City of God, Book 7

Those who are endowed with quicker and better minds, for whom the earlier books are sufficient, and more than sufficient, to achieve their purpose, will have to bear with me patiently and calmly while I attempt with more than ordinary care to tear up and eradicate depraved and ancient opinions hostile to the truth of piety, which the long-standing error of the human race has fixed very deeply in unenlightened minds; cooperating in this, as far as my small ability allows, with the grace of Him who, being the true God, is able to accomplish it, and on whose help I depend in my work; and, for the sake of others, such readers should not consider superfluous what they feel is no longer necessary for themselves. A very great matter is at stake when the true and truly holy divinity is commended to men as what they ought to seek and worship; not, however, for the sake of the passing vapor of mortal life, but for the sake of eternal life, which alone is blessed, although the help necessary for this frail life we are now living is also given to us by it.

If there is anyone whom the sixth book, which I have just finished, has not persuaded that this divinity, or, so to speak, deity — for our authors do not hesitate to use this word too, in order to translate more accurately what the Greeks call θεότης — if there is anyone, I say, whom the sixth book has not persuaded that this divinity or deity is not to be found in that theology which they call civil, and which Marcus Varro has explained in sixteen books — that is, that the happiness of eternal life is not attainable through the worship of gods such as states have established for worship, and in such a form, — perhaps, when he has read this book, he will have nothing further to wish for in the clearing up of this question. For it is possible that someone may think that at least the select and chief gods, whom Varro included in his last book, and of whom we have not spoken sufficiently, are to be worshipped on account of the blessed life, which is none other than eternal. On this matter I do not say what Tertullian said, perhaps more wittily than truly, “If gods are selected like onions, certainly the rest are rejected as bad.” I do not say this, for I see that even from among the select, some are selected for some greater and more excellent office: as in warfare, when recruits have been chosen, some are chosen again from among them to perform some greater military service; and in the church, when persons are chosen to be overseers, certainly the rest are not rejected, since all good Christians are deservedly called elect; in putting up a building cornerstones are chosen, though the other stones, which are destined for other parts of the structure, are not rejected; grapes are chosen for eating, while the others, which we leave for drinking, are not rejected. There is no need to bring forward many illustrations, since the thing is evident. Therefore the selection of certain gods from among many gives no proper reason why either the man who wrote on this subject, or the worshippers of the gods, or the gods themselves, should be spurned. We ought rather to seek to know what gods these are, and for what purpose they appear to have been selected.

Varro, at any rate, singles out the following gods as select, devoting one book to this subject: Janus, Jupiter, Saturn, Genius, Mercury, Apollo, Mars, Vulcan, Neptune, Sol, Orcus, father Liber, Tellus, Ceres, Juno, Luna, Diana, Minerva, Venus, Vesta; of which twenty gods, twelve are males, and eight females. Are these deities called select because of their higher spheres of administration in the world, or because they have become better known to the people, and more worship has been given to them? If it is on account of the greater works which they perform in the world, we ought not to have found them among that plebeian crowd, so to speak, of deities to which the care of minute and trifling things has been assigned. For, first of all, at the conception of a fœtus, the point from which begin all the works that have been distributed in minute detail to many deities, Janus himself opens the way for the reception of the seed; Saturn is there too, on account of the seed itself; there is Liber, who liberates the male by the emission of the seed; there is Libera, whom they also identify with Venus, who confers this same benefit on the woman, namely, that she too is liberated by the emission of the seed — all these are among those who are called select. But there is also the goddess Mena, who presides over the menses; though the daughter of Jupiter, she is nevertheless lowborn. And this province of the menses the same author, in his book on the select gods, assigns to Juno herself, who is even queen among the select gods; and here, as Juno Lucina, along with the same Mena, her stepdaughter, she presides over the same blood. There are also two exceedingly obscure gods, Vitumnus and Sentinus — one of whom imparts life to the fœtus, and the other sensation; and truly, lowborn as they are, they bestow far more than all those noble and select gods bestow. For, surely, without life and sensation, what is the whole fœtus which a woman carries in her womb, but a most worthless and contemptible thing, no better than slime and dust?

What, then, is the cause that has driven so many select gods to these very small works, in which they are excelled by Vitumnus and Sentinus, though little known and sunk in obscurity, since these confer the generous gifts of life and sensation? For the select Janus bestows an entrance, and, as it were, a door for the seed; the select Saturn bestows the seed itself; the select Liber bestows on men the emission of the same seed; Libera, who is Ceres or Venus, confers the same on women; the select Juno confers (not alone, but together with Mena, the daughter of Jupiter) the menses, for the growth of that which has been conceived; and the obscure and lowborn Vitumnus confers life, while the obscure and lowborn Sentinus confers sensation — and these last two things are as much more excellent than the others as they themselves are excelled by reason and intellect. For as those things which reason and understand are preferable to those which, without intellect and reason, as in the case of cattle, live and feel; so also those things which have been endowed with life and sensation are deservedly preferred to those things which neither live nor feel. Therefore Vitumnus the life-giver, and Sentinus the sense-giver, ought to have been counted among the select gods, rather than Janus the admitter of seed, and Saturn the giver or sower of seed, and Liber and Libera the movers and liberators of seed; and that seed is not worth a thought unless it attains life and sensation. Yet these select gifts are not given by select gods, but by certain unknown, and, considering their dignity, neglected gods. But if the reply is that Janus has dominion over all beginnings, and therefore the opening of the way for conception is not without reason assigned to him; and that Saturn has dominion over all seeds, and therefore the sowing of the seed by which a human being is generated cannot be excluded from his activity; that Liber and Libera have power over the emission of all seeds, and therefore preside over those seeds which have to do with the procreation of men; that Juno presides over all purgations and births, and therefore she also has charge of the purgations of women and the births of human beings — if they give this reply, let them find an answer to the question about Vitumnus and Sentinus, whether they are willing for these likewise to have dominion over all things which live and feel. If they grant this, let them observe in how lofty a position they are about to place them. For to spring from seeds is in the earth and of the earth, but to live and feel are supposed to be properties even of the star gods. But if they say that only such things as come to life in flesh, and are supported by senses, are assigned to Sentinus, why does that God who makes all things live and feel not also bestow life and sensation on flesh, conferring this gift on fœtuses too in the universality of His working? And what, then, is the use of Vitumnus and Sentinus? But if these last and lowest things, so to speak, have been entrusted by Him who presides universally over life and sense to these gods as to servants, are these select gods then so short of servants that they could not find any to whom they in turn might entrust those things, but with all their dignity, for which they are, it seems, thought worthy to be selected, were compelled to do their work alongside lowborn ones? Juno is select queen of the gods, and the sister and wife of Jupiter; nevertheless she is Iterduca, the guide, to boys, and performs this work along with a most lowborn pair — the goddesses Abeona and Adeona. They have also placed there the goddess Mena, who gives to boys a good mind, and she is not placed among the select gods; as if anything greater could be bestowed on a man than a good mind. But Juno is placed among the select because she is Iterduca and Domiduca (she who conducts one on a journey, and who conducts him home again); as if it were of any advantage for someone to make a journey, and to be conducted home again, if his mind is not good. And yet the goddess who bestows that gift has not been placed by the selectors among the select gods, though she ought indeed to have been preferred even to Minerva, to whom, in this minute division of work, they have allotted the memory of boys. For who will doubt that it is a far better thing to have a good mind, than a memory however great? For no one is bad who has a good mind; but some who are very bad have an admirable memory, and are all the worse the less they are able to forget the bad things which they think. And yet Minerva is among the select gods, while the goddess Mena is hidden by a worthless crowd. What shall I say about Virtus? What about Felicitas?— of whom I have already said much in the fourth book. Though they held them to be goddesses, they have not seen fit to assign them a place among the select gods, among whom they have given a place to Mars and Orcus, the one the cause of death, the other the receiver of the dead. Since, therefore, we see that even the select gods themselves work together with the others, like a senate with the people, in all those minute works which have been minutely portioned out among many gods; and since we find that far greater and better things are administered by certain gods who have not been counted worthy to be selected than by those who are called select, it remains for us to suppose that they were called select and chief not because they hold more exalted offices in the world, but because they happened to become better known to the people. And even Varro himself says that obscurity had fallen in that way to the lot of some father gods and mother goddesses, as it falls to the lot of men. If, therefore, Felicity ought not perhaps to have been put among the select gods, because they did not attain to that noble position by merit, but by chance, Fortune at least should have been placed among them, or rather before them; for they say that that goddess distributes to everyone the gifts she receives, not according to any rational arrangement, but as chance determines. She ought to have held the uppermost place among the select gods, for it is chiefly among them that she shows what power she has. For we see that they have been selected not on account of some eminent virtue or rational happiness, but by that random power of Fortune which the worshippers of these gods think that she exerts. For that most eloquent man Sallust also may perhaps have the gods themselves in view when he says: “But, in truth, fortune rules in everything; it makes all things famous or obscure, according to whim rather than according to truth.” For they cannot discover a reason why Venus should have been made famous, while Virtus has been made obscure, when the divinity of both of them has been solemnly recognized by these people, and their merits are not to be compared. Again, if she has deserved a noble position because she is much sought after — for more people seek Venus than Virtus — why has Minerva been celebrated while Pecunia has been left in obscurity, although throughout the whole human race avarice allures a far greater number than skill? And even among those who are skilled in the arts, you will rarely find a man who does not practice his own art for the sake of financial gain; and the thing for whose sake something is made is always valued more than the thing made for the sake of something else. If, then, this selection of gods has been made by the judgment of the foolish multitude, why has the goddess Pecunia not been preferred to Minerva, since many are craftsmen for the sake of money? But if this distinction has been made by the few wise, why has Virtus been preferred to Venus, when reason by far prefers the former? At all events, as I have already said, Fortune herself — who, according to those who attribute most influence to her, makes all things famous or obscure according to whim rather than according to the truth— since she has been able to exercise so much power even over the gods as to make famous those of them she wished, and obscure those she wished, by her capricious judgment; Fortune herself ought to occupy the place of preeminence among the select gods, since she has such preeminent power over them too. Or must we suppose that the reason why she is not among the select is simply this, that even Fortune herself has had an adverse fortune? She was adverse, then, to herself, since, while ennobling others, she herself has remained obscure.

