Writings of Augustine. The City of God.
Advanced Information
The City of God.
translated by Rev. Marcus Dods, D.D.
Published in 1886 by Philip Schaff,
New York: Christian Literature Publishing Co.
.
Book XIX.
Argument--In this book the end of the two cities, the earthly and the
heavenly, is discussed. Augustin reviews the opinions of the
philosophers regarding the supreme good, and their vain efforts to
make for themselves a happiness in this life; and, while he refutes
these, he takes occasion to show what the peace and happiness
belonging to the heavenly city, or the people of Christ, are both now
and hereafter.
Chapter 1.--That Varro Has Made Out that Two Hundred and Eighty-Eight
Different Sects of Philosophy Might Be Formed by the Various Opinions
Regarding the Supreme Good.
As I see that I have still to discuss the fit destinies of the two
cities, the earthly and the heavenly, I must first explain, so far as
the limits of this work allow me, the reasonings by which men have
attempted to make for themselves a happiness in this unhappy life, in
order that it may be evident, not only from divine authority, but also
from such reasons as can be adduced to unbelievers, how the empty
dreams of the philosophers differ from the hope which God gives to us,
and from the substantial fulfillment of it which He will give us as
our blessedness. Philosophers have expressed a great variety of
diverse opinions regarding the ends of goods and of evils, and this
question they have eagerly canvassed, that they might, if possible,
discover what makes a man happy. For the end of our good is that for
the sake of which other things are to be desired, while it is to be
desired for its own sake; and the end of evil is that on account of
which other things are to be shunned, while it is avoided on its own
account. Thus, by the end of good, we at present mean, not that by
which good is destroyed, so that it no longer exists, but that by
which it is finished, so that it becomes complete; and by the end of
evil we mean, not that which abolishes it, but that which completes
its development. These two ends, therefore, are the supreme good and
the supreme evil; and, as I have said, those who have in this vain
life professed the study of wisdom have been at great pains to
discover these ends, and to obtain the supreme good and avoid the
supreme evil in this life. And although they erred in a variety of
ways, yet natural insight has prevented them from wandering from the
truth so far that they have not placed the supreme good and evil, some
in the soul, some in the body, and some in both. From this tripartite
distribution of the sects of philosophy, Marcus Varro, in his book De
Philosophia, [1259] has drawn so large a variety of opinions, that, by
a subtle and minute analysis of distinctions, he numbers without
difficulty as many as 288 sects,--not that these have actually
existed, but sects which are possible.
To illustrate briefly what he means, I must begin with his own
introductory statement in the above-mentioned book, that there are
four things which men desire, as it were by nature without a master,
without the help of any instruction, without industry or the art of
living which is called virtue, and which is certainly learned: [1260]
either pleasure, which is an agreeable stirring of the bodily sense;
or repose, which excludes every bodily inconvenience; or both these,
which Epicurus calls by the one name, pleasure; or the primary objects
of nature, [1261] which comprehend the things already named and other
things, either bodily, such as health, and safety, and integrity of
the members, or spiritual, such as the greater and less mental gifts
that are found in men. Now these four things--pleasure, repose, the
two combined, and the primary objects of nature--exist in us in such
sort that we must either desire virtue on their account, or them for
the sake of virtue, or both for their own sake; and consequently there
arise from this distinction twelve sects, for each is by this
consideration tripled. I will illustrate this in one instance, and,
having done so, it will not be difficult to understand the others.
According, then, as bodily pleasure is subjected, preferred, or united
to virtue, there are three sects. It is subjected to virtue when it
is chosen as subservient to virtue. Thus it is a duty of virtue to
live for one's country, and for its sake to beget children, neither of
which can be done without bodily pleasure. For there is pleasure in
eating and drinking, pleasure also in sexual intercourse. But when it
is preferred to virtue, it is desired for its own sake, and virtue is
chosen only for its sake, and to effect nothing else than the
attainment or preservation of bodily pleasure. And this, indeed, is
to make life hideous; for where virtue is the slave of pleasure it no
longer deserves the name of virtue. Yet even this disgraceful
distortion has found some philosophers to patronize and defend it.
Then virtue is united to pleasure when neither is desired for the
other's sake, but both for their own. And therefore, as pleasure,
according as it is subjected, preferred, or united to virtue, makes
three sects, so also do repose, pleasure and repose combined, and the
prime natural blessings, make their three sects each. For as men's
opinions vary, and these four things are sometimes subjected,
sometimes preferred, and sometimes united to virtue, there are
produced twelve sects. But this number again is doubled by the
addition of one difference, viz., the social life; for whoever
attaches himself to any of these sects does so either for his own sake
alone, or for the sake of a companion, for whom he ought to wish what
he desires for himself. And thus there will be twelve of those who
think some one of these opinions should be held for their own sakes,
and other twelve who decide that they ought to follow this or that
philosophy not for their own sakes only, but also for the sake of
others whose good they desire as their own. These twenty-four sects
again are doubled, and become forty-eight by adding a difference taken
from the New Academy. For each of these four and twenty sects can
hold and defend their opinion as certain, as the Stoics defended the
position that the supreme good of man consisted solely in virtue; or
they can be held as probable, but not certain, as the New Academics
did. There are, therefore, twenty-four who hold their philosophy as
certainly true, other twenty-four who hold their opinions as probable,
but not certain. Again, as each person who attaches himself to any of
these sects may adopt the mode of life either of the Cynics or of the
other philosophers, this distinction will double the number, and so
make ninety-six sects. Then, lastly, as each of these sects may be
adhered to either by men who love a life of ease, as those who have
through choice or necessity addicted themselves to study, or by men
who love a busy life, as those who, while philosophizing, have been
much occupied with state affairs and public business, or by men who
choose a mixed life, in imitation of those who have apportioned their
time partly to erudite leisure, partly to necessary business: by
these differences the number of the sects is tripled, and becomes 288.
I have thus, as briefly and lucidly as I could, given in my own words
the opinions which Varro expresses in his book. But how he refutes
all the rest of these sects, and chooses one, the Old Academy,
instituted by Plato, and continuing to Polemo, the fourth teacher of
that school of philosophy which held that their system was certain;
and how on this ground he distinguishes it from the New Academy,
[1262] which began with Polemo's successor Arcesilaus, and held that
all things are uncertain; and how he seeks to establish that the Old
Academy was as free from error as from doubt,--all this, I say, were
too long to enter upon in detail, and yet I must not altogether pass
it by in silence. Varro then rejects, as a first step, all those
differences which have multiplied the number of sects; and the ground
on which he does so is that they are not differences about the supreme
good. He maintains that in philosophy a sect is created only by its
having an opinion of its own different from other schools on the point
of the ends-in-chief. For man has no other reason for philosophizing
than that he may be happy; but that which makes him happy is itself
the supreme good. In other words, the supreme good is the reason of
philosophizing; and therefore that cannot be called a sect of
philosophy which pursues no way of its own towards the supreme good.
Thus, when it is asked whether a wise man will adopt the social life,
and desire and be interested in the supreme good of his friend as in
his own, or will, on the contrary, do all that he does merely for his
own sake, there is no question here about the supreme good, but only
about the propriety of associating or not associating a friend in its
participation: whether the wise man will do this not for his own
sake, but for the sake of his friend in whose good he delights as in
his own. So, too, when it is asked whether all things about which
philosophy is concerned are to be considered uncertain, as by the New
Academy, or certain, as the other philosophers maintain, the question
here is not what end should be pursued, but whether or not we are to
believe in the substantial existence of that end; or, to put it more
plainly, whether he who pursues the supreme good must maintain that it
is a true good, or only that it appears to him to be true, though
possibly it may be delusive,--both pursuing one and the same good.
The distinction, too, which is founded on the dress and manners of the
Cynics, does not touch the question of the chief good, but only the
question whether he who pursues that good which seems to himself true
should live as do the Cynics. There were, in fact, men who, though
they pursued different things as the supreme good, some choosing
pleasure, others virtue, yet adopted that mode of life which gave the
Cynics their name. Thus, whatever it is which distinguishes the
Cynics from other philosophers, this has no bearing on the choice and
pursuit of that good which constitutes happiness. For if it had any
such bearing, then the same habits of life would necessitate the
pursuit of the same chief good, and diverse habits would necessitate
the pursuit of different ends.
Footnotes
[1259] Not extant.
[1260] Alluding to the vexed question whether virtue could be taught.
[1261] The prima naturæ, or prota kata phusin of the Stoics.
[1262] Frequently called the Middle Academy; the New beginning with
Carneades.
Chapter 2.--How Varro, by Removing All the Differences Which Do Not
Form Sects, But are Merely Secondary Questions, Reaches Three
Definitions of the Chief Good, of Which We Must Choose One.
The same may be said of those three kinds of life, the life of
studious leisure and search after truth, the life of easy engagement
in affairs, and the life in which both these are mingled. When it is
asked, which of these should be adopted, this involves no controversy
about the end of good, but inquires which of these three puts a man in
the best position for finding and retaining the supreme good. For
this good, as soon as a man finds it, makes him happy; but lettered
leisure, or public business, or the alternation of these, do not
necessarily constitute happiness. Many, in fact, find it possible to
adopt one or other of these modes of life, and yet to miss what makes
a man happy. The question, therefore, regarding the supreme good and
the supreme evil, and which distinguishes sects of philosophy, is one;
and these questions concerning the social life, the doubt of the
Academy, the dress and food of the Cynics, the three modes of
life--the active, the contemplative, and the mixed--these are
different questions, into none of which the question of the chief good
enters. And therefore, as Marcus Varro multiplied the sects to the
number of 288 (or whatever larger number he chose) by introducing
these four differences derived from the social life, the New Academy,
the Cynics, and the threefold form of life, so, by removing these
differences as having no bearing on the supreme good, and as therefore
not constituting what can properly be called sects, he returns to
those twelve schools which concern themselves with inquiring what that
good is which makes man happy, and he shows that one of these is true,
the rest false. In other words, he dismisses the distinction founded
on the threefold mode of life, and so decreases the whole number by
two-thirds, reducing the sects to ninety-six. Then, putting aside the
Cynic peculiarities, the number decreases by a half, to forty-eight.
Taking away next the distinction occasioned by the hesitancy of the
New Academy, the number is again halved, and reduced to twenty-four.
Treating in a similar way the diversity introduced by the
consideration of the social life, there are left but twelve, which
this difference had doubled to twenty-four. Regarding these twelve,
no reason can be assigned why they should not be called sects. For in
them the sole inquiry is regarding the supreme good and the ultimate
evil,--that is to say, regarding the supreme good, for this being
found, the opposite evil is thereby found. Now, to make these twelve
sects, he multiplies by three these four things--pleasure, repose,
pleasure and repose combined, and the primary objects of nature which
Varro calls primigenia. For as these four things are sometimes
subordinated to virtue, so that they seem to be desired not for their
own sake, but for virtue's sake; sometimes preferred to it, so that
virtue seems to be necessary not on its own account, but in order to
attain these things; sometimes joined with it, so that both they and
virtue are desired for their own sakes,--we must multiply the four by
three, and thus we get twelve sects. But from those four things Varro
eliminates three--pleasure, repose, pleasure and repose combined--not
because he thinks these are not worthy of the place assigned them, but
because they are included in the primary objects of nature. And what
need is there, at any rate, to make a threefold division out of these
two ends, pleasure and repose, taking them first severally and then
conjunctly, since both they, and many other things besides, are
comprehended in the primary objects of nature? Which of the three
remaining sects must be chosen? This is the question that Varro
dwells upon. For whether one of these three or some other be chosen,
reason forbids that more than one be true. This we shall afterwards
see; but meanwhile let us explain as briefly and distinctly as we can
how Varro makes his selection from these three, that is, from the
sects which severally hold that the primary objects of nature are to
be desired for virtue's sake, that virtue is to be desired for their
sake, and that virtue and these objects are to be desired each for
their own sake.
Chapter 3.--Which of the Three Leading Opinions Regarding the Chief
Good Should Be Preferred, According to Varro, Who Follows Antiochus
and the Old Academy.
