Those of quicker and better ability, for whom the preceding books more than suffice for this matter, ought patiently and calmly to bear with me as I strive rather diligently to tear up and root out those depraved and ancient opinions, hostile to the truth of true religion, which the long-standing error of the human race has fixed the more deeply and tenaciously in darkened minds; and as I, according to my small measure, cooperate with the help of that grace which, being the true God, is alone able to do this. Nor, for the sake of others, should they think superfluous what they already feel to be unnecessary for themselves.
A matter exceedingly great is at stake, when the true and truly holy Godhead is proclaimed as to be sought and worshipped—although from it are furnished to us the aids necessary even for this frailty which we now bear—yet not for the sake of the transitory vapour of mortal life, but for the sake of the blessed life, which is none other than eternal.
This divinity, or, if I may so speak, deity (for our writers do not now shrink from using this word, so as to render more expressly from the Greek what they call theotēs)—this divinity, then, or deity, is not to be found in that theology which they call civil, which Marcus Varro expounded in sixteen volumes; that is, one does not attain to the felicity of eternal life by the worship of such gods as the states have appointed to be worshipped, and in whatever manner. Whoever has not yet been persuaded of this by the sixth book, which we have just completed, when perhaps he has read this present one, will have nothing further to desire for the settling of this question.
For it may happen that someone should suppose at least the select and chief gods, whom Varro embraced in his last volume and of whom we have said too little, ought to be worshipped for the sake of the blessed life, which is none other than eternal. In this matter I do not say what Tertullian remarked, perhaps more wittily than truly: If gods are chosen like onions, then surely the rest are judged worthless. I do not say this; for I see that even from the select ones some are further chosen for something greater and more excellent, just as in warfare, when recruits have been selected, from these too some are chosen for some greater feat of arms; and when men are chosen in the church to be set over others, the rest are not thereby rejected, since all good faithful are rightly called the elect.
In a building, cornerstones are chosen, without the rest being rejected, which are assigned to other parts of the structure. Grapes are chosen for eating, nor are the others rejected which we leave for drinking. There is no need to run through many examples, since the matter is plain. Wherefore, not because certain gods have been selected out of many is either he who wrote of them, or their worshippers, or the gods themselves to be blamed; but rather it is to be observed who exactly these are, and for what purpose they seem to have been selected. These select gods, at any rate, Varro commends in the compass of a single book:
Janus, Jupiter, Saturn, Genius, Mercury, Apollo, Mars, Vulcan, Neptune, Sol, Orcus, Father Liber, Tellus, Ceres, Juno, Luna, Diana, Minerva, Venus, Vesta—in all some twenty, of whom twelve are male and eight female. Are these deities said to be select because of their greater administrations in the world, or because they became better known to the peoples and greater worship was rendered to them? If it is because greater works are administered by them in the world, we ought not to have found them among that, as it were, plebeian multitude of deities assigned to petty little tasks.
For first, Janus himself, when a conception is begun—whence all those works take their beginning, minutely distributed among minute deities—opens the entrance for receiving the seed. There too is Saturn, on account of the seed itself; there Liber, who frees the male by the emission of seed; there Libera, whom they also identify with Venus, who confers this same benefit upon the woman, that she too may be freed by the emission of seed. All these are of those who are called select. But there too is the goddess Mena, who presides over the menstrual flows, though a daughter of Jupiter, yet ignoble.
And this province of the menstrual flows the same author, in his book of the select gods, assigns to Juno herself, who among the select gods is even queen, and here, as Juno Lucina, together with this same Mena, her stepdaughter, presides over the same blood. There too are two obscure ones I know not whom, Vitumnus and Sentinus, of whom the one bestows life, the other sense, upon the offspring. And truly they render far more, ignoble as they are, than all those so many magnates and select ones. For assuredly, without life and sense, what is that whole thing which is carried in the womb but some most abject thing, comparable to mud and dust?
[III] What cause, then, compelled so many select gods to these least of tasks, where in the sharing of this bounty they are surpassed by Vitumnus and Sentinus, whom an obscure reputation conceals? For the select Janus confers the entrance and, as it were, the door for the seed; the select Saturn confers the seed itself; the select Liber confers the emission of that same seed in males; Libera, who is Ceres or Venus, confers this same in females; the select Juno confers—and this not alone, but together with Mena, daughter of Jupiter—the menstrual flows for the increase of what has been conceived; and Vitumnus, obscure and ignoble, confers life; Sentinus, obscure and ignoble, confers sense;
which two things are so much more excellent than those others, by as much as they themselves surpass them in understanding and reason. For just as those beings which reason and understand are assuredly superior to those which live and feel like cattle without understanding and reason, so too those things which are endowed with life and sense are deservedly preferred to those which neither live nor feel. Accordingly, among the select gods, Vitumnus the life-giver and Sentinus the sense-giver ought to have been reckoned rather than Janus the admitter of seed, and Saturn the giver or sower of seed, and Liber and Libera the stirrers-up or emitters of seed;
seeds which it is unworthy to consider unless they attain to life and sense—gifts that are not given by the select gods, but by certain unknown ones neglected in comparison with the dignity of those. But if it is answered that Janus has power over all beginnings, and therefore that even the opening for conception is not undeservedly attributed to him; and Saturn over all seeds, and therefore that the seeding of man too cannot be sundered from his operation; and Liber and Libera over all emissions of seed, and therefore that they also preside over what pertains to the reproduction of men; and Juno over all purgings and births, and therefore that she is not absent from the purgings of women and the births of men:
then let them ask what they will answer concerning Vitumnus and Sentinus—whether they wish these too to have power over all things that live and feel. If they grant this, let them consider how much more sublimely they will be placing them. For to be born from seeds is in the earth and from the earth; but to live and to feel they suppose belongs even to the starry gods. If, however, they say that to Vitumnus and Sentinus only these things are attributed which grow to life in the flesh and are aided by the senses: why does not that God who makes all things live and feel grant life and sense to the flesh also, bestowing this gift by a universal operation upon births as well? and what need is there of Vitumnus and Sentinus?
But if by him who universally presides over life and the senses these fleshly matters, as the lowest and meanest, have been committed to these as it were to servants: were those select gods so destitute of a household that they could not find any to whom they too might commit these things, but with all their nobility, for which they seemed worthy to be chosen, were compelled to do their work with ignoble ones? Juno is select and queen, and "both sister and consort of Jupiter"; yet she is Iterduca (guide of the journey) to boys, and does her work with the most ignoble goddesses Abeona and Adeona. There too they have placed the goddess Mens, who gives boys a good mind, and among the select ones she is not placed—as though anything greater could be bestowed upon man;
but Juno is placed there, because she is Iterduca and Domiduca (leader home)—as though it were of any profit to take a journey and be led home, if the mind be not good, the goddess of which gift these selectors placed least of all among the select deities. She assuredly ought to have been preferred even to Minerva, to whom, through these petty tasks, they attributed the memory of boys. For who would doubt that it is far better to have a good mind than a memory however vast? For no one is evil who has a good mind; whereas certain most wicked men have a marvellous memory, so much the worse as they are the less able to forget what they wickedly devise. And yet Minerva is among the select gods; but the goddess Mens a vile throng has buried. What shall I say of Virtue? what of Felicity?
concerning whom we have already said much in the fourth book; who, though they held them as goddesses, would give them no place among the select gods, where they gave a place to Mars and Orcus, the one the worker of deaths, the other the receiver. Since therefore in these petty tasks, which are minutely distributed among many gods, we see even the select ones themselves working, as it were, a senate together with the plebs, and find that by certain gods, who were by no means thought worthy of selection, far greater and better things are administered than by those who are called select: it remains to conclude that they were named select and chief not on account of more excellent administrations in the world, but because it came about that they became better known to the peoples.
Whence even Varro himself says that to certain father-gods and mother-goddesses, as to men, ignobility had befallen. If, therefore, Felicity perhaps for this reason ought not to have been among the select gods, that they attained to that nobility not by merit but by chance: then at least among them, or rather before them, Fortune should have been placed, whom they say to be a goddess who confers her gifts upon each not by rational arrangement, but as it may chance to fall out. She ought to have held the summit among the select gods, since in them she especially showed what she could do; seeing that we behold them chosen not by pre-eminent virtue, nor by rational felicity, but, as their worshippers think concerning her, by the reckless power of Fortune.
For the most eloquent Sallust too perhaps had regard even to the gods themselves when he said: "But assuredly Fortune bears sway in every matter; she makes all things famous or obscure according to caprice rather than according to truth." For they cannot find a reason why Venus should have been made famous and Virtue obscured, when the deities of both were consecrated by these people, and their merits are not to be compared. Or if Venus deserved to be ennobled because more people seek her—for more seek Venus than Virtue—why was the goddess Minerva made famous and the goddess Money (Pecunia) obscured?
seeing that in the human race greed allures more than skill, and even among those who are skilled you will rarely find a man who does not have his art up for sale at a money price, and that for the sake of which something is done is always esteemed more than that which is done for the sake of something else. If, then, this selection of gods was made by the judgment of the foolish multitude, why was not the goddess Money preferred to Minerva, since it is on account of money that there are many craftsmen? But if this distinction belongs to the few wise, why was not Virtue preferred to Venus, since reason far prefers her?
