Book Six

In the five former books, I think I have sufficiently disputed against those who believe that the many false gods, which the Christian truth shows to be useless images, or unclean spirits and pernicious demons, or certainly creatures, not the Creator, are to be worshipped for the advantage of this mortal life, and of terrestrial affairs, with that rite and service which the Greeks call λατρεία, and which is due to the one true God. And who does not know that, in the face of excessive stupidity and obstinacy, neither these five nor any other number of books whatsoever could be enough, when it is esteemed the glory of vanity to yield to no amount of strength on the side of truth,—certainly to his destruction over whom so heinous a vice tyrannizes? For, notwithstanding all the assiduity of the physician who attempts to effect a cure, the disease remains unconquered, not through any fault of his, but because of the incurableness of the sick man. But those who thoroughly weigh the things which they read, having understood and considered them, without any, or with no great and excessive degree of that obstinacy which belongs to a long-cherished error, will more readily judge that, in the five books already finished, we have done more than the necessity of the question demanded, than that we have given it less discussion than it required. And they cannot have doubted but that all the hatred which the ignorant attempt to bring upon the Christian religion on account of the disasters of this life, and the destruction and change which befall terrestrial things, whilst the learned do not merely dissimulate, but encourage that hatred, contrary to their own consciences, being possessed by a mad impiety;—they cannot have doubted, I say, but that this hatred is devoid of right reflection and reason, and full of most light temerity, and most pernicious animosity.

In the previous five books, I believe I have sufficiently argued against those who worship many false gods. They worship them for benefits in this mortal life and in earthly affairs. They offer them the worship and service the Greeks call λατρεία, which is due to the one true God. Christian truth shows these gods to be useless images, or unclean spirits and harmful demons, or at least creatures, not the Creator. Everyone knows that neither these five books nor any number of books could overcome extreme stupidity and obstinacy. Some take vain pride in refusing to yield, however strong the evidence for truth. Anyone ruled by so dreadful a vice will surely be destroyed. A physician may work tirelessly to heal a patient, yet the disease remains undefeated. This is no fault of the physician, but because the patient cannot be cured. Others carefully weigh what they read, understand it, and consider it. They have little or none of the extreme obstinacy that comes from holding an error for a long time. They will more readily judge that these five books have given the question more attention than necessary, rather than too little. Nor can they have doubted that all the hatred stirred up against the Christian religion is unreasonable and thoughtless. The ignorant stir up this hatred because of life's disasters and the destruction and changes that affect earthly things. The learned do not merely pretend to share it. Driven by a mad contempt for God, they encourage it against their own consciences. All this hatred, I say, is without sound reflection or reason, and full of reckless rashness and deeply harmful hostility.

1. Of those who maintain that they worship the gods not for the sake of temporal, but eternal advantages.

1. About those who claim they worship the gods for eternal benefits, not earthly ones.

Now, as, in the next place (as the promised order demands), those are to be refuted and taught who contend that the gods of the nations, which the Christian truth destroys, are to be worshipped not on account of this life, but on account of that which is to be after death, I shall do well to commence my disputation with the truthful oracle of the holy psalm, "Blessed is the man whose hope is the Lord God, and who respecteth not Vanities and lying follies."²²⁶ Nevertheless, in all vanities and lying follies the philosophers are to be listened to with far more toleration, who have repudiated those opinions and errors of the people; for the people set up images to the deities, and either feigned concerning those whom they call immortal gods many false and unworthy things, or believed them, already feigned, and, when believed, mixed them up with their worship and sacred rites.

Next, as promised, I must refute and instruct those who argue that the gods of the nations should be worshipped. Christian truth destroys these gods. Their defenders say they should be worshipped not for the sake of this life, but for the life after death. I will begin my argument with the true words of the holy psalm: “Blessed is the man whose hope is the Lord God, and who does not regard vanities and lying follies.”²²⁶ Nevertheless, among all these vanities and lying follies, we should be far more tolerant when listening to the philosophers. They have rejected the opinions and errors of the people. The people set up images of the gods. They either invented many false and unworthy stories about those they call immortal gods, or believed stories already invented. Having believed them, they brought them into their worship and sacred rites.

With those men who, though not by free avowal of their convictions, do still testify that they disapprove of those things by their muttering disapprobation during disputations on the subject, it may not be very far amiss to discuss the following question: Whether, for the sake of the life which is to be after death, we ought to worship, not the one God, who made all creatures spiritual and corporeal, but those many gods who, as some of these philosophers hold, were made by that one God, and placed by Him in their respective sublime spheres, and are therefore considered more excellent and more noble than all the others?²²⁷ But who will assert that it must be affirmed and contended that those gods, certain of whom I have mentioned in the fourth book,²²⁸ to whom are distributed, each to each, the charges of minute things, do bestow eternal life? But will those most skilled and most acute men, who glory in having written for the great benefit of men, to teach on what account each god is to be worshipped, and what is to be sought from each, lest with most disgraceful absurdity, such as a mimic is wont for the sake of merriment to exhibit, water should be sought from Liber, wine from the Lymphs,—will those men indeed affirm to any man supplicating the immortal gods, that when he shall have asked wine from the Lymphs, and they shall have answered him, "We have water, seek wine from Liber," he may rightly say, "If ye have not wine, at least give me eternal life?" What more monstrous than this absurdity? Will not these Lymphs,—for they are wont to be very easily made laugh,²²⁹—laughing loudly (if they do not attempt to deceive like demons), answer the suppliant, "O man, dost thou think that we have life (vitam) in our power, who thou hearest have not even the vine (vitem)?" It is therefore most impudent folly to seek and hope for eternal life from such gods as are asserted so to preside over the separate minute concernments of this most sorrowful and short life, and whatever is useful for supporting and propping it, as that if anything which is under the care and power of one be sought from another, it is so incongruous and absurd that it appears very like to mimic drollery,—which, when it is done by mimics knowing what they are doing, is deservedly laughed at in the theatre, but when it is done by foolish persons, who do not know better, is more deservedly ridiculed in the world. Wherefore, as concerns those gods which the states have established, it has been cleverly invented and handed down to memory by learned men, what god or goddess is to be supplicated in relation to every particular thing,—what, for instance, is to be sought from Liber, what from the Lymphs, what from Vulcan, and so of all the rest, some of whom I have mentioned in the fourth book, and some I have thought right to omit. Further, if it is an error to seek wine from Ceres, bread from Liber, water from Vulcan, fire from the Lymphs, how much greater absurdity ought it to be thought, if supplication be made to any one of these for eternal life?

Some men do not openly state their convictions. Yet, when these matters are debated, they mutter their disapproval. It may be worthwhile to discuss the following question with them. For the sake of life after death, should we worship many gods instead of the one God? He made all creatures, both spiritual and physical. Some philosophers hold that these many gods were made by the one God. They say that he placed them in their exalted spheres, and that they are therefore considered more excellent and noble than all other creatures.²²⁷ But who will insist that those gods bestow eternal life? Each of them has been assigned responsibility for some small matter, and I mentioned certain of them in the fourth book.²²⁸ Consider those highly learned and discerning men who boast that their writings have greatly benefited humanity. They teach why each god should be worshipped and what should be asked of each. Their aim is to prevent the shameful absurdity of asking Liber for water or the Lymphs for wine. A comic actor might do such a thing for a laugh. But would those men really say the following to someone praying to the immortal gods? Suppose he asks the Lymphs for wine, and they answer, "We have water. Ask Liber for wine." Could he rightly say, "If you have no wine, at least give me eternal life"? What could be more outrageously absurd? The Lymphs are said to laugh very easily.²²⁹ So, unless they try to deceive him as demons do, would they not laugh loudly and answer him? They might say, "Man, do you think we have life (vitam) in our power, when you hear that we do not even have the vine (vitem)?" It is therefore the most shameless folly to seek and hope for eternal life from such gods. They are said to oversee the separate, minor concerns of this very sorrowful and short life. They also oversee whatever is useful for sustaining and supporting it. Yet asking one god for something under another's care and power is so inappropriate and absurd that it resembles a comic performance. When actors do this knowingly, people rightly laugh at it in the theatre. But when foolish people do it because they know no better, the world has even more reason to ridicule them. As for the gods established by the states, learned men have cleverly devised and handed down instructions. These say which god or goddess should be asked about each particular thing. They tell us, for example, what to ask of Liber, what to ask of the Lymphs, what to ask of Vulcan, and so on for all the rest. I mentioned some of them in the fourth book and thought it right to omit others. If it is a mistake to ask Ceres for wine, Liber for bread, Vulcan for water, or the Lymphs for fire, how much more absurd must it be to ask any one of them for eternal life?

Wherefore, if, when we were inquiring what gods or goddesses are to be believed to be able to confer earthly kingdoms upon men, all things having been discussed, it was shown to be very far from the truth to think that even terrestrial kingdoms are established by any of those many false deities, is it not most insane impiety to believe that eternal life, which is, without any doubt or comparison, to be preferred to all terrestrial kingdoms, can be given to any one by any of these gods? For the reason why such gods seemed to us not to be able to give even an earthly kingdom, was not because they are very great and exalted, whilst that is something small and abject, which they, in their so great sublimity, would not condescend to care for, but because, however deservedly any one may, in consideration of human frailty, despise the falling pinnacles of an earthly kingdom, these gods have presented such an appearance as to seem most unworthy to have the granting and preserving of even those entrusted to them; and consequently, if (as we have taught in the two last books of our work, where this matter is treated of) no god out of all that crowd, either belonging to, as it were, the plebeian or to the noble gods, is fit to give mortal kingdoms to mortals, how much less is he able to make immortals of mortals?

We have asked which gods or goddesses should be thought capable of granting earthly kingdoms to human beings. After examining everything, we showed that it is far from true that any of these many false gods establish even earthly kingdoms. Eternal life is unquestionably and incomparably better than any earthly kingdom. Is it not, then, utterly insane and impious to believe that any of these gods can grant it to anyone? We did not conclude that these gods cannot grant even an earthly kingdom because they are so great and exalted. Nor did we think an earthly kingdom was too small and lowly for them to care about. Rather, they have shown themselves utterly unworthy to be entrusted with granting or preserving even such kingdoms. This remains true however rightly one may despise the crumbling heights of an earthly kingdom, given human frailty. As we taught in the last two books of this work, no god among that whole crowd can grant mortal kingdoms to mortals. This applies both to the gods who are, so to speak, commoners and to the noble gods. If none is fit to grant mortal kingdoms, how much less can any of them make mortals immortal?

And more than this, if, according to the opinion of those with whom we are now arguing, the gods are to be worshipped, not on account of the present life, but of that which is to be after death, then, certainly, they are not to be worshipped on account of those particular things which are distributed and portioned out (not by any law of rational truth, but by mere vain conjecture) to the power of such gods, as they believe they ought to be worshipped, who contend that their worship is necessary for all the desirable things of this mortal life, against whom I have disputed sufficiently, as far as I was able, in the five preceding books. These things being so, if the age itself of those who worshipped the goddess Juventas should be characterized by remarkable vigour, whilst her despisers should either die within the years of youth, or should, during that period, grow cold as with the torpor of old age; if bearded Fortuna should cover the cheeks of her worshippers more handsomely and more gracefully than all others, whilst we should see those by whom she was despised either altogether beardless or ill-bearded; even then we should most rightly say, that thus far these several gods had power, limited in some way by their functions, and that, consequently, neither ought eternal life to be sought from Juventas, who could not give a beard, nor ought any good thing after this life to be expected from Fortuna Barbata, who has no power even in this life to give the age itself at which the beard grows. But now, when their worship is necessary not even on account of those very things which they think are subjected to their power,—for many worshippers of the goddess Juventas have not been at all vigorous at that age, and many who do not worship her rejoice in youthful strength; and also many suppliants of Fortuna Barbata have either not been able to attain to any beard at all, not even an ugly one, although they who adore her in order to obtain a beard are ridiculed by her bearded despisers,—is the human heart really so foolish as to believe that that worship of the gods, which it acknowledges to be vain and ridiculous with respect to those very temporal and swiftly passing gifts, over each of which one of these gods is said to preside, is fruitful in results with respect to eternal life? And that they are able to give eternal life has not been affirmed even by those who, that they might be worshipped by the silly populace, distributed in minute division among them these temporal occupations, that none of them might sit idle; for they had supposed the existence of an exceedingly great number.

