Book Two

1. Of the limits which must be put to the necessity of replying to an adversary.

1. On the limits that must be placed on the need to reply to an opponent.

If the feeble mind of man did not presume to resist the clear evidence of truth, but yielded its infirmity to wholesome doctrines, as to a health-giving medicine, until it obtained from God, by its faith and piety, the grace needed to heal it, they who have just ideas, and express them in suitable language, would need to use no long discourse to refute the errors of empty conjecture. But this mental infirmity is now more prevalent and hurtful than ever, to such an extent that even after the truth has been as fully demonstrated as man can prove it to man, they hold for the very truth their own unreasonable fancies, either on account of their great blindness, which prevents them from seeing what is plainly set before them, or on account of their opinionative obstinacy, which prevents them from acknowledging the force of what they do see. There therefore frequently arises a necessity of speaking more fully on those points which are already clear, that we may, as it were, present them not to the eye, but even to the touch, so that they may be felt even by those who close their eyes against them. And yet to what end shall we ever bring our discussions, or what bounds can be set to our discourse, if we proceed on the principle that we must always reply to those who reply to us? For those who are either unable to understand our arguments, or are so hardened by the habit of contradiction, that though they understand they cannot yield to them, reply to us, and, as it is written, "speak hard things,"⁸¹ and are incorrigibly vain. Now, if we were to propose to confute their objections as often as they with brazen face chose to disregard our arguments, and as often as they could by any means contradict our statements, you see how endless, and fruitless, and painful a task we should be undertaking. And therefore I do not wish my writings to be judged even by you, my son Marcellinus, nor by any of those others at whose service this work of mine is freely and in all Christian charity put, if at least you intend always to require a reply to every exception which you hear taken to what you read in it; for so you would become like those silly women of whom the apostle says that they are "always learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth."⁸²

If the weak human mind did not presume to resist the clear evidence of truth, it would accept sound teaching as healing medicine. It would do so until, through faith and devotion, it received from God the grace needed for its healing. Then those who think clearly and express themselves well would not need lengthy arguments to refute groundless speculation. But this weakness of mind is now more widespread and harmful than ever. Even when truth has been demonstrated as fully as one person can demonstrate it to another, people take their own unreasonable fantasies for truth. Some are so blind that they cannot see what is plainly before them. Others are so stubborn in their opinions that they will not acknowledge the force of what they do see. So we often need to explain at greater length what is already clear. We must, so to speak, present it not only to the eyes but also to the touch. Then even those who close their eyes to it may feel it. Yet how could we ever finish our discussions, or limit what we say, if we always replied to those who answer us? Some cannot understand our arguments. Others are so hardened by the habit of contradiction that, though they understand, they cannot yield to them. They answer us and, as Scripture says, "speak hard things,"⁸¹ and are hopelessly vain. Suppose we tried to refute their objections whenever they shamelessly chose to ignore our arguments and whenever they could find any way to contradict us. You can see what an endless, fruitless, and painful task we would undertake. Therefore, my son Marcellinus, I do not want you to judge my writings on those terms. Nor do I want any others to do so, though I freely offer this work for their benefit, in Christian charity. For you must not always require an answer to every objection you hear against what you read in it. If you did, you would become like those foolish women of whom the apostle says that they are "always learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth."⁸²

2. Recapitulation of the contents of the first book.

2. Summary of the contents of the first book.

In the foregoing book, having begun to speak of the city of God, to which I have resolved, Heaven helping me, to consecrate the whole of this work, it was my first endeavour to reply to those who attribute the wars by which the world is being devastated, and specially the recent sack of Rome by the barbarians, to the religion of Christ, which prohibits the offering of abominable sacrifices to devils. I have shown that they ought rather to attribute it to Christ, that for His name's sake the barbarians, in contravention of all custom and law of war, threw open as sanctuaries the largest churches, and in many instances showed such reverence to Christ, that not only His genuine servants, but even those who in their terror feigned themselves to be so, were exempted from all those hardships which by the custom of war may lawfully be inflicted. Then out of this there arose the question, why wicked and ungrateful men were permitted to share in these benefits; and why, too, the hardships and calamities of war were inflicted on the godly as well as on the ungodly. And in giving a suitably full answer to this large question, I occupied some considerable space, partly that I might relieve the anxieties which disturb many when they observe that the blessings of God, and the common and daily human casualties, fall to the lot of bad men and good without distinction; but mainly that I might minister some consolation to those holy and chaste women who were outraged by the enemy, in such a way as to shock their modesty, though not to sully their purity, and that I might preserve them from being ashamed of life, though they have no guilt to be ashamed of. And then I briefly spoke against those who with a most shameless wantonness insult over those poor Christians who were subjected to those calamities, and especially over those broken-hearted and humiliated, though chaste and holy women; these fellows themselves being most depraved and unmanly profligates, quite degenerate from the genuine Romans, whose famous deeds are abundantly recorded in history, and everywhere celebrated, but who have found in their descendants the greatest enemies of their glory. In truth, Rome, which was founded and increased by the labours of these ancient heroes, was more shamefully ruined by their descendants, while its walls were still standing, than it is now by the razing of them. For in this ruin there fell stones and timbers; but in the ruin those profligates effected, there fell, not the mural, but the moral bulwarks and ornaments of the city, and their hearts burned with passions more destructive than the flames which consumed their houses. Thus I brought my first book to a close. And now I go on to speak of those calamities which that city itself, or its subject provinces, have suffered since its foundation; all of which they would equally have attributed to the Christian religion, if at that early period the doctrine of the gospel against their false and deceiving gods had been as largely and freely proclaimed as now.

In the previous book, I began to speak of the city of God. With heaven’s help, I have resolved to devote this whole work to it. I first tried to answer those who blame the Christian religion for the wars devastating the world. They blame it especially for the recent sack of Rome by the barbarians. They do so because the religion of Christ forbids the offering of abominable sacrifices to demons. I showed that they should instead give Christ credit for the following mercy. For the sake of his name, the barbarians opened the largest churches as places of refuge. This was contrary to every custom and law of war. In many cases, they showed such reverence for Christ that they spared people the hardships customarily allowed in war. They spared not only his true servants, but even those who pretended to be his servants out of fear. This raised a question. Why were wicked and ungrateful people allowed to share in these benefits? And why did the hardships and disasters of war fall on the godly as well as the ungodly? I devoted considerable space to giving a suitably full answer to this broad question. Partly, I wanted to ease the anxiety many feel when they see good and bad people receive God’s blessings alike. The common, everyday misfortunes of human life also fall on both without distinction. But above all, I wanted to offer comfort to the holy and chaste women who were violated by the enemy. What happened offended their modesty, but it did not stain their purity. I wanted to keep them from being ashamed to live, since they have no guilt to be ashamed of. I then spoke briefly against those who shamelessly and recklessly mock the poor Christians who suffered those disasters. They mock especially those women who are heartbroken and humiliated, though still chaste and holy. These men are themselves utterly depraved and unmanly in their excesses. They have fallen far from the character of the true Romans. The famous deeds of those Romans are amply recorded in history and celebrated everywhere. Yet their descendants have become the greatest enemies of their glory. In truth, Rome was founded and strengthened by the labors of those ancient heroes. Their descendants brought it to a more shameful ruin while its walls still stood than it suffers now from their destruction. In this ruin, stones and timbers fell. But in the ruin brought about by those depraved men, it was not the city’s walls that fell. Its moral defenses and ornaments fell instead. Their hearts burned with passions more destructive than the flames that consumed their houses. So I brought my first book to a close. Now I turn to the disasters that Rome itself and its subject provinces have suffered since the city’s founding. They would have blamed all of these on the Christian religion as well, had the gospel’s teaching against their false and deceptive gods been proclaimed then as widely and freely as it is now.

But remember that, in recounting these things, I have still to address myself to ignorant men; so ignorant, indeed, as to give birth to the common saying, "Drought and Christianity go hand in hand."⁸³ There are indeed some among them who are thoroughly well educated men, and have a taste for history, in which the things I speak of are open to their observation; but in order to irritate the uneducated masses against us, they feign ignorance of these events, and do what they can to make the vulgar believe that those disasters, which in certain places and at certain times uniformly befall mankind, are the result of Christianity, which is being everywhere diffused, and is possessed of a renown and brilliancy which quite eclipse their own gods.⁸⁴ Let them then, along with us, call to mind with what various and repeated disasters the prosperity of Rome was blighted, before ever Christ had come in the flesh, and before His name had been blazoned among the nations with that glory which they vainly grudge. Let them, if they can, defend their gods in this article, since they maintain that they worship them in order to be preserved from these disasters, which they now impute to us if they suffer in the least degree. For why did these gods permit the disasters I am to speak of to fall on their worshippers before the preaching of Christ's name offended them, and put an end to their sacrifices?

But remember that, in recounting these events, I must still address ignorant people. They are so ignorant that they have given rise to the common saying, "Drought and Christianity go hand in hand."⁸³ Some of them are indeed highly educated and have an interest in history. There they can see the events I describe. Yet they pretend not to know about them, so they can stir up the uneducated masses against us. They do all they can to make ordinary people believe that Christianity causes these disasters. Such disasters regularly strike humanity in certain places and at certain times. Yet Christianity is spreading everywhere, and its fame and splendor entirely eclipse their own gods.⁸⁴ Let them join us, then, in recalling the many repeated disasters that blighted Rome's prosperity. These happened before Christ came in the flesh and before his name was proclaimed among the nations. They resent the glory of his name, but in vain. Let them defend their gods on this point, if they can. They claim to worship these gods to be protected from disasters. Yet whenever they suffer these disasters even slightly, they now blame us. Why did these gods allow the disasters I am about to describe to strike their worshippers? These disasters happened before the preaching of Christ's name offended the gods and put an end to their sacrifices.

First of all, we would ask why their gods took no steps to improve the morals of their worshippers. That the true God should neglect those who did not seek His help, that was but justice; but why did those gods, from whose worship ungrateful men are now complaining that they are prohibited, issue no laws which might have guided their devotees to a virtuous life? Surely it was but just, that such care as men showed to the worship of the gods, the gods on their part should have to the conduct of men. But, it is replied, it is by his own will a man goes astray. Who denies it? But none the less was it incumbent on these gods, who were men's guardians, to publish in plain terms the laws of a good life, and not to conceal them from their worshippers. It was their part to send prophets to reach and convict such as broke these laws, and publicly to proclaim the punishments which await evildoers, and the rewards which may be looked for by those that do well. Did ever the walls of any of their temples echo to any such warning voice? I myself, when I was a young man, used sometimes to go to the sacrilegious entertainments and spectacles; I saw the priests raving in religious excitement, and heard the choristers; I took pleasure in the shameful games which were celebrated in honour of gods and goddesses, of the virgin Cœlestis,⁸⁵ and Berecynthia,⁸⁶ the mother of all the gods. And on the holy day consecrated to her purification, there were sung before her couch productions so obscene and filthy for the ear—I do not say of the mother of the gods, but of the mother of any senator or honest man—nay, so impure, that not even the mother of the foul-mouthed players themselves could have formed one of the audience. For natural reverence for parents is a bond which the most abandoned cannot ignore. And, accordingly, the lewd actions and filthy words with which these players honoured the mother of the gods, in presence of a vast assemblage and audience of both sexes, they could not for very shame have rehearsed at home in presence of their own mothers. And the crowds that were gathered from all quarters by curiosity, offended modesty must, I should suppose, have scattered in the confusion of shame. If these are sacred rites, what is sacrilege? If this is purification, what is pollution? This festivity was called the Tables,⁸⁷ as if a banquet were being given at which unclean devils might find suitable refreshment. For it is not difficult to see what kind of spirits they must be who are delighted with such obscenities, unless, indeed, a man be blinded by these evil spirits passing themselves off under the name of gods, and either disbelieves in their existence, or leads such a life as prompts him rather to propitiate and fear them than the true God.

First, we must ask why their gods did nothing to improve the morals of their worshippers. It was only just for the true God to leave alone those who did not seek his help. But ungrateful people now complain that they are forbidden to worship their gods. Why did those gods issue no laws to guide their followers toward a virtuous life? Surely, if people cared for the worship of the gods, the gods should have cared for their conduct. But someone replies that people go astray by their own choice. Who denies it? Even so, these gods claimed to guard humanity. They should have clearly declared the laws of a good life, not hidden them from their worshippers. They should have sent prophets to reach those who broke these laws and convince them of their guilt. They should have publicly announced the punishments awaiting wrongdoers and the rewards promised to those who do good. Did any of their temples ever echo with such a warning? When I was young, I sometimes attended the sacrilegious entertainments and spectacles. I saw the priests in a religious frenzy and heard the singers. I took pleasure in the shameful games held in honor of gods and goddesses, including the virgin Cœlestis,⁸⁵ and Berecynthia,⁸⁶ the mother of all the gods. On the holy day set aside for Berecynthia’s purification, songs were sung before her couch. They were too obscene and filthy for the mother of any senator or honest man to hear, let alone the mother of the gods. Indeed, they were so impure that even the mothers of the foul-mouthed performers could not have sat among the audience. For even the most shameless people cannot ignore the natural respect owed to their parents. These performers honored the mother of the gods with lewd actions and filthy words before a vast audience of men and women. Yet they would have been too ashamed to perform them at home before their own mothers. Crowds came from everywhere out of curiosity. But I would have expected their offended modesty to scatter them in shame and confusion. If these are sacred rites, what is sacrilege? If this is purification, what is pollution? The festival was called the Tables,⁸⁷ as if a banquet had been laid out where unclean devils could find suitable refreshment. It is not hard to see what kind of spirits delight in such obscenities. Yet these evil spirits pass themselves off as gods and blind people. Such a person either disbelieves in their existence or lives in a way that leads him to appease and fear them rather than the true God.

5. Of the obscenities practised in honour of the mother of the gods.

5. The obscene acts performed in honor of the mother of the gods.

In this matter I would prefer to have as my assessors in judgment, not those men who rather take pleasure in these infamous customs than take pains to put an end to them, but that same Scipio Nasica who was chosen by the senate as the citizen most worthy to receive in his hands the image of that demon Cybele, and convey it into the city. He would tell us whether he would be proud to see his own mother so highly esteemed by the state as to have divine honours adjudged to her; as the Greeks and Romans and other nations have decreed divine honours to men who had been of material service to them, and have believed that their mortal benefactors were thus made immortal, and enrolled among the gods.⁸⁸ Surely he would desire that his mother should enjoy such felicity were it possible. But if we proceeded to ask him whether, among the honours paid to her, he would wish such shameful rites as these to be celebrated, would he not at once exclaim that he would rather his mother lay stone-dead, than survive as a goddess to lend her ear to these obscenities? Is it possible that he who was of so severe a morality, that he used his influence as a Roman senator to prevent the building of a theatre in that city dedicated to the manly virtues, would wish his mother to be propitiated as a goddess with words which would have brought the blush to her cheek when a Roman matron? Could he possibly believe that the modesty of an estimable woman would be so transformed by her promotion to divinity, that she would suffer herself to be invoked and celebrated in terms so gross and immodest, that if she had heard the like while alive upon earth, and had listened without stopping her ears and hurrying from the spot, her relatives, her husband, and her children would have blushed for her? Therefore, the mother of the gods being such a character as the most profligate man would be ashamed to have for his mother, and meaning to enthral the minds of the Romans, demanded for her service their best citizen, not to ripen him still more in virtue by her helpful counsel, but to entangle him by her deceit, like her of whom it is written, "The adulteress will hunt for the precious soul."⁸⁹ Her intent was to puff up this high-souled man by an apparently divine testimony to his excellence, in order that he might rely upon his own eminence in virtue, and make no further efforts after true piety and religion, without which natural genius, however brilliant, vapours into pride and comes to nothing. For what but a guileful purpose could that goddess demand the best man, seeing that in her own sacred festivals she requires such obscenities as the best men would be covered with shame to hear at their own tables?

In this matter, I would rather have Scipio Nasica judge alongside me than men who enjoy these shameful customs instead of trying to end them. The senate chose Nasica as the citizen most worthy to receive the image of that demon Cybele and carry it into the city. He could tell us whether he would be proud to see the state honor his own mother as a goddess. The Greeks, Romans, and other nations have given divine honors to men who rendered them great services. They believed that their mortal benefactors were thereby made immortal and counted among the gods.⁸⁸ Surely he would want his mother to enjoy such happiness, if it were possible. But suppose we asked him whether he would want such shameful rites performed among the honors paid to her. Would he not immediately cry out that he would rather see his mother dead than living as a goddess who listens to these obscenities? His morals were so strict that, as a Roman senator, he used his influence to prevent a theater from being built in that city devoted to manly virtues. Could he wish his mother to be honored as a goddess with words that would have made her blush as a Roman matron? Could he believe that becoming a goddess would so change a respectable woman’s modesty? Would she allow herself to be invoked and praised in such crude and indecent terms? If she had heard such words on earth, she would have had to cover her ears and hurry away. Otherwise, her relatives, husband, and children would have blushed for her. The mother of the gods is the sort of character that even the most immoral man would be ashamed to have as his mother. Yet, intending to enslave the minds of the Romans, she demanded their best citizen to serve her. She did not mean to help him grow still more virtuous through her advice. She meant to trap him by her deceit, like the woman of whom it is written, "The adulteress will hunt for the precious soul."⁸⁹ She intended to make this noble-minded man proud by giving what seemed to be divine testimony to his excellence. Then he would rely on his own outstanding virtue and make no further effort to seek true piety and religion. Without these, natural genius, however brilliant, swells into pride and comes to nothing. What but a deceitful purpose could explain why that goddess demanded the best man? For at her own sacred festivals, she demands obscenities that the best men would be ashamed to hear at their own tables.

