THE DIVINE INSTITUTES. BOOK VI--OF TRUE WORSHIP (CHAP. I TO CHAP. XII)
THE DIVINE INSTITUTES
BOOK VI.
OF TRUE WORSHIP.
CHAP. I.--OF THE WORSHIP OF THE TRUE GOD, AND OF INNOCENCY, AND OF THE WORSHIP
OF FALSE GODS.
We have completed that which was the object of our undertaking, through
the teaching of the Divine Spirit, and the aid of the truth itself; the cause of
asserting and explaining which was imposed upon me both by conscience and
faith, and by our Lord Himself, without whom nothing can be known or clearly set
forth. I come now to that which is the chief and greatest part of this work--to
teach in what manner or by what sacrifice God must be worshipped. For that is the
duty of man, and in that one object the sum of all things and the whole course
of a happy life consists, since we were fashioned and received the breath of
life from Him on this account, not that we might behold the heaven and the sun,
as Anaxagoras supposed, but that we might with pure and uncorrupted mind
worship Him who made the sun and the heaven. But although in the preceding books, as
far as my moderate talent permitted, I defended the truth, yet it may
especially be elucidated(1) by the mode of worship itself. For that sacred and
surpassing majesty requires from man nothing more than innocence alone; and if any one
has presented this to God, he has sacrificed with sufficient piety and religion.
But men, neglecting justice, though they are polluted by crimes and outrages
of all kinds, think themselves religious if they have stained the temples and
altars with the blood of victims, if they have moistened the hearths with a
profusion of fragrant and old wine. Moreover, they also prepare sacred feasts and
choice banquets, as though, they offered to those who would taste something from
them. Whatever is rarely to be viewed, whatever is precious in workmanship or
in fragrance, that they judge to be pleasing to their gods, not by any
reference to their divinity, of which they are ignorant, but from their own desires;
nor do they understand that God is in no want of earthly resources.
For they have no knowledge of anything except the earth, and they estimate
good and evil things by the perception and pleasure of the body alone. And as
they judge of religion according to its pleasure, so also they arrange the acts
of their whole life. And since they have turned away once for all from the
contemplation of the heaven, and have made that heavenly faculty the slave of the
body, they give the reins to their lusts, as though they were about to bear
away pleasure with themselves, which they hasten to enjoy at every moment; whereas
the soul ought to employ the service of the body, and not the booty to make
use of the service of the soul. The same men judge riches to be the greatest
good. And if they cannot obtain them by good practices, they endeavour to obtain
them by evil practices; they deceive, they carry off by violence, they plunder,
they lie in wait, they deny on oath; in short, they have no consideration or
regard for anything,(2) if only they can glitter with gold, and shine conspicuous
with plate, with jewels, and with garments, can spend riches upon their greedy
appetite, and always walk attended with crowds of slaves through the people
compelled to give way.(3) Thus devoting(4) themselves to the service of pleasures,
they extinguish the force and vigour of the mind; and when they especially
think that they are alive, they are hastening with the greatest precipitation to
death. For, as we showed in the second book. the soul is concerned with heaven,
the body with the earth.(5) They who neglect the goods of the soul, and seek
those of the body, are engaged with darkness and death, which belong to the earth
and to the body, because life and light are from heaven; and they who are
without this, by serving the body, are far removed from the understanding of divine
things. The same blindness everywhere oppresses the wretched men; for as they
know not who is the true God, so they know not what constitutes true worship.
CHAP. II.--OF THE WORSHIP OF FALSE GODS AND THE TRUE GOD.
Therefore they sacrifice fine and fat victims to God, as though He were
hungry; they pour forth wine to Him, as though He were thirsty they kindle lights
to Him, as though He were in darkness.(1) But if they were able to conjecture
or to conceive in their mind what those heavenly goods are, the greatness of
which we cannot imagine, while we are still encompassed with an earthly body,
they would at once know that they are most foolish with their empty offices. Or if
they would contemplate that heavenly light which we call the sun, they will at
once perceive how God has no need of their candles, who has Himself given so
clear and bright a light for the use of man.(1) And when, in so small a circle,
which on account of its distance appears to have a measure no greater than that
of a human head, there is still so much brilliancy that mortal eye cannot
behold it, and if you should direct your eye to it for a short time mist and
darkness would overspread your dimmed eyes, what light, I pray, what brightness, must
we suppose that there is in God, with whom there is no night? For He has so
attempered this very light, that it might neither injure living creatures by
excessive brightness or vehement heat, and has given it so much of these properties
as mortal bodies might endure or the ripening of the crops require. Is that
man, therefore, to be thought in his senses, who presents the light of candles
and torches as an offering to Him who is the Author and Giver of light? The light
which He requires from us is of another kind, and that indeed not accompanied
with smoke, but (as the poet says) clear and bright; I mean the light of the
mind, on account of which we are called by the poets photes,(2) which light no
one can exhibit unless he has known God. But their gods, because they are of the
earth, stand in need of lights, that they may not be in darkness; and their
worshippers, because they have no taste for anything heavenly, are recalled to
the earth even by the religious rites to which they are devoted.(1) For on the
earth there is need of a light, because its system and nature are dark.
Therefore they do not attribute to the gods a heavenly perception, but rather a human
one. And on this account they believe that the same things are necessary and
pleasing to them as to us, who, when hungry, have need of food; or, when thirsty,
of drink; or, when we are cold, require a garment; or, when the sun has
withdrawn himself, require a light that we may be able to see.(3)
From nothing, therefore, can it be so plainly proved and understood that
those gods, since they once lived, are dead, as from their worship itself,
which is altogether of the earth. For what heavenly influence can there be in the
shedding of the blood of beasts, with which they stain their altars? unless by
chance they imagine that the gods feed upon that which men shrink from touching.
And whoever shall have offered to them this food,(4) although he be an
assassin, an adulterer, a sorcerer, or a parricide, he will he happy and prosperous.
Him they love, him they defend, to him they afford all things which he shall
wish for. Persius therefore deservedly ridicules superstitions of this kind in
his own style:(5) " With what bribe," he says, "dost thou win the ears of gods?
Is it with lungs and rich intestines?" He plainly perceived that there is no
need of flesh for appeasing the majesty of heaven, but of a pure mind and a just
spirit, and a breast, as he himself says, which is generous with a natural love
of honour. This is the religion of heaven--not that which consists of corrupt
things, but of the virtues of the soul, which has its origin from heaven; this
is true worship, in which the mind of the worshipper presents itself as an
undefiled offering to God. But how this is to be obtained, how it is to be afforded,
the discussion of this book will show; for nothing can be so illustrious and
so suited to man as to train men to righteousness.(6)
In Cicero, Catulus in the Hortensius, while he prefers philosophy to all
things, says that he would rather have one short treatise respecting duty, than
a long speech in behalf of a seditious man Cornelius. And this is plainly to be
regarded not as the opinion of Catulus, who perhaps did not utter this saying,
but as that of Cicero, who wrote it. I believe that he wrote it for the
purpose of recommending these books which he was about to write on Offices, in which
cry books he testifies that nothing in the whole range of philosophy is better
and more profitable than to give precepts for living. But if this is done by
those who do not know the truth, how much more ought we to do it, who are able
to give true precepts,(1) being taught and enlightened by God? Nor, however,
shall we so teach as though we were delivering the first elements of virtue, which
would be an endless task, but as though we had undertaken the instruction of
him who, with them, appears to be already perfect. For while their precepts
remain, which they are accustomed to give correctly, with a view to uprightness, we
will add to them things which were unknown to them, for the completion and
consummation of righteousness, which they do not possess. But I will omit those
things which are common to us with them, that I may not appear to borrow from
those whose errors I have determined to convict and bring to light.
CHAP. III.--OF THE WAYS, AND OF VICES AND VIRTUES; AND OF THE REWARDS OF
HEAVEN AND THE PUNISHMENTS OF HELL.