Which of these three is true and to be adopted he attempts to show in
the following manner. As it is the supreme good, not of a tree, or of
a beast, or of a god, but of man that philosophy is in quest of, he
thinks that, first of all, we must define man. He is of opinion that
there are two parts in human nature, body and soul, and makes no doubt
that of these two the soul is the better and by far the more worthy
part. But whether the soul alone is the man, so that the body holds
the same relation to it as a horse to the horseman, this he thinks has
to be ascertained. The horseman is not a horse and a man, but only a
man, yet he is called a horseman, because he is in some relation to
the horse. Again, is the body alone the man, having a relation to the
soul such as the cup has to the drink? For it is not the cup and the
drink it contains which are called the cup, but the cup alone; yet it
is so called because it is made to hold the drink. Or, lastly, is it
neither the soul alone nor the body alone, but both together, which
are man, the body and the soul being each a part, but the whole man
being both together, as we call two horses yoked together a pair, of
which pair the near and the off horse is each a part, but we do not
call either of them, no matter how connected with the other, a pair,
but only both together? Of these three alternatives, then, Varro
chooses the third, that man is neither the body alone, nor the soul
alone, but both together. And therefore the highest good, in which
lies the happiness of man, is composed of goods of both kinds, both
bodily and spiritual. And consequently he thinks that the primary
objects of nature are to be sought for their own sake, and that
virtue, which is the art of living, and can be communicated by
instruction, is the most excellent of spiritual goods. This virtue,
then, or art of regulating life, when it has received these primary
objects of nature which existed independently of it, and prior to any
instruction, seeks them all, and itself also, for its own sake; and it
uses them, as it also uses itself, that from them all it may derive
profit and enjoyment, greater or less, according as they are
themselves greater or less; and while it takes pleasure in all of
them, it despises the less that it may obtain or retain the greater
when occasion demands. Now, of all goods, spiritual or bodily, there
is none at all to compare with virtue. For virtue makes a good use
both of itself and of all other goods in which lies man's happiness;
and where it is absent, no matter how many good things a man has, they
are not for his good, and consequently should not be called good
things while they belong to one who makes them useless by using them
badly. The life of man, then, is called happy when it enjoys virtue
and these other spiritual and bodily good things without which virtue
is impossible. It is called happier if it enjoys some or many other
good things which are not essential to virtue; and happiest of all, if
it lacks not one of the good things which pertain to the body and the
soul. For life is not the same thing as virtue, since not every life,
but a wisely regulated life, is virtue; and yet, while there can be
life of some kind without virtue, there cannot be virtue without
life. This I might apply to memory and reason, and such mental
faculties; for these exist prior to instruction, and without them
there cannot be any instruction, and consequently no virtue, since
virtue is learned. But bodily advantages, such as swiftness of foot,
beauty, or strength, are not essential to virtue, neither is virtue
essential to them, and yet they are good things; and, according to our
philosophers, even these advantages are desired by virtue for its own
sake, and are used and enjoyed by it in a becoming manner.
They say that this happy life is also social, and loves the advantages
of its friends as its own, and for their sake wishes for them what it
desires for itself, whether these friends live in the same family, as
a wife, children, domestics; or in the locality where one's home is,
as the citizens of the same town; or in the world at large, as the
nations bound in common human brotherhood; or in the universe itself,
comprehended in the heavens and the earth, as those whom they call
gods, and provide as friends for the wise man, and whom we more
familiarly call angels. Moreover, they say that, regarding the
supreme good and evil, there is no room for doubt, and that they
therefore differ from the New Academy in this respect, and they are
not concerned whether a philosopher pursues those ends which they
think true in the Cynic dress and manner of life or in some other.
And, lastly, in regard to the three modes of life, the contemplative,
the active, and the composite, they declare in favor of the third.
That these were the opinions and doctrines of the Old Academy, Varro
asserts on the authority of Antiochus, Cicero's master and his own,
though Cicero makes him out to have been more frequently in accordance
with the Stoics than with the Old Academy. But of what importance is
this to us, who ought to judge the matter on its own merits, rather
than to understand accurately what different men have thought about
it?
Chapter 4.--What the Christians Believe Regarding the Supreme Good and
Evil, in Opposition to the Philosophers, Who Have Maintained that the
Supreme Good is in Themselves.
If, then, we be asked what the city of God has to say upon these
points, and, in the first place, what its opinion regarding the
supreme good and evil is, it will reply that life eternal is the
supreme good, death eternal the supreme evil, and that to obtain the
one and escape the other we must live rightly. And thus it is
written, "The just lives by faith," [1263] for we do not as yet see
our good, and must therefore live by faith; neither have we in
ourselves power to live rightly, but can do so only if He who has
given us faith to believe in His help do help us when we believe and
pray. As for those who have supposed that the sovereign good and evil
are to be found in this life, and have placed it either in the soul or
the body, or in both, or, to speak more explicitly, either in pleasure
or in virtue, or in both; in repose or in virtue, or in both; in
pleasure and repose, or in virtue, or in all combined; in the primary
objects of nature, or in virtue, or in both,--all these have, with a
marvelous shallowness, sought to find their blessedness in this life
and in themselves. Contempt has been poured upon such ideas by the
Truth, saying by the prophet, "The Lord knoweth the thoughts of men"
(or, as the Apostle Paul cites the passage, "The Lord knoweth the
thoughts of the wise") "that they are vain." [1264]
For what flood of eloquence can suffice to detail the miseries of this
life? Cicero, in the Consolation on the death of his daughter, has
spent all his ability in lamentation; but how inadequate was even his
ability here? For when, where, how, in this life can these primary
objects of nature be possessed so that they may not be assailed by
unforeseen accidents? Is the body of the wise man exempt from any
pain which may dispel pleasure, from any disquietude which may banish
repose? The amputation or decay of the members of the body puts an
end to its integrity, deformity blights its beauty, weakness its
health, lassitude its vigor, sleepiness or sluggishness its
activity,--and which of these is it that may not assail the flesh of
the wise man? Comely and fitting attitudes and movements of the body
are numbered among the prime natural blessings; but what if some
sickness makes the members tremble? what if a man suffers from
curvature of the spine to such an extent that his hands reach the
ground, and he goes upon all-fours like a quadruped? Does not this
destroy all beauty and grace in the body, whether at rest or in
motion? What shall I say of the fundamental blessings of the soul,
sense and intellect, of which the one is given for the perception, and
the other for the comprehension of truth? But what kind of sense is
it that remains when a man becomes deaf and blind? where are reason
and intellect when disease makes a man delirious? We can scarcely, or
not at all, refrain from tears, when we think of or see the actions
and words of such frantic persons, and consider how different from and
even opposed to their own sober judgment and ordinary conduct their
present demeanor is. And what shall I say of those who suffer from
demoniacal possession? Where is their own intelligence hidden and
buried while the malignant spirit is using their body and soul
according to his own will? And who is quite sure that no such thing
can happen to the wise man in this life? Then, as to the perception
of truth, what can we hope for even in this way while in the body, as
we read in the true book of Wisdom, "The corruptible body weigheth
down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle presseth down the mind that
museth upon many things?" [1265]And eagerness, or desire of action,
if this is the right meaning to put upon the Greek horme, is also
reckoned among the primary advantages of nature; and yet is it not
this which produces those pitiable movements of the insane, and those
actions which we shudder to see, when sense is deceived and reason
deranged?
In fine, virtue itself, which is not among the primary objects of
nature, but succeeds to them as the result of learning, though it
holds the highest place among human good things, what is its
occupation save to wage perpetual war with vices,--not those that are
outside of us, but within; not other men's, but our own,--a war which
is waged especially by that virtue which the Greeks call sophrosune,
and we temperance, [1266] and which bridles carnal lusts, and prevents
them from winning the consent of the spirit to wicked deeds? For we
must not fancy that there is no vice in us, when, as the apostle says,
"The flesh lusteth against the spirit;" [1267] for to this vice there
is a contrary virtue, when, as the same writer says, "The spirit
lusteth against the flesh." "For these two," he says, "are contrary
one to the other, so that you cannot do the things which you would."
But what is it we wish to do when we seek to attain the supreme good,
unless that the flesh should cease to lust against the spirit, and
that there be no vice in us against which the spirit may lust? And as
we cannot attain to this in the present life, however ardently we
desire it, let us by God's help accomplish at least this, to preserve
the soul from succumbing and yielding to the flesh that lusts against
it, and to refuse our consent to the perpetration of sin. Far be it
from us, then, to fancy that while we are still engaged in this
intestine war, we have already found the happiness which we seek to
reach by victory. And who is there so wise that he has no conflict at
all to maintain against his vices?
What shall I say of that virtue which is called prudence? Is not all
its vigilance spent in the discernment of good from evil things, so
that no mistake may be admitted about what we should desire and what
avoid? And thus it is itself a proof that we are in the midst of
evils, or that evils are in us; for it teaches us that it is an evil
to consent to sin, and a good to refuse this consent. And yet this
evil, to which prudence teaches and temperance enables us not to
consent, is removed from this life neither by prudence nor by
temperance. And justice, whose office it is to render to every man
his due, whereby there is in man himself a certain just order of
nature, so that the soul is subjected to God, and the flesh to the
soul, and consequently both soul and flesh to God,--does not this
virtue demonstrate that it is as yet rather laboring towards its end
than resting in its finished work? For the soul is so much the less
subjected to God as it is less occupied with the thought of God; and
the flesh is so much the less subjected to the spirit as it lusts more
vehemently against the spirit. So long, therefore, as we are beset by
this weakness, this plague, this disease, how shall we dare to say
that we are safe? and if not safe, then how can we be already enjoying
our final beatitude? Then that virtue which goes by the name of
fortitude is the plainest proof of the ills of life, for it is these
ills which it is compelled to bear patiently. And this holds good, no
matter though the ripest wisdom co-exists with it. And I am at a loss
to understand how the Stoic philosophers can presume to say that these
are no ills, though at the same time they allow the wise man to commit
suicide and pass out of this life if they become so grievous that he
cannot or ought not to endure them. But such is the stupid pride of
these men who fancy that the supreme good can be found in this life,
and that they can become happy by their own resources, that their wise
man, or at least the man whom they fancifully depict as such, is
always happy, even though he become blind, deaf, dumb, mutilated,
racked with pains, or suffer any conceivable calamity such as may
compel him to make away with himself; and they are not ashamed to call
the life that is beset with these evils happy. O happy life, which
seeks the aid of death to end it? If it is happy, let the wise man
remain in it; but if these ills drive him out of it, in what sense is
it happy? Or how can they say that these are not evils which conquer
the virtue of fortitude, and force it not only to yield, but so to
rave that it in one breath calls life happy and recommends it to be
given up? For who is so blind as not to see that if it were happy it
would not be fled from? And if they say we should flee from it on
account of the infirmities that beset it, why then do they not lower
their pride and acknowledge that it is miserable? Was it, I would
ask, fortitude or weakness which prompted Cato to kill himself? for he
would not have done so had he not been too weak to endure Cæsar's
victory. Where, then, is his fortitude? It has yielded, it has
succumbed, it has been so thoroughly overcome as to abandon, forsake,
flee this happy life. Or was it no longer happy? Then it was
miserable. How, then, were these not evils which made life miserable,
and a thing to be escaped from?
And therefore those who admit that these are evils, as the
Peripatetics do, and the Old Academy, the sect which Varro advocates,
express a more intelligible doctrine; but theirs also is a surprising
mistake, for they contend that this is a happy life which is beset by
these evils, even though they be so great that he who endures them
should commit suicide to escape them. "Pains and anguish of body,"
says Varro, "are evils, and so much the worse in proportion to their
severity; and to escape them you must quit this life." What life, I
pray? This life, he says, which is oppressed by such evils. Then it
is happy in the midst of these very evils on account of which you say
we must quit it? Or do you call it happy because you are at liberty
to escape these evils by death? What, then, if by some secret
judgment of God you were held fast and not permitted to die, nor
suffered to live without these evils? In that case, at least, you
would say that such a life was miserable. It is soon relinquished, no
doubt but this does not make it not miserable; for were it eternal,
you yourself would pronounce it miserable. Its brevity, therefore,
does not clear it of misery; neither ought it to be called happiness
because it is a brief misery. Certainly there is a mighty force in
these evils which compel a man--according to them even a wise man--to
cease to be a man that he may escape them, though they say, and say
truly, that it is as it were the first and strongest demand of nature
that a man cherish himself, and naturally therefore avoid death, and
should so stand his own friend as to wish and vehemently aim at
continuing to exist as a living creature, and subsisting in this union
of soul and body. There is a mighty force in these evils to overcome
this natural instinct by which death is by every means and with all a
man's efforts avoided, and to overcome it so completely that what was
avoided is desired, sought after, and if it cannot in any other way be
obtained, is inflicted by the man on himself. There is a mighty force
in these evils which make fortitude a homicide,--if, indeed, that is
to be called fortitude which is so thoroughly overcome by these evils,
that it not only cannot preserve by patience the man whom it undertook
to govern and defend, but is itself obliged to kill him. The wise
man, I admit, ought to bear death with patience, but when it is
inflicted by another. If, then, as these men maintain, he is obliged
to inflict it on himself, certainly it must be owned that the ills
which compel him to this are not only evils, but intolerable evils.