Moreover, those we are now arguing with say that the gods should be worshipped for life after death, not for this life. If so, the gods should certainly not be worshipped for the particular things assigned to their power. These things were assigned not according to any principle of rational truth, but by mere empty guesswork. Others believe the gods should be worshipped for these things. They argue that worship is necessary to obtain all the desirable things of this mortal life. I have argued against them sufficiently, as far as I was able, in the preceding five books. Suppose, then, that those who worshipped the goddess Juventas were remarkably vigorous in their youth. Suppose also that those who scorned her either died young or became sluggish in youth, as if weakened by old age. Suppose that Fortuna Barbata, the bearded goddess, gave her worshippers more handsome and graceful beards than anyone else. Suppose also that those who scorned her had either no beard or an ugly one. Even then, we would rightly say that each god’s power extended only this far and was somehow limited by its assigned function. Therefore, no one should seek eternal life from Juventas, who could not give a beard. Nor should anyone expect any good thing after this life from Fortuna Barbata. For even in this life she cannot grant the age at which a beard grows. But in fact, worship of these gods is not necessary even for the things supposedly under their power. Many worshippers of Juventas have not been vigorous in youth, while many who do not worship her enjoy youthful strength. Likewise, many who pray to Fortuna Barbata have been unable to grow any beard at all, not even an ugly one. Yet those who worship her to obtain a beard are mocked by bearded men who scorn her. Can the human heart really be so foolish as to believe that worship of the gods brings eternal life? It admits that such worship is useless and ridiculous even for those temporary and quickly passing gifts that each god supposedly controls. Even those who divided these temporary duties so finely among the gods never claimed that they could give eternal life. They made this division so that the foolish populace would worship the gods and none would sit idle. For they believed there were an exceedingly large number of gods.

Who has investigated those things more carefully than Marcus Varro? Who has discovered them more learnedly? Who has considered them more attentively? Who has distinguished them more acutely? Who has written about them more diligently and more fully?—who, though he is less pleasing in his eloquence, is nevertheless so full of instruction and wisdom, that in all the erudition which we call secular, but they liberal, he will teach the student of things as much as Cicero delights the student of words. And even Tully himself renders him such testimony, as to say in his Academic books that he had held that disputation which is there carried on with Marcus Varro, "a man," he adds, "unquestionably the acutest of all men, and, without any doubt, the most learned."²³⁰ He does not say the most eloquent or the most fluent, for in reality he was very deficient in this faculty, but he says, "of all men the most acute." And in those books,—that is, the Academic,—where he contends that all things are to be doubted, he adds of him, "without any doubt the most learned." In truth, he was so certain concerning this thing, that he laid aside that doubt which he is wont to have recourse to in all things, as if, when about to dispute in favour of the doubt of the Academics, he had, with respect to this one thing, forgotten that he was an Academic. But in the first book, when he extols the literary works of the same Varro, he says, "Us straying and wandering in our own city like strangers, thy books, as it were, brought home, that at length we might come to know of who we were and where we were. Thou hast opened up to us the age of the country, the distribution of seasons, the laws of sacred things, and of the priests; thou hast opened up to us domestic and public discipline; thou hast pointed out to us the proper places for religious ceremonies, and hast informed us concerning sacred places. Thou hast shown us the names, kinds, offices, causes of all divine and human things."²³¹

Who has investigated these things more carefully than Marcus Varro? Who has discovered them with greater learning? Who has considered them more attentively? Who has distinguished them more sharply? Who has written about them more diligently and more fully? His eloquence is less pleasing, but he is so full of knowledge and wisdom that he teaches the student of things as much as Cicero delights the student of words. This is true throughout the learning we call secular, but they call liberal. Cicero himself, also known as Tully, gives Varro this praise in his Academic books. He says that he held the discussion recorded there with Marcus Varro, "a man unquestionably the sharpest of all men and, without any doubt, the most learned."²³⁰ He does not call him the most eloquent or the most fluent. In fact, Varro was very deficient in that ability. But Cicero calls him "the sharpest of all men." In those same books, the Academic books, Cicero argues that everything should be doubted. Yet he adds that Varro was "without any doubt the most learned." He was so certain of this that he set aside the doubt he usually applied to everything. It was as if, just as he was about to argue for the doubt of the Academics, he had forgotten, on this one point, that he was an Academic. In the first book, Cicero praises Varro's writings: "We were lost and wandering in our own city like strangers. Your books, as it were, brought us home, so that at last we could know who and where we were. You have revealed to us the age of our country, the division of the seasons, and the laws governing sacred matters and priests. You have revealed our private and public practices. You have shown us the proper places for religious ceremonies and taught us about sacred places. You have shown us the names, kinds, functions, and causes of all divine and human things."²³¹

This man, then, of so distinguished and excellent acquirements, and, as Terentian briefly says of him in a most elegant verse,

This man, then, had such distinguished and excellent accomplishments. As Terentian briefly says of him in a graceful verse,

who read so much that we wonder when he had time to write, wrote so much that we can scarcely believe any one could have read it all,—this man, I say, so great in talent, so great in learning, had he been an opposer and destroyer of the so-called divine things of which he wrote, and had he said that they pertained to superstition rather than to religion, might perhaps, even in that case, not have written so many things which are ridiculous, contemptible, detestable. But when he so worshipped these same gods, and so vindicated their worship, as to say, in that same literary work of his, that he was afraid lest they should perish, not by an assault by enemies, but by the negligence of the citizens, and that from this ignominy they are being delivered by him, and are being laid up and preserved in the memory of the good by means of such books, with a zeal far more beneficial than that through which Metellus is declared to have rescued the sacred things of Vesta from the flames, and Æneas to have rescued the Penates from the burning of Troy; and when he, nevertheless, gives forth such things to be read by succeeding ages as are deservedly judged by wise and unwise to be unfit to be read, and to be most hostile to the truth of religion; what ought we to think but that a most acute and learned man,—not, however, made free by the Holy Spirit,—was overpowered by the custom and laws of his state, and, not being able to be silent about those things by which he was influenced, spoke of them under pretence of commending religion?

He read so much that we wonder when he found time to write. Yet he wrote so much that we can scarcely believe anyone could have read it all. This man was so gifted and so learned. Suppose he had opposed and sought to destroy the so-called divine things he wrote about. Suppose he had called them superstition rather than religion. Even then, perhaps he would not have written so many things that are ridiculous, contemptible, and detestable. Yet he worshipped these same gods and defended their worship. In that same work, he said he feared they would perish. He feared this would happen not through an attack by enemies, but through the citizens’ neglect. He claimed that he was saving the gods from this disgrace through his books. By those books, he said, he was storing and preserving them in the memory of good people. His zeal, he claimed, was far more beneficial than that of Metellus, who is said to have rescued Vesta’s sacred objects from the flames, or of Aeneas, who is said to have rescued the Penates from burning Troy. Nevertheless, he left things for later generations to read that both the wise and the unwise rightly judge unfit to be read and utterly hostile to the truth of religion. What should we conclude? This most perceptive and learned man had not been set free by the Holy Spirit. He was overcome by the customs and laws of his state. He could not remain silent about the things that influenced him, so he spoke of them under the pretense of praising religion.

3. Varro's distribution of his book which he composed concerning the antiquities of human and divine things.

3. How Varro organized his book on ancient human and divine matters.

He wrote forty-one books of antiquities. These he divided into human and divine things. Twenty-five he devoted to human things, sixteen to divine things; following this plan in that division,—namely, to give six books to each of the four divisions of human things. For he directs his attention to these considerations: who perform, where they perform, when they perform, what they perform. Therefore in the first six books he wrote concerning men; in the second six, concerning places; in the third six, concerning times; in the fourth and last six, concerning things. Four times six, however, make only twenty-four. But he placed at the head of them one separate work, which spoke of all these things conjointly.

He wrote forty-one books about antiquities, dividing them into human and divine matters. He devoted twenty-five books to human matters and sixteen to divine matters. He divided human matters into four parts, giving six books to each. He considered who performs actions, where they perform them, when they perform them, and what they perform. The first six books concerned people, the second six places, the third six times, and the last six actions. But four times six is only twenty-four. He placed one separate work at the beginning that dealt with all these matters together.

In divine things, the same order he preserved throughout, as far as concerns those things which are performed to the gods. For sacred things are performed by men in places and times. These four things I have mentioned he embraced in twelve books, allotting three to each. For he wrote the first three concerning men, the following three concerning places, the third three concerning times, and the fourth three concerning sacred rites,—showing who should perform, where they should perform, when they should perform, what they should perform, with most subtle distinction. But because it was necessary to say—and that especially was expected—to whom they should perform sacred rites, he wrote concerning the gods themselves the last three books; and these five times three made fifteen. But they are in all, as we have said, sixteen. For he put also at the beginning of these one distinct book, speaking by way of introduction of all which follows; which being finished, he proceeded to subdivide the first three in that fivefold distribution which pertain to men, making the first concerning high priests, the second concerning augurs, the third concerning the fifteen men presiding over the sacred ceremonies.²³³ The second three he made concerning places, speaking in one of them concerning their chapels, in the second concerning their temples, and in the third concerning religious places. The next three which follow these, and pertain to times,—that is, to festival days,—he distributed so as to make one concerning holidays, the other concerning the circus games, and the third concerning scenic plays. Of the fourth three, pertaining to sacred things, he devoted one to consecrations, another to private, the last to public, sacred rites. In the three which remain, the gods themselves follow this pompous train, as it were, for whom all this culture has been expended. In the first book are the certain gods, in the second the uncertain, in the third, and last of all, the chief and select gods.

He followed the same order throughout his discussion of divine matters, insofar as they concerned rites performed for the gods. People perform sacred rites in places and at times. He covered these four subjects in twelve books, devoting three to each. The first three concerned people, the next three places, the third set of three times, and the fourth set sacred rites. With great precision, he distinguished who should perform the rites, where and when they should perform them, and what they should perform. But he also had to explain for whom the rites should be performed. This, above all, was expected of him. So he wrote the last three books about the gods themselves. These five sets of three made fifteen books. But, as we have said, there are sixteen in all. He placed a separate book at the beginning as an introduction to everything that followed. After the introduction, he divided the first three books of this five-part arrangement among the subjects concerning people. The first concerned high priests, the second augurs, and the third the fifteen men who presided over sacred ceremonies.²³³ The next three books concerned places. One dealt with chapels, the second with temples, and the third with religious places. The following three concerned times, that is, festival days. One dealt with holidays, another with circus games, and the third with scenic plays. Of the fourth set of three, concerning sacred things, one dealt with consecrations, another with private sacred rites, and the last with public sacred rites. In the three remaining books, the gods themselves follow, as it were, this pompous procession. They are the ones for whom all this observance has been carried out. The first book concerns the certain gods, the second the uncertain gods, and the third and last the chief and select gods.

4. That from the disputation of Varro, it follows that the worshippers of the gods regard human things as more ancient than divine things.

