---
type: article
status: Published
slug: "cicero-natura-deorum"
title: "On the Nature of the Gods"
author: "Marcus Tullius Cicero"
tradition: "roman"
language: "la"
genre: "philosophical dialogue"
period: "45 BCE"
source_url: "https://raw.githubusercontent.com/PerseusDL/canonical-latinLit/8b536bdf3ed1f43494055efe112433b4a58eab67/data/phi0474/phi050/phi0474.phi050.perseus-lat2.xml"
certainty: observed
source: "https://raw.githubusercontent.com/PerseusDL/canonical-latinLit/8b536bdf3ed1f43494055efe112433b4a58eab67/data/phi0474/phi050/phi0474.phi050.perseus-lat2.xml"
---
# On the Nature of the Gods

## Original

### Book 1

[1.1]
Cum multae res in philosophia nequaquam satis adhuc explicatae sint, tum perdifficilis, Brute, quod tu minime ignoras, et perobscura quaestio est de natura deorum, quae et ad cognitionem animi pulcherrima est et ad moderandam religionem necessaria. De qua <cum> tam variae sint doctissimorum hominum tamque discrepantes sententiae, magno argumento esse debeat <ea> causa, principium philosophiae ad h […] scientiam, prudenterque Academici a rebus incertis adsensionem cohibuisse. quid est enim temeritate turpius aut quid tam temerarium tamque indignum sapientis gravitate atque constantia quam aut falsum sentire aut quod non satis explorate perceptum sit et cognitum sine ulla dubitatione defendere?

[1.2]
Velut in hac quaestione plerique, quod maxime veri simile est et quo omnes †sese duce natura venimus, deos esse dixerunt, dubitare se Protagoras, nullos esse omnino Diagoras Melius et Theodorus Cyrenaicus putaverunt. Qui vero deos esse dixerunt tanta sunt in varietate et dissensione, ut eorum infinitum sit enumerare sententias. nam et de figuris deorum et de locis atque sedibus et de actione vitae multa dicuntur, deque is summa philosophorum dissensione certatur; quod vero maxime rem causamque continet, utrum nihil agant nihil moliantur omni curatione et administratione rerum vacent, an contra ab iis et a principio omnia facta et constituta sint et ad infinitum tempus regantur atque moveantur, in primis [quae] magna dissensio est, eaque nisi diiudicatur in summo errore necesse est homines atque in maximarum rerum ignoratione versari.

[1.3]
Sunt enim philosophi et fuerunt qui omnino nullam habere censerent rerum humanarum procurationem deos. quorum si vera sententia est, quae potest esse pietas quae sanctitas quae religio? haec enim omnia pure atque caste tribuenda deorum numini ita sunt, si animadvertuntur ab is et si est aliquid a deis inmortalibus hominum generi tributum; sin autem dei neque possunt nos iuvare nec volunt nec omnino curant nec quid agamus animadvertunt nec est quod ab is ad hominum vitam permanare possit, quid est quod ullos deis inmortalibus cultus honores preces adhibeamus? in specie autem fictae simulationis sicut reliquae virtutes item pietas inesse non potest; cum qua simul sanctitatem et religionem tolli necesse est, quibus sublatis perturbatio vitae sequitur et magna confusio;

[1.4]
atque haut scio an pietate adversus deos sublata fides etiam et societas generis humani et una excellentissuma virtus iustitia tollatur. Sunt autem alii philosophi, et hi quidem magni atque nobiles, qui deorum mente atque ratione omnem mundum administrari et regi censeant, neque vero id solum, sed etiam ab isdem hominum vitae consuli et provideri; nam et fruges et reliqua quae terra pariat et tempestates ac temporum varietates caelique mutationes, quibus omnia quae terra gignat maturata pubescant, a dis inmortalibus tribui generi humano putant, multaque quae dicentur in his libris colligunt, quae talia sunt ut ea ipsa dei inmortales ad usum hominum fabricati paene videantur. Contra quos Carneades ita multa disseruit, ut excitaret homines non socordes ad veri investigandi cupiditatem.

[1.5]
res enim nulla est de qua tantopere non solum indocti sed etiam docti dissentiant; quorum opiniones cum tam variae sint tamque inter se dissidentes, alterum fieri profecto potest ut earum nulla, alterum certe non potest ut plus una vera sit.

Qua quidem in causa et benivolos obiurgatores placare et invidos vituperatores confutare possumus, ut alteros reprehendisse paeniteat, alteri didicisse se gaudeant; nam qui admonent amice docendi sunt, qui inimice insectantur repellendi.

[1.6]
Multum autem fluxisse video de libris nostris, quos compluris brevi tempore edidimus, variumque sermonem partim admirantium unde hoc philosophandi nobis subito studium extitisset, partim quid quaque de re certi haberemus scire cupientium; multis etiam sensi mirabile videri eam nobis potissimum probatam esse philosophiam, quae lucem eriperet et quasi noctem quandam rebus offunderet, desertaeque disciplinae et iam pridem relictae patrocinium necopinatum a nobis esse susceptum. Nos autem nec subito coepimus philosophari nec mediocrem a primo tempore aetatis in eo studio operam curamque consumpsimus, et cum minime videbamur tum maxime philosophabamur; quod et orationes declarant refertae philosophorum sententiis et doctissimorum hominum familiaritates, quibus semper domus nostra floruit, et principes illi Diodotus Philo Antiochus Posidonius, a quibus instituti sumus.

[1.7]
et si omnia philosophiae praecepta referuntur ad vitam, arbitramur nos et publicis et privatis in rebus ea praestitisse quae ratio et doctrina praescripserit. Sin autem quis requirit quae causa nos inpulerit ut haec tam sero litteris mandaremus, nihil est quod expedire tam facile possimus. Nam cum otio langueremus et is esset rei publicae status ut eam unius consilio atque cura gubernari necesse esset, primum ipsius rei publicae causa philosophiam nostris hominibus explicandam putavi, magni existimans interesse ad decus et ad laudem civitatis res tam gravis tamque praeclaras Latinis etiam litteris contineri.

[1.8]
eoque me minus instituti mei paenitet, quod facile sentio quam multorum non modo discendi sed etiam scribendi studia commoverim. complures enim Graecis institutionibus eruditi ea quae didicerant cum civibus suis communicare non poterant, quod illa quae a Graecis accepissent Latine dici posse diffiderent; quo in genere tantum profecisse videmur, ut a Graecis ne verborum quidem copia vinceremur.

[1.9]
Hortata etiam est ut me ad haec conferrem animi aegritudo fortunae magna et gravi commota iniuria; cuius si maiorem aliquam levationem reperire potuissem, non ad hanc potissimum confugissem. ea vero ipsa nulla ratione melius frui potui quam si me non modo ad legendos libros sed etiam ad totam philosophiam pertractandam dedissem. omnes autem eius partes atque omnia membra tum facillume noscuntur, cum totae quaestiones scribendo explicantur; est enim admirabilis quaedam continuatio seriesque rerum, ut alia ex alia nexa et omnes inter se aptae conligataeque videantur.

[1.10]
Qui autem requirunt quid quaque de re ipsi sentiamus, curiosius id faciunt quam necesse est; non enim tam auctoritatis in disputando quam rationis momenta quaerenda sunt. quin etiam obest plerumque iis qui discere volunt auctoritas eorum qui se docere profitentur; desinunt enim suum iudicium adhibere, id habent ratum quod ab eo quem probant iudicatum vident. nec vero probare soleo id quod de Pythagoreis accepimus, quos ferunt, si quid adfirmarent in disputando, cum ex iis quaereretur quare ita esset, respondere solitos “ipse dixit”; ipse autem erat Pythagoras: tantum opinio praeiudicata poterat, ut etiam sine ratione valeret auctoritas.

[1.11]
Qui autem admirantur nos hanc potissimum disciplinam secutos, his quattuor Academicis libris satis responsum videtur. Nec vero desertarum relictarumque rerum patrocinium suscepimus; non enim hominum interitu sententiae quoque occidunt, sed lucem auctoris fortasse desiderant. ut haec in philosophia ratio contra omnia disserendi nullamque rem aperte iudicandi profecta a Socrate repetita ab Arcesila confirmata a Carneade usque ad nostram viguit aetatem; quam nunc prope modum orbam esse in ipsa Graecia intellego. quod non Academiae vitio sed tarditate hominum arbitror contigisse. nam si singulas disciplinas percipere magnum est, quanto maius omnis; quod facere is necesse est quibus propositum est veri reperiendi causa et contra omnes philosophos et pro omnibus dicere.

[1.12]
cuius rei tantae tamque difficilis facultatem consecutum esse me non profiteor, secutum esse prae me fero. Nec tamen fieri potest ut qui hac ratione philosophentur hi nihil habeant quod sequantur. dictum est omnino de hac re alio loco diligentius, sed quia nimis indociles quidam tardique sunt admonendi videntur saepius. non enim sumus i quibus nihil verum esse videatur, sed i qui omnibus veris falsa quaedam adiuncta esse dicamus tanta similitudine ut in is nulla insit certa iudicandi et adsentiendi nota. ex quo exsistit et illud, multa esse probabilia, quae quamquam non perciperentur, tamen, quia visum quendam haberent insignem et inlustrem, his sapientis vita regeretur.

[1.13]
Sed iam, ut omni me invidia liberem, ponam in medio sententias philosophorum de natura deorum. quo quidem loco convocandi omnes videntur, qui quae sit earum vera iudicent; tum demum mihi procax Academia videbitur, si aut consenserint omnes aut erit inventus aliquis qui quid verum sit invenerit. itaque mihi libet exclamare ut in Synephebis:
pro deum, popularium omnium, <omnium> adulescentium

clamo postulo obsecro oro ploro atque inploro fidem
non levissuma de re, ut queritur ille in civitate fieri facinora capitalia: “ab amico amante argentum accipere meretrix non vult”,

[1.14]
sed ut adsint cognoscant animadvertant, quid de religione pietate sanctitate caerimoniis fide iure iurando, quid de templis delubris sacrificiisque sollemnibus, quid de ipsis auspiciis, quibus nos praesumus, existimandum sit (haec enim omnia ad hanc de dis inmortalibus quaestionem referenda sunt): profecto eos ipsos, qui se aliquid certi habere arbitrantur, addubitare coget doctissimorum hominum de maxuma re tanta dissensio.

[1.15]
Quod cum saepe alias tum maxime animadverti cum apud C. Cottam familiarem meum accurate sane et diligenter de dis inmortalibus disputatumst. nam cum feriis Latinis ad eum ipsius rogatu arcessituque venissem, offendi eum sedentem in exedra et cum C. Velleio senatore disputantem, ad quem tum Epicurei primas ex nostris hominibus deferebant. aderat etiam Q. Lucilius Balbus, qui tantos progressus habebat in Stoicis, ut cum excellentibus in eo genere Graecis compararetur.

Tum ut me Cotta vidit “Peroportune” inquit “venis; oritur enim mihi magna de re altercatio cum Velleio, cui pro tuo studio non est alienum te interesse.”

[1.16]
“Atqui mihi quoque videor” inquam “venisse, ut dicis, oportune. tres enim trium disciplinarum principes convenistis. M. enim Piso si adesset, nullius philosophiae, earum quidem quae in honore sunt, vacaret locus.”

Tum Cotta “Si” inquit “liber Antiochi nostri, qui ab eo nuper ad hunc Balbum missus est, vera loquitur, nihil est quod Pisonem familiarem tuum desideres; Antiocho enim Stoici cum Peripateticis re concinere videntur verbis discrepare; quo de libro Balbe velim scire quid sentias.”

“Egone” inquit ille, “miror Antiochum hominem in primis acutum non vidisse interesse plurimum inter Stoicos, qui honesta a commodis non nomine sed genere toto diiungerent, et Peripateticos, qui honesta commiscerent cum commodis, ut ea inter se magnitudine et quasi gradibus non genere differrent. haec enim est non verborum parva sed rerum permagna dissensio. verum hoc alias; nunc quod coepimus, si videtur”.

[1.17]
“Mihi vero” inquit Cotta “videtur. sed ut hic qui intervenit” me intuens “ne ignoret quae res agatur, de natura agebamus deorum, quae cum mihi videretur perobscura, ut semper videri solet, Epicuri ex Velleio sciscitabar sententiam. quam ob rem” inquit “Vellei, nisi molestum est, repete quae coeperas.”

“Repetam vero, quamquam non mihi sed tibi hic venit adiutor; ambo enim” inquit adridens “ab eodem Philone nihil scire didicistis.”

Tum ego: “Quid didicerimus Cotta viderit, tu autem nolo existimes me adiutorem huic venisse sed auditorem, et quidem aecum, libero iudicio, nulla eius modi adstrictum necessitate, ut mihi velim nolim sit certa quaedam tuenda sententia.”

[1.18]
Tum Velleius fidenter sane, ut solent isti, nihil tam verens quam ne dubitare aliqua de re videretur, tamquam modo ex deorum concilio et ex Epicuri intermundiis descendisset, “Audite” inquit “non futtilis commenticiasque sententias, non opificem aedificatoremque mundi Platonis de Timaeo deum, nec anum fatidicam Stoicorum Pronoeam, quam Latine licet Providentiam dicere, neque vero mundum ipsum animo et sensibus praeditum rutundum ardentem volubilem deum, portenta et miracula non disserentium philosophorum sed somniantium.”

[1.19]
“Quibus enim oculis animi intueri potuit vester Plato fabricam illam tanti operis, qua construi a deo atque aedificari mundum facit; quae molitio quae ferramenta qui vectes quae machinae qui ministri tanti muneris fuerunt; quem ad modum autem oboedire et parere voluntati architecti aer ignis aqua terra potuerunt; unde vero ortae illae quinque formae, ex quibus reliqua formantur, apte cadentes ad animum afficiendum pariendosque sensus? longum est ad omnia, quae talia sunt ut optata magis quam inventa videantur;”

[1.20]
“sed illa palmaris, quod, qui non modo natum mundum introduxerit sed etiam manu paene factum, is eum dixerit fore sempiternum. hunc censes primis ut dicitur labris gustasse physiologiam id est naturae rationem, qui quicquam quod ortum sit putet aeternum esse posse? quae est enim coagmentatio non dissolubilis, aut quid est cuius principium aliquod sit nihil sit extremum? Pronoea vero si vestra est Lucili eadem, requiro quae paulo ante, ministros machinas omnem totius operis dissignationem atque apparatum; sin alia est, cur mortalem fecerit mundum, non, quem ad modum Platonicus deus, sempiternum.”

[1.21]
“Ab utroque autem sciscitor cur mundi aedificatores repente exstiterint, innumerabilia saecla dormierint; non enim si mundus nullus erat saecla non erant (saecla nunc dico non ea quae dierum noctiumque numero annuis cursibus conficiuntur; nam fateor ea sine mundi conversione effici non potuisse; sed fuit quaedam ab infinito tempore aeternitas, quam nulla circumscriptio temporum metiebatur, spatio tamen qualis ea fuerit intellegi potest, quod ne in cogitationem quidem cadit ut fuerit”

[1.22]
“tempus aliquod nullum cum tempus esset)—isto igitur tam inmenso spatio quaero Balbe cur Pronoea vestra cessaverit. laboremne fugiebat? at iste nec attingit deum nec erat ullus, cum omnes naturae numini divino, caelum ignes terrae maria, parerent. Quid autem erat quod concupisceret deus mundum signis et luminibus tamquam aedilis ornare? si ut deus ipse melius habitaret, antea videlicet tempore infinito in tenebris tamquam in gurgustio habitaverat. post autem: varietatene eum delectari putamus, qua caelum et terras exornatas videmus? quae ista potest esse oblectatio deo? quae si esset, non ea tam diu carere potuisset.”