However, anyone who eagerly seeks fame and renown might congratulate those select gods and call them fortunate, if he did not see that they have been selected more to their injury than to their honor. For that low crowd of gods have been protected by their very lowliness and obscurity from being overwhelmed with infamy. We laugh, indeed, when we see them distributed by the mere fiction of human opinions, according to the special works assigned to them, like those who farm small portions of the public revenue, or like workmen in the street of the silversmiths, where one vessel, so that it may come out perfect, passes through the hands of many, when it could have been finished by one perfect workman. But the only reason why the combined skill of many workmen was thought necessary was that it is better that each part of an art should be learned by a special workman, which can be done speedily and easily, than that they should all be compelled to be perfect in one art throughout all its parts, which they could only attain slowly and with difficulty. Nevertheless, scarcely one of the non-select gods can be found who has brought infamy on himself by any crime, while there is scarcely one of the select gods who has not received the brand of notable infamy. These latter have descended to the humble works of the others, while the others have not risen to their lofty crimes. About Janus, nothing infamous readily comes to my mind; and perhaps he was one who lived more innocently than the rest, and farther removed from misdeeds and crimes. He kindly received and entertained Saturn when he was fleeing; he divided his kingdom with his guest, so that each of them had a city for himself, the one Janiculum, and the other Saturnia. But those seekers after every kind of indecency in the worship of the gods have disgraced him, whose life they found to be less disgraceful than that of the other gods, with an image of monstrous deformity, making it sometimes with two faces, and sometimes, as it were, double, with four faces. Did they wish that, since most of the select gods had lost face by committing shameful crimes, his greater innocence should be marked by a greater number of faces?

But let us hear their own physical interpretations by which they attempt to disguise the shamefulness of a most wretched error, as if with the appearance of deeper doctrine. Varro, in the first place, commends these interpretations so strongly as to say that the ancients invented the images, emblems, and adornments of the gods so that when those who went to the mysteries saw them with their bodily eyes, they might see with the eyes of their mind the soul of the world, and its parts, that is, the true gods; and also that the meaning which was intended by those who made their images in human form, seemed to be this — namely, that the mind of mortals, which is in a human body, is very like the immortal mind, just as vessels might be placed to represent the gods, as, for instance, a wine-vessel might be placed in the temple of Liber, to signify wine, the thing contained being signified by the thing that contains it. Thus by an image which had the human form the rational soul was signified, because the human form is the vessel, as it were, in which is usually contained that nature which they attribute to God, or to the gods. These are the mysteries of doctrine to which that most learned man penetrated in order to bring them out into the light. But, most acute of men, have you lost among those mysteries the good sense that led you to form the sober opinion that those who first established those images for the people took away fear from the citizens and added error, and that the ancient Romans honored the gods more chastely without images? For it was by considering them that you grew bold enough to say these things against the later Romans. For if those most ancient Romans had also worshipped images, perhaps you would have suppressed by the silence of fear all those views (true views, nevertheless) about the folly of setting up images, and would have extolled more loftily, and at greater length, those mysterious doctrines consisting of these vain and pernicious fictions. Your soul, so learned and so clever (and for this I grieve deeply for you), could never through these mysteries have reached its God; that is, the God by whom, not with whom, it was made, of whom it is not a part, but a work — that God who is not the soul of all things, but who made every soul, and in whose light alone every soul is blessed, if it is not ungrateful for His grace. But the things which follow in this book will show what the nature of these mysteries is, and what value is to be placed on them. Meanwhile, this most learned man confesses as his opinion that the soul of the world and its parts are the true gods, from which we perceive that his theology (namely, that same natural theology which he regards so highly) has been able, at its fullest, to reach as far as the nature of the rational soul. For in this book (on the select gods) he says a very few things in advance about the natural theology; and we shall see whether he has been able in that book, by means of physical interpretations, to connect to this natural theology the civil theology, about which he wrote last when treating of the select gods. Now, if he has been able to do this, the whole is natural; and in that case, what need was there to distinguish so carefully the civil from the natural? But if it has been distinguished by a real distinction, then, since not even this natural theology with which he is so much pleased is true (for though it has reached as far as the soul, it has not reached the true God who made the soul), how much more contemptible and false is that civil theology which is chiefly occupied with what is corporeal, as will be shown by its very interpretations, which they have so diligently sought out and unraveled, and some of which I must mention!

The same Varro, then, still speaking in advance, says that he thinks that God is the soul of the world (which the Greeks call κόσμος), and that this world itself is God; but as a wise man, though he consists of body and mind, is nevertheless called wise on account of his mind, so the world is called God on account of mind, although it consists of mind and body. Here he seems, in some fashion at least, to acknowledge one God; but so that he may introduce more, he adds that the world is divided into two parts, heaven and earth, each of which is again divided into two parts, heaven into ether and air, earth into water and land, of all of which the ether is the highest, the air second, the water third, and the earth the lowest. All these four parts, he says, are full of souls; those which are in the ether and air being immortal, and those which are in the water and on the earth mortal. From the highest part of the heavens to the orbit of the moon there are souls, namely, the stars and planets; and these are not only understood to be gods, but are seen to be such. And between the orbit of the moon and the beginning of the region of clouds and winds there are aerial souls; but these are seen with the mind, not with the eyes, and are called Heroes, and Lares, and Genii. This is the natural theology which is briefly set forth in these preliminary statements, and which satisfied not only Varro, but many other philosophers. I must discuss this more carefully when, with the help of God, I have completed what I still have to say about the civil theology, as far as it concerns the select gods.

Who, then, is Janus, with whom Varro begins? He is the world. That is certainly a very brief and unambiguous reply. Why, then, do they say that the beginnings of things belong to him, but the ends to another whom they call Terminus? For they say that two months have been dedicated to these two gods, with reference to beginnings and ends — January to Janus, and February to Terminus — over and above those ten months which begin with March and end with December. And they say that that is the reason why the Terminalia are celebrated in the month of February, the same month in which the sacred purification is made which they call Februum, and from which the month derives its name. Do the beginnings of things, therefore, belong to the world, which is Janus, and not also the ends, since another god has been placed over them? Do they not admit that all things which they say begin in this world also come to an end in this world? What folly it is to give him only half the power in his work, when in his image they give him two faces! Would it not be a far more elegant way of interpreting the two-faced image, to say that Janus and Terminus are the same, and that the one face has reference to beginnings, the other to ends? For anyone who works ought to keep both in view. For whoever, in each exertion of activity, does not look back on the beginning does not look forward to the end. Therefore forward-looking intention must be joined to backward-looking memory. For how will anyone find a way to finish anything if he has forgotten what it was that he had begun? But if they thought that the blessed life is begun in this world, and perfected beyond the world, and for that reason attributed to Janus, that is, to the world, only the power of beginnings, they should certainly have preferred Terminus to him, and should not have shut him out from among the select gods. Yet even now, when the beginnings and ends of temporal things are represented by these two gods, more honor ought to have been given to Terminus. For the greater joy is the one felt when something is finished; but things begun are always a cause of much anxiety until they are brought to an end, and whoever begins anything longs greatly for that end, fixes his mind on it, expects it, desires it; nor does anyone ever rejoice over anything he has begun unless it is brought to an end.