The life, then, which is either subject to accidents, or environed
with evils so considerable and grievous, could never have been called
happy, if the men who give it this name had condescended to yield to
the truth, and to be conquered by valid arguments, when they inquired
after the happy life, as they yield to unhappiness, and are overcome
by overwhelming evils, when they put themselves to death, and if they
had not fancied that the supreme good was to be found in this mortal
life; for the very virtues of this life, which are certainly its best
and most useful possessions, are all the more telling proofs of its
miseries in proportion as they are helpful against the violence of its
dangers, toils, and woes. For if these are true virtues,--and such
cannot exist save in those who have true piety,--they do not profess
to be able to deliver the men who possess them from all miseries; for
true virtues tell no such lies, but they profess that by the hope of
the future world this life, which is miserably involved in the many
and great evils of this world, is happy as it is also safe. For if
not yet safe, how could it be happy? And therefore the Apostle Paul,
speaking not of men without prudence, temperance, fortitude, and
justice, but of those whose lives were regulated by true piety, and
whose virtues were therefore true, says, "For we are saved by hope:
now hope which is seen is not hope; for what a man seeth, why doth he
yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with
patience wait for it." [1268] As, therefore, we are saved, so we are
made happy by hope. And as we do not as yet possess a present, but
look for a future salvation, so is it with our happiness, and this
"with patience;" for we are encompassed with evils, which we ought
patiently to endure, until we come to the ineffable enjoyment of
unmixed good; for there shall be no longer anything to endure.
Salvation, such as it shall be in the world to come, shall itself be
our final happiness. And this happiness these philosophers refuse to
believe in, because they do not see it, and attempt to fabricate for
themselves a happiness in this life, based upon a virtue which is as
deceitful as it is proud.
Footnotes
[1263] Hab. ii. 4.
[1264] Ps. xciv. 11, and 1 Cor. iii. 20.
[1265] Wisdom ix. 15.
[1266] Cicero, Tusc. Quæst. iii. 8.
[1267] Gal. v. 17.
[1268] Rom. viii. 24.
Chapter 5.--Of the Social Life, Which, Though Most Desirable, is
Frequently Disturbed by Many Distresses.
We give a much more unlimited approval to their idea that the life of
the wise man must be social. For how could the city of God
(concerning which we are already writing no less than the nineteenth
book of this work) either take a beginning or be developed, or attain
its proper destiny, if the life of the saints were not a social life?
But who can enumerate all the great grievances with which human
society abounds in the misery of this mortal state? Who can weigh
them? Hear how one of their comic writers makes one of his characters
express the common feelings of all men in this matter: "I am married;
this is one misery. Children are born to me; they are additional
cares." [1269]What shall I say of the miseries of love which
Terence also recounts--"slights, suspicions, quarrels, war to-day,
peace to-morrow?" [1270]Is not human life full of such things? Do
they not often occur even in honorable friendships? On all hands we
experience these slights, suspicions, quarrels, war, all of which are
undoubted evils; while, on the other hand, peace is a doubtful good,
because we do not know the heart of our friend, and though we did know
it to-day, we should be as ignorant of what it might be to-morrow.
Who ought to be, or who are more friendly than those who live in the
same family? And yet who can rely even upon this friendship, seeing
that secret treachery has often broken it up, and produced enmity as
bitter as the amity was sweet, or seemed sweet by the most perfect
dissimulation? It is on this account that the words of Cicero so move
the heart of every one, and provoke a sigh: "There are no snares more
dangerous than those which lurk under the guise of duty or the name of
relationship. For the man who is your declared foe you can easily
baffle by precaution; but this hidden, intestine, and domestic danger
not merely exists, but overwhelms you before you can foresee and
examine it." [1271]It is also to this that allusion is made by the
divine saying, "A man's foes are those of his own household," [1272]
--words which one cannot hear without pain; for though a man have
sufficient fortitude to endure it with equanimity, and sufficient
sagacity to baffle the malice of a pretended friend, yet if he himself
is a good man, he cannot but be greatly pained at the discovery of the
perfidy of wicked men, whether they have always been wicked and merely
feigned goodness, or have fallen from a better to a malicious
disposition. If, then, home, the natural refuge from the ills of
life, is itself not safe, what shall we say of the city, which, as it
is larger, is so much the more filled with lawsuits civil and
criminal, and is never free from the fear, if sometimes from the
actual outbreak, of disturbing and bloody insurrections and civil
wars?
Footnotes
[1269] Terent. Adelph. v. 4.
[1270] Eunuch, i. 1.
[1271] In Verrem, ii. 1. 15.
[1272] Matt. x. 36.
Chapter 6.--Of the Error of Human Judgments When the Truth is Hidden.
What shall I say of these judgments which men pronounce on men, and
which are necessary in communities, whatever outward peace they
enjoy? Melancholy and lamentable judgments they are, since the judges
are men who cannot discern the consciences of those at their bar, and
are therefore frequently compelled to put innocent witnesses to the
torture to ascertain the truth regarding the crimes of other men.
What shall I say of torture applied to the accused himself? He is
tortured to discover whether he is guilty, so that, though innocent,
he suffers most undoubted punishment for crime that is still doubtful,
not because it is proved that he committed it, but because it is not
ascertained that he did not commit it. Thus the ignorance of the
judge frequently involves an innocent person in suffering. And what
is still more unendurable--a thing, indeed, to be bewailed, and, if
that were possible, watered with fountains of tears--is this, that
when the judge puts the accused to the question, that he may not
unwittingly put an innocent man to death, the result of this
lamentable ignorance is that this very person, whom he tortured that
he might not condemn him if innocent, is condemned to death both
tortured and innocent. For if he has chosen, in obedience to the
philosophical instructions to the wise man, to quit this life rather
than endure any longer such tortures, he declares that he has
committed the crime which in fact he has not committed. And when he
has been condemned and put to death, the judge is still in ignorance
whether he has put to death an innocent or a guilty person, though he
put the accused to the torture for the very purpose of saving himself
from condemning the innocent; and consequently he has both tortured an
innocent man to discover his innocence, and has put him to death
without discovering it. If such darkness shrouds social life, will a
wise judge take his seat on the bench or no? Beyond question he
will. For human society, which he thinks it a wickedness to abandon,
constrains him and compels him to this duty. And he thinks it no
wickedness that innocent witnesses are tortured regarding the crimes
of which other men are accused; or that the accused are put to the
torture, so that they are often overcome with anguish, and, though
innocent, make false confessions regarding themselves, and are
punished; or that, though they be not condemned to die, they often die
during, or in consequence of, the torture; or that sometimes the
accusers, who perhaps have been prompted by a desire to benefit
society by bringing criminals to justice, are themselves condemned
through the ignorance of the judge, because they are unable to prove
the truth of their accusations though they are true, and because the
witnesses lie, and the accused endures the torture without being moved
to confession. These numerous and important evils he does not
consider sins; for the wise judge does these things, not with any
intention of doing harm, but because his ignorance compels him, and
because human society claims him as a judge. But though we therefore
acquit the judge of malice, we must none the less condemn human life
as miserable. And if he is compelled to torture and punish the
innocent because his office and his ignorance constrain him, is he a
happy as well as a guiltless man? Surely it were proof of more
profound considerateness and finer feeling were he to recognize the
misery of these necessities, and shrink from his own implication in
that misery; and had he any piety about him, he would cry to God "From
my necessities deliver Thou me." [1273]
Footnotes
[1273] Ps. xxv. 17.
Chapter 7.--Of the Diversity of Languages, by Which the Intercourse of
Men is Prevented; And of the Misery of Wars, Even of Those Called
Just.
After the state or city comes the world, the third circle of human
society,--the first being the house, and the second the city. And the
world, as it is larger, so it is fuller of dangers, as the greater sea
is the more dangerous. And here, in the first place, man is separated
from man by the difference of languages. For if two men, each
ignorant of the other's language, meet, and are not compelled to pass,
but, on the contrary, to remain in company, dumb animals, though of
different species, would more easily hold intercourse than they, human
beings though they be. For their common nature is no help to
friendliness when they are prevented by diversity of language from
conveying their sentiments to one another; so that a man would more
readily hold intercourse with his dog than with a foreigner. But the
imperial city has endeavored to impose on subject nations not only her
yoke, but her language, as a bond of peace, so that interpreters, far
from being scarce, are numberless. This is true; but how many great
wars, how much slaughter and bloodshed, have provided this unity! And
though these are past, the end of these miseries has not yet come.
For though there have never been wanting, nor are yet wanting, hostile
nations beyond the empire, against whom wars have been and are waged,
yet, supposing there were no such nations, the very extent of the
empire itself has produced wars of a more obnoxious
description--social and civil wars--and with these the whole race has
been agitated, either by the actual conflict or the fear of a renewed
outbreak. If I attempted to give an adequate description of these
manifold disasters, these stern and lasting necessities, though I am
quite unequal to the task, what limit could I set? But, say they, the
wise man will wage just wars. As if he would not all the rather
lament the necessity of just wars, if he remembers that he is a man;
for if they were not just he would not wage them, and would therefore
be delivered from all wars. For it is the wrongdoing of the opposing
party which compels the wise man to wage just wars; and this
wrong-doing, even though it gave rise to no war, would still be matter
of grief to man because it is man's wrong-doing. Let every one, then,
who thinks with pain on all these great evils, so horrible, so
ruthless, acknowledge that this is misery. And if any one either
endures or thinks of them without mental pain, this is a more
miserable plight still, for he thinks himself happy because he has
lost human feeling.
Chapter 8.--That the Friendship of Good Men Cannot Be Securely Rested
In, So Long as the Dangers of This Life Force Us to Be Anxious.
In our present wretched condition we frequently mistake a friend for
an enemy, and an enemy for a friend. And if we escape this pitiable
blindness, is not the unfeigned confidence and mutual love of true and
good friends our one solace in human society, filled as it is with
misunderstandings and calamities? And yet the more friends we have,
and the more widely they are scattered, the more numerous are our
fears that some portion of the vast masses of the disasters of life
may light upon them. For we are not only anxious lest they suffer
from famine, war, disease, captivity, or the inconceivable horrors of
slavery, but we are also affected with the much more painful dread
that their friendship may be changed into perfidy, malice, and
injustice. And when these contingencies actually occur,--as they do
the more frequently the more friends we have, and the more widely they
are scattered,--and when they come to our knowledge, who but the man
who has experienced it can tell with what pangs the heart is torn? We
would, in fact, prefer to hear that they were dead, although we could
not without anguish hear of even this. For if their life has solaced
us with the charms of friendship, can it be that their death should
affect us with no sadness? He who will have none of this sadness
must, if possible, have no friendly intercourse. Let him interdict or
extinguish friendly affection; let him burst with ruthless
insensibility the bonds of every human relationship; or let him
contrive so to use them that no sweetness shall distil into his
spirit. But if this is utterly impossible, how shall we contrive to
feel no bitterness in the death of those whose life has been sweet to
us? Hence arises that grief which affects the tender heart like a
wound or a bruise, and which is healed by the application of kindly
consolation. For though the cure is affected all the more easily and
rapidly the better condition the soul is in, we must not on this
account suppose that there is nothing at all to heal. Although, then,
our present life is afflicted, sometimes in a milder, sometimes in a
more painful degree, by the death of those very dear to us, and
especially of useful public men, yet we would prefer to hear that such
men were dead rather than to hear or perceive that they had fallen
from the faith, or from virtue,--in other words, that they were
spiritually dead. Of this vast material for misery the earth is full,
and therefore it is written, "Is not human life upon earth a trial?"
[1274]And with the same reference the Lord says, "Woe to the world
because of offenses!" [1275] and again, "Because iniquity abounded,
the love of many shall wax cold." [1276]And hence we enjoy some
gratification when our good friends die; for though their death leaves
us in sorrow, we have the consolatory assurance that they are beyond
the ills by which in this life even the best of men are broken down or
corrupted, or are in danger of both results.
Footnotes
[1274] Job vii. 1.
[1275] Matt. xvii. 7.
[1276] Matt. xxiv. 12.
Chapter 9.--Of the Friendship of the Holy Angels, Which Men Cannot Be
Sure of in This Life, Owing to the Deceit of the Demons Who Hold in
Bondage the Worshippers of a Plurality of Gods.