At any rate, as I said, Fortune herself, who, as those who ascribe most to her think, bears sway in every matter and makes all things famous or obscure according to caprice rather than according to truth—if she has had such power even over the gods, that by her reckless judgment she made famous whom she would and obscured whom she would—ought to have held a chief place among the select ones, she who is of so pre-eminent a power even over the gods themselves. Or, that she might not be able to be there, is even Fortune herself to be supposed to have had nothing else but adverse fortune? She then was adverse to herself, who, while making others noble, was not herself ennobled.
[IV] But any seeker after nobility and renown might congratulate these select gods and call them fortunate, did he not see them selected rather for insults than for honours. For that lowest throng their very ignobility covered, lest it be overwhelmed with reproaches. We laugh indeed when we see them, by the figments of human opinions, distributed among tasks parceled out among themselves, like petty toll-farmers of the revenues, or like craftsmen in the silversmiths' quarter, where a single little vessel, in order that it may come forth finished, passes through many artisans, though it could have been finished by one skilled workman.
But it was thought that provision could be made for the multitude of workers only by this means, that individuals should learn the separate parts of the craft quickly and easily, lest all should be forced to become masters in one whole craft slowly and with difficulty. Nevertheless, scarcely any of the non-select gods is found who has drawn upon himself an infamous reputation by some crime; but scarcely any of the select ones who has not received upon himself the mark of some notable disgrace. The former descended to the humble works of the latter; the latter did not come to the sublime crimes of the former. Concerning Janus indeed nothing readily occurs to me that pertains to disgrace. And perhaps he was such a one, that he lived more innocently and more remote from misdeeds and enormities. He kindly received the fugitive Saturn;
he shared his kingdom with his guest, so that each even founded his own city, the one the Janiculum, the other Saturnia. But those who in the worship of the gods seek out every sort of unseemliness, when they found a life less base in him, disfigured him with the monstrous deformity of his image, making him now two-faced, now even four-faced, as it were twin. Or perhaps they wished that, since very many of the select gods had by committing shameful deeds lost their 'face' (frons, forehead/shame), the more innocent this one was, the more 'faced' (frontosus) he should appear. [V] But let us rather hear their physical interpretations, by which they attempt to color the baseness of a most wretched error with the appearance, as it were, of loftier doctrine.
First, Varro commends these interpretations by saying that the ancients fashioned the images of the gods, and their emblems and adornments, so that those who had approached the mysteries of the doctrine, when they had observed them with their eyes, might behold with the mind the soul of the world and its parts, that is, the true gods; and that those who made images in the form of a man seem to have followed this reasoning, that the mind of mortals, which is in the human body, is most like the immortal mind; just as if vessels were set up for the purpose of denoting the gods, and in the temple of Liber a wine-jar (oenophorum) were placed, which would signify wine, by that which contains signifying that which is contained;
so through an image which had the human form, the rational soul is signified, because in that kind of vessel, as it were, that nature is wont to be contained, of which nature they hold that a god or gods exist. These are the mysteries of the doctrine which that most learned man had penetrated, whence he might bring these things forth into the light. But, O most acute man, have you in these mysteries of doctrine lost that prudence by which it soberly seemed to you that those who first set up images for the peoples both took away fear from their fellow-citizens and added error, and that the ancient Romans observed the gods more chastely without images? For these were your authorities, that you dared to say these things against the later Romans.
For if those most ancient men too had worshipped images, perhaps you would have suppressed by the silence of fear that whole opinion about images not being set up—true for the meantime—and would have proclaimed the more loquaciously and loftily, in figments of this pernicious and vain kind, these mysteries of doctrine. Yet your soul, so learned and ingenious (wherein we greatly grieve for you), by these mysteries of doctrine could in no way arrive at its God—that is, at Him by whom it was made, not with whom it was made, nor whose portion it is, but whose creation it is; nor who is the soul of all things, but who made every soul, by whose sole illumination the soul becomes blessed, if it be not ungrateful to His grace. But what these mysteries of doctrine are, and how they are to be esteemed, what follows will show.
Meanwhile this most learned man confesses that the soul of the world and its parts are the true gods; whence it is understood that his whole theology, that is, that very natural theology to which he ascribes so much, could extend itself even to the nature of the rational soul. For concerning the natural theology he prefaces very little in this book, which he wrote last, concerning the select gods; in which we shall see whether, by physiological interpretations, he can refer the civil to this natural. If he can, the whole will be natural: and what need was there to sever the civil from it with so great a care of distinction? But if it is separated by a correct discrimination:
since not even that which pleases him as natural is true (for it reaches as far as the soul, not as far as the true God who made even the soul), how much more abject and false is this civil theology, which is chiefly occupied about the nature of bodies, as its very interpretations will demonstrate—of which it behooves me to record some necessary ones—drawn out and unfolded by them with such great diligence. [VI] The same Varro, then, still prefacing concerning natural theology, says that he judges God to be the soul of the world, whom the Greeks call kosmos, and that this world itself is God; but that, just as a wise man, though he is composed of body and soul, is yet called wise from the soul, so the world is called God from the soul, though it is composed of soul and body.
Here he seems in some way to confess one God; but in order to introduce even more, he adds that the world is divided into two parts, heaven and earth; and heaven in two ways, into ether and air; but earth into water and land; of which the highest is ether, the second air, the third water, the lowest earth; all which four parts are full of souls—in ether and air of immortal ones, in water and earth of mortal ones. And from the highest circuit of heaven to the circle of the moon are ethereal souls, the stars and constellations, and these heavenly gods are not only understood to be, but even seen; but between the orbit of the moon and the summits of clouds and winds are aerial souls, but these are seen by the mind, not by the eyes, and are called heroes and lares and genii.
This, evidently, is the natural theology briefly propounded in that preface, which pleased not only him but many philosophers; concerning which it must then be more diligently discussed, when, with the help of the true God, I shall have completed what remains concerning the civil, as far as pertains to the select gods. [VII] Janus, then, from whom he took his beginning, I ask who exactly he is. It is answered: He is the world. This is plainly a brief and open answer. Why, then, are the beginnings of things said to pertain to him, but the ends to another, whom they call Terminus? For on account of beginnings and ends they declare that two months are dedicated to these two gods, besides those ten of which Martius is the head down to December—January to Janus, February to Terminus.
Therefore they say the Terminalia are celebrated in the same month of February, when the purificatory rite is performed, which they call Februm, whence the month received its name. Does it follow, then, that to the world, which is Janus, the beginnings of things pertain but the ends do not, so that another god had to be set over them? Do they not confess that all things which they say come to be in this world are also brought to an end in this same world? What is this vanity, to give the one a half power in his work, a double face in his image? Would they not interpret this two-faced god far more elegantly, if they said the same one was both Janus and Terminus, and gave one face to beginnings, the other to ends? For whoever works ought to attend to both; for in every movement of his action, he who does not look back to the beginning does not look forward to the end.
Whence it is necessary that the forward-looking intention be connected with the memory that looks back; for whoever has forgotten what he began will not find how to finish it. But if they thought that the blessed life is begun in this world but perfected outside the world, and therefore attributed to Janus, that is, to the world, only the power over beginnings: assuredly they would prefer Terminus to him and would not alienate him from the select gods. Although even now, when in these two gods the beginnings and ends of temporal things are treated, more honor ought to have been given to Terminus. For there is greater gladness when any matter is perfected;
but beginnings are full of anxiety until they are brought to their end, which he who begins anything especially seeks, aims at, awaits, longs for, nor does he exult over a thing begun unless it be brought to a term. [VIII] But now let the interpretation of the two-faced image be brought forth. They say he has two faces, before and behind, because our gape, when we open the mouth, seems like the world; whence the Greeks also call the palate ouranon (heaven), and some Latin poets, he says, have called the palate 'heaven'; from which gaping of the mouth there is an entrance both outward toward the teeth and inward toward the throat. Behold to what the world has been brought on account of a word for our palate, whether Greek or poetic. But what has this to do with the soul, what with eternal life?
Is this god to be worshipped merely on account of the saliva, for the swallowing of part and the spitting out of part of which each door of the palate is opened beneath the 'heaven'? What, moreover, is more absurd than not to find in the world itself two doors set opposite each other, through which it might either admit something into itself inward or emit it from itself outward, and yet to wish to compose from our mouth and throat—whose likeness the world does not have—an image of the world in Janus on account of the palate alone, whose likeness Janus does not have? But when they make him four-faced and call him Janus Geminus, they interpret this of the four parts of the world, as if the world looked outward through all its faces as Janus does.