6. That the gods of the pagans never inculcated holiness of life.

6. The pagan gods never taught people to live holy lives.

This is the reason why those divinities quite neglected the lives and morals of the cities and nations who worshipped them, and threw no dreadful prohibition in their way to hinder them from becoming utterly corrupt, and to preserve them from those terrible and detestable evils which visit not harvests and vintages, not house and possessions, not the body which is subject to the soul, but the soul itself, the spirit that rules the whole man. If there was any such prohibition, let it be produced, let it be proved. They will tell us that purity and probity were inculcated upon those who were initiated in the mysteries of religion, and that secret incitements to virtue were whispered in the ear of the élite; but this is an idle boast. Let them show or name to us the places which were at any time consecrated to assemblages in which, instead of the obscene songs and licentious acting of players, instead of the celebration of those most filthy and shameless Fugalia⁹⁰ (well called Fugalia, since they banish modesty and right feeling), the people were commanded in the name of the gods to restrain avarice, bridle impurity, and conquer ambition; where, in short, they might learn in that school which Persius vehemently lashes them to, when he says: "Be taught, ye abandoned creatures, and ascertain the causes of things; what we are, and for what end we are born; what is the law of our success in life, and by what art we may turn the goal without making shipwreck; what limit we should put to our wealth, what we may lawfully desire, and what uses filthy lucre serves; how much we should bestow upon our country and our family; learn, in short, what God meant thee to be, and what place He has ordered you to fill."⁹¹ Let them name to us the places where such instructions were wont to be communicated from the gods, and where the people who worshipped them were accustomed to resort to hear them, as we can point to our churches built for this purpose in every land where the Christian religion is received.

This is why those gods paid no attention to the lives and morals of the cities and nations that worshipped them. They issued no fearsome commands to keep their worshippers from becoming utterly corrupt. They did nothing to protect them from those terrible and detestable evils that strike neither harvests nor vineyards, houses nor possessions, nor even the body, which is subject to the soul. These evils strike the soul itself, the spirit that governs the whole person. If the gods issued any such command, let it be brought forward and proved. Their defenders will tell us that initiates into religious mysteries were taught purity and honesty. They will say that secret encouragements to virtue were whispered to the élite. But this is an empty boast. Let them show us or name the places ever set apart for gatherings where the people were commanded, in the name of the gods, to restrain greed, curb impurity, and overcome ambition. Such gatherings would replace the obscene songs and immoral performances of actors. They would also replace the celebration of the utterly filthy and shameless Fugalia⁹⁰. These are rightly called Fugalia, for they drive away modesty and right feeling. In those places, the people might learn from the school Persius urges them toward so forcefully when he says: "Learn, you abandoned creatures, and discover the causes of things. Learn what we are and why we are born. Learn what law governs success in life, and what skill will carry us around the goal without shipwreck. Learn what limit to place on our wealth, what we may rightly desire, and what uses filthy profit serves. Learn how much we should give to our country and our family. In short, learn what God meant you to be and what place he has ordered you to fill."⁹¹ Let them name the places where such teachings were regularly given by the gods. Let them name the places where their worshippers were accustomed to gather and hear them. We can point to our churches, built for this purpose in every land where the Christian religion is accepted.

But will they perhaps remind us of the schools of the philosophers, and their disputations? In the first place, these belong not to Rome, but to Greece; and even if we yield to them that they are now Roman, because Greece itself has become a Roman province, still the teachings of the philosophers are not the commandments of the gods, but the discoveries of men, who, at the prompting of their own speculative ability, made efforts to discover the hidden laws of nature, and the right and wrong in ethics, and in dialectic what was consequent according to the rules of logic, and what was inconsequent and erroneous. And some of them, by God's help, made great discoveries; but when left to themselves they were betrayed by human infirmity, and fell into mistakes. And this was ordered by divine providence, that their pride might be restrained, and that by their example it might be pointed out that it is humility which has access to the highest regions. But of this we shall have more to say, if the Lord God of truth permit, in its own place.⁹² However, if the philosophers have made any discoveries which are sufficient to guide men to virtue and blessedness, would it not have been greater justice to vote divine honours to them? Were it not more accordant with every virtuous sentiment to read Plato's writings in a "Temple of Plato," than to be present in the temples of devils to witness the priests of Cybele⁹³ mutilating themselves, the effeminate being consecrated, the raving fanatics cutting themselves, and whatever other cruel or shameful, or shamefully cruel or cruelly shameful, ceremony is enjoined by the ritual of such gods as these? Were it not a more suitable education, and more likely to prompt the youth to virtue, if they heard public recitals of the laws of the gods, instead of the vain laudation of the customs and laws of their ancestors? Certainly all the worshippers of the Roman gods, when once they are possessed by what Persius calls "the burning poison of lust,"⁹⁴ prefer to witness the deeds of Jupiter rather than to hear what Plato taught or Cato censured. Hence the young profligate in Terence, when he sees on the wall a fresco representing the fabled descent of Jupiter into the lap of Danaë in the form of a golden shower, accepts this as authoritative precedent for his own licentiousness, and boasts that he is an imitator of God. "And what God?" he says. "He who with His thunder shakes the loftiest temples. And was I, a poor creature compared to Him, to make bones of it? No; I did it, and with all my heart."⁹⁵

But perhaps they will remind us of the schools of the philosophers and their debates. First, these belong not to Rome, but to Greece. Even if we grant that they are now Roman, since Greece has become a Roman province, the philosophers’ teachings are not commandments from the gods. They are human discoveries. Using their own powers of thought, philosophers tried to uncover nature’s hidden laws and distinguish right from wrong in ethics. They also studied logic, seeking to distinguish valid conclusions from those that were invalid and mistaken. Some of them made great discoveries with God’s help. But when left to themselves, they were led astray by human weakness and fell into error. Divine providence ordered this to restrain their pride. Their example also shows that humility gives access to the highest realms. We will say more about this in its proper place, if the Lord God of truth permits.⁹² But if the philosophers discovered enough to guide people to virtue and happiness, would it not be fairer to grant them divine honors? Would it not be more fitting for anyone with virtuous feelings to read Plato’s writings in a "Temple of Plato"? That would be better than attending the temples of demons to watch the priests of Cybele⁹³ mutilate themselves, effeminate men being consecrated, and raving fanatics cutting themselves. There are also other cruel or shameful ceremonies prescribed by the rituals of such gods. Some are shamefully cruel, and others are cruelly shameful. Would it not be a more suitable education, and more likely to lead young people to virtue, to hear public readings of the gods’ laws? That would be better than hearing empty praise of their ancestors’ customs and laws. Certainly, all worshippers of the Roman gods, once possessed by what Persius calls "the burning poison of lust,"⁹⁴ prefer watching the deeds of Jupiter to hearing what Plato taught or what Cato condemned. This is why the young libertine in Terence sees a fresco on a wall depicting a story about Jupiter. It shows Jupiter descending into Danaë’s lap in the form of a shower of gold. The young man takes this as an authoritative example for his own immoral behavior and boasts that he is imitating a god. "And what God?" he says. "He who with his thunder shakes the loftiest temples. And was I, a poor creature compared to him, to make bones of it? No; I did it, and with all my heart."⁹⁵

8. That the theatrical exhibitions publishing the shameful actions of the gods, propitiated rather than offended them.

8. The theatrical shows that revealed the gods' shameful actions pleased them rather than offended them.

But, some one will interpose, these are the fables of poets, not the deliverances of the gods themselves. Well, I have no mind to arbitrate between the lewdness of theatrical entertainments and of mystic rites; only this I say, and history bears me out in making the assertion, that those same entertainments, in which the fictions of poets are the main attraction, were not introduced in the festivals of the gods by the ignorant devotion of the Romans, but that the gods themselves gave the most urgent commands to this effect, and indeed extorted from the Romans these solemnities and celebrations in their honour. I touched on this in the preceding book, and mentioned that dramatic entertainments were first inaugurated at Rome on occasion of a pestilence, and by authority of the pontiff. And what man is there who is not more likely to adopt, for the regulation of his own life, the examples that are represented in plays which have a divine sanction, rather than the precepts written and promulgated with no more than human authority? If the poets gave a false representation of Jove in describing him as adulterous, then it were to be expected that the chaste gods should in anger avenge so wicked a fiction, in place of encouraging the games which circulated it. Of these plays, the most inoffensive are comedies and tragedies, that is to say, the dramas which poets write for the stage, and which, though they often handle impure subjects, yet do so without the filthiness of language which characterizes many other performances; and it is these dramas which boys are obliged by their seniors to read and learn as a part of what is called a liberal and gentlemanly education.⁹⁶

But someone may object that these are poets’ fables, not statements from the gods themselves. I do not intend to judge whether theatrical entertainments or sacred rites are more indecent. I say only this, and history supports me. The Romans did not introduce these entertainments into the gods’ festivals out of ignorant devotion. The gods themselves urgently commanded them. Indeed, they forced the Romans to hold these solemn ceremonies and celebrations in their honor. I mentioned this in the previous book. I noted that dramatic performances were first introduced in Rome during a plague, by the authority of the pontiff. Surely people are more likely to follow examples shown in plays approved by the gods. They are less likely to follow rules written and proclaimed with only human authority. If the poets falsely portrayed Jove as an adulterer, the chaste gods should have been angry. We would expect them to punish such a wicked fiction, not encourage the games that spread it. The least offensive of these plays are comedies and tragedies, the dramas poets write for the stage. Although they often deal with impure subjects, they avoid the filthy language found in many other performances. Yet these are the dramas that boys’ elders make them read and learn. They are considered part of what is called a liberal education fit for a gentleman.⁹⁶

9. That the poetical licence which the Greeks, in obedience to their gods, allowed, was restrained by the ancient Romans.

9. The ancient Romans restricted the freedom poets enjoyed among the Greeks, who allowed it in obedience to their gods.

The opinion of the ancient Romans on this matter is attested by Cicero in his work De Republica, in which Scipio, one of the interlocutors, says, "The lewdness of comedy could never have been suffered by audiences, unless the customs of society had previously sanctioned the same lewdness." And in the earlier days the Greeks preserved a certain reasonableness in their licence, and made it a law, that whatever comedy wished to say of any one, it must say it of him by name. And so in the same work of Cicero's, Scipio says, "Whom has it not aspersed? Nay, whom has it not worried? Whom has it spared? Allow that it may assail demagogues and factions, men injurious to the commonwealth—a Cleon, a Cleophon, a Hyperbolus. That is tolerable, though it had been more seemly for the public censor to brand such men, than for a poet to lampoon them; but to blacken the fame of Pericles with scurrilous verse, after he had with the utmost dignity presided over their state alike in war and in peace, was as unworthy of a poet, as if our own Plautus or Nævius were to bring Publius and Cneius Scipio on the comic stage, or as if Cæcilius were to caricature Cato." And then a little after he goes on: "Though our Twelve Tables attached the penalty of death only to a very few offences, yet among these few this was one: if any man should have sung a pasquinade, or have composed a satire calculated to bring infamy or disgrace on another person. Wisely decreed. For it is by the decisions of magistrates, and by a well-informed justice, that our lives ought to be judged, and not by the flighty fancies of poets; neither ought we to be exposed to hear calumnies, save where we have the liberty of replying, and defending ourselves before an adequate tribunal." This much I have judged it advisable to quote from the fourth book of Cicero's De Republica; and I have made the quotation word for word, with the exception of some words omitted, and some slightly transposed, for the sake of giving the sense more readily. And certainly the extract is pertinent to the matter I am endeavouring to explain. Cicero makes some further remarks, and concludes the passage by showing that the ancient Romans did not permit any living man to be either praised or blamed on the stage. But the Greeks, as I said, though not so moral, were more logical in allowing this licence which the Romans forbade: for they saw that their gods approved and enjoyed the scurrilous language of low comedy when directed not only against men, but even against themselves; and this, whether the infamous actions imputed to them were the fictions of poets, or were their actual iniquities commemorated and acted in the theatres. And would that the spectators had judged them worthy only of laughter, and not of imitation! Manifestly it had been a stretch of pride to spare the good name of the leading men and the common citizens, when the very deities did not grudge that their own reputation should be blemished.

Cicero records what the ancient Romans thought about this matter in his work De Republica. There Scipio, one of the speakers, says, "Audiences could never have tolerated the obscenity of comedy unless society had already accepted the same obscenity in its customs." In earlier times, the Greeks kept a certain logic in their freedom. They made a law that comedy must name anyone it wished to speak about. So, in the same work by Cicero, Scipio says, "Whom has comedy not slandered? Indeed, whom has it not harassed? Whom has it spared? Let us allow it to attack demagogues and factions, people who harm the commonwealth, such as Cleon, Cleophon, and Hyperbolus. That is tolerable, though it would have been more fitting for the public censor to condemn them than for a poet to mock them. But Pericles had governed their state with the utmost dignity, both in war and in peace. To stain his reputation with abusive verse was unworthy of a poet. It would be like our own Plautus or Nævius putting Publius and Cneius Scipio on the comic stage, or Cæcilius making a caricature of Cato." A little later, he continues: "Our Twelve Tables imposed the death penalty for only a very few offenses. Yet one of those few was singing a lampoon or composing a satire intended to bring another person into shame or disgrace. This was a wise law. Our lives should be judged by the decisions of magistrates and by well-informed justice, not by the whims of poets. Nor should we have to listen to false accusations unless we are free to answer and defend ourselves before a proper court." I thought it useful to quote this much from the fourth book of Cicero's De Republica. I have quoted it word for word, except for omitting some words and slightly rearranging others to make the meaning clearer. The passage is certainly relevant to what I am trying to explain. Cicero adds further remarks and concludes by showing that the ancient Romans did not allow any living person to be praised or blamed on the stage. But the Greeks, as I said, were less moral and yet more consistent in allowing the freedom the Romans forbade. They saw that their gods approved of and enjoyed the abusive language of low comedy. It was directed not only at human beings but even at the gods themselves. This was true whether the shameful acts attributed to them were poets' inventions or their actual wrongs, remembered and acted out in the theaters. If only the spectators had thought these acts worthy of laughter alone, rather than imitation! Clearly, it would have been an act of arrogance to protect the reputations of leading men and ordinary citizens when the gods themselves did not object to having their own reputations stained.

10. That the devils, in suffering either false or true crimes to be laid to their charge, meant to do men a mischief.

10. How the devils intended to harm people by allowing themselves to be accused of crimes, whether true or false.

It is alleged, in excuse of this practice, that the stories told of the gods are not true, but false, and mere inventions; but this only makes matters worse, if we form our estimate by the morality our religion teaches; and if we consider the malice of the devils, what more wily and astute artifice could they practise upon men? When a slander is uttered against a leading statesman of upright and useful life, is it not reprehensible in proportion to its untruth and groundlessness? What punishment, then, shall be sufficient when the gods are the objects of so wicked and outrageous an injustice? But the devils, whom these men repute gods, are content that even iniquities they are guiltless of should be ascribed to them, so long as they may entangle men's minds in the meshes of these opinions, and draw them on along with themselves to their predestinated punishment: whether such things were actually committed by the men whom these devils, delighting in human infatuation, cause to be worshipped as gods, and in whose stead they, by a thousand malign and deceitful artifices, substitute themselves, and so receive worship; or whether, though they were really the crimes of men, these wicked spirits gladly allowed them to be attributed to higher beings, that there might seem to be conveyed from heaven itself a sufficient sanction for the perpetration of shameful wickedness. The Greeks, therefore, seeing the character of the gods they served, thought that the poets should certainly not refrain from showing up human vices on the stage, either because they desired to be like their gods in this, or because they were afraid that, if they required for themselves a more unblemished reputation than they asserted for the gods, they might provoke them to anger.