The philosophers who wished us to have the gods for our friends rank
the friendship of the holy angels in the fourth circle of society,
advancing now from the three circles of society on earth to the
universe, and embracing heaven itself. And in this friendship we have
indeed no fear that the angels will grieve us by their death or
deterioration. But as we cannot mingle with them as familiarly as
with men (which itself is one of the grievances of this life), and as
Satan, as we read, [1277] sometimes transforms himself into an angel
of light, to tempt those whom it is necessary to discipline, or just
to deceive, there is great need of God's mercy to preserve us from
making friends of demons in disguise, while we fancy we have good
angels for our friends; for the astuteness and deceitfulness of these
wicked spirits is equalled by their hurtfulness. And is this not a
great misery of human life, that we are involved in such ignorance as,
but for God's mercy, makes us a prey to these demons? And it is very
certain that the philosophers of the godless city, who have maintained
that the gods were their friends, had fallen a prey to the malignant
demons who rule that city, and whose eternal punishment is to be
shared by it. For the nature of these beings is sufficiently evinced
by the sacred or rather sacrilegious observances which form their
worship, and by the filthy games in which their crimes are celebrated,
and which they themselves originated and exacted from their
worshippers as a fit propitiation.
Footnotes
[1277] 2 Cor. xi. 14.
Chapter 10.--The Reward Prepared for the Saints After They Have
Endured the Trial of This Life.
But not even the saints and faithful worshippers of the one true and
most high God are safe from the manifold temptations and deceits of
the demons. For in this abode of weakness, and in these wicked days,
this state of anxiety has also its use, stimulating us to seek with
keener longing for that security where peace is complete and
unassailable. There we shall enjoy the gifts of nature, that is to
say, all that God the Creator of all natures has bestowed upon
ours,--gifts not only good, but eternal,--not only of the spirit,
healed now by wisdom, but also of the body renewed by the
resurrection. There the virtues shall no longer be struggling against
any vice or evil, but shall enjoy the reward of victory, the eternal
peace which no adversary shall disturb. This is the final
blessedness, this the ultimate consummation, the unending end. Here,
indeed, we are said to be blessed when we have such peace as can be
enjoyed in a good life; but such blessedness is mere misery compared
to that final felicity. When we mortals possess such peace as this
mortal life can afford, virtue, if we are living rightly, makes a
right use of the advantages of this peaceful condition; and when we
have it not, virtue makes a good use even of the evils a man suffers.
But this is true virtue, when it refers all the advantages it makes a
good use of, and all that it does in making good use of good and evil
things, and itself also, to that end in which we shall enjoy the best
and greatest peace possible.
Chapter 11.--Of the Happiness of the Eternal Peace, Which Constitutes
the End or True Perfection of the Saints.
And thus we may say of peace, as we have said of eternal life, that it
is the end of our good; and the rather because the Psalmist says of
the city of God, the subject of this laborious work, "Praise the Lord,
O Jerusalem; praise thy God, O Zion: for He hath strengthened the
bars of thy gates; He hath blessed thy children within thee; who hath
made thy borders peace." [1278]For when the bars of her gates shall
be strengthened, none shall go in or come out from her; consequently
we ought to understand the peace of her borders as that final peace we
are wishing to declare. For even the mystical name of the city
itself, that is, Jerusalem, means, as I have already said, "Vision of
Peace." But as the word peace is employed in connection with things
in this world in which certainly life eternal has no place, we have
preferred to call the end or supreme good of this city life eternal
rather than peace. Of this end the apostle says, "But now, being
freed from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto
holiness, and the end life eternal." [1279]But, on the other hand,
as those who are not familiar with Scripture may suppose that the life
of the wicked is eternal life, either because of the immortality of
the soul, which some of the philosophers even have recognized, or
because of the endless punishment of the wicked, which forms a part of
our faith, and which seems impossible unless the wicked live for ever,
it may therefore be advisable, in order that every one may readily
understand what we mean, to say that the end or supreme good of this
city is either peace in eternal life, or eternal life in peace. For
peace is a good so great, that even in this earthly and mortal life
there is no word we hear with such pleasure, nothing we desire with
such zest, or find to be more thoroughly gratifying. So that if we
dwell for a little longer on this subject, we shall not, in my
opinion, be wearisome to our readers, who will attend both for the
sake of understanding what is the end of this city of which we speak,
and for the sake of the sweetness of peace which is dear to all.
Footnotes
[1278] Ps. cxlvii. 12-14.
[1279] Rom. vi. 22.
Chapter 12.--That Even the Fierceness of War and All the Disquietude
of Men Make Towards This One End of Peace, Which Every Nature Desires.
Whoever gives even moderate attention to human affairs and to our
common nature, will recognize that if there is no man who does not
wish to be joyful, neither is there any one who does not wish to have
peace. For even they who make war desire nothing but
victory,--desire, that is to say, to attain to peace with glory. For
what else is victory than the conquest of those who resist us? and
when this is done there is peace. It is therefore with the desire for
peace that wars are waged, even by those who take pleasure in
exercising their warlike nature in command and battle. And hence it
is obvious that peace is the end sought for by war. For every man
seeks peace by waging war, but no man seeks war by making peace. For
even they who intentionally interrupt the peace in which they are
living have no hatred of peace, but only wish it changed into a peace
that suits them better. They do not, therefore, wish to have no
peace, but only one more to their mind. And in the case of sedition,
when men have separated themselves from the community, they yet do not
effect what they wish, unless they maintain some kind of peace with
their fellow-conspirators. And therefore even robbers take care to
maintain peace with their comrades, that they may with greater effect
and greater safety invade the peace of other men. And if an
individual happen to be of such unrivalled strength, and to be so
jealous of partnership, that he trusts himself with no comrades, but
makes his own plots, and commits depredations and murders on his own
account, yet he maintains some shadow of peace with such persons as he
is unable to kill, and from whom he wishes to conceal his deeds. In
his own home, too, he makes it his aim to be at peace with his wife
and children, and any other members of his household; for
unquestionably their prompt obedience to his every look is a source of
pleasure to him. And if this be not rendered, he is angry, he chides
and punishes; and even by this storm he secures the calm peace of his
own home, as occasion demands. For he sees that peace cannot be
maintained unless all the members of the same domestic circle be
subject to one head, such as he himself is in his own house. And
therefore if a city or nation offered to submit itself to him, to
serve him in the same style as he had made his household serve him, he
would no longer lurk in a brigand's hiding-places, but lift his head
in open day as a king, though the same coveteousness and wicked ness
should remain in him. And thus all men desire to have peace with
their own circle whom they wish to govern as suits themselves. For
even those whom they make war against they wish to make their own, and
impose on them the laws of their own peace.
But let us suppose a man such as poetry and mythology speak of,--a man
so insociable and savage as to be called rather a semi-man than a man.
[1280]Although, then, his kingdom was the solitude of a dreary
cave, and he himself was so singularly bad-hearted that he was named
Kakos, which is the Greek word for bad; though he had no wife to
soothe him with endearing talk, no children to play with, no sons to
do his bidding, no friend to enliven him with intercourse, not even
his father Vulcan (though in one respect he was happier than his
father, not having begotten a monster like himself); although he gave
to no man, but took as he wished whatever he could, from whomsoever he
could, when he could yet in that solitary den, the floor of which, as
Virgil [1281] says, was always reeking with recent slaughter, there
was nothing else than peace sought, a peace in which no one should
molest him, or disquiet him with any assault or alarm. With his own
body he desired to be at peace, and he was satisfied only in
proportion as he had this peace. For he ruled his members, and they
obeyed him; and for the sake of pacifying his mortal nature, which
rebelled when it needed anything, and of allaying the sedition of
hunger which threatened to banish the soul from the body, he made
forays, slew, and devoured, but used the ferocity and savageness he
displayed in these actions only for the preservation of his own life's
peace. So that, had he been willing to make with other men the same
peace which he made with himself in his own cave, he would neither
have been called bad, nor a monster, nor a semi-man. Or if the
appearance of his body and his vomiting smoky fires frightened men
from having any dealings with him, perhaps his fierce ways arose not
from a desire to do mischief, but from the necessity of finding a
living. But he may have had no existence, or, at least, he was not
such as the poets fancifully describe him, for they had to exalt
Hercules, and did so at the expense of Cacus. It is better, then, to
believe that such a man or semi-man never existed, and that this, in
common with many other fancies of the poets, is mere fiction. For the
most savage animals (and he is said to have been almost a wild beast)
encompass their own species with a ring of protecting peace. They
cohabit, beget, produce, suckle, and bring up their young, though very
many of them are not gregarious, but solitary,--not like sheep, deer,
pigeons, starlings, bees, but such as lions, foxes, eagles, bats. For
what tigress does not gently purr over her cubs, and lay aside her
ferocity to fondle them? What kite, solitary as he is when circling
over his prey, does not seek a mate, build a nest, hatch the eggs,
bring up the young birds, and maintain with the mother of his family
as peaceful a domestic alliance as he can? How much more powerfully
do the laws of man's nature move him to hold fellowship and maintain
peace with all men so far as in him lies, since even wicked men wage
war to maintain the peace of their own circle, and wish that, if
possible, all men belonged to them, that all men and things might
serve but one head, and might, either through love or fear, yield
themselves to peace with him! It is thus that pride in its perversity
apes God. It abhors equality with other men under Him; but, instead
of His rule, it seeks to impose a rule of its own upon its equals. It
abhors, that is to say, the just peace of God, and loves its own
unjust peace; but it cannot help loving peace of one kind or other.
For there is no vice so clean contrary to nature that it obliterates
even the faintest traces of nature.
He, then, who prefers what is right to what is wrong, and what is
well-ordered to what is perverted, sees that the peace of unjust men
is not worthy to be called peace in comparison with the peace of the
just. And yet even what is perverted must of necessity be in harmony
with, and in dependence on, and in some part of the order of things,
for otherwise it would have no existence at all. Suppose a man hangs
with his head downwards, this is certainly a perverted attitude of
body and arrangement of its members; for that which nature requires to
be above is beneath, and vice versâ. This perversity disturbs the
peace of the body, and is therefore painful. Nevertheless the spirit
is at peace with its body, and labors for its preservation, and hence
the suffering; but if it is banished from the body by its pains, then,
so long as the bodily framework holds together, there is in the
remains a kind of peace among the members, and hence the body remains
suspended. And inasmuch as the earthly body tends towards the earth,
and rests on the bond by which it is suspended, it tends thus to its
natural peace, and the voice of its own weight demands a place for it
to rest; and though now lifeless and without feeling, it does not fall
from the peace that is natural to its place in creation, whether it
already has it, or is tending towards it. For if you apply embalming
preparations to prevent the bodily frame from mouldering and
dissolving, a kind of peace still unites part to part, and keeps the
whole body in a suitable place on the earth,--in other words, in a
place that is at peace with the body. If, on the other hand, the body
receive no such care, but be left to the natural course, it is
disturbed by exhalations that do not harmonize with one another, and
that offend our senses; for it is this which is perceived in
putrefaction until it is assimilated to the elements of the world, and
particle by particle enters into peace with them. Yet throughout this
process the laws of the most high Creator and Governor are strictly
observed, for it is by Him the peace of the universe is administered.
For although minute animals are produced from the carcass of a larger
animal, all these little atoms, by the law of the same Creator, serve
the animals they belong to in peace. And although the flesh of dead
animals be eaten by others, no matter where it be carried, nor what it
be brought into contact with, nor what it be converted and changed
into, it still is ruled by the same laws which pervade all things for
the conservation of every mortal race, and which bring things that fit
one another into harmony.
Footnotes
[1280] He refers to the giant Cacus.
[1281] Æneid, viii. 195.
Chapter 13.--Of the Universal Peace Which the Law of Nature Preserves
Through All Disturbances, and by Which Every One Reaches His Desert in
a Way Regulated by the Just Judge.
The peace of the body then consists in the duly proportioned
arrangement of its parts. The peace of the irrational soul is the
harmonious repose of the appetites, and that of the rational soul the
harmony of knowledge and action. The peace of body and soul is the
well-ordered and harmonious life and health of the living creature.
Peace between man and God is the well-ordered obedience of faith to
eternal law. Peace between man and man is well-ordered concord.
Domestic peace is the well-ordered concord between those of the family
who rule and those who obey. Civil peace is a similar concord among
the citizens. The peace of the celestial city is the perfectly
ordered and harmonious enjoyment of God, and of one another in God.