There are two ways,(2) O Emperor Constantine, by which human life must
proceed--the one which leads to heaven, the other which sinks to hell; and these
ways poets have introduced in their poems, and philosophers in their
disputations. And indeed philosophers have represented the one as belonging to virtues,
the other to vices; and they have represented that which belongs to virtues as
steep and rugged at the first entrance, in which if any one, having overcome the
difficulty, has climbed to the summit. they say that he afterwards has a level
path, a bright and pleasant plain, and that he enjoys abundant and delightful
fruits of his labours; but that those whom the difficulty of the first approach
has deterred, glide and turn aside into the way of vices, which at its first
entrance appears to be pleasant and much more beaten, but afterwards, when they
have advanced in it a little further, that the appearance of its pleasantness
is withdrawn, and that there arises a steep way, now rough with stones, now
overspread with thorns, now interrupted by deep waters or violent with torrents, so
that they must be in difficulty, hesitate, slip about, and fall. And all these
things are brought forward that it may appear that there are very great
labours in undertaking virtues, but that when they are gained there are the greatest
advantages, and firm and incorruptible pleasures; but that vices ensnare the
minds of men with certain natural blandishments, and lead them captivated by the
appearance of empty pleasures to bitter griefs and miseries,--an altogether
wise discussion, if they knew the forms and limits of the virtues themselves. For
they had not learned either what they are, or what reward awaits them from
God: but this we will show in these two books.
But these men, because they were ignorant or in doubt that the souls of
men are immortal, estimated both virtues and vices by earthly honours or
punishments. Therefore all this discussion respecting the two ways(3) has reference to
frugality and luxury. For they say that the course of human life resembles the
letter Y, because every one of men, when he has reached the threshold of early
youth, and has arrived at the place "where the way divides itself into two
parts,'"(4) is in doubt, and hesitates, and does not know to which side he should
rather turn himself. If he shall meet with a guide who may direct him wavering
to better things--that is, if he shall learn philosophy or eloquence, or some
honourable arts by which he may turn to good conduct,(5) which cannot take place
without great labour--they say that he will lead a life of honour and
abundance; but if he shall not meet with a teacher of temperance,(6) that he falls into
the way on the left hand, which assumes the appearance of the better,--that
is, he gives himself up to idleness, sloth, and luxury, which seem pleasant for a
time to one who is ignorant of true goods, but that afterwards, having lost
all his dignity and property, he will live in all wretchedness and ignominy.
Therefore they referred the end of those ways(3) to the body, and to this life
which we lead on earth. The poets perhaps did better, who would have it that this
twofold way was in the lower regions; but they are deceived in this, that they
proposed these ways to the dead. Both therefore spoke with truth, but yet both
incorrectly; for the ways themselves ought to have been referred to life, their
ends to death. We therefore speak better and more truly, who say that the two
ways(3) belong to heaven and hell, because immortality is promised to the
righteous, and everlasting punishment is threatened to the unrighteous.
But I will explain how these ways either exalt to heaven or thrust down to
hell, and I will set forth what these virtues are of which the philosophers
were ignorant; then I will show what are their rewards, and also what are vices,
and what their punishments. For perhaps some one may expect that I shall speak
separately of vices and virtues; whereas, when we discuss the subject of good
or evil, that which is contrary may also be understood. For, whether you
introduce virtues, vices will spontaneously depart; or if you take away vices, virtues
will of their own accord succeed. The nature of good and evil things is so
fixed, that they always oppose and drive out one another: and thus it comes to
pass that vices cannot be removed without virtues, nor can virtues be introduced
without the removal of vices. Therefore we bring forward these ways in a very
different manner from that in which the philosophers are accustomed to present
them: first of all, because we say that a guide is proposed to each, and in each
case an immortal: but that the one is honoured who presides over virtues and
good qualities, the other condemned who presides over vices and evils. But they
place a guide only on the right side, and that not one only, nor a lasting one;
inasmuch as they introduce any teacher of a good art, who may recall men from
sloth, and teach them to be temperate. But they do not represent any as
entering upon that way except boys and young men; for this reason, that the arts are
learned at these ages. We, on the other hand, lead those of each sex, every age
and race, into this heavenly path, because God, who is the guide of that way,
denies immortality to no human being.(1) The shape also of the ways themselves
is not as they supposed. For what need is there of the letter Y in matters which
are different and opposed to one another? But the one which is better is
turned towards the rising of the sun, the other which is worse towards its setting:
since he who follows truth and righteousness, having received the reward of
immortality, will enjoy perpetual light; but he who, enticed by that evil guide,
shall prefer vices to virtues, falsehood to truth, must be borne to the setting
of the sun, and to darkness.(2) I will therefore describe each, and will point
out their properties and habits.
CHAP. IV.--OF THE WAYS OF LIFE, OF PLEASURES, ALSO OF THE HARDSHIPS OF
CHRISTIANS.
There is one way, therefore, of virtue and the good, which leads, not, as
the poets say, to the Elysian plains, but to the very citadel of the world:--
"The left gives sinners up to pain,
And leads to Tartarus' guilty reign."(3)
For it belongs to that accuser who, having invented false religions, turns men
away from the heavenly path, and leads them into the way of perdition. And the
appearance and shape of this way is so composed to the sight, that it appears
to be level and open, and delightful with all kinds of flowers and fruits. For
there are placed(4) in it all things which are esteemed on earth as good
things--I mean wealth, honour, repose, pleasure, all kinds of enticements; but
together with these also injustice, cruelty, pride, perfidy, lust, avarice, discord,
ignorance, falsehood, folly, and other vices. But the end of this way is as
follows: When they have reached the point from which there is now no return, it is
so suddenly removed, together with all its beauty, that no one is able to
foresee the fraud before that he falls headlong into a deep abyss. For whoever is
captivated by the appearance of present goods, and occupied with the pursuit and
enjoyment of these, shall not have foreseen the things which are about to
follow after death, and shall have turned aside from God; he truly will be cast
down to hell, and be condemned to eternal punishment.
But that heavenly way is set forth as difficult and hilly, or rough with
dreadful thorns, or entangled with stones jutting out; so that every one must
walk with the greatest labour and wearing of the feet, and with great precautions
against failing. In this he has placed justice, temperance, patience, faith,
chastity, self-restraint, concord, knowledge, truth, wisdom, and the other
virtues; hut together with these, poverty, ignominy, labour, pain, and all kinds of
hardship. For whoever has extended his hope beyond the present, and chosen
better things, will be without these earthly goods, that, being lightly equipped
and without impediment, he may overcome the difficulty of the way. For it is
impossible for him who has surrounded himself with royal pomp, or loaded himself
with riches, either to enter upon or to persevere in these difficulties. And from
this it is understood that it is easier for the wicked and the unrighteous to
succeed in their desires, because their road is downward and on the decline;
but that it is difficult for the good to attain to their wishes, because they
walk along a difficult and steep path. Therefore the righteous man, since he has
entered upon a hard and rugged way, must be an object of contempt, derision, and
hatred. For all whom desire or pleasure drags headlong, envy him who has been
able to attain to virtue, and take it ill that any one possesses that which
they themselves do not possess. Therefore he will be poor, humble, ignoble,
subject to injury, and yet enduring all things which are grievous; and if he shall
continue his patience unceasingly to that last step and end, the crown of virtue
will be given to him, and he will be rewarded by God with immortality for the
labours which he has endured in life for the sake of righteousness. These are
the ways which God has assigned to human life, in each of which he has shown both
good and evil things, but in a changed and inverted order. In the one he has
pointed out in the first place temporal evils followed by eternal goods, which
is the better order; in the other, first temporal goods followed by eternal
evils, which is the worse order: so that, whosoever has chosen present evils
together with righteousness, he will obtain greater and more certain goods than those
were which he despised; but whoever has preferred present goods to
righteousness, will fall into greater and more lasting evils than those were which he
avoided. For as this bodily life is short, therefore its goods and evils must also
be short; but since that spiritual life, which is contrary to this earthly
life, is everlasting, therefore its goods and evils are also everlasting. Thus it
comes to pass, that goods of short duration are succeeded by eternal evils, and
evils of short duration by eternal goods.
