THE DIVINE INSTITUTES. BOOK V--OF JUSTICE (CHAP. I TO CHAP. XII)
THE DIVINE INSTITUTES
BOOK V.
OF JUSTICE.
CHAP. I.--OF THE NON-CONDEMNATION OF ACCUSED PERSONS WITHOUT A HEARING OF
THEIR CAUSE; FROM WHAT CAUSE PHILOSOPHERS DESPISED THE SACRED WRITINGS; OF THE
FIRST ADVOCATES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
I ENTERTAIN no doubt, O mighty Emperor Constantine,(1)--since they are
impatient through excessive superstition,--that if any one of those who are
foolishly religious should take in hand this work of ours, in which that matchless
Creator of all things and Ruler of this boundless world is asserted, he would
even assail it with abusive language, and perhaps, having scarcely read the
beginning, would dash it to the ground, cast it from him, curse it, and think himself
contaminated and bound by inexpiable guilt if he should patiently read. or
hear these things. We demand, however, from this man, if it is possible, by the
right of human nature,(2) that he should not condemn before that he knows the
whole matter. For if the right of defending themselves is given to sacrilegious
persons, and to traitors and sorcerers, and if it is lawful for no one to be
condemned beforehand, his cause being as yet untried, we do not appear to ask
unjustly, that if there shall be any one who shall have fallen upon this subject, if
he shall read it, he read it throughout if he shall hear it, that he put off
the forming of an opinion until the end. But I know the obstinacy of men; we
shall never succeed in obtaining this. For they fear lest they should be overcome
by us, and be compelled at length to yield, truth itself crying out. They
interrupt, therefore, and make hindrances, that they may not hear; and close their
eyes, that they may not see the light which we present to them. Wherefore they
themselves plainly show their distrust in their own abandoned system, since they
neither venture to investigate, nor to engage with as, because they know that
they are easily overpowered.And therefore, discussion being taken away,
"Wisdom is driven from among them, they have recourse to violence"
as Ennius says; and because they eagerly endeavour to condemn as guilty those
whom they plainly know to be innocent, they are unwilling to be agreed
respecting innocence itself; as though, in truth, it were a greater injustice to have
condemned innocence, when proved to be such, than unheard. But, as I said, they
are afraid lest, if they should hear, they should be unable to condemn.
And therefore they torture, put to death, and banish the worshippers of
the Most High God, that is, the righteous; nor are they, who so vehemently hate,
themselves able to assign the causes of their hatred. Because they are
themselves in error, they are angry with those who follow the path of truth; and when
they are able to correct themselves, they greatly increase(3) their errors by
cruel deeds, they are stained with the blood of the innocent, and they tear away
with violence souls dedicated to God from the lacerated bodies. Such are the
men with whom we now endeavour to engage and to dispute: these are the men whom
we would lead away from a foolish persuasion to the truth, men who would more
readily drink blood than imbibe the words of the righteous. What then? Will our
labour be in vain? By no means. For if we shall not be able to deliver these
from death, to which they are hastening with the greatest speed; if we cannot
recall them from that devious path to life and light, since they themselves oppose
their own safety; yet we shall strengthen those who belong to us, whose opinion
is not settled, and founded and fixed with solid roots. For many of them
waver, and especially those who have any acquaintance with literature. For in this
respect philosophers, and orators, and poets are pernicious, because they are
easily able to ensnare unwary souls by the sweetness of their discourse, and of
their poems flowing with delightful modulation. These are sweets(1) which
conceal poison. And on this account I wished to connect wisdom with religion, that
that vain system may not at all injure the studious; so that now the knowledge of
literature may not only be of no injury to religion and righteousness, but may
even be of the greatest profit, if he who has learned it should be more
instructed in virtues and wiser in truth.
Moreover, even though it should be profitable to no other, it certainly
will be so to us: the conscience will delight itself, and the mind will rejoice
that it is engaged in the light of truth, which is the food of the soul, being
overspread with an incredible kind of pleasantness.But we must not despair.
Perchance
"We sing not to the deaf."(2)
For neither are affairs in so bad a condition that there are no sound minds to
which the truth may be pleasing, and which may both see and follow the right
course when it is pointed out to them. Only let the cup be anointed(3) with the
heavenly honey of wisdom, that the bitter remedies may be drunk by them
unawares, without any annoyance, whilst the first sweetness of taste by its
allurenment conceals, under the cover(4) of pleasantness, the bitterness of the harsh
flavour. For this is especially the cause why, with the wise and the learned, and
the princes of this world, the sacred Scriptures are without credit, because
the prophets spoke in common and simple language, as though they spoke to the
people. And therefore they are despised by those who are willing to hear or read
nothing except that which is polished and eloquent; nor is anything able to
remain fixed in their minds, except that which charms their ears by a more
soothing sound. But those things which appear humble(5) are considered anile, foolish,
and common. So entirely do they regard nothing as true, except that which is
pleasant to the ear; nothing as credible, except that which can excite(6)
pleasure: no one estimates(7) a subject by its truth, but by its embellishment.
Therefore they do not believe the sacred writings, because they are without any
pretence;(8) but they do not even believe those who explain them, because they also
are either altogether ignorant, or at any rate possessed of little learning.
For it very rarely happens that they are wholly eloquent; and the cause of this
is evident. For eloquence is subservient to the world, it desires to display
itself to the people, and to please in things which are evil; since it often
endeavours to overpower the truth, that it may show its power; it seeks wealth,
desires honours; in short, it demands the highest degree of dignity. Therefore it
despises these subjects as low; it avoids secret things as contrary to itself,
inasmuch as it rejoices in publicity, and longs for the multitude and
celebrity. Hence it comes to pass that wisdom and truth need suitable heralds. And if by
chance any of the learned have betaken themselves to it, they have not been
sufficient for its defence.
Of those who are known to me, Minucius Felix was of no ignoble rank among
pleaders. His book, which bears the title of Octavius, declares how suitable a
maintainer of the truth he might have been, if he had given himself altogether
to that pursuit.(9) Septimius Tertullianus also was skilled in literature of
every kind; but in eloquence he had little readiness, and was not sufficiently
polished, and very obscure. Not even therefore did he find sufficient renown.
Cyprianus, therefore, was above all others(10) distinguished and renowned, since
he had sought great glory to himself from the profession of the art of oratory,
and he wrote very many things worthy of admiration in their particular class.