Then, if Janus is the world, and the world consists of four parts, the image of the two-faced Janus is false; or if it is true for this reason, that the whole world is also wont to be understood by the name of East and West, would anyone—when we name the two other parts, North and South—say the world is twin, as they call the four-faced Janus 'Janus Geminus'? They have no way at all whereby to interpret four doors, which might lie open to those entering and going out, after the likeness of the world, as concerning the two-faced one they found at least in the mouth of man something they might allege—unless perhaps Neptune should come to their aid and hold out a fish, whose throat, besides the gape of the mouth and gullet, lies open also on the right and left.
And yet no soul escapes this vanity through so many doors, except the one that hears Truth saying: I am the door. [IX] But let them expound whom they wish Jove—who is also called Jupiter—to be understood as. "He is a god," they say, "having power over the causes by which anything comes to be in the world." How great this is, that most noble verse of Virgil attests: Happy is he who has been able to know the causes of things. But why is Janus set before him? Let that most acute and learned man answer us this. "Because with Janus," he says, "are the first things, with Jove the highest. Deservedly, therefore, is Jupiter held to be king of all.
For first things are surpassed by highest things, because, although first things precede in time, highest things excel in dignity." But this would be rightly said, if the firsts and the highests of things done were being distinguished; as the beginning of a deed is to set out, the highest to arrive; the beginning of a deed the commencement of learning, the highest the full attainment of the doctrine; and thus in all things the firsts are the beginnings and the highests are the ends. But this business has already been discussed between Janus and Terminus. The causes, however, which are given to Jove, are efficient causes, not effects; nor can it in any way come to pass that they be anticipated in time by the deeds or the beginnings of deeds. For the thing which makes is always prior to that which is made.
Wherefore, if the beginnings of things done pertain to Janus, they are not on that account prior to the efficient causes which they attribute to Jove. For as nothing comes to be, so nothing is begun in order to come to be, without a making cause having preceded. If the peoples call this god, in whose power are all the causes of all created natures and natural things, by the name of Jupiter, and yet worship him with such great insults and such wicked charges of crime, they bind themselves with a fouler sacrilege than if they thought there were no god at all.
Whence it would be better for them to call some other by the name of Jupiter, one worthy of base and shameful honors, substituting a vain figment which they might rather blaspheme (just as a stone is said to have been substituted for Saturn, which he might devour in place of his son), than to call this god both the thunderer and the adulterer, both the ruler of the whole world and one dissolute through so many defilements, and one holding the highest causes of all natures and natural things and yet not holding good causes for himself. Next I ask what place among the gods they now assign to this Jupiter, if Janus is the world. For he defined the true gods to be the soul of the world and its parts; and by this, whatever is not this is assuredly, according to them, not a true god.
Will they then say that Jupiter is the soul of the world, so that Janus is its body, that is, this visible world? If they say this, there will be no way in which they can call Janus a god, since the body of the world is not a god even according to themselves, but the soul of the world and its parts. Whence the same man says most plainly that he judges God to be the soul of the world, and this very world to be God; but that, just as a wise man, though he is of soul and body, is yet called wise from the soul, so the world is called God from the soul, though it is of soul and body. Accordingly, the body of the world alone is not God, but either its soul alone, or soul and body together, yet in such a way that it is God not from the body but from the soul.
If, then, Janus is the world and Janus is a god, will they say that Jupiter, in order that he may be a god, is some part of Janus? For they are more wont to attribute the universe to Jove; whence is the saying: All things are full of Jove. Therefore Jupiter also, in order that he may be a god and especially king of the gods, they cannot reckon to be any other than the world, so that, according to them, he may reign over the other gods as over his own parts. To this same opinion the same Varro also expounds certain verses of Valerius Soranus in that book which he wrote separately from these concerning the worship of the gods; which verses are these: Almighty Jupiter, begetter of kings and of things and of gods, and mother of the gods, one god and all. But they are expounded in the same book thus:
Since they held the male to be the one who emits seed and the female the one who receives it, and that Jupiter is the world, and that he emits all seeds from himself and receives them back into himself: 'With good reason,' he says, 'did Soranus write that Jupiter is progenitor and genetrix; and with no less reason that the one and the all are the same; for the world is one, and in that one all things exist.' If, then, both Janus is the world and Jupiter is the world, and there is but one world, why are Janus and Jupiter two gods? Why do they have temples apart, altars apart, different rites, unlike images? If it is because the power of first beginnings is one thing and the power of causes another, and the former received the name of Janus, the latter the name of Jupiter:
if one man should have two powers or two skills in different matters, would he, because the power of each is distinct, therefore be called two judges or two craftsmen? So likewise, though one God himself possess the power over first beginnings and himself the power over causes, is he therefore of necessity to be thought two gods, because first beginnings and causes are two things? But if they hold this to be just, let them then say that Jupiter himself is as many gods as the surnames they have given him on account of his many powers, since all the things from which those surnames are drawn are many and various — of which I recall but a few.
They called him Victor, Invictus, Opitulus, Impulsor, Stator, Centumpeda, Supinalis, Tigillus, Almus, Ruminus, and others which it would be tedious to enumerate. But these surnames they imposed upon one god on account of diverse causes and powers, and yet they did not on account of so many things compel him to be so many gods: because he conquered all things, because he was conquered by none, because he brought help to the needy, because he had the power of driving forward, of halting, of making firm, of laying prostrate, because like a little beam he held together and upheld the world, because he nourished all things, because with the 'ruma,' that is, the teat, he nourished the animals. Among these, as we observe, some are great, some trifling; and yet one and the same is said to do both.
I think the causes of things and their first beginnings are more nearly akin to each other — on account of which they willed the one world to be two gods, Jupiter and Janus — than are the holding together of the world and the giving of the teat to animals; and yet on account of these two works, so widely differing between themselves in power and dignity, they were not forced to be two gods; but one Jupiter was called Tigillus on account of the one, and Ruminus on account of the other. I will not say that to offer the teat to sucking animals might have better befitted Juno than Jupiter — especially since there was also the goddess Rumina, who might lend him aid or service in this task. For I reflect that it could be answered that Juno herself is nothing else than Jupiter, according to those verses of Valerius Soranus, where it is said:
'Jupiter almighty, progenitor and genetrix of kings and things and gods.' Why then was he also called Ruminus, when to those who inquire more diligently he may perhaps be found to be also that goddess Rumina herself? For if it seemed rightly unworthy of the majesty of the gods that in one ear of grain one should attend to the care of the little joint of the stalk and another to that of the husk: how much more unworthy is it that one lowly thing — namely, that animals be nourished at the teat — should be cared for by the power of two gods, of whom one is Jupiter, the very king of all, and that he should do this not even with his own consort, but with some ignoble Rumina or other — unless it be that he himself is also Rumina herself; Ruminus perhaps for the sucking males, Rumina for the females.
I might indeed say that they were unwilling to impose a feminine name on Jupiter, were it not that in those verses he is called 'progenitor and genetrix,' and that among his other surnames I read that he was also called Pecunia (Money) — a goddess whom we find among their lesser deities and mentioned in the fourth book. But since both males and females possess money, why he was not called both Pecunia and Pecunius, just as Rumina and Ruminus, let them see to it. How elegantly, forsooth, they rendered the reason of this name! 'And he is called Pecunia (Money),' he says, 'because all things are his.' O grand reason for a divine name! Nay rather, he whose all things are is most basely and most insultingly styled Money.
For in comparison with all that is contained in heaven and earth, what is money among all things whatsoever that are possessed by men under the name of money? But doubtless it was avarice that imposed this name upon Jupiter, so that whoever loves money might seem to himself to be loving not just any god, but the very king of all. It would be a far different thing, however, if he were called Riches. For riches are one thing, money another. For we call wise, just, and good men rich, though they have no money or but little; for they are rather rich in virtues, through which even in the very necessities of bodily things what they have is enough for them: but we call the covetous poor, ever gaping and needy;
for they may possess money never so great, yet in whatever abundance of it they cannot fail to be in want. And we rightly call the true God himself rich, yet not in money, but in omnipotence. And so the moneyed are called rich; but inwardly they are needy, if they are covetous: likewise those lacking money are called poor; but inwardly they are rich, if they are wise. Of what sort, then, ought this theology to be to a wise man, wherein the king of the gods received the name of that thing 'which no wise man has ever coveted'? For how much more easily, if by this doctrine something were profitably learned that pertained to eternal life, would the god who rules the world be called by them not Money but Wisdom, the love of which purges from the filth of avarice, that is, from the love of money!
But why say more of this Jupiter, to whom perhaps the rest are to be referred, so that the opinion of a multitude of gods may remain empty, since he himself is all of them — whether when they are reckoned his parts or his powers, or when the force of the soul, which they suppose to be diffused through all things, received as it were the names of many gods from the parts of this mass into which this visible world rises up, and from the manifold administration of nature? For what is Saturn too? 'One of the chief gods,' he says, 'in whose keeping is the dominion over all sowings.' Is not the exposition of those verses of Valerius Soranus to this effect, that Jupiter is the world, and that he emits all seeds from himself and receives them back into himself? He, then, it is in whose keeping is the dominion over all sowings.