Since, therefore, good and evil things are set before man at the same
time, it is befitting that every one should consider with himself how much better
it is to compensate evils of short duration by perpetual goods, than to endure
perpetual evils for short and perishable goods. For as, in this life, when a
contest with an enemy is set before you, you must first labour that you may
afterwards enjoy repose, you must suffer hunger and thirst, you must endure heat and
cold, you must rest on the ground, must watch and undergo dangers, that your
children,(1) and house, and property being preserved, you may be able to enjoy
all the blessings of peace and victory; but if you should choose present ease in
preference to labour, you must do yourself the greatest injury: for the enemy
will surprise you offering no resistance, your lands will be laid waste, your
house plundered, your wife and children become a prey, you yourself will be slain
or taken prisoner; to prevent the occurrence of these things, present
advantage must be put aside, that a greater and more lasting advantage may be
gained;--so in the whole of this life, because God has provided an adversary for us,
that we might be able to acquire virtue, present gratification must be laid aside,
lest the enemy should overpower us. We must be on the watch, must post guards,
must undertake military expeditions, must shed our blood to the uttermost; in
short, we must patiently submit to all things which are unpleasant and
grievous, and the more readily because God our commander has appointed for us eternal
rewards for our labours. And since in this earthly warfare men expend so much
labour to acquire for themselves those things which may perish in the same
manner as that in which they were acquired, assuredly no labour ought to be refused
by us, by whom that is gained which can in no way be lost.
For God, who created men to this warfare, desired that they should stand
prepared in battle array, and with minds keenly intent should watch against the
stratagems or open attacks of our single enemy, who, as is the practice of
skilful and experienced generals, endeavours to ensnare us by various arts,
directing his rage according to the nature and disposition of each. For he infuses
into some insatiable avarice, that, being chained by their riches as by fetters,
he may drive them from the way of truth. He inflames others with the excitement
of anger, that while they are rather intent upon inflicting injury, he may turn
them aside from the contemplation of God. He plunges others into immoderate
lusts, that, giving themselves to pleasure of the body, they may be unable to
look towards virtue. He inspires others with envy, that, being occupied with their
own torments, they may think of nothing but the happipiness of those whom they
hate. He causes others to swell with ambitious desires. These are they who
direct the whole occupation and care of their life to the holding of magistracies,
that they may set a mark upon the annals,(2) and give a name to the years. The
desire of others mounts higher, not that they may rule provinces with the
temporal sword, but with boundless and perpetual power may wish to be called lords
of the whole human race.(3) Moreover, those whom he has seen to be pious he
involves in various(4) superstitions, that he may make them impious. But to those
who seek for wisdom, he dashes philosophy before their eyes,(5) that he may
blind them with the appearance of light, lest any one should grasp and hold fast
the truth. Thus he has blocked up all the approaches against men, and has
occupied the way, rejoicing in public errors; but that we might be able to dispel
these errors, and to overcome the author of evils himself, God has enlightened us,
and has armed us with true and heavenly virtue, respecting which I must now
speak.
CHAP. V.--OF FALSE AND TRUE VIRTUE; AND OF KNOWLEDGE.
But before I begin to set forth the separate virtues, I must mark out the
character of virtue itself, which the philosophers have not rightly defined, as
to its nature, or in what things it consisted; and I must describe its
operation and office. For they only retained the name, but lost its power, and
nature, and effect. But whatever they are accustomed to say in their definition of
virtue, Lucilius puts together and expresses in a few verses, which I prefer to
introduce, lest, while I refute the opinions of many, I should be longer than is
necessary:--
"It is virtue, O Albinus, to pay the proper price,
To attend to the matters in which we are engaged, and in which we live.
It is virtue for a man to know the nature of everything.
It is virtue for a man to know what is right and useful and honourable,
What things are good, and what are evil.
What is useless,(1) base, and dishonourable.
It is virtue to know the end of an object to be sought, and the means of
procuring it.
It is virtue to be able to assign their value to riches.
It is virtue to give that which is really due to honour;
To be the enemy and the foe(2) of bad men and manners, but, on the other
hand, the defender of good men and manners;
To esteem these highly, to wish them well, to live in friendship with them,
Moreover, to consider the interest of one's country first;
Then those of parents, to put our own interests in the third and last
place."
From these definitions, which the poet briefly puts together, Marcus Tullius
derived the offices of living, following Panaetius the Stoic,(3) and included
them in three books.
But we shall presently see how false these things are, that it may appear
how much the divine condescension has bestowed on us in opening to us the
truth. He says that it is virtue to know what is good and evil, what is base, what
is honourable, what is useful, what is useless. He might have shortened his
treatise if he had only spoken of that which is good and evil; for nothing can be
useful or honourable which is not also good, and nothing useless and base which
is not also evil. And this also appears to be thus to philosophers, and Cicero
shows it likewise in the third book of the above-mentioned treatise.(4) But
knowledge cannot be virtue, because it is not within us, but it comes to us from
without.But that which is able to pass from one to the other is not virtue,
because virtue is the property of each individual. Knowledge therefore consists in
a benefit derived from another; for it depends upon hearing. Virtue is
altogether our own; for it depends upon the will of doing that which is good. As,
therefore, in undertaking a journey, it is of no profit to know the way, unless we
also have the effort and strength for walking, so truly knowledge is of no avail
if our virtue fails. For, in general, even they who sin perceive what is good
and evil, though not perfectly; and as often as they act improperly, they know
that they sin, and therefore endeavour to conceal their actions. But though the
nature of good and evil does not escape their notice, they are overpowered by
an evil desire to sin, because they are wanting in virtue, that is, the desire
of doing right and honourable things. Therefore that the knowledge of good and
evil is one thing, and virtue another, appears from this, because knowledge
can exist without virtue, as it has been in the case of many of the philosophers;
in which, since not to have done what you knew to be right is justly
censurable, a depraved will and a vicious mind, which ignorance cannot excuse, will be
justly punished. Therefore, as the knowledge of good and evil is not virtue, so
the doing that which is good and the abstaining from evil is virtue. And yet
[knowledge is so united with virtue, that knowledge precedes virtue, and virtue
follows knowledge; because knowledge is of no avail unless it is followed up
by action. Horace therefore speaks somewhat better: "Virtue is the fleeing from
vice, and the first wisdom is to be free from folly."(5) But he speaks
improperly, because he defined virtue by its contrary, as though he should say, That is
good which is not evil. For when I know not what virtue is, I do not know what
vice is. Each therefore requires definition, because the nature of the case is
such that each must be understood or not understood.(6)
But let us do that which he ought to have done. It is a virtue to restrain
anger, to control desire, to curb lust; for this is to flee from vice. For
almost all things which are done unjustly and dishonestly arise from these
affections. For if the force of this emotion which is called anger be blunted, all the
evil contentions of men will be lulled to rest; no one will plot, no one will
rush forth to injure another. Also, if desire be restrained, no one will use
violence by land or by sea, no one will lead an army to carry off and lay waste
the property of others. Also, if the ardour of lusts be repressed, every age and
sex will retain its sanctity; no one will suffer, or do anything disgraceful.
Therefore all crimes and disgraceful actions will be taken away from the life
and character of men, if these emotions are appeased and calmed by virtue. And
this calming of the emotions and affections has this meaning, that we do all
things which are right. The whole duty of virtue then is, not to sin. And
assuredly he cannot discharge this who is ignorant of God, since ignorance of Him from
whom good things proceed must thrust a man unawares into vices. Therefore,
that I may more briefly and significantly fix the offices of each subject,
knowledge is to know God, virtue is to worship Him: the former implies wisdom, the
latter righteousness.
CHAP. VI.--OF THE CHIEF GOOD AND VIRTUE, AND Or KNOWLEDGE AND RIGHTEOUSNESS.
I have said that which was the first thing, that the knowledge of good is
not virtue; and secondly, I have shown what virtue is, and in what it consists.
It follows that I should show this also, that the philosophers were ignorant
of what is good and evil; and this briefly, because it has been almost(1) made
plain in the third book, when I was discussing the subject of the chief good.