[1.23]
“an haec, ut fere dicitis, hominum causa a deo constituta sunt? sapientiumne? propter paucos igitur tanta est rerum facta molitio. an stultorum? at primum causa non fuit cur de inprobis bene mereretur; deinde quid est adsecutus, cum omnes stulti sint sine dubio miserrimi, maxime quod stulti sunt (miserius enim stultitia quid possumus dicere), deinde quod ita multa sunt incommoda in vita, ut ea sapientes commodorum conpensatione leniant, stulti nec vitare venientia possint nec ferre praesentia. Qui vero mundum ipsum animantem sapientemque esse dixerunt, nullo modo viderunt animi natura intellegentis in quam figuram cadere posset. de quo dicam equidem paulo post, nunc autem hactenus:”

[1.24]
“admirabor eorum tarditatem qui animantem inmortalem et eundem beatum rutundum esse velint, quod ea forma neget ullam esse pulchriorem Plato: at mihi vel cylindri vel quadrati vel coni vel pyramidis videtur esse formosior. Quae vero vita tribuitur isti rutundo deo? nempe ut ea celeritate contorqueatur cui par nulla ne cogitari quidem possit; in qua non video ubinam mens constans et vita beata possit insistere. Quodque in nostro corpore si minima ex parte significetur molestum sit, cur hoc idem non habeatur molestum in deo? terra enim profecto, quoniam mundi pars est, pars est etiam dei; atqui terrae maxumas regiones inhabitabilis atque incultas videmus, quod pars earum adpulsu solis exarserit, pars obriguerit nive pruinaque longinquo solis abscessu; quae, si mundus est deus, quoniam mundi partes sunt, dei membra partim ardentia partim refrigerata ducenda sunt.”

[1.25]
“Atque haec quidem vestra Lucili; qualia vero […] est, ab ultimo repetam superiorum. Thales enim Milesius, qui primus de talibus rebus quaesivit, aquam dixit esse initium rerum, deum autem eam mentem quae ex aqua cuncta fingeret: si dei possunt esse sine sensu; et mentem cur aquae adiunxit, si ipsa mens constare potest vacans corpore? Anaximandri autem opinio est nativos esse deos longis intervallis orientis occidentisque, eosque innumerabilis esse mundos. sed nos deum nisi sempiternum intellegere qui possumus?”

[1.26]
“Post Anaximenes aera deum statuit, eumque gigni esseque inmensum et infinitum et semper in motu: quasi aut aer sine ulla forma deus esse possit, cum praesertim deum non modo aliqua sed pulcherrima specie deceat esse, aut non omne quod ortum sit mortalitas consequatur. Inde Anaxagoras, qui accepit ab Anaximene disciplinam, primus omnium rerum discriptionem et modum mentis infinitae vi ac ratione dissignari et confici voluit. in quo non vidit neque motum sensu iunctum et [in] continentem infinito ullum esse posse, neque sensum omnino quo non ipsa natura pulsa sentiret. deinde si mentem istam quasi animal aliquod voluit esse, erit aliquid interius ex quo illud animal nominetur; quid autem interius mente: cingatur igitur corpore externo;”

[1.27]
“quod quoniam non placet, aperta simplexque mens nulla re adiuncta, quae sentire possit, fugere intellegentiae nostrae vim et notionem videtur. Crotoniates autem Alcmaeo, qui soli et lunae reliquisque sideribus animoque praeterea divinitatem dedit, non sensit sese mortalibus rebus inmortalitatem dare. Nam Pythagoras, qui censuit animum esse per naturam rerum omnem intentum et commeantem, ex quo nostri animi carperentur, non vidit distractione humanorum animorum discerpi et lacerari deum, et cum miseri animi essent, quod plerisque contingeret, tum dei partem esse miseram, quod fieri non potest.”

[1.28]
“cur autem quicquam ignoraret animus hominis, si esset deus? quo modo porro deus iste, si nihil esset nisi animus, aut infixus aut infusus esset in mundo? Tum Xenophanes, qui mente adiuncta omne praeterea, quod esset infinitum, deum voluit esse, de ipsa mente item reprehendetur ut ceteri, de infinitate autem vehementius, in qua nihil neque sentiens neque coniunctum potest esse. Nam Parmenides quidem commenticium quiddam: coronae similem efficit (στεφάνην appellat) continentem ardorum lucis orbem, qui cingit caelum, quem appellat deum; in quo neque figuram divinam neque sensum quisquam suspicari potest. multaque eiusdem monstra, quippe qui bellum qui discordiam qui cupiditatem ceteraque generis eiusdem ad deum revocet, quae vel morbo vel somno vel oblivione vel vetustate delentur; eademque de sideribus, quae reprehensa in alio iam in hoc omittantur.”

[1.29]
“Empedocles autem multa alia peccans in deorum opinione turpissume labitur. quattuor enim naturas, ex quibus omnia constare censet, divinas esse vult; quas et nasci et extingui perspicuum est et sensu omni carere. Nec vero Protagoras, qui sese negat omnino de deis habere quod liqueat, sint non sint qualesve sint, quicquam videtur de natura deorum suspicari. Quid Democritus, qui tum imagines eorumque circumitus in deorum numero refert, tum illam naturam quae imagines fundat ac mittat, tum sententiam intellegentiamque nostram, nonne in maximo errore versatur? cum idem omnino, quia nihil semper suo statu maneat, neget esse quicquam sempiternum, nonne deum omnino ita tollit, ut nullam opinionem eius reliquam faciat? Quid aer, quo Diogenes Apolloniates utitur deo, quem sensum habere potest aut quam formam dei?”

[1.30]
“Iam de Platonis inconstantia longum est dicere, qui in Timaeo patrem huius mundi nominari neget posse, in Legum autem libris quid sit omnino deus anquiri oportere non censeat. quod vero sine corpore ullo deum vult esse (ut Graeci dicunt ἀσώματον), id quale esse possit intellegi non potest: careat enim sensu necesse est, careat etiam prudentia, careat voluptate; quae omnia una cum deorum notione conprehendimus. idem et in Timaeo dicit et in Legibus et mundum deum esse et caelum et astra et terram et animos et eos quos maiorum institutis accepimus. quae et per se sunt falsa perspicue et inter se vehementer repugnantia.”

[1.31]
“Atque etiam Xenophon paucioribus verbis eadem fere peccat; facit enim in his quae a Socrate dicta rettulit Socratem disputantem formam dei quaeri non oportere, eundemque et solem et animum deum dicere, et modo unum tum autem plures deos; quae sunt isdem in erratis fere quibus ea quae de Platone dicimus.”

[1.32]
“Atque etiam Antisthenes in eo libro qui physicus inscribitur popularis deos multos naturalem unum esse dicens tollit vim et naturam deorum. Nec multo secus Speusippus Platonem avunculum subsequens et vim quandam dicens, qua omnia regantur, eamque animalem, evellere ex animis conatur cognitionem deorum.”

[1.33]
“Aristotelesque in tertio de philosophia libro multa turbat a magistro suo Platone dissentiens; modo enim menti tribuit omnem divinitatem, modo mundum ipsum deum dicit esse, modo alium quendam praeficit mundo eique eas partis tribuit ut replicatione quadam mundi motum regat atque tueatur, tum caeli ardorem deum dicit esse non intellegens caelum mundi esse partem, quem alio loco ipse designarit deum. quo modo autem caeli divinus ille sensus in celeritate tanta conservari potest? ubi deinde illi tot dii, si numeramus etiam caelum deum? cum autem sine corpore idem vult esse deum, omni illum sensu privat, etiam prudentia. quo porro modo mundus moveri carens corpore aut quo modo semper se movens esse quietus et beatus potest?”

[1.34]
“Nec vero eius condiscipulus Xenocrates in hoc genere prudentior est, cuius in libris qui sunt de natura deorum nulla species divina describitur; deos enim octo esse dicit, quinque eos qui in stellis vagis nominantur, unum qui ex omnibus sideribus quae infixa caelo sint ex dispersis quasi membris simplex sit putandus deus, septimum solem adiungit octavamque lunam; qui quo sensu beati esse possint intellegi non potest. Ex eadem Platonis schola Ponticus Heraclides puerilibus fabulis refersit libros, et tamen modo mundum tum mentem divinam esse putat, errantibus etiam stellis divinitatem tribuit sensuque deum privat et eius formam mutabilem esse vult, eodemque in libro rursus terram et caelum refert in deos.”

[1.35]
“Nec vero Theophrasti inconstantia ferenda est; modo enim menti divinum tribuit principatum modo caelo, tum autem signis sideribusque caelestibus. Nec audiendus eius auditor Strato is qui physicus appellatur, qui omnem vim divinam in natura sitam esse censet, quae causas gignendi augendi minuendi habeat sed careat omni et sensu et figura.”

[1.36]
“Zeno autem, ut iam ad vestros Balbe veniam, naturalem legem divinam esse censet, eamque vim obtinere recta imperantem prohibentemque contraria. quam legem quo modo efficiat animantem intellegere non possumus; deum autem animantem certe volumus esse. atque hic idem alio loco aethera deum dicit: si intellegi potest nihil sentiens deus, qui numquam nobis occurrit neque in precibus neque in optatis neque in votis. aliis autem libris rationem quandam per omnium naturam rerum pertinentem vi divina esse adfectam putat. idem astris hoc idem tribuit, tum annis mensibus annorumque mutationibus. cum vero Hesiodi Theogoniam id est originem deorum interpretatur, tollit omnino usitatas perceptasque cognitiones deorum; neque enim Iovem neque Iunonem neque Vestam neque quemquam qui ita appelletur in deorum habet numero, sed rebus inanimis atque mutis per quandam significationem haec docet tributa nomina.”

[1.37]
“Cuius discipuli Aristonis non minus magno in errore sententiast, qui neque formam dei intellegi posse censeat neque in dis sensum esse dicat dubitetque omnino deus animans necne sit. Cleanthes autem, qui Zenonem audivit una cum eo quem proxime nominavi, tum ipsum mundum deum dicit esse, tum totius naturae menti atque animo tribuit hoc nomen, tum ultimum et altissimum atque undique circumfusum et extremum omnia cingentem atque conplexum ardorem, qui aether nominetur, certissimum deum iudicat; idemque quasi delirans in his libris quos scripsit contra voluptatem tum fingit formam quandam et speciem deorum, tum divinitatem omnem tribuit astris, tum nihil ratione censet esse divinius. ita fit ut deus ille, quem mente noscimus atque in animi notione tamquam in vestigio volumus reponere, nusquam prorsus appareat. At Persaeus eiusdem Zenonis auditor eos esse habitos deos a quibus aliqua magna utilitas ad vitae cultum esset inventa, ipsasque res utiles et salutares deorum esse vocabulis nuncupatas, ut ne hoc quidem diceret, illa inventa esse deorum, sed ipsa divina;”

[1.38]
“quo quid absurdius quam aut res sordidas atque deformis deorum honore adficere aut homines iam morte deletos reponere in deos, quorum omnis cultus esset futurus in luctu.”

[1.39]
“Iam vero Chrysippus, qui Stoicorum somniorum vaferrumus habetur interpres, magnam turbam congregat ignotorum deorum, atque ita ignotorum ut eos ne coniectura quidem informare possimus, cum mens nostra quidvis videatur cogitatione posse depingere. ait enim vim divinam in ratione esse positam et in universae naturae animo atque mente, ipsumque mundum deum dicit esse et eius animi fusionem universam, tum eius ipsius principatum qui in mente et ratione versetur, communemque rerum naturam universam atque omnia continentem, tum fatalem †umbram et necessitatem rerum futurarum, ignem praeterea et eum quem ante dixi aethera, tum ea quae natura fluerent atque manarent, ut et aquam et terram et aera, solem lunam sidera universitatemque rerum qua omnia continerentur, atque etiam homines eos qui inmortalitatem essent consecuti.”

[1.40]
“idemque disputat aethera esse eum quem homines Iovem appellarent, quique aer per maria manaret eum esse Neptunum, terramque eam esse quae Ceres diceretur, similique ratione persequitur vocabula reliquorum deorum. idemque etiam legis perpetuae et aeternae vim, quae quasi dux vitae et magistra officiorum sit, Iovem dicit esse, eandemque fatalem necessitatem appellat sempiternam rerum futurarum veritatem; quorum nihil tale est ut in eo vis divina inesse videatur.”

[1.41]
“et haec quidem in primo libro de natura deorum; in secundo autem volt Orphei Musaei Hesiodi Homerique fabellas accommodare ad ea quae ipse primo libro de deis inmortalibus dixerit, ut etiam veterrimi poetae, qui haec ne suspicati quidem sint, Stoici fuisse videantur. Quem Diogenes Babylonius consequens in eo libro qui inscribitur de Minerva partum Iovis ortumque virginis ad physiologiam traducens deiungit a fabula.”

[1.42]
“Exposui fere non philosophorum iudicia sed delirantium somnia. Nec enim multo absurdiora sunt ea quae poetarum vocibus fusa ipsa suavitate nocuerunt, qui et ira inflammatos et libidine furentis induxerunt deos feceruntque ut eorum bella proelia pugnas vulnera videremus, odia praeterea discidia discordias, ortus interitus, querellas lamentationes, effusas in omni intemperantia libidines, adulteria vincula, cum humano genere concubitus mortalisque ex inmortali procreatos.”

[1.43]
“Cum poetarum autem errore coniungere licet portenta magorum Aegyptiorumque in eodem genere dementiam, tum etiam vulgi opiniones, quae in maxima inconstantia veritatis ignoratione versantur.”

“Ea qui consideret quam inconsulte ac temere dicantur, venerari Epicurum et in eorum ipsorum numero de quibus haec quaestio est habere debeat. Solus enim vidit primum esse deos, quod in omnium animis eorum notionem inpressisset ipsa natura. quae est enim gens aut quod genus hominum quod non habeat sine doctrina anticipationem quandam deorum, quam appellat πρόλημψιν Epicurus id est anteceptam animo rei quandam informationem, sine qua nec intellegi quicquam nec quaeri nec disputari potest. quoius rationis vim atque utilitatem ex illo caelesti Epicuri de regula et iudicio volumine accepimus.”

[1.44]
“quod igitur fundamentum huius quaestionis est, id praeclare iactum videtis. cum enim non instituto aliquo aut more aut lege sit opinio constituta maneatque ad unum omnium firma consensio, intellegi necesse est esse deos, quoniam insitas eorum vel potius innatas cognitiones habemus; de quo autem omnium natura consentit, id verum esse necesse est; esse igitur deos confitendum est. Quod quoniam fere constat inter omnis non philosophos solum sed etiam indoctos, fatemur constare illud etiam, hanc nos habere sive anticipationem, ut ante dixi, sive praenotionem deorum (sunt enim rebus novis nova ponenda nomina, ut Epicurus ipse πρόληψιν appellavit,”

[1.45]
“quam antea nemo eo verbo nominarat)—hanc igitur habemus, ut deos beatos et inmortales putemus. quae enim nobis natura informationem ipsorum deorum dedit, eadem insculpsit in mentibus ut eos aeternos et beatos haberemus. Quod si ita est, vere exposita illa sententia est ab Epicuro, quod beatum aeternumque sit id nec habere ipsum negotii quicquam nec exhibere alteri, itaque neque ira neque gratia teneri, quod quae talia essent inbecilla essent omnia.”