For he was of a turn of mind which was ready, copious, agreeable, and (that
which is the greatest excellence of style) plain and open; so that you cannot
determine whether he was more embellished in speech, or more ready in explanation,
or more powerful in persuasion. And yet he is unable to please those who are
ignorant of the mystery except by his words; inasmuch as the things which he spoke
are mystical, and prepared with this object, that they may be heard by the
faithful only: in short, he is accustomed to be derided by the learned men of this
age, to whom his writings have happened to be known. I have heard of a certain
man who was skilful indeed, who by the change of a single letter called him
Coprianus,(11) as though he were one who had applied to old women's fables a mind
which was elegant and fitted for better things. But if this happened to him
whose eloquence is not unpleasant, what then must we suppose happens to those
whose discourse is meagre and displeasing, who could have had neither the power of
persuasion, nor subtlety in arguing, nor any severity at all for refuting?
CHAP. II.--TO WHAT AN EXTENT THE CHRISTIAN TRUTH HAS BEEN ASSAILED BY RASH MEN.
Therefore, because there have been wanting among us suitable and skilful
teachers, who might vigorously and sharply refute public errors, and who might
defend the whole cause of truth with elegance and copiousness, this very want
incited some to venture to write against the truth, which was unknown to them. I
pass by those who in former times in vain assailed it. When I was teaching
rhetorical learning in Bithynia, having been called thither, and it had happened
that at the same time the temple of God was overthrown, there were living at the
same place two men who insulted the truth as it lay prostrate and overthrown,
I know not whether with greater arrogance or harshness: the one of whom
professed himself the high priest of philosophy;(1) but he was so addicted to vice,
that, though a teacher of abstinence, he was not less inflamed with avarice than
with lusts; so extravagant in his manner of living, that though in his school
he was the maintainer of virtue, the praiser of parsimony and poverty, be dined
less sumptuously in a palace than at his own house. Nevertheless he
sheltered(2) his vices by his hair(3) and his cloak, and (that which is the greatest
screen(4)) by his riches; and that he might increase these, he used to penetrate
with wonderful effort s to the friendships of the judges; and he suddenly
attached them to himself by the authority of a fictitious name, not only that he
might make a traffic of their decisions, but also that he might by this influence
hinder his neighbours, whom he was driving froth their homes and lands, from
the recovery of their property. This man, in truth, who overthrew his own
arguments by his character, or censured his own character by his arguments, a weighty
censor and most keen accuser against himself, at the very same time in which a
righteous peopIe were impiously assailed, vomited forth three books against
the Christian religion and name; professing, above all things, that it was the
office of a philosopher to remedy the errors of men, and to recall them to the
true way, that is, to the worship of the gods, by whose power and majesty, as
he said, the world is governed; and not to permit that inexperienced men should
be enticed by the frauds of any, lest their simplicity should be a prey and
sustenance to crafty men.
Therefore he said that he had undertaken this office, worthy of
philosophy, that he might hold out to those who do not see the light of wisdom, not only
that they may return to a healthy state of mind, having undertaken the worship
of the gods, but also that, having laid aside their pertinacious obstinacy,
they may avoid tortures of the body, nor wish in vain to endure cruel lacerations
of their limbs. But that it might be evident on what account he had laboriously
worked out that task, he broke out profusely into praises of the princes,
whose piety and foresight, as he himself indeed said, had been distinguished both
in other matters, and especially in defending the religious rites of the gods;
that he had, in short, consulted the interests of men, in order that, impious
and foolish superstition having been restrained, all men might have leisure for
lawful sacred rites, and might experience the gods propitious to them. But when
he wished to weaken the grounds of that religion against which he was pleading,
he appeared senseless, vain, and ridiculous; because that weighty adviser of
the advantage of others was ignorant not only what to oppose, but even what to
speak. For if any of our religion were present, although they were silent on
account of the time, nevertheless in their mind they derided him; since they saw a
man professing that he would enlighten others, when he himself was blind; that
he would recall others from error, when he himself was ignorant where to plant
his feet; that he would instruct others to the truth, of which he himself had
never seen even a spark at any time; inasmuch as he who was a professor of
wisdom, endeavoured to overthrow wisdom. All, however, censured this, that he
undertook this work at that time in particular, in which odious cruelty raged. O
philosopher, a flatterer, and a time-server! But this man was despised, as his
vanity deserved; for he did not gain the popularity which he hoped for, and the
glory which he eagerly sought for was changed into censure and blame.(6)
Another(7) wrote the same subject with more bitterness, who was then of
the number of the judges, and who was especially the adviser of enacting
persecution; and not contented with this crime, he also pursued with writings those
whom he bad persecuted. For he composed two books, not against the Christians,
test he might appear to assail them in a hostile manner but to the Christians,
that he might be thought to consult for them with humanity and kindness. And in
these writings he endeavoured so to prove the falsehood of sacred Scripture, as
though it were altogether contradictory to itself; for he expounded some
chapters which seemed to be at variance with themselves, enumerating so many and such
secret(1) things, that he sometimes appears to have been one of the same sect.
But if this was so, what Demosthenes will be able to defend from the charge of
impiety him who became the betrayer of the religion to which he had given his
assent,(2) and of the faith the name of which he had assumed,(3) and of the
mystery(4) which he had received, unless it happened by chance that the sacred
writings fell into his hands? What rashness was it, therefore, to dare to destroy
that which no one explained to him! It was well that he either learned nothing
or understood nothing. For contradiction is as far removed from the sacred
writings as he was removed from faith and truth. He chiefly, however, assailed Paul
and Peter, and the other disciples, as disseminators of deceit whom at the same
time he testified to have been unskilled and unlearned. For he says that some
of them made gain by the craft of fishermen, as though he took it ill that some
Aristophanes or Aristarchus did not devise that subject.
CHAP. III.--OF THE TRUTH OF THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE, AND THE VANITY OF ITS
ADVERSARIES; AND THAT CHRIST WAS NOT A MAGICIAN.
The desire of inventing,(5) therefore, and craftiness were absent from
these men, since they were unskilful. Or what unlearned man could invent things
adapted to one another, and coherent, when the most learned of the philosophers,
Plato and Aristotle, and Epicurus and Zeno, themselves spoke things at variance
with one another, and contrary? For this is the nature of falsehoods, that
they cannot be coherent. But their teaching, because it is true, everywhere
agrees,(6) and is altogether consistent with itself; and on this account it effects
persuasion, because it is based on a consistent plan. They did not therefore
devise that religion for the sake of gain and advantage, inasmuch as both by their
precepts and in reality they followed that course of life which is without
pleasures, and despised all things which are reckoned among good things, and since
they not only endured death for their faith, but also both knew and foretold
that they were about to die, and afterwards that all who followed their system
would suffer cruel and impious things. But he(7) affirmed that Christ Himself
was put to flight by the Jews, and having collected a band of nine hundred men,
committed robberies. Who would venture to oppose so great an authority? We must
certainly believe this, for perchance some Apollo announced it to him in his
slumbers. So many robbers have at all times perished, and do perish daily, and
you yourself have certainly condemned many: which of them after his crucifixion
was called, I will not say a God, but a man? But you perchance believed it from
the circumstance of your having consecrated the homicide Mars as a god, though
you would not have done this if the Areopagites had crucified him.