4. Varro’s argument shows that worshippers of the gods regard human things as older than divine things.

In this whole series of most beautiful and most subtle distributions and distinctions, it will most easily appear evident from the things we have said already, and from what is to be said hereafter, to any man who is not, in the obstinacy of his heart, an enemy to himself, that it is vain to seek and to hope for, and even most impudent to wish for eternal life. For these institutions are either the work of men, or of demons,—not of those whom they call good demons, but, to speak more plainly, of unclean, and, without controversy, malign spirits, who with wonderful slyness and secretness suggest to the thoughts of the impious, and sometimes openly present to their understandings, noxious opinions, by which the human mind grows more and more foolish, and becomes unable to adapt itself to and abide in the immutable and eternal truth, and seek to confirm these opinions by every kind of fallacious attestation in their power. This very same Varro testifies that he wrote first concerning human things, but afterwards concerning divine things, because the states existed first, and afterward these things were instituted by them. But the true religion was not instituted by any earthly state, but plainly it established the celestial city. It, however, is inspired and taught by the true God, the giver of eternal life to His true worshippers.

From what we have already said, and what we will say later, one thing will become clear. In this whole series of beautiful and subtle arrangements and distinctions, it is useless to seek or hope for eternal life. Indeed, it is most shameless even to wish for it there. This will be clear to anyone who is not, through stubbornness of heart, an enemy to himself. These institutions are the work either of humans or of demons. They are not the work of those called good demons, but of unclean and unquestionably evil spirits. With remarkable cunning and secrecy, these spirits plant harmful opinions in the thoughts of the ungodly. Sometimes they even present these opinions openly to their minds. As a result, the human mind grows more and more foolish. It becomes unable to embrace and remain in the unchanging and eternal truth. The spirits try to support these opinions with every kind of false evidence they can. This same Varro says that he wrote first about human affairs and then about divine matters. He did so because states existed first and later established these religious institutions. But no earthly state established the true religion. Rather, the true religion clearly established the heavenly city. It is inspired and taught by the true God, who gives eternal life to those who truly worship him.

The following is the reason Varro gives when he confesses that he had written first concerning human things, and afterwards of divine things, because these divine things were instituted by men:—"As the painter is before the painted tablet, the mason before the edifice, so states are before those things which are instituted by states." But he says that he would have written first concerning the gods, afterwards concerning men, if he had been writing concerning the whole nature of the gods,—as if he were really writing concerning some portion of, and not all, the nature of the gods; or as if, indeed, some portion of, though not all, the nature of the gods ought not to be put before that of men. How, then, comes it that in those three last books, when he is diligently explaining the certain, uncertain, and select gods, he seems to pass over no portion of the nature of the gods? Why, then, does he say, "If we had been writing on the whole nature of the gods, we would first have finished the divine things before we touched the human?" For he either writes concerning the whole nature of the gods, or concerning some portion of it, or concerning no part of it at all. If concerning it all, it is certainly to be put before human things; if concerning some part of it, why should it not, from the very nature of the case, precede human things? Is not even some part of the gods to be preferred to the whole of humanity? But if it is too much to prefer a part of the divine to all human things, that part is certainly worthy to be preferred to the Romans at least. For he writes the books concerning human things, not with reference to the whole world, but only to Rome; which books he says he had properly placed, in the order of writing, before the books on divine things, like a painter before the painted tablet, or a mason before the building, most openly confessing that, as a picture or a structure, even these divine things were instituted by men. There remains only the third supposition, that he is to be understood to have written concerning no divine nature, but that he did not wish to say this openly, but left it to the intelligent to infer; for when one says "not all," usage understands that to mean "some," but it may be understood as meaning none, because that which is none is neither all nor some. In fact, as he himself says, if he had been writing concerning all the nature of the gods, its due place would have been before human things in the order of writing. But, as the truth declares, even though Varro is silent, the divine nature should have taken precedence of Roman things, though it were not all, but only some. But it is properly put after, therefore it is none. His arrangement, therefore, was due, not to a desire to give human things priority to divine things, but to his unwillingness to prefer false things to true. For in what he wrote on human things, he followed the history of affairs; but in what he wrote concerning those things which they call divine, what else did he follow but mere conjectures about vain things? This, doubtless, is what, in a subtle manner, he wished to signify; not only writing concerning divine things after the human, but even giving a reason why he did so; for if he had suppressed this, some, perchance, would have defended his doing so in one way, and some in another. But in that very reason he has rendered, he has left nothing for men to conjecture at will, and has sufficiently proved that he preferred men to the institutions of men, not the nature of men to the nature of the gods. Thus he confessed that, in writing the books concerning divine things, he did not write concerning the truth which belongs to nature, but the falseness which belongs to error; which he has elsewhere expressed more openly (as I have mentioned in the fourth book²³⁴), saying that, had he been founding a new city himself, he would have written according to the order of nature; but as he had only found an old one, he could not but follow its custom.

Varro admits that he wrote first about human matters and afterward about divine matters. He gives this reason: divine matters were established by human beings. "Just as the painter comes before the painted panel, and the builder before the building, so states come before what they establish." But he says he would have written about the gods first and human beings afterward if he had been writing about the whole nature of the gods. He speaks as if he were writing about only some part of their nature, not all of it. Or as if even some part of the nature of the gods should not come before human nature. How, then, does he seem to leave out no part of their nature in his last three books? In them, he carefully explains the certain, uncertain, and select gods. Why, then, does he say, "If we had been writing about the whole nature of the gods, we would have finished the divine matters before touching on the human"? Either he writes about the whole nature of the gods, some part of it, or none of it. If he writes about all of it, it must surely come before human matters. If he writes about some part of it, why should that not come first by its very nature? Should not even some part of the gods be preferred to all humanity? But if it is too much to prefer part of the divine to all human matters, that part surely deserves to be preferred at least to the Romans. For his books on human matters concern only Rome, not the whole world. He says he was right to place these books before those on divine matters, just as a painter comes before a painted panel or a builder before a building. He thus admits quite openly that these divine things, like a picture or a building, were established by human beings. Only the third possibility remains. We must understand that he wrote about no divine nature at all. But he did not wish to say this openly and left intelligent readers to infer it. When someone says "not all," we usually understand that to mean "some." But it may mean none, since none is neither all nor some. In fact, as he himself says, if he had been writing about the whole nature of the gods, it should have come before human matters in his work. But the truth tells us, even though Varro remains silent, that divine nature should have come before Roman matters, even if he had written about only some of it and not all. Yet it is rightly placed afterward. Therefore, it is none. His arrangement was not due to a desire to place human matters before divine matters. Rather, he was unwilling to place false things before true ones. In writing about human matters, he followed the history of events. But in writing about what they call divine, what did he follow except mere guesses about empty things? Doubtless, this is what he subtly meant to suggest. He not only wrote about divine matters after human ones, but also gave his reason for doing so. Had he withheld it, some might perhaps have defended his choice in one way, and others in another. But the reason he gave leaves no room for people to guess as they please. It makes clear enough that he preferred human beings to their own institutions, not human nature to the nature of the gods. He thus admitted that his books on divine matters were not about the truth belonging to nature, but about the falsehood belonging to error. Elsewhere he said this more openly, as I mentioned in the fourth book²³⁴. He said that, had he been founding a new city himself, he would have written according to the order of nature. But because he had found an old city already established, he had no choice but to follow its custom.

5. Concerning the three kinds of theology according to Varro, namely, one fabulous, the other natural, the third civil.

5. On Varro's three kinds of theology: mythical, natural, and civil.

Now what are we to say of this proposition of his, namely, that there are three kinds of theology, that is, of the account which is given of the gods; and of these, the one is called mythical, the other physical, and the third civil? Did the Latin usage permit, we should call the kind which he has placed first in order fabular,²³⁵ but let us call it fabulous,²³⁶ for mythical is derived from the Greek μῦθος, a fable; but that the second should be called natural, the usage of speech now admits; the third he himself has designated in Latin, calling it civil.²³⁷ Then he says, "they call that kind mythical which the poets chiefly use; physical, that which the philosophers use; civil, that which the people use. As to the first I have mentioned," says he, "in it are many fictions, which are contrary to the dignity and nature of the immortals. For we find in it that one god has been born from the head, another from the thigh, another from drops of blood; also, in this we find that gods have stolen, committed adultery, served men; in a word, in this all manner of things are attributed to the gods, such as may befall, not merely any man, but even the most contemptible man." He certainly, where he could, where he dared, where he thought he could do it with impunity, has manifested, without any of the haziness of ambiguity, how great injury was done to the nature of the gods by lying fables; for he was speaking, not concerning natural theology, not concerning civil, but concerning fabulous theology, which he thought he could freely find fault with.

What are we to say of his claim that there are three kinds of theology, or accounts of the gods? He calls them mythical, physical, and civil. If Latin usage allowed it, we would call the first kind fabular.²³⁵ But let us call it fabulous.²³⁶ The word mythical comes from the Greek μῦθος, meaning a fable. Current usage allows us to call the second kind natural. He himself gives the third a Latin name, calling it civil.²³⁷ He then says, "They call the kind chiefly used by poets mythical. They call the kind used by philosophers physical, and the kind used by the people civil. In the first kind I mentioned, there are many fictions contrary to the dignity and nature of the immortals. We find that one god was born from a head, another from a thigh, and another from drops of blood. We also find that gods have stolen, committed adultery, and served men. In short, all kinds of things are attributed to the gods. These are things that could happen not merely to any man, but even to the most contemptible man." He certainly showed, without any ambiguity, how greatly lying fables harmed the nature of the gods. He did so where he could, where he dared, and where he thought he could do so without penalty. For he was speaking neither of natural theology nor of civil theology. He was speaking of fabulous theology, which he thought he could freely criticize.

Let us see, now, what he says concerning the second kind. "The second kind which I have explained," he says, "is that concerning which philosophers have left many books, in which they treat such questions as these: what gods there are, where they are, of what kind and character they are, since what time they have existed, or if they have existed from eternity; whether they are of fire, as Heraclitus believes; or of number, as Pythagoras; or of atoms, as Epicurus says; and other such things, which men's ears can more easily hear inside the walls of a school than outside in the Forum." He finds fault with nothing in this kind of theology which they call physical, and which belongs to philosophers, except that he has related their controversies among themselves, through which there has arisen a multitude of dissentient sects. Nevertheless he has removed this kind from the Forum, that is, from the populace, but he has shut it up in schools. But that first kind, most false and most base, he has not removed from the citizens. Oh, the religious ears of the people, and among them even those of the Romans, that are not able to bear what the philosophers dispute concerning the gods! But when the poets sing and stage-players act such things as are derogatory to the dignity and the nature of the immortals, such as may befall not a man merely, but the most contemptible man, they not only bear, but willingly listen to. Nor is this all, but they even consider that these things please the gods, and that they are propitiated by them.

Let us now consider what he says about the second kind. "The second kind I have explained," he says, "is the subject of many books written by philosophers. In them, they consider questions like these: what gods exist, where they are, and what their nature and character are. They ask when the gods came into existence, or whether they have existed forever. Are they made of fire, as Heraclitus believes? Are they made of number, as Pythagoras believes, or of atoms, as Epicurus says? They consider other such questions, which people can more easily hear within a school than outside in the Forum." He finds no fault with this kind of theology, which they call physical and which belongs to philosophers. He only recounts their disagreements with one another, which have produced many opposing schools of thought. Even so, he has removed this kind from the Forum, that is, from the common people, and confined it to schools. But he has not removed that first kind, so utterly false and degrading, from the citizens. Oh, the religious ears of the people, including even the Romans! They cannot bear to hear what philosophers debate about the gods. Yet poets sing and actors perform things that dishonor the dignity and nature of the immortals. These are things that could happen not merely to a human being, but to the most contemptible person. The people not only tolerate them but listen willingly. And that is not all. They even believe that these things please the gods and win their favor.