But now let the interpretation of the two-faced image be produced. For they say that it has two faces, one in front and one behind, because our gaping mouths seem to resemble the world: this is why the Greeks call the palate οὐρανός, and some Latin poets, he says, have called the heavens palatum [the palate]; and from the gaping mouth, they say, there is a way out toward the teeth, and a way in toward the throat. See what the world has been brought to on account of a Greek or a poetic word for our palate! Let this god be worshipped only on account of saliva, which has two open doorways under the heavens of the palate — one through which part of it may be spat out, the other through which part of it may be swallowed. Besides, what is more absurd than not to find in the world itself two doorways opposite to each other, through which it may either receive anything into itself, or cast it out from itself, and yet to ask our mouth and throat, which the world does not resemble, to make up an image of the world in Janus, because the world is said to resemble the palate, to which Janus bears no likeness? But when they make him four-faced, and call him double Janus, they interpret this as referring to the four quarters of the world, as though the world looked out on anything, like Janus through his four faces. Again, if Janus is the world, and the world consists of four quarters, then the image of the two-faced Janus is false. Or if it is true, because the whole world is sometimes understood by the expression east and west, will anyone call the world double when north and south are also mentioned, as they call Janus double when he has four faces? They have no way at all of interpreting, in relation to the world, four doorways by which to go in and to come out as they did in the case of the two-faced Janus, where they found, at any rate in the human mouth, something which corresponded to what they said about him; unless perhaps Neptune comes to their aid, and hand them a fish, which, besides the mouth and gullet, has also the openings of the gills, one on each side. Nevertheless, with all the doors, no soul escapes this vanity except the one that hears the truth saying, “I am the door.” John 10:9

But they also explain who they want Jove (who is also called Jupiter) to be understood to be. He is the god, they say, who has the power of the causes by which anything comes to be in the world. And how great a thing this is, that most noble verse of Virgil testifies: “Happy is he who has learned the causes of things.” But why is Janus preferred to him? Let that most acute and most learned man answer us this question. “Because,” he says, “Janus has dominion over first things, Jupiter over highest things. Therefore Jupiter is deservedly held to be the king of all things; for highest things are better than first things: for although first things precede in time, highest things excel in dignity.” Now this would have been rightly said if the first parts of things that are done had been distinguished from the highest parts; as, for instance, to set out is the beginning of an action, to arrive its highest part. To begin to learn is the first part of an undertaking, to acquire knowledge is the highest part. And so with all things: the beginnings are first, the ends highest. This matter, however, has already been discussed in connection with Janus and Terminus. But the causes which are attributed to Jupiter are things that produce, not things produced; and it is impossible for them to be preceded in time by things which are made or done, or by the beginnings of such things; for the thing which makes is always prior to the thing which is made. Therefore, though the beginnings of things which are made or done belong to Janus, they are nevertheless not prior to the efficient causes which they attribute to Jupiter. For as nothing takes place without being preceded by an efficient cause, so without an efficient cause nothing begins to take place. Truly, if the people give the name Jupiter to this god, in whose power are all the causes of all natures which have been made, and of all natural things, and worship him with such insults and infamous accusations, they are guilty of a more shocking sacrilege than if they denied the existence of any god at all. It would therefore be better for them to call some other god by the name of Jupiter — someone worthy of shameful and criminal honors; substituting for Jupiter some empty fiction (as Saturn is said to have had a stone given to him to devour instead of his son,) which they might make the subject of their blasphemies, rather than to speak of that god as both thundering and committing adultery — ruling the whole world, and giving himself over to committing so many licentious acts — having in his power nature and the highest causes of all natural things, but not having his own causes good. Next, I ask what place they find any longer for this Jupiter among the gods, if Janus is the world; for Varro defined the true gods to be the soul of the world, and the parts of it. And therefore whatever does not fall within this definition, is certainly not a true god, according to them. Will they then say that Jupiter is the soul of the world, and Janus the body — that is, this visible world? If they say this, it will not be possible for them to affirm that Janus is a god. For even according to them, the body of the world is not a god, but the soul of the world and its parts. Therefore Varro, seeing this, says that he thinks God is the soul of the world, and that this world itself is God; but that as a wise man though he consists of soul and body, is nevertheless called wise because of the soul, so the world is called God because of the soul, though it consists of soul and body. Therefore the body of the world alone is not God, but either the soul of it alone, or the soul and the body together, yet in such a way that it is God not by virtue of the body, but by virtue of the soul. If, therefore, Janus is the world, and Janus is a god, will they say, so that Jupiter may be a god, that he is some part of Janus? For they usually attribute the whole of existence to Jupiter instead; from this comes the saying, “All things are full of Jupiter.” Therefore, so that Jupiter may be a god, and especially king of the gods, they must think that he too is the world, so that he may rule over the other gods — according to them, his parts. To this effect the same Varro also explains certain verses of Valerius Soranus in that book which he wrote separately from the others on the worship of the gods. These are the verses: Almighty Jove, progenitor of kings, and things, and gods, / And also the mother of the gods, god one and all. But in the same book he explains these verses by saying that as the male emits seed, and the female receives it, so Jupiter, whom they believed to be the world, both emits all seeds from himself and receives them into himself. For this reason, he says, Soranus wrote, “Jove, progenitor and mother;” and with no less reason said that one and all were the same. For the world is one, and in that one are all things.

Since, therefore, Janus is the world, and Jupiter is the world, why are Janus and Jupiter two gods, while the world is only one? Why do they have separate temples, separate altars, different rites, dissimilar images? If it is because the nature of beginnings is one, and the nature of causes another, and the one has received the name of Janus, the other of Jupiter; is it then the case that, if one man holds two distinct offices of authority, or has two skills, people speak of two judges or two craftsmen, because the nature of the offices or the arts is different? So also with respect to one god: if he has the power of beginnings and of causes, must he therefore be thought to be two gods, because beginnings and causes are two things? But if they think that this is right, let them also affirm that Jupiter is as many gods as they have given him surnames, on account of many powers; for the things from which these surnames are applied to him are many and diverse. I shall mention a few of them.

They have called him Victor, Invictus, Opitulus, Impulsor, Stator, Centumpeda, Supinalis, Tigillus, Almus, Ruminus, and other names which it would take long to list. But these surnames they have given to one god on account of diverse causes and powers, and yet they have not compelled him to be as many gods as there are things. They gave him these surnames because he conquered all things; because he was conquered by none; because he brought help to the needy; because he had the power of impelling, stopping, establishing, throwing on the back; because as a beam he held together and sustained the world; because he nourished all things; because, like the breast, he nourished animals. Here, we perceive, are some great things and some small things; and yet it is one who is said to perform them all. I think that the causes and the beginnings of things, on account of which they have thought that the one world is two gods, Jupiter and Janus, are nearer to each other than the holding together of the world, and the giving of the breast to animals; and yet, on account of these two works so far apart from each other, both in nature and dignity, there has been no need for two gods to exist; but one Jupiter has been called Tigillus on account of the one, and Ruminus on account of the other. I am unwilling to say that giving the breast to suckling animals might have suited Juno better than Jupiter, especially when there was the goddess Rumina to help and to serve her in this work; for I think it may be replied that Juno herself is nothing else than Jupiter, according to those verses of Valerius Soranus, where it has been said: Almighty Jove, progenitor of kings, and things, and gods, / And also the mother of the gods, etc. Why, then, was he called Ruminus, when those who perhaps inquire more carefully may find that he is also that goddess Rumina? If, then, it was rightly thought unworthy of the majesty of the gods, that in one ear of grain one god should have the care of the joint, another that of the husk, how much more unworthy of that majesty is it, that one thing, and one of the lowest kind, namely giving the breast to animals so that they may be nourished, should be under the care of two gods, one of whom is Jupiter himself, the very king of all things, who does this not along with his own wife, but with some lowborn Rumina (unless perhaps he himself is Rumina, being Ruminus for males and Rumina for females)! I would certainly have said that they had been unwilling to give Jupiter a feminine name, if he had not been called in these verses “progenitor and mother,” and if I had not read among other surnames of his that of Pecunia [money], which we found as a goddess among those petty deities, as I have already mentioned in the fourth book. But since both males and females have money [pecuniam], why has he not been called both Pecunius and Pecunia? That is their concern.

How elegantly they have accounted for this name! “He is also called Pecunia,” they say, “because all things belong to him.” Oh how grand an explanation of the name of a deity! Yes; he to whom all things belong is most pettily and most insultingly called Pecunia. In comparison with all things which are contained by heaven and earth, what are all things together which are possessed by men under the name of money? And avarice, no doubt, has given this name to Jupiter, so that whoever was a lover of money might seem to himself to love not an ordinary god, but the very king of all things himself. But it would be a far different thing if he had been called Riches. For riches are one thing, money another. For we call rich the wise, the just, the good, who have either no money or very little. For they are more truly rich in possessing virtue, since by it, even in regard to things necessary for the body, they are content with what they have. But we call the greedy poor, who are always craving and always wanting. For they may possess any amount of money; but however abundant it is, they cannot help being in want. And we properly call God Himself rich; not, however, in money, but in omnipotence. Therefore those who have plenty of money are called rich, but inwardly needy if they are greedy. So also, those who have no money are called poor, but inwardly rich if they are wise. What, then, ought the wise man to think of this theology, in which the king of the gods receives the name of that thing “which no wise man has desired?” For if this philosophy had taught anything wholesome about eternal life, how much more appropriately would that god who is the ruler of the world have been called by them, not money, but wisdom, the love of which cleanses us from the filth of avarice, that is, of the love of money!

