediator who resembles the highest beings by having an immortal body and the lowest by having a diseased soul. Such a mediator would resent our healing rather than help cure us. We need a mediator who is united to us here below through the mortality of his body. At the same time, he must be able to give us truly divine help, cleansing and freeing us through the immortal righteousness of his spirit. Through that righteousness, he remained heavenly even while here on earth. God cannot be made impure. Far be it from him to fear contamination from the man he took on, or from the people among whom he lived in human form. Even if his incarnation showed us nothing else, these two truths would be enough for our good. True divinity cannot be made impure by flesh, and demons should not be considered better than we are because they lack flesh. This, then, is the one Scripture calls the “Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.” Through his divinity, he is equal to the Father. Through his humanity, he has become like us. This is not the place to speak about these matters as fully as I could.

Augustine apparently quotes from memory from two passages of the Enneades, I. vi. 8, and ii. 3.

Or, humanity.

Compare De Trin. 13. 22.

1 Tim. ii. 5.

18. That the deceitful demons, while promising to conduct men to God by their intercession, mean to turn them from the path of truth.

18. The deceitful demons promise to lead people to God by interceding for them, but intend to turn them away from the path of truth.

As to the demons, these false and deceitful mediators, who, though their uncleanness of spirit frequently reveals their misery and malignity, yet, by virtue of the levity of their aerial bodies and the nature of the places they inhabit, do contrive to turn us aside and hinder our spiritual progress; they do not help us towards God, but rather prevent us from reaching Him. Since even in the bodily way, which is erroneous and misleading, and in which righteousness does not walk,—for we must rise to God not by bodily ascent, but by incorporeal or spiritual conformity to Him,—in this bodily way, I say, which the friends of the demons arrange according to the weight of the various elements, the aerial demons being set between the ethereal gods and earthy men, they imagine the gods to have this privilege, that by this local interval they are preserved from the pollution of human contact. Thus they believe that the demons are contaminated by men rather than men cleansed by the demons, and that the gods themselves should be polluted unless their local superiority preserved them. Who is so wretched a creature as to expect purification by a way in which men are contaminating, demons contaminated, and gods contaminable? Who would not rather choose that way whereby we escape the contamination of the demons, and are cleansed from pollution by the incontaminable God, so as to be associated with the uncontaminated angels?

Demons are false and deceitful mediators. Their unclean spirits often reveal their misery and malice. Yet their light, airy bodies and the places they inhabit enable them to turn us aside and hinder our spiritual progress. They do not help us reach God. Instead, they prevent us from reaching him. Even the bodily route they propose is false and misleading. Righteousness does not follow it. We must rise to God not by moving upward in body, but by becoming like him in spirit. The friends of demons arrange this bodily route according to the weight of the elements. They place the airy demons between the heavenly gods and earthly humans. They imagine that this distance protects the gods from the pollution of human contact. Thus they believe that humans contaminate demons, rather than demons cleansing humans. They also believe that the gods themselves would be polluted unless their higher location protected them. Who is so wretched as to expect purification along such a route? On it, humans contaminate, demons are contaminated, and gods can be contaminated. Who would not rather choose the way that lets us escape the contamination of demons? By that way, God, who cannot be contaminated, cleanses us from pollution, so that we may join the uncontaminated angels.

19. That even among their own worshippers the name "demon" has never a good signification.

19. Even among those who worship them, the word "demon" never has a good meaning.

But as some of these demonolators, as I may call them, and among them Labeo, allege that those whom they call demons are by others called angels, I must, if I would not seem to dispute merely about words, say something about the good angels. The Platonists do not deny their existence, but prefer to call them good demons. But we, following Scripture, according to which we are Christians, have learned that some of the angels are good, some bad, but never have we read in Scripture of good demons; but wherever this or any cognate term occurs, it is applied only to wicked spirits. And this usage has become so universal, that, even among those who are called pagans, and who maintain that demons as well as gods should be worshipped, there is scarcely a man, no matter how well read and learned, who would dare to say by way of praise to his slave, You have a demon, or who could doubt that the man to whom he said this would consider it a curse? Why, then, are we to subject ourselves to the necessity of explaining away what we have said when we have given offence by using the word demon, with which every one, or almost every one, connects a bad meaning, while we can so easily evade this necessity by using the word angel?