But some one may say, Let us distinguish these two kinds of theology, the mythical and the physical,—that is, the fabulous and the natural,—from this civil kind about which we are now speaking. Anticipating this, he himself has distinguished them. Let us see now how he explains the civil theology itself. I see, indeed, why it should be distinguished as fabulous, even because it is false, because it is base, because it is unworthy. But to wish to distinguish the natural from the civil, what else is that but to confess that the civil itself is false? For if that be natural, what fault has it that it should be excluded? And if this which is called civil be not natural, what merit has it that it should be admitted? This, in truth, is the cause why he wrote first concerning human things, and afterwards concerning divine things; since in divine things he did not follow nature, but the institution of men. Let us look at this civil theology of his. "The third kind," says he, "is that which citizens in cities, and especially the priests, ought to know and to administer. From it is to be known what god each one may suitably worship, what sacred rites and sacrifices each one may suitably perform." Let us still attend to what follows. "The first theology," he says, "is especially adapted to the theatre, the second to the world, the third to the city." Who does not see to which he gives the palm? Certainly to the second, which he said above is that of the philosophers. For he testifies that this pertains to the world, than which they think there is nothing better. But those two theologies, the first and the third,—to wit, those of the theatre and of the city,—has he distinguished them or united them? For although we see that the city is in the world, we do not see that it follows that any things belonging to the city pertain to the world. For it is possible that such things may be worshipped and believed in the city, according to false opinions, as have no existence either in the world or out of it. But where is the theatre but in the city? Who instituted the theatre but the state? For what purpose did it constitute it but for scenic plays? And to what class of things do scenic plays belong but to those divine things concerning which these books of Varro's are written with so much ability?

But someone may say, “Let us distinguish these two kinds of theology, the mythical and the physical, meaning the legendary and the natural, from the civil theology we are now discussing.” Anticipating this, Varro himself has distinguished them. Let us now see how he explains civil theology itself. I can see why legendary theology should be set apart. It is false, degrading, and unworthy. But what does it mean to distinguish natural theology from civil theology? Is it not an admission that civil theology itself is false? For if natural theology is natural, what fault does it have that it should be excluded? And if what is called civil theology is not natural, what merit does it have that it should be accepted? This is why he wrote first about human matters and then about divine matters. For in divine matters, he followed human institutions rather than nature. Let us look at his civil theology. “The third kind,” he says, “is what citizens in cities, and especially priests, should know and administer. It tells each person which god they may suitably worship, and which sacred rites and sacrifices they may suitably perform.” Let us continue with what follows. “The first theology,” he says, “is especially suited to the theater, the second to the world, and the third to the city.” Who cannot see which one he considers best? Certainly it is the second, which he earlier said belongs to the philosophers. For he declares that it concerns the world, and they think nothing is better than the world. But has he separated the first and third theologies, those of the theater and the city, or joined them together? We see that the city is in the world. But it does not follow that everything belonging to the city concerns the world. For a city may worship and believe in things based on false opinions, things that exist neither in the world nor outside it. But where is the theater if not in the city? Who established the theater if not the state? Why did it establish it if not for stage plays? And what class of things do stage plays belong to, if not the divine matters Varro treats so skillfully in these books?

6. Concerning the mythic, that is, the fabulous, theology, and the civil, against Varro.

6. On mythic theology, that is, the theology of fables, and civil theology, against Varro.

O Marcus Varro! thou art the most acute, and without doubt the most learned, but still a man, not God,—now lifted up by the Spirit of God to see and to announce divine things, thou seest, indeed, that divine things are to be separated from human trifles and lies, but thou fearest to offend those most corrupt opinions of the populace, and their customs in public superstitions, which thou thyself, when thou considerest them on all sides, perceivest, and all your literature loudly pronounces to be abhorrent from the nature of the gods, even of such gods as the frailty of the human mind supposes to exist in the elements of this world. What can the most excellent human talent do here? What can human learning, though manifold, avail thee in this perplexity? Thou desirest to worship the natural gods; thou art compelled to worship the civil. Thou hast found some of the gods to be fabulous, on whom thou vomitest forth very freely what thou thinkest, and, whether thou willest or not, thou wettest therewith even the civil gods. Thou sayest, forsooth, that the fabulous are adapted to the theatre, the natural to the world, and the civil to the city; though the world is a divine work, but cities and theatres are the works of men, and though the gods who are laughed at in the theatre are not other than those who are adored in the temples; and ye do not exhibit games in honour of other gods than those to whom ye immolate victims. How much more freely and more subtly wouldst thou have decided these hadst thou said that some gods are natural, others established by men; and concerning those who have been so established, the literature of the poets gives one account, and that of the priests another,—both of which are, nevertheless, so friendly the one to the other, through fellowship in falsehood, that they are both pleasing to the demons, to whom the doctrine of the truth is hostile.

O Marcus Varro! You are the most perceptive and, without doubt, the most learned of men. But you are still a man, not God. Now, lifted up by the Spirit of God to see and proclaim divine things, you see that they must be separated from human trifles and lies. Yet you fear offending the deeply corrupt opinions of the people and their customs of public superstition. When you examine these from every angle, you yourself see that they are abhorrent to the nature of the gods. All your literature loudly declares the same. This is true even of the gods that the frail human mind imagines to exist in the elements of this world. What can the finest human talent accomplish here? What good can human learning, however varied, do you in this difficulty? You want to worship the natural gods, but you are compelled to worship the gods of the city. You have found some gods to be mythical, and you freely vomit out what you think of them. Whether you want to or not, you splash the gods of the city as well. You say, of course, that the mythical gods belong to the theater, the natural gods to the world, and the civic gods to the city. Yet the world is a divine work, while cities and theaters are human creations. The gods laughed at in the theater are the very same gods worshiped in the temples. And you put on games in honor of the same gods to whom you offer sacrifices. How much more freely and perceptively you would have judged these matters if you had spoken differently. You could have said that some gods are natural, while others were established by human beings. Of those established by humans, the poets’ literature gives one account and the priests’ literature another. Yet both are so friendly to each other, because they share in falsehood, that both please the demons. The teaching of truth is hostile to those demons.

That theology, therefore, which they call natural, being put aside for a moment, as it is afterwards to be discussed, we ask if any one is really content to seek a hope for eternal life from poetical, theatrical, scenic gods? Perish the thought! The true God avert so wild and sacrilegious a madness! What, is eternal life to be asked from those gods whom these things pleased, and whom these things propitiate, in which their own crimes are represented? No one, as I think, has arrived at such a pitch of headlong and furious impiety. So then, neither by the fabulous nor by the civil theology does any one obtain eternal life. For the one sows base things concerning the gods by feigning them, the other reaps by cherishing them; the one scatters lies, the other gathers them together; the one pursues divine things with false crimes, the other incorporates among divine things the plays which are made up of these crimes; the one sounds abroad in human songs impious fictions concerning the gods, the other consecrates these for the festivities of the gods themselves; the one sings the misdeeds and crimes of the gods, the other loves them; the one gives forth or feigns, the other either attests the true or delights in the false. Both are base; both are damnable. But the one which is theatrical teaches public abomination, and that one which is of the city adorns itself with that abomination. Shall eternal life be hoped for from these, by which this short and temporal life is polluted? Does the society of wicked men pollute our life if they insinuate themselves into our affections, and win our assent? and does not the society of demons pollute the life, who are worshipped with their own crimes?—if with true crimes, how wicked the demons! if with false, how wicked the worship!

Let us set aside what they call natural theology for the moment, since we will discuss it later. Can anyone really be content to seek hope of eternal life from the gods of poetry and the theater? Perish the thought! May the true God turn us away from such wild and sacrilegious madness! Should we ask for eternal life from gods who are pleased and appeased by performances depicting their own crimes? I do not think anyone has reached such a pitch of reckless and furious impiety. So no one obtains eternal life through either mythical theology or civic theology. The first sows shameful things about the gods by inventing them. The second reaps them by cherishing them. The first scatters lies, and the second gathers them. The first falsely accuses the gods of crimes. The second includes plays based on those crimes among its sacred rites. The first spreads impious stories about the gods in human songs. The second consecrates those stories for the gods’ own festivals. The first sings of the gods’ misdeeds and crimes. The second loves them. The first tells or invents them. The second either confirms them as true or delights in them as false. Both are shameful. Both deserve condemnation. But theatrical theology teaches public abominations, while civic theology adorns itself with them. Can we hope for eternal life from these things, which pollute this short and temporary life? Wicked people pollute our lives if they win our affection and gain our approval. Does not the company of demons also pollute our lives, when they are worshipped through their own crimes? If those crimes are true, how wicked the demons are! If they are false, how wicked the worship is!

When we say these things, it may perchance seem to some one who is very ignorant of these matters that only those things concerning the gods which are sung in the songs of the poets and acted on the stage are unworthy of the divine majesty, and ridiculous, and too detestable to be celebrated, whilst those sacred things which not stage-players but priests perform are pure and free from all unseemliness. Had this been so, never would any one have thought that these theatrical abominations should be celebrated in their honour, never would the gods themselves have ordered them to be performed to them. But men are in nowise ashamed to perform these things in the theatres, because similar things are carried on in the temples. In short, when the fore-mentioned author attempted to distinguish the civil theology from the fabulous and natural, as a sort of third and distinct kind, he wished it to be understood to be rather tempered by both than separated from either. For he says that those things which the poets write are less than the people ought to follow, whilst what the philosophers say is more than it is expedient for the people to pry into. "Which," says he, "differ in such a way, that nevertheless not a few things from both of them have been taken to the account of the civil theology; wherefore we will indicate what the civil theology has in common with that of the poet, though it ought to be more closely connected with the theology of philosophers." Civil theology is therefore not quite disconnected from that of the poets. Nevertheless, in another place, concerning the generations of the gods, he says that the people are more inclined toward the poets than toward the physical theologists. For in this place he said what ought to be done; in that other place, what was really done. He said that the latter had written for the sake of utility, but the poets for the sake of amusement. And hence the things from the poets' writings, which the people ought not to follow, are the crimes of the gods; which, nevertheless, amuse both the people and the gods. For, for amusement's sake, he says, the poets write, and not for that of utility; nevertheless they write such things as the gods will desire, and the people perform.

When we say these things, someone very ignorant of these matters might perhaps misunderstand us. Such a person might think that only the stories about the gods sung by poets and acted on stage are unworthy of divine majesty, ridiculous, and too detestable to celebrate. They might think that the sacred rites performed by priests, rather than actors, are pure and free from anything improper. If that were so, no one would ever have thought of celebrating these theatrical abominations in the gods' honor. Nor would the gods themselves have ordered them to be performed in their honor. But people are not at all ashamed to perform these things in theaters, because similar things take place in temples. In short, the author mentioned earlier tried to distinguish civil theology as a third kind, separate from mythical and natural theology. Yet he wanted it understood as a mixture of both, rather than separate from either. He says that what the poets write falls below what the people ought to follow. What the philosophers say, however, goes beyond what it is useful for the people to investigate. “These differ in such a way that many things from both have nevertheless been incorporated into civil theology. So we will point out what civil theology has in common with that of the poets, although it ought to be more closely connected with the theology of the philosophers.” Civil theology is therefore not entirely separate from that of the poets. Nevertheless, elsewhere he says that, concerning the generations of the gods, the people favor the poets over the natural theologians. Here he said what ought to be done. There he said what was actually done. He said that the natural theologians wrote to be useful, while the poets wrote to entertain. Thus, the things in the poets' writings that the people ought not to follow are the crimes of the gods. Yet these entertain both the people and the gods. For he says that the poets write for entertainment, not for usefulness. Nevertheless, they write things that the gods desire and the people perform.