And because they did not know what the chief good was, they necessarily erred in
the case of the other goods and evils which are not the chief; for no one can
weigh these with a true judgment who does not possess the fountain itself from
which they are derived. Now the source of good things is God; but of evils, he
who is always the enemy of the divine name, of whom we have often spoken. From
these two sources good and evil things have their origin. Those which proceed
from God have this object, to procure immortality, which is the greatest good;
but those which arise from the other have this office, to call man away from
heavenly things and sink him in earthly things, and thus to consign him to the
punishment of everlasting death, which is the greatest evil. Is it therefore
doubtful but that all those were ignorant of what was good and evil, who neither knew
God nor the adversary of God? Therefore they referred the end of good things
to the body, and to this short life, which must be dissolved and perish: they
did not advance further. But all their precepts, and all the things which they
introduce as goods, adhere to the earth, and lie on the ground, since they die
with the body, which is earth; for they do not tend to procure life for man, but
either to the acquisition or increase of riches, honour, glory, and power,
which are altogether mortal things, as much so indeed as he who has laboured to
obtain them. Hence is that saying,(2) "It is virtue to know the end of an
object(3) to be sought, and the means of procuring it;" for they enjoin by what means
and by what practices property is to be sought, for they see that it is often
sought unjustly. But virtue of this kind is not proposed to the wise man; for it
is not virtue to seek riches, of which neither the finding nor the possession
is in our power: therefore they are more easy to be gained and to be retained by
the bad than by the good. Virtue, then, cannot consist in the seeking of those
things in the despising of which the force and purport of virtue appears; nor
will it have recourse to those very things which, with its great and lofty
mind, it desires to trample upon and bruise under foot; nor is it lawful for a soul
which is earnestly fixed on heavenly goods to be called away from its immortal
pursuits, that it may acquire for itself these frail things. But the course(4)
of virtue especially consists in the acquisition of those things which neither
any man, nor death itself, can take away from us. Since these things are so,
that which follows is true: "It is virtue to be able to assign their value to
riches:" which verse is nearly of the same meaning as the first two. But neither
he nor any of the philosophers was able to know the price itself, either of
what nature or what it is; for the poet, and all those whom he followed, thought
that it meant to make a right use of riches,--that is, to be moderate in living,
not to make costly entertainments, not to squander carelessly, not to expend
property on superfluous or disgraceful objects.(5)
Some one will perhaps say, What do you say? Do you deny that this is
virtue? I do not deny it indeed; for if I should deny it, I should appear to prove
the opposite. But I deny that it is true virtue; because it is not that heavenly
principle, but is altogether of the earth, since it produces no effect but
that which remains on the earth.(6) But what it is to make a right use of wealth,
and what advantage is to be sought from riches, I will declare more openly when
I shall begin to speak of the duty of piety. Now the other things which follow
are by no means true; for to proclaim enmity against the wicked, or to
undertake the defence of the good, may be common to it with the evil. For some, by a
pretence of goodness, prepare the way for themselves to power, and do many
things which the good are accustomed to do, and that the more readily because they
do them for the sake of deceiving; and I wish that it were as easy to carry out
goodness in action as it is to pretend to it. But when they have begun to
attain to their purpose and their wish in reaching the highest step of power, then,
truly laying aside pretence, these men discover their character; they seize
upon everything, and offer violence, and lay waste; and they press upon the good
themselves, whose cause they had undertaken; and they cut away the steps by
which they mounted, that no one may be able to imitate them against themselves.
But, however, let us suppose that this duty of defending the good belongs only to
the good man. Yet to undertake it is easy, to fulfil it is difficult; because
when you have committed yourself to a contest and an encounter, the victory is
placed at the disposal of God, not in your own power. And for the most part the
wicked are more powerful both in number and in combination than the good, so
that it is not so much virtue which is necessary to overcome them as good
fortune. Is any one ignorant how often the better and the juster side has been
overcome? From this cause harsh tyrannies have always broken out against the citizens.
All history is full of examples, but we will be content with one. Cnoeus
Pompeius wished to be the defender of the good, since he took up arms in defence of
the commonwealth, in defence of the senate, and in defence of liberty; and yet
the same man, being conquered, perished together with liberty itself,(1) and
being mutilated by Egyptian eunuchs, was cast forth unburied.(2)
It is not virtue, therefore, either to be the enemy of the bad or the
defender of the good, because virtue cannot be subject to uncertain chances.
"Moreover, to reckon the interests of our country as in the first place."
When the agreement of men is taken away, virtue has no existence at all; for
what are the interests of our country, but the inconveniences of another state
or nation?--that is, to extend the boundaries which are violently taken from
others, to increase the power of the state, to improve the revenues,--all which
things are not virtues, but the overthrowing of virtues: for, in the first
place, the union of human society is taken away, innocence is taken away, the
abstaining from the property of another is taken away; lastly, justice itself is
taken away, which is unable to bear the tearing asunder of the human race, and
wherever arms have glittered, must be banished and exterminated from thence.
This saying of Cicero(3) is true: "But they who say that regard is to be had to
citizens, but that it is not to be had to foreigners, these destroy the common
society of the human race; and when this is removed, beneficence, liberality,
kindness, and justice are entirely(4) taken away." For how can a man be just who
injures, who hates, who despoils, who puts to death? And they who strive to be
serviceable to their country do all these things: for they are ignorant of what
this being serviceable is, who think nothing useful, nothing advantageous, but
that which can be held b the hand; and this alone cannot be held, because it
may be snatched away.
Whoever, then, has gained for his country these goods--as they themselves
call them--that is, who by the overthrow of cities and the destruction of
nations has filled the treasury with money, has taken lands and enriched his
country-men--he is extolled with praises to the heaven: in him there is said to be the
greatest and perfect virtue. And this is the error not only of the people and
the ignorant, but also of philosophers, who even give precepts for injustice,
test folly and wickedness should be wanting in discipline and authority.
Therefore, when they are speaking of the duties relating to warfare, all that
discourse is accommodated neither to justice nor to true virtue, but to this life and
to civil institutions;(5) and that this is not justice the matter itself
declares, and Cicero has testified.(6) "But we," he says, "are not in possession of
the real and life-like figure of true law and genuine justice, we have nothing
but delineations and sketches;(7) and I wish that we followed even these, for
they are taken from the excellent copies made by nature and truth." It is then a
delineation and a sketch which they thought to be justice. But what of wisdom?
does not the same man confess that it has no existence in philosophers "Nor,"
he says,(8) "when Fabricius or Aristides is called just, is an example of
justice sought from these as from a wise man; for none of these is wise in the sense
in which we wish the truly wise to be understood. Nor were they who are
esteemed and called wise, Marcus Cato and Caius Laelius, actually wise, nor those
well-known seven;(9) but from their constant practice of the 'middle duties,'(10)
they bore a certain likeness and appearance(11) of wise men." If therefore
wisdom is taken away from the philosophers by their own confession, and justice is
taken away from those who are regarded as just, it follows that all those
descriptions of virtue must be false, because no one can know what true virtue is but
he who is just and wise. But no one is just and wise but he whom God has
instructed with heavenly precepts.
CHAP. VII.--OF THE WAY OF ERROR AND OF TRUTH: THAT IT IS SINGLE, NARROW, AND
STEEP, AND HAS GOD FOR ITS GUIDE.
For all those who, by the confessed folly of others, are thought wise,
being clothed with the appearance of virtue, grasp at shadows and outlines, but at
nothing true. Which happens on this account, because that deceitful road
which; inclines to the west has many paths, on account of the variety of pursuits
and systems which are dissimilar and varied in the life of men. For as that way
of wisdom contains something which resembles folly, as we showed in the
preceding book, so this way, which belongs altogether to folly, contains something
which resembles wisdom, and they who perceive the folly of men in general seize
upon this; and as it has its vices manifest, so it has something which appears to
resemble virtue: as it has its wickedness open, so it has a likeness and
appearance of justice. For how could the forerunner(1) of that way, whose strength
and power are altogether in deceit, lead men altogether into fraud, unless he
showed them some things which resembled the truth?(2) For, that His immortal
secret might be hidden, God placed in his way things which men might despise as evil
and disgraceful, that, turning away from wisdom and truth, which they were
searching for without any guide, they might fall upon that very thing which they
desired to avoid and flee from. Therefore he points out that way of destruction
and death which has many windings, either because there are many kinds of life,
or because there are many gods who are worshipped.