What is Genius? 'A god,' he says, 'who is set over and has power over all things that are to be begotten.' Whom else do they believe to have this power than the world, to which it was said, 'Jupiter, progenitor and genetrix'? And when in another place he says that a genius is the rational soul of each individual, and therefore there are single ones for single persons, but that such a soul of the world is God: he brings it back to this very same point, namely that the soul of the world itself is to be believed to be, as it were, the universal genius. This, therefore, is he whom they call Jupiter. For if every genius is a god, and every man's soul is a genius, it follows that every man's soul is a god;
but if the very absurdity of this compels even them to shrink from it, it remains that they call singularly and pre-eminently God the Genius whom they call the soul of the world, and thereby Jupiter. But Mercury and Mars they could not find how to refer to any parts of the world and works of God that are in the elements, and therefore they set them at least over the works of men, as ministers of speaking and of waging war. Of these, if Mercury wields power over the speech even of the gods, then he lords it over the very king of the gods too, if Jupiter speaks according to his will, or received from him the faculty of speaking; which is surely absurd.
But if to him is ascribed power over human speech only, it is not credible that Jupiter should have been willing to descend to suckling with the teat not only children but also cattle — whence he was surnamed Ruminus — and yet should have been unwilling that the care of our speech, whereby we excel the cattle, should pertain to him; and thus one and the same is Jupiter and Mercury. But if speech itself is said to be Mercury, as those things which they interpret concerning him show (for he is said to be called Mercury as it were 'medius currens' — running between — because speech runs midway between men; hence Hermes in Greek, because speech, or interpretation, which surely pertains to speech, is called hermeneia;
hence too he presides over merchandise, because between sellers and buyers speech passes as a go-between; the wings on his head and feet signify that speech is borne winged through the air; he is called a messenger, because through speech all thoughts are announced — if, then, Mercury is speech itself, then even by their own confession he is not a god. But when they make gods for themselves of those who are not even demons, by supplicating unclean spirits they become possessed by those who are not gods but demons. Likewise, because they could not find for Mars either any element or part of the world where he might do works of nature of whatever sort, they said he was the god of war, which is a work of men, and not a thing to be desired. If, therefore, Felicity should give perpetual peace, Mars would have nothing to do.
But if war itself is Mars, as speech is Mercury: would that, as it is manifest that he is not a god, so likewise there might be no war, which is even falsely called a god. Unless perchance these gods are those stars which they have called by their names. For a certain star they call Mercury, and likewise a certain one Mars. But there also is that one which they call Jupiter, and yet to them the world is Jupiter; there is the one they call Saturn, and yet to him they besides assign no small substance, namely of all seeds; there too is that most brilliant of all, which is called by them Venus, and yet they hold this same Venus to be also the Moon; although concerning that most resplendent star Juno and Venus contend among them as over a golden apple.
For Lucifer (the morning star) some say belongs to Venus, some to Juno; but, as is usual, Venus prevails. For far more attribute that star to Venus, so that scarcely any of them is found who thinks otherwise. But who would not laugh, when they call Jupiter the king of all, seeing that his star is surpassed in brilliance by so great a degree by the star of Venus? For it ought to have been more resplendent than the rest by as much as he himself is more powerful. They reply that it seems so because that star which is thought dimmer is higher and far more remote from the earth. If, then, a greater dignity has merited a higher place, why is Saturn there higher than Jupiter?
Or could the vanity of the fable, which makes Jupiter king, not reach even to the stars, and was Saturn — who could not prevail in his own kingdom nor in the Capitol — at least permitted to hold sway in heaven? But why did Janus not receive some star? If it be because he is the world and all are in him: Jupiter's too is the world, and yet he has one. Or did the fellow arrange his own case as best he could, and in place of the one star which he does not have among the constellations, receive so many faces on earth? Then, if it is only on account of the stars that they suppose Mercury and Mars to be parts of the world — that they might be able to hold them as gods, since speech and war are surely not parts of the world but acts of men:
why for Aries and Taurus and Cancer and Scorpio and the rest of this kind, which they count as celestial signs and which consist not of single stars but each of several, and which they declare to be placed higher than these in the summit of heaven, where a more constant motion affords the stars an unwandering course — why for these did they make no altars, no rites, no temples, nor hold them as gods, not, I say, among these select ones, but not even among those, as it were, plebeian ones?
Although they would have Apollo to be a diviner and physician, yet in order to place him in some part of the world, they said he was also the sun itself; and Diana his sister they likewise made the moon and the guardian of ways (whence they also would have her a virgin, because a way brings forth nothing); and therefore both have arrows, because these two heavenly bodies stretch their rays from heaven all the way to the earth. Vulcan they would have to be the fire of the world, Neptune the waters of the world, the father Vitis — that is, Orcus — the earthly and lowest part of the world. Liber and Ceres they set over seeds, the one over the masculine, the other over the feminine; or the one over the moisture, the other over the dryness of seeds.
And all this, of course, is referred wholly to the world, that is, to Jupiter, who was for that reason called 'progenitor and genetrix,' because he emits all seeds from himself and receives them back into himself. Since indeed they would have the same Ceres to be also the Great Mother, whom they say is nothing else than the earth, and they hold her to be Juno as well, and therefore assign to her the secondary causes of things, although to Jupiter it was said 'progenitor and genetrix of the gods,' because according to them the whole world itself is Jupiter's; Minerva too, because they set her over human arts and could not find even a star where they might place her, they said was either the highest aether or even the moon.
Vesta too they for that reason held to be the greatest of goddesses, because she is the earth herself; although they believed that the lighter fire of the world — which pertains to the easy uses of men, and not the more violent, such as is Vulcan's — was to be assigned to her. And by all this they would have all these select gods to be this world: in some cases the whole, in some cases parts of it — the whole, as Jupiter; parts of it, as Genius, as the Great Mother, as the Sun and Moon, or rather Apollo and Diana. And sometimes they make one god many things, sometimes one thing many gods. For one god is many things, as Jupiter himself; for the whole world is held and called Jupiter, and heaven alone is Jupiter, and a single star alone is held and called Jupiter;
and likewise Juno is the mistress of secondary causes, and Juno is the air, and Juno is the earth, and, if she should prevail over Venus, Juno is the star. Similarly Minerva is the highest aether, and Minerva is likewise the moon, which they suppose to be at the lowest limit of the aether. But they make one thing many gods thus: both Janus is the world and Jupiter is; so too Juno is the earth and the Great Mother and Ceres. And just as these things which I have mentioned by way of example, so they do not explain the rest but rather entangle it; as the impulse of a wandering opinion has driven them, so hither and thither, this way and that, they leap in and leap back, so that Varro himself preferred to doubt of everything rather than to affirm anything.
For of the last three books, having finished the first concerning the certain gods, when he had entered upon speaking of the uncertain gods in the second, he says: 'Since in this little book I shall set down doubtful opinions concerning the gods, I ought not to be blamed. For whoever shall think that judgment ought and can be passed, when he has heard, will do it himself. I can more readily be brought to call into doubt what I said in the first book, than to direct toward some sum-total all that I shall write down in this one.' Thus he made uncertain not only this book concerning the uncertain gods, but also that one concerning the certain.
Moreover, in this third book concerning the select gods, after he had prefaced what he thought ought to be prefaced from natural theology, being about to enter upon the vanities and lying insanities of this civil theology, where not only did the truth of things not lead him, but even the authority of his forefathers pressed upon him, he says: 'Concerning the public gods of the Roman people, to whom they dedicated shrines and marked them out adorned with many statues, I shall write in this book — but, as Xenophanes of Colophon writes, I shall set down what I think, not what I would maintain. For it belongs to man to hold such opinions, to God to know.' Trembling, therefore, he promises a discourse of things not comprehended nor most firmly believed, but merely opined and to be doubted, being about to speak of those things which were instituted by men.
For not as he knew that the world exists, that heaven and earth exist, heaven gleaming with stars, earth fertile with seeds, and other such things, and just as he believed with a firm steadfastness of mind that this whole mass and nature is ruled and administered by a certain invisible and all-powerful force — so could he not affirm concerning Janus that he was the world itself, nor discover concerning Saturn how he was both the father of Jupiter and made subject to Jupiter's reign, and other such things.
Concerning these things a more credible account is given when they are declared to have been men, and to each of them, by those who wished them to be gods by flattery, out of his character, morals, deeds, and fortunes sacred and solemn rites were established — and these, gradually creeping in through the souls of men, who are like the demons and greedy of frivolous things, were spread far and wide, the lies of poets adorning them and deceitful spirits seducing men toward them. For it could more easily have come to pass that an impious youth, fearing to be slain by an impious father and greedy of kingship, should have driven his father from the kingdom, than that which this man interprets — namely that Saturn the father was overcome by Jupiter the son because the cause, which pertains to Jupiter, is prior to the seed, which pertains to Saturn.