Some excuse this practice by claiming that the stories about the gods are false and merely invented. But by the moral standards our religion teaches, this only makes matters worse. And when we consider the malice of devils, what more cunning trick could they play on people? Suppose someone slanders a leading statesman whose life is upright and useful. Is the slander not all the more blameworthy if it is false and baseless? What punishment, then, could be sufficient for such a wicked and outrageous injustice against the gods? But the devils whom these people regard as gods are content to be accused even of crimes they never committed. They do not mind, so long as they can trap people’s minds in these beliefs. In this way, they lead people with them to their appointed punishment. Perhaps these acts were committed by the men whom the devils cause people to worship as gods. The devils delight in human folly, and by countless malicious tricks they take these men’s places and receive worship. Or perhaps the crimes were indeed committed by men, but the wicked spirits gladly let people attribute them to higher beings. In this way, heaven itself would seem to give sufficient approval for shameful wickedness. The Greeks saw what kind of gods they served. They therefore thought poets certainly should not refrain from exposing human vices on the stage. Perhaps they wanted to be like their gods in this. Or perhaps they feared that the gods would be angry if people demanded a purer reputation for themselves than they claimed for the gods.

It was a part of this same reasonableness of the Greeks which induced them to bestow upon the actors of these same plays no inconsiderable civic honours. In the above-mentioned book of the De Republica, it is mentioned that Æschines, a very eloquent Athenian, who had been a tragic actor in his youth, became a statesman, and that the Athenians again and again sent another tragedian, Aristodemus, as their plenipotentiary to Philip. For they judged it unbecoming to condemn and treat as infamous persons those who were the chief actors in the scenic entertainments which they saw to be so pleasing to the gods. No doubt this was immoral of the Greeks, but there can be as little doubt they acted in conformity with the character of their gods; for how could they have presumed to protect the conduct of the citizens from being cut to pieces by the tongues of poets and players, who were allowed, and even enjoined by the gods, to tear their divine reputation to tatters? And how could they hold in contempt the men who acted in the theatres those dramas which, as they had ascertained, gave pleasure to the gods whom they worshipped? Nay, how could they but grant to them the highest civic honours? On what plea could they honour the priests who offered for them acceptable sacrifices to the gods, if they branded with infamy the actors who in behalf of the people gave to the gods that pleasure or honour which they demanded, and which, according to the account of the priests, they were angry at not receiving? Labeo,⁹⁷ whose learning makes him an authority on such points, is of opinion that the distinction between good and evil deities should find expression in a difference of worship; that the evil should be propitiated by bloody sacrifices and doleful rites, but the good with a joyful and pleasant observance, as, e.g. (as he says himself), with plays, festivals, and banquets.⁹⁸ All this we shall, with God's help, hereafter discuss. At present, and speaking to the subject on hand, whether all kinds of offerings are made indiscriminately to all the gods, as if all were good (and it is an unseemly thing to conceive that there are evil gods; but these gods of the pagans are all evil, because they are not gods, but evil spirits), or whether, as Labeo thinks, a distinction is made between the offerings presented to the different gods, the Greeks are equally justified in honouring alike the priests by whom the sacrifices are offered, and the players by whom the dramas are acted, that they may not be open to the charge of doing an injury to all their gods, if the plays are pleasing to all of them, or (which were still worse) to their good gods, if the plays are relished only by them.

This same Greek reasoning led them to grant considerable civic honors to the actors in these plays. The book of De Republica mentioned above tells of Æschines, a very eloquent Athenian. He had acted in tragedies as a young man and later became a statesman. It also says that the Athenians repeatedly sent another tragic actor, Aristodemus, to Philip as their ambassador with full authority. The Greeks thought it improper to condemn and disgrace the leading actors in the plays. They could see that these entertainments were very pleasing to the gods. The Greeks were undoubtedly wrong to do this. But they were just as undoubtedly acting in keeping with the character of their gods. How could they presume to protect citizens’ conduct from attack by the tongues of poets and actors? The gods allowed these performers, and even commanded them, to tear their divine reputations to pieces. How could the Greeks despise the men who performed plays that they knew pleased the gods they worshipped? Indeed, how could they do anything but grant them the highest civic honors? On what grounds could they honor the priests who offered acceptable sacrifices to the gods on their behalf? They could hardly do so while disgracing the actors who gave the gods the pleasure or honor they demanded on the people’s behalf. According to the priests, the gods were angry when they did not receive it. Labeo,⁹⁷ whose learning makes him an authority on such matters, thinks that good and evil deities should be worshipped differently. In his view, evil deities should be appeased with bloody sacrifices and mournful rites. Good deities, he says, should be honored with joyful and pleasant observances, such as plays, festivals, and banquets.⁹⁸ With God’s help, we shall discuss all this later. For now, let us return to the matter at hand. Perhaps every kind of offering is made to all the gods alike, as though they were all good. It is improper to suppose that there are evil gods. Yet these pagan gods are all evil, because they are not gods but evil spirits. Or perhaps, as Labeo thinks, different offerings are made to different gods. Either way, the Greeks are equally justified in honoring both the priests who offer sacrifices and the actors who perform plays. If the plays please all the gods, the Greeks would otherwise be guilty of offending them all. If the plays please only the good gods, the Greeks would be guilty of the still worse offense of offending those gods.

The Romans, however, as Scipio boasts in that same discussion, declined having their conduct and good name subjected to the assaults and slanders of the poets, and went so far as to make it a capital crime if any one should dare to compose such verses. This was a very honourable course to pursue, so far as they themselves were concerned, but in respect of the gods it was proud and irreligious: for they knew that the gods not only tolerated, but relished, being lashed by the injurious expressions of the poets, and yet they themselves would not suffer this same handling; and what their ritual prescribed as acceptable to the gods, their law prohibited as injurious to themselves. How then, Scipio, do you praise the Romans for refusing this licence to the poets, so that no citizen could be calumniated, while you know that the gods were not included under this protection? Do you count your senate-house worthy of so much higher a regard than the Capitol? Is the one city of Rome more valuable in your eyes than the whole heaven of gods, that you prohibit your poets from uttering any injurious words against a citizen, though they may with impunity cast what imputations they please upon the gods, without the interference of senator, censor, prince, or pontiff? It was, forsooth, intolerable that Plautus or Nævius should attack Publius and Cneius Scipio, insufferable that Cæcilius should lampoon Cato; but quite proper that your Terence should encourage youthful lust by the wicked example of supreme Jove.

Yet, as Scipio boasts in the same discussion, the Romans refused to let poets attack and slander their conduct and reputation. They even made it a capital crime to write such verses. This was an honorable policy as far as they themselves were concerned. But toward the gods, it was arrogant and irreligious. The Romans knew that the gods not only tolerated the poets’ insults but enjoyed them. Yet they themselves would not endure the same treatment. Their religious rites prescribed as pleasing to the gods what their law forbade as harmful to themselves. How then, Scipio, can you praise the Romans for denying poets this freedom, so that no citizen could be slandered? You know that the gods were not given the same protection. Do you think your senate-house deserves so much more respect than the Capitol? Is the city of Rome alone more valuable to you than all the gods in heaven? You forbid poets to insult a citizen. Yet they may freely make any accusations they please against the gods. No senator, censor, ruler, or priest interferes. Apparently, it was intolerable for Plautus or Naevius to attack Publius and Gnaeus Scipio. It was unbearable for Caecilius to mock Cato. But it was perfectly proper for your Terence to encourage youthful lust through the wicked example of supreme Jove.

But Scipio, were he alive, would possibly reply: "How could we attach a penalty to that which the gods themselves have consecrated? For the theatrical entertainments in which such things are said, and acted, and performed, were introduced into Roman society by the gods, who ordered that they should be dedicated and exhibited in their honour." But was not this, then, the plainest proof that they were no true gods, nor in any respect worthy of receiving divine honours from the republic? Suppose they had required that in their honour the citizens of Rome should be held up to ridicule, every Roman would have resented the hateful proposal. How then, I would ask, can they be esteemed worthy of worship, when they propose that their own crimes be used as material for celebrating their praises? Does not this artifice expose them, and prove that they are detestable devils? Thus the Romans, though they were superstitious enough to serve as gods those who made no secret of their desire to be worshipped in licentious plays, yet had sufficient regard to their hereditary dignity and virtue, to prompt them to refuse to players any such rewards as the Greeks accorded them. On this point we have this testimony of Scipio, recorded in Cicero: "They [the Romans] considered comedy and all theatrical performances as disgraceful, and therefore not only debarred players from offices and honours open to ordinary citizens, but also decreed that their names should be branded by the censor, and erased from the roll of their tribe." An excellent decree, and another testimony to the sagacity of Rome; but I could wish their prudence had been more thoroughgoing and consistent. For when I hear that if any Roman citizen chose the stage as his profession, he not only closed to himself every laudable career, but even became an outcast from his own tribe, I cannot but exclaim: This is the true Roman spirit, this is worthy of a state jealous of its reputation. But then some one interrupts my rapture, by inquiring with what consistency players are debarred from all honours, while plays are counted among the honours due to the gods? For a long while the virtue of Rome was uncontaminated by theatrical exhibitions;⁹⁹ and if they had been adopted for the sake of gratifying the taste of the citizens, they would have been introduced hand in hand with the relaxation of manners. But the fact is, that it was the gods who demanded that they should be exhibited to gratify them. With what justice, then, is the player excommunicated by whom God is worshipped? On what pretext can you at once adore him who exacts, and brand him who acts these plays? This, then, is the controversy in which the Greeks and Romans are engaged. The Greeks think they justly honour players, because they worship the gods who demand plays: the Romans, on the other hand, do not suffer an actor to disgrace by his name his own plebeian tribe, far less the senatorial order. And the whole of this discussion may be summed up in the following syllogism. The Greeks give us the major premiss: If such gods are to be worshipped, then certainly such men may be honoured. The Romans add the minor: But such men must by no means be honoured. The Christians draw the conclusion: Therefore such gods must by no means be worshipped.

But if Scipio were alive, he might reply: "How could we punish something that the gods themselves have made sacred? The gods introduced theatrical entertainments into Roman society. They ordered that these performances, with their words and actions, be dedicated and presented in their honor." But was this not the clearest proof that they were not true gods? Were they not entirely unworthy of divine honors from the republic? Suppose they had demanded that Roman citizens be mocked in their honor. Every Roman would have resented the hateful proposal. How, then, can they be considered worthy of worship when they offer their own crimes as material for praising them? Does this trick not expose them and prove that they are detestable devils? The Romans were superstitious enough to serve as gods those who openly desired worship through indecent plays. Yet they respected the dignity and virtue inherited from their ancestors. So they refused to give actors the rewards the Greeks gave them. On this point, Cicero records Scipio's testimony: "The Romans considered comedy and all theatrical performances disgraceful. Therefore they not only barred actors from the offices and honors open to ordinary citizens. They also decreed that the censor should mark their names with disgrace and erase them from their tribal register." This was an excellent decree and another sign of Roman wisdom. But I wish their judgment had been more thorough and consistent. If a Roman citizen chose acting as his profession, he lost access to every honorable career. He even became an outcast from his own tribe. When I hear this, I cannot help exclaiming: This is the true Roman spirit. This is worthy of a state that guards its reputation. But then someone interrupts my delight with a question. How is it consistent to bar actors from all honors while counting plays among the honors owed to the gods? For a long time, Rome's virtue remained untainted by theatrical performances.⁹⁹ If plays had been adopted to satisfy the citizens' tastes, they would have appeared alongside declining standards of conduct. But in fact, the gods demanded that plays be performed to please them. How, then, is it just to exclude the actor through whom God is worshipped? How can you justify worshipping the one who demands these plays while disgracing the one who performs them? This, then, is the dispute between the Greeks and the Romans. The Greeks think they are right to honor actors because they worship the gods who demand plays. The Romans, on the other hand, will not allow an actor's name to disgrace even his own commoners' tribe, much less the senatorial order. The whole argument can be summed up as follows. The Greeks provide the major premise: If such gods are to be worshipped, then surely such men may be honored. The Romans add the minor premise: But such men must by no means be honored. The Christians draw the conclusion: Therefore such gods must by no means be worshipped.

14. That Plato, who excluded poets from a well-ordered city, was better than these gods who desire to be honoured by theatrical plays.

14. Plato, who excluded poets from a well-ordered city, was better than these gods who want to be honored with plays.

We have still to inquire why the poets who write the plays, and who by the law of the twelve tables are prohibited from injuring the good name of the citizens, are reckoned more estimable than the actors, though they so shamefully asperse the character of the gods? Is it right that the actors of these poetical and God-dishonouring effusions be branded, while their authors are honoured? Must we not here award the palm to a Greek, Plato, who, in framing his ideal republic,¹⁰⁰ conceived that poets should be banished from the city as enemies of the state? He could not brook that the gods be brought into disrepute, nor that the minds of the citizens be depraved and besotted, by the fictions of the poets. Compare now human nature as you see it in Plato, expelling poets from the city that the citizens be uninjured, with the divine nature as you see it in these gods exacting plays in their own honour. Plato strove, though unsuccessfully, to persuade the light-minded and lascivious Greeks to abstain from so much as writing such plays; the gods used their authority to extort the acting of the same from the dignified and sober-minded Romans. And not content with having them acted, they had them dedicated to themselves, consecrated to themselves, solemnly celebrated in their own honour. To which, then, would it be more becoming in a state to decree divine honours,—to Plato, who prohibited these wicked and licentious plays, or to the demons who delighted in blinding men to the truth of what Plato unsuccessfully sought to inculcate?

We still need to ask why playwrights are considered more respectable than actors. The Law of the Twelve Tables forbids playwrights from damaging citizens’ reputations. Yet they shamefully slander the character of the gods. Is it right to disgrace the actors who perform these poetic works that dishonor the gods, while honoring their authors? Should we not give the prize to a Greek, Plato? In designing his ideal republic,¹⁰⁰ he decided that poets should be banished from the city as enemies of the state. He could not tolerate poets’ stories bringing the gods into disrepute. Nor could he tolerate their stories corrupting and dulling the minds of citizens. Now compare human nature, as you see it in Plato, with divine nature, as you see it in these gods. Plato expelled poets from the city to protect its citizens. The gods demanded plays in their own honor. Plato tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade the frivolous and lustful Greeks not even to write such plays. The gods used their authority to force the dignified and sober-minded Romans to perform them. They were not content merely to have them performed. They had the plays dedicated and consecrated to themselves, and solemnly performed in their honor. Which, then, would it be more fitting for a state to grant divine honors to? Plato, who prohibited these wicked and indecent plays? Or the demons, who delighted in blinding people to the truth Plato tried unsuccessfully to teach?

This philosopher, Plato, has been elevated by Labeo to the rank of a demigod, and set thus upon a level with such as Hercules and Romulus. Labeo ranks demigods higher than heroes, but both he counts among the deities. But I have no doubt that he thinks this man whom he reckons a demigod worthy of greater respect not only than the heroes, but also than the gods themselves. The laws of the Romans and the speculations of Plato have this resemblance, that the latter pronounces a wholesale condemnation of poetical fictions, while the former restrain the licence of satire, at least so far as men are the objects of it. Plato will not suffer poets even to dwell in his city: the laws of Rome prohibit actors from being enrolled as citizens; and if they had not feared to offend the gods who had asked the services of the players, they would in all likelihood have banished them altogether. It is obvious, therefore, that the Romans could not receive, nor reasonably expect to receive, laws for the regulation of their conduct from their gods, since the laws they themselves enacted far surpassed and put to shame the morality of the gods. The gods demand stage-plays in their own honour; the Romans exclude the players from all civic honours:¹⁰¹ the former commanded that they should be celebrated by the scenic representation of their own disgrace; the latter commanded that no poet should dare to blemish the reputation of any citizen. But that demigod Plato resisted the lust of such gods as these, and showed the Romans what their genius had left incomplete; for he absolutely excluded poets from his ideal state, whether they composed fictions with no regard to truth, or set the worst possible examples before wretched men under the guise of divine actions. We for our part, indeed, reckon Plato neither a god nor a demigod; we would not even compare him to any of God's holy angels, nor to the truth-speaking prophets, nor to any of the apostles or martyrs of Christ, nay, not to any faithful Christian man. The reason of this opinion of ours we will, God prospering us, render in its own place. Nevertheless, since they wish him to be considered a demigod, we think he certainly is more entitled to that rank, and is every way superior, if not to Hercules and Romulus (though no historian could ever narrate nor any poet sing of him that he had killed his brother, or committed any crime), yet certainly to Priapus, or a Cynocephalus,¹⁰² or the Fever,¹⁰³—divinities whom the Romans have partly received from foreigners, and partly consecrated by home-grown rites. How, then, could gods such as these be expected to promulgate good and wholesome laws, either for the prevention of moral and social evils, or for their eradication where they had already sprung up?—gods who used their influence even to sow and cherish profligacy, by appointing that deeds truly or falsely ascribed to them should be published to the people by means of theatrical exhibitions, and by thus gratuitously fanning the flame of human lust with the breath of a seemingly divine approbation. In vain does Cicero, speaking of poets, exclaim against this state of things in these words: "When the plaudits and acclamation of the people, who sit as infallible judges, are won by the poets, what darkness benights the mind, what fears invade, what passions inflame it!"¹⁰⁴