But why speak more of this Jupiter, with whom perhaps all the rest are to be identified; so that, since he is all of them, the belief in the existence of many gods is left as a mere opinion, empty of all truth? And they are all to be referred to him, if his various parts and powers are thought of as so many gods, or if the principle of mind which they think is diffused through all things has received the names of many gods from the various parts which the mass of this visible world combines in itself, and from the manifold administration of nature. For what is Saturn also? “One of the principal gods,” he says, “who has dominion over all sowings.” Does not the exposition of the verses of Valerius Soranus teach that Jupiter is the world, and that he emits all seeds from himself, and receives them into himself? It is he, then, who has dominion over all sowings. What is Genius? “He is the god who is set over, and has the power of begetting, all things.” What else but the world do they believe has this power, to which it has been said: “Almighty Jove, progenitor and mother?” And when in another place he says that Genius is the rational soul of everyone, and therefore exists separately in each individual, but that the corresponding soul of the world is God, he simply comes back to this same thing — namely, that the soul of the world itself is to be held to be, as it were, the universal genius. This, therefore, is what he calls Jupiter. For if every genius is a god, and the soul of every man a genius, it follows that the soul of every man is a god. But if sheer absurdity compels even these theologians themselves to shrink from this, it remains that they call that genius god by special and preeminent distinction, whom they call the soul of the world, and therefore Jupiter.

But they have found no way to connect Mercury and Mars with any parts of the world, and to the works of God which are in the elements; and therefore they have set them at least over human works, making them assistants in speaking and in carrying on wars. Now if Mercury also has power over the speech of the gods, he rules over the king of the gods himself, if Jupiter, receiving the faculty of speech from him, speaks only as Mercury is pleased to permit — which surely is absurd; but if it is only the power over human speech which is held to be attributed to him, then we say it is incredible that Jupiter should have stooped to give the breast not only to children, but also to beasts — from which he has been surnamed Ruminus — and yet should have been unwilling for the care of our speech, by which we excel the beasts, to belong to him. And thus speech itself both belongs to Jupiter, and is Mercury. But if speech itself is said to be Mercury, as the things said about him by way of interpretation show it to be — for he is said to have been called Mercury, that is, he who runs between, because speech runs between men: they also say that the Greeks call him ῾Ερμῆς, because speech, or interpretation, which certainly belongs to speech, is called by them ἑρμηνεία: he is also said to preside over trade, because speech passes between sellers and buyers: the wings, too, which he has on his head and on his feet, they say mean that speech passes winged through the air: he is also said to have been called the messenger, because by means of speech all our thoughts are expressed; — if, therefore, speech itself is Mercury, then, even by their own confession, he is not a god. But when they make gods for themselves out of things that are not even demons, by praying to unclean spirits they come to be possessed by beings that are not gods, but demons. In the same way, because they have not been able to find for Mars any element or part of the world in which he might perform some works of nature of whatever kind, they have said that he is the god of war, which is a work of men, and not one that they consider desirable. If, therefore, Felicitas gave perpetual peace, Mars would have nothing to do. But if war itself is Mars, as speech is Mercury, I wish it were as true that there were no war to be falsely called a god, as it is true that it is not a god.

But perhaps these stars which have been called by their names are these gods. For they call a certain star Mercury, and likewise a certain other star Mars. But among those stars which are called by the names of gods, is the one they call Jupiter, and yet for them Jupiter is the world. There too is the one they call Saturn, and yet they give him no small domain besides — namely, all seeds. There too is the brightest of them all, which they call Venus, and yet they insist that this same Venus is also the moon:— not to mention how Venus and Juno are said by them to compete for that most brilliant star, as though about another golden apple. For some say that Lucifer belongs to Venus, and some to Juno. But, as usual, Venus conquers. For by far the greatest number assign that star to Venus, so much so that scarcely one of them can be found who thinks otherwise. But since they call Jupiter the king of all, who will not laugh to see his star so far surpassed in brilliance by the star of Venus? For it ought to have been as much more brilliant than the rest as he himself is more powerful. They answer that it only appears so because it is higher up, and very much farther away from the earth. If, therefore, its greater dignity has deserved a higher place, why is Saturn higher in the heavens than Jupiter? Was the vanity of the fable which made Jupiter king not able to reach the stars? And has Saturn been permitted to obtain at least in the heavens what he could not obtain in his own kingdom nor in the Capitol? But why has Janus received no star? If it is because he is the world, and they are all in him, the world is also Jupiter's, and yet he has one. Did Janus settle his case as best he could, and instead of the one star which he does not have among the heavenly bodies, accept so many faces on earth? Again, if they think that on account of the stars alone Mercury and Mars are parts of the world, so that they may be able to have them as gods, since speech and war are not parts of the world, but acts of men, how is it that they have made no altars, established no rites, built no temples for Aries, and Taurus, and Cancer, and Scorpio, and the rest which they count as the celestial signs, and which consist not of single stars, but each of them of many stars, and which, they say, are situated above those already mentioned in the highest part of the heavens, where a more constant motion causes the stars to follow an undeviating course? And why have they not counted them as gods, I do not say among those select gods, but not even among those, as it were, plebeian gods?

Although they hold Apollo to be a diviner and physician, they have nevertheless given him a place as some part of the world. They have said that he is also the sun; and likewise they have said that Diana, his sister, is the moon, and the guardian of roads. For this reason they also insist that she is a virgin, because a road brings forth nothing. They also make both of them have arrows, because those two planets send their rays from the heavens to the earth. They make Vulcan the fire of the world; Neptune the waters of the world; Father Dis, that is, Orcus, the earthy and lowest part of the world. Liber and Ceres they set over seeds — the former over the seeds of males, the latter over the seeds of females; or the one over the fluid part of seed, but the other over the dry part. And all this together is referred to the world, that is, to Jupiter, who is called “progenitor and mother,” because he emitted all seeds from himself, and received them into himself. For they also make this same Ceres the Great Mother, who they say is none other than the earth, and they also call her Juno. And therefore they assign to her the second causes of things, even though it has been said to Jupiter, “progenitor and mother of the gods;” because, according to them, the whole world itself is Jupiter's. Minerva, also, because they set her over human arts, and did not find even a star in which to place her, has been said by them to be either the highest ether, or even the moon. Vesta herself they have also thought to be the highest of the goddesses, because she is the earth; although they have thought that the milder fire of the world, which is used for the ordinary purposes of human life, not the more violent fire, such as belongs to Vulcan, is to be assigned to her. And so they insist that all those select gods are the world and its parts — some of them the whole world, others of them its parts; the whole of it Jupiter — its parts, Genius, Mater Magna, Sol and Luna, or rather Apollo and Diana, and so on. And sometimes they make one god many things; sometimes one thing many gods. Many things are one god in the case of Jupiter; for both the whole world is Jupiter, and the sky alone is Jupiter, and the star alone is said and held to be Jupiter. Juno also is mistress of second causes, — Juno is the air, Juno is the earth; and if she had won it from Venus, Juno would have been the star. Likewise Minerva is the highest ether, and Minerva is likewise the moon, which they suppose to be in the lowest limit of the ether. And they also make one thing many gods in this way. The world is both Janus and Jupiter; also the earth is Juno, and Mater Magna, and Ceres.

And what is true of the things I have mentioned as examples is true of all the rest. They do not explain them, but rather entangle them. They rush here and there, to this side or to that, as they are driven by the impulse of erratic opinion; so that even Varro himself has chosen to doubt everything rather than to affirm anything. For, having written the first of the last three books about the certain gods, and having begun in the second of these to speak of the uncertain gods, he says: “I ought not to be censured for having stated in this book the doubtful opinions about the gods. For anyone who, when he has read them, thinks that they both ought to be and can be conclusively decided will do so himself. For my own part, I can be more easily led to doubt the things which I have written in the first book, than to attempt to reduce all the things I shall write in this one to any orderly system.” Thus he makes uncertain not only that book about the uncertain gods, but also the other one about the certain gods. Moreover, in that third book about the select gods, after having set out in advance as much of the natural theology as he thought necessary, and when about to begin speaking of the vanities and lying insanities of the civil theology, where he was not only without the guidance of the truth of things, but was also pressed by the authority of tradition, he says: “I will write in this book about the public gods of the Roman people, to whom they have dedicated temples, and whom they have conspicuously marked out with many adornments; but, as Xenophon of Colophon writes, I will state what I think, not what I am prepared to maintain: it is for man to think those things, for God to know them.” It is not, then, an account of things comprehended and most certainly believed which he promised, when about to write those things which were instituted by men. He only timidly promises an account of things which are only the subject of doubtful opinion. Nor, indeed, was it possible for him to affirm with the same certainty that Janus was the world, and other such things; or to discover with the same certainty such things as how Jupiter was the son of Saturn, while Saturn was made subject to him as king:— he could, I say, neither affirm nor discover such things with the same certainty with which he knew such things as that the world existed, that the heavens and earth existed, the heavens bright with stars, and the earth fertile through seeds; or with the same perfect conviction with which he believed that this whole mass of nature is governed and administered by a certain invisible and mighty force.