“Si nihil aliud quaereremus nisi ut deos pie coleremus et ut superstitione liberaremur, satis erat dictum; nam et praestans deorum natura hominum pietate coleretur, cum et aeterna esset et beatissima (habet enim venerationem iustam quicquid excellit), et metus omnis a vi atque ira deorum pulsus esset; intellegitur enim a beata inmortalique natura et iram et gratiam segregari; quibus remotis nullos a superis inpendere metus. sed ad hanc confirmandam opinionem anquirit animus et formam et vitam et actionem mentis atque agitationem in deo.”

[1.46]
“Ac de forma quidem partim natura nos admonet partim ratio docet. Nam a natura habemus omnes omnium gentium speciem nullam aliam nisi humanam deorum; quae enim forma alia occurrit umquam aut vigilanti cuiquam aut dormienti? Sed ne omnia revocentur ad primas notiones, ratio hoc idem ipsa declarat.”

[1.47]
“nam cum praestantissumam naturam, vel quia beata est vel quia sempiterna, convenire videatur eandem esse pulcherrimam, quae conpositio membrorum, quae conformatio liniamentorum, quae figura, quae species humana potest esse pulchrior? Vos quidem Lucili soletis (nam Cotta meus modo hoc modo illud), cum artificium effingitis fabricamque divinam, quam sint omnia in hominis figura non modo ad usum verum etiam ad venustatem apta describere;”

[1.48]
“quod si omnium animantium formam vincit hominis figura, deus autem animans est, ea figura profecto est quae pulcherrimast omnium. quoniamque deos beatissimos esse constat, beatus autem esse sine virtute nemo potest nec virtus sine ratione constare nec ratio usquam inesse nisi in hominis figura, hominis esse specie deos confitendum est.”

[1.49]
“Nec tamen ea species corpus est sed quasi corpus, nec habet sanguinem sed quasi sanguinem. Haec quamquam et inventa sunt acutius et dicta subtilius ab Epicuro quam ut quivis ea possit agnoscere, tamen fretus intellegentia vestra dissero brevius quam causa desiderat. Epicurus autem, qui res occultas et penitus abditas non modo videat animo sed etiam sic tractet ut manu, docet eam esse vim et naturam deorum, ut primum non sensu sed mente cernatur, nec soliditate quadam nec ad numerum, ut ea quae ille propter firmitatem στερέμνια appellat, sed imaginibus similitudine et transitione perceptis, cum infinita simillumarum imaginum species ex innumerabilibus individuis existat et ad deos adfluat, cum maximis voluptatibus in eas imagines mentem intentam infixamque nostram intellegentiam capere quae sit et beata natura et aeterna.”

[1.50]
“Summa vero vis infinitatis et magna ac diligenti contemplatione dignissima est. in qua intellegi necesse est eam esse naturam ut omnia omnibus paribus paria respondeant; hanc ἰσονομίαν appellat Epicurus id est aequabilem tributionem. ex hac igitur illud efficitur, si mortalium tanta multitudo sit, esse inmortalium non minorem, et si quae interimant innumerabilia sint, etiam ea quae conservent infinita esse debere.”

“Et quaerere a nobis Balbe soletis quae vita deorum sit quaeque ab is degatur aetas.”

[1.51]
“ea videlicet qua nihil beatius nihil omnibus bonis affluentius cogitari potest. nihil enim agit, nullis occupationibus est inplicatus, nulla opera molitur, sua sapientia et virtute gaudet, habet exploratum fore se semper cum in maximis tum in aeternis voluptatibus.”

[1.52]
“Hunc deum rite beatum dixerimus, vestrum vero laboriosissimum. sive enim ipse mundus deus est, quid potest esse minus quietum quam nullo puncto temporis intermisso versari circum axem caeli admirabili celeritate: nisi quietum autem nihil beatum est; sive in ipso mundo deus inest aliquis, qui regat qui gubernet qui cursus astrorum mutationes temporum rerum vicissitudines ordinesque conservet, terras et maria contemplans hominum commoda vitasque tueatur, ne ille est inplicatus molestis negotiis et operosis.”

[1.53]
“nos autem beatam vitam in animi securitate et in omnium vacatione munerum ponimus. docuit enim nos idem qui cetera, natura effectum esse mundum, nihil opus fuisse fabrica, tamque eam rem esse facilem, quam vos effici negetis sine divina posse sollertia, ut innumerabiles natura mundos effectura sit efficiat effecerit. quod quia quem ad modum natura efficere sine aliqua mente possit non videtis, ut tragici poetae cum explicare argumenti exitum non potestis confugitis ad deum.”

[1.54]
“cuius operam profecto non desideraretis, si inmensam et interminatam in omnis partis magnitudinem regionum videretis, in quam se iniciens animus et intendens ita late longeque peregrinatur, ut nullam tamen oram ultimi videat in qua possit insistere. in hac igitur inmensitate latitudinum longitudinum altitudinum infinita vis innumerabilium volitat atomorum, quae interiecto inani cohaerescunt tamen inter se et aliae alias adprehendentes continuantur; ex quo efficiuntur eae rerum formae et figurae, quas vos effici posse sine follibus et incudibus non putatis. itaque inposuistis in cervicibus nostris sempiternum dominum, quem dies et noctes timeremus. quis enim non timeat omnia providentem et cogitantem et animadvertentem et omnia ad se pertinere putantem curiosum et plenum negotii deum?”

[1.55]
“Hinc vobis extitit primum illa fatalis necessitas, quam εἱμαρμένην dicitis, ut quicquid accidat id ex aeterna veritate causarumque continuatione fluxisse dicatis. quanti autem haec philosophia aestimandast, cui tamquam aniculis, et his quidem indoctis, fato fieri videantur omnia. sequitur μαντικὴ vestra, quae Latine divinatio dicitur, qua tanta inbueremur superstitione si vos audire vellemus, ut haruspices augures harioli vates coniectores nobis essent colendi.”

[1.56]
“His terroribus ab Epicuro soluti et in libertatem vindicati nec metuimus eos quos intellegimus nec sibi fingere ullam molestiam nec alteri quaerere, et pie sancteque colimus naturam excellentem atque praestantem.”

“Sed elatus studio vereor ne longior fuerim. erat autem difficile rem tantam tamque praeclaram inchoatam relinquere; quamquam non tam dicendi ratio mihi habenda fuit quam audiendi.”

[1.57]
Tum Cotta comiter ut solebat “Atqui” inquit “Vellei nisi tu aliquid dixisses, nihil sane ex me quidem audire potuisses. mihi enim non tam facile in mentem venire solet quare verum sit aliquid quam quare falsum; idque cum saepe tum cum te audirem paulo ante contigit. roges me qualem naturam deorum esse dicam: nihil fortasse respondeam; quaeras putemne talem esse qualis modo a te sit exposita: nihil dicam mihi videri minus.”

“Sed ante quam adgrediar ad ea quae a te disputata sunt de te ipso dicam quid sentiam.”

[1.58]
“Saepe enim de L. Crasso illo familiari tuo videor audisse, cum te togatis omnibus sine dubio anteferret, paucos tecum Epicureos e Graecia compararet, sed, quod ab eo te mirifice diligi intellegebam, arbitrabar illum propter benivolentiam uberius id dicere. ego autem, etsi vereor laudare praesentem, iudico tamen de re obscura atque difficili a te dictum esse dilucide, neque sententiis solum copiose sed verbis etiam ornatius quam solent vestri.”

[1.59]
“Zenonem, quem Philo noster coryphaeum appellare Epicureorum solebat, cum Athenis essem audiebam frequenter, et quidem ipso auctore Philone, credo ut facilius iudicarem quam illa bene refellerentur, cum a principe Epicureorum accepissem quem ad modum dicerentur. non igitur ille ut plerique, sed isto modo ut tu, distincte graviter ornate. Sed quod in illo mihi usu saepe venit, idem modo cum te audirem accidebat, ut moleste ferrem tantum ingenium (bona venia me audies) in tam leves ne dicam in tam ineptas sententias incidisse.”

[1.60]
“Nec ego nunc ipse aliquid adferam melius. ut enim modo dixi, omnibus fere in rebus sed maxime in physicis quid non sit citius quam quid sit dixerim. roges me quid aut quale sit deus: auctore utar Simonide, de quo cum quaesivisset hoc idem tyrannus Hiero, deliberandi sibi unum diem postulavit; cum idem ex eo postridie quaereret, biduum petivit; cum saepius duplicaret numerum dierum admiransque Hiero requireret cur ita faceret, “quia quanto diutius considero” inquit “tanto mihi spes videtur obscurior”. Sed Simoniden arbitror (non enim poeta solum suavis verum etiam ceteroqui doctus sapiensque traditur), quia multa venirent in mentem acuta atque subtilia, dubitantem quid eorum esset verissimum desperasse omnem veritatem.”

[1.61]
“Epicurus vero tuus (nam cum illo malo disserere quam tecum) quid dicit quod non modo philosophia dignum esset sed mediocri prudentia?”

“Quaeritur primum in ea quaestione quae est de natura deorum, sintne dei necne sint. “Difficile est negare.” Credo si in contione quaeratur, sed in huius modi sermone et in consessu <familiari> facillimum. itaque ego ipse pontifex, qui caerimonias religionesque publicas sanctissime tuendas arbitror, is hoc quod primum est, esse deos, persuaderi mihi non opinione solum sed etiam ad veritatem plane velim. multa enim occurrunt quae conturbent, ut interdum nulli esse videantur.”

[1.62]
“Sed vide quam tecum agam liberaliter: quae communia sunt vobis cum ceteris philosophis non attingam, ut hoc ipsum; placet enim omnibus fere mihique ipsi in primis deos esse. itaque non pugno; rationem tamen eam quae a te adfertur non satis firmam puto. Quod enim omnium gentium generumque hominibus ita videretur, id satis magnum argumentum esse dixisti cur esse deos confiteremur. quod cum leve per se tum etiam falsum est. Primum enim unde tibi notae sunt opiniones nationum? equidem arbitror multas esse gentes sic inmanitate efferatas, ut apud eas nulla suspicio deorum sit.”

[1.63]
“Quid Diagoras, Atheos qui dictus est, posteaque Theodorus nonne aperte deorum naturam sustulerunt? nam Abderites quidem Protagoras, cuius a te modo mentio facta est, sophistes temporibus illis vel maximus, cum in principio libri sic posuisset “de divis neque ut sint neque ut non sint habeo dicere”, Atheniensium iussu urbe atque agro est exterminatus librique eius in contione combusti; ex quo equidem existimo tardioris ad hanc sententiam profitendam multos esse factos, quippe cum poenam ne dubitatio quidem effugere potuisset. Quid de sacrilegis, quid de impiis periurisque dicemus?
Tubulus si Lucius umquam,

si Lupus aut Carbo aut Neptuni filius,
ut ait Lucilius, putasset esse deos, tam periurus aut tam inpurus fuisset?”

[1.64]
“Non est igitur tam explorata ista ratio ad id quod vultis confirmandum quam videtur. sed quia commune hoc est argumentum aliorum etiam philosophorum, omittam hoc tempore; ad vestra propria venire malo.”

[1.65]
“Concedo esse deos; doce me igitur unde sint ubi sint quales sint corpore animo vita; haec enim scire desidero. Abuteris ad omnia atomorum regno et licentia; hinc quodcumque in solum venit, ut dicitur, effingis atque efficis. Quae primum nullae sunt. nihil est enim […] quod vacet corpore, corporibus autem omnis obsidetur locus; ita nullum inane, nihil esse individuum potest.”

[1.66]
“Haec ego nunc physicorum oracla fundo, vera an falsa nescio, sed veri [simile] tamen similiora quam vestra. ista enim flagitia Democriti sive etiam ante Leucippi, esse corpuscula quaedam levia alia aspera, rutunda alia, partim autem angulata et hamata, curvata quaedam et quasi adunca, ex iis effectum esse caelum atque terram nulla cogente natura sed concursu quodam fortuito—hanc tu opinionem C. Vellei usque ad hanc aetatem perduxisti, priusque te quis de omni vitae statu quam de ista auctoritate deiecerit; ante enim iudicasti Epicureum te esse oportere quam ista cognovisti: ita necesse fuit aut haec flagitia concipere animo aut susceptae philosophiae nomen amittere.”

[1.67]
“quid enim mereas, ut Epicureus esse desinas? “Nihil equidem” inquis “ut rationem vitae beatae veritatemque deseram”. Ista igitur est veritas? nam de vita beata nihil repugno, quam tu ne in deo quidem esse censes nisi plane otio langueat. sed ubi est veritas? in mundis credo innumerabilibus omnibus minimis temporum punctis aliis nascentibus aliis cadentibus; an in individuis corpusculis tam praeclara opera nulla moderante natura nulla ratione fingentibus? Sed oblitus liberalitatis meae, qua tecum paulo ante uti coeperam, plura complector. Concedam igitur ex individuis constare omnia; quid ad rem?”

[1.68]
“deorum enim natura quaeritur. sint sane ex atomis; non igitur aeterni. †quia enim ex atomis, id natum aliquandost; si natum, nulli dei ante quam nati; et si ortus est deorum, interitus sit necesse est, ut tu paulo ante de Platonis mundo disputabas. ubi igitur illud vestrum beatum et aeternum, quibus duobus verbis significatis deum? Quod cum efficere vultis, in dumeta conrepitis. ita enim dicebas, non corpus esse in deo sed quasi corpus, nec sanguinem sed tamquam sanguinem.”

[1.69]
“Hoc persaepe facitis, ut, cum aliquid non veri simile dicatis et effugere reprehensionem velitis, adferatis aliquid quod omnino ne fieri quidem possit, ut satius fuerit illud ipsum de quo ambigebatur concedere quam tam inpudenter resistere. Velut Epicurus cum videret, si atomi ferrentur in locum inferiorem suopte pondere, nihil fore in nostra potestate, quod esset earum motus certus et necessarius, invenit quo modo necessitatem effugeret, quod videlicet Democritum fugerat: ait atomum, cum pondere et gravitate directo deorsus feratur, declinare paululum.”

[1.70]
“hoc dicere turpius est quam illud quod vult non posse defendere. Idem facit contra dialecticos; a quibus cum traditum sit in omnibus diiunctionibus, in quibus “aut etiam aut non” poneretur, alterum utrum esse verum, pertimuit ne, si concessum esset huius modi aliquid “aut vivet cras aut non vivet Epicurus”, alterutrum fieret necessarium: totum hoc “aut etiam aut non” negavit esse necessarium; quo quid dici potuit obtusius? Urguebat Arcesilas Zenonem, cum ipse falsa omnia diceret quae sensibus viderentur, Zenon autem non nulla visa esse falsa non omnia; timuit Epicurus ne, si unum visum esset falsum, nullum esset verum: omnes sensus veri nuntios dixit esse. Nihil horum nisi †valde; graviorem enim plagam accipiebat ut leviorem repelleret.”

[1.71]
“Idem facit in natura deorum: dum individuorum corporum concretionem fugit ne interitus et dissipatio consequatur, negat esse corpus deorum sed tamquam corpus, nec sanguinem sed tamquam sanguinem. Mirabile videtur quod non rideat haruspex cum haruspicem viderit; hoc mirabilius quam <ut> vos inter vos risum tenere possitis? “non est corpus sed quasi corpus”: hoc intellegerem quale esset, si in cereis fingeretur aut fictilibus figuris; in deo quid sit quasi corpus aut quid sit quasi sanguis intellegere non possum. ne tu quidem Vellei, sed non vis fateri.”