The peace of all things is the tranquillity of order. Order is the
distribution which allots things equal and unequal, each to its own
place. And hence, though the miserable, in so far as they are such,
do certainly not enjoy peace, but are severed from that tranquillity
of order in which there is no disturbance, nevertheless, inasmuch as
they are deservedly and justly miserable, they are by their very
misery connected with order. They are not, indeed, conjoined with the
blessed, but they are disjoined from them by the law of order. And
though they are disquieted, their circumstances are notwithstanding
adjusted to them, and consequently they have some tranquillity of
order, and therefore some peace. But they are wretched because,
although not wholly miserable, they are not in that place where any
mixture of misery is impossible. They would, however, be more
wretched if they had not that peace which arises from being in harmony
with the natural order of things. When they suffer, their peace is in
so far disturbed; but their peace continues in so far as they do not
suffer, and in so far as their nature continues to exist. As, then,
there may be life without pain, while there cannot be pain without
some kind of life, so there may be peace without war, but there cannot
be war without some kind of peace, because war supposes the existence
of some natures to wage it, and these natures cannot exist without
peace of one kind or other.
And therefore there is a nature in which evil does not or even cannot
exist; but there cannot be a nature in which there is no good. Hence
not even the nature of the devil himself is evil, in so far as it is
nature, but it was made evil by being perverted. Thus he did not
abide in the truth, [1282] but could not escape the judgment of the
Truth; he did not abide in the tranquillity of order, but did not
therefore escape the power of the Ordainer. The good imparted by God
to his nature did not screen him from the justice of God by which
order was preserved in his punishment; neither did God punish the good
which He had created, but the evil which the devil had committed. God
did not take back all He had imparted to his nature, but something He
took and something He left, that there might remain enough to be
sensible of the loss of what was taken. And this very sensibility to
pain is evidence of the good which has been taken away and the good
which has been left. For, were nothing good left, there could be no
pain on account of the good which had been lost. For he who sins is
still worse if he rejoices in his loss of righteousness. But he who
is in pain, if he derives no benefit from it, mourns at least the loss
of health. And as righteousness and health are both good things, and
as the loss of any good thing is matter of grief, not of joy,--if, at
least, there is no compensation, as spiritual righteousness may
compensate for the loss of bodily health,--certainly it is more
suitable for a wicked man to grieve in punishment than to rejoice in
his fault. As, then, the joy of a sinner who has abandoned what is
good is evidence of a bad will, so his grief for the good he has lost
when he is punished is evidence of a good nature. For he who laments
the peace his nature has lost is stirred to do so by some relics of
peace which make his nature friendly to itself. And it is very just
that in the final punishment the wicked and godless should in anguish
bewail the loss of the natural advantages they enjoyed, and should
perceive that they were most justly taken from them by that God whose
benign liberality they had despised. God, then, the most wise Creator
and most just Ordainer of all natures, who placed the human race upon
earth as its greatest ornament, imparted to men some good things
adapted to this life, to wit, temporal peace, such as we can enjoy in
this life from health and safety and human fellowship, and all things
needful for the preservation and recovery of this peace, such as the
objects which are accommodated to our outward senses, light, night,
the air, and waters suitable for us, and everything the body requires
to sustain, shelter, heal, or beautify it: and all under this most
equitable condition, that every man who made a good use of these
advantages suited to the peace of this mortal condition, should
receive ampler and better blessings, namely, the peace of immortality,
accompanied by glory and honor in an endless life made fit for the
enjoyment of God and of one another in God; but that he who used the
present blessings badly should both lose them and should not receive
the others.
Footnotes
[1282] John viii. 44.
Chapter 14.--Of the Order and Law Which Obtain in Heaven and Earth,
Whereby It Comes to Pass that Human Society Is Served by Those Who
Rule It.
The whole use, then, of things temporal has a reference to this result
of earthly peace in the earthly community, while in the city of God it
is connected with eternal peace. And therefore, if we were irrational
animals, we should desire nothing beyond the proper arrangement of the
parts of the body and the satisfaction of the appetites,--nothing,
therefore, but bodily comfort and abundance of pleasures, that the
peace of the body might contribute to the peace of the soul. For if
bodily peace be awanting, a bar is put to the peace even of the
irrational soul, since it cannot obtain the gratification of its
appetites. And these two together help out the mutual peace of soul
and body, the peace of harmonious life and health. For as animals, by
shunning pain, show that they love bodily peace, and, by pursuing
pleasure to gratify their appetites, show that they love peace of
soul, so their shrinking from death is a sufficient indication of
their intense love of that peace which binds soul and body in close
alliance. But, as man has a rational soul, he subordinates all this
which he has in common with the beasts to the peace of his rational
soul, that his intellect may have free play and may regulate his
actions, and that he may thus enjoy the well-ordered harmony of
knowledge and action which constitutes, as we have said, the peace of
the rational soul. And for this purpose he must desire to be neither
molested by pain, nor disturbed by desire, nor extinguished by death,
that he may arrive at some useful knowledge by which he may regulate
his life and manners. But, owing to the liability of the human mind
to fall into mistakes, this very pursuit of knowledge may be a snare
to him unless he has a divine Master, whom he may obey without
misgiving, and who may at the same time give him such help as to
preserve his own freedom. And because, so long as he is in this
mortal body, he is a stranger to God, he walks by faith, not by sight;
and he therefore refers all peace, bodily or spiritual or both, to
that peace which mortal man has with the immortal God, so that he
exhibits the well-ordered obedience of faith to eternal law. But as
this divine Master inculcates two precepts,--the love of God and the
love of our neighbor,--and as in these precepts a man finds three
things he has to love,--God, himself, and his neighbor,--and that he
who loves God loves himself thereby, it follows that he must endeavor
to get his neighbor to love God, since he is ordered to love his
neighbor as himself. He ought to make this endeavor in behalf of his
wife, his children, his household, all within his reach, even as he
would wish his neighbor to do the same for him if he needed it; and
consequently he will be at peace, or in well-ordered concord, with all
men, as far as in him lies. And this is the order of this concord,
that a man, in the first place, injure no one, and, in the second, do
good to every one he can reach. Primarily, therefore, his own
household are his care, for the law of nature and of society gives him
readier access to them and greater opportunity of serving them. And
hence the apostle says, "Now, if any provide not for his own, and
specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is
worse than an infidel." [1283]This is the origin of domestic peace,
or the well-ordered concord of those in the family who rule and those
who obey. For they who care for the rest rule,--the husband the wife,
the parents the children, the masters the servants; and they who are
cared for obey,--the women their husbands, the children their parents,
the servants their masters. But in the family of the just man who
lives by faith and is as yet a pilgrim journeying on to the celestial
city, even those who rule serve those whom they seem to command; for
they rule not from a love of power, but from a sense of the duty they
owe to others--not because they are proud of authority, but because
they love mercy.
Footnotes
[1283] 1 Tim. v. 8.
Chapter 15.--Of the Liberty Proper to Man's Nature, and the Servitude
Introduced by Sin,--A Servitude in Which the Man Whose Will is Wicked
is the Slave of His Own Lust, Though He is Free So Far as Regards
Other Men.
This is prescribed by the order of nature: it is thus that God has
created man. For "let them," He says, "have dominion over the fish of
the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every creeping thing
which creepeth on the earth." [1284]He did not intend that His
rational creature, who was made in His image, should have dominion
over anything but the irrational creation,--not man over man, but man
over the beasts. And hence the righteous men in primitive times were
made shepherds of cattle rather than kings of men, God intending thus
to teach us what the relative position of the creatures is, and what
the desert of sin; for it is with justice, we believe, that the
condition of slavery is the result of sin. And this is why we do not
find the word "slave" in any part of Scripture until righteous Noah
branded the sin of his son with this name. It is a name, therefore,
introduced by sin and not by nature. The origin of the Latin word for
slave is supposed to be found in the circumstance that those who by
the law of war were liable to be killed were sometimes preserved by
their victors, and were hence called servants. [1285]And these
circumstances could never have arisen save through sin. For even when
we wage a just war, our adversaries must be sinning; and every
victory, even though gained by wicked men, is a result of the first
judgment of God, who humbles the vanquished either for the sake of
removing or of punishing their sins. Witness that man of God, Daniel,
who, when he was in captivity, confessed to God his own sins and the
sins of his people, and declares with pious grief that these were the
cause of the captivity. [1286]The prime cause, then, of slavery is
sin, which brings man under the dominion of his fellow,--that which
does not happen save by the judgment of God, with whom is no
unrighteousness, and who knows how to award fit punishments to every
variety of offence. But our Master in heaven says, "Every one who
doeth sin is the servant of sin." [1287]And thus there are many
wicked masters who have religious men as their slaves, and who are yet
themselves in bondage; "for of whom a man is overcome, of the same is
he brought in bondage." [1288]And beyond question it is a happier
thing to be the slave of a man than of a lust; for even this very lust
of ruling, to mention no others, lays waste men's hearts with the most
ruthless dominion. Moreover, when men are subjected to one another in
a peaceful order, the lowly position does as much good to the servant
as the proud position does harm to the master. But by nature, as God
first created us, no one is the slave either of man or of sin. This
servitude is, however, penal, and is appointed by that law which
enjoins the preservation of the natural order and forbids its
disturbance; for if nothing had been done in violation of that law,
there would have been nothing to restrain by penal servitude. And
therefore the apostle admonishes slaves to be subject to their
masters, and to serve them heartily and with good-will, so that, if
they cannot be freed by their masters, they may themselves make their
slavery in some sort free, by serving not in crafty fear, but in
faithful love, until all unrighteousness pass away, and all
principality and every human power be brought to nothing, and God be
all in all.
Footnotes
[1284] Gen. i. 26.
[1285] Servus, "a slave," from servare, "to preserve."
[1286] Dan. ix.
[1287] John viii. 34.
[1288] 2 Pet. ii. 19.
Chapter 16.--Of Equitable Rule.
And therefore, although our righteous fathers [1289] had slaves, and
administered their domestic affairs so as to distinguish between the
condition of slaves and the heirship of sons in regard to the
blessings of this life, yet in regard to the worship of God, in whom
we hope for eternal blessings, they took an equally loving oversight
of all the members of their household. And this is so much in
accordance with the natural order, that the head of the household was
called paterfamilias; and this name has been so generally accepted,
that even those whose rule is unrighteous are glad to apply it to
themselves. But those who are true fathers of their households desire
and endeavor that all the members of their household, equally with
their own children, should worship and win God, and should come to
that heavenly home in which the duty of ruling men is no longer
necessary, because the duty of caring for their everlasting happiness
has also ceased; but, until they reach that home, masters ought to
feel their position of authority a greater burden than servants their
service. And if any member of the family interrupts the domestic
peace by disobedience, he is corrected either by word or blow, or some
kind of just and legitimate punishment, such as society permits, that
he may himself be the better for it, and be readjusted to the family
harmony from which he had dislocated himself. For as it is not
benevolent to give a man help at the expense of some greater benefit
he might receive, so it is not innocent to spare a man at the risk of
his falling into graver sin. To be innocent, we must not only do harm
to no man, but also restrain him from sin or punish his sin, so that
either the man himself who is punished may profit by his experience,
or others be warned by his example. Since, then, the house ought to
be the beginning or element of the city, and every beginning bears
reference to some end of its own kind, and every element to the
integrity of the whole of which it is an element, it follows plainly
enough that domestic peace has a relation to civic peace,--in other
words, that the well-ordered concord of domestic obedience and
domestic rule has a relation to the well-ordered concord of civic
obedience and civic rule. And therefore it follows, further, that the
father of the family ought to frame his domestic rule in accordance
with the law of the city, so that the household may be in harmony with
the civic order.
Footnotes
[1289] The patriarchs.
Chapter 17.--What Produces Peace, and What Discord, Between the
Heavenly and Earthly Cities.