For if this were so, Saturn would never have been prior, nor would he be the father of Jupiter. For the seed always precedes the cause — no, the cause precedes the seed, and is never begotten of the seed. But when they endeavor to honor most empty fables, or the deeds of men, with as it were natural interpretations, even the most acute men suffer such straits that we are compelled to grieve over their vanity too. 'They said,' he tells us, 'that Saturn was wont to devour what was born of him, because the seeds return to the place whence they were born. And that a clod was cast to him to be devoured in place of Jupiter, signifies,' he says, 'that when men began to sow, the fruits were covered over by human hands before the usefulness of plowing was discovered.' Saturn, then, ought to have been called the earth itself, not the seeds;
for it is she who in a certain manner devours what she has begotten, since the seeds born of her return to be received back into her. And as for his being said to have received a clod in place of Jupiter, what does this avail toward the fact that the seed was covered with a clod by the hands of men? Was it therefore not, like the rest, devoured, because it was covered with a clod? For this is stated as though he who set the clod against it had taken away the seed — just as they report that when the clod was offered to Saturn, Jupiter was taken away — and not rather that the clod, by covering the seed, made it be devoured the more diligently. Then in this way the seed is Jupiter, not the cause of the seed, as was being said a little before. But what are men to do who, when they interpret foolish things, do not find what may be said wisely?
'He has a sickle,' he says, 'on account of agriculture.' Surely during his reign there was as yet no agriculture, and therefore his earlier times are spoken of, as this same man interprets the little fables, because the first men lived on those seeds which the earth brought forth of its own accord. Or did he receive a sickle after losing his scepter, so that he who in the first times had been an idle king, when his son reigned, might become a toilsome laborer? Then he says that by some, boys were wont to be sacrificed to him, as by the Carthaginians, and by some even grown men, as by the Gauls, because of all seeds the best kind is the human race. Of this most cruel vanity what need is there to say more?
Let us rather observe and hold fast to this: that these interpretations are not to be referred to the true God, the living, incorporeal, and unchangeable nature, from whom eternal blessed life is to be sought; but that their ends lie in things corporeal, temporal, changeable, and mortal. 'That Saturn is said in the fables to have castrated his father Heaven,' he says, 'signifies that the divine seed is in Saturn's keeping, not in Heaven's.' This is so, as far as can be understood, because nothing is born in the heaven from seeds. But lo — if Saturn is the son of Heaven, he is the son of Jupiter. For they affirm innumerable times and diligently that Jupiter is Heaven. Thus these things, which do not come from the truth, for the most part overthrow themselves with none to push them.
He says he was called Chronos, which by a Greek word signifies a span of time, without which, he says, seed cannot be fruitful. These and many other things are said concerning Saturn, and all are referred to seed. But at least Saturn, with such great power as this, would suffice for seeds; what need is there for other gods besides toward these matters, especially Liber and Libera, that is, Ceres? Concerning whom again, so far as pertains to seed, he says as much as if he had said nothing of Saturn. But in the rites of Ceres those Eleusinian mysteries are celebrated, which among the Athenians were the most renowned. Of these this man interprets nothing, save what pertains to the grain which Ceres discovered, and to Proserpine, whom she lost when Orcus carried her off;
and this very Proserpine, he says, signifies the fecundity of seeds; which, when at a certain time it had been lacking and the earth mourned with that same barrenness, there arose the opinion that Orcus had carried off the daughter of Ceres — that is, fecundity itself, which was called Proserpine from 'creeping forth' (proserpere) — and had detained her among the dead; and since this matter had been solemnized with public mourning, then, because that same fecundity returned, joy arose at Proserpine's restoration, and from this solemn rites were established. He says, moreover, that many things are handed down in her mysteries which pertain to nothing but the discovery of crops.
But now, to what depth of foulness the rites of Liber have descended — whom they set over the liquid seeds, and thereby not only over the juices of fruits, of which wine in a certain manner holds the primacy, but also over the seeds of animals — it irks me indeed to tell, on account of the length of the discourse; but on account of the proud dullness of these men it irks me not. Among other things, which I am forced to pass over since they are many, he says that in the crossroads of Italy certain rites of Liber were celebrated with such license of foulness that in his honor the shameful male parts were worshiped — not even with any somewhat more modest secrecy, but with wantonness exulting in the open.
For this shameful member, during the festival days of Liber, was placed with great honor upon little carts and carried about, first in the country at the crossroads, and afterward even into the city. But in the town of Lavinium a whole month was assigned to Liber, during whose days all used the most disgraceful words, until that member had been carried across the forum and came to rest in its own place. Upon this dishonorable member it was necessary for a most honorable matron publicly to place a crown. Thus, forsooth, the god Liber had to be appeased for the success of the seeds; thus was enchantment to be driven off from the fields — so that a matron was compelled to do in public what not even a harlot should have been permitted to do in the theater, if matrons were looking on.
On account of these things Saturn alone was not believed able to suffice for the seeds, so that the unclean soul might find occasions for multiplying gods, and — deservedly forsaken by the one true God because of its uncleanness, and prostituted through many false gods out of a greed for greater uncleanness — might name these sacrileges as sacred rites, and might offer itself to be violated and polluted by the throngs of filthy demons. Now surely Neptune already had Salacia as his wife, whom they said to be the lower water of the sea: to what end was Venilia also joined to him, unless that, without any cause of necessary rites, by the mere lust of a prostituted soul, the inviting of demons might be multiplied?
But let the interpretation of that illustrious theology be brought forth, which by the reason it renders may check us from this reproach. 'Venilia,' he says, 'is the wave which comes to the shore; Salacia, that which returns to the deep.' Why, then, are two goddesses made, when it is one wave that comes and returns? Assuredly it is the very lust, boiling over into many divinities, that is mad. For although the water is not doubled which goes and returns, yet by occasion of this vanity, with two demons invited, the soul is the more befouled — the soul which goes and does not return.
I beseech you, Varro, or you others who have read such writings of men so learned and boast that you have learned something great — interpret this for me: I will not say according to that eternal and unchangeable nature, who alone is God, but at least according to the soul of the world and its parts, which you suppose to be true gods. That you have made Neptune a god for us — the part of the soul of the world that pervades the sea — is an error of a more or less tolerable kind. Are then the wave coming to the shore and returning to the deep two parts of the world, or two parts of the soul of the world? Who among you is so foolish as to think this wise?
Why, then, did they make you two goddesses, unless because it was provided by your wise forefathers, not that more gods should rule you, but that more demons — which rejoice in these vanities and falsehoods — should possess you? But why did that Salacia, by this interpretation, lose the lower part of the sea, in which she was subject to her husband? For just now, when you declare her to be the refluent wave, you placed her on the surface. Or was it because he took Venilia as a concubine that, enraged, she shut out her own husband from the upper regions of the sea? Surely there is one earth, which indeed Ditanus filled with his own evils, yet is itself a great body among the elements and the lowest part of the world. Why do they will her to be a goddess? Is it because she is fertile?