[1.72]
“Ista enim a vobis quasi dictata redduntur, quae Epicurus oscitans halucinatus est, cum quidem gloriaretur, ut videmus in scriptis, se magistrum habuisse nullum. quod et non praedicanti tamen facile equidem crederem, sicut mali aedificii domino glorianti se architectum non habuisse; nihil enim olet ex Academia, nihil [ne] ex Lycio, nihil ne e puerilibus quidem disciplinis. Xenocraten audire potuit (quem virum, dii inmortales), et sunt qui putent audisse; ipse non vult: credo, plus nemini. Pamphilum quendam Platonis auditorem ait a se Sami auditum (ibi enim adulescens habitabat cum patre et fratribus, quod in eam pater eius Neocles agripeta venerat, sed cum agellus eum non satis aleret ut opinor, ludi magister fuit);”

[1.73]
“sed hunc Platonicum mirifice contemnit Epicurus: ita metuit ne quid umquam didicisse videatur. In Nausiphane Democriteo tenetur; quem cum a se non neget auditum vexat tamen omnibus contumeliis. atqui si haec Democritea non audisset, quid audierat, quid est in physicis Epicuri non a Democrito? nam etsi quaedam commutavit, ut quod paulo ante de inclinatione atomorum dixi, tamen pleraque dicit eadem, atomos inane, imagines infinitatem locorum innumerabilitatemque mundorum, eorum ortus interitus, omnia fere quibus naturae ratio continetur.”

“Nunc istuc quasi corpus et quasi sanguinem quid intellegis?”

[1.74]
“ego enim te scire ista melius quam me non fateor solum sed etiam facile patior; cum quidem semel dicta sunt, quid est quod Velleius intellegere possit Cotta non possit? itaque corpus quid sit sanguis quid sit intellego, quasi corpus et quasi sanguis quid sit nullo prorsus modo intellego. neque tu me celas ut Pythagoras solebat alienos, nec consulto dicis occulte tamquam Heraclitus, sed, quod inter nos liceat, ne tu quidem intellegis.”

[1.75]
“Illud video pugnare te, species ut quaedam sit deorum, quae nihil concreti habeat nihil solidi nihil expressi nihil eminentis, sitque pura levis perlucida. dicemus igitur idem quod in Venere Coa: corpus illud non est sed simile corporis, nec ille fusus et candore mixtus rubor sanguis est sed quaedam sanguinis similitudo; sic in Epicureo deo non rem sed similitudines esse rerum.”

“Fac id quod ne intellegi quidem potest mihi esse persuasum; cedo mihi istorum adumbratorum deorum liniamenta atque formas.”

[1.76]
“Non deest hoc loco copia rationum, quibus docere velitis humanas esse formas deorum; primum quod ita sit informatum anticipatum- <que> mentibus nostris, ut homini, cum de deo cogitet, forma occurrat humana; deinde cum, quoniam rebus omnibus excellat natura divina, forma quoque esse pulcherrima debeat, nec esse humana ullam pulchriorem; tertiam rationem adfertis, quod nulla in alia figura domicilium mentis esse possit.”

[1.77]
“primum igitur quidque considera quale sit; arripere enim mihi videmini quasi vestro iure rem nullo modo probabilem.”

“<Primum> omnium quis tam caecus in contemplandis rebus umquam fuit, ut non videret species istas hominum conlatas in deos aut consilio quodam sapientium, quo facilius animos imperitorum ad deorum cultum a vitae pravitate converterent, aut superstitione, ut essent simulacra quae venerantes deos ipsos se adire crederent. auxerunt autem haec eadem poetae pictores opifices; erat enim non facile agentis aliquid et molientes deos in aliarum formarum imitatione servare.”

“Accessit etiam ista opinio fortasse, quod homini homine pulchrius nihil videatur. Sed tu hoc physice non vides, quam blanda conciliatrix et quasi sui sit lena natura? an putas ullam esse terra marique beluam quae non sui generis belua maxime delectetur? quod ni ita esset, cur non gestiret taurus equae contrectatione, equus vaccae? an tu aquilam aut leonem aut delphinum ullam anteferre censes figuram suae? quid igitur mirum si hoc eodem modo homini natura praescripsit, ut nihil pulchrius quam hominem putaret? […] eam esse causam cur deos hominum similis putaremus: quid censes, si ratio esset in beluis, non suo quasque generi plurimum tributuras fuisse?”

[1.78]
“At mehercule ego (dicam enim ut sentio) quamvis amem ipse me tamen non audeo dicere pulchriorem esse me quam ille fuerit taurus qui vexit Europam; non enim hoc loco de ingeniis aut de orationibus nostris sed de specie figuraque quaeritur. quod si fingere nobis et iungere formas velimus, qualis ille maritimus Triton pingitur, natantibus invehens beluis adiunctis humano corpori, nolis esse. Difficili in loco versor; est enim vis tanta naturae, ut homo nemo velit nisi hominis similis esse— et quidem formica formicae.”

[1.79]
“Sed tamen cuius hominis? quotus enim quisque formonsus est: Athenis cum essem, e gregibus epheborum vix singuli reperiebantur —video quid adriseris, sed ita tamen se res habet. Deinde nobis, qui concedentibus philosophis antiquis adulescentulis delectamur, etiam vitia saepe iucunda sunt. naevos in articulo pueri delectat Alcaeum; at est corporis macula naevos; illi tamen hoc lumen videbatur. Q. Catulus, huius collegae et familiaris nostri pater, dilexit municipem tuum Roscium, in quem etiam illud est eius:
constiteram exorientem Auroram forte salutans,

cum subito a laeva Roscius exoritur.

pace mihi liceat caelestes dicere vestra:

mortalis visus pulchrior esse deo.
huic deo pulchrior; at erat, sicuti hodie est, perversissimis oculis: quid refert, si hoc ipsum salsum illi et venustum videbatur?”

[1.80]
“Redeo ad deos. ecquos si non tam strabones at paetulos esse arbitramur, ecquos naevum habere, ecquos silos flaccos frontones capitones, quae sunt in nobis, an omnia emendata in illis? Detur id vobis; num etiam una est omnium facies? nam si plures, aliam esse alia pulchriorem necesse est, igitur aliquis non pulcherrimus deus; si una omnium facies est, florere in caelo Academiam necesse est: si enim nihil inter deum et deum differt, nulla est apud deos cognitio, nulla perceptio.”

[1.81]
“Quid si etiam Vellei falsum illud omnino est, nullam aliam nobis de deo cogitantibus speciem nisi hominis occurrere: tamenne ista tam absurda defendes? Nobis fortasse sic occurrit ut dicis; a parvis enim Iovem Iunonem Minervam Neptunum Vulcanum Apollinem reliquos deos ea facie novimus qua pictores fictoresque voluerunt, neque solum facie sed etiam ornatu aetate vestitu. at non Aegyptii nec Syri nec fere cuncta barbaria; firmiores enim videas apud eos opiniones esse de bestiis quibusdam quam apud nos de sanctissimis templis et simulacris deorum.”

[1.82]
“etenim fana multa spoliata et simulacra deorum de locis sanctissimis ablata videmus a nostris, at vero ne fando quidem auditumst crocodilum aut ibin aut faelem violatum ab Aegyptio. quid igitur censes Apim illum sanctum Aegyptiorum bovem nonne deum videri Aegyptiis? tam hercle quam tibi illam vestram Sospitam. Quam tu numquam ne in somnis quidem vides nisi cum pelle caprina cum hasta cum scutulo cum calceolis repandis. at non est talis Argia nec Romana Iuno. ergo alia species Iunonis Argivis alia Lanuinis. et quidem alia nobis Capitolini alia Afris Hammonis Iovis.”

[1.83]
“Non pudet igitur physicum id est speculatorem venatoremque naturae ab animis consuetudine inbutis petere testimonium veritatis? isto enim modo dicere licebit Iovem semper barbatum, Apollinem semper inberbem, caesios oculos Minervae, caeruleos esse Neptuni. et quidem laudamus esse Athenis Volcanum eum quem fecit Alcamenes, in quo stante atque vestito leviter apparet claudicatio non deformis: claudum igitur habebimus deum, quoniam de Volcano sic accepimus. Age et his vocabulis esse deos facimus quibus a nobis nominantur?”

[1.84]
“at primum quot hominum linguae tot nomina deorum; non enim ut tu Velleius quocumque veneris sic idem in Italia Volcanus idem in Africa idem in Hispania. deinde nominum non magnus numerus ne in pontificiis quidem nostris, deorum autem innumerabilis. an sine nominibus sunt? istud quidem ita vobis dicere necesse est; quid enim attinet, cum una facies sit, plura esse nomina? Quam bellum erat Vellei confiteri potius nescire quod nescires quam ista effutientem nauseare atque ipsum sibi displicere. An tu mei similem putas esse aut tui deum? profecto non putas.”

““Quid ergo, solem dicam aut lunam aut caelum deum? ergo etiam beatum: quibus fruentem voluptatibus? et sapientem: qui potest esse in eius modi trunco sapientia?””

[1.85]
“haec vestra sunt. Si igitur nec humano […], quod docui, nec tali aliquo, quod tibi ita persuasum est, quid dubitas negare deos esse? non audes. sapienter id quidem, etsi hoc loco non populum metuis sed ipsos deos. novi ego Epicureos omnia sigilla venerantes. Quamquam video non nullis videri Epicurum, ne in offensionem Atheniensium caderet, verbis reliquisse deos re sustulisse. itaque in illis selectis eius brevibusque sententiis, quas appellatis κυρίας δόξας, haec ut opinor prima sententia est: “quod beatum et inmortale est id nec habet nec exhibet cuiquam negotium”; in hac ita exposita sententia sunt qui existiment, quod ille inscitia plane loquendi fecerit, fecisse consulto:”

[1.86]
“de homine minime vafro male existimant. dubium est enim utrum dicat aliquid esse beatum et inmortale an si quod sit id esse tale. non animadvertunt hic eum ambigue locutum esse, sed multis aliis locis et illum et Metrodorum tam aperte quam paulo ante te. Ille vero deos esse putat, nec quemquam vidi qui magis ea quae timenda esse negaret timeret, mortem dico et deos: quibus mediocres homines non ita valde moventur, his ille clamat omnium mortalium mentes esse perterritas; tot milia latrocinantur morte proposita, alii omnia quae possunt fana conpilant: credo aut illos mortis timor terret aut hos religionis.”

“Sed quoniam non audes (iam enim cum ipso Epicuro loquar) negare esse deos, quid est quod te inpediat aut solem aut mundum aut mentem aliquam sempiternam in deorum numero ponere?”

[1.87]
““Numquam vidi” inquit “animam rationis consilique participem in ulla alia nisi humana figura”. Quid solis numquidnam aut lunae aut quinque errantium siderum simile vidisti? sol duabus unius orbis ultimis partibus definiens motum cursus annuos conficit; huius hanc lustrationem eiusdem incensa radiis menstruo spatio luna complet; quinque autem stellae eundem orbem tenentes, aliae propius a terris aliae remotius, ab isdem principiis disparibus temporibus eadem spatia conficiunt. num quid tale Epicure vidisti?”

[1.88]
“ne sit igitur sol ne luna ne stellae, quoniam nihil esse potest nisi quod attigimus aut vidimus. Quid deum ipsum numne vidisti? cur igitur credis esse? Omnia tollamus ergo quae aut historia nobis aut ratio nova adfert. ita fit ut mediterranei mare esse non credant. quae sunt tantae animi angustiae ut, si Seriphi natus esses nec umquam egressus ex insula, in qua lepusculos vulpeculasque saepe vidisses, non crederes leones et pantheras esse, cum tibi quales essent dicerentur, si vero de elephanto quis diceret, etiam rideri te putares.”

[1.89]
“Et tu quidem Vellei non vestro more sed dialecticorum, quae funditus gens vestra non novit, <angustia> argumenti sententiam conclusisti. Beatos esse deos sumpsisti: concedimus. beatum autem esse sine virtute neminem posse: id quoque damus, et libenter quidem. virtutem autem sine ratione constare non posse: conveniat id quoque necesse est. Adiungis nec rationem esse nisi in hominis figura. quem tibi hoc daturum putas? si enim ita esset, quid opus erat te gradatim istuc pervenire? sumpsisses tuo iure. quod autem est istuc gradatim? nam a beatis ad virtutem, a virtute ad rationem video te venisse gradibus; a ratione ad humanam figuram quo modo accedis? praecipitare istuc quidem est, non descendere.”

[1.90]
“Nec vero intellego cur maluerit Epicurus deos hominum similes dicere quam homines deorum. quaeres quid intersit; si enim hoc illi simile sit, esse illud huic. video, sed hoc dico, non ab hominibus formae figuram venisse ad deos; di enim semper fuerunt, nati numquam sunt, si quidem aeterni sunt futuri; at homines nati; ante igitur humana forma quam homines, eaque erant forma dii inmortales: non ergo illorum humana forma sed nostra divina dicenda est.”

“Verum hoc quidem ut voletis; illud quaero, quae fuerit tanta fortuna (nihil enim ratione in rerum natura”

[1.91]
“factum esse vultis)—sed tamen quis iste tantus casus, unde tam felix concursus atomorum, ut repente homines deorum forma nascerentur? Seminane deorum decidisse de caelo putamus in terras et sic homines patrum similes extitisse? vellem diceretis; deorum cognationem agnoscerem non invitus. nihil tale dicitis, sed casu esse factum ut essemus similes deorum. Et nunc argumenta quaerenda sunt quibus hoc refellatur. utinam tam facile vera invenire possim quam falsa convincere.”

“Etenim enumerasti memoriter et copiose, ut mihi quidem admirari luberet in homine esse Romano tantam scientiam, usque a Thale Milesio de deorum natura philosophorum sententias.”

[1.92]
“omnesne tibi illi delirare visi sunt qui sine manibus et pedibus constare deum posse decreverint?”

“Ne hoc quidem vos movet considerantis, quae sit utilitas quaeque oportunitas in homine membrorum, ut iudicetis membris humanis deos non egere? quid enim pedibus opus est sine ingressu, quid manibus si nihil conprehendendum est, quid reliqua discriptione omnium corporis partium, in qua nihil inane nihil sine causa nihil supervacuaneum est, itaque nulla ars imitari sollertiam naturae potest. habebit igitur linguam deus et non loquetur, dentes palatum fauces nullum ad usum, quaeque procreationis causa natura corpori adfinxit ea frustra habebit deus; nec externa magis quam interiora, cor pulmones iecur cetera— quae detracta utilitate quid habent venustatis (quando quidem haec esse in deo propter pulchritudinem voltis)?”

[1.93]
“Istisne fidentes somniis non modo Epicurus et Metrodorus et Hermarchus contra Pythagoram Platonem Empedoclemque dixerunt, sed meretricula etiam Leontium contra Theophrastum scribere ausast —scito illa quidem sermone et Attico, sed tamen: tantum Epicuri hortus habuit licentiae. Et soletis queri; Zeno quidem etiam litigabat; quid dicam Albucium; nam Phaedro nihil elegantius nihil humanius, sed stomachabatur senex si quid asperius dixeram, cum Epicurus Aristotelem vexarit contumeliosissime, Phaedoni Socratico turpissime male dixerit, Metrodori sodalis sui fratrem Timocraten, quia nescio quid in philosophia dissentiret, totis voluminibus conciderit, in Democritum ipsum quem secutus est fuerit ingratus, Nausiphanem magistrum suum, a quo <non> nihil didicerat, tam male acceperit. Zeno quidem non eos solum qui tum erant, Apollodorum Sillim ceteros, figebat maledictis, sed Socraten ipsum parentem philosophiae Latino verbo utens scurram Atticum fuisse dicebat, Chrysippum numquam nisi Chrysippam vocabat.”