A far more credible account of these gods is given, when it is said that they were men, and that sacred rites and solemn festivals were instituted for each one of them, according to his particular character, habits, actions, and circumstances; and these rites and festivals, by gradually creeping through the souls of men, which are like demons, and eager for things that give them amusement, were spread far and wide; with the poets adorning them with lies, and false spirits seducing men to accept them. For it is far more likely that some youth, either impious himself, or afraid of being killed by an impious father, wanted to reign and dethroned his father, than that (according to Varro's interpretation) Saturn was overthrown by his son Jupiter: for cause, which belongs to Jupiter, comes before seed, which belongs to Saturn. For if this had been so, Saturn would never have come before Jupiter, nor would he have been the father of Jupiter. For cause always precedes seed, and is never generated from seed. But when they try to dignify the most empty fables or the deeds of men with natural interpretations, even the most acute men are so perplexed that we are compelled to grieve for their folly also.

They said, says Varro, that Saturn used to devour all that sprang from him, because seeds returned to the earth from where they sprang. And when it is said that a lump of earth was put before Saturn to be devoured instead of Jupiter, it is signified, he says, that before the art of plowing was discovered, seeds were buried in the earth by the hands of men. The earth itself, then, and not seeds, should have been called Saturn, because in a sense it devours what it has brought forth, when the seeds which have sprung from it return into it again. And what does Saturn's receiving a lump of earth instead of Jupiter have to do with the fact that the seeds were covered in the soil by the hands of men? Was the seed kept from being devoured, like other things, by being covered with the soil? For what they say would imply that the one who put the soil on took the seed away, as Jupiter is said to have been taken away when the lump of soil was offered to Saturn instead of him, and not rather that the soil, by covering the seed, only caused it to be devoured the more eagerly. Then, in that way, Jupiter is the seed, and not the cause of the seed, as was said a little before. But what are men to do who cannot find anything wise to say, because they are interpreting foolish things? Saturn has a pruning knife. That, says Varro, is on account of agriculture. Certainly in Saturn's reign no agriculture yet existed, and that is why his times are spoken of as the earliest, because, as the same Varro interprets the fables, the primeval men lived on those seeds which the earth produced spontaneously. Perhaps he received a pruning knife when he had lost his scepter, so that he who had been a king, and had lived at ease during the first part of his time, would become a hardworking laborer while his son occupied the throne. Then he says that boys used to be sacrificed to him by certain peoples, the Carthaginians for instance; and also that adults were sacrificed by some nations, for example the Gauls — because, of all seeds, the human race is the best. What more need we say about this most cruel folly? Let us rather note and hold to this: that these interpretations are not carried up to the true God — a living, incorporeal, unchangeable nature, from whom a blessed life enduring forever may be obtained — but that they end in things which are corporeal, temporal, mutable, and mortal. And when it is said in the fables that Saturn castrated his father Cœlus, this signifies, says Varro, that the divine seed belongs to Saturn, and not to Cœlus; for this reason, as far as a reason can be discovered, namely, that in heaven nothing is born from seed. But, lo! Saturn, if he is the son of Cœlus, is the son of Jupiter. For they affirm countless times, and emphatically, that the heavens are Jupiter. In this way things that do not come from the truth very often overthrow one another by themselves, without anyone pushing them. He says that Saturn was called Κρονος, which in Greek signifies a space of time, because, without that, seed cannot be productive. These and many other things are said about Saturn, and they are all referred to seed. But Saturn surely, with all that great power, could have been enough for seed. Why are other gods required for it, especially Liber and Libera, that is, Ceres? — about whom, as far as seed is concerned, he again says as much as if he had said nothing about Saturn.

Now among the rites of Ceres, the Eleusinian rites, which were held in the highest esteem among the Athenians, are very famous. Varro offers no interpretation except with respect to grain, which Ceres discovered, and with respect to Proserpine, whom Ceres lost when Orcus carried her away. And this Proserpine herself, he says, signifies the fertility of seeds. But since this fertility departed at a certain season, while the earth wore a look of sorrow because of the barrenness that followed, there arose an opinion that the daughter of Ceres, that is, fertility itself, who was called Proserpine, from proserpere (to creep forth, to spring), had been carried away by Orcus, and held among the inhabitants of the underworld; and this was marked with public mourning. But since the same fertility returned again, there arose joy because Proserpine had been given back by Orcus, and so these rites were instituted. Then Varro adds that many things are taught in the mysteries of Ceres which only refer to the discovery of fruits.

Now as to the rites of Liber, whom they have set over liquid seeds, and therefore not only over the juices of fruits, among which wine holds, so to speak, first place, but also over the seeds of animals:— as to these rites, I am unwilling to undertake to show what depths of depravity they had reached, because that would require a lengthy discussion, though I am not unwilling to do so as a demonstration of the proud stupidity of those who practice them. Among other rites which their great number compels me to omit, Varro says that in Italy, at the places where roads crossed, the rites of Liber were celebrated with such unrestrained depravity, that the private parts of a man were worshipped in his honor. Nor was this abomination carried out in secret, so that at least some respect might be paid to modesty, but was openly and wantonly displayed. For during the festival of Liber this obscene member, placed on a cart, was carried with great honor, first over the crossroads in the country, and then into the city. But in the town of Lavinium a whole month was devoted to Liber alone, during the days of which all the people gave themselves up to the most dissolute talk, until that member had been carried through the forum and brought to rest in its own place; and the most honorable matron had to place a wreath on that indecent member in the presence of all the people. This, evidently, was how the god Liber had to be appeased for the growth of seeds. This was how bewitchment had to be driven away from the fields: by a matron being compelled to do in public what not even a prostitute ought to be permitted to do in a theater, if there were matrons among the spectators. For these reasons, then, Saturn alone was not believed to be enough for seeds — namely, so that the impure mind might find occasions for multiplying the gods; and that, being righteously abandoned to uncleanness by the one true God, and being prostituted to the worship of many false gods, through a craving for ever greater uncleanness, it would call these sacrilegious rites sacred, and would give itself up to be violated and polluted by crowds of foul demons.

Now Neptune had as his wife Salacia, who they say is the lower waters of the sea. Why was Venilia also joined to him? Was it not simply through the lust of the soul desiring a greater number of demons to whom to prostitute itself, and not because this goddess was necessary to the perfection of their sacred rites? But let the interpretation of this illustrious theology be brought forward to hold us back from this censure by giving a satisfactory reason. Venilia, says this theology, is the wave which comes to the shore, Salacia the wave which returns into the sea. Why, then, are there two goddesses, when it is one wave which comes and returns? Certainly it is mad lust itself, which in its eagerness for many deities resembles the waves which break on the shore. For though the water which goes is not different from that which returns, still the soul which goes and does not return is defiled by two demons, whom it has used this false pretext to invite. I ask you, Varro, and you who have read such works of learned men, and think you have learned something great — I ask you to interpret this, I do not say in a manner consistent with the eternal and unchangeable nature which alone is God, but only in a manner consistent with the doctrine of the soul of the world and its parts, which you think are the true gods. It is a somewhat more tolerable thing that you have made that part of the soul of the world which pervades the sea your god Neptune. Is the wave, then, which comes to the shore and returns to the open sea, two parts of the world, or two parts of the soul of the world? Which of you is so foolish as to think so? Why, then, have they made two goddesses for you? The only reason seems to be that your wise ancestors saw to it, not that many gods should rule you, but that many demons of the kind that delight in those vanities and falsehoods should possess you. But why has that Salacia, according to this interpretation, lost the lower part of the sea, since she was represented as subject to her husband? For in saying that she is the receding wave, you have put her on the surface. Was she enraged at her husband for taking Venilia as a concubine, and thus drove him from the upper part of the sea?