The same man, when he endeavoured to overthrow his wonderful deeds, and
did not however deny them, wished to show that Apollonius(8) performed equal or
even greater deeds. It is strange that he omitted to mention Apuleius,(9) of
whom many and wonderful things are accustomed to be related. Why therefore, O
senseless one, does no one worship Apollonius in the place of God? unless by chance
you alone do so, who are worthy forsooth of that god, with whom the true God
will punish you everlastingly. If Christ is a magician because He performed
wonderful deeds, it is plain that Apollonius, who, according to your-description.
when Domitian wished to punish him, suddenly disappeared on his trial, was more
skilful than He who was both arrested and crucified. But perhaps he wished from
this very thing to prove the arrogance of Christ, in that He made Himself God,
that the other may appear to have been more modest, who, though he performed
greater actions, as this one thinks, nevertheless did not claim that for
himself. I omit at present to compare the works themselves, because in the second and
preceding book I have spoken respecting the fraud and tricks of the magic art.
I say that there is no one who would not wish that that should especially
befall him after death which even the greatest kings desire. For why do men prepare
for themselves magnificent sepulchres? why statues and images? why by some
illustrious deeds, or even by death undergone in behalf of their countrymen, do
they endeavour to deserve the good opinions of men? Why, in short, have you
yourself wished to raise a monument of your talent, built with this detestable folly,
as if with mud, except that you hope for immortality from the remembrance of
your name? It is foolish, therefore, to imagine that Apollonius did not desire
that which he would plainly wish for if he were able to attain to it; because
there is no one who refuses immortality, and especially when you say that he was
both adored by some as a god, and that his image was set up under the name of
Hercules, the averter of evil, and is even now honoured by the Ephesians.
He could not therefore after death be believed to be a god, because it was
evident that he was both a man and a magician; and for this reason he
affected(1) divinity under the title of a name belonging to another, for in his own
name he was unable to attain it, nor did he venture to make the attempt. But he of
whom we speak(2) could both be believed to be a god, because he was not a
magician, and was believed to be such because he was so in truth. I do not say
this, he says, that Apollonius was not accounted a god, because he did not wish it,
but that it may be evident that we, who did not at once connect a belief in
his divinity with wonderful deeds, are wiser than you, who on account of slight
wonders believed that he was a god. It is not wonderful if you, who are far
removed from the wisdom of God, understand nothing at all of those things which you
have read, since the Jews, who from the beginning had frequently read the
prophets, and to whom the mystery(3) of God had been assigned, were nevertheless
ignorant of what they read. Learn, therefore, if you have any sense, that Christ
was not believed by us to be God on this account, because He did wonderful
things, but because we saw that all things were done in His case which were
announced to us by the prediction of the prophets. He performed wonderful deeds: we
might have supposed Him to be a magician, as you now suppose Him to be, and the
Jews then supposed Him, if all the prophets did not with one accord(4) proclaim
that Christ would do those very things. Therefore we believe Him to be God, not
more from His wonderful deeds and works, than from that very cross which you
as dogs lick, since that also was predicted at the same time. It was not
therefore on His own testimony (for who can be believed when he speaks concerning
himself?, but on the testimony of the prophets who long before foretold all things
which He did and suffered, that He gained a belief in His divinity, which could
have happened neither to Apollonius,(5) nor to Apuleius, nor to any of the
magicians; nor can it happen at any time. When, therefore, he had poured forth
such absurd ravings(6) of his ignorance, when he had eagerly endeavoured utterly
to destroy the truth, he dared to give to his books which were impious and the
enemies of God the title of "truth-loving." O blind breast! O mind more black
than Cimmerian darkness, as they say! He may perhaps have been a disciple of
Anaxagoras,(7) to whom snows were as black as ink. But it is the same blindness, to
give the name of falsehood to truth, and of truth to falsehood. Doubtless the
crafty man wished to conceal the wolf under the skin of a sheep,(8) that he
might ensnare the reader by a deceitful title. Let it be true; grant that you did
this from ignorance, not from malice: what truth, however, have you brought to
us, except that, being a defender of the gods, you had at last betrayed those
very gods? For, having set forth the praises of the Supreme God, whom you
confessed to be king, most mighty, the maker of all things, the fountain of honours,
the parent of all, the creator and preserver of all living creatures, you took
away the kingdom from your own Jupiter; and when you had driven him from the
supreme power, you reduced him to the rank of servants. Thus your own
conclusion(9) convicts you of folly, vanity, and error. For you affirm that the gods
exist, and yet you subject and enslave them to that God whose religion you attempt
to overturn.
CHAP.IV.--WHY THIS WORK WAS PUBLISHED, AND AGAIN OF TERTULLIAN AND CYPRIAN.
Since, therefore, they of whom I have spoken had set forth their
sacrilegious writings in my presence, and to my grief, being incited both by the
arrogant impiety of these, and by the consciousness of truth itself, and (as I think)
by God, I have undertaken this office, that with all the strength of my mind I
might refute the accusers of righteousness; not that I should write against
these, who might be crushed with a few words, but that I might once for all by one
attack overthrow all who everywhere effect, or have effected, the same work.
For I do not doubt that very many others, and in many places, and that not only
in Greek, but also in Latin writings, have raised a monument of their own
unrighteousness. And since i was not able to reply to these separately, I thought
that this cause was to be so pleaded by me that I might overthrow former writers,
together with all their writings, and cut off from future writers the whole
power of writing and of replying.(1) Only let them attend, and I will assuredly
effect that whosoever shall know these things, must either embrace that which he
before condemned, or, which is next to it, cease at length to deride it.