[1.94]
“tu ipse paulo ante cum tamquam senatum philosophorum recitares, summos viros desipere delirare dementis esse dicebas. quorum si nemo verum vidit de natura deorum, verendum est ne nulla sit omnino.”

“Nam ista quae vos dicitis sunt tota commenticia, vix digna lucubratione anicularum. non enim sentitis quam multa vobis suscipienda sint si inpetraritis ut concedamus eandem hominum esse et deorum figuram. omnis cultus et curatio corporis erit eadem adhibenda deo quae adhibetur homini, ingressus cursus accubitio inclinatio sessio conprehensio, ad extremum etiam sermo et oratio.”

[1.95]
“nam quod et maris deos et feminas esse dicitis, quid sequatur videtis. equidem mirari satis non possum unde ad istas opiniones vester ille princeps venerit.”

“Sed clamare non desinitis retinendum hoc esse, deus ut beatus inmortalisque sit. quid autem obstat quo minus sit beatus si non sit bipes, aut ista sive beatitas sive beatitudo dicendast (utrumque omnino durum, sed usu mollienda nobis verba sunt)—verum ea quaecumque est cur aut in solem illum aut in hunc mundum aut in aliquam mentem aeternam figura membrisque corporis vacuam cadere non potest?”

[1.96]
“nihil aliud dicis nisi “Numquam vidi solem aut mundum beatum”. Quid mundum praeter hunc umquamne vidisti? negabis. cur igitur non sescenta milia esse mundorum sed innumerabilia ausus es dicere? “Ratio docuit.” Ergo hoc te ratio non docebit, cum praestantissima natura quaeratur eaque beata et aeterna, quae sola divina naturast, ut inmortalitate vincamur ab ea natura sic animi praestantia vinci, atque ut animi item corporis? cur igitur, cum ceteris rebus inferiores simus, forma pares sumus; ad similitudinem enim deorum propius accedebat humana virtus quam figura.”

[1.97]
“An quicquam tam puerile dici potest (ut eundem locum diutius urgeam) quam si ea genera beluarum, quae in rubro mari Indiave gignantur, nulla esse dicamus? atqui ne curiosissimi quidem homines exquirendo audire tam multa possunt quam sunt multa quae terra mari paludibus fluminibus existunt; quae negemus esse, quia numquam vidimus?”

“Ipsa vero quam nihil ad rem pertinet, quae vos delectat maxime, similitudo. quid canis nonne similis lupo (atque, ut Ennius, “simia quam similis turpissuma bestia nobis”); at mores in utroque dispares. elephanto beluarum nulla prudentior;”

[1.98]
“ad figuram quae vastior? de bestiis loquor; quid inter ipsos homines nonne et simillimis formis dispares mores et moribus <paribus> figura dissimilis?”

“Etenim si semel Vellei suscipimus genus hoc argumenti, attende quo serpat. tu enim sumebas nisi in hominis figura rationem inesse non posse; sumet alius nisi in terrestri, nisi in eo qui natus sit, nisi in eo qui adoleverit, nisi in eo qui didicerit, nisi in eo qui ex animo constet et corpore caduco et infirmo, postremo nisi in homine atque mortali. quod si in omnibus his rebus obsistis, quid est quod te forma una conturbet? his enim omnibus quae proposui adiunctis in homine rationem esse et mentem videbas; quibus detractis deum tamen nosse te dicis, modo liniamenta maneant. hoc est non considerare sed quasi sortiri quid loquare.”

[1.99]
“Nisi forte ne hoc quidem adtendis, non modo in homine sed etiam in arbore quicquid supervacuaneum sit aut usum non habeat obstare. quam molestum est uno digito plus habere; quid ita? quia nec speciem nec usum alium quinque desiderant. tuus autem deus non digito uno redundat sed capite collo cervicibus lateribus alvo tergo poplitibus manibus pedibus feminibus cruribus. si ut inmortalis sit, quid haec ad vitam membra pertinent, quid ipsa facies? magis illa, cerebrum cor pulmones iecur: haec enim sunt domicilia vitae; oris quidem habitus ad vitae firmitatem nihil pertinet.”

[1.100]
“Et eos vituperabas, qui ex operibus magnificis atque praeclaris, cum ipsum mundum, cum eius membra caelum terras maria, cumque horum insignia solem lunam stellasque vidissent, cumque temporum maturitates mutationes vicissitudinesque cognovissent, suspicati essent aliquam excellentem esse praestantemque naturam, quae haec effecisset moveret regeret gubernaret. qui etiam si aberrant a coniectura, video tamen quid sequantur: tu quod opus tandem magnum et egregium habes quod effectum divina mente videatur, ex quo esse deos suspicere? “Habebam” inquis “in animo insitam informationem quandam dei”. Et barbati quidem Iovis, galeatae Minervae: num igitur esse talis putas?”

[1.101]
“Quanto melius haec vulgus imperitorum, qui non membra solum hominis deo tribuant sed usum etiam membrorum; dant enim arcum sagittas hastam clipeum fuscinam fulmen, et si actiones quae sint deorum non vident, nihil agentem tamen deum non queunt cogitare. ipsi qui inridentur Aegyptii nullam beluam nisi ob aliquam utilitatem quam ex ea caperent consecraverunt; velut ibes maximam vim serpentium conficiunt, cum sint aves excelsae cruribus rigidis corneo proceroque rostro; avertunt pestem ab Aegypto, cum volucris anguis ex vastitate Libyae vento Africo invectas interficiunt atque consumunt, ex quo fit ut illae nec morsu vivae noceant nec odore mortuae. possum de ichneumonum utilitate de crocodilorum de faelium dicere, sed nolo esse longus. ita concludam, tamen beluas a barbaris propter beneficium consecratas, vestrorum deorum non modo beneficium nullum extare, sed ne factum quidem omnino.”

[1.102]
““Nihil habet” inquit “negotii”. Profecto Epicurus quasi pueri delicati nihil cessatione melius existimat. at ipsi tamen pueri etiam cum cessant exercitatione aliqua ludicra delectantur: deum sic feriatum volumus cessatione torpere, ut, si se commoverit, vereamur ne beatus esse non possit? haec oratio non modo deos spoliat motu et actione divina, sed etiam homines inertis efficit, si quidem agens aliquid ne deus quidem esse beatus potest.”

[1.103]
“Verum sit sane, ut vultis, deus effigies hominis et imago: quod eius est domicilium quae sedes qui locus, quae deinde actio vitae, quibus rebus, id quod vultis, beatus est? utatur enim suis bonis oportet <et> fruatur qui beatus futurus est. nam locus quidem his etiam naturis, quae sine animis sunt, suus est cuique proprius, ut terra infimum teneat, hanc inundet aqua, superior <aeri>, aetheriis ignibus altissima ora reddatur; bestiarum autem terrenae sunt aliae, partim aquatiles, aliae quasi ancipites in utraque sede viventes, sunt quaedam etiam quae igne nasci putentur appareantque in ardentibus fornacibus saepe volitantes.”

[1.104]
“Quaero igitur vester deus primum ubi habitet, deinde quae causa eum loco moveat, si modo movetur aliquando, post, cum hoc proprium sit animantium ut aliquid adpetant quod sit naturae accommodatum, deus quid appetat, ad quam denique rem motu mentis ac rationis utatur, postremo quo modo beatus sit quo modo aeternus. quicquid enim horum attigeris ulcus est: ita male instituta ratio exitum reperire non potest.”

[1.105]
“Sic enim dicebas, speciem dei percipi cogitatione non sensu, nec esse in ea ullam soliditatem, neque eandem ad numerum permanere, eamque esse eius visionem ut similitudine et transitione cernatur neque deficiat umquam ex infinitis corporibus similium accessio, ex eoque fieri ut in haec intenta mens nostra beatam illam naturam et sempiternam putet. hoc, per ipsos deos de quibus loquimur, quale tandem est? nam si tantum modo ad cogitationem valent nec habent ullam soliditatem nec eminentiam, quid interest utrum de hippocentauro an de deo cogitemus; omnem enim talem conformationem animi ceteri philosophi motum inanem vocant, vos autem adventum in animos et introitum imaginum dicitis.”

[1.106]
“ut igitur, Ti. Gracchum cum videor contionantem in Capitolio videre de M. Octavio deferentem sitellam, tum eum motum animi dico esse inanem, tu autem et Gracchi et Octavi imagines remanere, quae in Capitolium cum pervenerint tum ad animum meum referantur—hoc idem fieri in deo, cuius crebra facie pellantur animi, ex quo esse beati atque aeterni intellegantur.”

[1.107]
“Fac imagines esse quibus pulsentur animi: species dumtaxat obicitur quaedam; num etiam cur ea beata sit cur aeterna?”

“Quae autem istae imagines vestrae aut unde? a Democrito omnino haec licentia; sed et ille reprehensus a multis est, nec vos exitum reperitis, totaque res vacillat et claudicat. nam quid est quod minus probari possit, omnium in me incidere imagines, Homeri Archilochi Romuli Numae Pythagorae Platonis—nec ea forma qua illi fuerunt: quo modo illi ergo? et quorum imagines: Orpheum poetam docet Aristoteles numquam fuisse, et hoc Orphicum carmen Pythagorei ferunt cuiusdam fuisse Cerconis; at Orpheus, id est imago eius ut vos vultis, in animum meum saepe incurrit.”

[1.108]
“Quid quod eiusdem hominis in meum aliae aliae in tuum; quid quod earum rerum quae numquam omnino fuerunt neque esse potuerunt, ut Scyllae ut Chimaerae; quid quod hominum locorum urbium earum quas numquam vidimus; quid quod simul ac mihi collibitum est praesto est imago; quid quod etiam ad dormientem veniunt invocatae. tota res Vellei nugatoria est. Vos autem non modo oculis imagines sed etiam animis inculcatis: tanta est inpunitas garriendi. At quam licenter.”

[1.109]
““Fluentium frequenter transitio fit visionum, ut e multis una videatur.” Puderet me dicere non intellegere, si vos ipsi intellegeretis qui ista defenditis. quo modo enim probas continenter imagines ferri, aut si continenter, quo modo aeterne? “Innumerabilitas” inquit “suppeditat atomorum”. Num eadem ergo ista faciet ut sint omnia sempiterna? Confugis ad aequilibritatem (sic enim ἰσονομίαν si placet appellemus) et ais, quoniam sit natura mortalis, inmortalem etiam esse oportere. isto modo, quoniam homines mortales sunt, sint aliqui inmortales, et quoniam nascuntur in terra, nascantur in aqua. “Et quia sunt quae interimant, sint quae conservent.” Sint sane, sed ea conservent quae sunt; deos istos esse non sentio.”

[1.110]
“Omnis tamen ista rerum effigies ex individuis quo modo corporibus oritur? quae etiam si essent, quae nulla sunt, pellere sepse et agitari inter se concursu fortasse possent, formare figurare colorare animare non possent. Nullo igitur modo inmortalem deum efficitis.”

“Videamus nunc de beato. Sine virtute certe nullo modo; virtus autem actuosa; et deus vester nihil agens; expers virtutis igitur;”

[1.111]
“ita ne beatus quidem. Quae ergo vita? “Suppeditatio” inquis “bonorum nullo malorum interventu”. Quorum tandem bonorum? voluptatum credo, nempe ad corpus pertinentium; nullam enim novistis nisi profectam a corpore et redeuntem ad corpus animi voluptatem. non arbitror te velle similem esse Epicureorum reliquorum, quos pudeat quarundam Epicuri vocum, quibus ille testatur se <ne> intellegere quidem ullum bonum quod sit seiunctum a delicatis et obscenis voluptatibus; quas quidem non erubescens persequitur omnis nominatim.”

[1.112]
“quem cibum igitur aut quas potiones aut quas vocum aut florum varietates aut quos tactus quos odores adhibebis ad deos, ut eos perfundas voluptatibus? ac poetae quidem nectar ambrosiam epulas conparant et aut Iuventatem aut Ganymedem pocula ministrantem, tu autem Epicure quid facies? neque enim unde habeat ista deus tuus video nec quo modo utatur. locupletior igitur hominum natura ad beate vivendum est quam deorum, quod pluribus generibus fruitur voluptatum.”

[1.113]
“At has levioris ducis voluptates, quibus quasi titillatio (Epicuri enim hoc verbum est) adhibetur sensibus. quo usque ludis? nam etiam Philo noster ferre non poterat aspernari Epicureos mollis et delicatas voluptates. summa enim memoria pronuntiabat plurimas Epicuri sententias is ipsis verbis quibus erant scriptae. Metrodori vero, qui est Epicuri collega sapientiae, multa inpudentiora recitabat; accusat enim Timocratem fratrem suum Metrodorus, quod dubitet omnia quae ad beatam vitam pertineant ventre metiri, neque id semel dicit sed saepius. adnuere te video, nota enim tibi sunt; proferrem libros si negares. Neque nunc reprehendo quod ad voluptatem omnia referantur (alia est ea quaestio), sed doceo deos vestros esse voluptatis expertes, ita vestro iudicio ne beatos quidem. “At dolore vacant.””

[1.114]
“Satin est id ad illam abundantem bonis vitam beatissimam? “Cogitat” inquiunt “adsidue beatum esse se; habet enim nihil aliud quod agitet in mente”. Conprehende igitur animo et propone ante oculos deum nihil aliud in omni aeternitate nisi “mihi pulchre est” et “ego beatus sum” cogitantem. Nec tamen video quo modo non vereatur iste deus beatus ne intereat, cum sine ulla intermissione pulsetur agiteturque atomorum incursione sempiterna, cumque ex ipso imagines semper afluant. Ita nec beatus est vester deus nec aeternus.”

[1.115]
““At etiam de sanctitate de pietate adversus deos libros scripsit Epicurus.” At quo modo in his loquitur: ut <Ti.> Coruncanium aut P. Scaevolam pontifices maximos te audire dicas, non eum qui sustulerit omnem funditus religionem nec manibus ut Xerses sed rationibus deorum inmortalium templa et aras everterit. quid est enim cur deos ab hominibus colendos dicas, cum dei non modo homines non colant sed omnino nihil curent nihil agant?”

[1.116]
““At est eorum eximia quaedam praestansque natura, ut ea debeat ipsa per se ad se colendam elicere sapientem.” An quicquam eximium potest esse in ea natura, quae sua voluptate laetans nihil nec actura sit umquam neque agat neque egerit? Quae porro pietas ei debetur a quo nihil acceperis, aut quid omnino cuius nullum meritum sit ei deberi potest? est enim pietas iustitia adversum deos; cum quibus quid potest nobis esse iuris, cum homini nulla cum deo sit communitas? Sanctitas autem est scientia colendorum deorum; qui quam ob rem colendi sint non intellego nullo nec accepto ab his nec sperato bono.”

[1.117]
“Quid est autem quod deos veneremur propter admirationem eius naturae in qua egregium nihil videmus?”

“Nam superstitione, quod gloriari soletis, facile est liberare, cum sustuleris omnem vim deorum. Nisi forte Diagoram aut Theodorum, qui omnino deos esse negabant, censes superstitiosos esse potuisse; ego ne Protagoram quidem, cui neutrum licuerit, nec esse deos nec non esse. horum enim sententiae omnium non modo superstitionem tollunt, in qua inest timor inanis deorum, sed etiam religionem, quae deorum cultu pio continetur.”