Surely the earth, which we see full of its own living creatures, is one; but for all that, it is only a huge mass among the elements, and the lowest part of the world. Why, then, do they want it to be a goddess? Is it because it is fruitful? Why, then, are men not held to be gods instead, since they make it fruitful by cultivating it, though they plow it and do not adore it? But, they say, the part of the soul of the world which pervades it makes it a goddess. As if it were not far more evident, indeed beyond question, that there is a soul in man. And yet men are not held to be gods, but (a thing to be sadly lamented), by an astonishing and pitiful delusion, are made subject to beings who are not gods, and who are inferior to them, as if these deserved worship and adoration. And certainly the same Varro, in the book on the select gods, affirms that there are three grades of soul in the whole of nature. One pervades all the living parts of the body, and has no sensation, but only the power of life — that principle which penetrates into the bones, nails and hair. By this principle in the world trees are nourished, and grow without having sensation, and live in a manner of their own. The second grade of soul is that in which there is sensation. This principle penetrates into the eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth, and the organs of sensation. The third grade of soul is the highest, and is called mind, where intelligence has its throne. No mortal creatures except man possess this grade of soul. Now this part of the soul of the world, Varro says, is called God, and in us is called Genius. And the stones and earth in the world, which we see, and which are not pervaded by the power of sensation, are, as it were, the bones and nails of God. Again, the sun, moon, and stars, which we perceive, and by which He perceives, are His organs of perception. Moreover, the ether is His mind; and by the power which is in it, which penetrates into the stars, it also makes them gods; and because it penetrates through them into the earth, it makes it the goddess Tellus, from which again it enters and permeates the sea and ocean, making them the god Neptune. Let him return from this, which he thinks is natural theology, to the one from which he set out, in order to rest from the fatigue caused by the many twists and turns of his path. Let him return, I say, let him return to the civil theology. I wish to keep him there a while. I have something to say that has to do with that theology. I am not yet saying that if the earth and stones are similar to our bones and nails, they are likewise as devoid of intelligence as they are of sensation. Nor am I saying that, if our bones and nails are said to have intelligence, because they are in a man who has intelligence, the person who says that the corresponding things in the world are gods is as stupid as the one who says that our bones and nails are men. We shall perhaps have occasion to argue these things with the philosophers. For now, however, I wish to deal with Varro as a political theologian. For it is possible that, though he may seem to have wished to lift up his head, as it were, into the freedom of natural theology, the awareness that the book he was working on dealt with a subject belonging to civil theology may have caused him to fall back into the point of view of that theology, and to say this in order that the ancestors of his nation, and other states, might not be believed to have bestowed on Neptune an irrational worship. What I have to say is this: Since the earth is one, why has that part of the soul of the world which permeates the earth not made it the one goddess he calls Tellus? But if it had done so, what then would have become of Orcus, the brother of Jupiter and Neptune, whom they call Father Dis? And where, in that case, would his wife Proserpine have been, who, according to another opinion given in the same book, is called, not the fertility of the earth, but its lower part? But if they say that part of the soul of the world, when it permeates the upper part of the earth, makes the god Father Dis, but when it pervades its lower part, makes the goddess Proserpine; what, in that case, will that Tellus be? For all that she was has been divided into these two parts, and these two gods; so that it is impossible to find what to make or where to place her as a third goddess, unless it is said that those divinities Orcus and Proserpine are the one goddess Tellus, and that they are not three gods, but one or two, while they are nevertheless called three, held to be three, worshipped as three, having their own separate altars, their own shrines, rites, images, priests, while their own false demons also through these things defile the prostituted soul. Let this further question be answered: What part of the earth does a part of the soul of the world permeate in order to make the god Tellumo? No, he says; but the earth, being one and the same, has a double life — the masculine, which produces seed, and the feminine, which receives and nourishes the seed. For this reason it has been called Tellus from the feminine principle, and Tellumo from the masculine. Why, then, do the priests, as he indicates, perform divine service to four gods, with two others added — namely, to Tellus, Tellumo, Altor, and Rusor? We have already spoken about Tellus and Tellumo. But why do they worship Altor? Because, he says, all that springs from the earth is nourished by the earth. Why do they worship Rusor? Because all things return again to the place from which they came.

The one earth, then, on account of this fourfold power, ought to have had four surnames, but not to have been considered as four gods — as Jupiter and Juno, though they have so many surnames, are for all that only single deities — for by all these surnames it is signified that a manifold power belongs to one god or to one goddess; but the multitude of surnames does not imply a multitude of gods. But as sometimes even the vilest women themselves grow tired of those crowds which they have sought out under the impulse of wicked passion, so also the soul, having become vile and prostituted itself to impure spirits, sometimes begins to loathe multiplying gods for itself to whom it may surrender itself to be polluted, as much as it once delighted in doing so. For Varro himself, as if ashamed of that crowd of gods, wants Tellus to be one goddess. “They say,” he says, “that the one great mother's having a tympanum signifies that she is the orb of the earth; her having towers on her head signifies towns; and the seats fixed around her signify that while all things move, she does not move. And their having made the Galli serve this goddess signifies that those who are in need of seed ought to follow the earth, for in it all seeds are found. By their throwing themselves down before her, it is taught,” he says, “that those who cultivate the earth should not sit idle, for there is always something for them to do. The sound of the cymbals signifies the noise made by the clatter of iron tools, and by men's hands, and all other noises connected with farm work; and these cymbals are of bronze, because the ancients used bronze tools in their agriculture before iron was discovered. They place beside the goddess an unbound and tame lion, to show that there is no kind of land so wild and so excessively barren that it would be useless to try to tame it and cultivate it.” Then he adds that, because they gave many names and surnames to mother Tellus, it came to be thought that these signified many gods. “They think,” he says, “that Tellus is Ops, because the earth is improved by labor; Mother, because it brings forth much; Great, because it brings forth seed; Proserpine, because fruits creep forth from it; Vesta, because it is invested with herbs. And so,” he says, “it is not at all absurd that they identify other goddesses with the earth.” If, then, it is one goddess (though, if the truth were consulted, it is not even that), why do they nevertheless separate it into many? Let there be many names of one goddess, and let there not be as many goddesses as there are names. But the authority of the erring ancients weighs heavily on Varro, and compels him, after having expressed this opinion, to show signs of uneasiness; for he immediately adds, “The opinion of the ancients, who thought that there were really many goddesses, does not conflict with these things.” How does it not conflict, when it is an entirely different thing to say that one goddess has many names, and to say that there are many goddesses? But it is possible, he says, that the same thing may both be one, and yet have in it a plurality of things. I grant that there are many things in one man; are there therefore many men in him? In the same way, in one goddess there are many things; are there therefore also many goddesses? But let them divide, unite, multiply, redouble, and entangle as they like. These are the famous mysteries of Tellus and the Great Mother, all of which are shown to refer to mortal seeds and to agriculture. Do these things, then — namely, the tympanum, the towers, the Galli, the tossing of limbs back and forth, the noise of cymbals, the images of lions — do these things, having this reference and this end, promise eternal life? Do the mutilated Galli, then, serve this Great Mother in order to signify that those who are in need of seed should follow the earth, as though it were not rather this very service that caused them to lack seed? For do they, by following this goddess, acquire seed when they lack it, or, by following her, lose seed when they have it? Is this to interpret or to denounce? Nor does anyone consider how far malign demons have gained the upper hand, since they have been able to exact such cruel rites without having dared to promise any great things in return for them. If the earth had not been a goddess, men would have laid their hands on it in labor in order to obtain seed through it, and would not have laid violent hands on themselves in order to lose seed on account of it. If it had not been a goddess, it would have become so fertile by the hands of others, that it would not have compelled a man to be made barren by his own hands. That at the festival of Liber an honorable matron put a wreath on the private parts of a man in the sight of the multitude, where perhaps her husband was standing by blushing and perspiring, if there is any shame left in men; and that at the celebration of marriages the newly married bride was ordered to sit on Priapus: these things are bad enough, but they are small and contemptible in comparison with that most cruel abomination, or most abominable cruelty, by which each sex is so abused that neither dies of its wound. There the bewitching of fields is feared; here the amputation of members is not feared. There the modesty of the bride is outraged, but in such a way that neither her fruitfulness nor even her virginity is taken away; here a man is so mutilated that he is neither changed into a woman nor remains a man.

Varro has not spoken of that Atys, nor sought out any interpretation for him, in memory of whom, as the beloved of Ceres, the Gallus is mutilated. But the learned and wise Greeks have by no means been silent about an interpretation so holy and so illustrious. The celebrated philosopher Porphyry has said that Atys signifies the flowers of spring, which is the most beautiful season, and therefore was mutilated because the flower falls before the fruit appears. They have not, then, compared the man himself, or rather that semblance of a man they called Atys, to the flower, but only his male organs — these, indeed, fell while he was living. Did I say fell? No, in truth they did not fall, nor were they plucked off, but torn away. Nor when that flower was lost did any fruit follow, but rather sterility. What, then, do they say is signified by the castrated Atys himself, and whatever remained to him after his castration? To what do they refer that? What interpretation does that give rise to? Or, after vain efforts to discover an interpretation, do they try to persuade men that what should be believed instead is what rumor has made public, and what has also been written, about his having been a mutilated man? Our Varro has very properly opposed this, and has been unwilling to state it; for it certainly was not unknown to that most learned man.