Although Tertullian fully pleaded the same cause in that treatise which is entitled
the Apology,(2) yet, inasmuch as it is one thing to answer accusers, which
consists in defence or denial only, and another thing to instruct, which we do, in
which the substance of the whole system must be contained, I have not shrunk
from this labour, that I might complete the subject, which Cyprian did not fully
carry out in that discourse in which he endeavours to refute Demetrianus (as he
himself says) railing at and clamouring(3) against the truth. Which subject he
did not handle as he ought to have done; for he ought to have been refuted not
by the testimonies of Scripture, which he plainly considered vain,
fictitious, and false, but by arguments and reason. For, since he was contending against
a man who was ignorant of the truth, he ought for a while to have laid aside
divine readings, and to have formed from the beginning this man as one who was
altogether ignorant,(4) and to have shown to him by degrees the beginnings of
light, that he might not be dazzled,(5) the whole of its brightness being
presented to him.(6)
For as an infant is unable, on account of the tenderness of its stomach,
to receive the nourishment of solid and strong food, but is supported by liquid
and soft milk, until, its strength being confirmed, it can feed on stronger
nourishment; so also it was befitting that this man, because he was not yet
capable of receiving divine things, should be presented with human testimonies--that
is, of philosophers and historians --in order that he might especially be
refuted by his own authorities. And since he did not do this, being carried away by
his distinguished knowledge of the sacred writings, so that he was content with
those things alone in which faith consists, I have undertaken, with the favour
of God, to do this, and at the same time to prepare the way for the imitation
of others. And if, through my exhortation, learned and eloquent men shall begin
to betake themselves to this subject, and shall choose to display their
talents and power of speaking in this field of truth, no one can doubt that false
religions will quickly disappear, and philosophy altogether fall, if all shall be
persuaded that this alone is religion and the only true wisdom. But I have
wandered from the subject further than I wished.
CHAP. V.--THERE WAS TRUE JUSTICE UNDER SATURNUS, BUT IT WAS BANISHED BY
JUPITER.
Now the promised disputation concerning justice must be given; which is
either by itself the greatest virtue, or by itself the fountain of virtue, which
not only philosophers sought, but poets also, who were much earlier, and were
esteemed as wise before the origin of the name of philosophy. These clearly
understood that this justice was absent from the affairs of men; and they feigned
that it, being offended with the vices of men, departed from the earth, and
withdrew to heaven; and that they may teach what it is to live justly (for they are
accustomed to give precepts by circumlocutions), they repeat examples of
justice from the times of Saturnus, which they call the golden times, and they
relate in what condition human life was while it delayed on the earth.(7) And this
is not to be regarded as a poetic fiction, but as the truth. For, while Saturnus
reigned, the religious worship of the gods not having yet been instituted, nor
any(8) race being as yet set apart in the belief of its divinity, God was
manifestly worshipped. And therefore there were neither dissensions, nor enmities,
nor wars.
"Not yet had rage unsheathed maddened swords,"
as Germanicus Caesar speaks in his poem translated from Aratus,(9)
"Nor had discord been known among relatives."
No, nor even among strangers: but there were no swords at all to be
unsheathed. For who, when justice was present and in vigour, would think respecting his
own protection, since no one plotted against him; or respecting the destruction
of another, since no one desired anything?
"They, preferred to live content with a simple mode of life,"
as Cicero(10) relates in his poem; and this is peculiar to our religion. "It
was not even allowed to mark out or to divide the plain with a boundary: men
sought all things in common;"(11) since God had given the earth in common to all,
that they might pass their life in common, not that mad and raging avarice
might claim all things for itself, and that that which was produced for all might
not be wanting to any. And this saying of the poet ought so to be taken, not as
suggesting the idea that individuals at that time had no private property, but
it must be regarded as a poetical figure; that we may understand that men were
so liberal, that they did not shut up the fruits of the earth produced for
them, nor did they in solitude brood over the things stored up, but admitted the
poor to share the fruits of their labour:--
"Now streams of milk, now streams of nectar flowed."(1)
And no wonder, since the storehouses of the good liberally lay open to all.
Nor did avarice intercept the divine bounty, and thus cause hunger and thirst in
common but all alike had abundance, since they who had possessions gave
liberally and bountifully to those who had not. But after that Saturnus had been
banished from heaven, and had arrived in Latium,--
"Exiled from his throne
By Jove, his mightier heir,"(2)--
since the people either through fear of the new king, or of their own accord,
had become corrupted and ceased to worship God, and had begun to esteem the
king in the place of Cool, since he himself, almost a parricide, was an example to
others to the injury of piety,--
"The most just Virgin in haste deserted the lands;"(3)
but not as Cicero says,(4)
"And settled, in the kingdom of Jupiter, and in a part of the heaven."
For how could she settle or tarry in the kingdom of him who expelled his
father from his kingdom, harassed him with war, and drove him as an exile over the
whole world?
"He gave to the black serpents their noxious poison,
And ordered wolves to prowl;(6)
that is, he introduced among men hatred, and envy, and stratagem; so that they
were poisonous as serpents, and rapacious as wolves. And they truly do this
who persecute those who are righteous and faithful towards God, and give to
judges the power of using violence against the innocent. Perhaps Jupiter may have
done something of this kind for the overthrow and removal of righteousness; and
on this account he is related to have made serpents fierce, and to have whetted
the spirit of wolves.
"Then war's indomitable rage,
And greedy lust of gain;"(7)
and not without reason. For the worship of God being taken away, men lost the
knowledge of good and evil. Thus the common intercourse of life perished from
among then, and the bond of human society was destroyed. Then they began to
contend with one another, and to plot, and to acquire for themselves glory from the
shedding of human blood.
CHAP. VI.--AFTER THE BANISHMENT OF JUSTICE, LUST, UNJUST LAWS, DARING,
AVARICE, AMBITION, PRIDE, IMPIETY, AND OTHER VICES REIGNED.
And the source of all these evils was lust; which, indeed, burst forth
from the contempt of true majesty. For not only did they who had a superfluity
fail to bestow a share upon others, but they even seized the property of others,
drawing everything to their private gain; and the things which formerly even
individuals laboured to obtain for the common use of men,(8) were now conveyed to
the houses of a few. Far, that they might subdue others by slavery, they began
especially to withdraw and collect together the necessaries of life, and to
keep them firmly shut up, that they might make the bounties of heaven their own;
not on account of kindness,(9) a feeling which had no existence in them, but
that they might sweep together all the instruments of lust and avarice. They also,
tinder the name of justice, passed most unequal and unjust laws, by which they
might defend their plunder and avarice against the force of the multitude.
They prevailed, therefore, as much by authority as by strength, or resources, or
malice. And since there was in them no trace of justice, the offices of which
are humanity, equity, pity, they now began to rejoice in a proud and swollen
inequality, and made(10) themselves higher than other men, by a retinue of
attendants, and by the sword, and by the brilliancy of their garments. For this reason
they invented for themselves honours, and purple robes, and fasces, that, being
supported by the terror produced by axes and swords, they might, as it were by
the right of masters, rule them, stricken with fear, and alarmed. Such was the
condition in which the life of man was placed by that king who, having
defeated and put to flight a parent, did not seize his kingdom, but set up an impious
tyranny by violence and armed men, and took away that golden age of justice,
and compelled men to become wicked and impious, even from this very circumstance,
that he turned them away from God to the worship of himself; and the terror of
his excessive power had extorted this.