[1.118]
“Quid i qui dixerunt totam de dis inmortalibus opinionem fictam esse ab hominibus sapientibus rei publicae causa, ut quos ratio non posset eos ad officium religio duceret, nonne omnem religionem funditus sustulerunt? Quid Prodicus Cius, qui ea quae prodessent hominum vitae deorum in numero habita esse dixit, quam tandem religionem reliquit?”

[1.119]
“Quid qui aut fortis aut claros aut potentis viros tradunt post mortem ad deos pervenisse, eosque esse ipsos quos nos colere precari venerarique soleamus, nonne expertes sunt religionum omnium? quae ratio maxime tractata ab Euhemero est, quem noster et interpretatus est et secutus praeter ceteros Ennius; ab Euhemero autem et mortes et sepulturae demonstrantur deorum; utrum igitur hic confirmasse videtur religionem an penitus totam sustulisse? Omitto Eleusinem sanctam illam et augustam, “ubi initiantur gentes orarum ultimae”, praetereo Samothraciam eaque quae Lemni “nocturno aditu occulta coluntur silvestribus saepibus densa”; quibus explicatis ad rationemque revocatis rerum magis natura cognoscitur quam deorum.”

[1.120]
“Mihi quidem etiam Democritus vir magnus in primis, cuius fontibus Epicurus hortulos suos inrigavit, nutare videtur in natura deorum. tum enim censet imagines divinitate praeditas inesse in universitate rerum, tum principia mentis quae sunt in eodem universo deos esse dicit, tum animantes imagines quae vel prodesse nobis solent vel nocere, tum ingentes quasdam imagines tantasque ut universum mundum conplectantur extrinsecus. quae quidem omnia sunt patria Democriti quam Democrito digniora;”

[1.121]
“quis enim istas imagines conprehendere animo potest, quis admirari, quis aut cultu aut religione dignas iudicare?”

“Epicurus vero ex animis hominum extraxit radicitus religionem, cum dis inmortalibus et opem et gratiam sustulit. cum enim optimam et praestantissumam naturam dei dicat esse, negat idem esse in deo gratiam: tollit id quod maxime proprium est optimae praestantissimaeque naturae. quid enim melius aut quid praestantius bonitate et beneficentia; qua cum carere deum vultis, neminem deo nec deum nec hominem carum, neminem ab eo amari neminem diligi vultis: ita fit ut non modo homines a deis sed ipsi dei inter se ab aliis alii neglegantur. Quanto Stoici melius, qui a vobis reprehenduntur: censent autem sapientes sapientibus etiam ignotis esse amicos; nihil est enim virtute amabilius, quam qui adeptus erit ubicumque erit gentium a nobis diligetur.”

[1.122]
“Vos autem quid mali datis, cum <in> inbecillitate gratificationem et benivolentiam ponitis. ut enim omittam vim et naturam deorum, ne homines quidem censetis, nisi inbecilli essent, futuros beneficos et benignos fuisse? nulla est caritas naturalis inter bonos? carum ipsum verbum est amoris, ex quo amicitiae nomen est ductum; quam si ad fructum nostrum referemus, non ad illius commoda quem diligemus, non erit ista amicitia sed mercatura quaedam utilitatum suarum. prata et arva et pecudum greges diliguntur isto modo, quod fructus ex is capiuntur, hominum caritas et amicitia gratuita est; quanto igitur magis deorum, qui nulla re egentes et inter se diligunt et hominibus consulunt. Quod ni ita sit, quid veneramur quid precamur deos, cur sacris pontifices cur auspiciis augures praesunt, quid optamus a deis inmortalibus quid vovemus? “At etiam liber est Epicuri de sanctitate.””

[1.123]
“Ludimur ab homine non tam faceto quam ad scribendi licentiam libero. quae enim potest esse sanctitas si dii humana non curant, quae autem animans natura nihil curans? Verius est igitur nimirum illud quod familiaris omnium nostrum Posidonius disseruit in libro quinto de natura deorum, nullos esse deos Epicuro videri, quaeque is de deis inmortalibus dixerit invidiae detestandae gratia dixisse; neque enim tam desipiens fuisset ut homunculi similem deum fingeret, liniamentis dumtaxat extremis non habitu solido, membris hominis praeditum omnibus usu membrorum ne minimo quidem, exilem quendam atque perlucidum, nihil cuiquam tribuentem nihil gratificantem, omnino nihil curantem nihil agentem. quae natura primum nulla esse potest, idque videns Epicurus re tollit oratione relinquit deos;”

[1.124]
“deinde si maxime talis est deus ut nulla gratia nulla hominum caritate teneatur, valeat—quid enim dicam “propitius sit”; esse enim propitius potest nemini, quoniam ut dicitis omnis in inbecillitate est et gratia et caritas.”

### Book 2

[2.1]
Quae cum Cotta dixisset, tum Velleius “Ne ego” inquit “incautus, qui cum Academico et eodem rhetore congredi conatus sim. nam neque indisertum Academicum pertimuissem nec sine ista philosophia rhetorem quamvis eloquentem; neque enim flumine conturbor inanium verborum nec subtilitate sententiarum si orationis est siccitas. tu autem Cotta utraque re valuisti; corona tibi et iudices defuerunt. Sed ad ista alias, nunc Lucilium, si ipsi commodum est, audiamus.”

[2.2]
Tum Balbus: “Eundem equidem mallem audire Cottam, dum qua eloquentia falsos deos sustulit eadem veros inducat. est enim et philosophi et pontificis et Cottae de dis inmortalibus habere non errantem et vagam ut Academici sed ut nostri stabilem certamque sententiam. nam contra Epicurum satis superque dictum est; sed aveo audire tu ipse Cotta quid sentias.”

“An” inquit “oblitus es quid initio dixerim, facilius me, talibus praesertim de rebus, quid non sentirem quam quid sentirem posse dicere? quod si haberem aliquid quod liqueret, tamen te vicissim audire vellem, cum ipse tam multa dixissem.”

[2.3]
Tum Balbus: “Geram tibi morem et agam quam brevissume potero; etenim convictis Epicuri erroribus longa de mea disputatione detracta oratio est. Omnino dividunt nostri totam istam de dis inmortalibus quaestionem in partis quattuor. primum docent esse deos, deinde quales sint, tum mundum ab his administrari, postremo consulere eos rebus humanis. nos autem hoc sermone quae priora duo sunt sumamus; tertium et quartum, quia maiora sunt, puto esse in aliud tempus differenda.”

“Minime vero” inquit Cotta; “nam et otiosi sumus et his de rebus agimus, quae sunt etiam negotiis anteponenda.”

[2.4]
Tum Lucilius “Ne egere quidem videtur” inquit “oratione prima pars. Quid enim potest esse tam apertum tamque perspicuum, cum caelum suspeximus caelestiaque contemplati sumus, quam esse aliquod numen praestantissimae mentis quo haec regantur? quod ni ita esset, qui potuisset adsensu omnium dicere Ennius “aspice hoc sublime candens, quem invocant omnes Iovem”—illum vero et Iovem et dominatorem rerum et omnia motu regentem et, ut idem Ennius, “patrem divumque hominumque” et praesentem ac praepotentem deum? quod qui dubitet, haud sane intellego cur non idem sol sit an nullus sit dubitare possit;”

[2.5]
“qui enim est hoc illo evidentius? Quod nisi cognitum conprehensumque animis haberemus, non tam stabilis opinio permaneret nec confirmaretur diuturnitate temporis nec una cum saeclis aetatibusque hominum inveterare potuisset. etenim videmus ceteras opiniones fictas atque vanas diuturnitate extabuisse. quis enim hippocentaurum fuisse aut Chimaeram putat, quaeve anus tam excors inveniri potest quae illa quae quondam credebantur apud inferos portenta extimescat? opinionis enim commenta delet dies, naturae iudicia confirmat.”

[2.6]
“Itaque et in nostro populo et in ceteris deorum cultus religionumque sanctitates existunt in dies maiores atque meliores; idque evenit non temere nec casu, sed quod et praesentes saepe di vim suam declarant, ut et apud Regillum bello Latinorum, cum A. Postumius dictator cum Octavio Mamillio Tusculano proelio dimicaret, in nostra acie Castor et Pollux ex equis pugnare visi sunt, et recentiore memoria idem Tyndaridae Persem victum nuntiaverunt. P. enim Vatinius avus huius adulescentis, cum e praefectura Reatina Romam venienti noctu duo iuvenes cum equis albis dixissent regem Persem illo die captum, <cum> senatui nuntiavisset, primo quasi temere de re publica locutus in carcerem coniectus est, post a Paulo litteris allatis cum idem dies constitisset, et agro a senatu et vacatione donatus est. atque etiam cum ad fluvium Sagram Crotoniatas Locri maximo proelio devicissent, eo ipso die auditam esse eam pugnam ludis Olympiae memoriae proditum est. saepe Faunorum voces exauditae, saepe visae formae deorum quemvis aut non hebetem aut impium deos praesentes esse confiteri coegerunt.”

[2.7]
“Praedictiones vero et praesensiones rerum futurarum quid aliud declarant nisi hominibus ea quae sint ostendi monstrari portendi praedici, ex quo illa ostenta monstra portenta prodigia dicuntur. Quod si ea ficta credimus licentia fabularum, Mopsum Tiresiam Amphiaraum Calchantem Helenum (quos tamen augures ne ipsae quidem fabulae adscivissent, si res omnino repudiarent), ne domesticis quidem exemplis docti numen deorum conprobabimus? Nihil nos P. Clodi bello Punico primo temeritas movebit, qui etiam per iocum deos inridens, cum cavea liberati pulli non pascerentur, mergi eos in aquam iussit, ut biberent, quoniam esse nollent? qui risus classe devicta multas ipsi lacrimas, magnam populo Romano cladem attulit. quid collega eius <L.> Iunius eodem bello nonne tempestate classem amisit, cum auspiciis non paruisset? itaque Clodius a populo condemnatus est, Iunius necem sibi ipse conscivit.”

[2.8]
“C. Flaminium Coelius religione neglecta cecidisse apud Transumenum scribit cum magno rei publicae vulnere. quorum exitio intellegi potest eorum imperiis rem publicam amplificatam qui religionibus paruissent. et si conferre volumus nostra cum externis, ceteris rebus aut pares aut etiam inferiores reperiemur, religione id est cultu deorum multo superiores.”

[2.9]
“An Atti Navi lituus ille, quo ad investigandum suem regiones vineae terminavit, contemnendus est? crederem, nisi eius augurio rex Hostilius maxima bella gessisset. Sed neglegentia nobilitatis augurii disciplina omissa veritas auspiciorum spreta est, species tantum retenta; itaque maximae rei publicae partes, in is bella quibus rei publicae salus continetur, nullis auspiciis administrantur, nulla peremnia servantur, nulla ex acuminibus, nulli viri vocantur ex quo in procinctu testamenta perierunt; tum enim bella gerere nostri duces incipiunt, cum auspicia posuerunt.”

[2.10]
“at vero apud maiores tanta religionis vis fuit, ut quidam imperatores etiam se ipsos dis inmortalibus capite velato verbis certis pro re publica devoverent. Multa ex Sibyllinis vaticinationibus, multa ex haruspicum responsis commemorare possum quibus ea confirmentur quae dubia nemini debent esse. Atqui et nostrorum augurum et Etruscorum haruspicum disciplinam P. Scipione C. Figulo consulibus res ipsa probavit. quos cum Ti. Gracchus consul iterum crearet, primus rogator, ut eos rettulit, ibidem est repente mortuus. Gracchus cum comitia nihilo minus peregisset remque illam in religionem populo venisse sentiret, ad senatum rettulit. senatus quos ad soleret referendum censuit. haruspices introducti responderunt non fuisse iustum comitiorum rogatorem. tum Gracchus, ut e patre audiebam, incensus ira:”

[2.11]
““itane vero, ego non iustus, qui et consul rogavi et augur et auspicato? an vos Tusci ac barbari auspiciorum populi Romani ius tenetis et interpretes esse comitiorum potestis?” itaque tum illos exire iussit. post autem e provincia litteras ad collegium misit, se cum legeret libros recordatum esse vitio sibi tabernaculum captum fuisse hortos Scipionis, quod, cum pomerium postea intrasset habendi senatus causa, in redeundo cum idem pomerium transiret auspicari esset oblitus; itaque vitio creatos consules esse. augures rem ad senatum; senatus ut abdicarent consules; abdicaverunt. quae quaerimus exempla maiora: vir sapientissimus atque haud sciam an omnium praestantissimus peccatum suum, quod celari posset, confiteri maluit quam haerere in re publica religionem, consules summum imperium statim deponere quam id tenere punctum temporis contra religionem.”

[2.12]
“magna augurum auctoritas; quid haruspicum ars nonne divina? Haec <et> innumerabilia ex eodem genere qui videat nonne cogatur confiteri deos esse? quorum enim interpretes sunt, eos ipsos esse certe necesse est; deorum autem interpretes sunt; deos igitur esse fateamur. At fortasse non omnia eveniunt quae praedicta sunt. ne aegri quidem quia non omnes convalescunt idcirco ars nulla medicina est. signa ostenduntur a dis rerum futurarum; in his si qui erraverunt, non deorum natura sed hominum coniectura peccavit.”

“Itaque inter omnis omnium gentium summa constat; omnibus enim innatum est et in animo quasi insculptum esse deos. quales sint varium est, esse nemo negat.”

[2.13]
“Cleanthes quidem noster quattuor de causis dixit in animis hominum informatas deorum esse notiones. primam posuit eam de qua modo dixi, quae orta esset ex praesensione rerum futurarum; alteram quam ceperimus ex magnitudine commodorum, quae percipiuntur caeli temperatione fecunditate terrarum aliarumque commoditatum complurium copia;”

[2.14]
“tertiam quae terreret animos fulminibus tempestatibus nimbis nivibus grandinibus vastitate pestilentia terrae motibus et saepe fremitibus lapideisque imbribus et guttis imbrium quasi cruentis, tum labibus aut repentinis terrarum hiatibus tum praeter naturam hominum pecudumque portentis, tum facibus visis caelestibus tum stellis is quas Graeci κομήτας nostri cincinnatas vocant, quae nuper bello Octaviano magnarum fuerunt calamitatum praenuntiae, tum sole geminato, quod ut e patre audivi Tuditano et Aquilio consulibus evenerat, quo quidem anno P. Africanus sol alter extinctus est, quibus exterriti homines vim quandam esse caelestem et divinam suspicati sunt;”

[2.15]
“quartam causam esse eamque vel maximam aequabilitatem motus <constantissimamque> conversionem caeli, solis lunae siderumque omnium distinctionem utilitatem pulchritudinem ordinem, quarum rerum aspectus ipse satis indicaret non esse ea fortuita: ut, si quis in domum aliquam aut in gymnasium aut in forum venerit, cum videat omnium rerum rationem modum disciplinam, non possit ea sine causa fieri iudicare, sed esse aliquem intellegat qui praesit et cui pareatur, multo magis in tantis motionibus tantisque vicissitudinibus, tam multarum rerum atque tantarum ordinibus, in quibus nihil umquam inmensa et infinita vetustas mentita sit, statuat necesse est ab aliqua mente tantos naturae motus gubernari.”