About the effeminates consecrated to the same Great Mother, in defiance of all the modesty which belongs to men and women, Varro has not wished to say anything, nor do I remember reading anything about them anywhere. These effeminates, until only yesterday, were going through the streets and places of Carthage with anointed hair, whitened faces, limp bodies, and feminine gait, demanding from the people the means to support their disgraceful lives. Nothing has been said about them. Interpretation failed, reason blushed, speech was silent. The Great Mother has surpassed all her sons, not in greatness of deity, but in greatness of crime. To this monster not even the monstrosity of Janus is to be compared. His deformity was only in his image; hers was the deformity of cruelty in her sacred rites. He has too many limbs in stone images; she inflicts the loss of limbs on men. This abomination is not surpassed by the licentious deeds of Jupiter, so many and so great. He, with all his seductions of women, only disgraced heaven with one Ganymede; she, with so many open and public effeminates, has both defiled the earth and outraged heaven. Perhaps we may either compare Saturn to this Magna Mater, or even set him before her in this kind of abominable cruelty, for he mutilated his father. But at the festivals of Saturn, men could be killed by the hands of others rather than mutilated by their own. He devoured his sons, as the poets say, and the natural theologians interpret this as they please. History says he killed them. But the Romans never adopted, as the Carthaginians did, the custom of sacrificing their sons to him. This Great Mother of the gods, however, has brought mutilated men into Roman temples, and has preserved that cruel custom, since she is believed to promote the strength of the Romans by emasculating their men. Compared with this evil, what are the thefts of Mercury, the wantonness of Venus, and the shameful and scandalous deeds of the rest of them, which we might bring forward from books if they were not sung and danced every day in the theaters? But what are these things to so great an evil — an evil whose magnitude could be matched only by the greatness of the Great Mother, — especially as these are said to have been invented by the poets? As if the poets had also invented the fact that these things are acceptable to the gods. Let it be imputed, then, to the audacity and impudence of the poets that these things have been sung and written of. But that they have been incorporated into the body of divine rites and honors, with the deities themselves demanding and extorting that incorporation, what is that but the crime of the gods? Or rather, the confession of demons and the deception of wretched men? But the idea that the Great Mother is properly worshipped when she is worshipped by the consecration of mutilated men is not an invention of the poets, indeed, they have rather shrunk from it with horror than sung of it. Ought anyone, then, to be consecrated to these select gods so that he may live blessedly after death, when, consecrated to them, he could not live decently before death, being subjected to such foul superstitions, and bound over to unclean demons? But all these things, says Varro, are to be referred to the world. Let him consider whether it is not rather to the unclean. But why not refer that to the world which is demonstrated to be in the world? We, however, seek a mind which, trusting in true religion, does not adore the world as its god, but for the sake of God praises the world as a work of God, and, purified from worldly defilements, comes pure to God Himself who founded the world.

We see that these select gods have, indeed, become more famous than the rest; not, however, so that their merits may be brought to light, but so that their disgraceful deeds may not be hidden. So it is more credible that they were men, as not only poetic but also historical literature has handed down. For what Virgil says, Then from Olympus' heights came down / Good Saturn, exiled from his throne / By Jove, his mightier heir; and what follows about this affair, is fully related by the historian Euhemerus, and has been translated into Latin by Ennius. And since those who have written before us in Greek or in Latin against errors such as these have said much about this matter, I have thought it unnecessary to dwell on it. When I consider those physical reasons, then, by which learned and acute men attempt to turn human things into divine things, all I see is that they have been able to connect these things only with temporal works and to that which has a corporeal nature, and even though invisible still mutable; and this is by no means the true God. But if this worship had been performed as a symbol of ideas at least in keeping with religion, though it would indeed have been a cause of grief that the true God was not announced and proclaimed by its symbolism, nevertheless it could have been tolerated to some degree, as long as it did not cause and command the performance of such foul and abominable things. But since it is impiety to worship the body or the soul in place of the true God, by whose indwelling alone the soul is happy, how much more impious is it to worship those things through which neither soul nor body can obtain either salvation or human honor? Therefore if with temple, priest, and sacrifice, which are due to the true God, any element of the world is worshipped, or any created spirit, even though not impure and evil, that worship is still evil, not because the things are evil by which the worship is performed, but because those things ought only to be used in the worship of Him to whom alone such worship and service are due. But if anyone insists that he worships the one true God — that is, the Creator of every soul and of every body — with stupid and monstrous idols, with human victims, with putting a wreath on the male organ, with the wages of unchastity, with the cutting of limbs, with emasculation, with the consecration of effeminates, with impure and obscene plays, such a person does not sin because he worships One who ought not to be worshipped, but because he worships Him who ought to be worshipped in a way in which He ought not to be worshipped. But whoever worships with such things — that is, foul and obscene things — and worships not the true God, namely, the maker of soul and body, but a creature, even though not a wicked creature, whether it be soul or body, or soul and body together, sins twice against God, because he both worships as God what is not God, and also worships with such things as neither God nor what is not God ought to be worshipped with. It is, indeed, plain how these pagans worship, — that is, how shamefully and criminally they worship; but what or whom they worship would have been left in obscurity, if their history had not testified that those same admittedly shameful and foul rites were performed in obedience to the demands of the gods, who exacted them with terrible severity. Therefore it is evident beyond doubt that this whole civil theology is occupied with inventing means of attracting wicked and most impure spirits, inviting them to visit senseless images, and through these to take possession of stupid hearts.

What, then, is the use of this most learned and most acute man Varro attempting, with seemingly subtle argument, to trace all these gods back to heaven and earth? He cannot do it. They slip out of his hands like water; they shrink back; they slip down and fall. For when about to speak of the females, that is, the goddesses, he says, “Since, as I observed in the first book on places, heaven and earth are the two origins of the gods, for which reason they are called celestials and terrestrials, and as I began in the earlier books with heaven, speaking of Janus, whom some have said to be heaven, and others the earth, so I now begin with Tellus in speaking about the goddesses.” I can understand what embarrassment so great a mind was experiencing. For he is influenced by the perception of a certain plausible resemblance, when he says that the heaven is what acts, and the earth what is acted on, and therefore attributes the masculine principle to the one, and the feminine to the other, not considering that it is rather He who made both heaven and earth who is the maker of both activity and passivity. On this principle he interprets the celebrated mysteries of the Samothracians, and promises, with an air of great devoutness, that he will explain in writing these mysteries, which were not even known to his countrymen, and will send them his exposition. Then he says that he had gathered from many proofs that, in those mysteries, among the images one signifies heaven, another the earth, another the patterns of things, which Plato calls ideas. He makes Jupiter signify heaven, Juno the earth, Minerva the ideas. Heaven, by which anything is made; the earth, from which it is made; and the pattern, according to which it is made. But, with respect to the last, I am forgetting to say that Plato attributed such great importance to these ideas as to say, not that anything was made by heaven according to them, but that according to them heaven itself was made. To return, however — it should be noted that Varro has, in the book on the select gods, lost that theory of these gods, in whom he has, so to speak, included all things. For he assigns the male gods to heaven, the females to earth; and among the latter he has placed Minerva, whom he had before placed above heaven itself. Then the male god Neptune is in the sea, which belongs rather to earth than to heaven. Last of all, father Dis, who is called in Greek Πλουτων, another male god, brother of both (Jupiter and Neptune), is also held to be a god of the earth, holding the upper region of the earth himself, and allotting the lower region to his wife Proserpine. How, then, do they attempt to refer the gods to heaven, and the goddesses to earth? What solidity, what consistency, what soberness is there in this argument? But that Tellus is the origin of the goddesses — that is, the great mother, beside whom there is continually the noise of the mad and abominable revelry of effeminates and mutilated men, and men who cut themselves, and throw themselves about in a frenzy — how is it, then, that Janus is called the head of the gods, and Tellus the head of the goddesses? In the one case error does not make one head, and in the other frenzy does not make a sane one. Why do they vainly attempt to refer these to the world? Even if they could do so, no pious person worships the world in place of the true God. Nevertheless, plain truth makes it evident that they are not even able to do this. Let them rather identify them with dead men and most wicked demons, and no further question will remain.

For all those things which, according to the account given of those gods, are referred to the world by so-called physical interpretation, may, without any religious scruple, be assigned instead to the true God, who made heaven and earth, and created every soul and every body; and the following is the manner in which we see that this may be done. We worship God — not heaven and earth, of which two parts this world consists, nor the soul or souls diffused through all living things — but God who made heaven and earth, and all things which are in them; who made every soul, whatever the nature of its life, whether it has life without sensation and reason, or life with sensation, or life with both sensation and reason.

And now, to begin to go over those works of the one true God, on account of which these men have made for themselves many false gods, while they attempt to give an honorable interpretation to their many most abominable and most infamous mysteries — we worship that God who has appointed for the natures He created both the beginnings and the end of their existence and movement; who holds, knows, and disposes the causes of things; who has created the power of seeds; who has given a rational soul to whatever creatures He wished, which is called mind; who has bestowed the faculty and use of speech; who has imparted the gift of foretelling future things to whatever spirits He saw fit; who also Himself predicts future things, through whom He pleases, and through whom He pleases removes diseases; who, when the human race is to be corrected and chastised by wars, also regulates the beginnings, progress, and ends of these wars; who has created and governs the most vehement and most violent fire of this world, in due relation and proportion to the other elements of immense nature; who is the governor of all the waters; who has made the sun the brightest of all material lights, and has given him suitable power and motion; who has not withdrawn, even from the inhabitants of the underworld, His dominion and power; who has appointed for mortal natures their suitable seed and nourishment, dry or liquid; who establishes and makes fruitful the earth; who bountifully bestows its fruits on animals and on men; who knows and ordains, not only principal causes, but also subsequent causes; who has determined for the moon her motion; who provides ways in heaven and on earth for passage from one place to another; who has also granted to human minds, which He has created, the knowledge of the various arts for the help of life and nature; who has appointed the union of male and female for the propagation of offspring; who has favored the societies of men with the gift of earthly fire for the simplest and most familiar purposes, to burn on the hearth and to give light. These are, then, the things which that most acute and most learned man Varro has labored to distribute among the select gods, by some physical interpretation or other, which he has taken from other sources and also conjectured for himself. But it is the one true God who makes and does these things, and He does so as God — that is, as He who is wholly everywhere, included in no space, bound by no chains, mutable in no part of His being, filling heaven and earth with omnipresent power, not with a needy nature. Therefore He governs all things in such a way as to allow them to perform and exercise their own proper movements. For although they can be nothing without Him, they are not what He is. He also does many things through angels; but He makes the angels blessed only from Himself. So also, though He sends angels to men for certain purposes, He does not for all that make men blessed by the good inherent in the angels, but by Himself, as He does the angels themselves.