But the families which do not live by faith seek their peace in the
earthly advantages of this life; while the families which live by
faith look for those eternal blessings which are promised, and use as
pilgrims such advantages of time and of earth as do not fascinate and
divert them from God, but rather aid them to endure with greater ease,
and to keep down the number of those burdens of the corruptible body
which weigh upon the soul. Thus the things necessary for this mortal
life are used by both kinds of men and families alike, but each has
its own peculiar and widely different aim in using them. The earthly
city, which does not live by faith, seeks an earthly peace, and the
end it proposes, in the well-ordered concord of civic obedience and
rule, is the combination of men's wills to attain the things which are
helpful to this life. The heavenly city, or rather the part of it
which sojourns on earth and lives by faith, makes use of this peace
only because it must, until this mortal condition which necessitates
it shall pass away. Consequently, so long as it lives like a captive
and a stranger in the earthly city, though it has already received the
promise of redemption, and the gift of the Spirit as the earnest of
it, it makes no scruple to obey the laws of the earthly city, whereby
the things necessary for the maintenance of this mortal life are
administered; and thus, as this life is common to both cities, so
there is a harmony between them in regard to what belongs to it. But,
as the earthly city has had some philosophers whose doctrine is
condemned by the divine teaching, and who, being deceived either by
their own conjectures or by demons, supposed that many gods must be
invited to take an interest in human affairs, and assigned to each a
separate function and a separate department,--to one the body, to
another the soul; and in the body itself, to one the head, to another
the neck, and each of the other members to one of the gods; and in
like manner, in the soul, to one god the natural capacity was
assigned, to another education, to another anger, to another lust; and
so the various affairs of life were assigned,--cattle to one, corn to
another, wine to another, oil to another, the woods to another, money
to another, navigation to another, wars and victories to another,
marriages to another, births and fecundity to another, and other
things to other gods: and as the celestial city, on the other hand,
knew that one God only was to be worshipped, and that to Him alone was
due that service which the Greeks call latreia, and which can be given
only to a god, it has come to pass that the two cities could not have
common laws of religion, and that the heavenly city has been compelled
in this matter to dissent, and to become obnoxious to those who think
differently, and to stand the brunt of their anger and hatred and
persecutions, except in so far as the minds of their enemies have been
alarmed by the multitude of the Christians and quelled by the manifest
protection of God accorded to them. This heavenly city, then, while
it sojourns on earth, calls citizens out of all nations, and gathers
together a society of pilgrims of all languages, not scrupling about
diversities in the manners, laws, and institutions whereby earthly
peace is secured and maintained, but recognizing that, however various
these are, they all tend to one and the same end of earthly peace. It
therefore is so far from rescinding and abolishing these diversities,
that it even preserves and adopts them, so long only as no hindrance
to the worship of the one supreme and true God is thus introduced.
Even the heavenly city, therefore, while in its state of pilgrimage,
avails itself of the peace of earth, and, so far as it can without
injuring faith and godliness, desires and maintains a common agreement
among men regarding the acquisition of the necessaries of life, and
makes this earthly peace bear upon the peace of heaven; for this alone
can be truly called and esteemed the peace of the reasonable
creatures, consisting as it does in the perfectly ordered and
harmonious enjoyment of God and of one another in God. When we shall
have reached that peace, this mortal life shall give place to one that
is eternal, and our body shall be no more this animal body which by
its corruption weighs down the soul, but a spiritual body feeling no
want, and in all its members subjected to the will. In its pilgrim
state the heavenly city possesses this peace by faith; and by this
faith it lives righteously when it refers to the attainment of that
peace every good action towards God and man; for the life of the city
is a social life.
Chapter 18.--How Different the Uncertainty of the New Academy is from
the Certainty of the Christian Faith.
As regards the uncertainty about everything which Varro alleges to be
the differentiating characteristic of the New Academy, the city of God
thoroughly detests such doubt as madness. Regarding matters which it
apprehends by the mind and reason it has most absolute certainty,
although its knowledge is limited because of the corruptible body
pressing down the mind, for, as the apostle says, "We know in part."
[1290]It believes also the evidence of the senses which the mind
uses by aid of the body; for [if one who trusts his senses is
sometimes deceived], he is more wretchedly deceived who fancies he
should never trust them. It believes also the Holy Scriptures, old
and new, which we call canonical, and which are the source of the
faith by which the just lives [1291] and by which we walk without
doubting whilst we are absent from the Lord. [1292]So long as this
faith remains inviolate and firm, we may without blame entertain
doubts regarding some things which we have neither perceived by sense
nor by reason, and which have not been revealed to us by the canonical
Scriptures, nor come to our knowledge through witnesses whom it is
absurd to disbelieve.
Footnotes
[1290] 1 Cor. xiii. 9.
[1291] Hab. ii. 4.
[1292] 2 Cor. v. 6.
Chapter 19.--Of the Dress and Habits of the Christian People.
It is a matter of no moment in the city of God whether he who adopts
the faith that brings men to God adopts it in one dress and manner of
life or another, so long only as he lives in conformity with the
commandments of God. And hence, when philosophers themselves become
Christians, they are compelled, indeed, to abandon their erroneous
doctrines, but not their dress and mode of living, which are no
obstacle to religion. So that we make no account of that distinction
of sects which Varro adduced in connection with the Cynic school,
provided always nothing indecent or self-indulgent is retained. As to
these three modes of life, the contemplative, the active, and the
composite, although, so long as a man's faith is preserved, he may
choose any of them without detriment to his eternal interests, yet he
must never overlook the claims of truth and duty. No man has a right
to lead such a life of contemplation as to forget in his own ease the
service due to his neighbor; nor has any man a right to be so immersed
in active life as to neglect the contemplation of God. The charm of
leisure must not be indolent vacancy of mind, but the investigation or
discovery of truth, that thus every man may make solid attainments
without grudging that others do the same. And, in active life, it is
not the honors or power of this life we should covet, since all things
under the sun are vanity, but we should aim at using our position and
influence, if these have been honorably attained, for the welfare of
those who are under us, in the way we have already explained. [1293]
It is to this the apostle refers when he says, "He that desireth the
episcopate desireth a good work." [1294]He wished to show that the
episcopate is the title of a work, not of an honor. It is a Greek
word, and signifies that he who governs superintends or takes care of
those whom he governs: for epi means over, and skopein, to see;
therefore episkopein means "to oversee." [1295]So that he who loves
to govern rather than to do good is no bishop. Accordingly no one is
prohibited from the search after truth, for in this leisure may most
laudably be spent; but it is unseemly to covet the high position
requisite for governing the people, even though that position be held
and that government be administered in a seemly manner. And therefore
holy leisure is longed for by the love of truth; but it is the
necessity of love to undertake requisite business. If no one imposes
this burden upon us, we are free to sift and contemplate truth; but if
it be laid upon us, we are necessitated for love's sake to undertake
it. And yet not even in this case are we obliged wholly to relinquish
the sweets of contemplation; for were these to be withdrawn, the
burden might prove more than we could bear.
Footnotes
[1293] Ch. 6.
[1294] 1 Tim. iii. 1.
[1295] Augustin's words are: eti, quippe, super; skopos, vero,
intentio est: ergo episkopein, si velimus, latine superintendere
possumus dicere.
Chapter 20.--That the Saints are in This Life Blessed in Hope.
Since, then, the supreme good of the city of God is perfect and
eternal peace, not such as mortals pass into and out of by birth and
death, but the peace of freedom from all evil, in which the immortals
ever abide; who can deny that that future life is most blessed, or
that, in comparison with it, this life which now we live is most
wretched, be it filled with all blessings of body and soul and
external things? And yet, if any man uses this life with a reference
to that other which he ardently loves and confidently hopes for, he
may well be called even now blessed, though not in reality so much as
in hope. But the actual possession of the happiness of this life,
without the hope of what is beyond, is but a false happiness and
profound misery. For the true blessings of the soul are not now
enjoyed; for that is no true wisdom which does not direct all its
prudent observations, manly actions, virtuous self-restraint, and just
arrangements, to that end in which God shall be all and all in a
secure eternity and perfect peace.
Chapter 21.--Whether There Ever Was a Roman Republic Answering to the
Definitions of Scipio in Cicero's Dialogue.
This, then, is the place where I should fulfill the promise gave in
the second book of this work, [1296] and explain, as briefly and
clearly as possible, that if we are to accept the definitions laid
down by Scipio in Cicero's De Republica, there never was a Roman
republic; for he briefly defines a republic as the weal of the
people. And if this definition be true, there never was a Roman
republic, for the people's weal was never attained among the Romans.
For the people, according to his definition, is an assemblage
associated by a common acknowledgment of right and by a community of
interests. And what he means by a common acknowledgment of right he
explains at large, showing that a republic cannot be administered
without justice. Where, therefore, there is no true justice there can
be no right. For that which is done by right is justly done, and what
is unjustly done cannot be done by right. For the unjust inventions
of men are neither to be considered nor spoken of as rights; for even
they themselves say that right is that which flows from the fountain
of justice, and deny the definition which is commonly given by those
who misconceive the matter, that right is that which is useful to the
stronger party. Thus, where there is not true justice there can be no
assemblage of men associated by a common acknowledgment of right, and
therefore there can be no people, as defined by Scipio or Cicero; and
if no people, then no weal of the people, but only of some promiscuous
multitude unworthy of the name of people. Consequently, if the
republic is the weal of the people, and there is no people if it be
not associated by a common acknowledgment of right, and if there is no
right where there is no justice, then most certainly it follows that
there is no republic where there is no justice. Further, justice is
that virtue which gives every one his due. Where, then, is the
justice of man, when he deserts the true God and yields himself to
impure demons? Is this to give every one his due? Or is he who keeps
back a piece of ground from the purchaser, and gives it to a man who
has no right to it, unjust, while he who keeps back himself from the
God who made him, and serves wicked spirits, is just?
This same book, De Republica, advocates the cause of justice against
injustice with great force and keenness. The pleading for injustice
against justice was first heard, and it was asserted that without
injustice a republic could neither increase nor even subsist, for it
was laid down as an absolutely unassailable position that it is unjust
for some men to rule and some to serve; and yet the imperial city to
which the republic belongs cannot rule her provinces without having
recourse to this injustice. It was replied in behalf of justice, that
this ruling of the provinces is just, because servitude may be
advantageous to the provincials, and is so when rightly
administered,--that is to say, when lawless men are prevented from
doing harm. And further, as they became worse and worse so long as
they were free, they will improve by subjection. To confirm this
reasoning, there is added an eminent example drawn from nature: for
"why," it is asked, "does God rule man, the soul the body, the reason
the passions and other vicious parts of the soul?" This example
leaves no doubt that, to some, servitude is useful; and, indeed, to
serve God is useful to all. And it is when the soul serves God that
it exercises a right control over the body; and in the soul itself the
reason must be subject to God if it is to govern as it ought the
passions and other vices. Hence, when a man does not serve God, what
justice can we ascribe to him, since in this case his soul cannot
exercise a just control over the body, nor his reason over his vices?
And if there is no justice in such an individual, certainly there can
be none in a community composed of such persons. Here, therefore,
there is not that common acknowledgment of right which makes an
assemblage of men a people whose affairs we call a republic. And why
need I speak of the advantageousness, the common participation in
which, according to the definition, makes a people? For although, if
you choose to regard the matter attentively, you will see that there
is nothing advantageous to those who live godlessly, as every one
lives who does not serve God but demons, whose wickedness you may
measure by their desire to receive the worship of men though they are
most impure spirits, yet what I have said of the common acknowledgment
of right is enough to demonstrate that, according to the above
definition, there can be no people, and therefore no republic, where
there is no justice. For if they assert that in their republic the
Romans did not serve unclean spirits, but good and holy gods, must we
therefore again reply to this evasion, though already we have said
enough, and more than enough, to expose it? He must be an uncommonly
stupid, or a shamelessly contentious person, who has read through the
foregoing books to this point, and can yet question whether the Romans
served wicked and impure demons. But, not to speak of their
character, it is written in the law of the true God, "He that
sacrificeth unto any god save unto the Lord only, he shall be utterly
destroyed." [1297]He, therefore, who uttered so menacing a
commandment decreed that no worship should be given either to good or
bad gods.
Footnotes
[1296] Ch. 21.
[1297] Ex. xxii. 20.
Chapter 22.--Whether the God Whom the Christians Serve is the True God
to Whom Alone Sacrifice Ought to Be Paid.
But it may be replied, Who is this God, or what proof is there that He
alone is worthy to receive sacrifice from the Romans? One must be
very blind to be still asking who this God is. He is the God whose
prophets predicted the things we see accomplished. He is the God from
whom Abraham received the assurance, "In thy seed shall all nations be
blessed." [1298]That this was fulfilled in Christ, who according to
the flesh sprang from that seed, is recognized, whether they will or
no, even by those who have continued to be the enemies of this name.
He is the God whose divine Spirit spake by the men whose predictions I
cited in the preceding books, and which are fulfilled in the Church
which has extended over all the world. This is the God whom Varro,
the most learned of the Romans, supposed to be Jupiter, though he
knows not what he says; yet I think it right to note the circumstance
that a man of such learning was unable to suppose that this God had no
existence or was contemptible, but believed Him to be the same as the
supreme God. In fine, He is the God whom Porphyry, the most learned
of the philosophers, though the bitterest enemy of the Christians,
confesses to be a great God, even according to the oracles of those
whom he esteems gods.
Footnotes
[1298] Gen. xxii. 18.
Chapter 23.--Porphyry's Account of the Responses Given by the Oracles
of the gods Concerning Christ.