For who would not fear him who was girded about with arms, whom the
unwonted gleam of steel and swords surrounded? Or what stranger would he spare who
had not even spared his own father? Whom, in truth, should he fear, who had
conquered in war, and destroyed by massacre the race of the Titans, which was strong
and excelling in might? What wonder if the whole multitude, pressed by unusual
fear, had given themselves up to the adulation of a single man? Him they
venerated, to him they paid the greatest honour. And since it is judged to be a kind
of obsequiousness to imitate the customs and vices of a king, all men laid
aside piety, lest, if they should live piously, they might seem to upbraid the
wickedness of the king. Thus, being corrupted by continual imitation, they
abandoned divine right, and the practice of living wickedly by degrees became a habit.
And now nothing remained of the pious and excellent condition of the preceding
age; but justice being banished, and drawing with her the truth, left to men
error, ignorance, and blindness. The poets therefore were ignorant, who sung
that she fled to heaven, to the kingdom of Jupiter. For if justice was on the
earth in the age which they call "golden," it is plain that she was driven away by
Jupiter, who changed the golden age. But the change of the age and the
expulsion of justice is to be deemed nothing else, as I have said, than the laying
aside of divine religion, which alone effects that man should esteem man dear, and
should know that he is bound to him by the tie of brotherhood, since God is
alike a Father to all, so as to share the bounties of the common God and Father
with those who do not possess them; to injure no one, to oppress no one, not to
close his door against a stranger, nor his ear against a suppliant, but to be
bountiful, beneficent, and liberal, which Tullius(1) thought to be praises
suitable to a king. This truly is justice, and this is, the golden age, which was
first corrupted when Jupiter reigned, and shortly afterwards, when he himself and
all his offspring were consecrated as gods, and the worship of many deities
undertaken, had been altogether taken away.
CHAP. VII.--OF THE COMING OF JESUS, AND ITS FRUIT; AND OF THE VIRTUES AND
VICES OF THAT AGE.
But God, as a most indulgent parent, when the last time approached, sent a
messenger to bring back that old age, and justice which had been put to
flight, that the human race might not be agitated by very great and perpetual errors.
Therefore the appearance of that golden time returned, and justice was
restored to the earth, but was assigned to a few; and this justice is nothing else
than the pious and religious worship of the one God. But perhaps some may be
inclined to ask, why, if this be justice, it is not given to all mankind, and the
whole multitude does not agree to it. This is a matter of great disputation, why
a difference was retained by God when He gave justice to the earth; and this I
have shown in another place, and whenever a favourable opportunity shall occur
it shall be explained. Now it is sufficient very briefly to signify it: that
virtue can neither be discerned, unless it has vices opposed to it; nor be
perfect, unless it is exercised by adversity.(2) For God designed that there should
be this distinction between good and evil things, that we may know from that
which is evil the quality of the good, and also the quality of the evil from the
good; nor can the nature of the one be understood if the other is taken away.
God therefore did not exclude evil, that the nature of virtue might be evident.
For how could patient endurance(3) retain its meaning and name if there were
nothing which we were compelled to endure?(4) How could faith devoted to its God
deserve praise, unless there were some one who wished to turn us away from God?
For on this account He permitted the unjust to be more powerful, that they
might be able to compel to evil; and on this account to be more numerous, that
virtue might be precious, because it is rare. And this very point is admirably and
briefly shown by Quintilian in "the muffled head."(5) "For what virtue," he
says, "would there be in innocence, had not its rarity furnished it with praises?
But because it is provided by nature that hatred, desire, and anger drive men
blindly to that object to which they have applied themselves, to be free from
fault appears to be beyond the power of man. Otherwise, if nature had given to
all men equal affections, piety would be nothing."
How true this is, the necessity of the case itself teaches. For if it is
virtue to resist with fortitude evils and vices, it is evident that, without
evil and vice, there is no perfected virtue; and that God might render this
complete and perfect, He retained that which was contrary to it, with which it might
contend. For, being agitated by evils which harass it, it gains stability; and
in proportion to the frequency with which it is urged onward, is the firmness
with which it is strengthened. This is evidently the cause which effects that,
although justice is sent to men, yet it cannot be said that a golden age exists;
because God has not taken away evil, that He might retain that diversity which
alone preserves the mystery of a divine religion.
CHAP. VIII.--OF JUSTICE KNOWN TO ALL, BUT NOT EMBRACED; OF THE TRUE TEMPLE OF
GOD, AND OF HIS WORSHIP,THAT ALL VICES MAY BE SUBDUED.
They, therefore, who think that no one is just, have justice before their
eyes, but are unwilling to discern it. For what reason is there why they should
describe it either in poems or in all their discourse, complaining of its
absence, when it is very easy for them to be good if they wish? Why do you depict
to yourselves justice as worthless,(1) and wish that she may fall from heaven,
as it were, represented in some image? Behold, she is in your sight; receive
her, if you are able, and place her in the abode of your breast; and do not
imagine that this is difficult, or unsuited to the times. Be just and good, and the
justice which you seek will follow you of her own accord. Lay aside every evil
thought from your hearts, and that golden age will at once return to you, which
you cannot attain to by any other means than by beginning to worship the true
God. But you long for justice on the earth, while the worship of false gods
continues, which cannot possibly come to pass. But it was not possible even at that
time when you imagine, because those deities whom you impiously worship were
not yet produced, and the worship of the one God must have prevailed throughout
the earth; of that God, I say, who hates wickedness and requires goodness;
whose temple is not stones or clay, but man himself, who bears the image of God.
And this temple is adorned not with corruptible gifts of gold and jewels, but
with the lasting offices of virtues. Learn, therefore, if any intelligence is left
to you, that men are wicked and unjust because gods are worshipped; and that
all evils daily increase to the affairs of men on this account, because God the
Maker and Governor of this world has been neglected; because, contrary to that
which is right, impious superstitions have been taken up; and lastly, because
you do not permit God to be worshipped even by a few. But if God only were
worshipped, there would not be dissensions and wars, since men would know that they
are the sons of one God; and, therefore, among those who were connected by the
sacred and inviolable bond of divine relationship, there would be no plottings,
inasmuch as they would know what kind of punishments God prepared for the
destroyers of souls, who sees through secret crimes, and even the very thoughts
themselves. There would be no frauds or plunderings if they had learned, through
the instruction of God, to be content with that which was their own, though
little, so that they might prefer solid and eternal things to those which are frail
and perishable. There would be no adulteries, and debaucheries, and
prostitution of women, if it were known to all, that whatever is sought beyond the desire
of procreation is condemned by God.(2) Nor would necessity, compel a woman to
dishonour her modesty, to seek for herself a most disgraceful mode of
sustenance; since the males also would restrain their lust, and the pious and religious
contributions of the rich would succour the destitute. There would not,
therefore, as I have said, be these evils on the earth, if there were by common
Consent a general observance(3) of the law of God, if those things were done by all
which our people alone perform. How happy and how golden would be the condition
of human affairs, if throughout the world gentleness, and piety, and peace, and
innocence, and equity, and temperance, and faith, took up their abode! In
short, there would be no need of so many and varying laws to rule men, since the
law of God alone would be sufficient for perfect innocence; nor would there be
any need of prisons, or the swords of rulers, or the terror of punishments, since
the wholesomeness of the divine precepts infused into the breasts of men would
of itself instruct them to works of justice. But now men are wicked through
ignorance of what is right and good. And this, indeed, Cicero saw; for,
discoursing on the subject of the laws,(4) he says: "As the world, with all its parts
agreeing with one another, coheres and depends upon one and the same nature, so
all men, being naturally confused among themselves, disagree through depravity;
nor do they understand that they are related by blood, and that they are all
subject to one and the same guardianship: for if this were kept in mind,
assuredly men would live the life of gods." Therefore the unjust and impious worship of
the gods has introduced all the evils by which mankind in turn destroy one
another. For they could not retain their piety, who, as prodigal and rebellious
children, had renounced the authority of Coot, the common parent of all.