For, besides the benefits which, in this administration of nature that we have mentioned, He lavishes on good and bad alike, we have from Him a great manifestation of great love, which belongs only to the good. For although we can never thank Him enough that we exist, that we live, that we see heaven and earth, that we have mind and reason by which to seek Him who made all these things, nevertheless, what hearts, what number of tongues, will claim to be sufficient to give Him thanks for this: that He has not wholly departed from us, burdened and overwhelmed with sins, turned away from the contemplation of His light, and blinded by the love of darkness, that is, of iniquity, but has sent to us His own Word, who is His only Son, so that by His birth and suffering for us in the flesh, which He assumed, we might know how much God valued man, and that by that unique sacrifice we might be purified from all our sins, and that, with love poured out in our hearts by His Spirit, we might overcome all difficulties and come into eternal rest, and the ineffable sweetness of the contemplation of Himself?

This mystery of eternal life, even from the beginning of the human race, was, by certain signs and sacraments suitable to the times, announced through angels to those for whom it was fitting. Then the Hebrew people was gathered into one republic, as it were, to perform this mystery; and in that republic was foretold, sometimes through men who understood what they spoke, and sometimes through men who did not understand, all that has happened since the coming of Christ until now, and all that will happen. This same nation, too, was afterward dispersed through the nations, in order to testify to the scriptures in which eternal salvation in Christ had been declared. For not only the prophecies which are contained in words, nor only the precepts for the right conduct of life, which teach morals and piety, and are contained in the sacred writings — not only these, but also the rites, priesthood, tabernacle or temple, altars, sacrifices, ceremonies, and whatever else belongs to that service which is due to God, and which in Greek is properly called λατρεία — all these signified and announced beforehand those things which we who believe in Jesus Christ for eternal life believe have been fulfilled, or see being fulfilled, or confidently believe will yet be fulfilled.

This, the only true religion, has alone been able to show that the gods of the nations are most impure demons, who desire to be thought gods, making use of the names of certain dead souls, or the appearance of creatures of this world, and with proud impurity rejoicing in the most shameful and infamous things, as though in divine honors, and envying human souls their conversion to the true God. A man is freed from their most cruel and most impious dominion when he believes in Him who has given an example of humility as great as the pride by which they fell, so that men may rise by following it. Among these are not only those gods of whom we have already said much, and many others belonging to different nations and lands, but also those with whom we are now dealing, who have been selected as it were into the senate of the gods — selected, however, on account of the notoriety of their crimes, not on account of the dignity of their virtues — whose sacred rites Varro attempts to trace back to certain natural causes, seeking to make shameful things honorable, but cannot find how to make them fit and agree with these causes, because these are not the causes of those rites, though he thinks they are, or rather wishes them to be thought so. For if not only these, but also all others of this kind, had been real causes, even though they had nothing to do with the true God and eternal life, which is to be sought in religion, they would, by giving some sort of reason drawn from the nature of things, have softened to some degree the offense caused by some depravity or absurdity in the sacred rites, which was not understood. This he attempted to do with certain fables of the theaters, or mysteries of the shrines; but he did not acquit the theaters of likeness to the shrines; rather, he condemned the shrines for their likeness to the theaters. Still, he made some attempt to soothe feelings shocked by horrible things, by giving what he wanted to pass as natural interpretations.

But, on the other hand, we find, as the same most learned man has related, that the causes of the sacred rites which were given from the books of Numa Pompilius could by no means be tolerated, and were considered unworthy, not only to become known to the religious by being read, but even to lie written in the darkness in which they had been concealed. For now let me say what I promised in the third book of this work to say in its proper place. For, as we read in the same Varro's book on the worship of the gods, “A certain Terentius had a field at the Janiculum, and once, when his plowman was driving the plow near the tomb of Numa Pompilius, he turned up from the ground the books of Numa, in which were written the causes of the sacred institutions; and he carried these books to the prætor, who, having read the beginnings of them, referred to the senate what seemed to be a matter of so much importance. And when the chief senators had read some of the causes why this or that rite was instituted, the senate assented to the dead Numa, and the conscript fathers, as though concerned for the interests of religion, ordered the prætor to burn the books.” Let each one believe what he thinks; indeed, let every champion of such impiety say whatever mad contention may suggest. For my part, it is enough to point out that the causes of those sacred things which were written down by King Numa Pompilius, the founder of the Roman rites, ought never to have become known to people or senate, or even to the priests themselves; and also that Numa himself reached these secrets of demons by an illicit curiosity, in order to write them down, so as to be able, by reading, to be reminded of them. However, though he was king, and had no cause to be afraid of anyone, he dared neither to teach them to anyone nor to destroy them by erasing them, or any other form of destruction. Therefore, because he was unwilling for anyone to know them, for fear that men would be taught infamous things, and because he was afraid to violate them, for fear of enraging the demons against himself, he buried them in what he thought a safe place, believing that a plow could not come near his sepulchre. But the senate, fearing to condemn the religious observances of their ancestors, and therefore compelled to assent to Numa, were nevertheless so convinced that those books were pernicious, that they did not order them to be buried again, knowing that human curiosity would in that way be stirred to seek with far greater eagerness what had already been made known, but ordered the scandalous relics to be destroyed with fire; because, since they thought it was now necessary to perform those sacred rites, they judged that the error arising from ignorance of their causes was more tolerable than the disturbance which the knowledge of them would cause the state.

For Numa himself also, to whom no prophet of God, no holy angel was sent, was driven to resort to hydromancy, so that he might see the images of the gods in the water (or, rather, appearances by which the demons made sport of him), and might learn from them what he ought to ordain and observe in the sacred rites. This kind of divination, says Varro, was introduced from the Persians, and was used by Numa himself, and at a later time by the philosopher Pythagoras. In this divination, he says, they also consult the inhabitants of the underworld, and make use of blood; and this the Greeks call νεκρομαντείαν . But whether it is called necromancy or hydromancy it is the same thing, for in either case the dead are supposed to foretell future things. But by what artifices these things are done, let them consider for themselves; for I am unwilling to say that these artifices used to be prohibited by the laws, and very severely punished, even in the Gentile states, before the coming of our Savior. I am unwilling, I say, to affirm this, for perhaps even such things were then allowed. However, it was by these arts that Pompilius learned those sacred rites which he made public as facts, while he concealed their causes; for even he himself was afraid of that which he had learned. The senate also caused the books in which those causes were recorded to be burned. What is it to me, then, that Varro attempts to bring forward all sorts of fanciful physical interpretations? If these books had contained such things, they would certainly not have been burned? For otherwise the conscript fathers would also have burned those books which Varro published and dedicated to the high priest Cæsar. Now Numa is said to have married the nymph Egeria, because (as Varro explains it in the book already mentioned) he drew out water with which to perform his hydromancy. This is how facts are usually turned into fables through false coloring. It was by that hydromancy, then, that this overly curious Roman king learned both the sacred rites which were to be written in the books of the priests, and also the causes of those rites — though he was unwilling for anyone besides himself to know the latter. Therefore he made these causes, so to speak, die along with him, taking care to have them written by themselves, and removed from the knowledge of men by being buried in the earth. Therefore the things which are written in those books were either abominations of demons, so foul and harmful as to make that whole civil theology detestable even in the eyes of such men as those senators, who had accepted so many shameful things in the sacred rites themselves, or they were nothing else than the accounts of dead men, whom, through the lapse of ages, almost all the Gentile nations had come to believe to be immortal gods; while those same demons were delighted even with such rites, having presented themselves to receive worship under the pretense of being those very dead men whom they had caused to be thought immortal gods by certain deceptive miracles, performed in order to establish that belief. But, by the hidden providence of the true God, these demons were permitted to confess these things to their friend Numa, having been won over by those arts through which necromancy could be performed, and yet were not compelled to warn him at his death to burn rather than bury the books in which they were written. But, to keep these books unknown, the demons could not resist the plow by which they were turned up, or the pen of Varro, through which the things which were done in this matter have come down even to our knowledge. For they are not able to do anything they are not allowed to do; but they are permitted to influence those whom God, in His deep and just judgment, according to what they deserve, gives over either to be simply afflicted by them, or to be also subdued and deceived. But how pernicious these writings were judged to be, or how alien to the worship of the true Divinity, may be understood from the fact that the senate preferred to burn what Pompilius had hidden, rather than to fear what he feared, the fear that kept him from daring to burn them. Therefore let anyone who does not desire to live a pious life even now seek eternal life by means of such rites. But let anyone who does not wish to have fellowship with malign demons have no fear of the harmful superstition with which they are worshipped, but recognize the true religion by which they are unmasked and vanquished.