Some of these demon worshippers, as I may call them, claim that what they call demons, others call angels. Labeo is among them. So, if I am not to seem to be arguing merely about words, I must say something about the good angels. The Platonists do not deny that they exist, but prefer to call them good demons. We, however, follow Scripture, according to which we are Christians. From Scripture we have learned that some angels are good and others are bad. But we have never read there of good demons. Wherever this word or a related term appears, it refers only to wicked spirits. This usage has become almost universal. Even pagans maintain that demons as well as gods should be worshipped. Yet scarcely one of them, however well-read and learned, would dare praise a slave by saying, “You have a demon.” Nor could he doubt that the slave would consider it a curse. Why, then, should we use the word demon, which everyone, or almost everyone, takes in a bad sense? If we give offense, we will have to explain away what we have said. We can so easily avoid this by using the word angel instead.

20. Of the kind of knowledge which puffs up the demons.

20. The kind of knowledge that makes demons proud.

However, the very origin of the name suggests something worthy of consideration, if we compare it with the divine books. They are called demons from a Greek word meaning knowledge. Now the apostle, speaking with the Holy Spirit, says, "Knowledge puffeth up, but charity buildeth up." And this can only be understood as meaning that without charity knowledge does no good, but inflates a man or magnifies him with an empty windiness. The demons, then, have knowledge without charity, and are thereby so inflated or proud, that they crave those divine honours and religious services which they know to be due to the true God, and still, as far as they can, exact these from all over whom they have influence. Against this pride of the demons, under which the human race was held subject as its merited punishment, there was exerted the mighty influence of the humility of God, who appeared in the form of a servant; but men, resembling the demons in pride, but not in knowledge, and being puffed up with uncleanness, failed to recognise Him.

The origin of the name itself is worth considering in light of the divine books. They are called demons from a Greek word meaning knowledge. The apostle, speaking through the Holy Spirit, says, "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." This can only mean that knowledge without love does no good. Instead, it fills a person with empty pride. The demons have knowledge without love. As a result, they are so inflated with pride that they crave divine honors and religious service. They know these are due to the true God. Yet they still demand them, as far as they can, from everyone under their influence. The human race was held subject to the demons' pride as its deserved punishment. Against that pride, God exerted the mighty influence of his humility, appearing in the form of a servant. But people resembled the demons in pride, though not in knowledge. Puffed up with uncleanness, they failed to recognize him.

δαίμων = δαήμων, meaning “knowing.” See Plato, Cratylus, 398. b.

1 Cor. viii. 1.

21. To what extent the Lord was pleased to make Himself known to the demons.

21. How much the Lord chose to reveal himself to the demons.

The devils themselves knew this manifestation of God so well, that they said to the Lord, though clothed with the infirmity of flesh, "What have we to do with Thee, Jesus of Nazareth? Art Thou come to destroy us before the time?" From these words, it is clear that they had great knowledge, and no charity. They feared His power to punish, and did not love His righteousness. He made known to them so much as He pleased, and He was pleased to make known so much as was needful. But He made Himself known, not as to the holy angels, who know Him as the Word of God, and rejoice in His eternity, which they partake, but as was requisite to strike with terror the beings from whose tyranny He was going to free those who were predestined to His kingdom and the glory of it, eternally true and truly eternal. He made Himself known, therefore, to the demons, not by that which is life eternal, and the unchangeable light which illumines the pious, whose souls are cleansed by the faith that is in Him, but by some temporal effects of His power, and evidences of His mysterious presence, which were more easily discerned by the angelic senses even of wicked spirits than by human infirmity. But when He judged it advisable gradually to suppress these signs, and to retire into deeper obscurity, the prince of the demons doubted whether He were the Christ, and endeavoured to ascertain this by tempting Him, in so far as He permitted Himself to be tempted, that He might adapt the manhood He wore to be an example for our imitation. But after that temptation, when, as Scripture says, He was ministered to by the angels who are good and holy, and therefore objects of terror to the impure spirits, He revealed more and more distinctly to the demons how great He was, so that, even though the infirmity of His flesh might seem contemptible, none dared to resist His authority.