Labeo has elevated the philosopher Plato to the rank of a demigod, placing him alongside figures such as Hercules and Romulus. Labeo ranks demigods above heroes, but counts both among the gods. Yet I have no doubt that he considers Plato worthy of greater respect than the heroes and even the gods themselves. Roman laws and Plato’s thought have this in common. Plato condemns poetic fiction altogether, while Roman laws restrict the freedom of satire, at least when it targets people. Plato does not allow poets even to live in his city. Roman laws forbid actors to be registered as citizens. If the Romans had not feared offending the gods who demanded the services of actors, they would probably have banished them altogether. Clearly, then, the Romans could not receive laws governing their conduct from their gods, nor reasonably expect to. The laws they made themselves were far better than the gods’ morals and put them to shame. The gods demand plays in their honor. The Romans exclude actors from all civic honors.¹⁰¹ The gods commanded that plays depicting their own shameful deeds should celebrate them. The Romans commanded that no poet should dare damage any citizen’s reputation. But that demigod Plato resisted the desires of such gods. He showed the Romans what their own genius had left unfinished. He excluded poets altogether from his ideal state, whether they invented stories without regard for truth or presented the worst possible examples to wretched people as the actions of gods. For our part, we count Plato as neither a god nor a demigod. We would not even compare him to any of God’s holy angels, or to the prophets who spoke the truth. Nor would we compare him to any apostle or martyr of Christ, or even to any faithful Christian. We will explain our reasons for this view in due course, if God grants us success. Nevertheless, since they want him to be considered a demigod, we think he is certainly more worthy of that rank. Even if he is not in every way superior to Hercules and Romulus, he is certainly superior to Priapus, a Cynocephalus,¹⁰² or the Fever.¹⁰³ Yet no historian could ever tell, and no poet sing, that Plato killed his brother or committed any crime. The Romans received some of these gods from foreigners and consecrated others through their own rites. How, then, could such gods be expected to issue good and sound laws? How could they prevent moral and social evils, or root them out once they had arisen? These gods used their influence to plant and nurture immorality. They ordered that deeds attributed to them, whether truly or falsely, be shown to the people in plays. In this way, they needlessly fanned the flames of human desire with what seemed to be divine approval. Cicero protests against this in vain when he says of poets: “When poets win the applause and cheers of the people, who sit as infallible judges, what darkness falls on the mind, what fears invade it, and what passions inflame it!”¹⁰⁴

15. That it was vanity, not reason, which created some of the Roman gods.

15. Vanity, not reason, created some of the Roman gods.

But is it not manifest that vanity rather than reason regulated the choice of some of their false gods? This Plato, whom they reckon a demigod, and who used all his eloquence to preserve men from the most dangerous spiritual calamities, has yet not been counted worthy even of a little shrine; but Romulus, because they can call him their own, they have esteemed more highly than many gods, though their secret doctrine can allow him the rank only of a demigod. To him they allotted a flamen, that is to say, a priest of a class so highly esteemed in their religion (distinguished, too, by their conical mitres), that for only three of their gods were flamens appointed—the Flamen Dialis for Jupiter, Martialis for Mars, and Quirinalis for Romulus (for when the ardour of his fellow-citizens had given Romulus a seat among the gods, they gave him this new name Quirinus). And thus by this honour Romulus has been preferred to Neptune and Pluto, Jupiter's brothers, and to Saturn himself, their father. They have assigned the same priesthood to serve him as to serve Jove; and in giving Mars (the reputed father of Romulus) the same honour, is this not rather for Romulus' sake than to honour Mars?

But is it not clear that vanity, rather than reason, guided their choice of some false gods? Take Plato, whom they consider a demigod. He used all his eloquence to protect people from the most dangerous spiritual disasters. Yet they have not considered him worthy of even a small shrine. Romulus, however, is their own, and so they have honored him above many gods. Yet their secret doctrine allows him only the rank of a demigod. They assigned him a flamen, a priest of a highly respected class in their religion. These priests were also distinguished by their cone-shaped headdresses. Flamens were appointed for only three of their gods. The Flamen Dialis served Jupiter, the Flamen Martialis served Mars, and the Flamen Quirinalis served Romulus. His fellow citizens, in their enthusiasm, had given Romulus a place among the gods. They then gave him the new name Quirinus. By giving Romulus this honor, they have placed him above Neptune and Pluto, Jupiter's brothers, and even Saturn, their father. They have assigned the same kind of priest to serve him as to serve Jove. They also gave Mars, the supposed father of Romulus, the same honor. But was this not done for Romulus' sake rather than to honor Mars?

Moreover, if the Romans had been able to receive a rule of life from their gods, they would not have borrowed Solon's laws from the Athenians, as they did some years after Rome was founded; and yet they did not keep them as they received them, but endeavoured to improve and amend them.¹⁰⁵ Although Lycurgus pretended that he was authorized by Apollo to give laws to the Lacedemonians, the sensible Romans did not choose to believe this, and were not induced to borrow laws from Sparta. Numa Pompilius, who succeeded Romulus in the kingdom, is said to have framed some laws, which, however, were not sufficient for the regulation of civic affairs. Among these regulations were many pertaining to religious observances, and yet he is not reported to have received even these from the gods. With respect, then, to moral evils, evils of life and conduct,—evils which are so mighty, that, according to the wisest pagans,¹⁰⁶ by them states are ruined while their cities stand uninjured,—their gods made not the smallest provision for preserving their worshippers from these evils, but, on the contrary, took special pains to increase them, as we have previously endeavoured to prove.

Moreover, if the Romans could have received rules for living from their gods, they would not have borrowed Solon’s laws from Athens. They did this some years after Rome was founded. Even then, they did not keep the laws as they received them, but tried to improve and amend them.¹⁰⁵ Lycurgus claimed that Apollo had authorized him to give laws to the Spartans. But the sensible Romans chose not to believe him and did not borrow laws from Sparta. Numa Pompilius, who succeeded Romulus as king, is said to have made some laws. These, however, were not enough to govern civic affairs. Many of his rules concerned religious practices. Yet even these are not said to have come from the gods. Now consider moral evils, the evils of life and conduct. According to the wisest pagans,¹⁰⁶ these evils are so powerful that they ruin states even while their cities remain unharmed. Yet the gods did nothing at all to protect their worshippers from them. On the contrary, they took special care to increase them, as we have previously tried to show.

17. Of the rape of the Sabine women, and other iniquities perpetrated in Rome's palmiest days.

17. The abduction of the Sabine women and other injustices committed during Rome's most prosperous days.

But possibly we are to find the reason for this neglect of the Romans by their gods, in the saying of Sallust, that "equity and virtue prevailed among the Romans not more by force of laws than of nature."¹⁰⁷ I presume it is to this inborn equity and goodness of disposition we are to ascribe the rape of the Sabine women. What, indeed, could be more equitable and virtuous, than to carry off by force, as each man was fit, and without their parents' consent, girls who were strangers and guests, and who had been decoyed and entrapped by the pretence of a spectacle! If the Sabines were wrong to deny their daughters when the Romans asked for them, was it not a greater wrong in the Romans to carry them off after that denial? The Romans might more justly have waged war against the neighbouring nation for having refused their daughters in marriage when they first sought them, than for having demanded them back when they had stolen them. War should have been proclaimed at first: it was then that Mars should have helped his warlike son, that he might by force of arms avenge the injury done him by the refusal of marriage, and might also thus win the women he desired. There might have been some appearance of "right of war" in a victor carrying off, in virtue of this right, the virgins who had been without any show of right denied him; whereas there was no "right of peace" entitling him to carry off those who were not given to him, and to wage an unjust war with their justly enraged parents. One happy circumstance was indeed connected with this act of violence, viz., that though it was commemorated by the games of the circus, yet even this did not constitute it a precedent in the city or realm of Rome. If one would find fault with the results of this act, it must rather be on the ground that the Romans made Romulus a god in spite of his perpetrating this iniquity; for one cannot reproach them with making this deed any kind of precedent for the rape of women.

Perhaps the reason the gods neglected the Romans lies in Sallust’s saying. He said that “fairness and virtue prevailed among the Romans as much by nature as by force of law.”¹⁰⁷ I suppose we must credit this inborn fairness and goodness for the rape of the Sabine women. What could be fairer or more virtuous than carrying off young women by force, each man taking whomever he could? They were strangers and guests, lured into a trap by the promise of a spectacle. And their parents had not consented. If the Sabines were wrong to refuse their daughters when the Romans asked for them, were the Romans not even more wrong to carry them off after that refusal? The Romans would have had more reason to wage war against their neighbors for first refusing their daughters in marriage. Instead, they fought them for demanding their daughters back after they had been stolen. War should have been declared at the beginning. Then Mars should have helped his warlike son avenge the refusal of marriage by force of arms. In this way, he might also have won the women he desired. A victor carrying off young women who had been denied to him without any apparent right might seem justified by the “right of war.” But no “right of peace” entitled him to carry off women who had not been given to him. Nor did it entitle him to wage an unjust war against their justly enraged parents. There was indeed one fortunate thing about this act of violence. Although it was commemorated in the games of the circus, it did not become a precedent in the city or realm of Rome. If anyone finds fault with what followed, it should be because the Romans made Romulus a god despite this wicked act. They cannot be reproached for making his deed a precedent of any kind for the rape of women.

Again, I presume it was due to this natural equity and virtue, that after the expulsion of King Tarquin, whose son had violated Lucretia, Junius Brutus the consul forced Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus, Lucretia's husband and his own colleague, a good and innocent man, to resign his office and go into banishment, on the one sole charge that he was of the name and blood of the Tarquins. This injustice was perpetrated with the approval, or at least connivance, of the people, who had themselves raised to the consular office both Collatinus and Brutus. Another instance of this equity and virtue is found in their treatment of Marcus Camillus. This eminent man, after he had rapidly conquered the Veians, at that time the most formidable of Rome's enemies, and who had maintained a ten years' war, in which the Roman army had suffered the usual calamities attendant on bad generalship, after he had restored security to Rome, which had begun to tremble for its safety, and after he had taken the wealthiest city of the enemy, had charges brought against him by the malice of those that envied his success, and by the insolence of the tribunes of the people; and seeing that the city bore him no gratitude for preserving it, and that he would certainly be condemned, he went into exile, and even in his absence was fined 10,000 asses. Shortly after, however, his ungrateful country had again to seek his protection from the Gauls. But I cannot now mention all the shameful and iniquitous acts with which Rome was agitated, when the aristocracy attempted to subject the people, and the people resented their encroachments, and the advocates of either party were actuated rather by the love of victory than by any equitable or virtuous consideration.

Again, I suppose it was because of this natural fairness and virtue that the consul Junius Brutus forced Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus to resign and go into exile. This happened after King Tarquin had been expelled because his son had violated Lucretia. Collatinus was Lucretia’s husband and Brutus’s fellow consul. He was a good and innocent man, accused only of bearing the Tarquin name and being related to the family. The people approved this injustice, or at least allowed it. Yet they themselves had elected both Collatinus and Brutus as consuls. Another example of this fairness and virtue is their treatment of Marcus Camillus. This distinguished man swiftly defeated the Veians, then Rome’s most formidable enemies. The Veians had waged war for ten years, during which the Roman army had suffered the usual disasters caused by poor leadership. Rome had begun to fear for its safety, but Camillus restored its security and captured the enemy’s wealthiest city. Then those who envied his success maliciously brought charges against him, as did the arrogant tribunes of the people. He saw that the city felt no gratitude for his saving it and that he would certainly be condemned. So he went into exile, and even in his absence he was fined 10,000 asses. Soon afterward, however, his ungrateful country again had to seek his protection against the Gauls. But I cannot now list all the shameful and unjust acts that troubled Rome. The aristocracy tried to subject the people, and the people resisted their encroachments. The supporters of both sides were driven more by a desire for victory than by any concern for fairness or virtue.

I will therefore pause, and adduce the testimony of Sallust himself, whose words in praise of the Romans (that "equity and virtue prevailed among them not more by force of laws than of nature") have given occasion to this discussion. He was referring to that period immediately after the expulsion of the kings, in which the city became great in an incredibly short space of time. And yet this same writer acknowledges in the first book of his history, in the very exordium of his work, that even at that time, when a very brief interval had elapsed after the government had passed from kings to consuls, the more powerful men began to act unjustly, and occasioned the defection of the people from the patricians, and other disorders in the city. For after Sallust had stated that the Romans enjoyed greater harmony and a purer state of society between the second and third Punic wars than at any other time, and that the cause of this was not their love of good order, but their fear lest the peace they had with Carthage might be broken (this also, as we mentioned, Nasica contemplated when he opposed the destruction of Carthage, for he supposed that fear would tend to repress wickedness, and to preserve wholesome ways of living), he then goes on to say: "Yet, after the destruction of Carthage, discord, avarice, ambition, and the other vices which are commonly generated by prosperity, more than ever increased." If they "increased," and that "more than ever," then already they had appeared, and had been increasing. And so Sallust adds this reason for what he said. "For," he says, "the oppressive measures of the powerful, and the consequent secessions of the plebs from the patricians, and other civil dissensions, had existed from the first, and affairs were administered with equity and well-tempered justice for no longer a period than the short time after the expulsion of the kings, while the city was occupied with the serious Tuscan war and Tarquin's vengeance." You see how, even in that brief period after the expulsion of the kings, fear, he acknowledges, was the cause of the interval of equity and good order. They were afraid, in fact, of the war which Tarquin waged against them, after he had been driven from the throne and the city, and had allied himself with the Tuscans. But observe what he adds: "After that, the patricians treated the people as their slaves, ordering them to be scourged or beheaded just as the kings had done, driving them from their holdings, and harshly tyrannizing over those who had no property to lose. The people, overwhelmed by these oppressive measures, and most of all by exorbitant usury, and obliged to contribute both money and personal service to the constant wars, at length took arms, and seceded to Mount Aventine and Mount Sacer, and thus obtained for themselves tribunes and protective laws. But it was only the second Punic war that put an end on both sides to discord and strife." You see what kind of men the Romans were, even so early as a few years after the expulsion of the kings; and it is of these men he says, that "equity and virtue prevailed among them not more by force of law than of nature."

I will pause here and cite Sallust himself. His praise of the Romans prompted this discussion. He said that “fairness and virtue prevailed among them as much by nature as by force of law.” He was speaking of the period immediately after the kings were driven out. During that time, the city became great with incredible speed. Yet in the very opening of the first book of his history, the same writer admits something else. Soon after rule passed from kings to consuls, powerful men began to act unjustly. Their actions caused the people to break away from the patricians and led to other disorders in the city. Sallust says that Roman society was more harmonious and morally sound between the Second and Third Punic Wars than ever before. He says this was not because the Romans loved good order. Rather, they feared that their peace with Carthage might be broken. As we mentioned, Nasica had the same concern when he opposed the destruction of Carthage. He thought that fear would help restrain wickedness and preserve healthy ways of life. Sallust then says, “Yet, after the destruction of Carthage, discord, greed, ambition, and the other vices commonly produced by prosperity increased more than ever.” If they “increased,” and “more than ever,” then they had already appeared and had been growing. Sallust adds a reason for his statement. He says, “For the oppression practiced by the powerful, the resulting secessions of the plebs from the patricians, and other civil conflicts had existed from the beginning. Affairs were managed with fairness and balanced justice only for the short time after the kings were driven out. Then the city was occupied with a serious war against the Tuscans and with Tarquin’s revenge.” You see that, even in that brief period after the kings were driven out, Sallust admits that fear produced fairness and good order. The Romans feared the war that Tarquin waged against them. He had been driven from the throne and the city, and had joined forces with the Tuscans. But notice what Sallust adds: “After that, the patricians treated the people as slaves. Just as the kings had done, they ordered them to be whipped or beheaded. They drove them from their lands and harshly tyrannized those who had no property to lose. The people were overwhelmed by this oppression, and most of all by excessive interest on debts. They also had to give both money and personal service to the constant wars. At last they took up arms and withdrew to Mount Aventine and Mount Sacer. In this way they gained tribunes and laws to protect them. But only the Second Punic War brought an end to discord and strife on both sides.” You see what kind of people the Romans were, even a few years after the kings were driven out. Yet these are the people of whom Sallust says that “fairness and virtue prevailed among them as much by nature as by force of law.”

Now, if these were the days in which the Roman republic shows fairest and best, what are we to say or think of the succeeding age, when, to use the words of the same historian, "changing little by little from the fair and virtuous city it was, it became utterly wicked and dissolute?" This was, as he mentions, after the destruction of Carthage. Sallust's brief sum and sketch of this period may be read in his own history, in which he shows how the profligate manners which were propagated by prosperity resulted at last even in civil wars. He says: "And from this time the primitive manners, instead of undergoing an insensible alteration as hitherto they had done, were swept away as by a torrent: the young men were so depraved by luxury and avarice, that it may justly be said that no father had a son who could either preserve his own patrimony, or keep his hands off other men's." Sallust adds a number of particulars about the vices of Sylla, and the debased condition of the republic in general; and other writers make similar observations, though in much less striking language.