7. Concerning the likeness and agreement of the fabulous and civil theologies.

7. On the similarities and agreement between mythological and civic theology.

That theology, therefore, which is fabulous, theatrical, scenic, and full of all baseness and unseemliness, is taken up into the civil theology; and part of that theology, which in its totality is deservedly judged to be worthy of reprobation and rejection, is pronounced worthy to be cultivated and observed;—not at all an incongruous part, as I have undertaken to show, and one which, being alien to the whole body, was unsuitably attached to and suspended from it, but a part entirely congruous with, and most harmoniously fitted to the rest, as a member of the same body. For what else do those images, forms, ages, sexes, characteristics of the gods show? If the poets have Jupiter with a beard, and Mercury beardless, have not the priests the same? Is the Priapus of the priests less obscene than the Priapus of the players? Does he receive the adoration of worshippers in a different form from that in which he moves about the stage for the amusement of spectators? Is not Saturn old and Apollo young in the shrines where their images stand, as well as when represented by actor's masks? Why are Forculus, who presides over doors, and Limentinus, who presides over thresholds and lintels, male gods, and Cardea between them feminine, who presides over hinges? Are not those things found in books on divine things, which grave poets have deemed unworthy of their verses? Does the Diana of the theatre carry arms, whilst the Diana of the city is simply a virgin? Is the stage Apollo a lyrist, but the Delphic Apollo ignorant of this art? But these things are decent compared with the more shameful things. What was thought of Jupiter himself by those who placed his wet nurse in the Capitol? Did they not bear witness to Euhemerus, who, not with the garrulity of a fable-teller, but with the gravity of an historian who had diligently investigated the matter, wrote that all such gods had been men and mortals? And they who appointed the Epulones as parasites at the table of Jupiter, what else did they wish for but mimic sacred rites? For if any mimic had said that parasites of Jupiter were made use of at his table, he would assuredly have appeared to be seeking to call forth laughter. Varro said it,—not when he was mocking, but when he was commending the gods did he say it. His books on divine, not on human, things testify that he wrote this,—not where he set forth the scenic games, but where he explained the Capitoline laws. In a word, he is conquered, and confesses that, as they made the gods with a human form, so they believed that they are delighted with human pleasures.

So the theology of myths and the theater, full of everything base and indecent, is taken into civic theology. This theology as a whole rightly deserves condemnation and rejection. Yet part of it is declared worthy of worship and observance. As I have set out to show, this part does not clash with the rest. It is not foreign to the whole body, awkwardly attached and left hanging from it. Rather, it is entirely in keeping with the rest, fitting it perfectly like a member of the same body. What else do the gods’ images, forms, ages, sexes, and characteristics show? The poets give Jupiter a beard and leave Mercury beardless. Don’t the priests do the same? Is the priests’ Priapus less obscene than the actors’ Priapus? Does he appear in one form to receive worship and in another to amuse spectators on stage? Isn’t Saturn old and Apollo young in the shrines where their images stand, just as they are in actors’ masks? Forculus presides over doors, and Limentinus over thresholds and lintels. Why are they male gods, while Cardea, who presides over the hinges between them, is female? Aren’t things found in books about divine matters that serious poets have considered unworthy of their verses? Does Diana carry weapons in the theater, while the city’s Diana is merely a virgin? Does Apollo play the lyre on stage, while Apollo at Delphi knows nothing of the art? But these things are respectable compared with the more shameful ones. What did those who placed Jupiter’s wet nurse on the Capitol think of Jupiter himself? Didn’t they support Euhemerus, who wrote that all such gods had been human and mortal? He wrote not with the chatter of a storyteller, but with the seriousness of a historian who had carefully investigated the matter. And what did those who appointed the Epulones as parasites at Jupiter’s table want, except rites that mimicked sacred ones? If a comic actor had said that parasites were employed at Jupiter’s table, he would surely have seemed to be trying to make people laugh. Varro said it. He said it not while mocking the gods, but while praising them. His books on divine matters, not human ones, show that he wrote this. He wrote it not where he described the theatrical games, but where he explained the laws of the Capitol. In short, he is defeated and admits that, just as people made the gods in human form, so they believed the gods took delight in human pleasures.

For also malign spirits were not so wanting to their own business as not to confirm noxious opinions in the minds of men by converting them into sport. Whence also is that story about the sacristan of Hercules, which says that, having nothing to do, he took to playing at dice as a pastime, throwing them alternately with the one hand for Hercules, with the other for himself, with this understanding, that if he should win, he should from the funds of the temple prepare himself a supper, and hire a mistress; but if Hercules should win the game, he himself should, at his own expense, provide the same for the pleasure of Hercules. Then, when he had been beaten by himself, as though by Hercules, he gave to the god Hercules the supper he owed him, and also the most noble harlot Larentina. But she, having fallen asleep in the temple, dreamed that Hercules had had intercourse with her, and had said to her that she would find her payment with the youth whom she should first meet on leaving the temple, and that she was to believe this to be paid to her by Hercules. And so the first youth that met her on going out was the wealthy Tarutius, who kept her a long time, and when he died left her his heir. She, having obtained a most ample fortune, that she should not seem ungrateful for the divine hire, in her turn made the Roman people her heir, which she thought to be most acceptable to the deities; and, having disappeared, the will was found. By which meritorious conduct they say that she gained divine honours.

Evil spirits were not so careless about their own affairs that they failed to reinforce harmful beliefs by turning them into games. This is the source of the story about Hercules’ temple keeper. Having nothing to do, he began playing dice for amusement. He threw with one hand for Hercules and with the other for himself. He agreed that if he won, he would use the temple funds to prepare a dinner and hire a mistress for himself. But if Hercules won, he would provide the same pleasures for Hercules at his own expense. When he was beaten by himself, as if by Hercules, he gave the god the dinner he owed him. He also provided Larentina, a highly esteemed prostitute. She fell asleep in the temple and dreamed that Hercules had sex with her. In the dream, he told her that the first young man she met after leaving the temple would pay her. She was to regard this payment as coming from Hercules. The first young man she met on leaving was the wealthy Tarutius. He kept her as his mistress for a long time and left her his heir when he died. She thus acquired a very large fortune. To avoid appearing ungrateful for the payment from the god, she in turn made the Roman people her heirs. She thought this would be most pleasing to the deities. After she disappeared, her will was found. They say that this worthy act earned her divine honors.

Now had these things been feigned by the poets and acted by the mimics, they would without any doubt have been said to pertain to the fabulous theology, and would have been judged worthy to be separated from the dignity of the civil theology. But when these shameful things,—not of the poets, but of the people; not of the mimics, but of the sacred things; not of the theatres, but of the temples, that is, not of the fabulous, but of the civil theology,—are reported by so great an author, not in vain do the actors represent with theatrical art the baseness of the gods, which is so great; but surely in vain do the priests attempt, by rites called sacred, to represent their nobleness of character, which has no existence. There are sacred rites of Juno; and these are celebrated in her beloved island, Samos, where she was given in marriage to Jupiter. There are sacred rites of Ceres, in which Proserpine is sought for, having been carried off by Pluto. There are sacred rites Venus, in which, her beloved Adonis being slain by a boar's tooth, the lovely youth is lamented. There are sacred rites of the mother of the gods, in which the beautiful youth Atys, loved by her, and castrated by her through a woman's jealousy, is deplored by men who have suffered the like calamity, whom they call Galli. Since, then, these things are more unseemly than all scenic abomination, why is it that they strive to separate, as it were, the fabulous fictions of the poet concerning the gods, as, forsooth, pertaining to the theatre, from the civil theology which they wish to belong to the city, as though they were separating from noble and worthy things, things unworthy and base? Wherefore there is more reason to thank the stage-actors, who have spared the eyes of men, and have not laid bare by theatrical exhibition all the things which are hid by the walls of the temples. What good is to be thought of their sacred rites which are concealed in darkness, when those which are brought forth into the light are so detestable? And certainly they themselves have seen what they transact in secret through the agency of mutilated and effeminate men. Yet they have not been able to conceal those same men miserably and vilely enervated and corrupted. Let them persuade whom they can that they transact anything holy through such men, who, they cannot deny, are numbered, and live among their sacred things. We know not what they transact, but we know through whom they transact; for we know what things are transacted on the stage, where never, even in a chorus of harlots, hath one who is mutilated or an effeminate appeared. And, nevertheless, even these things are acted by vile and infamous characters; for, indeed, they ought not to be acted by men of good character. What, then, are those sacred rites, for the performance of which holiness has chosen such men as not even the obscenity of the stage has admitted?

If poets had invented these things and actors had performed them, they would certainly have been called mythical theology. They would have been judged unworthy of the dignity of civic theology and excluded from it. But these shameful things are reported by a very great author. They belong not to poets but to the people, not to actors but to sacred rites, not to theaters but to temples. In other words, they belong not to mythical theology but to civic theology. So actors do not portray the gods’ great wickedness on stage in vain. But priests surely try in vain to portray their noble character through so-called sacred rites. That noble character does not exist. There are sacred rites of Juno, celebrated on her beloved island of Samos, where she was given in marriage to Jupiter. There are sacred rites of Ceres, in which people search for Proserpine after Pluto has carried her off. There are sacred rites of Venus, in which people mourn her beloved Adonis. The beautiful young man was killed by a boar’s tusk. There are sacred rites of the mother of the gods, in which people lament the beautiful young Atys. She loved him, but in a woman’s jealousy she castrated him. Men who have suffered the same misfortune lament him. They are called Galli. These things are more shameful than every obscenity on the stage. Why, then, do they try to separate the poets’ mythical stories about the gods from civic theology? They claim that the stories belong to the theater, while they want civic theology to belong to the city. They pretend to separate unworthy and base things from noble and worthy ones. We have more reason to thank the actors, who have spared people’s eyes. They have not exposed on stage everything hidden within temple walls. What good can we think of their sacred rites hidden in darkness, when those brought into the light are so detestable? They themselves have certainly seen what they do in secret through mutilated and effeminate men. Yet they have not been able to hide those same men, miserably and shamefully weakened and corrupted. Let them persuade whomever they can that they do anything holy through such men. They cannot deny that these men are counted among those devoted to their sacred rites and live among them. We do not know what they do, but we know through whom they do it. We know what happens on stage, where no mutilated or effeminate man has ever appeared, even in a chorus of prostitutes. Yet even these performances are put on by people of low and infamous character. Indeed, people of good character ought not to perform them. What, then, are these sacred rites, for which holiness has chosen men whom even the obscenity of the stage has not admitted?

8. Concerning the interpretations, consisting of natural explanations, which the pagan teachers attempt to show for their gods.

8. On the natural explanations that pagan teachers offer for their gods.

But all these things, they say, have certain physical, that is, natural interpretations, showing their natural meaning; as though in this disputation we were seeking physics and not theology, which is the account, not of nature, but of God. For although He who is the true God is God, not by opinion, but by nature, nevertheless all nature is not God; for there is certainly a nature of man, of a beast, of a tree, of a stone,—none of which is God. For if, when the question is concerning the mother of the gods, that from which the whole system of interpretation starts certainly is, that the mother of the gods is the earth, why do we make further inquiry? why do we carry our investigation through all the rest of it? What can more manifestly favour them who say that all those gods were men? For they are earth-born in the sense that the earth is their mother. But in the true theology the earth is the work, not the mother, of God. But in whatever way their sacred rites may be interpreted, and, whatever reference they may have to the nature of things, it is not according to nature, but contrary to nature, that men should be effeminates. This disease, this crime, this abomination, has a recognised place among those sacred things, though even depraved men will scarcely be compelled by torments to confess they are guilty of it. Again, if these sacred rites, which are proved to be fouler than scenic abominations, are excused and justified on the ground that they have their own interpretations, by which they are shown to symbolize the nature of things, why are not the poetical things in like manner excused and justified? For many have interpreted even these in like fashion, to such a degree that even that which they say is the most monstrous and most horrible,—namely, that Saturn devoured his own children,—has been interpreted by some of them to mean that length of time, which is signified by the name of Saturn, consumes whatever it begets; or that, as the same Varro thinks, Saturn belongs to seeds which fall back again into the earth from whence they spring. And so one interprets it in one way, and one in another. And the same is to be said of all the rest of this theology.