The demons themselves knew this manifestation of God well. Even though the Lord was clothed in weak human flesh, they said to him, "What do you have to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us before the time?" Their words show that they had great knowledge, but no love. They feared his power to punish, but did not love his righteousness. He revealed to them as much as he chose, and he chose to reveal as much as was necessary. But he did not reveal himself to them as he does to the holy angels. They know him as the Word of God and rejoice in his eternity, which they share. Instead, he revealed himself enough to terrify the beings from whose tyranny he would free those predestined for his kingdom. They were also predestined for its glory, which is eternally true and truly eternal. So he did not make himself known to the demons through what is eternal life and unchanging light. That light illuminates the godly, whose souls are cleansed by faith in him. Instead, he revealed himself through certain effects of his power in time and signs of his mysterious presence. Even wicked spirits could perceive these more easily with their angelic senses than weak human beings could. But he later judged it best to suppress these signs gradually and become less visible. Then the prince of the demons doubted whether he was the Christ. He tried to find out by tempting him, as far as Christ allowed himself to be tempted. Christ allowed this so that, in the humanity he had taken on, he could give us an example to follow. After that temptation, as Scripture says, good and holy angels attended him. These angels are a terror to impure spirits. Christ revealed his greatness more and more clearly to the demons. Though his weak flesh might seem contemptible, none of them dared resist his authority.

Mark i. 24.

Matt. iv. 3-11.

22. The difference between the knowledge of the holy angels and that of the demons.

22. How the knowledge of holy angels differs from that of demons.

The good angels, therefore, hold cheap all that knowledge of material and transitory things which the demons are so proud of possessing,—not that they are ignorant of these things, but because the love of God, whereby they are sanctified, is very dear to them, and because, in comparison of that not merely immaterial but also unchangeable and ineffable beauty, with the holy love of which they are inflamed, they despise all things which are beneath it, and all that is not it, that they may with every good thing that is in them enjoy that good which is the source of their goodness. And therefore they have a more certain knowledge even of those temporal and mutable things, because they contemplate their principles and causes in the word of God, by which the world was made,—those causes by which one thing is approved, another rejected, and all arranged. But the demons do not behold in the wisdom of God these eternal, and, as it were, cardinal causes of things temporal, but only foresee a larger part of the future than men do, by reason of their greater acquaintance with the signs which are hidden from us. Sometimes, too, it is their own intentions they predict. And, finally, the demons are frequently, the angels never, deceived. For it is one thing, by the aid of things temporal and changeable, to conjecture the changes that may occur in time, and to modify such things by one's own will and faculty,—and this is to a certain extent permitted to the demons,—it is another thing to foresee the changes of times in the eternal and immutable laws of God, which live in His wisdom, and to know the will of God, the most infallible and powerful of all causes, by participating in His spirit; and this is granted to the holy angels by a just discretion. And thus they are not only eternal, but blessed And the good wherein they are blessed is God, by whom they were created. For without end they enjoy the contemplation and participation of Him.

The good angels place little value on all the knowledge of material and passing things that demons are so proud to possess. This is not because they are ignorant of these things. Rather, the love of God, by which they are made holy, is very precious to them. They are filled with holy love for his beauty, which is not only immaterial but also unchanging and beyond words. Compared with that beauty, they look down on all things beneath it and everything that is not that beauty. Thus, with every good thing in them, they enjoy the good that is the source of their goodness. For this reason, they have more certain knowledge even of things that change and pass away. They see their principles and causes in the word of God, through which the world was made. By these causes, one thing is approved, another rejected, and all things put in order. But demons do not see these eternal causes of passing things in the wisdom of God. These causes are, so to speak, the fundamental causes. Demons foresee more of the future than humans do only because they know more about signs hidden from us. Sometimes they also predict what they themselves intend to do. Finally, demons are often deceived, but angels never are. It is one thing to use passing and changing things to guess what changes may occur in time. It is also one thing to change such things by one's own will and power. Demons are permitted to do this to a certain extent. It is another thing to foresee changes in time through God's eternal and unchanging laws, which live in his wisdom. It is also another thing to know God's will by sharing in his spirit. His will is the most infallible and powerful of all causes. These things are granted to the holy angels according to God's just judgment. Thus, they are not only eternal but also blessed. The good in which they find their blessedness is God, who created them. They enjoy contemplating and sharing in him without end.