CHAP. IX.--OF THE CRIMES OF THE WICKED, AND THE TORTURE INFLICTED ON THE
CHRISTIANS.
At times, however, they perceive that they are wicked, and praise the
condition of the former ages, and conjecture that justice is absent because of
their characters and deserts; for, though she presents herself to their eyes, they
not only fail to receive or recognise her, but they even violently hate, and
persecute, and endeavour to banish her. Let us suppose, in the meantime, that
she whom we follow is not justice: how will they receive her whom they imagine to
be the true justice, if she shall have come, when they torture and kill those
whom they themselves confess to be imitators of the just, because they perform
good and just actions; whereas, if they should put to death the wicked only,
they would deserve to be unvisited by justice, who had no other reason for
leaving the earth than the shedding of human blood? How much more so when they slay
the righteous, and account the followers of justice themselves as enemies, yea,
as more than enemies; who, though they eagerly seek their lives, and property,
and children by sword and fire, yet are spared when conquered; and there is a
place for clemency even amidst arms; or if they have determined to carry their
cruelty to the utmost, nothing more is done towards them, except that they are
put to death or led away to slavery! But this is unutterable which is done
towards those who are ignorant of crime, and none are regarded as more guilty than
those who are of all men innocent. Therefore most wicked men venture to make
mention of justice, men who surpass wild beasts in ferocity, who lay waste the
most gentle flock of God,--
"Like gaunt wolves rushing from their den,
Whom lawless hunger's sullen growl
Drives forth into the night to prowl."(1)
But these have been maddened not by the fury of hunger, but of the heart;
nor do they prowl in a black mist, but by open plundering; nor does the
consciousness of their crimes ever recall them from profaning the sacred and holy name
of justice with that mouth which, like the jaws of beasts, is wet with the
blood of the innocent. What must we say is especially the cause of this excessive
and persevering hatred?
"Does truth produce hatred,"(2)
as the poet says, as though inspired by the Divine Spirit, or are they ashamed
to be bad in the presence of the just and good? Or is it rather from both
causes? For the truth is always hateful on this account, because he who sins wishes
to have free scope for sinning, and thinks that he cannot in any other way
more securely enjoy the pleasure of his evil doings, than if there is no one whom
his faults may displease. Therefore they endeavour entirely to exterminate and,
take them away as witnesses of their crimes and wickedness, and think them
burthensome to: themselves, as though their life were reproved. For why should any
be unseasonably good, who, when the public morals are corrupted, should
censure them by living well? Why should not all be equally wicked, rapacious,
unchaste, adulterers, perjured, covetous, and fraudulent? Why should they not rather
be taken out of the way, in whose presence they are ashamed to lead an evil
life, who, though not by words, for they are silent, but by their very course of
life, so unlike their own, assail and strike the forehead of sinners? For whoever
disagrees with them appears to reprove them.
Nor is it greatly to be wondered at if these things are done towards men,
since for the same cause the people who were placed in hope,(3) and not
ignorant of God, rose up against God Himself; and the same necessity follows the
righteous which attacked the Author of righteousness Himself. Therefore they harass
and torment them with studied kinds of punishments, and think it little to kill
those whom they hate, unless cruelty also mocks their bodies. But if any
through fear of pain or death, or by their own perfidy, have deserted the heavenly
oath,(4) and have consented to deadly sacrifices, these they praise and load(5)
with honours, that by their ample they may allure others. But upon those who
have highly esteemed their faith, and have not denied that they are worshippers
of God, they fall with all the strength of their butchery, as though they
thirsted for blood; and they call them desperate,(6) because they by no means spare
their body; as though anything could be more desperate, than to torture and tear
in pieces him whom you know to be innocent. Thus no sense of shame remains
among those from whom all kind feeling is absent, and they retort upon just men
reproaches which are befitting to themselves. For they call them impious, being
themselves forsooth pious, and shrinking from the shedding of human blood;
whereas, if they would consider their own acts, and the acts of those whom they
condemn as impious, they would now understand how false they are, and more
deserving of all those things which they either say or do against the good. For they
are not of our number, but of theirs who besiege the roads in arms, practise
piracy by sea; or if it has not been in their power openly to assail, secretly mix
poisons; who kill their wives that they may gain their dowries, or their
husbands that they may marry adulterers; who either strangle the sons born from
themselves, or if they are too pious, expose them; who restrain their incestuous
passions neither from a daughter, nor sister, nor mother, nor priestess; who
conspire against their own citizens and country; who do not fear the sack;(1) who,
in fine, commit sacrilege, and despoil the temples of the gods whom they
worship; and, to speak of things which are light and usually practised by them, who
hunt for inheritances, forge wills, either remove or exclude the just heirs; who
prostitute their own persons to lust; who, in short, unmindful of what they
were born, contend with women in passivity;(2) who, in violation of all
propriety,(3) pollute and dishonour the most sacred part of their body; who mutilate
themselves, and that which is more impious, in order that they may be priests of
religion; who do not even spare their own life, but sell their lives to be taken
away in public; who, if they sit as judges, corrupted by a bribe, either
destroy the innocent or set free the guilty without punishment; who grasp at the
heaven itself by sorceries, as though the earth would not contain their wickedness.
These crimes, I say, and more than these, are plainly committed by those who
are worshippers of the gods.