[2.16]
“Chrysippus quidem, quamquam est acerrimo ingenio, tamen ea dicit ut ab ipsa natura didicisse, non ut ipse repperisse videatur. “Si enim” inquit “est aliquid in rerum natura quod hominis mens quod ratio quod vis quod potestas humana efficere non possit, est certe id quod illud efficit homine melius; atqui res caelestes omnesque eae quarum est ordo sempiternus ab homine confici non possunt; est igitur id quo illa conficiuntur homine melius. id autem quid potius dixeris quam deum? Etenim si di non sunt, quid esse potest in rerum natura homine melius; in eo enim solo est ratio, qua nihil potest esse praestantius; esse autem hominem qui nihil in omni mundo melius esse quam se putet desipientis adrogantiae est; ergo est aliquid melius. est igitur profecto deus.””

[2.17]
“An vero, si domum magnam pulchramque videris, non possis adduci ut, etiam si dominum non videas, muribus illam et mustelis aedificatam putes—: tantum ergo ornatum mundi, tantam varietatem pulchritudinemque rerum caelestium, tantam vim et magnitudinem maris atque terrarum si tuum ac non deorum inmortalium domicilium putes, nonne plane desipere videare? An ne hoc quidem intellegimus, omnia supera esse meliora, terram autem esse infimam, quam crassissimus circumfundat aer: ut ob eam ipsam causam, quod etiam quibusdam regionibus atque urbibus contingere videmus, hebetiora ut sint hominum ingenia propter caeli pleniorem naturam, hoc idem generi humano evenerit, quod in terra hoc est in crassissima regione mundi conlocati sint.”

[2.18]
“Et tamen ex ipsa hominum sollertia esse aliquam mentem et eam quidem acriorem et divinam existimare debemus. unde enim hanc homo “arripuit”, ut ait apud Xenophontem Socrates. quin et umorem et calorem, qui est fusus in corpore, et terrenam ipsam viscerum soliditatem, animum denique illum spirabilem si quis quaerat unde habeamus, apparet; quorum aliud a terra sumpsimus aliud ab umore aliud ab igni aliud ab aere eo quem spiritum dicimus. illud autem quod vincit haec omnia, rationem dico et, si placet pluribus verbis, mentem consilium cogitationem prudentiam, ubi invenimus unde sustulimus? An cetera mundus habebit omnia, hoc unum quod plurimi est non habebit? atqui certe nihil omnium rerum melius est mundo nihil praestabilius nihil pulchrius, nec solum nihil est sed ne cogitari quidem quicquam melius potest. et si ratione et sapientia nihil est melius, necesse est haec inesse in eo quod optimum esse concedimus.”

[2.19]
“Quid vero tanta rerum consentiens conspirans, continuata cognatio quem non coget ea quae dicuntur a me conprobare? possetne uno tempore florere, dein vicissim horrere terra, aut tot rebus ipsis se inmutantibus solis accessus discessusque solstitiis brumisque cognosci, aut aestus maritimi fretorumque angustiae ortu aut obitu lunae commoveri, aut una totius caeli conversione cursus astrorum dispares conservari? haec ita fieri omnibus inter se concinentibus mundi partibus profecto non possent, nisi ea uno divino et continuato spiritu continerentur.”

[2.20]
“Atque haec cum uberius disputantur et fusius, ut mihi est in animo facere, facilius effugiunt Academicorum calumniam; cum autem, ut Zeno solebat, brevius angustiusque concluduntur, tum apertiora sunt ad reprendendum. nam ut profluens amnis aut vix aut nullo modo, conclusa autem aqua facile conrumpitur, sic orationis flumine reprensoris convicia diluuntur, angustia autem conclusae rationis non facile se ipsa tutatur. Haec enim quae dilatantur a nobis Zeno sic premebat:”

[2.21]
““Quod ratione utitur id melius est quam id quod ratione non utitur; nihil autem mundo melius; ratione igitur mundus utitur”. similiter effici potest sapientem esse mundum, similiter beatum, similiter aeternum; omnia enim haec meliora sunt quam ea quae sunt his carentia, nec mundo quicquam melius. ex quo efficietur esse mundum deum.”

[2.22]
“Idemque hoc modo: “Nullius sensu carentis pars aliqua potest esse sentiens; mundi autem partes sentientes sunt; non igitur caret sensu mundus”. Pergit idem et urguet angustius: “Nihil” inquit “quod animi quodque rationis est expers, id generare ex se potest animantem compotemque rationis; mundus autem generat animantis compotesque rationis; animans est igitur mundus composque rationis”. Idemque similitudine, ut saepe solet, rationem conclusit hoc modo: “Si ex oliva modulate canentes tibiae nascerentur, num dubitares quin inesset in oliva tibicini quaedam scientia? quid si platani fidiculas ferrent numerose sonantes: idem scilicet censeres in platanis inesse musicam. cur igitur mundus non animans sapiensque iudicetur, cum ex se procreet animantis atque sapientis?””

[2.23]
“Sed quoniam coepi secus agere atque initio dixeram (negaram enim hanc primam partem egere oratione, quod esset omnibus perspicuum deos esse), tamen id ipsum rationibus physicis id est naturalibus confirmari volo. Sic enim res se habet, ut omnia quae alantur et quae crescant contineant in se vim caloris, sine qua neque ali possent nec crescere. nam omne quod est calidum et igneum cietur et agitur motu suo; quod autem alitur et crescit motu quodam utitur certo et aequabili; qui quam diu remanet in nobis tam diu sensus et vita remanet, refrigerato autem et extincto calore occidimus ipsi et extinguimur.”

[2.24]
“Quod quidem Cleanthes his etiam argumentis docet, quanta vis insit caloris in omni corpore: negat enim esse ullum cibum tam gravem quin is nocte et die concoquatur; cuius etiam in reliquiis inest calor iis quas natura respuerit. iam vero venae et arteriae micare non desinunt quasi quodam igneo motu, animadversumque saepe est cum cor animantis alicuius evolsum ita mobiliter palpitaret ut imitaretur igneam celeritatem. Omne igitur quod vivit, sive animal sive terra editum, id vivit propter inclusum in eo calorem. ex quo intellegi debet eam caloris naturam vim habere in se vitalem per omnem mundum pertinentem.”

[2.25]
“Atque id facilius cernemus toto genere hoc igneo quod tranat omnia subtilius explicato. Omnes igitur partes mundi (tangam autem maximas) calore fultae sustinentur. Quod primum in terrena natura perspici potest. nam et lapidum conflictu atque tritu elici ignem videmus et recenti fossione terram fumare calentem, atque etiam ex puteis iugibus aquam calidam trahi, et id maxime fieri temporibus hibernis, quod magna vis terrae cavernis contineatur caloris eaque hieme sit densior ob eamque causam calorem insitum in terris contineat artius.”

[2.26]
“longa est oratio multaeque rationes, quibus doceri possit omnia quae terra concipiat semina quaeque ipsa ex se generata stirpibus infixa contineat ea temperatione caloris et oriri et augescere. Atque aquae etiam admixtum esse calorem primum ipse liquor aquae declarat et fusio, quae neque conglaciaret frigoribus neque nive pruinaque concresceret, nisi eadem se admixto calore liquefacta et dilapsa diffunderet; itaque et aquilonibus reliquisque frigoribus adiectis durescit umor, et idem vicissim mollitur tepefactus et tabescit calore. atque etiam maria agitata ventis ita tepescunt ut intellegi facile possit in tantis illis umoribus esse inclusum calorem; nec enim ille externus et adventicius habendus est tepor, sed ex intumis maris partibus agitatione excitatus, quod nostris quoque corporibus contingit cum motu atque exercitatione recalescunt. Ipse vero aer, qui natura est maxime frigidus, minime est expers caloris;”

[2.27]
“ille vero et multo quidem calore admixtus est: ipse enim oritur ex respiratione aquarum; earum enim quasi vapor quidam aer habendus est, is autem existit motu eius caloris qui aquis continetur, quam similitudinem cernere possumus in his aquis quae effervescunt subiectis ignibus. Iam vero reliqua quarta pars mundi: ea et ipsa tota natura fervida est et ceteris naturis omnibus salutarem inpertit et vitalem calorem.”

[2.28]
“Ex quo concluditur, cum omnes mundi partes sustineantur calore, mundum etiam ipsum simili parique natura in tanta diuturnitate servari, eoque magis quod intellegi debet calidum illud atque igneum ita in omni fusum esse natura, ut in eo insit procreandi vis et causa gignendi, a quo et animantia omnia et ea quorum stirpes terra continentur et nasci sit necesse et augescere.”

[2.29]
“Natura est igitur quae contineat mundum omnem eumque tueatur, et ea quidem non sine sensu atque ratione. Omnem enim naturam necesse est, quae non solitaria sit neque simplex sed cum alio iuncta atque conexa, habere aliquem in se principatum, ut in homine mentem, in belua quiddam simile mentis unde oriantur rerum adpetitus; in arborum autem et earum rerum quae gignuntur e terra radicibus inesse principatus putatur. principatum autem id dico quod Graeci ἡγεμονικὸν vocant, quo nihil in quoque genere nec potest nec debet esse praestantius. ita necesse est illud etiam in quo sit totius naturae principatus esse omnium optumum omniumque rerum potestate dominatuque dignissimum.”

[2.30]
“videmus autem in partibus mundi (nihil est enim in omni mundo quod non pars universi sit) inesse sensum atque rationem. in ea parte igitur, in qua mundi inest principatus, haec inesse necessest, et acriora quidem atque maiora. quocirca sapientem esse mundum necesse est, naturamque eam quae res omnes conplexa teneat perfectione rationis excellere, eoque deum esse mundum omnemque vim mundi natura divina contineri.”

“Atque etiam mundi ille fervor purior perlucidior mobiliorque multo ob easque causas aptior ad sensus commovendos quam hic noster calor, quo haec quae nota nobis sunt retinentur et vigent.”

[2.31]
“absurdum igitur est dicere, cum homines bestiaeque hoc calore teneantur et propterea moveantur ac sentiant, mundum esse sine sensu, qui integro et libero et puro eodemque acerrimo et mobilissimo ardore teneatur, praesertim cum is ardor qui est mundi non agitatus ab alio neque externo pulsu sed per se ipse ac sua sponte moveatur; nam quid potest esse mundo valentius, quod pellat atque moveat calorem eum quo ille teneatur.”

[2.32]
“Audiamus enim Platonem quasi quendam deum philosophorum; cui duo placet esse motus, unum suum alterum externum, esse autem divinius quod ipsum ex se sua sponte moveatur quam quod pulsu agitetur alieno. hunc autem motum in solis animis esse ponit, ab isque principium motus esse ductum putat. quapropter quoniam ex mundi ardore motus omnis oritur, is autem ardor non alieno inpulsu sed sua sponte movetur, animus sit necesse est; ex quo efficitur animantem esse mundum.”

“Atque ex hoc quoque intellegi poterit in eo inesse intellegentiam, quod certe est mundus melior quam ulla natura. ut enim nulla pars est corporis nostri quae non minoris sit quam nosmet ipsi sumus, sic mundum universum pluris esse necesse est quam partem aliquam universi. quod si ita est, sapiens sit mundus necesse est. nam ni ita esset, hominem qui esset mundi pars, quoniam rationis esset particeps, pluris esse quam mundum omnem oporteret.”

[2.33]
“Atque etiam si a primis incohatisque naturis ad ultimas perfectasque volumus procedere, ad deorum naturam perveniamus necesse est. Prima enim animadvertimus a natura sustineri ea quae gignantur e terra, quibus natura nihil tribuit amplius quam ut ea alendo atque augendo tueretur.”

[2.34]
“bestiis autem sensum et motum dedit et cum quodam adpetitu accessum ad res salutares a pestiferis recessum. hoc homini amplius, quod addidit rationem, qua regerentur animi adpetitus, qui tum remitterentur tum continerentur. quartus autem est gradus et altissimus eorum qui natura boni sapientesque gignuntur, quibus a principio innascitur ratio recta constansque, quae supra hominem putanda est deoque tribuenda id est mundo, in quo necesse est perfectam illam atque absolutam inesse rationem.”

[2.35]
“Neque enim dici potest in ulla rerum institutione non esse aliquid extremum atque perfectum. ut enim in vite ut in pecude, nisi quae vis obstitit, videmus naturam suo quodam itinere ad ultimum pervenire, atque ut pictura et fabrica ceteraeque artes habent quendam absoluti operis effectum, sic in omni natura ac multo etiam magis necesse est absolvi aliquid ac perfici. etenim ceteris naturis multa externa quo minus perficiantur possunt obsistere, universam autem naturam nulla res potest impedire propterea quod omnis naturas ipsa cohibet et continet. Quocirca necesse est esse quartum illum et altissimum gradum quo nulla vis possit accedere.”

[2.36]
“is autem est gradus in quo rerum omnium natura ponitur; quae quoniam talis est ut et praesit omnibus et eam nulla res possit inpedire, necesse est intellegentem esse mundum et quidem etiam sapientem.”

“Quid autem est inscitius quam eam naturam quae omnis res sit conplexa non optumam dici, aut, cum sit optuma, non primum animantem esse, deinde rationis et consilii compotem, postremo sapientem. qui enim potest aliter esse optima? neque enim si stirpium similis sit aut etiam bestiarum, optuma putanda sit potius quam deterruma. Nec vero, si rationis particeps sit nec sit tamen a principio sapiens, non sit deterior mundi potius quam humana condicio. homo enim sapiens fieri potest, mundus autem, si in aeterno praeteriti temporis spatio fuit insipiens, numquam profecto sapientiam consequetur; ita erit homine deterior. quod quoniam absurdum est, et sapiens a principio mundus et deus habendus est.”

[2.37]
“Neque enim est quicquam aliud praeter mundum quoi nihil absit quodque undique aptum atque perfectum expletumque sit omnibus suis numeris et partibus. Scite enim Chrysippus, ut clipei causa involucrum vaginam autem gladii, sic praeter mundum cetera omnia aliorum causa esse generata, ut eas fruges atque fructus quos terra gignit animantium causa, animantes autem hominum, ut ecum vehendi causa arandi bovem venandi et custodiendi canem; ipse autem homo ortus est ad mundum contemplandum et imitandum—nullo modo perfectus sed est quaedam particula perfecti.”

[2.38]
“sed mundus quoniam omnia conplexus est neque est quicquam quod non insit in eo, perfectus undique est; qui igitur potest ei desse id quod est optimum? nihil autem est mente et ratione melius; ergo haec mundo deesse non possunt. Bene igitur idem Chrysippus, qui similitudines adiungens omnia in perfectis et maturis docet esse meliora, ut in equo quam in eculeo in cane quam in catulo in viro quam in puero; item quod in omni mundo optimum sit id in perfecto aliquo atque absoluto esse debere;”

[2.39]
“est autem nihil mundo perfectius nihil virtute melius; igitur mundi est propria virtus. Nec vero hominis natura perfecta est, et efficitur tamen in homine virtus; quanto igitur in mundo facilius; est ergo in eo virtus. sapiens est igitur et propterea deus.”

“Atque hac mundi divinitate perspecta tribuenda est sideribus eadem divinitas; quae ex mobilissima purissimaque aetheris parte gignuntur neque ulla praeterea sunt admixta natura totaque sunt calida atque perlucida, ut ea quoque rectissime et animantia esse et sentire atque intellegere dicantur.”