The deceitful(3) and treacherous guide of this way, that there may appear
to be some distinction between truth and falsehood, good and evil, reads the
luxurious in one direction, and those who are called temperate(4) in another; the
ignorant in one direction, the learned in another; the sluggish in one
direction, the active in another; the foolish in one direction, the philosophers in
another, and even these not in one path. For those who do not shun pleasures or
riches, he withdraws a little from this public and frequented road; but those
who either wish to follow virtue, or profess a contempt for things, he drags over
certain rugged precipices. But nevertheless all those paths which display an
appearance of honours are not different roads, but turnings off(5) and bypaths,
which appear indeed to be separated from that common one. and to branch off to
the right, but yet return to the same, and all lead at the very end to one
issue. For that guide unites them all, where it was necessary that the good should
be separated from the bad, the strong from the inactive, the wise from the
foolish; namely, in the worship of the gods, in which he slays them all with one
sword, because they were all foolish without any distinction, and plunges them
into death. But this way--which is that of truth, and wisdom, and virtue, and
justice, of all which there is but one fountain, one source of strength, one
abode--is both simple,(6) because with like minds, and with the utmost agreement, we
follow and worship one God; and it is narrow, because virtue is given to the
smaller number; and steep, because goodness, which is very high and lofty,
cannot be attained to without the greatest difficulty and labour.
CHAP. VIII.--OF THE ERRORS OF PHILOSOPHERS, AND THE VARIABLENESS OF LAW.
This is the way which philosophers seek, but do not find on this account,
because they prefer to seek it on the earth, where it cannot appear. Therefore
they wander, as it were, on the great sea, and do not understand whither they
are borne, because they neither discern the way nor follow any guide. For this
way of life ought to be sought in the same manner in which their course is
sought by ships over the deep: for unless they observe some light of heaven, they
wander with uncertain courses. But whoever strives to hold the right course of
life ought not to look to the earth, but to the heaven: and, to speak more
plainly, he ought not to follow man, but God; not to serve these earthly images, but
the heavenly God; not to measure all things by their reference to the body, but
by their reference to the soul; not to attend to this life, but the eternal
life. Therefore, if you always direct your eyes towards heaven, and observe the
sun, where it rises, and take this as the guide of your life, as in the case of
a voyage, your feet will spontaneously be directed into the way; and that
heavenly light, which is a much brighter sun(7) to sound minds than this which we
behold in mortal flesh, will so rule and govern you as to lead you without any
error to the most excellent harbour of wisdom and virtue.
Therefore the law of God must be undertaken, which may direct us to this
path; that sacred, that heavenly law, which Marcus Tullius, in his third book
respecting the Republic,(8) has described almost with a divine voice; whose words
have subjoined, that I might not speak at greater length: "There is indeed a
true law, right reason, agreeing with nature, diffused among all, unchanging,
everlasting, which calls to duty by commanding, deters from wrong by forbidding;
which, however, neither commands nor forbids the good in vain, nor affects the
wicked by commanding or forbidding. It is not allowable to alter(1) the
provisions of this law, nor is it permitted us to modify it, nor can it be entirely
abrogated.(1) Nor, truly, can we be released from this law, either by the senate
or by the people; nor is another person to be sought to explain or interpret
it. Nor will there be one law at Rome and another at Athens; one law at the
present time, and another hereafter: but the same law, everlasting and unchangeable,
will bind all nations at all times; and there will be one common Master and
Ruler of all, even God, the framer, arbitrator, and proposer of this law; and he
who shall not obey this will flee from himself, and, despising the nature of
man, will suffer the greatest punishments through this very thing, even though he
shall have escaped the other punishments which are supposed to exist." Who
that is acquainted with the mystery of God could so significantly relate the law
of God, as a man far removed from the knowledge of the truth has set forth that
law? But I consider that they who speak true things unconsciously are to be so
regarded as though they prophesied(2) under the influence of some spirit. But
if he had known or explained this also, in what precepts the law itself
consisted, as he clearly saw the force and purport of the divine law, he would not have
discharged the office of a philosopher, but of a prophet. And because he was
unable to do this, it must be done by us, to whom the law itself has been
delivered by the one great Master and Ruler of all, God.
CHAP. IX.--OF THE LAW AND PRECEPT OF GOD; OF MERCY, AND THE ERROR OF THE
PHILOSOPHERS.
The first head of this law is, to know God Himself, to obey Him alone, to
worship Him alone. For he cannot maintain the character of a man who is
ignorant of God, the parent of his soul: which is the greatest impiety. For this
ignorance causes him to serve other gods, and no greater crime than this can be
committed. Hence there is now so easy a step to wickedness through ignorance of the
truth and of the chief good; since God, from the knowledge of whom he shrinks,
is Himself the fountain of goodness. Or if he shall wish to follow the justice
of God, yet, being ignorant of the divine law, he embraces the laws of his own
country as true justice, though they were clearly devised not by justice, but
by utility. For why is it that there are different and various laws amongst all
people, but that each nation has enacted for itself that which it deemed
useful for its own affairs? But how greatly utility differs from justice the Roman
people themselves teach, who, by proclaiming war through the Fecials, and by
inflicting injuries according to legal forms, by always desiring and carrying off
the property of other, have gained for themselves the possession of the whole
world.(3) But these persons think themselves just if they do nothing against
their own laws; which may be even ascribed to fear, if they abstain from crimes
through dread of present punishment. But let us grant that they do that
naturally, or, as the philosopher says, of their own accord, which they are compelled to
do by the laws. Will they therefore be just, because they obey the
institutions of men, who may themselves have erred, or have been unjust?--as it was with
the framers of the twelve tables, who certainly promoted the public advantage
according to the condition of the times. Civil law is one thing, which varies
everywhere according to customs; but justice is another thing, which God has set
forth to all as uniform and simple: and he who is ignorant of God must also be
ignorant of justice.
But let us suppose it possible that any one, by natural and innate
goodness, should gain true virtues, such a man as we have heard that Cimon was at
Athens, who both gave alms to the needy, and entertained the poor, and clothed the
naked; yet, when that one thing which is of the greatest importance is
wanting--the acknowledgment of God--then all those good things are superfluous and
empty, so that in pursuing them he has laboured in vain.(4) For all his justice
will resemble a human body which has no head, in which, although all the limbs are
in their proper position, and figure, and proportion, yet, since that is
wanting which is the chief thing of all, it is destitute both of life and of all
sensation. Therefore those limbs have only the shape of limbs, but admit of no
use, as much so as a head without a body; and he resembles this who is not without
the knowledge of God, but yet lives unjustly. For he has that only which is of
the greatest importance; but he has it to no purpose, since he is destitute of
the virtues, as it were, of limbs.
Therefore, that the body may be alive, and capable of sensation, both the
knowledge of God is necessary, as it were the head, and all the virtues, as it
were the body. Thus there will exist a perfect and living man; but, however,
the whole substance is in the head; and although this cannot exist in the absence
of all, it may exist in the absence of some. And it will be an imperfect and
faulty animal, but yet it will be alive, as he who knows God and yet sins in
some respect. For God pardons sins. And thus it is possible to live without some
of the limbs, but it is by no means possible to live without a head. This is the
reason why the philosophers, though they may be naturally good, yet have no
knowledge and no intelligence. All their learning and virtue is without a head,
because they are ignorant of God, who is the Head of virtue and knowledge; and
he who is ignorant of Him, though he may see, is blind; though he may hear, is
deaf; though he may speak, is dumb. But when he shall know the Creator and
Parent of all things, then he will both see, and hear, and speak. For he begins to
have a head, in which all the senses are placed, that is, the eyes, and ears,
and tongue. For assuredly he sees who has beheld with the eyes of his mind the
truth in which God is, or God in whom the truth is; he hears, who imprints on his
heart the divine words and life-giving precepts; he speaks, who, in discussing
heavenly things, relates the virtue and majesty of the surpassing God.
Therefore he is undoubtedly impious who does not acknowledge God; and all his virtues,
which he thinks that he has or possesses, are found in that deadly road which
belongs altogether to darkness. Wherefore there is no reason why any one should
congratulate himself if he has gained these empty virtues, because he is not
only wretched who is destitute of present goods, but he must also be foolish,
since he undertakes the greatest labours in his life without any purpose. For if
the hope of immortality is taken away, which God promises to those who continue
in His religion, for the sake of obtaining which virtue is to be sought, and
whatever evils happen are to be endured, it will assuredly be the greatest folly
to wish to comply with virtues which in vain bring calamities and labours to
man. For if it is virtue to endure and undergo with fortitude, want, exile,
pain, and death, which are feared by others, what goodness, I pray, has it in
itself, that philosophers should say that it is to be sought for on its own account?