If those were the days when the Roman republic was at its finest and best, what should we say or think about the age that followed? In the words of the same historian, Rome “changed little by little from the fair and virtuous city it was, until it became utterly wicked and corrupt.” As he notes, this happened after the destruction of Carthage. Sallust gives a brief account of this period in his history. He shows how the immoral behavior fostered by prosperity eventually led even to civil wars. He says: “From this time on, the old customs no longer changed gradually as they had before. They were swept away as if by a flood. Luxury and greed so corrupted the young men that it can fairly be said that no father had a son who could either preserve his own inheritance or keep his hands off other men’s property.” Sallust adds many details about the vices of Sylla and the degraded state of the republic as a whole. Other writers make similar observations, though in much less striking language.

However, I suppose you now see, or at least any one who gives his attention has the means of seeing, in what a sink of iniquity that city was plunged before the advent of our heavenly King. For these things happened not only before Christ had begun to teach, but before He was even born of the Virgin. If, then, they dare not impute to their gods the grievous evils of those former times, more tolerable before the destruction of Carthage, but intolerable and dreadful after it, although it was the gods who by their malign craft instilled into the minds of men the conceptions from which such dreadful vices branched out on all sides, why do they impute these present calamities to Christ, who teaches life-giving truth, and forbids us to worship false and deceitful gods, and who, abominating and condemning with His divine authority those wicked and hurtful lusts of men, gradually withdraws His own people from a world that is corrupted by these vices, and is falling into ruins, to make of them an eternal city, whose glory rests not on the acclamations of vanity, but on the judgment of truth?

I suppose you can now see how deeply that city had sunk into wickedness before our heavenly King came. At least, anyone who pays attention can see it. These things happened not only before Christ began to teach, but even before he was born of the Virgin. They dare not blame their gods for the terrible evils of those earlier times. Those evils were more bearable before Carthage was destroyed, but afterward they became unbearable and dreadful. Yet it was the gods who, through their malicious cunning, planted the ideas that gave rise to such dreadful vices everywhere. Why, then, do they blame our present calamities on Christ? He teaches life-giving truth and forbids us to worship false and deceitful gods. With his divine authority, he despises and condemns people's wicked and harmful desires. He gradually draws his own people out of a world corrupted by these vices and falling into ruin. He does this to make them into an eternal city, whose glory rests on the judgment of truth, not on empty praise.

19. Of the corruption which had grown upon the Roman republic before Christ abolished the worship of the gods.

19. The corruption that had spread through the Roman republic before Christ abolished the worship of the gods.

Here, then, is this Roman republic, "which has changed little by little from the fair and virtuous city it was, and has become utterly wicked and dissolute." It is not I who am the first to say this, but their own authors, from whom we learned it for a fee, and who wrote it long before the coming of Christ. You see how, before the coming of Christ, and after the destruction of Carthage, "the primitive manners, instead of undergoing insensible alteration, as hitherto they had done, were swept away as by a torrent; and how depraved by luxury and avarice the youth were." Let them now, on their part, read to us any laws given by their gods to the Roman people, and directed against luxury and avarice. And would that they had only been silent on the subjects of chastity and modesty, and had not demanded from the people indecent and shameful practices, to which they lent a pernicious patronage by their so-called divinity. Let them read our commandments in the Prophets, Gospels, Acts of the Apostles, or Epistles; let them peruse the large number of precepts against avarice and luxury which are everywhere read to the congregations that meet for this purpose, and which strike the ear, not with the uncertain sound of a philosophical discussion, but with the thunder of God's own oracle pealing from the clouds. And yet they do not impute to their gods the luxury and avarice, the cruel and dissolute manners, that had rendered the republic utterly wicked and corrupt, even before the coming of Christ; but whatever affliction their pride and effeminacy have exposed them to in these latter days, they furiously impute to our religion. If the kings of the earth and all their subjects, if all princes and judges of the earth, if young men and maidens, old and young, every age, and both sexes; if they whom the Baptist addressed, the publicans and the soldiers, were all together to hearken to and observe the precepts of the Christian religion regarding a just and virtuous life, then should the republic adorn the whole earth with its own felicity, and attain in life everlasting to the pinnacle of kingly glory. But because this man listens, and that man scoffs, and most are enamoured of the blandishments of vice rather than the wholesome severity of virtue, the people of Christ, whatever be their condition—whether they be kings, princes, judges, soldiers, or provincials, rich or poor, bond or free, male or female—are enjoined to endure this earthly republic, wicked and dissolute as it is, that so they may by this endurance win for themselves an eminent place in that most holy and august assembly of angels and republic of heaven, in which the will of God is the law.

Here, then, is the Roman republic. It “changed little by little from the fair and virtuous city it was, and became utterly wicked and corrupt.” I am not the first to say this. Their own authors said it, and we paid to learn it from them. They wrote long before Christ came. Before his coming, and after Carthage was destroyed, “the old ways no longer changed slowly, as they had before. They were swept away as if by a flood, and the young were corrupted by luxury and greed.” Let our opponents now read us any laws their gods gave the Roman people against luxury and greed. If only those gods had remained silent about chastity and modesty! Instead, they demanded indecent and shameful practices from the people. Their supposed divinity gave these practices harmful support. Let our opponents read our commandments in the Prophets, the Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, or the Epistles. Let them examine the many commands against greed and luxury. These are read everywhere to congregations gathered for that purpose. They reach the ear not as the uncertain sound of philosophical debate, but as the thunder of God's own word from the clouds. Yet our opponents do not blame their gods for the luxury, greed, cruelty, and loose morals that corrupted the republic. These had made it utterly wicked and corrupt even before Christ came. Instead, they angrily blame our religion for every hardship their pride and self-indulgence have brought upon them in recent times. Suppose the kings of the earth and all their subjects obeyed the Christian commands for a just and virtuous life. Suppose all princes and judges, young men and young women, the old and the young did the same. Suppose people of every age and both sexes obeyed them. Suppose, too, that the tax collectors and soldiers whom the Baptist addressed all listened and obeyed. Then the republic would bring the splendor of its happiness to the whole earth. In everlasting life, it would reach the highest glory of kingship. But one person listens, another mocks, and most love the attractions of vice more than virtue's healthy discipline. Therefore, Christ's people are commanded to endure this earthly republic, wicked and corrupt as it is. This applies to them whatever their condition. They may be kings, princes, judges, soldiers, or people living in the provinces. They may be rich or poor, enslaved or free, male or female. By enduring, they may win a distinguished place in the most holy and majestic assembly of angels. This is the republic of heaven, where God's will is the law.

20. Of the kind of happiness and life truly delighted in by those who inveigh against the Christian religion.

20. The kind of happiness and life that those who attack the Christian religion truly enjoy.

But the worshippers and admirers of these gods delight in imitating their scandalous iniquities, and are nowise concerned that the republic be less depraved and licentious. Only let it remain undefeated, they say, only let it flourish and abound in resources; let it be glorious by its victories, or still better, secure in peace; and what matters it to us? This is our concern, that every man be able to increase his wealth so as to supply his daily prodigalities, and so that the powerful may subject the weak for their own purposes. Let the poor court the rich for a living, and that under their protection they may enjoy a sluggish tranquillity; and let the rich abuse the poor as their dependants, to minister to their pride. Let the people applaud not those who protect their interests, but those who provide them with pleasure. Let no severe duty be commanded, no impurity forbidden. Let kings estimate their prosperity, not by the righteousness, but by the servility of their subjects. Let the provinces stand loyal to the kings, not as moral guides, but as lords of their possessions and purveyors of their pleasures; not with a hearty reverence, but a crooked and servile fear. Let the laws take cognizance rather of the injury done to another man's property, than of that done to one's own person. If a man be a nuisance to his neighbour, or injure his property, family, or person, let him be actionable; but in his own affairs let every one with impunity do what he will in company with his own family, and with those who willingly join him. Let there be a plentiful supply of public prostitutes for every one who wishes to use them, but specially for those who are too poor to keep one for their private use. Let there be erected houses of the largest and most ornate description: in these let there be provided the most sumptuous banquets, where every one who pleases may, by day or night, play, drink, vomit,¹⁰⁸ dissipate. Let there be everywhere heard the rustling of dancers, the loud, immodest laughter of the theatre; let a succession of the most cruel and the most voluptuous pleasures maintain a perpetual excitement. If such happiness is distasteful to any, let him be branded as a public enemy; and if any attempt to modify or put an end to it, let him be silenced, banished, put an end to. Let these be reckoned the true gods, who procure for the people this condition of things, and preserve it when once possessed. Let them be worshipped as they wish; let them demand whatever games they please, from or with their own worshippers; only let them secure that such felicity be not imperilled by foe, plague, or disaster of any kind. What sane man would compare a republic such as this, I will not say to the Roman empire, but to the palace of Sardanapalus, the ancient king who was so abandoned to pleasures, that he caused it to be inscribed on his tomb, that now that he was dead, he possessed only those things which he had swallowed and consumed by his appetites while alive? If these men had such a king as this, who, while self-indulgent, should lay no severe restraint on them, they would more enthusiastically consecrate to him a temple and a flamen than the ancient Romans did to Romulus.

But the worshippers and admirers of these gods enjoy imitating their shameful wickedness. They do not care whether the republic becomes less corrupt and immoral. They say, “Let it remain undefeated. Let it prosper and have abundant resources. Let it win glory through victories, or better still, enjoy the security of peace. What else matters to us?” Their concern is that everyone should be able to grow rich enough to fund daily extravagances. They also want the powerful to use the weak for their own purposes. Let the poor seek the favor of the rich for their livelihood. Under their protection, let them enjoy an idle peace. Let the rich exploit the poor as dependents who serve their pride. Let the people applaud those who provide pleasure, not those who protect their interests. Let no demanding duty be imposed and no immoral act forbidden. Let kings judge their success by their subjects’ obedience, not their righteousness. Let the provinces remain loyal to their kings, not as moral guides, but as masters of their possessions and suppliers of their pleasures. Let them show not sincere respect, but a twisted, submissive fear. Let the laws be more concerned with damage to another person’s property than with harm to one’s own person. If someone troubles a neighbor or harms that neighbor’s property, family, or person, let him be subject to legal action. But in private, let everyone do as they please without punishment, with their own family and anyone willing to join them. Let there be plenty of public prostitutes for anyone who wants them, especially those too poor to keep one for private use. Let huge, richly decorated houses be built. Let lavish banquets be held in them, where anyone who wishes may gamble, drink, vomit,¹⁰⁸ and indulge without restraint, day or night. Let the rustling of dancers and the loud, indecent laughter of the theater be heard everywhere. Let a succession of the cruelest and most sensual pleasures keep everyone in constant excitement. If anyone dislikes such happiness, let him be branded a public enemy. If anyone tries to change it or put an end to it, let him be silenced, banished, or killed. Let the gods who provide this way of life and preserve it be considered the true gods. Let them be worshipped as they wish. Let them demand whatever games they please, either from their worshippers or in their company. Only let them ensure that this happiness is not threatened by enemies, disease, or any other disaster. What sane person would compare such a republic, not just to the Roman Empire, but even to the palace of Sardanapalus? That ancient king was so devoted to pleasure that he had an inscription placed on his tomb. It declared that, now he was dead, he possessed only what he had swallowed and consumed to satisfy his appetites while alive. If these men had such a king, one who indulged himself and placed no strict restraints on them, they would dedicate a temple and a priest to him. They would do so with more enthusiasm than the ancient Romans showed toward Romulus.

21. Cicero's opinion of the Roman republic.

21. Cicero's view of the Roman republic.

But if our adversaries do not care how foully and disgracefully the Roman republic be stained by corrupt practices, so long only as it holds together and continues in being, and if they therefore pooh-pooh the testimony of Sallust to its "utterly wicked and profligate" condition, what will they make of Cicero's statement, that even in his time it had become entirely extinct, and that there remained extant no Roman republic at all? He introduces Scipio (the Scipio who had destroyed Carthage) discussing the republic, at a time when already there were presentiments of its speedy ruin by that corruption which Sallust describes. In fact, at the time when the discussion took place, one of the Gracchi, who, according to Sallust, was the first great instigator of seditions, had already been put to death. His death, indeed, is mentioned in the same book. Now Scipio, in the end of the second book, says: "As, among the different sounds which proceed from lyres, flutes, and the human voice, there must be maintained a certain harmony which a cultivated ear cannot endure to hear disturbed or jarring, but which may be elicited in full and absolute concord by the modulation even of voices very unlike one another; so, where reason is allowed to modulate the diverse elements of the state, there is obtained a perfect concord from the upper, lower, and middle classes as from various sounds; and what musicians call harmony in singing, is concord in matters of state, which is the strictest bond and best security of any republic, and which by no ingenuity can be retained where justice has become extinct." Then, when he had expatiated somewhat more fully, and had more copiously illustrated the benefits of its presence and the ruinous effects of its absence upon a state, Pilus, one of the company present at the discussion, struck in and demanded that the question should be more thoroughly sifted, and that the subject of justice should be freely discussed for the sake of ascertaining what truth there was in the maxim which was then becoming daily more current, that "the republic cannot be governed without injustice." Scipio expressed his willingness to have this maxim discussed and sifted, and gave it as his opinion that it was baseless, and that no progress could be made in discussing the republic unless it was established, not only that this maxim, that "the republic cannot be governed without injustice," was false, but also that the truth is, that it cannot be governed without the most absolute justice. And the discussion of this question, being deferred till the next day, is carried on in the third book with great animation. For Pilus himself undertook to defend the position that the republic cannot be governed without injustice, at the same time being at special pains to clear himself of any real participation in that opinion. He advocated with great keenness the cause of injustice against justice, and endeavoured by plausible reasons and examples to demonstrate that the former is beneficial, the latter useless, to the republic. Then, at the request of the company, Lælius attempted to defend justice, and strained every nerve to prove that nothing is so hurtful to a state as injustice; and that without justice a republic can neither be governed, nor even continue to exist.

But perhaps our opponents do not care how shamefully corruption stains the Roman republic, as long as it survives. Perhaps that is why they dismiss Sallust’s account of its “utterly wicked and corrupt” condition. What, then, will they make of Cicero’s claim? He said that even in his own time the republic had entirely died out. No Roman republic remained at all. Cicero presents Scipio, the conqueror of Carthage, discussing the republic. The discussion takes place when people already sense its approaching destruction by the corruption Sallust describes. By then, one of the Gracchi had already been put to death. According to Sallust, he was the first major instigator of unrest. His death is mentioned in the same book. Near the end of the second book, Scipio says: “The different sounds of lyres, flutes, and human voices must keep a certain harmony. A trained ear cannot bear to hear that harmony disturbed or discordant. Yet even very different voices can be brought into complete agreement by skillful arrangement. In the same way, reason can bring the different elements of the state into perfect agreement. The upper, lower, and middle classes are like different sounds. What musicians call harmony in singing is called concord in the state. It is the closest bond and surest protection of any republic. But no ingenuity can preserve it once justice has died out.” Scipio then speaks further about the benefits of concord and the damage its absence causes a state. Pilus, one of those present, interrupts and asks that the question be examined more thoroughly. He wants them to discuss justice freely and test a saying that is becoming more common every day: “The republic cannot be governed without injustice.” Scipio agrees to examine the saying. In his view, it has no basis. He says they cannot make progress in discussing the republic unless they establish two things. First, the claim that “the republic cannot be governed without injustice” is false. Second, the truth is that it cannot be governed without the most absolute justice. The discussion is postponed until the next day and continues energetically in the third book. Pilus himself undertakes to defend the claim that the republic cannot be governed without injustice. At the same time, he takes special care to make clear that he does not actually believe it. He argues forcefully for injustice against justice. With plausible arguments and examples, he tries to show that injustice benefits the republic and justice is useless to it. Then, at the request of the others, Laelius attempts to defend justice. He does everything he can to prove that nothing harms a state more than injustice. He also argues that without justice a republic can neither be governed nor continue to exist.

When this question has been handled to the satisfaction of the company, Scipio reverts to the original thread of discourse, and repeats with commendation his own brief definition of a republic, that it is the weal of the people. "The people" he defines as being not every assemblage or mob, but an assemblage associated by a common acknowledgment of law, and by a community of interests. Then he shows the use of definition in debate; and from these definitions of his own he gathers that a republic, or "weal of the people," then exists only when it is well and justly governed, whether by a monarch, or an aristocracy, or by the whole people. But when the monarch is unjust, or, as the Greeks say, a tyrant; or the aristocrats are unjust, and form a faction; or the people themselves are unjust, and become, as Scipio for want of a better name calls them, themselves the tyrant, then the republic is not only blemished (as had been proved the day before), but by legitimate deduction from those definitions, it altogether ceases to be. For it could not be the people's weal when a tyrant factiously lorded it over the state; neither would the people be any longer a people if it were unjust, since it would no longer answer the definition of a people—"an assemblage associated by a common acknowledgment of law, and by a community of interests."