23. That the name of gods is falsely given to the gods of the Gentiles, though Scripture applies it both to the holy angels and just men.

23. The gods of the Gentiles are falsely called gods, though Scripture uses this name for both holy angels and righteous people.

If the Platonists prefer to call these angels gods rather than demons, and to reckon them with those whom Plato, their founder and master, maintains were created by the supreme God, they are welcome to do so, for I will not spend strength in fighting about words. For if they say that these beings are immortal, and yet created by the supreme God, blessed but by cleaving to their Creator and not by their own power, they say what we say, whatever name they call these beings by. And that this is the opinion either of all or the best of the Platonists can be ascertained by their writings. And regarding the name itself, if they see fit to call such blessed and immortal creatures gods, this need not give rise to any serious discussion between us, since in our own Scriptures we read, "The God of gods, the Lord hath spoken;" and again, "Confess to the God of gods;" and again, "He is a great King above all gods." And where it is said, "He is to be feared above all gods," the reason is forthwith added, for it follows, "for all the gods of the nations are idols, but the Lord made the heavens." He said, "above all gods," but added, "of the nations;" that is to say, above all those whom the nations count gods, in other words, demons. By them He is to be feared with that terror in which they cried to the Lord, "Hast Thou come to destroy us?" But where it is said, "the God of gods," it cannot be understood as the god of the demons; and far be it from us to say that "great King above all gods" means "great King above all demons." But the same Scripture also calls men who belong to God's people "gods:" "I have said, Ye are gods, and all of you children of the Most High." Accordingly, when God is styled God of gods, this may be understood of these gods; and so, too, when He is styled a great King above all gods.

If the Platonists prefer to call these angels gods rather than demons, they may do so. They may count them among those whom Plato, their founder and master, said the supreme God created. I will not waste my strength arguing over words. They may say these beings are immortal, yet created by the supreme God. They may also say they are blessed because they remain close to their Creator, not through their own power. If so, they agree with us, whatever name they give these beings. Their writings show that this is the view of either all or the best of the Platonists. As for the name itself, they may choose to call such blessed and immortal creatures gods. This need not cause any serious dispute between us. Our own Scriptures say, "The God of gods, the Lord has spoken." They also say, "Give thanks to the God of gods," and, "He is a great King above all gods." Where Scripture says, "He is to be feared above all gods," it immediately gives the reason. It continues, "for all the gods of the nations are idols, but the Lord made the heavens." It says, "above all gods," but adds, "of the nations." This means all those whom the nations count as gods, in other words, demons. They fear him with the terror they showed when they cried to the Lord, "Have you come to destroy us?" But "the God of gods" cannot mean the god of the demons. And we must never say that "great King above all gods" means "great King above all demons." The same Scripture also calls people who belong to God's people "gods." It says, "I have said, you are gods, and all of you are children of the Most High." So when God is called the God of gods, this may refer to these gods. The same may be understood when he is called a great King above all gods.

Timæus.

Ps. l. 1.

Ps. cxxxvi. 2.

Psalm xcv. 3.

Ps. xcvi. 5, 6.

Ps. lxxxii. 6.

Nevertheless, some one may say, if men are called gods because they belong to God's people, whom He addresses by means of men and angels, are not the immortals, who already enjoy that felicity which men seek to attain by worshipping God, much more worthy of the title? And what shall we reply to this, if not that it is not without reason that in holy Scripture men are more expressly styled gods than those immortal and blessed spirits to whom we hope to be equal in the resurrection, because there was a fear that the weakness of unbelief, being overcome with the excellence of these beings, might presume to constitute some of them a god? In the case of men this was a result that need not be guarded against. Besides, it was right that the men belonging to God's people should be more expressly called gods, to assure and certify them that He who is called God of gods is their God; because, although those immortal and blessed spirits who dwell in the heavens are called gods, yet they are not called gods of gods, that is to say, gods of the men who constitute God's people, and to whom it is said, "I have said, Ye are gods, and all of you the children of the Most High." Hence the saying of the apostle, "Though there be that are called gods, whether in heaven or in earth, as there be gods many and lords many, but to us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we in Him; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by Him."