Truly they are delighted with superfluous and useless punishments, when it is
permitted them to live in tranquillity.
For if our souls are mortal, if virtue is about to have no existence after
the dissolution of the body, why do we avoid the goods assigned to us, as
though we were ungrateful or unworthy of enjoying the divine gifts? For, that we
may enjoy these blessings, we must live in wickedness and impiety, because
virtue, that is, justice, is followed by poverty. Therefore he is not of sound mind,
who, without having any greater hope set before him, prefers labours, and
tortures, and miseries, to those goods which others enjoy in life.(1) But if virtue
is to be taken up, as is most rightly said by these, because it is evident that
man is born to it, it ought to contain some greater hope, which may apply a
great and illustrious solace for the ills and labours which it is the part of
virtue to endure. Nor can virtue, since it is difficult in itself, be esteemed as
a good in any other way than by having its hardship compensated by the greatest
good. We can in no other way equally abstain from these present goods, than if
there are other greater goods on account of which it is worth while to leave
the pursuit of pleasures, and to endure all evils. But these are no other, as I
have shown in the third book,(2) than the goods of everlasting life. Now who
can bestow these except God, who has proposed to us virtue itself? Therefore the
sum and substance of everything is contained in the acknowledging and worship
of God; all the hope and safety of man centres in this; this is the first step
of wisdom, to know who is our true Father, and to worship Him alone with the
piety which is due to Him, to obey Him, to yield ourselves to His service with the
utmost devotedness: let our entire acting, and care, and attention, be laid
out in gaining His favour.(3)
CHAP. X.--OF RELIGION TOWARDS GOD, AND MERCY TOWARDS MEN; AND OF THE BEGINNING
OF THE WORLD.
I have said what is due to God, I will now say what is to be given to man;
although this very thing which you shall give to man is given to God, for man
is the image of God. But, how ever, the first office of justice is to be united
with God, the second with man. But the former is called religion; the second
is named mercy or kindness;(4) which virtue is peculiar to the just, and to the
worshippers of God, because this alone comprises the principle of common life.
For God, who has not given wisdom to the other animals, has made them more safe
from attack in danger by natural defences. But because He made him naked and
defenceless,(5) that He might rather furnish him with wisdom, He gave him,
besides other things, this feeling of kindness;(6) so that man should protect, love,
and cherish man, and both receive and afford assistance against all dangers.
Therefore kindness is the greatest bond of human society; and he who has broken
this is to be deemed impious, and a parricide. For if we all derive our origin
from one man, whom God created, we are plainly of one blood; and therefore it
must be considered the greatest wickedness to hate a man, even though guilty. On
which account God has enjoined that enmities are never to be contracted by us,
but that they are always to be removed, so that we soothe those who are our
enemies, by reminding them of their relationship. Likewise, if we are all
inspired and animated by one God, what else are we than brothers? And, indeed, the
more closely united, because we are united in soul rather than in body.(1)
Accordingly Lucretius does not err when he says:(2) "In short, we are all sprung from
a heavenly seed; all have that same father." Therefore they are to be accounted
as savage beasts who injure man; who, in opposition to every law and right of
human nature, plunder, torture, slay, and banish.
On account of this relationship of brotherhood, God teaches us never to do
evil, but always good. And He also prescribes(3) in what this doing good
consists: in affording aid to those who are oppressed and in difficulty, and in
bestowing food on those who are destitute. For God, since He is kind,(4) wished us
to be a social animal. Therefore, in the case of other men, we ought to think
of ourselves. We do not deserve to be set free in our own dangers, if we do not
succour others; we do not deserve assistance, if we refuse to render it. There
are no precepts of philosophers to this purport, inasmuch as they, being
captivated by the appearance of false virtue, have taken away mercy from man, and
while they wish to heal, have corrupted.(5) And though they generally admit that
the mutual participation of human society is to be retained, they entirely
separate themselves from it by the harshness of their inhuman virtue. This error,
therefore, is also to be refuted, of those who think that nothing is to be
bestowed on any one. They have introduced not one origin only, and cause of building
a city; but some relate that those men who were first born from the earth, when
they passed a wandering life among the woods and plains, and were not united
by any mutual bond of speech or justice, but had leaves and grass for their
beds, and caves and grottos for their dwellings, were a prey to the beasts and
stronger animals. Then, that those who had either escaped, having been torn, or had
seen their neighbours torn, being admonished of their own danger, had recourse
to other men, implored protection, and at first made their wishes known by
nods; then that they tried the beginnings of conversation, and by attaching names
to each object, by degrees completed the system of speech. But when they saw
that numbers themselves were not safe against the beasts, they began also to
build towns, either that they might make their nightly repose safe, or that they
might ward off the incursions and attacks of beasts, not by fighting, but by
interposing barriers.(6)
O minds unworthy of men, which produced these foolish trifles! O wretched
and pitiable men, who committed to writing and handed down to memory the record
of their own foil),; who, when they saw that the plan of assembling themselves
together, or of mutual intercourse, or of avoiding danger, or of guarding
against evil, or of preparing for themselves sleeping-places and lairs, was natural
even to the dumb animals, thought, however, that men could not have been
admonished and learned, except by examples, what they ought to fear, what to avoid,
and what to do, or that they would never have assembled together, or have
discovered the method of speech, had not the beasts devoured them! These things
appeared to others senseless, as they really were; and they said that the cause of
their coming together was not the tearing of wild beasts, but rather the very
feeling of humanity itself; and that therefore they collected themselves
together, because the nature of men avoided solitude, and was desirous of communion
and society. The discrepancy between them is not great; since the causes are
different, the fact is the same. Each might have been true, because there is no
direct opposition. But, however, neither is by any means true, because men were
not born from the ground throughout the world, as though sprung from the teeth of
some dragon, as the poets relate; but one man was formed by God, and from that
one man all the earth was filled with the human race, in the same way as again
took place after the deluge, which they certainly cannot deny.(7) Therefore no
assembling together of this kind took place at the beginning; and that there
were never men on the earth who could not speak except those who were
infants,(8) every one who is possessed of sense will understand. Let us suppose, however,
that these things are true which idle and foolish old men vainly say, that we
may refute them especially by their own feelings and arguments.
If men were collected together on this account, that they might protect
their weakness by mutual help, therefore we must succour man, who needs help.
For, since men entered into and contracted fellowship with men for the sake of
protection, either to violate or not to preserve that compact which was entered
into among men from the commencement of their origin, is to be considered as the
greatest impiety. For he who withdraws himself from affording assistance must
also of necessity withdraw himself from receiving it; for he who refuses his aid
to another thinks that he stands in need of the aid of none. But he who
withdraws and separates himself from the body(1) at large, must live not after the
custom of men, but after the manner of wild beasts. But if this cannot be done,
the bond of human society is by all means to be retained, because man can in no
way live without man. But the preservation(2) of society is a mutual sharing of
kind offices; that is, the affording help, that we may be able to receive it.
But if, as those others assert, the assembling together of men has been caused
on account of humanity itself, man ought undoubtedly to recognise man. But if
those ignorant and as yet uncivilized men did this, and that, when the practice
of speaking was not yet established, what must we think ought to be done by men
who are polished, and connected together by interchange of conversation and
all business, who, being accustomed to the society of men, cannot endure solitude?
CHAP. XI.--OF THE PERSONS UPON WHOM A BENEFIT IS TO BE CONFERRED.
Therefore humanity is to be preserved, if we wish rightly to be called
men. But what else is this preservation of humanity than the loving a man because
he is a man, and the same as ourselves? Therefore discord and dissension are
not in accordance with the nature of man; and that expression of Cicero is true,
which says(3) that man, while he is obedient to nature, cannot injure man.
Therefore, if it is contrary to nature to injure a man, it must be in accordance
with nature to benefit a man; and he who does not do this deprives himself of the
title of a man, because it is the duty of humanity to succour the necessity
and peril of a man. I ask, therefore, of those who do not think it the part of a
wise man to be prevailed upon and to pity, If a man were seized by some beast,
and were to implore the aid of an armed man, whether they think that he ought
to be succoured or not? They are not so shameless as to deny that that ought to
be done which humanity demands and requires. Also, if any one were surrounded
by fire, crushed by the downfall of a building, plunged in the sea, or carried
away by a river, would they think it the duty of a man not to assist him? They
themselves are not men if they think so; for no one can fail to be liable to
dangers of this kind. Yes, truly, they will say that it is the part of a human
being, and of a brave man too, to preserve one who was on the point of perishing.