For in his book called ek logion philosophias, in which he collects
and comments upon the responses which he pretends were uttered by the
gods concerning divine things, he says--I give his own words as they
have been translated from the Greek: "To one who inquired what god he
should propitiate in order to recall his wife from Christianity,
Apollo replied in the following verses." Then the following words are
given as those of Apollo: "You will probably find it easier to write
lasting characters on the water, or lightly fly like a bird through
the air, than to restore right feeling in your impious wife once she
has polluted herself. Let her remain as she pleases in her foolish
deception, and sing false laments to her dead God, who was condemned
by right-minded judges, and perished ignominiously by a violent
death." Then after these verses of Apollo (which we have given in a
Latin version that does not preserve the metrical form), he goes on to
say: "In these verses Apollo exposed the incurable corruption of the
Christians, saying that the Jews, rather than the Christians,
recognized God." See how he misrepresents Christ, giving the Jews the
preference to the Christians in the recognition of God. This was his
explanation of Apollo's verses, in which he says that Christ was put
to death by right-minded or just judges,--in other words, that He
deserved to die. I leave the responsibility of this oracle regarding
Christ on the lying interpreter of Apollo, or on this philosopher who
believed it or possibly himself invented it; as to its agreement with
Porphyry's opinions or with other oracles, we shall in a little have
something to say. In this passage, however, he says that the Jews, as
the interpreters of God, judged justly in pronouncing Christ to be
worthy of the most shameful death. He should have listened, then, to
this God of the Jews to whom he bears this testimony, when that God
says, "He that sacrificeth to any other god save to the Lord alone
shall be utterly destroyed." But let us come to still plainer
expressions, and hear how great a God Porphyry thinks the God of the
Jews is. Apollo, he says, when asked whether word, i.e., reason, or
law is the better thing, replied in the following verses. Then he
gives the verses of Apollo, from which I select the following as
sufficient: "God, the Generator, and the King prior to all things,
before whom heaven and earth, and the sea, and the hidden places of
hell tremble, and the deities themselves are afraid, for their law is
the Father whom the holy Hebrews honor." In this oracle of his god
Apollo, Porphyry avowed that the God of the Hebrews is so great that
the deities themselves are afraid before Him. I am surprised,
therefore, that when God said, He that sacrificeth to other gods shall
be utterly destroyed, Porphyry himself was not afraid lest he should
be destroyed for sacrificing to other gods.
This philosopher, however, has also some good to say of Christ,
oblivious, as it were, of that contumely of his of which we have just
been speaking; or as if his gods spoke evil of Christ only while
asleep, and recognized Him to be good, and gave Him His deserved
praise, when they awoke. For, as if he were about to proclaim some
marvellous thing passing belief, he says, "What we are going to say
will certainly take some by surprise. For the gods have declared that
Christ was very pious, and has become immortal, and that they cherish
his memory: that the Christians, however, are polluted, contaminated,
and involved in error. And many other such things," he says, "do the
gods say against the Christians." Then he gives specimens of the
accusations made, as he says, by the gods against them, and then goes
on: "But to some who asked Hecate whether Christ were a God, she
replied, You know the condition of the disembodied immortal soul, and
that if it has been severed from wisdom it always errs. The soul you
refer to is that of a man foremost in piety: they worship it because
they mistake the truth." To this so-called oracular response he adds
the following words of his own: "Of this very pious man, then, Hecate
said that the soul, like the souls of other good men, was after death
dowered with immortality, and that the Christians through ignorance
worship it. And to those who ask why he was condemned to die, the
oracle of the goddess replied, The body, indeed, is always exposed to
torments, but the souls of the pious abide in heaven. And the soul
you inquire about has been the fatal cause of error to other souls
which were not fated to receive the gifts of the gods, and to have the
knowledge of immortal Jove. Such souls are therefore hated by the
gods; for they who were fated not to receive the gifts of the gods,
and not to know God, were fated to be involved in error by means of
him you speak of. He himself, however, was good, and heaven has been
opened to him as to other good men. You are not, then, to speak evil
of him, but to pity the folly of men: and through him men's danger is
imminent."
Who is so foolish as not to see that these oracles were either
composed by a clever man with a strong animus against the Christians,
or were uttered as responses by impure demons with a similar
design,--that is to say, in order that their praise of Christ may win
credence for their vituperation of Christians; and that thus they may,
if possible, close the way of eternal salvation, which is identical
with Christianity? For they believe that they are by no means counter
working their own hurtful craft by promoting belief in Christ, so long
as their calumniation of Christians is also accepted; for they thus
secure that even the man who thinks well of Christ declines to become
a Christian, and is therefore not delivered from their own rule by the
Christ he praises. Besides, their praise of Christ is so contrived
that whosoever believes in Him as thus represented will not be a true
Christian but a Photinian heretic, recognizing only the humanity, and
not also the divinity of Christ, and will thus be precluded from
salvation and from deliverance out of the meshes of these devilish
lies. For our part, we are no better pleased with Hecate's praises of
Christ than with Apollo's calumniation of Him. Apollo says that
Christ was put to death by right-minded judges, implying that He was
unrighteous. Hecate says that He was a most pious man, but no more.
The intention of both is the same, to prevent men from becoming
Christians, because if this be secured, men shall never be rescued
from their power. But it is incumbent on our philosopher, or rather
on those who believe in these pretended oracles against the
Christians, first of all, if they can, to bring Apollo and Hecate to
the same mind regarding Christ, so that either both may condemn or
both praise Him. And even if they succeeded in this, we for our part
would notwithstanding repudiate the testimony of demons, whether
favorable or adverse to Christ. But when our adversaries find a god
and goddess of their own at variance about Christ the one praising,
the other vituperating Him, they can certainly give no credence, if
they have any judgment, to mere men who blaspheme the Christians.
When Porphyry or Hecate praises Christ, and adds that He gave Himself
to the Christians as a fatal gift, that they might be involved in
error, he exposes, as he thinks, the causes of this error. But before
I cite his words to that purpose, I would ask, If Christ did thus give
Himself to the Christians to involve them in error, did He do so
willingly, or against His will? If willingly, how is He righteous?
If against His will, how is He blessed? However, let us hear the
causes of this error. "There are," he says," in a certain place very
small earthly spirits, subject to the power of evil demons. The wise
men of the Hebrews, among whom was this Jesus, as you have heard from
the oracles of Apollo cited above, turned religious persons from these
very wicked demons and minor spirits, and taught them rather to
worship the celestial gods, and especially to adore God the Father.
This," he said, "the gods enjoin; and we have already shown how they
admonish the soul to turn to God, and command it to worship Him. But
the ignorant and the ungodly, who are not destined to receive favors
from the gods, nor to know the immortal Jupiter, not listening to the
gods and their messages, have turned away from all gods, and have not
only refused to hate, but have venerated the prohibited demons.
Professing to worship God, they refuse to do those things by which
alone God is worshipped. For God, indeed, being the Father of all, is
in need of nothing; but for us it is good to adore Him by means of
justice, chastity, and other virtues, and thus to make life itself a
prayer to Him, by inquiring into and imitating His nature. For
inquiry," says he, "purifies and imitation deifies us, by moving us
nearer to Him." He is right in so far as he proclaims God the Father,
and the conduct by which we should worship Him. Of such precepts the
prophetic books of the Hebrews are full, when they praise or blame the
life of the saints. But in speaking of the Christians he is in error,
and caluminates them as much as is desired by the demons whom he takes
for gods, as if it were difficult for any man to recollect the
disgraceful and shameful actions which used to be done in the theatres
and temples to please the gods, and to compare with these things what
is heard in our churches, and what is offered to the true God, and
from this comparison to conclude where character is edified, and where
it is ruined. But who but a diabolical spirit has told or suggested
to this man so manifest and vain a lie, as that the Christians
reverenced rather than hated the demons, whose worship the Hebrews
prohibited? But that God, whom the Hebrew sages worshipped, forbids
sacrifice to be offered even to the holy angels of heaven and divine
powers, whom we, in this our pilgrimage, venerate and love as our most
blessed fellow-citizens. For in the law which God gave to His Hebrew
people He utters this menace, as in a voice of thunder: "He that
sacrificeth unto any god, save unto the Lord only, he shall be utterly
destroyed." [1299]And that no one might suppose that this
prohibition extends only to the very wicked demons and earthly
spirits, whom this philosopher calls very small and inferior,--for
even these are in the Scripture called gods, not of the Hebrews, but
of the nations, as the Septuagint translators have shown in the psalm
where it is said, "For all the gods of the nations are demons," [1300]
--that no one might suppose, I say, that sacrifice to these demons was
prohibited, but that sacrifice might be offered to all or some of the
celestials, it was immediately added, "save unto the Lord alone."
[1301]The God of the Hebrews, then, to whom this renowned
philosopher bears this signal testimony, gave to His Hebrew people a
law, composed in the Hebrew language, and not obscure and unknown, but
published now in every nation, and in this law it is written, "He that
sacrificeth unto any god, save unto the Lord alone, he shall be
utterly destroyed." What need is there to seek further proofs in the
law or the prophets of this same thing? Seek, we need not say, for
the passages are neither few nor difficult to find; but what need to
collect and apply to my argument the proofs which are thickly sown and
obvious, and by which it appears clear as day that sacrifice may be
paid to none but the supreme and true God? Here is one brief but
decided, even menacing, and certainly true utterance of that God whom
the wisest of our adversaries so highly extol. Let this be listened
to, feared, fulfilled, that there may be no disobedient soul cut off.
"He that sacrifices," He says, not because He needs anything, but
because it behoves us to be His possession. Hence the Psalmist in the
Hebrew Scriptures sings, "I have said to the Lord, Thou art my God,
for Thou needest not my good." [1302]For we ourselves, who are His
own city, are His most noble and worthy sacrifice, and it is this
mystery we celebrate in our sacrifices, which are well known to the
faithful, as we have explained in the preceding books. For through
the prophets the oracles of God declared that the sacrifices which the
Jews offered as a shadow of that which was to be would cease, and that
the nations, from the rising to the setting of the sun, would offer
one sacrifice. From these oracles, which we now see accomplished, we
have made such selections as seemed suitable to our purpose in this
work. And therefore, where there is not this righteousness whereby
the one supreme God rules the obedient city according to His grace, so
that it sacrifices to none but Him, and whereby, in all the citizens
of this obedient city, the soul consequently rules the body and reason
the vices in the rightful order, so that, as the individual just man,
so also the community and people of the just, live by faith, which
works by love, that love whereby man loves God as He ought to be
loved, and his neighbor as himself,--there, I say, there is not an
assemblage associated by a common acknowledgment of right, and by a
community of interests. But if there is not this, there is not a
people, if our definition be true, and therefore there is no republic;
for where there is no people there can be no republic.
Footnotes
[1299] Ex. xxii. 20.
[1300] Ps. xcvi. 5.
[1301] Augustin here warns his readers against a possible
misunderstanding of the Latin word for alone (soli), which might be
rendered "the sun."
[1302] Ps. xvi. 2.
Chapter 24.--The Definition Which Must Be Given of a People and a
Republic, in Order to Vindicate the Assumption of These Titles by the
Romans and by Other Kingdoms.
But if we discard this definition of a people, and, assuming another,
say that a people is an assemblage of reasonable beings bound together
by a common agreement as to the objects of their love, then, in order
to discover the character of any people, we have only to observe what
they love. Yet whatever it loves, if only it is an assemblage of
reasonable beings and not of beasts, and is bound together by an
agreement as to the objects of love, it is reasonably called a people;
and it will be a superior people in proportion as it is bound together
by higher interests, inferior in proportion as it is bound together by
lower. According to this definition of ours, the Roman people is a
people, and its weal is without doubt a commonwealth or republic. But
what its tastes were in its early and subsequent days, and how it
declined into sanguinary seditions and then to social and civil wars,
and so burst asunder or rotted off the bond of concord in which the
health of a people consists, history shows, and in the preceding books
I have related at large. And yet I would not on this account say
either that it was not a people, or that its administration was not a
republic, so long as there remains an assemblage of reasonable beings
bound together by a common agreement as to the objects of love. But
what I say of this people and of this republic I must be understood to
think and say of the Athenians or any Greek state, of the Egyptians,
of the early Assyrian Babylon, and of every other nation, great or
small, which had a public government. For, in general, the city of
the ungodly, which did not obey the command of God that it should
offer no sacrifice save to Him alone, and which, therefore, could not
give to the soul its proper command over the body, nor to the reason
its just authority over the vices, is void of true justice.
Chapter 25.--That Where There is No True Religion There are No True
Virtues.