After the question has been discussed to everyone’s satisfaction, Scipio returns to his original subject. He repeats with approval his own brief definition of a republic as the welfare of the people. He defines "the people" not as any gathering or mob, but as a community united by a shared acknowledgment of law and common interests. He then shows how definitions are useful in debate. From his own definitions, he concludes that a republic, or the welfare of the people, exists only under good and just government. It may be governed by a monarch, an aristocracy, or the whole people. But a monarch may be unjust, or, as the Greeks say, a tyrant. Aristocrats may be unjust and form a faction. Or the people themselves may be unjust and become what Scipio, lacking a better name, calls a tyrant. In these cases, the republic is not merely flawed, as had been shown the day before. By a sound deduction from those definitions, it ceases to exist altogether. It could not serve the welfare of the people when a tyrant ruled the state through a faction. Nor would an unjust people still be a people. They would no longer fit the definition of a people as "a community united by a shared acknowledgment of law and common interests."

When, therefore, the Roman republic was such as Sallust described it, it was not "utterly wicked and profligate," as he says, but had altogether ceased to exist, if we are to admit the reasoning of that debate maintained on the subject of the republic by its best representatives. Tully himself, too, speaking not in the person of Scipio or any one else, but uttering his own sentiments, uses the following language in the beginning of the fifth book, after quoting a line from the poet Ennius, in which he said, "Rome's severe morality and her citizens are her safeguard." "This verse," says Cicero, "seems to me to have all the sententious truthfulness of an oracle. For neither would the citizens have availed without the morality of the community, nor would the morality of the commons without outstanding men have availed either to establish or so long to maintain in vigour so grand a republic with so wide and just an empire. Accordingly, before our day, the hereditary usages formed our foremost men, and they on their part retained the usages and institutions of their fathers. But our age, receiving the republic as a chef-d'œuvre of another age which has already begun to grow old, has not merely neglected to restore the colours of the original, but has not even been at the pains to preserve so much as the general outline and most outstanding features. For what survives of that primitive morality which the poet called Rome's safeguard? It is so obsolete and forgotten, that, far from practising it, one does not even know it. And of the citizens what shall I say? Morality has perished through poverty of great men; a poverty for which we must not only assign a reason, but for the guilt of which we must answer as criminals charged with a capital crime. For it is through our vices, and not by any mishap, that we retain only the name of a republic, and have long since lost the reality."

When the Roman republic was as Sallust described it, it was not merely "utterly corrupt and immoral," as he says. It had ceased to exist altogether. That is the conclusion if we accept the reasoning of its leading statesmen in their debate about the republic. Tully himself also speaks on this subject at the beginning of the fifth book. He speaks in his own voice, not as Scipio or anyone else. First, he quotes a line from the poet Ennius: "Rome's strict moral code and her citizens are her safeguard." "This verse," Cicero says, "seems to me as wise and true as an oracle. Citizens alone could not have founded such a great republic, with so vast and just an empire. Nor could they have kept it strong for so long without the community's moral code. And the people's moral code could not have done this without outstanding citizens. "In earlier times, inherited customs shaped our greatest citizens. They, in turn, preserved the customs and institutions of their ancestors. But our age received the republic as a masterpiece of an earlier age, one already beginning to deteriorate. We have not merely failed to restore its original colors. We have not even troubled to preserve its outline and most prominent features. "What remains of the ancient moral code that the poet called Rome's safeguard? It has fallen so completely out of use and memory that people do not even know it, let alone practice it. And what shall I say about the citizens? Morality has perished for lack of great men. We must not only explain this shortage. We must also answer for our guilt, like criminals charged with a capital crime. It is because of our vices, not any misfortune, that we keep only the name of a republic. We lost the reality long ago."

This is the confession of Cicero, long indeed after the death of Africanus, whom he introduced as an interlocutor in his work De Republica, but still before the coming of Christ. Yet, if the disasters he bewails had been lamented after the Christian religion had been diffused, and had begun to prevail, is there a man of our adversaries who would not have thought that they were to be imputed to the Christians? Why, then, did their gods not take steps then to prevent the decay and extinction of that republic, over the loss of which Cicero, long before Christ had come in the flesh, sings so lugubrious a dirge? Its admirers have need to inquire whether, even in the days of primitive men and morals, true justice flourished in it; or was it not perhaps even then, to use the casual expression of Cicero, rather a coloured painting than the living reality? But, if God will, we shall consider this elsewhere. For I mean in its own place to show that—according to the definitions in which Cicero himself, using Scipio as his mouthpiece, briefly propounded what a republic is, and what a people is, and according to many testimonies, both of his own lips and of those who took part in that same debate—Rome never was a republic, because true justice had never a place in it. But accepting the more feasible definitions of a republic, I grant there was a republic of a certain kind, and certainly much better administered by the more ancient Romans than by their modern representatives. But the fact is, true justice has no existence save in that republic whose founder and ruler is Christ, if at least any choose to call this a republic; and indeed we cannot deny that it is the people's weal. But if perchance this name, which has become familiar in other connections, be considered alien to our common parlance, we may at all events say that in this city is true justice; the city of which Holy Scripture says, "Glorious things are said of thee, O city of God."

This was Cicero’s admission, made long after the death of Africanus, whom he presented as a speaker in De Republica. It was still made before Christ came. Yet suppose Cicero had mourned these disasters after Christianity had spread and begun to prevail. Which of our opponents would not have blamed them on the Christians? Why, then, did their gods not act to prevent the decline and destruction of that republic? Cicero sang such a mournful lament for its loss long before Christ came in the flesh. Those who admire Rome should ask whether true justice flourished there, even among the earliest Romans and under their customs. Or was it perhaps, even then, more like a painting than a living reality, as Cicero once put it? But, if God wills, we shall consider this elsewhere. In its proper place, I intend to show that Rome was never a republic. True justice never had a place in it. This follows from Cicero’s own definitions of a republic and a people, which he briefly presented through Scipio. It also follows from much that Cicero himself and the others in the same debate said. But if we accept more workable definitions of a republic, I grant that Rome was a republic of a kind. It was certainly much better governed by the ancient Romans than by their modern counterparts. The fact is that true justice exists only in the republic founded and ruled by Christ, if anyone chooses to call it a republic. Indeed, we cannot deny that it is the people’s welfare. But perhaps this name, now familiar in other contexts, may seem strange in our common speech. In any case, we can say that true justice exists in this city. It is the city of which Holy Scripture says, "Glorious things are said of thee, O city of God."

22. That the Roman gods never took any steps to prevent the republic from being ruined by immorality.

22. The Roman gods did nothing to prevent immorality from ruining the republic.

But what is relevant to the present question is this, that however admirable our adversaries say the republic was or is, it is certain that by the testimony of their own most learned writers it had become, long before the coming of Christ, utterly wicked and dissolute, and indeed had no existence, but had been destroyed by profligacy. To prevent this, surely these guardian gods ought to have given precepts of morals and a rule of life to the people by whom they were worshipped in so many temples, with so great a variety of priests and sacrifices, with such numberless and diverse rites, so many festal solemnities, so many celebrations of magnificent games. But in all this the demons only looked after their own interest, and cared not at all how their worshippers lived, or rather were at pains to induce them to lead an abandoned life, so long as they paid these tributes to their honour, and regarded them with fear. If any one denies this, let him produce, let him point to, let him read the laws which the gods had given against sedition, and which the Gracchi transgressed when they threw everything into confusion; or those Marius, and Cinna, and Carbo broke when they involved their country in civil wars, most iniquitous and unjustifiable in their causes, cruelly conducted, and yet more cruelly terminated; or those which Sylla scorned, whose life, character, and deeds, as described by Sallust and other historians, are the abhorrence of all mankind. Who will deny that at that time the republic had become extinct?

What matters to the present question is this. Our opponents may say the republic was or is admirable. Yet their own most learned writers testify that, long before Christ came, it had become utterly wicked and corrupt. Indeed, it no longer existed, for corruption had destroyed it. Surely its guardian gods should have given moral teachings and rules for living to prevent this. The people worshipped them in so many temples, with such a variety of priests and sacrifices. They honored them with countless different rites, festivals, and celebrations of magnificent games. Yet in all this the demons looked after only their own interests. They cared nothing about how their worshippers lived. Indeed, they worked to lead them into lives of vice. It was enough that the people paid them these honors and regarded them with fear. If anyone denies this, let him produce, point to, and read the laws the gods gave against sedition. Let him show us the laws the Gracchi broke when they threw everything into confusion. Or let him show us those that Marius, Cinna, and Carbo broke. They drew their country into civil wars whose causes were utterly wicked and unjustifiable. The wars were cruelly fought and ended even more cruelly. Or let him show us the laws that Sylla scorned. His life, character, and deeds, as Sallust and other historians describe them, are abhorrent to all humanity. Who will deny that by then the republic had ceased to exist?

Possibly they will be bold enough to suggest in defence of the gods, that they abandoned the city on account of the profligacy of the citizens, according to the lines of Virgil:

Perhaps they will be bold enough to defend the gods by saying that they abandoned the city because its citizens were immoral, as Virgil's lines suggest:

But, firstly, if it be so, then they cannot complain against the Christian religion, as if it were that which gave offence to the gods and caused them to abandon Rome, since the Roman immorality had long ago driven from the altars of the city a cloud of little gods, like as many flies. And yet where was this host of divinities, when, long before the corruption of the primitive morality, Rome was taken and burnt by the Gauls? Perhaps they were present, but asleep? For at that time the whole city fell into the hands of the enemy, with the single exception of the Capitoline hill; and this too would have been taken, had not—the watchful geese aroused the sleeping gods! And this gave occasion to the festival of the goose, in which Rome sank nearly to the superstition of the Egyptians, who worship beasts and birds. But of these adventitious evils which are inflicted by hostile armies or by some disaster, and which attach rather to the body than the soul, I am not meanwhile disputing. At present I speak of the decay of morality, which at first almost imperceptibly lost its brilliant hue, but afterwards was wholly obliterated, was swept away as by a torrent, and involved the republic in such disastrous ruin, that though the houses and walls remained standing, the leading writers do not scruple to say that the republic was destroyed. Now, the departure of the gods "from each fane, each sacred shrine," and their abandonment of the city to destruction, was an act of justice, if their laws inculcating justice and a moral life had been held in contempt by that city. But what kind of gods were these, pray, who declined to live with a people who worshipped them, and whose corrupt life they had done nothing to reform?

First, if this is so, they cannot blame Christianity for offending the gods and causing them to abandon Rome. Roman immorality had long ago driven a cloud of little gods from the city’s altars, like a swarm of flies. Yet where was this host of gods when the Gauls captured and burned Rome, long before its original morality decayed? Perhaps they were there, but asleep? At that time, the entire city fell into enemy hands, except for the Capitoline Hill. Even that would have fallen if the watchful geese had not awakened the sleeping gods! This gave rise to the festival of the goose. In celebrating it, Rome came close to the superstition of the Egyptians, who worship animals and birds. But I am not concerned here with misfortunes inflicted by invading armies or other disasters. These affect the body rather than the soul. For now, I am speaking of moral decay. At first, morality lost its brilliant color almost imperceptibly. Later, it was completely wiped out, swept away as if by a flood. This brought such disastrous ruin upon the republic that leading writers do not hesitate to say it was destroyed. They say this even though its houses and walls remained standing. The gods departed “from each fane, each sacred shrine” and abandoned the city to destruction. This would have been just if the city had scorned their laws teaching justice and moral living. But what kind of gods refused to live among people who worshipped them, when they had done nothing to reform those people’s corrupt lives?

23. That the vicissitudes of this life are dependent not on the favour or hostility of demons, but on the will of the true God.

23. The ups and downs of this life depend not on the favor or hostility of demons, but on the will of the true God.

But, further, is it not obvious that the gods have abetted the fulfilment of men's desires, instead of authoritatively bridling them? For Marius, a low-born and self-made man, who ruthlessly provoked and conducted civil wars, was so effectually aided by them, that he was seven times consul, and died full of years in his seventh consulship, escaping the hands of Sylla, who immediately afterwards came into power. Why, then, did they not also aid him, so as to restrain him from so many enormities? For if it is said that the gods had no hand in his success, this is no trivial admission, that a man can attain the dearly coveted felicity of this life even though his own gods be not propitious; that men can be loaded with the gifts of fortune as Marius was, can enjoy health, power, wealth, honours, dignity, length of days, though the gods be hostile to him; and that, on the other hand, men can be tormented as Regulus was, with captivity, bondage, destitution, watchings, pain, and cruel death, though the gods be his friends. To concede this is to make a compendious confession that the gods are useless, and their worship superfluous. If the gods have taught the people rather what goes clean counter to the virtues of the soul, and that integrity of life which meets a reward after death; if even in respect of temporal and transitory blessings they neither hurt those whom they hate nor profit whom they love, why are they worshipped, why are they invoked with such eager homage? Why do men murmur in difficult and sad emergencies, as if the gods had retired in anger? and why, on their account, is the Christian religion injured by the most unworthy calumnies? If in temporal matters they have power either for good or for evil, why did they stand by Marius, the worst of Rome's citizens, and abandon Regulus, the best? Does this not prove themselves to be most unjust and wicked? And even if it be supposed that for this very reason they are the rather to be feared and worshipped, this is a mistake; for we do not read that Regulus worshipped them less assiduously than Marius. Neither is it apparent that a wicked life is to be chosen, on the ground that the gods are supposed to have favoured Marius more than Regulus. For Metellus, the most highly esteemed of all the Romans, who had five sons in the consulship, was prosperous even in this life; and Catiline, the worst of men, reduced to poverty and defeated in the war his own guilt had aroused, lived and perished miserably. Real and secure felicity is the peculiar possession of those who worship that God by whom alone it can be conferred.

But is it not obvious that the gods have helped men fulfill their desires instead of firmly restraining them? Marius came from a humble background and made his own way. He ruthlessly started and waged civil wars. Yet the gods helped him so effectively that he became consul seven times. He lived to an old age and died during his seventh consulship. He escaped the grasp of Sylla, who came to power immediately afterward. Why, then, did the gods not also restrain him from committing so many terrible acts? If someone says the gods had no part in his success, that is no small admission. It means that a man can attain the much-desired happiness of this life even without his own gods' favor. It means that men can be showered with fortune's gifts, as Marius was, even though the gods are hostile to them. They can enjoy health, power, wealth, honors, dignity, and a long life. On the other hand, men can be tormented as Regulus was, even though the gods are their friends. He suffered captivity, slavery, poverty, sleeplessness, pain, and a cruel death. To admit this is to confess in short that the gods are useless and that worshipping them is unnecessary. The gods have taught people things that directly oppose the virtues of the soul and a life of integrity. Such a life receives its reward after death. If the gods have done this, and if they neither harm those they hate nor benefit those they love, even in matters of temporary, passing blessings, why are they worshipped? Why are they called upon with such eager devotion? Why do people complain in times of trouble and sorrow, as if the gods had withdrawn in anger? And why, for the gods' sake, is the Christian religion harmed by such shameful slanders? If the gods have power to help or harm in earthly matters, why did they support Marius, Rome's worst citizen, and abandon Regulus, its best? Does this not prove that the gods themselves are most unjust and wicked? Some may suppose that the gods should be feared and worshipped all the more for that very reason. But this is a mistake. We do not read that Regulus worshipped them any less diligently than Marius did. Nor does it follow that we should choose a wicked life because the gods supposedly favored Marius more than Regulus. Metellus was the most highly regarded of all Romans, and five of his sons became consuls. He prospered even in this life. Catiline, the worst of men, was reduced to poverty and defeated in the war his own guilt had stirred up. He lived and died miserably. True and secure happiness belongs only to those who worship the God who alone can give it.

It is thus apparent, that when the republic was being destroyed by profligate manners, its gods did nothing to hinder its destruction by the direction or correction of its manners, but rather accelerated its destruction by increasing the demoralization and corruption that already existed. They need not pretend that their goodness was shocked by the iniquity of the city, and that they withdrew in anger. For they were there, sure enough; they are detected, convicted: they were equally unable to break silence so as to guide others, and to keep silence so as to conceal themselves. I do not dwell on the fact that the inhabitants of Minturnæ took pity on Marius, and commended him to the goddess Marica in her grove, that she might give him success in all things, and that from the abyss of despair in which he then lay he forthwith returned unhurt to Rome, and entered the city the ruthless leader of a ruthless army; and they who wish to know how bloody was his victory, how unlike a citizen, and how much more relentlessly than any foreign foe he acted, let them read the histories. But this, as I said, I do not dwell upon; nor do I attribute the bloody bliss of Marius to, I know not what Minturnian goddess [Marica], but rather to the secret providence of God, that the mouths of our adversaries might be shut, and that they who are not led by passion, but by prudent consideration of events, might be delivered from error. And even if the demons have any power in these matters, they have only that power which the secret decree of the Almighty allots to them, in order that we may not set too great store by earthly prosperity, seeing it is oftentimes vouchsafed even to wicked men like Marius; and that we may not, on the other hand, regard it as an evil, since we see that many good and pious worshippers of the one true God are, in spite of the demons, pre-eminently successful; and, finally, that we may not suppose that these unclean spirits are either to be propitiated or feared for the sake of earthly blessings or calamities: for as wicked men on earth cannot do all they would, so neither can these demons, but only in so far as they are permitted by the decree of Him whose judgments are fully comprehensible, justly reprehensible by none.