But they say that all these things have physical, or natural, interpretations that reveal their meaning in nature. They speak as if we were discussing physics rather than theology. Theology is an account not of nature, but of God. The true God is God by nature, not by opinion. Yet not everything in nature is God. Humans, animals, trees, and stones all have a nature, but none of them is God. When they discuss the mother of the gods, their whole interpretation begins with the claim that she is the earth. Why, then, do we inquire further? Why examine all the rest? What could more plainly support those who say that all those gods were men? For they were born of the earth in the sense that the earth is their mother. But in true theology, the earth is God’s work, not his mother. Whatever interpretation is given to their sacred rites, and whatever connection they have to nature, it is unnatural for men to be effeminate. This disease, this crime, this abomination, has an accepted place among those sacred rites. Yet even depraved men can scarcely be forced by torture to confess to it. These sacred rites are proven to be fouler than the abominations performed on stage. Yet they are excused and justified because their interpretations show that they symbolize nature. Why, then, are the stories of the poets not excused and justified in the same way? Many have interpreted those stories similarly. Some have even interpreted what they call the most monstrous and horrifying story, that Saturn devoured his own children. They say it means that the passage of time, represented by Saturn’s name, consumes whatever it brings forth. Or, as Varro himself thinks, Saturn represents seeds that fall back into the earth from which they grow. One person interprets it one way, another in another. The same is true of all the rest of this theology.

And, nevertheless, it is called the fabulous theology, and is censured, cast off, rejected, together with all such interpretations belonging to it. And not only by the natural theology, which is that of the philosophers, but also by this civil theology, concerning which we are speaking, which is asserted to pertain to cities and peoples, it is judged worthy of repudiation, because it has invented unworthy things concerning the gods. Of which, I wot, this is the secret: that those most acute and learned men, by whom those things were written, understood that both theologies ought to be rejected,—to wit, both that fabulous and this civil one,—but the former they dared to reject, the latter they dared not; the former they set forth to be censured, the latter they showed to be very like it; not that it might be chosen to be held in preference to the other, but that it might be understood to be worthy of being rejected together with it. And thus, without danger to those who feared to censure the civil theology, both of them being brought into contempt, that theology which they call natural might find a place in better disposed minds; for the civil and the fabulous are both fabulous and both civil. He who shall wisely inspect the vanities and obscenities of both will find that they are both fabulous; and he who shall direct his attention to the scenic plays pertaining to the fabulous theology in the festivals of the civil gods, and in the divine rites of the cities, will find they are both civil. How, then, can the power of giving eternal life be attributed to any of those gods whose own images and sacred rites convict them of being most like to the fabulous gods, which are most openly reprobated, in forms, ages, sex, characteristics, marriages, generations, rites; in all which things they are understood either to have been men, and to have had their sacred rites and solemnities instituted in their honour according to the life or death of each of them, the demons suggesting and confirming this error, or certainly most foul spirits, who, taking advantage of some occasion or other, have stolen into the minds of men to deceive them?

Nevertheless, this is called fabulous theology. It is criticized, cast aside, and rejected, along with all such interpretations of it. It is rejected not only by natural theology, the theology of the philosophers. It is also rejected by the civil theology we are discussing, which is said to belong to cities and peoples. Civil theology judges it worthy of rejection because it has invented unworthy stories about the gods. I believe this is the secret behind it. The very sharp and learned men who wrote these things understood that both theologies should be rejected, the fabulous and the civil. But they dared to reject the first, not the second. They presented the first for criticism and showed that the second was very like it. Their purpose was not to make people prefer the second, but to show that it deserved rejection too. In this way, both theologies could be brought into contempt without endangering those who feared to criticize civil theology. Then natural theology, as they call it, might find a place in more receptive minds. For both civil and fabulous theology are fabulous, and both are civil. Anyone who examines their vanities and obscenities wisely will find that both are fabulous. Anyone who considers the plays of fabulous theology will find that both are civil. For these plays are performed at festivals of the civil gods and in the sacred rites of cities. How, then, can any of these gods be given the power to grant eternal life? Their own images and sacred rites show how much they resemble the fabulous gods, who are so openly condemned. They resemble them in form, age, sex, character, marriage, offspring, and rites. All these things suggest that they were either human beings or utterly foul spirits. If they were human beings, their sacred rites and ceremonies were established in their honor according to each one’s life or death. Demons suggested and reinforced this error. If they were foul spirits, they took advantage of one occasion or another to slip into human minds and deceive them.

9. Concerning the special offices of the gods.

9. About the specific roles of the gods.

And as to those very offices of the gods, so meanly and so minutely portioned out, so that they say that they ought to be supplicated, each one according to his special function,—about which we have spoken much already, though not all that is to be said concerning it,—are they not more consistent with mimic buffoonery than divine majesty? If any one should use two nurses for his infant, one of whom should give nothing but food, the other nothing but drink, as these make use of two goddesses for this purpose, Educa and Potina, he should certainly seem to be foolish, and to do in his house a thing worthy of a mimic. They would have Liber to have been named from "liberation," because through him males at the time of copulation are liberated by the emission of the seed. They also say that Libera (the same in their opinion as Venus) exercises the same function in the case of women, because they say that they also emit seed; and they also say that on this account the same part of the male and of the female is placed in the temple, that of the male to Liber, and that of the female to Libera. To these things they add the women assigned to Liber, and the wine for exciting lust. Thus the Bacchanalia are celebrated with the utmost insanity, with respect to which Varro himself confesses that such things would not be done by the Bacchanals except their minds were highly excited. These things, however, afterwards displeased a saner senate, and it ordered them to be discontinued. Here, at length, they perhaps perceived how much power unclean spirits, when held to be gods, exercise over the minds of men. These things, certainly, were not to be done in the theatres; for there they play, not rave, although to have gods who are delighted with such plays is very like raving.

Consider the duties assigned to these gods, divided into such petty and tiny portions. People say each god should be prayed to according to its special function. We have already said much about this, though not everything that could be said. Are such duties not more suited to a comic performance than to divine majesty? Suppose someone hired two nurses for his baby, one to provide only food and the other only drink. That is how these people use two goddesses, Educa and Potina. Surely such a man would seem foolish, putting on a show in his house worthy of a comic actor. They claim that Liber was named after “liberation,” because he frees men through the emission of seed during intercourse. They say that Libera, whom they consider the same as Venus, performs the same function for women. For they claim that women also emit seed. They also say that this is why male and female sexual organs are placed in the temple. The male organ is dedicated to Liber, and the female organ to Libera. To this they add women assigned to Liber, and wine to arouse lust. The Bacchanalia are thus celebrated with the utmost madness. Varro himself admits that the Bacchanals would not do such things unless their minds were highly excited. Later, however, a saner senate found these practices offensive and ordered them stopped. Perhaps the senators finally saw how much power unclean spirits exercise over people’s minds when they are worshiped as gods. Such things certainly could not be done in theaters. There people act, they do not rave. Yet having gods who delight in such performances is very much like raving.

But what kind of distinction is this which he makes between the religious and the superstitious man, saying that the gods are feared²³⁸ by the superstitious man, but are reverenced²³⁹ as parents by the religious man, not feared as enemies; and that they are all so good that they will more readily spare those who are impious than hurt one who is innocent? And yet he tells us that three gods are assigned as guardians to a woman after she has been delivered, lest the god Silvanus come in and molest her; and that in order to signify the presence of these protectors, three men go round the house during the night, and first strike the threshold with a hatchet, next with a pestle, and the third time sweep it with a brush, in order that these symbols of agriculture having been exhibited, the god Silvanus might be hindered from entering, because neither are trees cut down or pruned without a hatchet, neither is grain ground without a pestle, nor corn heaped up without a besom. Now from these three things three gods have been named: Intercidona, from the cut²⁴⁰ made by the hatchet; Pilumnus, from the pestle; Diverra, from the besom;—by which guardian gods the woman who has been delivered is preserved against the power of the god Silvanus. Thus the guardianship of kindly-disposed gods would not avail against the malice of a mischievous god, unless they were three to one, and fought against him, as it were, with the opposing emblems of cultivation, who, being an inhabitant of the woods, is rough, horrible, and uncultivated. Is this the innocence of the gods? Is this their concord? Are these the health-giving deities of the cities, more ridiculous than the things which are laughed at in the theatres?

But what kind of distinction does he make between a religious person and a superstitious one? He says that a superstitious person fears²³⁸ the gods. A religious person, however, reveres²³⁹ them as parents rather than fearing them as enemies. He says that all the gods are so good that they would sooner spare the ungodly than harm an innocent person. Yet he tells us that three gods are assigned to guard a woman after she gives birth. They protect her from the god Silvanus, who might enter and molest her. To signify the presence of these protectors, three men go around the house at night. First, they strike the threshold with a hatchet. Next, they strike it with a pestle. Finally, they sweep it with a brush. These symbols of farming are displayed to prevent Silvanus from entering. Trees cannot be cut down or pruned without a hatchet. Grain cannot be ground without a pestle, nor can grain be heaped up without a broom. Three gods are named after these three things. Intercidona is named for the cut²⁴⁰ made by the hatchet, Pilumnus for the pestle, and Diverra for the broom. These guardian gods protect the woman who has given birth from the power of Silvanus. So the protection of kindly gods would not be enough against the malice of a troublesome god. They must outnumber him three to one and fight him, so to speak, with the opposing symbols of cultivation. For he lives in the woods and is rough, horrible, and uncultivated. Is this the innocence of the gods? Is this their harmony? Are these the gods who bring health to cities? They are more ridiculous than the things people laugh at in the theater.

When a male and a female are united, the god Jugatinus presides. Well, let this be borne with. But the married woman must be brought home: the god Domiducus also is invoked. That she may be in the house, the god Domitius is introduced. That she may remain with her husband, the goddess Manturnæ is used. What more is required? Let human modesty be spared. Let the lust of flesh and blood go on with the rest, the secret of shame being respected. Why is the bedchamber filled with a crowd of deities, when even the groomsmen²⁴¹ have departed? And, moreover, it is so filled, not that in consideration of their presence more regard may be paid to chastity, but that by their help the woman, naturally of the weaker sex, and trembling with the novelty of her situation, may the more readily yield her virginity. For there are the goddess Virginiensis, and the god-father Subigus, and the goddess-mother Prema, and the goddess Pertunda, and Venus, and Priapus.²⁴² What is this? If it was absolutely necessary that a man, labouring at this work, should be helped by the gods, might not some one god or goddess have been sufficient? Was Venus not sufficient alone, who is even said to be named from this, that without her power a woman does not cease to be a virgin? If there is any shame in men, which is not in the deities, is it not the case that, when the married couple believe that so many gods of either sex are present, and busy at this work, they are so much affected with shame, that the man is less moved, and the woman more reluctant? And certainly, if the goddess Virginiensis is present to loose the virgin's zone, if the god Subigus is present that the virgin may be got under the man, if the goddess Prema is present that, having been got under him, she may be kept down, and may not move herself, what has the goddess Pertunda to do there? Let her blush; let her go forth. Let the husband himself do something. It is disgraceful that any one but himself should do that from which she gets her name. But perhaps she is tolerated because she is said to be a goddess, and not a god. For if she were believed to be a male, and were called Pertundus, the husband would demand more help against him for the chastity of his wife than the newly-delivered woman against Silvanus. But why am I saying this, when Priapus, too, is there, a male to excess, upon whose immense and most unsightly member the newly-married bride is commanded to sit, according to the most honourable and most religious custom of matrons?