Amidst these crimes of such number and magnitude, what place is there for
justice? And I have collected a few only out of many, not for the purpose of
censure, but to show their nature. Let those who shall wish to know all take in
hand the books of Seneca, who was at the same time a most true describer and a
most vehement accuser of the public morals and vices. But Lucilius also briefly
and concisely described that dark life in these verses: "But now from morn to
night, on festival and ordinary day alike, the whole people and the fathers with
one accord display themselves in(4) the forum, and never depart from it. They
have all given themselves to one and the same pursuit and art, that they may be
able cautiously to deceive, to fight treacherously, to contend in flattery,
each to pretend that he is a good man, to lie in wait, as if all were enemies to
all." But which of these things can be laid to the charge of our people,(5)
with whom the whole of religion consists in living without guilt and without spot?
Since, therefore, they see that both they and their people do those things
which we have said, but that ours practise nothing else but that which is just and
good, they might, if they had any understanding, have perceived from this,
both that they who do what is good are pious, and that they themselves who commit
wicked actions are impious. For it is impossible that they who do not err in
all the actions of their life, should err in the main point, that is, in
religion, which is the chief of all things. For impiety, if taken up in that which is
the most important, would follow through all the rest. And therefore(6) it is
impossible that they who err in the whole of their life should not be deceived
also in religion; inasmuch as piety, if it kept its rule in the chief point,
would maintain its course in others. Thus it happens, that on either side the
character of the main subject may be known from the state of the actions which are
carried on.
CHAP. X.--OF FALSE PIETY, AND OF FALSE AND TRUE RELIGION.
It is worth while to investigate their piety, that from their merciful and
pious actions it may be understood what is the character of those things which
are done by them contrary to the laws of piety. And that I may not seem to
attack any one with harshness, I will take a character from the poets, and one
which is the greatest example of piety.In Maro, that king "Than who The breath of
being none e'er drew, More brave, more pious, or more true,"(7)--what proofs of
justice did he bring forward to us?
"There walk with hands fast bound behind
The victim prisoners, designed
For slaughter o'er the flames."(8)
What can be more merciful than this piety? what more merciful than to immolate
human victims to the dead, and to feed the fire with the blood of men as with
oil? But perhaps this may not have been the fault of the hero himself, but of
the poet, who polluted with distinguished wickedness "a man distinguished by his
piety."(9) Where then, O poet, is that piety which you so frequently praise?
Behold the pious AEneas:--
"Four hapless youths of Sulmo's breed,
And four who Ufens call their sire,
He takes alive, condemned to bleed
To Pallas' shade on Pallas' pyre."(10)
Why, therefore, at the very same time when he was sending the men in chains to
slaughter, did he say,
"Fain would I grant the living peace,"(11)
when he ordered that those whom he had in his power alive should be slain in
the place of cattle? But this, as I have said, was not his fault--for he perhaps
had not received a liberal education--but yours; for, though you were learned,
yet you were ignorant of the nature of piety, and you believed that that
wicked and detestable action of his was the befitting exercise of piety. He is
plainly called pious on this account only, because he loved his father. Why should I
say that
"The good AEneas owned their plea,"(1)
and yet slew them? For, though adjured by the same father, and
"By young Lulus' dawning day,"(2)
he did not spare them,
"Live fury kindling every vein"(3)
What! can any one imagine that there was any virtue in him who was fired with
madness as stubble, and, forgetful of the shade of his father. by whom he was
entreated, was unable to curb his wrath? He was therefore by no means pious who
not only slew the unresisting, but even suppliants. Here some one will say:
What then, or where, or of what character is piety? Truly it is among those who
are ignorant of wars, who maintain concord with all, who are friendly even to
their enemies, who love all men as brethren, who know how to restrain their anger,
and to soothe every passion of the mind with calm government. How great a
mist, therefore, how great a cloud of darkness and errors, has over-spread the
breasts of men who, when they think themselves especially pious, then become
especially impious? For the more religiously they honour those earthy images, so much
the more wicked are they towards the name of the true divinity. And therefore
they are often harassed with greater evils as the reward of their impiety; and
because they know not the cause of these evils, the blame is altogether
ascribed to fortune, and the philosophy of Epicurus finds a place who thinks that
nothing extends to the gods, and that they are neither influenced by favour nor
moved by anger, because they often see their despisers happy, and their
worshippers in misery. And this happens on this account, because when they seem to be
religious and naturally good, they are believed to deserve nothing of that kind
which they often suffer. However, they console themselves by accusing fortune;
nor do they perceive that if she had any existence, she would never injure her
worshippers. Piety of this kind is therefore deservedly followed by punishment;
and the deity offended with the wickedness of men who are depraved in their
religious worship,(4) punishes them with heavy misfortune; who, although they live
with holiness in the greatest faith and innocence, yet because they worship
gods whose impious and profane rites are an abomination to the true God, are
estranged from justice and the name of true piety. Nor is it difficult to show why
the worshippers of the gods cannot be good and just. For how shall they abstain
from the shedding of blood who worship bloodthirsty deities, Mars and Bellona?
or how shall they spare their parents who worship Jupiter, who drove out his
father? or how shall they spare their own infants who worship Saturnus? how shall
they uphold chastity who worship a goddess who is naked, and an adulteress,
and who prostitutes herself as it were among the gods? how shall they withhold
themselves from plunder and frauds who are acquainted with the thefts of
Mercurius, who teaches that to deceive is not the part of fraud, but of cleverness?
how shall they restrain their lusts who worship Jupiter, Hercules, Liber, Apollo,
and the others, whose adulteries and debaucheries with men and women are not
only known to the learned, but are even set forth in the theatres, and made the
subject of songs, so that they are notorious(5) to all? Among these things is
it possible for men to be just, who, although they were naturally good, would be
trained to injustice by the very gods themselves? For, that you may propitiate
the god whom you worship, there is need of those things with which you know
that he is pleased and delighted. Thus it comes to pass that the god fashions the
life of his worshippers according to the character of his own will,(6) since
the most religious worship is to imitate.
CHAP XI.--OF THE CRUELTY OF THE HEATHENS AGAINST THE CHRISTIANS.
Therefore, because justice is burthensome and unpleasant to those men who
agree with the character of their gods, they exercise with violence against the
righteous the same impiety which they show in other things. And not without
reason are they spoken of by the prophets as beasts. Therefore it is excellently
said by Marcus Tullius:(7) "For if there is no one who would not prefer to die
than to be changed into the figure of a beast, although he is about to have the
mind of a man, how much more wretched is it to be of a brutalized mind in the
figure of a man! To me, indeed, it seems as much worse as the mind is more
excellent than the body." Therefore they view with disdain the bodies of beasts,
though they are themselves more cruel than these; and they pride themselves on
this account, that they were born men, though they have nothing belonging to man
except the features and the eminent figure. For what Caucasus, what India, what
Hyrcania ever nourished beasts so. savage and so bloodthirsty? For the fury of
all wild beasts rages until their appetite is satisfied; and when their hunger
is appeased, immediately is pacified.That is truly a beast by whose command
alone
"With rivulets of slaughter reeks
The stern embattled field."