If, therefore, in casualties of this nature which imperil the life of man, they
allow that it is the part of humanity to give succour, what reason is there
why they should think that succour is to be withheld if a man should suffer from
hunger, thirst, or cold? But though these things are naturally on an equality
with those accidental circumstances, and need one and the same humanity, yet
they make a distinction between these things, because they measure all things not
by the truth itself, but by present utility. For they hope that those whom they
rescue from peril will make a return of the favour to them. But because they
do not hope for this in the case of the needy, they think that whatever they
bestow on men of this kind is thrown away. Hence that sentiment of Plantus is
detestable:(4)--
"He deserves ill who gives food to a beggar;
For that which he gives is thrown away, and
It lengthens out the life of the other to his misery."
But perhaps the poet spoke for the actor.(5)
What does Marcus Tullius say in his books respecting Offices? Does he not
also advise that bounty should not be employed at all? For thus he speaks:(6)
"Bounty, which proceeds from our estate, drains the very source of our
liberality; and thus liberality is destroyed by liberality: for the more numerous they
are towards whom you practise it, the less you will be able to practise it
towards many." And he also says shortly afterwards: "But what is more foolish than
so to act that you may not be able to continue to do that which you do
willingly?" This professor of wisdom plainly keeps men back from acts of kindness, and
advises them carefully to guard their property, and to preserve their
money-chest in safety, rather than to follow justice. And when he perceived that this was
inhuman and wicked, soon afterwards, in another chapter, as though moved by
repentance, he thus spoke: "Sometimes, however, we must exercise bounty in
giving: nor is this kind of liberality altogether to be rejected; and we must give
from our property to suitable(7) persons when they are in need of assistance."
What is the meaning of "suitable?" Assuredly those who are able to restore and
give back the favour.(1) If Cicero were now alive, I should certainly exclaim:
Here, here, Marcus Tullius, you have erred from true justice; and you have taken
it away by one word, since you measured the offices of piety and humanity by
utility. For we must not bestow our bounty on suitable objects, but as much as
possible on unsuitable objects. For that will be done with justice, piety, and
humanity, which you shall do without the hope of any return!
This is that true and genuine justice, of which you say that you have no
real and life-like figure.(2) You yourself exclaim in many places that virtue is
not mercenary; and you confess in the books of your Laws(3) that liberality is
gratuitous, in these words: "Nor is it doubtful that he who is called liberal
and generous is influenced by a sense of duty, and not by advantage." Why
therefore do you bestow your bounty on suitable persons, unless it be that you may
afterwards receive a reward? With you, therefore, as the author and teacher of
justice, whosoever shall not be a suitable person will be worn out with
nakedness, thirst, and hunger; nor will men who are rich and abundantly supplied, even
to luxuriousness, assist his last extremity. If virtue does not exact a reward;
if, as you say, it is to be sought on its own account, then estimate justice,
which is the mother and chief of the virtues, at its own price, and not
according to your advantage: give especially to him from whom you hope for nothing in
return. Why do you select persons? Why do you look at bodily forms? He is to be
esteemed by you as a man, whoever it is that implores you, because he
considers you a man. Cast away those outlines and sketches of justice, and hold fast
justice itself, true and fashioned to the life. Be bountiful to the blind, the
feeble, the lame, the destitute, who must die: unless you bestow your bounty upon
them. They are useless to men, but they are serviceable to God, who retains
them in life, who endues them with breath, who vouchsafes to them the light.
Cherish as far as in you lies, and support with kindness, the lives of men, that
they may not be extinguished. He who is able to succour one on the point of
perishing, if he fails to do so, kills him. But they, because they neither retain
their nature, nor know what reward there is in this, while they fear to lose, do
lose, and fall into that which they chiefly guard against; so that whatever
they bestow is either lost altogether, or profits only for the briefest time. For
they who refuse a small gift to the wretched, who wish to preserve humanity
without any loss to themselves, squander their property, so that they either
acquire for themselves frail and perishable things, or they certainly gain nothing
by their own great loss.
For what must be said of those who, induced by the vanity of popular
favour,(4) expend on the exhibition of shows wealth that would be sufficient even
for great cities? Must we not say that they are senseless and mad who bestow upon
the people that which is both lost to themselves, and which none of those on
whom it is bestowed receives? Therefore, as all pleasure is short and
perishable, and especially that of the eyes and ears, men either forget and are
ungrateful for the expenses incurred by another, or they are even offended if the
caprice of the people is not satisfied: so that most foolish men ,have even acquired
evil for themselves by evil; or if they have thus succeeded in pleasing, they
gain nothing more than empty favour and the talk(5) of a few days. Thus every
day the estates of most trifling men are expended on superfluous matters. Do they
then act more wisely who exhibit to their fellow-citizens more useful and
lasting gifts? They, for instance, who by the building of public works seek a
lasting memory for their name? Not even do they act rightly in burying their
property in the earth; because the remembrance of them neither bestows anything upon
the dead, nor are their works eternal, inasmuch as they are either thrown down
and destroyed by a single earthquake, or are consumed by an accidental fire, or
they are overthrough by some attack of an enemy, or at any rate they decay and
fall to pieces by mere length of time. For there is nothing, as the orator
says,(6) made by the work of man's hand which length of time does not weaken and
destroy. But this justice of which we speak, and mercy, flourish more every day.
They therefore act better who bestow their bounty on their tribesmen and
clients, for they bestow something on men. and profit them; but that is not true and
just bounty, for there is no conferring of a benefit where there is no
necessity. Therefore, whatever is given to those who are not in need, for the sake of
popularity, is thrown away; or it is repaid with interest, and thus it will not
be the conferring of a benefit. And although it is pleasing to those to whom it
is given, still it is not just, because if it is not done, no evil follows.
Therefore the only sure and true office of liberality is to support the needy and
unserviceable.
CHAP. XII.--OF THE KINDS OF BENEFICENCE, AND WORKS OF MERCY.
This is that perfect justice which protects human society, concerning
which philosophers speak. This is the chief and truest advantage of riches; not to
use wealth for the particular, pleasure of an individual, but for the welfare
of many; not for one's own immediate enjoyment, but for justice, which alone
does not perish. We must therefore by all means keep in mind, that the hope of
receiving in return must be altogether absent from the duty of showing mercy: for
the reward of this work and duty must be expected from God alone; for if you
should expect it from man, then that will not be kindness, but the lending of a
benefit at interest;(1) nor can he seem to have deserved well who affords that
which he does, not to another, but to himself. And yet the matter comes to this,
that whatever a man has bestowed upon another, hoping for no advantage from
him, he really bestows upon himself, for he will receive a reward from God. God
has also enjoined, that if at any time we make a feast, we should invite to the
entertainment those who cannot invite us in return, and thus make us a
recompense, so that no action of our life should be without the exercise of mercy. Nor,
however, let any one think that he is debarred from intercourse with his
friends or kindness with his neighbours. But God has made known to us what is our
true and just work: we ought thus to live with our neighbours, provided that we
know that the one manner of living relates to man, the other to God.(2)
Therefore hospitality is a principal virtue, as the philosophers also say;
but they turn it aside from true justice, and forcibly apply(3) it to
advantage. Cicero says:(4) "Hospitality was rightly praised by Theophrastus. For (as it
appears to me) it is highly becoming that the houses of illustrious men should
be open to illustrious guests." He has here committed the same error which he
then did, when he said that we must bestow our bounty on "suitable" persons.