Why, then, are not rather those men gods who make her more fertile by cultivation — but when they plow, not when they adore? But, they say, the part of the soul of the world which pervades her makes her a goddess. As though the soul were not more evident in men — concerning which it is no question whether it exists; and yet men are not held to be gods, and, what is grievously to be lamented, they are by a wonderful and wretched error made subject to worshiping and adoring those who are not gods and than whom they themselves are better. And certainly the same Varro, in the same book on the select gods, affirms that there are three grades of soul in all and the whole of nature: one which passes through all the parts of the body that live and has no sensation, but only the vital vigor for living;
this force, he says, permeates in our body into the bones, nails, and hair; just as in the world trees are nourished without sensation and grow and in a certain manner of their own live: the second grade of soul, in which there is sensation; this force reaches into the eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth, and touch: the third grade is the highest of soul, which is called the mind (animus), in which intelligence pre-eminently resides; of this all mortals except man are devoid. This part of the soul of the world, he says, is God, but in us it is called Genius. And there are in the world stones and the earth which we see, into which sensation does not permeate, like the bones and nails of God; but the sun, moon, and stars, which we perceive and by which he himself perceives, are his senses; and the aether, moreover, is his mind;
the force of which, when it reaches into the heavenly bodies, makes those too gods, and through that part of it which permeates into the earth, makes the goddess Tellus; but that which thence permeates into the sea and ocean, is the god Neptune. Let him, therefore, return from this which he supposes to be natural theology — into which, as though for the sake of rest, wearied, he had gone out from these circuitous windings and turnings; let him return, I say, let him return to the civil theology; here I still hold him, meanwhile I deal with this. I do not yet say that, if earth and stones are like our bones and nails, they likewise have no intelligence, just as they lack sensation;
Or, if our bones and nails are said to possess intelligence for the reason that they exist within a man who possesses intelligence, then he who calls these things gods within the world is as foolish as the man who calls the bones and nails within us human beings. But such matters must perhaps be argued with the philosophers; for the present, however, I wish to keep to this man as a political theologian. For it may well be that, although he seems to have wished to lift his head up a little, as it were, into that liberty of natural theology, yet, still turning over this present book and thinking himself engaged within it, he glanced back to it from there and said this for the very purpose that his ancestors, or other states, might not be believed to have worshipped Earth and Neptune in vain. But this is what I say:
if that part of the world-soul which pervades the earth, being one thing just as the earth is one, why did he not also make it one goddess, whom he calls Tellus? But if he did so, where will Orcus be, the brother of Jupiter and Neptune, whom they call Father Dis? Where will his consort Proserpina be, who, according to another opinion set down in these same books, is held to be not the fertility of the earth but its lower part? For if they say that the part of the world-soul, when it pervades the upper part of the earth, makes the god Father Dis, but when it pervades the lower, makes the goddess Proserpina, then what will that Tellus be? For thus the whole of what she herself was has been divided into these two parts and gods, so that one cannot find what the third one, she herself, is, or where she is;
unless someone should say that these gods together, Orcus and Proserpina, are the one goddess Tellus, and that they are not now three, but either one or two; and yet they are called three, are held to be three, are worshipped with their own altars, their own shrines, rites, images, and priests, and through these things also with their own deceiving demons who defile the prostituted soul. Let it further be answered: what part of the earth does the part of the world-soul pervade so as to make the god Tellumo? 'No part,' he says, 'but one and the same earth possesses a twofold power, both masculine, in that it produces seeds, and feminine, in that it receives and nourishes them; hence from the power of the female it was called Tellus, from that of the male, Tellumo.'
Why then do the pontiffs, as he himself indicates, perform the divine rite to four gods by adding two others as well, namely to Tellus, Tellumo, Altor, and Rusor? Of Tellus and Tellumo it has already been spoken. Why to Altor? 'Because,' he says, 'all things that are born are nourished from the earth.' Why to Rusor? 'Because,' he says, 'all things roll back again to the same place.' Therefore the one earth ought, on account of this fourfold power, to have had four surnames, not to have made four gods; just as one Jupiter has so many surnames and one Juno so many surnames, in all of which a manifold power is said to belong to the one god or the one goddess, the multitude of surnames not also producing a multitude of gods.
But surely, just as sometimes even the vilest women grow weary and repent of the very crowds whom they have sought out through lust, so the soul, made vile and prostituted to unclean spirits, sometimes felt both pleasure and afterward disgust at multiplying gods for itself before whom it might prostrate itself to be defiled, as much as it pleased. For even Varro himself, as though ashamed of that very crowd, wishes Tellus to be one goddess. 'The same,' he says, 'they call the Great Mother; because she has a tympanum, it signifies that she is the orb of the earth; because she has towers upon her head, cities; because she is fashioned sitting, that, while all things move around her, she herself does not move. That they made Galli to serve this goddess signifies that those who lack seed ought to follow the earth; for in her indeed all things are found.'
'That they fling themselves about before her,' he says, 'is a precept for those who till the earth, that they should not sit still; for there is always something to be done. The clash of cymbals signifies the sound made by the throwing about of iron tools and of hands, and the clatter of that work in tilling the field; therefore of bronze, because the ancients used to till with bronze before iron was invented. The lion,' he says, 'they attach to her, unbound and tamed, in order to show that no kind of soil is so remote and violently wild that it is not fitting to be subdued and cultivated.' Then he adds and says that Mother Tellus, because they named her by many names and surnames, was reckoned to be several gods. 'Tellus,' he says, 'they think to be Ops, because she is made better by labor (opus); Mother, because she brings forth very much; Great, because she brings forth food;
Proserpina, because the crops creep forth (proserpant) from her; Vesta, because she is clothed with plants. Thus,' he says, 'they refer other goddesses to her, not absurdly.' If, then, she is one goddess—who indeed, when the truth is consulted, is not even a goddess at all—why meanwhile do they proceed to many? Let these many be the divine powers of one being, not so much many goddesses as many names. But the authority of the erring ancestors weighs him down and compels the same Varro to waver after this opinion. For he adds and says: 'The opinion of the ancestors about these goddesses, in that they thought there were several of them, is not at odds with this.' How is it not at odds, when it is a very different thing for one goddess to have many names and for there to be many goddesses?
'But it can happen,' he says, 'that the same thing be both one, and yet in it there be several things.' I grant that in one man there are several things; are there therefore also several men? So in one goddess there are several things; are there therefore also several goddesses? But let them, as they please, divide, fuse, multiply, fold and refold and entangle. These are the illustrious mysteries of Tellus and the Great Mother, whence all things are referred to mortal seeds and the practice of agriculture. Is it, then, that the tympanum, the towers, the Galli, the mad tossing of limbs, the clash of cymbals, the fashioning of lions—things referred to these ends and having this purpose—promise anyone eternal life?
Is it, then, for this reason that the emasculated Galli serve this Great goddess, namely to signify that those who lack seed ought to follow the earth—as though it were not rather that very servitude which makes them lack seed? For do they, by following this goddess, acquire seed when they lack it, or rather, by following this goddess, do they lose the seed they had? Is this to interpret, or to detest? Nor is it noticed how far the malicious demons prevailed, who neither dared promise anything great by these rites, and yet were able to exact things so cruel. If the earth were not a goddess, men would lay hands upon it by their labor, that they might obtain seeds through it, and would not also rage against themselves so as to lose their seed for its sake;
if she were not a goddess, she would become so fertile by others' hands that she would not compel a man to become barren by his own hands. As for the fact that in the rites of Liber an honorable matron used to crown the shameful male member in the sight of a multitude, where, blushing and sweating—if there is any shame at all in men—her husband too perhaps stood by; and that in the celebration of nuptials the new bride was bidden to sit upon the shaft of Priapus: these are far more contemptible and trifling in comparison with this cruelest baseness, or basest cruelty, where by demonic rites both sexes are so mocked that neither is destroyed by its own wound. There the bewitching of the fields is feared; here the amputation of members is not feared.
There the modesty of the new bride is so dishonored that not only her fertility, but not even her virginity is taken away; here manhood is so amputated that the man is neither turned into a woman nor left a man. And that Attis was not mentioned, nor was any interpretation of him sought by this man—Attis, in memory of whose love the Gallus is emasculated. But the learned and wise Greeks by no means kept silent about a reason so holy and illustrious. For on account of the vernal face of the earth, which is more beautiful than at other seasons, Porphyry, a noble philosopher, declared that Attis signifies flowers, and that he was therefore emasculated because the flower falls before the fruit.
Therefore it was not the man himself, or the quasi-man, who was called Attis, but his male organs that they compared to the flower. For those organs fell off while he still lived; nay rather, they did not fall off, nor were they merely plucked, but plainly torn asunder; and when that flower was lost, no fruit afterward followed, but rather barrenness ensued. What then is the remainder of him, and whatever remained after the emasculated one? What is it said to signify? To what is it referred? What interpretation is brought forth from it? Or do they, by laboring at this in vain and finding nothing, persuade us that we should rather believe what rumor spread abroad and committed to writing concerning a castrated man? Deservedly did our Varro turn away from this and was unwilling to say it; for it did not escape so most learned a man.
Likewise concerning the effeminates consecrated to the same Great Mother against all shame of men and women, who even up to yesterday, with dripping hair, faces whitened, limbs languishing, and a womanish gait, went through the streets and lanes of Carthage demanding from the shopkeepers the means whereby to live shamefully—concerning these, Varro was unwilling to say anything, nor do I recall having read of it anywhere. Interpretation failed, reason blushed, speech fell silent. The Great Mother surpassed all the gods her sons, not by the greatness of her divinity, but by the greatness of her crime. To this monstrosity not even the monstrosity of Janus is to be compared. He in his images had only deformity; she in her rites had deformed cruelty; he had members added in stone, she had members destroyed in men.
This disgrace not even the many and so great debaucheries of Jupiter himself surpass. He, amid his corruptions of women, disgraced heaven with the single Ganymede; she, with so many effeminates avowed and public, both defiled the earth and did injury to heaven. Saturn perhaps we might, in this kind of most base cruelty, either compare or prefer to her, he who is said to have castrated his father; but in the rites of Saturn men could be slain by others' hands rather than emasculate themselves by their own. He devoured his sons, as the poets relate, and the natural philosophers interpret this as they please; but as history sets forth, he killed them; yet that the Carthaginians sacrificed their own sons to him, the Romans did not accept.