It is clear, then, that the republic was being destroyed by moral corruption. Its gods did nothing to stop its destruction by guiding or correcting its people’s conduct. Instead, they hastened its destruction by increasing the corruption and depravity already there. They cannot pretend that their goodness was shocked by the city’s wickedness, or that they withdrew in anger. They were certainly present. They have been exposed and found guilty. They could neither speak up to guide others nor remain silent to hide themselves. I will not dwell on what happened when the people of Minturnæ took pity on Marius. They commended him to the goddess Marica in her grove, asking her to grant him success in everything. He was then in the depths of despair, but he soon returned safely to Rome. He entered the city as the ruthless leader of a ruthless army. Those who want to know how bloody his victory was should read the histories. There they will see how unlike a fellow citizen he acted, and how much more ruthlessly than any foreign enemy. But, as I said, I will not dwell on this. Nor do I credit the bloody triumph of Marius to some obscure goddess of Minturnæ [Marica]. I attribute it instead to the hidden providence of God. Thus our adversaries may be silenced, and those guided by careful thought rather than passion may be freed from error. Even if demons have any power in these matters, they have only what the Almighty’s hidden decree grants them. This is so that we will not value earthly prosperity too highly. After all, it is often granted even to wicked men like Marius. On the other hand, we must not regard prosperity as evil. We see that many good and devout worshippers of the one true God prosper greatly, despite the demons. Finally, we must not suppose that we should appease or fear these unclean spirits because of earthly blessings or disasters. Wicked people on earth cannot do everything they want. Neither can these demons. They can do only what the decree of God permits, whose judgments are fully comprehensible and can justly be condemned by no one.

24. Of the deeds of Sylla, in which the demons boasted that he had their help.

24. Of Sylla’s deeds, in which the demons boasted that they had helped him.

It is certain that Sylla—whose rule was so cruel, that, in comparison with it, the preceding state of things which he came to avenge was regretted—when first he advanced towards Rome to give battle to Marius, found the auspices so favourable when he sacrificed, that, according to Livy's account, the augur Postumius expressed his willingness to lose his head if Sylla did not, with the help of the gods, accomplish what he designed. The gods, you see, had not departed from "every fane and sacred shrine," since they were still predicting the issue of these affairs, and yet were taking no steps to correct Sylla himself. Their presages promised him great prosperity, but no threatenings of theirs subdued his evil passions. And then, when he was in Asia conducting the war against Mithridates, a message from Jupiter was delivered to him by Lucius Titius, to the effect that he would conquer Mithridates; and so it came to pass. And afterwards, when he was meditating a return to Rome for the purpose of avenging in the blood of the citizens injuries done to himself and his friends, a second message from Jupiter was delivered to him by a soldier of the sixth legion, to the effect that it was he who had predicted the victory over Mithridates, and that now he promised to give him power to recover the republic from his enemies, though with great bloodshed. Sylla at once inquired of the soldier what form had appeared to him; and, on his reply, recognised that it was the same as Jupiter had formerly employed to convey to him the assurance regarding the victory over Mithridates. How, then, can the gods be justified in this matter for the care they took to predict these shadowy successes, and for their negligence in correcting Sylla, and restraining him from stirring up a civil war so lamentable and atrocious, that it not merely disfigured, but extinguished, the republic? The truth is, as I have often said, and as Scripture informs us, and as the facts themselves sufficiently indicate, the demons are found to look after their own ends only, that they may be regarded and worshipped as gods, and that men may be induced to offer to them a worship which associates them with their crimes, and involves them in one common wickedness and judgment of God.

It is certain that Sylla’s rule was so cruel that people regretted the earlier troubles he had come to avenge. When he first marched toward Rome to fight Marius, he offered a sacrifice and received very favorable omens. According to Livy, the augur Postumius said he would stake his head on Sylla’s success. With the gods’ help, Postumius said, Sylla would accomplish what he intended. Clearly, the gods had not departed from "every temple and sacred shrine." They were still predicting the outcome of these events, yet they did nothing to correct Sylla himself. Their omens promised him great success, but none of their warnings subdued his evil passions. Later, while Sylla was in Asia fighting Mithridates, Lucius Titius delivered a message to him from Jupiter. It said that he would conquer Mithridates, and so he did. Afterward, Sylla planned to return to Rome and avenge the wrongs done to himself and his friends. He intended to do so by shedding the blood of his fellow citizens. Then a soldier of the sixth legion delivered a second message from Jupiter. Jupiter said that he had predicted the victory over Mithridates. Now he promised Sylla the power to recover the republic from his enemies, though with great bloodshed. Sylla immediately asked the soldier what form had appeared to him. From the soldier’s answer, he recognized it as the same form Jupiter had used before. In that form, Jupiter had assured him of victory over Mithridates. How, then, can the gods be justified? They took care to predict these fleeting successes, yet failed to correct Sylla or restrain him from starting a civil war. That war was so dreadful and savage that it did not merely disfigure the republic. It destroyed it. The truth is what I have often said, what Scripture tells us, and what the facts themselves make clear. Demons look after their own interests alone. They want to be regarded and worshipped as gods. They want people to offer them worship that joins them to their crimes. In this way, people share in the demons’ wickedness and in God’s judgment of it.

Afterwards, when Sylla had come to Tarentum, and had sacrificed there, he saw on the head of the victim's liver the likeness of a golden crown. Thereupon the same soothsayer Postumius interpreted this to signify a signal victory, and ordered that he only should eat of the entrails. A little afterwards, the slave of a certain Lucius Pontius cried out, "I am Bellona's messenger; the victory is yours, Sylla!" Then he added that the Capitol should be burned. As soon as he had uttered this prediction he left the camp, but returned the following day more excited than ever, and shouted, "The Capitol is fired!" And fired indeed it was. This it was easy for a demon both to foresee and quickly to announce. But observe, as relevant to our subject, what kind of gods they are under whom these men desire to live, who blaspheme the Saviour that delivers the wills of the faithful from the dominion of devils. The man cried out in prophetic rapture, "The victory is yours, Sylla!" And to certify that he spoke by a divine spirit, he predicted also an event which was shortly to happen, and which indeed did fall out, in a place from which he in whom this spirit was speaking was far distant. But he never cried, Forbear thy villanies, Sylla!—the villanies which were committed at Rome by that victor to whom a golden crown on the calf's liver had been shown as the divine evidence of his victory. If such signs as this were customarily sent by just gods, and not by wicked demons, then certainly the entrails he consulted should rather have given Sylla intimation of the cruel disasters that were to befall the city and himself. For that victory was not so conducive to his exaltation to power, as it was fatal to his ambition; for by it he became so insatiable in his desires, and was rendered so arrogant and reckless by prosperity, that he may be said rather to have inflicted a moral destruction on himself than corporal destruction on his enemies. But these truly woful and deplorable calamities the gods gave him no previous hint of, neither by entrails, augury, dream, nor prediction. For they feared his amendment more than his defeat. Yea, they took good care that this glorious conqueror of his own fellow-citizens should be conquered and led captive by his own infamous vices, and should thus be the more submissive slave of the demons themselves.

Later, when Sylla came to Tarentum and offered a sacrifice there, he saw the shape of a golden crown on the head of the sacrificial animal’s liver. The same soothsayer, Postumius, interpreted this as a sign of a great victory. He ordered that Sylla alone should eat the entrails. Shortly afterward, a slave belonging to a man named Lucius Pontius cried out, "I am Bellona’s messenger. The victory is yours, Sylla!" He added that the Capitol would be burned. As soon as he had made this prediction, he left the camp. He returned the next day, more excited than ever, and shouted, "The Capitol is on fire!" And it really was on fire. It was easy for a demon to foresee this and quickly announce it. But consider what kind of gods these are. Some men want to live under their rule and blaspheme the Saviour, who frees the wills of the faithful from the power of devils. In a prophetic frenzy, the man cried, "The victory is yours, Sylla!" To prove that he spoke through a divine spirit, he also predicted an event that would soon happen. It did happen, in a place far from the man through whom the spirit was speaking. But he never cried, "Stop your wicked deeds, Sylla!" These were the deeds committed at Rome by the victor who had been shown a golden crown on the calf’s liver as divine proof of his victory. If just gods, rather than wicked demons, usually sent such signs, the entrails Sylla consulted should surely have warned him of the cruel disasters awaiting the city and himself. For that victory did less to raise him to power than it did to destroy him through his ambition. It made his desires so insatiable and prosperity made him so arrogant and reckless that he destroyed himself morally more than he destroyed his enemies physically. But the gods gave him no advance warning of these truly grievous and terrible disasters, whether through entrails, augury, dreams, or predictions. They feared his reform more than his defeat. Indeed, they took care that this glorious conqueror of his own fellow citizens would be conquered and taken captive by his own shameful vices. In this way, he would become an even more submissive slave to the demons themselves.

25. How powerfully the evil spirits incite men to wicked actions, by giving them the quasi-divine authority of their example.

25. How powerfully evil spirits urge people to do wicked things by giving them the almost divine authority of their own example.

Now, who does not hereby comprehend,—unless he has preferred to imitate such gods rather than by divine grace to withdraw himself from their fellowship,—who does not see how eagerly these evil spirits strive by their example to lend, as it were, divine authority to crime? Is not this proved by the fact that they were seen in a wide plain in Campania rehearsing among themselves the battle which shortly after took place there with great bloodshed between the armies of Rome? For at first there were heard loud crashing noises, and afterwards many reported that they had seen for some days together two armies engaged. And when this battle ceased, they found the ground all indented with just such footprints of men and horses as a great conflict would leave. If, then, the deities were veritably fighting with one another, the civil wars of men are sufficiently justified; yet, by the way, let it be observed that such pugnacious gods must be very wicked or very wretched. If, however, it was but a sham-fight, what did they intend by this, but that the civil wars of the Romans should seem no wickedness, but an imitation of the gods? For already the civil wars had begun; and before this, some lamentable battles and execrable massacres had occurred. Already many had been moved by the story of the soldier, who, on stripping the spoils of his slain foe, recognised in the stripped corpse his own brother, and, with deep curses on civil wars, slew himself there and then on his brother's body. To disguise the bitterness of such tragedies, and kindle increasing ardour in this monstrous warfare, these malign demons, who were reputed and worshipped as gods, fell upon this plan of revealing themselves in a state of civil war, that no compunction for fellow-citizens might cause the Romans to shrink from such battles, but that the human criminality might be justified by the divine example. By a like craft, too, did these evil spirits command that scenic entertainments, of which I have already spoken, should be instituted and dedicated to them. And in these entertainments the poetical compositions and actions of the drama ascribed such iniquities to the gods, that every one might safely imitate them, whether he believed the gods had actually done such things, or, not believing this, yet perceived that they most eagerly desired to be represented as having done them. And that no one might suppose, that in representing the gods as fighting with one another, the poets had slandered them, and imputed to them unworthy actions, the gods themselves, to complete the deception, confirmed the compositions of the poets by exhibiting their own battles to the eyes of men, not only through actions in the theatres, but in their own persons on the actual field.

Who cannot understand this, unless he prefers to imitate such gods rather than leave their company through divine grace? Who cannot see how eagerly these evil spirits try to give crime divine authority by their example? They were seen on a broad plain in Campania, rehearsing among themselves a battle. Shortly afterward, the armies of Rome fought there with great bloodshed. Does this not prove the point? At first, loud crashing noises were heard. Then many people reported seeing two armies fighting for several days. When the battle ended, they found the ground covered with footprints of men and horses. They were just the marks a great battle would leave. If the gods were truly fighting one another, then human civil wars are fully justified. But let us note that such warlike gods must be very wicked or very miserable. If it was only a mock battle, what was their purpose? Surely it was to make the Romans’ civil wars seem not wicked, but an imitation of the gods. For the civil wars had already begun. Some dreadful battles and hateful massacres had already taken place. Many had already been moved by the story of a soldier. While stripping the spoils from an enemy he had killed, he recognized the stripped corpse as his own brother. Bitterly cursing civil wars, he killed himself then and there on his brother’s body. The Romans regarded and worshipped these evil demons as gods. To disguise the bitterness of such tragedies and stir up greater eagerness for this monstrous warfare, the demons devised a plan. They showed themselves engaged in civil war. They wanted no pity for fellow citizens to make the Romans shrink from such battles. Instead, human crime would be justified by divine example. By a similar trick, these evil spirits also ordered that the theatrical shows I mentioned earlier be established and dedicated to them. In these shows, the poetry and action of the plays attributed such wicked deeds to the gods that everyone could safely imitate them. This was true whether people believed the gods had actually done these things or not. Even those who did not believe it could see that the gods eagerly wanted to be portrayed as having done them. The poets had portrayed the gods fighting one another. Someone might have thought the poets had slandered them and falsely attributed unworthy deeds to them. To complete the deception, the gods themselves confirmed the poets’ stories. They displayed their battles before human eyes, not only through performances in theaters, but in person on the actual battlefield.

We have been forced to bring forward these facts, because their authors have not scrupled to say and to write that the Roman republic had already been ruined by the depraved moral habits of the citizens, and had ceased to exist before the advent of our Lord Jesus Christ. Now this ruin they do not impute to their own gods, though they impute to our Christ the evils of this life, which cannot ruin good men, be they alive or dead. And this they do, though our Christ has issued so many precepts inculcating virtue and restraining vice; while their own gods have done nothing whatever to preserve that republic that served them, and to restrain it from ruin by such precepts, but have rather hastened its destruction, by corrupting its morality through their pestilent example. No one, I fancy, will now be bold enough to say that the republic was then ruined because of the departure of the gods "from each fane, each sacred shrine," as if they were the friends of virtue, and were offended by the vices of men. No, there are too many presages from entrails, auguries, soothsayings, whereby they boastingly proclaimed themselves prescient of future events and controllers of the fortune of war,—all which prove them to have been present. And had they been indeed absent, the Romans would never in these civil wars have been so far transported by their own passions as they were by the instigations of these gods.

We have been forced to present these facts because their own authors have freely said and written that the Roman republic had already been ruined by its citizens’ corrupt moral habits. They say it had ceased to exist before our Lord Jesus Christ came. Yet they do not blame their own gods for this ruin. Instead, they blame our Christ for the troubles of this life, which cannot ruin good people, whether living or dead. They do this even though our Christ has given many commands that teach virtue and restrain vice. Their own gods, however, did nothing to preserve the republic that served them. They gave no such commands to keep it from ruin. Instead, they hastened its destruction by corrupting its morals through their deadly example. I doubt anyone will now dare to say that the republic was ruined because the gods departed "from each fane, each sacred shrine." That would imply that they were friends of virtue and were offended by human vices. But there are too many omens read from animal entrails, signs from birds, and prophecies. Through these, the gods boastfully claimed to know the future and control the fortunes of war. All these prove that they were present. Indeed, had they been absent, the Romans’ own passions would never have driven them as far in these civil wars as the gods’ prompting did.

26. That the demons gave in secret certain obscure instructions in morals, while in public their own solemnities inculcated all wickedness.

26. The demons secretly gave certain obscure moral instructions, while their public ceremonies taught all kinds of wickedness.

Seeing that this is so,—seeing that the filthy and cruel deeds, the disgraceful and criminal actions of the gods, whether real or feigned, were at their own request published, and were consecrated, and dedicated in their honour as sacred and stated solemnities; seeing they vowed vengeance on those who refused to exhibit them to the eyes of all, that they might be proposed as deeds worthy of imitation, why is it that these same demons, who, by taking pleasure in such obscenities, acknowledge themselves to be unclean spirits, and by delighting in their own villanies and iniquities, real or imaginary, and by requesting from the immodest, and extorting from the modest, the celebration of these licentious acts, proclaim themselves instigators to a criminal and lewd life;—why, I ask, are they represented as giving some good moral precepts to a few of their own elect, initiated in the secrecy of their shrines? If it be so, this very thing only serves further to demonstrate the malicious craft of these pestilent spirits. For so great is the influence of probity and chastity, that all men, or almost all men, are moved by the praise of these virtues; nor is any man so depraved by vice, but he hath some feeling of honour left in him. So that, unless the devil sometimes transformed himself, as Scripture says, into an angel of light,¹¹⁰ he could not compass his deceitful purpose. Accordingly, in public, a bold impurity fills the ear of the people with noisy clamour; in private, a feigned chastity speaks in scarce audible whispers to a few: an open stage is provided for shameful things, but on the praiseworthy the curtain falls: grace hides, disgrace flaunts: a wicked deed draws an overflowing house, a virtuous speech finds scarce a hearer, as though purity were to be blushed at, impurity boasted of. Where else can such confusion reign, but in devils' temples? Where, but in the haunts of deceit? For the secret precepts are given as a sop to the virtuous, who are few in number; the wicked examples are exhibited to encourage the vicious, who are countless.