For the house of a just and wise man ought not to be open to the illustrious, but
to the lowly and abject. For those illustrious and powerful men cannot be in
want of anything, since they are sufficiently protected and honoured by their
own opulence. But nothing is to be done by a just man except that which is a
benefit. But if the benefit is returned, it is destroyed and brought to an end;
for we cannot possess in its completeness that for which a price has been paid to
us. Therefore the principle of justice is employed about those benefits which
have remained safe and uncorrupted; but they cannot thus remain by any other
means than if they are be stowed upon those men who can in no way profit us. But
in receiving illustrious men, he looked to nothing else but utility; nor did
the ingenious man conceal what advantage he hoped from it. For he says that he
who does that will become powerful among foreigners by the favour of the leading
men, whom he will have bound to himself by the right of hospitality and
friendship. O by how many arguments might the inconsistency of Cicero be proved, if
this were my object! Nor would he be convicted so much by my words as by his own.
For he also says, that the more any one refers all his actions to his own
advantage, the less he is a good man. He also says, that it is not the part of a
simple and open man to ingratiate himself in the favour of others,(5) to pretend
and allege anything, to appear to be doing one thing when he is doing another,
to feign that he is bestowing upon another that which he is bestowing upon
himself; but that this is rather the part of one who is designing(6) and crafty,
deceitful and treacherous. But how could he maintain that that ambitious
hospitality was not evil intention?(7) "Do you run round through all the gates, that
you may invite to your house the chief men of the nations and cities as they
arrive, that by their means you may acquire influence with their citizens; and wish
yourself to be called just, and kind, and hospitable, though you are studying
to promote your own advantage?" But did he not say this rather incautiously?
For what is less suitable for Cicero? But through his ignorance of true justice
he knowingly and with foresight fell into this snare. And that he might be
pardoned for this, he testified that he does not give precepts with reference to
true justice, which he does not hold, but with reference to a sketch and outline
of justice. Therefore we must pardon this teacher who uses sketches and
outlines,(8) nor must we require the truth from him who admits that he is ignorant of
it.
The ransoming of captives is a great and noble exercise of justice, of
which the same Tullius also approved.(9) "And this liberality," he says, "is
serviceable even to the state, that captives should be ransomed from slavery, and
that those of slender resources should be provided for. And I greatly prefer this
practice of liberality to lavish expenditure on shows. This is the part of
great and eminent men." Therefore it is the appropriate work of the just to
support the poor and to ransom captives, since among the unjust if any do these
things they are called great and eminent. For it is deserving of the greatest praise
for those to confer benefit from whom no one expected such conduct. For he who
does good to a relative, or neighbour, or friend, either deserves no praise,
or certainly no great praise, because he is bound to do it, and he would be
impious and detestable if he did not do that which both nature itself and
relationship require; and if he does it, he does it not so much for the sake of
obtaining glory as of avoiding censure. But he who does it to a stranger and an unknown
person, he truly is worthy of praise, because he was led to do it by kindness
only. Justice therefore exists there, where there is no obligation of necessity
for conferring a benefit. He ought not therefore to have preferred this duty
of generosity to expenditure on shows; for this is the part of one making a
comparison, and of two goods choosing that which is the better. For that profusion
of men throwing away their property into the sea is vain and trifling, and very
far removed from all justice. Therefore they are not even to be called
girls,(1) in which no one receives but he who does not deserve to receive.
Nor is it less a great work of justice to protect and defend orphans and
widows who are destitute and stand in need of assistance; and therefore that
divine law prescribes this to all, since all good judges deem that it belongs to
their office to favour them with natural kindness, and to strive to benefit
them. But these works are especially ours, since we have received the law, and the
words of God Himself giving us instructions. For they perceive that it is
naturally just to protect those who need protection, but they do not perceive why it
is so. For God, to whom everlasting mercy belongs, on this account commands
that widows and orphans should be defended and cherished, that no one through
regard and pity for his pledges(2) should be prevented from undergoing death in
behalf of justice and faith, but should encounter it with promptitude and
boldness, since he knows that he leaves his beloved ones to the care of God, and that
they will never want protection. Also to undertake the care and support of the
sick, who need some one to assist them, is the part of the greatest kindness,
and of great beneficence;(3) and he who shall do this will both gain a living
sacrifice to God, and that which he has given to another for a time he will
himself receive from God for eternity. The last and greatest office of piety is the
burying of strangers and the poor; which subject those teachers of virtue and
justice have not touched upon at all. For they were unable to see this, who
measured all their duties by utility. For in the other things which have been
mentioned above, although they did not keep the true path, yet, since they
discovered some advantage in these things, retained as it were by a kind of inkling(4)
of the truth, they wandered to a less distance; but they abandoned this because
they were unable to see any advantage in it.
Moreover, there have not been wanting those who esteemed burial as
superfluous, and said that it was no evil to lie unburied and neglected; but their
impious wisdom is rejected alike by the whole human race, and by the divine
expressions which command the performance of the rite.(5) But they do not venture to
say that it ought not to be done, but that, if it happens to be omitted, no
inconvenience is the result. Therefore in that matter they discharge the office,
not so much of those who give precepts, as of those who suggest consolation,
that if this shall by chance have occurred to a wise man, he should not deem
himself wretched on this account. But we do not speak of that which ought to be
endured by a wise man, but of that which he himself ought to do. Therefore we do
not now inquire whether the whole system of burial is serviceable or not; but
this, even though it be useless, as they imagine, must nevertheless be practised,
even on this account only, that it appears among men to be done rightly and
kindly. For it is the feeling which is inquired into, and it is the purpose which
is weighed. Therefore we will not suffer the image and workmanship of God to
lie exposed as a prey to beasts and birds, but we will restore it to the earth,
from which it had its origin; and although it be in the case of an unknown man,
we will fulfil the office of relatives, into whose place, since they are
wanting, let kindness succeed; and wherever there shall be need of man, there we will
think that our duty is required.(6) But in what does the nature of justice
more consist than in our affording to strangers through kindness, that which we
render to our own relatives through affection? And this kindness is much more
sure and just when it is now afforded, not to the man who is insensible, but to
God alone, to whom a just work is a most acceptable sacrifice. Some one will
perhaps say: If I shall do all these things, I shall have no possessions. For what
if a great number of men shall be in want, shall suffer cold, shall be taken
captive, shall die, since one who acts thus must deprive himself of his property
even in a single day, shall I throw away the estate acquired by my own labour
or by that of my ancestors, so that after this I myself must live by the pity of
others?
Why do you so pusillanimously fear poverty, which even your philosophers
praise, and bear witness that nothing is safer and nothing more calm than this?
That which you fear is a haven against anxieties. Do you not know to how many
dangers, to how many accidents, you are exposed with these evil resources? These
will treat you well if they shall pass without your bloodshed. But you walk
about laden with booty, and you bear spoils which may excite the minds even of
your own relatives. Why, then, do you hesitate to lay that out well which perhaps
a single robbery will snatch away from you, or a proscription suddenly
arising, or the plundering of an enemy? Why do you fear to make a frail and perishable
good everlasting, or to entrust your treasures to God as their preserver, in
which case you need not fear thief and robber, nor rust, nor tyrant? He who is
rich towards God can never be poor.(1) If you esteem justice so highly, lay
aside the burthens which press you, and follow it; free yourself from fetters and
chains, that you may run to God without any impedient. It is the part of a great
and lofty mind to despise and trample upon mortal affairs. But if you do not
comprehend this virtue, that you may bestow your riches upon the altar(2) of
God, in order that you may provide for yourself firmer possessions than these
frail ones, I wiIl free you from fear. All these precepts are not given to you
alone, but to all the people who are united in mind, and hold together as one man.
If you are not adequate to the performance of great works alone, cultivate
justice with all your power, in such a manner, however, that you may excel
others in work as much as you excel them in riches. And do not think that you are
advised to lessen or exhaust your property; but that which you would have
expended on superfluities, turn to better uses. Devote to the ransoming of
captives that from which you purchase beasts; maintain the poor with that from which
you feed wild beasts; bury the innocent dead with that from which you provide
men for the sword.(3) What does it profit to enrich men of abandoned wickedness,
who fight with beasts,(4) and to equip them for crimes? Transfer things about
to be miserably thrown away to the great sacrifice, that in return for these
true gifts you may have an everlasting gift from God. Mercy has a great reward;
for God promises it, that He will remit all sins. If you shall hear, He says,
the prayers of your suppliant, I also will hear yours; if you shall pity those in
distress, I also will pity you in your distress. But if you shall not regard
nor assist them, I also will bear a mind like your own against you, and I will
judge you by your own laws.(5)