When a man and a woman are united, the god Jugatinus presides. Well, let us put up with that. But the bride must be brought home, so the god Domiducus is also called upon. To bring her into the house, the god Domitius is introduced. To keep her with her husband, the goddess Manturnæ is called upon. What more is needed? Let us spare human modesty. Let flesh and blood pursue their desires in private, with their shameful secret respected. Why fill the bedroom with a crowd of gods when even the groomsmen²⁴¹ have left? They are not there to make the couple more mindful of chastity in their presence. They are there to help the woman surrender her virginity more readily. She is naturally the weaker sex and trembles at the unfamiliar situation. There are the goddess Virginiensis, the father god Subigus, the mother goddess Prema, the goddess Pertunda, Venus, and Priapus.²⁴² What is this? If a man absolutely needed divine help for this task, would one god or goddess not have been enough? Was Venus alone not enough? She is even said to take her name from the belief that no woman ceases to be a virgin without her power. If people have any shame, which these gods do not, would they not be embarrassed? The couple believe that so many gods and goddesses are present and busy at this task. Would the man not feel less aroused and the woman more reluctant? If Virginiensis is there to loosen the virgin’s belt, and Subigus to get her under the man, what then? If Prema is there to hold her down once she is under him and keep her from moving, why is Pertunda there? Let her blush and leave. Let the husband do something himself. It is disgraceful for anyone else to do the thing from which she gets her name. But perhaps she is tolerated because she is said to be a goddess, not a god. If she were believed to be male and called Pertundus, the husband would demand more help against him to protect his wife’s chastity than a woman who has just given birth would demand against Silvanus. But why do I say this when Priapus is there too, a male to excess? According to the most honorable and religious custom of married women, the new bride is commanded to sit on his enormous and most ugly member.

Let them go on, and let them attempt with all the subtlety they can to distinguish the civil theology from the fabulous, the cities from the theatres, the temples from the stages, the sacred things of the priests from the songs of the poets, as honourable things from base things, truthful things from fallacious, grave from light, serious from ludicrous, desirable things from things to be rejected, we understand what they do. They are aware that that theatrical and fabulous theology hangs by the civil, and is reflected back upon it from the songs of the poets as from a mirror; and thus, that theology having been exposed to view which they do not dare to condemn, they more freely assail and censure that picture of it, in order that those who perceive what they mean may detest this very face itself of which that is the picture,—which, however, the gods themselves, as though seeing themselves in the same mirror, love so much, that it is better seen in both of them who and what they are. Whence, also, they have compelled their worshippers, with terrible commands, to dedicate to them the uncleanness of the fabulous theology, to put them among their solemnities, and reckon them among divine things; and thus they have both shown themselves more manifestly to be most impure spirits, and have made that rejected and reprobated theatrical theology a member and a part of this, as it were, chosen and approved theology of the city, so that, though the whole is disgraceful and false, and contains in it fictitious gods, one part of it is in the literature of the priests, the other in the songs of the poets. Whether it may have other parts is another question. At present, I think, I have sufficiently shown, on account of the division of Varro, that the theology of the city and that of the theatre belong to one civil theology. Wherefore, because they are both equally disgraceful, absurd, shameful, false, far be it from religious men to hope for eternal life from either the one or the other.

Let them go on trying, with all their ingenuity, to separate civic theology from the theology of myths. Let them distinguish cities from theaters, temples from stages, and the sacred rites of priests from the songs of poets. Let them treat the first as honorable and the second as base, the first as true and the second as false. Let them call the first dignified and serious, the second trivial and ridiculous. Let them say the first is desirable and the second should be rejected. We understand what they are doing. They know that this theatrical and mythical theology depends on civic theology. They know it reflects civic theology back through the poets’ songs, as in a mirror. They do not dare condemn the theology itself, even when it is exposed to view. So they attack and criticize its image more freely. In this way, those who understand their meaning may come to detest the very face portrayed in that image. Yet the gods themselves love the image, as though they saw themselves in the same mirror. Thus both the face and its image show more clearly who and what the gods are. The gods have even compelled their worshipers, with terrifying commands, to dedicate the filth of mythical theology to them. They have ordered them to include it in their solemn festivals and count it among sacred things. In this way, the gods have shown themselves even more clearly to be utterly impure spirits. They have also made the rejected and condemned theology of the theater part of the city’s supposedly chosen and approved theology. The whole is disgraceful and false, and its gods are imaginary. One part is found in the writings of priests, the other in the songs of poets. Whether it has other parts is another question. For now, I think I have shown sufficiently, in response to Varro’s division, that the theology of the city and that of the theater belong to one civic theology. Both are equally disgraceful, absurd, shameful, and false. Far be it from religious people to hope for eternal life from either of them.

In fine, even Varro himself, in his account and enumeration of the gods, starts from the moment of a man's conception. He commences the series of those gods who take charge of man with Janus, carries it on to the death of the man decrepit with age, and terminates it with the goddess Nænia, who is sung at the funerals of the aged. After that, he begins to give an account of the other gods, whose province is not man himself, but man's belongings, as food, clothing, and all that is necessary for this life; and, in the case of all these, he explains what is the special office of each, and for what each ought to be supplicated. But with all this scrupulous and comprehensive diligence, he has neither proved the existence, nor so much as mentioned the name, of any god from whom eternal life is to be sought,—the one object for which we are Christians. Who, then, is so stupid as not to perceive that this man, by setting forth and opening up so diligently the civil theology, and by exhibiting its likeness to that fabulous, shameful, and disgraceful theology, and also by teaching that that fabulous sort is also a part of this other, was labouring to obtain a place in the minds of men for none but that natural theology which he says pertains to philosophers, with such subtlety that he censures the fabulous, and, not daring openly to censure the civil, shows its censurable character by simply exhibiting it; and thus, both being reprobated by the judgment of men of right understanding, the natural alone remains to be chosen? But concerning this in its own place, by the help of the true God, we have to discuss more diligently.

Finally, even Varro begins his account and list of the gods at the moment of a man’s conception. He starts the series of gods who care for a person with Janus. He continues through the person’s death in the weakness of old age. He ends with the goddess Nænia, who is sung at the funerals of the aged. He then describes the other gods. Their concern is not the person himself, but his belongings, such as food, clothing, and everything necessary for this life. For each of these gods, he explains its particular duty and what people should ask it for. Yet despite all this careful and thorough work, he has not proved that any god can grant eternal life. He has not even mentioned the name of such a god. Yet eternal life is the one thing for which we are Christians. Who, then, is so foolish as not to see what Varro was trying to do? He carefully set out and explained civil theology. He showed its resemblance to that mythical, shameful, and disgraceful theology. He also taught that mythical theology is part of civil theology. In doing so, he was trying to make room in people’s minds for natural theology alone. He says that natural theology belongs to the philosophers. His method was subtle. He criticized mythical theology, but did not dare to criticize civil theology openly. Instead, he showed what was blameworthy in it simply by setting it out. Thus, when people of sound understanding reject both, natural theology alone remains to be chosen. But we must discuss this more carefully in its proper place, with the help of the true God.

10. Concerning the liberty of Seneca, who more vehemently censured the civil theology than Varro did the fabulous.

10. On Seneca's freedom to criticize civil theology more strongly than Varro criticized mythical theology.

That liberty, in truth, which this man wanted, so that he did not dare to censure that theology of the city, which is very similar to the theatrical, so openly as he did the theatrical itself, was, though not fully, yet in part possessed by Annæus Seneca, whom we have some evidence to show to have flourished in the times of our apostles. It was in part possessed by him, I say, for he possessed it in writing, but not in living. For in that book which he wrote against superstition,²⁴³ he more copiously and vehemently censured that civil and urban theology than Varro the theatrical and fabulous. For, when speaking concerning images, he says, "They dedicate images of the sacred and inviolable immortals in most worthless and motionless matter. They give them the appearance of man, beasts, and fishes, and some make them of mixed sex, and heterogeneous bodies. They call them deities, when they are such that if they should get breath and should suddenly meet them, they would be held to be monsters." Then, a while afterwards, when extolling the natural theology, he had expounded the sentiments of certain philosophers, he opposes to himself a question, and says, "Here some one says, Shall I believe that the heavens and the earth are gods, and that some are above the moon and some below it? Shall I bring forward either Plato or the peripatetic Strato, one of whom made God to be without a body, the other without a mind?" In answer to which he says, "And, really, what truer do the dreams of Titus Tatius, or Romulus, or Tullus Hostilius appear to thee? Tatius declared the divinity of the goddess Cloacina; Romulus that of Picus and Tiberinus; Tullus Hostilius that of Pavor and Pallor, the most disagreeable affections of men, the one of which is the agitation of the mind under fright, the other that of the body, not a disease, indeed, but a change of colour." Wilt thou rather believe that these are deities, and receive them into heaven? But with what freedom he has written concerning the rites themselves, cruel and shameful! "One," he says, "castrates himself, another cuts his arms. Where will they find room for the fear of these gods when angry, who use such means of gaining their favour when propitious? But gods who wish to be worshipped in this fashion should be worshipped in none. So great is the frenzy of the mind when perturbed and driven from its seat, that the gods are propitiated by men in a manner in which not even men of the greatest ferocity and fable-renowned cruelty vent their rage. Tyrants have lacerated the limbs of some; they never ordered any one to lacerate his own. For the gratification of royal lust, some have been castrated; but no one ever, by the command of his lord, laid violent hands on himself to emasculate himself. They kill themselves in the temples. They supplicate with their wounds and with their blood. If any one has time to see the things they do and the things they suffer, he will find so many things unseemly for men of respectability, so unworthy of freemen, so unlike the doings of sane men, that no one would doubt that they are mad, had they been mad with the minority; but now the multitude of the insane is the defence of their sanity."

Varro lacked the freedom to criticize the city’s theology as openly as he criticized theatrical theology, though the two were very similar. Annaeus Seneca possessed some of that freedom, though not all of it. We have some evidence that he lived in the time of our apostles. I say he possessed it only in part because he showed it in his writing, but not in his life. In his book against superstition,²⁴³ he criticized the theology of the city more extensively and fiercely than Varro criticized the theatrical and mythical theology. Speaking of images, he says, "They make images of the sacred and inviolable immortals from utterly worthless, lifeless material. They give them the shapes of humans, beasts, and fish. Some make them with mixed sexes and bodies made of different creatures. They call them gods. Yet if these images came to life and suddenly met them, they would regard them as monsters." A little later, while praising natural theology, Seneca explains the views of certain philosophers. He then raises an objection: "Here someone says, Should I believe that heaven and earth are gods? Should I believe that some gods are above the moon and others below it? Should I bring forward Plato or the Peripatetic philosopher Strato? One said that God has no body, the other that he has no mind." Seneca replies, "But do the dreams of Titus Tatius, Romulus, or Tullus Hostilius seem any truer to you? Tatius declared the goddess Cloacina divine. Romulus did the same for Picus and Tiberinus. Tullus Hostilius did so for Pavor and Pallor. These are the most unpleasant human afflictions. One is the mind’s agitation under fear, the other is a change of color in the body, not a disease." Would you rather believe that these are gods and welcome them into heaven? How freely Seneca writes about the rites themselves, cruel and shameful as they are! "One man," he says, "castrates himself, and another cuts his arms. How can they have room to fear these gods when angry? For they do such things to gain their favor when they are well disposed. Gods who want to be worshipped in this way should not be worshipped at all. The mind becomes so frenzied when disturbed and driven from its place that people try to appease the gods in this way. Not even the most savage men, whose cruelty is famed in stories, vent their rage this way. Tyrants have torn the limbs of some people, but they have never ordered anyone to tear his own limbs. Some have been castrated to satisfy a ruler’s lust. But no one has ever forcibly castrated himself on his master’s orders. They kill themselves in the temples. They plead with their wounds and their blood. If anyone has time to observe what they do and suffer, he will find many things unfit for respectable people. He will find them unworthy of free people and unlike anything sane people do. No one would doubt their madness if only a minority were mad. But now the number of mad people is used to defend their sanity."