But indeed this Great Mother of the gods brought castrated men even into Roman temples and preserved this savagery and custom, being believed to aid the strength of the Romans by cutting off the manhood of men. What, compared to this evil, are the thefts of Mercury, the wantonness of Venus, the debaucheries and basenesses of the rest, which we might bring forward from books, were they not daily sung and danced in the theaters? But what are these compared to so great an evil, whose magnitude befitted the Great Mother alone? Especially since those things are said by the poets to be fabricated, as though the poets had also invented this—that these things are pleasing and acceptable to the gods. That they might therefore be sung or written, let it be the boldness or wantonness of the poets;
but that they should be added to divine rites and honors at the command and extortion of these very divine powers—what is this but the crime of the gods, nay rather the confession of the demons and the deception of the wretched? As for that other thing, that the Mother of the gods deserved to be worshipped by the consecration of castrated men, the poets did not fabricate it, but chose rather to shudder at it than to sing of it. Is anyone to be consecrated to these select gods, that after death he may live blessedly, to whom, being consecrated before death, he cannot live honorably, subjected as he is to superstitions so foul and bound to unclean demons? But 'all these things,' he says, 'are referred to the world.' Let him see whether they are not rather referred to the unclean. And what cannot be referred to the world, which is shown to exist in the world?
But we seek that soul which, trusting in true religion, does not adore the world as its god, but praises the world as the work of God for God's sake, and, cleansed from worldly filth, comes pure to God who founded the world. As for those select gods, we see indeed that they became more famously known than the rest, not, however, that their merits might be made illustrious, but that their disgraces might not be concealed; whence it is the more credible that they were men, as not only the poetic writings but also the historical have handed down. For as to what Virgil says:
'First from ethereal Olympus came Saturn, fleeing the arms of Jupiter and an exile from his realms taken away,' and the verses that follow pertaining to this matter—the whole history of this Euhemerus lays open, which Ennius translated into Latin speech; and since those who wrote before us against errors of this kind, whether in Greek or in Latin discourse, set down very much, it did not please me to linger on it. When I consider those very physiologies by which learned and acute men attempt to turn these human affairs into divine, I see nothing but that they could be reduced to temporal and earthly works and to corporeal nature, or even, though invisible, yet mutable nature; which is in no way the true God.
But if at least this were done with significations befitting religiousness, it would indeed be a thing to be grieved over, that the true God is not proclaimed and preached by these; yet it would in some measure be bearable, that things so foul and base were not done nor commanded. But now, when to worship either body or soul in place of the true God—by whom alone, dwelling within the soul, it becomes blessed—is impious, how much more nefarious is it to worship these things in such a way that the body or soul of the worshipper obtains neither salvation nor human dignity! Wherefore, if by temple, priest, and sacrifice, which are owed to the true God, some element of the world or some created spirit be worshipped, even if it be not unclean and evil:
it is not evil for the reason that those things by which He is worshipped are evil, but because those things are of such a kind that by them He alone ought to be worshipped, to whom such worship and service are owed. But if by the stolidity or monstrosity of images, by sacrifices of murders, by the crowning of male shameful parts, by the wage of debaucheries, by the cutting of members, by the amputation of genitals, by the consecration of effeminates, by the festivals of impure and obscene games, anyone should strive to worship the one true God, that is, the creator of every soul and body—he sins not for the reason that the one he worships ought not to be worshipped, but because he worships the one who ought to be worshipped in a manner in which He ought not to be worshipped.
But he who worships both by such things—that is, by base and wicked things—and worships not the true God, that is, the maker of soul and body, but a creature, however not vicious, whether it be soul or body or soul and body together, sins twice against God: both because he worships in place of Him what is not Himself, and because he worships with such things as neither He Himself ought to be worshipped with nor what is not Himself. As for the manner in which these men worshipped—that is, how basely and nefariously—it is plain; but what or whom they worshipped would be obscure, were it not that their own history testifies to those very things which they confess to be foul and base, rendered to divine powers that terribly demand them;
whence, all ambiguities removed, it is established that nefarious demons and most unclean spirits were invited by all this civil theology to inhabit stolid images and, through them, to possess even the foolish hearts of men. What, then, does it avail that Varro, a most learned and acute man, attempts by a seemingly subtle disputation to reduce and refer all these gods to heaven and earth? He cannot; they flow out of his hands, they leap back, they slip and fall down. For, about to speak of the females, that is, the goddesses, he says: 'Since, as I said in the first book concerning places, there are two principles of the gods observed, from heaven and earth, from which the gods are called partly celestial, partly terrestrial:
as in the earlier books we made a beginning from heaven, when we spoke of Janus, whom some said to be heaven, others the world, so concerning the females we make the beginning of our writing from Tellus.' I perceive how great a difficulty so great a genius suffers. For he is led by a certain plausible reasoning: that heaven is that which acts, earth that which is acted upon, and therefore he attributes masculine power to the former, feminine to the latter, and does not consider that He is rather the one who does these things, who made both. Hence he likewise interprets the noble mysteries of the Samothracians in the earlier book, and promises, most religiously as it were, that he will expound in writing and send to them those things which are not even known to their own people.
For he says that he there gathered from many indications that in the images one thing signifies heaven, another earth, another the exemplars of things which Plato calls ideas; he wishes heaven to be understood as Jupiter, earth as Juno, and the ideas as Minerva—heaven as that by which something is made, earth as that from which it is made, the exemplar as that according to which it is made. In which matter I forbear to say that Plato says those ideas have such great power that it is according to them that heaven made not something, but even that heaven itself was made. This I say: that this man in this book of select gods lost that principle of the three gods by which he embraced all things, as it were. For to heaven he attributed the male gods, to earth the females; among whom he placed Minerva, whom he had before placed above heaven itself.
Then the male god Neptune is in the sea, which pertains rather to the earth than to heaven. Finally Dis Pater, who in Greek is called Pluto, being himself also male and a brother of the two, is held to be a terrestrial god, holding the upper earth, and having in the lower his consort Proserpina. In what way, then, do they attempt to refer the gods to heaven, the goddesses to earth? What solid, what constant, what sober, what definite thing does this disputation have? But that Tellus is the beginning of the goddesses, namely the Great Mother, in whose presence the mad baseness of the effeminate and the castrated, cutting and tossing themselves about, resounds. What, then, is the meaning of the saying that Janus is the head of the gods, Tellus the head of the goddesses? Error makes no single head there, nor does frenzy make a sound one here.
Why do they strive in vain to refer these things to the world? For even if they could, no pious man worships the world in place of the true God; and yet the manifest truth convinces them that they cannot do even this. Let them rather refer these things to dead men and to the worst demons, and no question will remain. For all those things which are referred by them, out of the theology of these gods, as it were by physical reasons, to the world—how, without any scruple of sacrilegious opinion, they may rather be attributed to the true God, who made the world, the founder of every soul and every body—let us observe in this way: We worship God, not heaven and earth, of which two parts this world consists;
nor do we worship the soul or souls diffused through whatever living things, but God, who made heaven and earth and all things that are in them; who made every soul, whether living in whatever manner and destitute of sense and reason, or even sentient, or even understanding. And, that I may now begin to run through those works of the one and true God, on account of which these men, while they attempt as it were honorably to interpret the most base and wicked rites, made for themselves many false gods: we worship that God who has established for the natures created by Him the beginnings and ends both of subsisting and of moving; who holds, knows, and disposes the causes of things; who founded the power of seeds;
who gave a rational soul, which is called mind (animus), to whatever living things He willed; who bestowed the faculty and use of speech; who imparted the gift of foretelling the future to whatever spirits He pleased, and through whom He pleases foretells the future Himself, and through whom He pleases drives away sicknesses; who moderates the beginnings, progressions, and ends of wars themselves, when the human race is thus to be amended and chastised; who both created and rules this world's most vehement and most violent fire in proportion to the temperament of the immense nature; who is the creator and governor of all waters; who made the sun, the brightest of corporeal lights, and gave it a power suited to it and motion;
who does not withdraw His dominion and power even from the very regions below; who supplies the seeds and nourishments of mortal creatures, whether dry or liquid, allotted to their fitting natures; who lays the foundation of the earth and makes it fruitful; who lavishes its fruits upon animals and men; who knows and orders causes not only principal but also subsequent; who appointed to the moon its own measure; who provides the celestial and terrestrial ways by changes of place; who granted to human minds, which He created, even the sciences of various arts for the aid of life and nature; who instituted the union of male and female for the aid of propagating offspring;
who granted to the assemblies of men, for their easiest uses, the gift of earthly fire to apply to their hearths and lights. These, to be sure, are the things which Varro, a most acute and learned man, labored to distribute among the select gods through I know not what physical interpretations, whether things he received from elsewhere or things he himself conjectured. But these things the one true God does and performs—yet as God, that is, everywhere whole, enclosed in no places, bound by no bonds, divisible into no parts, mutable in no part, filling heaven and earth with present power, not with needy nature. And so He administers all things which He created in such a way that He also allows them to exert and carry on their own proper motions.