For though the soul may seem to rule the body admirably, and the
reason the vices, if the soul and reason do not themselves obey God,
as God has commanded them to serve Him, they have no proper authority
over the body and the vices. For what kind of mistress of the body
and the vices can that mind be which is ignorant of the true God, and
which, instead of being subject to His authority, is prostituted to
the corrupting influences of the most vicious demons? It is for this
reason that the virtues which it seems to itself to possess, and by
which it restrains the body and the vices that it may obtain and keep
what it desires, are rather vices than virtues so long as there is no
reference to God in the matter. For although some suppose that
virtues which have a reference only to themselves, and are desired
only on their own account, are yet true and genuine virtues, the fact
is that even then they are inflated with pride, and are therefore to
be reckoned vices rather than virtues. For as that which gives life
to the flesh is not derived from flesh, but is above it, so that which
gives blessed life to man is not derived from man, but is something
above him; and what I say of man is true of every celestial power and
virtue whatsoever.
Chapter 26.--Of the Peace Which is Enjoyed by the People that are
Alienated from God, and the Use Made of It by the People of God in the
Time of Its Pilgrimage.
Wherefore, as the life of the flesh is the soul, so the blessed life
of man is God, of whom the sacred writings of the Hebrews say,
"Blessed is the people whose God is the Lord." [1303]Miserable,
therefore, is the people which is alienated from God. Yet even this
people has a peace of its own which is not to be lightly esteemed,
though, indeed, it shall not in the end enjoy it, because it makes no
good use of it before the end. But it is our interest that it enjoy
this peace meanwhile in this life; for as long as the two cities are
commingled, we also enjoy the peace of Babylon. For from Babylon the
people of God is so freed that it meanwhile sojourns in its company.
And therefore the apostle also admonished the Church to pray for kings
and those in authority, assigning as the reason, "that we may live a
quiet and tranquil life in all godliness and love." [1304]And the
prophet Jeremiah, when predicting the captivity that was to befall the
ancient people of God, and giving them the divine command to go
obediently to Babylonia, and thus serve their God, counselled them
also to pray for Babylonia, saying, "In the peace thereof shall ye
have peace," [1305] --the temporal peace which the good and the wicked
together enjoy.
Footnotes
[1303] Ps. cxliv. 15.
[1304] 1 Tim. ii. 2; var. reading, "purity."
[1305] Jer. xxix. 7.
Chapter 27.--That the Peace of Those Who Serve God Cannot in This
Mortal Life Be Apprehended in Its Perfection.
But the peace which is peculiar to ourselves we enjoy now with God by
faith, and shall hereafter enjoy eternally with Him by sight. But the
peace which we enjoy in this life, whether common to all or peculiar
to ourselves, is rather the solace of our misery than the positive
enjoyment of felicity. Our very righteousness, too, though true in so
far as it has respect to the true good, is yet in this life of such a
kind that it consists rather in the remission of sins than in the
perfecting of virtues. Witness the prayer of the whole city of God in
its pilgrim state, for it cries to God by the mouth of all its
members, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." [1306]
And this prayer is efficacious not for those whose faith is "without
works and dead," [1307] but for those whose faith "worketh by love."
[1308]For as reason, though subjected to God, is yet "pressed down
by the corruptible body," [1309] so long as it is in this mortal
condition, it has not perfect authority over vice, and therefore this
prayer is needed by the righteous. For though it exercises authority,
the vices do not submit without a struggle. For however well one
maintains the conflict, and however thoroughly he has subdued these
enemies, there steals in some evil thing, which, if it does not find
ready expression in act, slips out by the lips, or insinuates itself
into the thought; and therefore his peace is not full so long as he is
at war with his vices. For it is a doubtful conflict he wages with
those that resist, and his victory over those that are defeated is not
secure, but full of anxiety and effort. Amidst these temptations,
therefore, of all which it has been summarily said in the divine
oracles, "Is not human life upon earth a temptation?" [1310] who but a
proud man can presume that he so lives that he has no need to say to
God, "Forgive us our debts?" And such a man is not great, but swollen
and puffed up with vanity, and is justly resisted by Him who
abundantly gives grace to the humble. Whence it is said, "God
resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." [1311]In
this, then, consists the righteousness of a man, that he submit
himself to God, his body to his soul, and his vices, even when they
rebel, to his reason, which either defeats or at least resists them;
and also that he beg from God grace to do his duty, [1312] and the
pardon of his sins, and that he render to God thanks for all the
blessings he receives. But, in that final peace to which all our
righteousness has reference, and for the sake of which it is
maintained, as our nature shall enjoy a sound immortality and
incorruption, and shall have no more vices, and as we shall experience
no resistance either from ourselves or from others, it will not be
necessary that reason should rule vices which no longer exist, but God
shall rule the man, and the soul shall rule the body, with a sweetness
and facility suitable to the felicity of a life which is done with
bondage. And this condition shall there be eternal, and we shall be
assured of its eternity; and thus the peace of this blessedness and
the blessedness of this peace shall be the supreme good.
Footnotes
[1306] Matt. vi. 12.
[1307] Jas. ii. 17.
[1308] Gal. v. 6.
[1309] Wisdom ix. 15.
[1310] Job vii. 1.
[1311] Jas. iv. 6; 1 Pet. v. 5.
[1312] Gratia meritorum.
Chapter 28.--The End of the Wicked.
But, on the other hand, they who do not belong to this city of God
shall inherit eternal misery, which is also called the second death,
because the soul shall then be separated from God its life, and
therefore cannot be said to live, and the body shall be subjected to
eternal pains. And consequently this second death shall be the more
severe, because no death shall terminate it. But war being contrary
to peace, as misery to happiness, and life to death, it is not without
reason asked what kind of war can be found in the end of the wicked
answering to the peace which is declared to be the end of the
righteous? The person who puts this question has only to observe what
it is in war that is hurtful and destructive, and he shall see that it
is nothing else than the mutual opposition and conflict of things.
And can he conceive a more grievous and bitter war than that in which
the will is so opposed to passion, and passion to the will, that their
hostility can never be terminated by the victory of either, and in
which the violence of pain so conflicts with the nature of the body,
that neither yields to the other? For in this life, when this
conflict has arisen, either pain conquers and death expels the feeling
of it, or nature conquers and health expels the pain. But in the
world to come the pain continues that it may torment, and the nature
endures that it may be sensible of it; and neither ceases to exist,
lest punishment also should cease. Now, as it is through the last
judgment that men pass to these ends, the good to the supreme good,
the evil to the supreme evil, I will treat of this judgment in the
following book.
.
Book XX.
Argument--Concerning the last judgment, and the declarations regarding
it in the old and new testaments.
Chapter 1.--That Although God is Always Judging, It is Nevertheless
Reasonable to Confine Our Attention in This Book to His Last Judgment.
Intending to speak, in dependence on God's grace, of the day of His
final judgment, and to affirm it against the ungodly and incredulous,
we must first of all lay, as it were, in the foundation of the edifice
the divine declarations. Those persons who do not believe such
declarations do their best to oppose to them false and illusive
sophisms of their own, either contending that what is adduced from
Scripture has another meaning, or altogether denying that it is an
utterance of God's. For I suppose no man who understands what is
written, and believes it to be communicated by the supreme and true
God through holy men, refuses to yield and consent to these
declarations, whether he orally confesses his consent, or is from some
evil influence ashamed or afraid to do so; or even, with an
opinionativeness closely resembling madness, makes strenuous efforts
to defend what he knows and believes to be false against what he knows
and believes to be true.
That, therefore, which the whole Church of the true God holds and
professes as its creed, that Christ shall come from heaven to judge
quick and dead, this we call the last day, or last time, of the divine
judgment. For we do not know how many days this judgment may occupy;
but no one who reads the Scriptures, however negligently, need be told
that in them "day" is customarily used for "time." And when we speak
of the day of God's judgment, we add the word last or final for this
reason, because even now God judges, and has judged from the beginning
of human history, banishing from paradise, and excluding from the tree
of life, those first men who perpetrated so great a sin. Yea, He was
certainly exercising judgment also when He did not spare the angels
who sinned, whose prince, overcome by envy, seduced men after being
himself seduced. Neither is it without God's profound and just
judgment that the life of demons and men, the one in the air, the
other on earth, is filled with misery, calamities, and mistakes. And
even though no one had sinned, it could only have been by the good and
right judgment of God that the whole rational creation could have been
maintained in eternal blessedness by a persevering adherence to its
Lord. He judges, too, not only in the mass, condemning the race of
devils and the race of men to be miserable on account of the original
sin of these races, but He also judges the voluntary and personal acts
of individuals. For even the devils pray that they may not be
tormented, [1313] which proves that without injustice they might
either be spared or tormented according to their deserts. And men are
punished by God for their sins often visibly, always secretly, either
in this life or after death, although no man acts rightly save by the
assistance of divine aid; and no man or devil acts unrighteously save
by the permission of the divine and most just judgment. For, as the
apostle says, "There is no unrighteousness with God;" [1314] and as he
elsewhere says, "His judgments are inscrutable, and His ways past
finding out." [1315]In this book, then, I shall speak, as God
permits, not of those first judgments, nor of these intervening
judgments of God, but of the last judgment, when Christ is to come
from heaven to judge the quick and the dead. For that day is properly
called the day of judgment, because in it there shall be no room left
for the ignorant questioning why this wicked person is happy and that
righteous man unhappy. In that day true and full happiness shall be
the lot of none but the good, while deserved and supreme misery shall
be the portion of the wicked, and of them only.
Footnotes
[1313] Matt. viii. 29.
[1314] Rom. ix. 14.
[1315] Rom. xi. 33.
Chapter 2.--That in the Mingled Web of Human Affairs God's Judgment is
Present, Though It Cannot Be Discerned.
In this present time we learn to bear with equanimity the ills to
which even good men are subject, and to hold cheap the blessings which
even the wicked enjoy. And consequently, even in those conditions of
life in which the justice of God is not apparent, His teaching is
salutary. For we do not know by what judgment of God this good man is
poor and that bad man rich; why he who, in our opinion, ought to
suffer acutely for his abandoned life enjoys himself, while sorrow
pursues him whose praiseworthy life leads us to suppose he should be
happy; why the innocent man is dismissed from the bar not only
unavenged, but even condemned, being either wronged by the iniquity of
the judge, or overwhelmed by false evidence, while his guilty
adversary, on the other hand, is not only discharged with impunity,
but even has his claims admitted; why the ungodly enjoys good health,
while the godly pines in sickness; why ruffians are of the soundest
constitution, while they who could not hurt any one even with a word
are from infancy afflicted with complicated disorders; why he who is
useful to society is cut off by premature death, while those who, as
it might seem, ought never to have been so much as born have lives of
unusual length; why he who is full of crimes is crowned with honors,
while the blameless man is buried in the darkness of neglect. But who
can collect or enumerate all the contrasts of this kind? But if this
anomalous state of things were uniform in this life, in which, as the
sacred Psalmist says, "Man is like to vanity, his days as a shadow
that passeth away," [1316] --so uniform that none but wicked men won
the transitory prosperity of earth, while only the good suffered its
ills,--this could be referred to the just and even benign judgment of
God. We might suppose that they who were not destined to obtain those
everlasting benefits which constitute human blessedness were either
deluded by transitory blessings as the just reward of their
wickedness, or were, in God's mercy, consoled by them, and that they
who were not destined to suffer eternal torments were afflicted with
temporal chastisement for their sins, or were stimulated to greater
attainment in virtue. But now, as it is, since we not only see good
men involved in the ills of life, and bad men enjoying the good of it,
which seems unjust, but also that evil often overtakes evil men, and
good surprises the good, the rather on this account are God's
judgments unsearchable, and His ways past finding out. Although,
therefore, we do not know by what judgment these things are done or
permitted to be done by God, with whom is the highest virtue, the
highest wisdom, the highest justice, no infirmity, no rashness, no
unrighteousness, yet it is salutary for us to learn to hold cheap such
things, be they good or evil, as attach indifferently to good men and
bad, and to covet those good things which belong only to good men, and
flee those evils which belong only to evil men. But when we shall
have come to that judgment, the date of which is called peculiarly the
day of judgment, and sometimes the day of the Lord, we shall then
recognize the justice of all God's judgments, not only of such as
shall then be pronounced, but, of all which take effect from the
beginning, or may take effect before that time. And in that day we
shall also recognize with what justice so many, or almost all, the
just judgments of God in the present life defy the scrutiny of human
sense or insight, though in this matter it is not concealed from pious
minds that what is concealed is just.
Footnotes
[1316] Ps. cxliv. 4.
Chapter 3.--What Solomon, in the Book of Ecclesiastes, Says Regarding
the Things Which Happen Alike to Good and Wicked Men.
Solomon, the wisest king of Israel, who reigned in Jerusalem, thus
commences the book called Ecclesiastes, which the Jews number among
their canonical Scriptures: "Vanity of vanities, said Ecclesiastes,
vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his
labor which he hath taken under the sun?" [1317]And after