He next relates those things which are wont to be done in the Capitol, and with the utmost intrepidity insists that they are such things as one could only believe to be done by men making sport, or by madmen. For, having spoken with derision of this, that in the Egyptian sacred rites Osiris, being lost, is lamented for, but straightway, when found, is the occasion of great joy by his reappearance, because both the losing and the finding of him are feigned; and yet that grief and that joy which are elicited thereby from those who have lost nothing and found nothing are real;—having, I say, so spoken of this, he says, "Still there is a fixed time for this frenzy. It is tolerable to go mad once in the year. Go into the Capitol. One is suggesting divine commands²⁴⁴ to a god; another is telling the hours to Jupiter; one is a lictor; another is an anointer, who with the mere movement of his arms imitates one anointing. There are women who arrange the hair of Juno and Minerva, standing far away not only from her image, but even from her temple. These move their fingers in the manner of hair-dressers. There are some women who hold a mirror. There are some who are calling the gods to assist them in court. There are some who are holding up documents to them, and are explaining to them their cases. A learned and distinguished comedian, now old and decrepit, was daily playing the mimic in the Capitol, as though the gods would gladly be spectators of that which men had ceased to care about. Every kind of artificers working for the immortal gods is dwelling there in idleness." And a little after he says, "Nevertheless these, though they give themselves up to the gods for purposes superfluous enough, do not do so for any abominable or infamous purpose. There sit certain women in the Capitol who think they are beloved by Jupiter; nor are they frightened even by the look of the, if you will believe the poets, most wrathful Juno."

He next describes what people usually do in the Capitol. He boldly insists that their actions are so strange that one could only believe they were joking or mad. First, he mocks an Egyptian sacred rite. When Osiris is lost, people mourn him. As soon as he is found, they rejoice at his return. Both his disappearance and his discovery are staged. Yet the grief and joy they stir up are real, though no one has lost or found anything. After saying this, he writes: "Still, there is a set time for this madness. It is tolerable to go mad once a year. Go into the Capitol. One person suggests divine commands²⁴⁴ to a god. Another tells Jupiter the time. One acts as a lictor. Another acts as an anointer, moving his arms as though applying oil. Some women arrange the hair of Juno and Minerva. They stand far away, not only from her image, but even from her temple. They move their fingers as hairdressers do. Some women hold a mirror. Some call on the gods to help them in court. Others hold up documents to the gods and explain their cases. A learned and distinguished comedian, now old and frail, performed mime daily in the Capitol. He acted as though the gods would gladly watch what people no longer cared to see. Craftsmen of every kind live there in idleness, working for the immortal gods." A little later he says, "Nevertheless, these people devote themselves to the gods for purposes that are quite unnecessary. But they do not do so for any disgusting or shameful purpose. Certain women sit in the Capitol and believe that Jupiter loves them. They are not even frightened by the look of Juno, who, if you believe the poets, is extremely quick to anger."

This liberty Varro did not enjoy. It was only the poetical theology he seemed to censure. The civil, which this man cuts to pieces, he was not bold enough to impugn. But if we attend to the truth, the temples where these things are performed are far worse than the theatres where they are represented. Whence, with respect to these sacred rites of the civil theology, Seneca preferred, as the best course to be followed by a wise man, to feign respect for them in act, but to have no real regard for them at heart. "All which things," he says, "a wise man will observe as being commanded by the laws, but not as being pleasing to the gods." And a little after he says, "And what of this, that we unite the gods in marriage, and that not even naturally, for we join brothers and sisters? We marry Bellona to Mars, Venus to Vulcan, Salacia to Neptune. Some of them we leave unmarried, as though there were no match for them, which is surely needless, especially when there are certain unmarried goddesses, as Populonia, or Fulgora, or the goddess Rumina, for whom I am not astonished that suitors have been awanting. All this ignoble crowd of gods, which the superstition of ages has amassed, we ought," he says, "to adore in such a way as to remember all the while that its worship belongs rather to custom than to reality." Wherefore, neither those laws nor customs instituted in the civil theology that which was pleasing to the gods, or which pertained to reality. But this man, whom philosophy had made, as it were, free, nevertheless, because he was an illustrious senator of the Roman people, worshipped what he censured, did what he condemned, adored what he reproached, because, forsooth, philosophy had taught him something great,—namely, not to be superstitious in the world, but, on account of the laws of cities and the customs of men, to be an actor, not on the stage, but in the temples,—conduct the more to be condemned, that those things which he was deceitfully acting he so acted that the people thought he was acting sincerely. But a stage-actor would rather delight people by acting plays than take them in by false pretences.

Varro did not enjoy this freedom. He seemed to criticize only the theology of the poets. He was not bold enough to challenge the theology of the state, which Seneca tears to pieces. But if we consider the truth, the temples where these things are done are far worse than the theaters where they are acted out. Regarding these sacred rites of the state religion, Seneca thought the best course for a wise man was to pretend to respect them in his actions, while giving them no real regard in his heart. “A wise man will observe all these things,” he says, “because the laws command them, not because they please the gods.” A little later he says, “And what about the fact that we join gods in marriage, and not even naturally? For we join brothers and sisters. We marry Bellona to Mars, Venus to Vulcan, and Salacia to Neptune. We leave some unmarried, as though there were no match for them. This is surely unnecessary, especially when there are unmarried goddesses such as Populonia, Fulgora, and the goddess Rumina. I am not surprised that Rumina has had no suitors. All this shameful crowd of gods, gathered by the superstition of ages, should be worshiped in such a way that we always remember their worship belongs to custom rather than reality.” Therefore, neither those laws nor those customs established in the state religion anything that pleased the gods or belonged to reality. Yet this man, whom philosophy had, so to speak, set free, was also a distinguished Roman senator. So he worshiped what he criticized, did what he condemned, and adored what he denounced. Philosophy had supposedly taught him something great. He was not to be superstitious in the world, but, because of the laws of cities and the customs of men, he was to be an actor, not on the stage, but in the temples. His conduct was all the more worthy of condemnation because he acted so deceptively that the people thought he was sincere. A stage actor, by contrast, would rather delight people with plays than deceive them with false appearances.

11. What Seneca thought concerning the Jews.

11. What Seneca thought about the Jews.

Seneca, among the other superstitions of civil theology, also found fault with the sacred things of the Jews, and especially the sabbaths, affirming that they act uselessly in keeping those seventh days, whereby they lose through idleness about the seventh part of their life, and also many things which demand immediate attention are damaged. The Christians, however, who were already most hostile to the Jews, he did not dare to mention, either for praise or blame, lest, if he praised them, he should do so against the ancient custom of his country, or, perhaps, if he should blame them, he should do so against his own will.

Seneca criticized Jewish sacred practices along with the other superstitions of civil theology. He objected especially to the Sabbaths. He claimed that observing every seventh day was useless. He said the Jews lost about a seventh of their lives through idleness. He also said that many matters needing immediate attention suffered. However, he did not dare mention the Christians, who were already most hostile to the Jews. He neither praised nor blamed them. Praising them would have gone against his country’s ancient customs. Perhaps blaming them would have gone against his own wishes.

When he was speaking concerning those Jews, he said, "When, meanwhile, the customs of that most accursed nation have gained such strength that they have been now received in all lands, the conquered have given laws to the conquerors." By these words he expresses his astonishment; and, not knowing what the providence of God was leading him to say, subjoins in plain words an opinion by which he showed what he thought about the meaning of those sacred institutions: "For," he says, "those, however, know the cause of their rites, whilst the greater part of the people know not why they perform theirs." But concerning the solemnities of the Jews, either why or how far they were instituted by divine authority, and afterwards, in due time, by the same authority taken away from the people of God, to whom the mystery of eternal life was revealed, we have both spoken elsewhere, especially when we were treating against the Manichæans, and also intend to speak in this work in a more suitable place.

Speaking about the Jews, he said, "Meanwhile, the customs of that most accursed nation have grown so powerful that they are now accepted in all lands. The conquered have given laws to their conquerors." These words express his astonishment. Unaware of what God's providence was leading him to say, he added a plain statement of what he thought about the meaning of those sacred practices: "For they, at least, know the reason for their rites, while most people do not know why they perform theirs." We have discussed the Jewish ceremonies elsewhere, especially in our writings against the Manichæans. We explained why they were established by divine authority and how far that authority extended. We also explained how, in due time, the same authority removed them from God's people, to whom the mystery of eternal life was revealed. We intend to discuss these matters again in this work, in a more suitable place.

Now, since there are three theologies, which the Greeks call respectively mythical, physical, and political, and which may be called in Latin fabulous, natural, and civil; and since neither from the fabulous, which even the worshippers of many and false gods have themselves most freely censured, nor from the civil, of which that is convicted of being a part, or even worse than it, can eternal life be hoped for from any of these theologies,—if any one thinks that what has been said in this book is not enough for him, let him also add to it the many and various dissertations concerning God as the giver of felicity, contained in the former books, especially the fourth one.

There are three kinds of theology. The Greeks call them mythical, physical, and political. In Latin, they may be called fabulous, natural, and civil. Even the worshippers of many false gods have freely criticized fabulous theology. Civil theology has been shown to include fabulous theology, or to be even worse than it. Neither of these theologies can offer hope of eternal life. If anyone thinks that what this book has said is not enough, let him also consider the many different discussions in the earlier books, especially the fourth, about God as the giver of happiness.

For to what but to felicity should men consecrate themselves, were felicity a goddess? However, as it is not a goddess, but a gift of God, to what God but the giver of happiness ought we to consecrate ourselves, who piously love eternal life, in which there is true and full felicity? But I think, from what has been said, no one ought to doubt that none of those gods is the giver of happiness, who are worshipped with such shame, and who, if they are not so worshipped, are more shamefully enraged, and thus confess that they are most foul spirits. Moreover, how can he give eternal life who cannot give happiness? For we mean by eternal life that life where there is endless happiness. For if the soul live in eternal punishments, by which also those unclean spirits shall be tormented, that is rather eternal death than eternal life. For there is no greater or worse death than when death never dies. But because the soul from its very nature, being created immortal, cannot be without some kind of life, its utmost death is alienation from the life of God in an eternity of punishment. So, then, He only who gives true happiness gives eternal life, that is, an endlessly happy life. And since those gods whom this civil theology worships have been proved to be unable to give this happiness, they ought not to be worshipped on account of those temporal and terrestrial things, as we showed in the five former books, much less on account of eternal life, which is to be after death, as we have sought to show in this one book especially, whilst the other books also lend it their co-operation. But since the strength of inveterate habit has its roots very deep, if any one thinks that I have not disputed sufficiently to show that this civil theology ought to be rejected and shunned, let him attend to another book which, with God's help, is to be joined to this one.

If happiness were a goddess, what else should people devote themselves to? But happiness is not a goddess. It is a gift from God. We who devoutly love eternal life should devote ourselves to the God who gives happiness. For true and complete happiness is found in eternal life. From what has been said, I think no one should doubt that none of those gods gives happiness. They are worshipped through such shameful acts. If they are not worshipped in this way, they become even more shamefully enraged. In this way, they reveal themselves to be utterly foul spirits. Besides, how can anyone give eternal life if he cannot give happiness? By eternal life, we mean a life of endless happiness. If the soul lives in eternal punishment, that is eternal death rather than eternal life. Those unclean spirits, too, will suffer such punishment. There is no greater or worse death than one in which death never dies. The soul, however, was created immortal. By its very nature, it cannot be without some kind of life. Its worst death, then, is separation from the life of God in eternal punishment. So only he who gives true happiness gives eternal life, that is, an endlessly happy life. The gods worshipped by the civil theology have been shown unable to give this happiness. As we showed in the previous five books, they should not be worshipped for temporary, earthly things. Still less should they be worshipped for the eternal life that follows death. We have sought to show this especially in the present book, though the other books also support the argument. But long-standing habits have very deep roots. Anyone who thinks I have not argued sufficiently that this civil theology should be rejected and avoided should read another book. With God’s help, it will follow this one.