Still, someone may say, “People are called gods because they belong to God’s people, whom he addresses through people and angels. But the immortals already enjoy the happiness that people seek by worshipping God. Are they not even more worthy of that title?” What should we say in reply? Scripture has good reason to call people gods more explicitly than those immortal and blessed spirits. We hope to become equal to those spirits in the resurrection. But there was a danger that weak unbelievers, overwhelmed by their excellence, might presume to make some of them gods. There was no need to guard against this in the case of human beings. There was another reason to call the people who belong to God’s people gods more explicitly. It assured them that he who is called the God of gods is their God. The immortal and blessed spirits who dwell in heaven are also called gods. But they are not called gods of gods. That is, they are not gods of the people who make up God’s people. It is to those people that God says, “I have said, You are gods, and all of you are children of the Most High.” This is why the apostle says, “Though there are those who are called gods, whether in heaven or on earth, as there are many gods and many lords, yet for us there is one God, the Father. All things are from him, and we are in him. And there is one Lord Jesus Christ. All things are through him, and we are through him.”

1 Cor. viii. 5, 6.

We need not, therefore, laboriously contend about the name, since the reality is so obvious as to admit of no shadow of doubt. That which we say, that the angels who are sent to announce the will of God to men belong to the order of blessed immortals, does not satisfy the Platonists, because they believe that this ministry is discharged, not by those whom they call gods, in other words, not by blessed immortals, but by demons, whom they dare not affirm to be blessed, but only immortal, or if they do rank them among the blessed immortals, yet only as good demons, and not as gods who dwell in the heaven of heavens remote from all human contact. But, though it may seem mere wrangling about a name, yet the name of demon is so detestable that we cannot bear in any sense to apply it to the holy angels. Now, therefore, let us close this book in the assurance that, whatever we call these immortal and blessed spirits, who yet are only creatures, they do not act as mediators to introduce to everlasting felicity miserable mortals, from whom they are severed by a twofold distinction. And those others who are mediators, in so far as they have immortality in common with their superiors, and misery in common with their inferiors (for they are justly miserable in punishment of their wickedness), cannot bestow upon us, but rather grudge that we should possess, the blessedness from which they themselves are excluded. And so the friends of the demons have nothing considerable to allege why we should rather worship them as our helpers than avoid them as traitors to our interests. As for those spirits who are good, and who are therefore not only immortal but also blessed, and to whom they suppose we should give the title of gods, and offer worship and sacrifices for the sake of inheriting a future life, we shall, by God's help, endeavour in the following book to show that these spirits, call them by what name, and ascribe to them what nature you will, desire that religious worship be paid to God alone, by whom they were created, and by whose communications of Himself to them they are blessed.

So we need not struggle over the name, since the reality is obvious beyond any doubt. We say that the angels sent to announce God’s will to human beings belong to the order of blessed immortals. The Platonists do not accept this. They believe that this service is performed by demons, not by those they call gods, that is, blessed immortals. They dare not claim that these demons are blessed, only that they are immortal. Or, if they do count them among the blessed immortals, they call them good demons, not gods. The gods, they say, dwell in the heaven of heavens, far removed from all human contact. This may seem like an argument over a name. Yet the name “demon” is so hateful that we cannot bear to apply it to the holy angels in any sense. Let us now close this book with one assurance. Whatever we call these immortal and blessed spirits, they are only creatures. They do not serve as mediators who bring miserable mortals into everlasting happiness. Two differences separate these spirits from mortals: they are both immortal and blessed. The other spirits do serve as mediators. They share immortality with those above them and misery with those below them. For they are justly miserable as punishment for their wickedness. They cannot give us the blessedness from which they themselves are excluded. Instead, they resent our having it. So the friends of the demons have no substantial reason to offer for worshiping them as helpers rather than avoiding them as traitors to our interests. There are also good spirits who are therefore not only immortal but blessed. Their friends believe we should call them gods and offer them worship and sacrifices to inherit a future life. With God’s help, we shall try to show in the next book that these spirits desire religious worship to be given to God alone. This is true whatever name you give them or whatever nature you attribute to them. God created them, and they are blessed because he shares himself with them.