For although they can be nothing without Him, they are not what He is. Moreover, He performs many things also through angels; but He beatifies the angels from none other than Himself. Thus, although for certain causes He sends angels to men, yet He beatifies men not from the angels, but from Himself, just as He does the angels. From this one and true God we hope for eternal life. For we have from Him, besides benefits of this kind which, from that administration of nature of which we have said some things, He lavishes upon good and evil alike, a great token and one proper to the good—a token of His great love.
For although the fact that we exist, that we live, that we behold heaven and earth, that we possess mind and reason by which to seek out Him who created all these things, is such that we can in no way suffice for the giving of thanks:
yet the fact that, when we were burdened and overwhelmed with sins, turned away from the contemplation of His light, and blinded by the love of darkness, that is, of iniquity, He did not utterly forsake us, but sent to us His Word, who is His only Son, that by His being born for us, with flesh assumed, and by His suffering, we might come to know how highly God valued man, and by that singular sacrifice might be cleansed from all sins, and, His love being poured abroad in our hearts by His Spirit, might, all difficulties overcome, come into eternal rest and the ineffable sweetness of His contemplation—what hearts, how many tongues, could contend that they are enough for the giving of thanks to Him?
This mystery of eternal life was, even from the very beginning of the human race, preached through the angels by means of certain signs and sacraments suited to the times, as was fitting. Then the Hebrew people was gathered into one commonwealth, which might enact this sacrament, where, through some who knew and some who did not know, that which is being enacted from the coming of Christ up to now and thenceforth might be foretold as about to come; and afterward that same people was scattered among the nations, on account of the testimony of the Scriptures, in which eternal salvation in Christ was foretold as future.
For all things—not only the prophecies which are in words, nor only the precepts of life which shape morals and piety and are contained in those writings, but also the sacred things, priesthoods, the tabernacle or temple, the altars, sacrifices, ceremonies, feast days, and whatever else pertains to that service which is owed to God and is properly called in Greek latreia—all these things were signified and foretold as those which we believe to have been fulfilled, on account of the eternal life of the faithful in Christ, and which we discern to be fulfilled, and which we are confident will be fulfilled.
Through this one and true religion, therefore, it could be laid open that the gods of the nations are most unclean demons, desiring, under the occasions of departed souls or under the appearance of worldly creatures, to be thought gods, and, as it were, rejoicing with proud impurity in divine honors and in those same wicked and base things, and envying human souls their conversion to the true God. From whose most monstrous and most impious domination man is set free when he believes in Him who furnished, for the rising up, an example of such great humility as was the pride by which those demons fell.
Hence there are not only those of whom we have already said much, and others and yet others like them of the remaining nations and lands, but also these of whom we now treat, as though selected into a senate of gods; yet plainly selected by the nobility of their crimes, not by the dignity of their virtues. Whose rites, while Varro attempts to refer them, as it were, to natural reasons, seeking to make base things honorable, he cannot find how they may square and be in harmony with these, since those are not the actual causes of those rites which he thinks, or rather wishes to be thought.
For if not only these very causes, but also any others whatever of this kind existed, although they pertained in nothing to the true God and to eternal life, which is to be sought in religion, yet by some reason rendered from the nature of things they would somewhat mitigate the offense which some seeming baseness or absurdity, not understood in the rites, had caused; just as he attempted to do in certain fables of the theaters or mysteries of the shrines, where he did not absolve the theaters by the likeness of the shrines, but rather condemned the shrines by the likeness of the theaters; yet he attempted, in whatever way, that a reason rendered as it were of natural causes might soothe the sense offended by horrible things.
But on the contrary we find, as that most learned man himself has related, that the causes of the sacred rites rendered from the books of Numa Pompilius could in no way be tolerated, nor were they deemed worthy that, being not only read, they should become known to the religious, but that, having at least been written, they should be hidden away in darkness. For now I shall say what in the third book of this work I had promised I would say in its proper place. For, as one reads in the same Varro in the book On the Worship of the Gods, 'A certain Terentius, having an estate at the Janiculum, and his plowman, driving the plow near the tomb of Numa Pompilius, having dug up out of the earth his books in which were written the causes of the sacred institutions, carried them into the City to the praetor.'
'But he, when he had inspected the opening portions, brought so great a matter before the senate. There, when the leading men had read certain of the causes why each thing had been instituted in the sacred rites, the senate assented to the dead Numa, and, like religious conscript fathers, decreed that the praetor should burn those books.' Let each believe what he thinks; nay rather, let any distinguished defender of so great an impiety say what raving contentiousness has suggested ought to be said.
Let it suffice for me to point out that the reasons for the sacred rites, set down in writing by King Pompilius, the founder of the Romans' rites, ought not to have been made known either to the people, or to the senate, or even to the priests themselves; and that Numa Pompilius himself, by an unlawful curiosity, arrived at those secrets of the demons which he indeed wrote down, so that he might have a source from which, by reading, he could be reminded. Yet, being king, one who feared no man at all, he dared neither to teach these things to anyone, nor to destroy them by erasing or by consuming them in any way whatever. Thus, what he willed that no one should know, lest he teach men wicked things, and yet feared to violate, lest he render the demons angry, he buried in the place he thought safe, not believing that the plough could ever come near his tomb.
But the senate, since it dreaded to condemn the religion of its forefathers and was therefore compelled to assent to Numa, nevertheless judged those books to be so pernicious that it did not order them buried again — lest human curiosity should seek all the more vehemently a matter now betrayed — but ordered that these abominable records be destroyed by fire; so that, since they now deemed it necessary to perform those rites, it was more tolerable to err with the reasons for them unknown, than for the state to be thrown into turmoil once they were known. [XXXV] For Numa himself, to whom no prophet of God, no holy angel, was sent, was driven to practise hydromancy, so as to see in water the images of the gods — or rather the mockeries of demons — from whom he might hear what he ought to establish and observe in the sacred rites.
This kind of divination the same Varro says was brought from the Persians, and he records that both Numa himself and afterwards the philosopher Pythagoras made use of it; where, with blood employed, he asserts that even the dead below are consulted, and he says it is called in Greek 'nekyomanteia.' Whether it be termed hydromancy or necromancy, it is the very same thing, wherein the dead seem to divine. By what arts these things are done, let those responsible look to it. For I do not wish to say that these arts, even before the coming of our Saviour, were wont to be forbidden by the laws of the cities of the nations themselves and punished with the severest penalty. I do not wish, I say, to affirm this; for perhaps such things were then permitted.
Yet it was by these arts that Pompilius learned those sacred rites, whose ceremonies he made public but whose reasons he buried (so did he too fear what he had learned); and the senate burned the books that betrayed those reasons. Why then does Varro offer me some other reasons for those rites — I know not what — as though they were physical? For if those books had contained such reasons, they surely would not have been burned; or else the conscript fathers would likewise have burned these of Varro's, written and published to Caesar the pontiff. Now, because Numa Pompilius drew off water — that is, carried it out — from which to perform hydromancy, he is therefore said to have had the nymph Egeria as his wife, as is set forth in the aforesaid book of Varro. For so are actual deeds wont, by a sprinkling of falsehoods, to be turned into fables.
In that hydromancy, then, that most inquisitive Roman king both learned the sacred rites which the pontiffs were to keep in their books, and their reasons, which he willed that no one but himself should know. And so he caused these, written separately, in a manner to die with him, since he took care that they be thus withdrawn from men's knowledge and buried. Either, therefore, the desires of the demons written there were so filthy and noxious that from them the whole of that civil theology would appear execrable even among such men — men who had taken upon themselves so many shameful things in those very rites;
or else all those beings were betrayed to be nothing other than dead men, whom, through so long an antiquity of time, almost all the peoples of the nations had believed to be immortal gods — while those same demons took delight in such rites, demons who, by certain attestations of deceptive miracles, substituted themselves to be worshipped in place of those very dead whom they had caused to be reckoned gods. But by the hidden providence of the true God it came to pass that they were both permitted to confess all these things to Pompilius, their friend, having been won over by those arts through which hydromancy could be performed, and yet were not permitted to advise him that, being about to die, he should rather burn them than bury them;
so that they might not become known, they had no power to resist either the plough by which they were dug up, or the pen of Varro by which the things done in this matter have come down to our memory. For they cannot do what they are not permitted; and they are permitted, by the deep and just judgment of the most high God, according to the deserts of those whom it is just should be either merely afflicted by them, or even subjected to and deceived by them. And how pernicious those writings were judged to be, and how alien from the worship of true divinity, may be understood from this: that the senate preferred to burn what Pompilius had hidden, rather than to fear what he feared — he who could not dare to do this. Let him, then, who is unwilling to have a pious life even now, seek eternal life through such rites;
but let him who does not wish to have fellowship with the malignant demons not dread the noxious superstition by which they are worshipped, but rather acknowledge the true religion by which they are exposed and overcome.