This is the situation. At their own request, the gods’ filthy and cruel deeds, their shameful and criminal acts, were made public. Whether real or invented, these acts were made sacred and performed in their honor at regular festivals. The gods threatened vengeance on those who refused to display them for all to see. They wanted these acts presented as examples worth imitating. Why, then, are these same demons said to give good moral instruction to a few chosen followers, initiated privately in their shrines? By enjoying such obscenities, they admit that they are unclean spirits. They delight in their own wicked and unjust acts, whether real or imaginary. They ask the shameless to celebrate these immoral acts and force the modest to do so. In this way, they proclaim that they encourage criminal and lustful lives. If they do give such instruction, it only shows more clearly the malicious cunning of these destructive spirits. Honesty and chastity have such power that all, or almost all, people are moved when these virtues are praised. No one is so corrupted by vice that they have no sense of honor left. So, unless the devil sometimes disguised himself as an angel of light, as Scripture says,¹¹⁰ he could not achieve his deceitful purpose. Thus, in public, shameless obscenity fills people’s ears with a loud clamor. In private, false chastity speaks to a few in barely audible whispers. Shameful acts are performed on an open stage, but the curtain falls on what deserves praise. Virtue hides, while disgrace parades itself. A wicked act draws a packed house, while a virtuous speech finds hardly a listener. It is as though purity were something to be ashamed of, and impurity something to boast about. Where else could such confusion reign but in the temples of devils? Where else but in places of deceit? The secret teachings are offered to appease the virtuous, who are few. The wicked examples are displayed to encourage the vicious, who are countless.

Where and when those initiated in the mysteries of Cœlestis received any good instructions, we know not. What we do know is, that before her shrine, in which her image is set, and amidst a vast crowd gathering from all quarters, and standing closely packed together, we were intensely interested spectators of the games which were going on, and saw, as we pleased to turn the eye, on this side a grand display of harlots, on the other the virgin goddess: we saw this virgin worshipped with prayer and with obscene rites. There we saw no shamefaced mimes, no actress overburdened with modesty: all that the obscene rites demanded was fully complied with. We were plainly shown what was pleasing to the virgin deity, and the matron who witnessed the spectacle returned home from the temple a wiser woman. Some, indeed, of the more prudent women turned their faces from the immodest movements of the players, and learned the art of wickedness by a furtive regard. For they were restrained, by the modest demeanour due to men, from looking boldly at the immodest gestures; but much more were they restrained from condemning with chaste heart the sacred rites of her whom they adored. And yet this licentiousness—which, if practised in one's home, could only be done there in secret—was practised as a public lesson in the temple; and if any modesty remained in men, it was occupied in marvelling that wickedness which men could not unrestrainedly commit should be part of the religious teaching of the gods, and that to omit its exhibition should incur the anger of the gods. What spirit can that be, which by a hidden inspiration stirs men's corruption, and goads them to adultery, and feeds on the full-fledged iniquity, unless it be the same that finds pleasure in such religious ceremonies, sets in the temples images of devils, and loves to see in play the images of vices; that whispers in secret some righteous sayings to deceive the few who are good, and scatters in public invitations to profligacy, to gain possession of the millions who are wicked?

We do not know where or when those initiated into the mysteries of Caelestis received any good instruction. But we do know what we saw before her shrine, where her image stands. A vast crowd had gathered from all directions and stood packed together. We watched the games with intense interest. Wherever we turned our eyes, we saw a grand display of prostitutes on one side and the virgin goddess on the other. We saw this virgin worshipped with prayers and obscene rites. There were no shy mimes or actresses weighed down by modesty. They did everything the obscene rites demanded. We were shown plainly what pleased the virgin goddess, and every married woman who watched went home from the temple wiser. Some of the more prudent women turned their faces away from the performers’ indecent movements. Yet they learned the art of wickedness through secret glances. Modesty before men kept them from openly watching the indecent gestures. But they were even more reluctant to condemn, with a pure heart, the sacred rites of the goddess they worshipped. This indecency could only have been practiced in secret at home. Yet in the temple it was practiced as a public lesson. If any modesty remained in men, it was spent in amazement. They marveled that the gods’ religious teaching included wickedness that people could not freely commit. They also marveled that failing to display it would bring the gods’ anger. What kind of spirit secretly stirs up human corruption, drives people to adultery, and feeds on fully developed wickedness? Surely it is the same spirit that delights in such religious ceremonies, places images of devils in temples, and loves to see vices acted out. It whispers a few righteous sayings in secret to deceive the few who are good. In public, it spreads invitations to vice, so that it may gain possession of the millions who are wicked.

Cicero, a weighty man, and a philosopher in his way, when about to be made edile, wished the citizens to understand¹¹¹ that, among the other duties of his magistracy, he must propitiate Flora by the celebration of games. And these games are reckoned devout in proportion to their lewdness. In another place,¹¹² and when he was now consul, and the state in great peril, he says that games had been celebrated for ten days together, and that nothing had been omitted which could pacify the gods: as if it had not been more satisfactory to irritate the gods by temperance, than to pacify them by debauchery; and to provoke their hate by honest living, than soothe it by such unseemly grossness. For no matter how cruel was the ferocity of those men who were threatening the state, and on whose account the gods were being propitiated: it could not have been more hurtful than the alliance of gods who were won with the foulest vices. To avert the danger which threatened men's bodies, the gods were conciliated in a fashion that drove virtue from their spirits; and the gods did not enrol themselves as defenders of the battlements against the besiegers, until they had first stormed and sacked the morality of the citizens. This propitiation of such divinities,—a propitiation so wanton, so impure, so immodest, so wicked, so filthy, whose actors the innate and praiseworthy virtue of the Romans disabled from civic honours, erased from their tribe, recognised as polluted and made infamous;—this propitiation, I say, so foul, so detestable, and alien from every religious feeling, these fabulous and ensnaring accounts of the criminal actions of the gods, these scandalous actions which they either shamefully and wickedly committed, or more shamefully and wickedly feigned, all this the whole city learned in public both by the words and gestures of the actors. They saw that the gods delighted in the commission of these things, and therefore believed that they wished them not only to be exhibited to them, but to be imitated by themselves. But as for that good and honest instruction which they speak of, it was given in such secrecy, and to so few (if indeed given at all), that they seemed rather to fear it might be divulged, than that it might not be practised.

Cicero was a respected man and, in his own way, a philosopher. When he was about to become an aedile, he wanted the citizens to understand¹¹¹ his duties. Among them was the duty to appease Flora by holding games. These games were considered more devout the more obscene they were. Elsewhere,¹¹² when he was consul and the state was in great danger, he spoke of games held for ten days. He said nothing had been left undone to appease the gods. But surely it would have been better to anger the gods by self-restraint than appease them by debauchery. It would have been better to provoke their hatred by honest living than soothe it with such indecent behavior. The men threatening the state were fierce and cruel. The gods were being appeased because of them. But however cruel those men were, they could not have done more harm than gods won over by the foulest vices. To protect people’s bodies from danger, the Romans appeased the gods in a way that drove virtue from their souls. The gods would not defend the city walls against the besiegers until they had first stormed and plundered the citizens’ morals. This worship of such gods was so wanton, impure, shameless, wicked, and filthy that the Romans’ own praiseworthy virtue barred its performers from public office. It also removed them from their tribe, branded them as polluted, and made them infamous. This worship was foul, hateful, and contrary to every religious feeling. The stories told in it were seductive fictions about the gods’ crimes. The gods either committed these shameful and wicked acts, or still more shamefully and wickedly pretended to do so. The whole city learned all this in public, from the actors’ words and gestures. People saw that the gods delighted in these acts. So they believed the gods wanted people not only to perform them before the gods, but also to imitate them. As for the good and honest teaching people speak of, it was given in great secrecy and to very few, if it was given at all. Its teachers seemed more afraid that it might become known than that it might not be practiced.

28. That the Christian religion is health-giving.

28. That the Christian religion brings health.

They, then, are but abandoned and ungrateful wretches, in deep and fast bondage to that malign spirit, who complain and murmur that men are rescued by the name of Christ from the hellish thraldom of these unclean spirits, and from a participation in their punishment, and are brought out of the night of pestilential ungodliness into the light of most healthful piety. Only such men could murmur that the masses flock to the churches and their chaste acts of worship, where a seemly separation of the sexes is observed; where they learn how they may so spend this earthly life, as to merit a blessed eternity hereafter; where Holy Scripture and instruction in righteousness are proclaimed from a raised platform in presence of all, that both they who do the word may hear to their salvation, and they who do it not may hear to judgment. And though some enter who scoff at such precepts, all their petulance is either quenched by a sudden change, or is restrained through fear or shame. For no filthy and wicked action is there set forth to be gazed at or to be imitated; but either the precepts of the true God are recommended, His miracles narrated, His gifts praised, or His benefits implored.

Those who complain and grumble are abandoned and ungrateful wretches, held in deep and lasting bondage to that evil spirit. They complain that the name of Christ rescues people from enslavement to these unclean spirits and from sharing their punishment. They complain that people are brought out of the darkness of deadly ungodliness into the light of life-giving devotion to God. Only such people could grumble that crowds flock to churches and their pure worship, where men and women are properly separated. There they learn how to live on earth so as to deserve a blessed eternity afterward. Holy Scripture and teaching about righteous living are proclaimed from a raised platform before everyone. Those who obey the word hear it for their salvation. Those who do not obey it hear it to their judgment. Some who enter scoff at these teachings. Yet all their defiance is either extinguished by a sudden change of heart or held in check by fear or shame. No filthy or wicked act is put on display there for people to watch or imitate. Instead, the commands of the true God are commended, his miracles are recounted, his gifts are praised, or his blessings are sought.

29. An exhortation to the Romans to renounce paganism.

29. A call to the Romans to abandon paganism.

This, rather, is the religion worthy of your desires, O admirable Roman race,—the progeny of your Scævolas and Scipios, of Regulus, and of Fabricius. This rather covet, this distinguish from that foul vanity and crafty malice of the devils. If there is in your nature any eminent virtue, only by true piety is it purged and perfected, while by impiety it is wrecked and punished. Choose now what you will pursue, that your praise may be not in yourself, but in the true God, in whom is no error. For of popular glory you have had your share; but by the secret providence of God, the true religion was not offered to your choice. Awake, it is now day; as you have already awaked in the persons of some in whose perfect virtue and sufferings for the true faith we glory: for they, contending on all sides with hostile powers, and conquering them all by bravely dying, have purchased for us this country of ours with their blood; to which country we invite you, and exhort you to add yourselves to the number of the citizens of this city, which also has a sanctuary¹¹³ of its own in the true remission of sins. Do not listen to those degenerate sons of thine who slander Christ and Christians, and impute to them these disastrous times, though they desire times in which they may enjoy rather impunity for their wickedness than a peaceful life. Such has never been Rome's ambition even in regard to her earthly country. Lay hold now on the celestial country, which is easily won, and in which you will reign truly and for ever. For there shalt thou find no vestal fire, no Capitoline stone, but the one true God

This is the religion worthy of your desires, admirable Roman people, descendants of the Scaevolas and Scipios, of Regulus and Fabricius. Desire this instead, and distinguish it from the foul emptiness and cunning malice of the devils. If there is any outstanding virtue in your nature, only true devotion to God can purify and perfect it. Without that devotion, it is ruined and punished. Choose now what you will pursue. Then your praise will rest not in yourself, but in the true God, in whom there is no error. You have had your share of public glory. But by God’s hidden providence, the true religion was not offered for you to choose. Awake, for it is now day. You have already awakened in some of your people. We glory in their perfect virtue and their suffering for the true faith. They fought hostile powers on every side and conquered them all by dying bravely. With their blood, they purchased this country of ours for us. We invite you to this country and urge you to join the citizens of this city. It too has a sanctuary¹¹³ of its own, in the true forgiveness of sins. Do not listen to your corrupt sons who slander Christ and Christians and blame them for these disastrous times. Those sons want times when they can escape punishment for their wickedness, rather than live in peace. That has never been Rome’s ambition, even concerning her earthly country. Take hold now of the heavenly country. It is easily won, and there you will truly reign forever. For there you will find no vestal fire, no Capitoline stone, but the one true God.

No longer, then, follow after false and deceitful gods; abjure them rather, and despise them, bursting forth into true liberty. Gods they are not, but malignant spirits, to whom your eternal happiness will be a sore punishment. Juno, from whom you deduce your origin according to the flesh, did not so bitterly grudge Rome's citadels to the Trojans, as these devils whom yet ye repute gods, grudge an everlasting seat to the race of mankind. And thou thyself hast in no wavering voice passed judgment on them, when thou didst pacify them with games, and yet didst account as infamous the men by whom the plays were acted. Suffer us, then, to assert thy freedom against the unclean spirits who had imposed on thy neck the yoke of celebrating their own shame and filthiness. The actors of these divine crimes thou hast removed from offices of honour; supplicate the true God, that He may remove from thee those gods who delight in their crimes,—a most disgraceful thing if the crimes are really theirs, and a most malicious invention if the crimes are feigned. Well done, in that thou hast spontaneously banished from the number of your citizens all actors and players. Awake more fully: the majesty of God cannot be propitiated by that which defiles the dignity of man. How, then, can you believe that gods who take pleasure in such lewd plays, belong to the number of the holy powers of heaven, when the men by whom these plays are acted are by yourselves refused admission into the number of Roman citizens even of the lowest grade? Incomparably more glorious than Rome, is that heavenly city in which for victory you have truth; for dignity, holiness; for peace, felicity; for life, eternity. Much less does it admit into its society such gods, if thou dost blush to admit into thine such men. Wherefore, if thou wouldst attain to the blessed city, shun the society of devils. They who are propitiated by deeds of shame, are unworthy of the worship of right-hearted men. Let these, then, be obliterated from your worship by the cleansing of the Christian religion, as those men were blotted from your citizenship by the censor's mark.

Stop following false and deceitful gods. Renounce and despise them instead, and break free into true liberty. They are not gods, but evil spirits. Your eternal happiness would be a bitter punishment to them. Juno was said to be the ancestor of your people by birth. Yet she did not resent the Trojans’ possession of Rome’s citadels as bitterly as these demons resent an eternal home for humanity. And you still regard these demons as gods. You yourself have judged them without hesitation. You appeased them with games, yet regarded the men who performed in the plays as disgraced. Let us, then, defend your freedom against these impure spirits. They forced you to bear the burden of celebrating their shameful and filthy deeds. You have barred the actors who portray these divine crimes from positions of honor. Pray to the true God to rid you of those gods who delight in their crimes. If the crimes are really theirs, that delight is utterly disgraceful. If the crimes are invented, their delight is a most malicious invention. You did well to banish all actors and players from among your citizens of your own accord. Wake up more fully. What stains human dignity cannot please the majesty of God. How, then, can you believe that gods who enjoy such indecent plays belong among the holy powers of heaven? You yourselves refuse to admit the men who perform them even among the lowest ranks of Roman citizens. The heavenly city is incomparably more glorious than Rome. There, truth is your victory, holiness your dignity, happiness your peace, and eternity your life. That city is far less likely to admit such gods into its company, if you blush to admit such men into yours. So, if you wish to reach the blessed city, avoid the company of demons. Those who are appeased by shameful deeds are unworthy of worship by people of upright hearts. Let the Christian religion cleanse your worship of these gods. In the same way, the censor’s mark struck those men from your citizenship.

But, so far as regards carnal benefits, which are the only blessings the wicked desire to enjoy, and carnal miseries, which alone they shrink from enduring, we will show in the following book that the demons have not the power they are supposed to have; and although they had it, we ought rather on that account to despise these blessings, than for the sake of them to worship those gods, and by worshipping them to miss the attainment of these blessings they grudge us. But that they have not even this power which is ascribed to them by those who worship them for the sake of temporal advantages, this, I say, I will prove in the following book; so let us here close the present argument.

The wicked desire only worldly blessings and fear only worldly suffering. In the next book, I will show that demons do not have the power people think they have over these things. Even if they did, we should despise these blessings rather than worship those gods to obtain them. By worshiping them, we would fail to obtain the blessings they begrudge us. But I will prove in the next book that demons do not even have this power. Their worshipers attribute it to them in hopes of gaining worldly advantages. Let us therefore close the present argument here.