"Dire agonies, wild terrors swarm,
And Death glares grim in many a form."(1)
No one can befittingly describe the cruelty of this beast, which reclines in
one place, and yet rages with iron teeth throughout the world, and not only
tears in pieces the limbs of men, but also breaks their very bones, and rages over
their ashes, that there may be no place for their burial, as though they who
confess God aimed at this, that their tombs should be visited, and not rather
that they themselves may reach the presence of God.
What brutality is it, what fury, what madness, to deny light to the
living, earth to the dead? I say, therefore, that nothing is more wretched than those
men whom necessity has either found or made the ministers of another's fury,
the satellites of an impious command. For that was no honour, or exaltation of
dignity, but the condemnation of a man to torture, and also to the everlasting
punishment of God. But it is impossible to relate what things they performed
individually throughout the world. For what number of volumes will contain so
infinite, so varied kinds of cruelty? For, having gained power, every one raged
according to his own disposition. Some, through excessive timidity, proceeded to
greater lengths than they were commanded; others thus acted through their own
particular hatred against the righteous; some by a natural ferocity of mind; some
through a desire to please, and that by this service they might prepare the
way to higher offices: some were swift to slaughter, as an individual in Phrygia,
who burnt a whole assembly of people, together with their place of meeting.
But the more cruel he was, so much the more merciful(2) is he found to be. But
that is the worst kind of persecutors whom a false appearance of clemency
flatters; he is the more severe, he the more cruel torturer, who determines to put no
one to death. Therefore it cannot be told what great and what grievous modes
of tortures judges of this kind devised, that they might arrive at the
accomplishment of their purpose. But they do these things not only on this account, that
they may be able to boast that they have slain none of the innocent,--for I
myself have heard some boasting that their administration has been in this
respect without bloodshed,--but also for the sake of envy, lest either they
themselves should be overcome, or the others should obtain the glory due to their
virtue. And thus, in devising modes of punishment, they think of nothing else besides
victory. For they know that this is a contest and a battle. I saw in Bithynia
the prefect wonderfully elated with joy, as though he had subdued some nation
of barbarians, because one who had resisted for two years with great spirit
appeared at length to yield. They contend, therefore, that they may conquer and
inflict exquisite(3) pains on their bodies, and avoid nothing else but that the
victims may not die under the torture: as though, in truth, death alone could
make them happy, and as though tortures also in proportion to their severity would
not produce greater glory of virtue. But they with obstinate folly give orders
that diligent care shall be given to the tortured, that their limbs may be
renovated for other tortures, and fresh blood be supplied for punishment. What can
be so pious, so beneficent, so humane? They would not have bestowed such
anxious care on any whom they loved. This is the discipline of the gods: to these
deeds they train their worshippers; these are the sacred rites which they
require. Moreover, most wicked murderers have invented impious laws against the pious.
For both sacrilegious ordinances and unjust disputations of jurists are read.
Domitius, in his seventh book, concerning the office of the proconsul, has
collected wicked rescripts of princes, that he might show by what punishments they
ought to be visited who confessed themselves to be worshippers of God.
CHAP.XII.--OF TRUE VIRTUE; AND OF THE ESTIMATION OF A GOOD OR BAD CITIZEN.
What would you do to those who give the name of justice to the tortures
inflicted by tyrants of old, who fiercely raged against the innocent; and though
they are teachers of injustice and cruelty, wish to appear just and prudent,
being blind and dull, and ignorant of affairs and of truth? Is justice so hateful
to you, O abandoned minds, that ye regard it as equal with the greatest
crimes? Is innocence so utterly lost in your eyes, that you do not think it worthy of
death only,(4) but it is esteemed as beyond all crimes to commit no crime, and
to have a breast pure from all contagion of guilt? And since we arc speaking
generally with those who worship gods, let us have your permission to do good
with you; for this is our law, this our business, this our religion. If we appear
to you wise, imitate us; if foolish, despise us, or even laugh at us, if you
please; for our folly is profitable to us. Why do you lacerate, why do you
afflict us? We do not envy your wisdom. We prefer this folly of ours--we embrace
this. We believe that this is expedient for us,--to love you, and to confer all
things upon you, who hate us.
There is in the writings of Cicero(1) a passage not inconsistent with the
truth, in that disputation which is held by Furius against justice: "I ask," he
says, "if there should be two men, and one of them should be an excellent man,
of the highest integrity, the greatest justice, and remarkable faith, and the
other distinguished by crime and audacity; and if the state should be in such
error as to regard that good man as wicked, vicious, and execrable, but should
think the one who is most wicked to be of the highest integrity and faith; and
if, in accordance with this opinion of all the citizens, that good man should be
harassed, dragged away, should be deprived of his hands, have his eyes dug
out, should be condemned, be bound, be branded, be banished, be in want, and
lastly, should most justly appear to all to be most wretched; but, on the other
hand, if that wicked man should be praised, and honoured, and loved by all,--if all
honours, all commands, all wealth, and all abundance should be bestowed upon
him,--in short, if he should be judged in the estimation of all an excellent
man, and most worthy of all fortune,--who, I pray, will be so mad as to doubt
which of the two he would prefer to be?" Assuredly he put forth this example as
though he divined what evils were about to happen to us, and in what manner, on
account of righteousness; for our people suffer all these things through the
perverseness of those in error. Behold, the state, or rather the whole world
itself, is in such error, that it persecutes, tortures, condemns, and puts to death
good and righteous men, as though they were wicked and impious. For as to what
he says, that no one is so infatuated as to doubt which of the two he would
prefer to be, he indeed, as the one who was contending against justice, thought
this, that the wise man would prefer to be bad if he had a good reputation, than
to be good with a bad reputation.
But may this senselessness be absent from us, that we should prefer that
which is false to the true? Or does the character of our good man depend upon
the errors of the people, more than upon our own conscience and the judgment of
God? Or shall any prosperity ever allure us, so that we should not rather choose
true goodness, though accompanied with all evil, than false goodness together
with all prosperity? Let kings retain their kingdoms, the rich their riches, as
Plautus says,(2) the wise their wisdom: let them leave to us our folly, which
is evidently proved to be wisdom, from the very fact that they envy us its
possession: for who would envy a fool, but he who is himself most foolish? But they
are not so foolish as to envy fools; but from the fact of their following us
up with such care and anxiety, they allow that we are not fools. For why should
they rage with such cruelty, unless it is that they fear lest, as justice grows
strong from day to day, they should be deserted together with their
decaying(3) gods? If, therefore, the worshippers of gods are wise, and we are foolish,
why do they fear lest the wise shall be allured by the foolish?