[2.40]
“Atque ea quidem tota esse ignea duorum sensuum testimonio confirmari Cleanthes putat, tactus et oculorum. nam solis calor et candor inlustrior est quam ullius ignis, quippe qui inmenso mundo tam longe lateque conluceat, et is eius tactus est, non ut tepefaciat solum sed etiam saepe comburat, quorum neutrum faceret nisi esset igneus. “ergo” inquit “cum sol igneus sit Oceanique alatur umoribus” (quia nullus ignis sine pastu aliquo possit permanere) “necesse est aut ei similis sit igni quem adhibemus ad usum atque victum, aut ei qui corporibus animantium continetur.””

[2.41]
““atqui hic noster ignis, quem usus vitae requirit, confector est et consumptor omnium idemque quocumque invasit cuncta disturbat ac dissipat; contra ille corporeus vitalis et salutaris omnia conservat alit auget sustinet sensuque adficit.” negat ergo esse dubium horum ignium sol utri similis sit, cum is quoque efficiat ut omnia floreant et in suo quaeque genere pubescant. quare cum solis ignis similis eorum ignium sit qui sunt in corporibus animantium, solem quoque animantem esse oportet, et quidem reliqua astra quae oriantur in ardore caelesti qui aether vel caelum nominatur.”

[2.42]
“Cum igitur aliorum animantium ortus in terra sit aliorum in aqua in aere aliorum, absurdum esse Aristoteli videtur in ea parte quae sit ad gignenda animantia aptissima animal gigni nullum putare. sidera autem aetherium locum optinent; qui quoniam tenuissimus est et semper agitatur et viget, necesse est quod animal in eo gignatur id et sensu acerrumo et mobilitate celerrima esse. quare cum in aethere astra gignantur, consentaneum est in his sensum inesse et intellegentiam, ex quo efficitur in deorum numero astra esse ducenda. Etenim licet videre acutiora ingenia et ad intellegendum aptiora eorum qui terras incolant eas in quibus aer sit purus ac tenuis quam illorum qui utantur crasso caelo atque concreto.”

[2.43]
“quin etiam cibo quo utare interesse aliquid ad mentis aciem putant. probabile est igitur praestantem intellegentiam in sideribus esse, quae et aetheriam partem mundi incolant et marinis terrenisque umoribus longo intervallo extenuatis alantur. Sensum autem astrorum atque intellegentiam maxume declarat ordo eorum atque constantia (nihil est enim quod ratione et numero moveri possit sine consilio), in quo nihil est temerarium nihil varium nihil fortuitum. ordo autem siderum et in omni aeternitate constantia neque naturam significat (est enim plena rationis) neque fortunam, quae amica varietati constantiam respuit. sequitur ergo ut ipsa sua sponte suo sensu ac divinitate moveantur.”

[2.44]
“Nec vero Aristoteles non laudandus in eo quod omnia quae moventur aut natura moveri censuit aut vi aut voluntate; moveri autem solem et lunam et sidera omnia; quae autem natura moverentur, haec aut pondere deorsum aut levitate in sublime ferri, quorum neutrum astris contingeret propterea quod eorum motus in orbem circumque ferretur; nec vero dici potest vi quadam maiore fieri ut contra naturam astra moveantur (quae enim potest maior esse?); restat igitur ut motus astrorum sit voluntarius.”

“Quae qui videat non indocte solum verum etiam impie faciat si deos esse neget. nec sane multum interest utrum id neget an eos omni procuratione atque actione privet; mihi enim qui nihil agit esse omnino non videtur. esse igitur deos ita perspicuum est, ut id qui neget vix eum sanae mentis existimem.”

[2.45]
“Restat ut qualis eorum natura sit consideremus; in quo nihil est difficilius quam a consuetudine oculorum aciem mentis abducere ea difficultas induxit et vulgo imperitos et similes philosophos imperitorum, ut nisi figuris hominum constitutis nihil possent de dis inmortalibus cogitare; cuius opinionis levitas confutata a Cotta non desiderat orationem meam. Sed cum talem esse deum certa notione animi praesentiamus, primum ut sit animans, deinde ut in omni natura nihil eo sit praestantius, ad hanc praesensionem notionemque nostram nihil video quod potius accommodem quam ut primum hunc ipsum mundum, quo nihil excellentius fieri potest, animantem esse et deum iudicem.”

[2.46]
“Hic quam volet Epicurus iocetur, homo non aptissimus ad iocandum minimeque resipiens patriam, et dicat se non posse intellegere qualis sit volubilis et rutundus deus, tamen ex hoc, quod etiam ipse probat, numquam me movebit. Placet enim illi esse deos, quia necesse sit praestantem esse aliquam naturam qua nihil sit melius. mundo autem certe nihil est melius; nec dubium quin quod animans sit habeatque sensum et rationem et mentem id sit melius quam id quod is careat.”

[2.47]
“ita efficitur animantem, sensus mentis rationis mundum esse compotem; qua ratione deum esse mundum concluditur. Sed haec paulo post facilius cognoscentur ex is rebus ipsis quas mundus efficit. interea Vellei noli quaeso prae te ferre vos plane expertes esse doctrinae. conum tibi ais et cylindrum et pyramidem pulchriorem quam sphaeram videri. novum etiam oculorum iudicium habetis. sed sint ista pulchriora dumtaxat aspectu—quod mihi tamen ipsum non videtur; quid enim pulchrius ea figura quae sola omnis alias figuras complexa continet, quaeque nihil asperitatis habere nihil offensionis potest, nihil incisum angulis nihil anfractibus, nihil eminens nihil lacunosum; cumque duae formae praestantissimae sint, ex solidis globus (sic enim σφαῖραν interpretari placet), ex planis autem circulus aut orbis, qui κύκλος Graece dicitur, his duabus formis contingit solis ut omnes earum partes sint inter se simillumae a medioque tantum absit extremum,”

[2.48]
“quo nihil fieri potest aptius—sed si haec non videtis, quia numquam eruditum illum pulverem attigistis, ne hoc quidem physici intellegere potuistis, hanc aequabilitatem motus constantiamque ordinum in alia figura non potuisse servari? Itaque nihil potest indoctius quam quod a vobis adfirmari solet. nec enim hunc ipsum mundum pro certo rutundum esse dicitis, nam posse fieri ut sit alia figura, innumerabilesque mundos alios aliarum esse formarum.”

[2.49]
“quae si bis bina quot essent didicisset Epicurus certe non diceret; sed dum palato quid sit optimum iudicat, “caeli palatum”, ut ait Ennius, non suspexit.”

“Nam cum duo sint genera siderum, quorum alterum spatiis inmutabilibus ab ortu ad occasum commeans nullum umquam cursus sui vestigium inflectat, alterum autem continuas conversiones duas isdem spatiis cursibusque conficiat, ex utraque re et mundi volubilitas, quae nisi in globosa forma esse non posset, et stellarum rutundi ambitus cognoscuntur.”

“Primusque sol, qui astrorum tenet principatum, ita movetur ut, cum terras larga luce compleverit, easdem modo his modo illis ex partibus opacet; ipsa enim umbra terrae soli officiens noctem efficit. nocturnorum autem spatiorum eadem est aequabilitas quae diurnorum. eiusdemque solis tum accessus modici tum recessus et frigoris et caloris modum temperant. circumitus enim solis orbium quinque et sexaginta et trecentorum quarta fere diei parte addita conversionem conficiunt annuam; inflectens autem sol cursum tum ad septem triones tum ad meridiem aestates et hiemes efficit et ea duo tempora quorum alterum hiemi senescenti adiunctum est alterum aestati: ita ex quattuor temporum mutationibus omnium quae terra marique gignuntur initia causaeque ducuntur.”

[2.50]
“Iam solis annuos cursus spatiis menstruis luna consequitur, cuius tenuissimum lumen facit proximus accessus ad solem, digressus autem longissimus quisque plenissimum. neque solum eius species ac forma mutatur tum crescendo tum defectibus in initia recurrendo, sed etiam regio; quae cum est aquilonia aut australis, in lunae quoque cursu est et brumae quaedam et solstitii similitudo, multaque ab ea manant et fluunt quibus et animantes alantur augescantque et pubescant maturitatemque adsequantur quae oriuntur e terra.”

[2.51]
“Maxume vero sunt admirabiles motus earum quinque stellarum quae falso vocantur errantes; nihil enim errat quod in omni aeternitate conservat progressus et regressus reliquosque motus constantis et ratos. quod eo est admirabilius in is stellis quas dicimus, quia tum occultantur tum rursus aperiuntur, tum adeunt tum recedunt, tum antecedunt tum autem subsecuntur, tum celerius moventur tum tardius, tum omnino ne moventur quidem sed ad quoddam tempus insistunt. quarum ex disparibus motionibus magnum annum mathematici nominaverunt, qui tum efficitur cum solis et lunae et quinque errantium ad eandem inter se comparationem confectis omnium spatiis est facta conversio;”

[2.52]
“quae quam longa sit magna quaestio est, esse vero certam et definitam necesse est. Nam ea quae Saturni stella dicitur Φαίνωνque a Graecis nominatur, quae a terra abest plurimum, xxx fere annis cursum suum conficit, in quo cursu multa mirabiliter efficiens tum antecedendo tum retardando, tum vespertinis temporibus delitiscendo tum matutinis rursum se aperiendo nihil inmutat sempiternis saeclorum aetatibus quin eadem isdem temporibus efficiat. Infra autem hanc propius a terra Iovis stella fertur, quae Φαέθων dicitur, eaque eundem duodecim signorum orbem annis duodecim conficit easdemque quas Saturni stella efficit in cursu varietates.”

[2.53]
“Huic autem proximum inferiorem orbem tenet Πυρόεις, quae stella Martis appellatur, eaque quattuor et viginti mensibus sex ut opinor diebus minus eundem lustrat orbem quem duae superiores. Infra hanc autem stella Mercuri est (ea Στίλβων appellatur a Graecis), quae anno fere vertenti signiferum lustrat orbem neque a sole longius umquam unius signi intervallo discedit tum antevertens tum subsequens. Infima est quinque errantium terraeque proxuma stella Veneris, quae Φωσφόρος Graece Lucifer Latine dicitur cum antegreditur solem, cum subsequitur autem Ἕσπερος; ea cursum anno conficit et latitudinem lustrans signiferi orbis et longitudinem, quod idem faciunt stellae superiores, neque umquam ab sole duorum signorum intervallo longius discedit tum antecedens tum subsequens.”

[2.54]
“Hanc igitur in stellis constantiam, hanc tantam tam variis cursibus in omni aeternitate convenientiam temporum non possum intellegere sine mente ratione consilio. quae cum in sideribus inesse videamus, non possumus ea ipsa non in deorum numero reponere.”

“Nec vero eae stellae quae inerrantes vocantur non significant eandem mentem atque prudentiam. quarum est cotidiana conveniens constansque conversio, nec habent aetherios cursus neque caelo inhaerentes, ut plerique dicunt physicae rationis ignari; non est enim aetheris ea natura ut vi sua stellas conplexa contorqueat, nam tenuis ac perlucens et aequabili calore suffusus aether non satis aptus ad stellas continendas videtur;”

[2.55]
“habent igitur suam sphaeram stellae inerrantes ab aetheria coniunctione secretam et liberam. earum autem perennes cursus atque perpetui cum admirabili incredibilique constantia declarant in his vim et mentem esse divinam, ut haec ipsa qui non sentiat deorum vim habere is nihil omnino sensurus esse videatur.”

[2.56]
“Nulla igitur in caelo nec fortuna nec temeritas nec erratio nec vanitas inest contraque omnis ordo veritas ratio constantia, quaeque his vacant ementita et falsa plenaque erroris, ea circum terras infra lunam, quae omnium ultima est, in terrisque versantur. caelestem ergo admirabilem ordinem incredibilemque constantiam, ex qua conservatio et salus omnium omnis oritur, qui vacare mente putat is ipse mentis expers habendus est.”

[2.57]
“Haut ergo ut opinor erravero, si a principe investigandae veritatis huius disputationis principium duxero. Zeno igitur naturam ita definit ut eam dicat ignem esse artificiosum ad gignendum progredientem via. censet enim artis maxume proprium esse creare et gignere, quodque in operibus nostrarum artium manus efficiat id multo artificiosius naturam efficere, id est ut dixi ignem artificiosum magistrum artium reliquarum. Atque hac quidem ratione omnis natura artificiosa est, quod habet quasi viam quandam et sectam quam sequatur.”

[2.58]
“ipsius vero mundi, qui omnia conplexu suo coercet et continet, natura non artificiosa solum sed plane artifex ab eodem Zenone dicitur, consultrix et provida utilitatum oportunitatumque omnium. atque ut ceterae naturae suis seminibus quaeque gignuntur augescunt continentur, sic natura mundi omnis motus habet voluntarios, conatusque et adpetitiones, quas ὁρμὰς Graeci vocant, et is consentaneas actiones sic adhibet ut nosmet ipsi qui animis movemur et sensibus. Talis igitur mens mundi cum sit ob eamque causam vel prudentia vel providentia appellari recte possit (Graece enim πρόνοια dicitur), haec potissimum providet et in is maxime est occupata, primum ut mundus quam aptissimus sit ad permanendum, deinde ut nulla re egeat, maxume autem ut in eo eximia pulchritudo sit atque omnis ornatus.”

[2.59]
“Dictum est de universo mundo, dictum etiam est de sideribus, ut iam prope modum appareat multitudo nec cessantium deorum nec ea quae agant molientium cum labore operoso ac molesto. non enim venis et nervis et ossibus continentur nec his escis aut potionibus vescuntur, ut aut nimis acres aut nimis concretos umores colligant, nec is corporibus sunt ut casus aut ictus extimescant aut morbos metuant ex defetigatione membrorum, quae verens Epicurus monogrammos deos et nihil agentes commentus est.”

[2.60]
“illi autem pulcherruma forma praediti purissimaque in regione caeli collocati ita feruntur moderanturque cursus, ut ad omnia conservanda et tuenda consensisse videantur.”

“Multae autem aliae naturae deorum ex magnis beneficiis eorum non sine causa et a Graeciae sapientissimis et a maioribus nostris constitutae nominataeque sunt. quicquid enim magnam utilitatem generi adferret humano, id non sine divina bonitate erga homines fieri arbitrabantur. itaque tum illud quod erat a deo natum nomine ipsius dei nuncupabant, ut cum fruges Cererem appellamus vinum autem Liberum, ex quo illud Te-”

[2.61]
“renti “sine Cerere et Libero friget Venus”, tum autem res ipsa, in qua vis inest maior aliqua, sic appellatur ut ea ipsa vis nominetur deus, ut Fides ut Mens, quas in Capitolio dedicatas videmus proxume a M. Aemilio Scauro, ante autem ab <A.> Atilio Calatino erat Fides consecrata. vides Virtutis templum vides Honoris a M. Marcello renovatum, quod multis ante annis erat bello Ligustico a Q. Maxumo dedicatum. quid Opis quid Salutis quid Concordiae Libertatis Victoriae; quarum omnium rerum quia vis erat tanta ut sine deo regi non posset, ipsa res deorum nomen optinuit. quo ex genere Cupidinis et Voluptatis et Lubentinae Veneris vocabula consecrata sunt, vitiosarum rerum neque naturalium—quamquam Velleius aliter existimat, sed tamen ea ipsa vitia naturam vehementius saepe pulsant.”

[2.62]
“Utilitatum igitur magnitudine constituti sunt ei di qui utilitates quasque gignebant, atque is quidem nominibus quae paulo ante dicta sunt quae vis sit in quoque declaratur deo.”

“Suscepit autem vita hominum consuetudoque communis ut beneficiis excellentis viros in caelum fama ac voluntate tollerent. hinc Hercules hinc Castor et Pollux hinc Aesculapius hinc Liber etiam (hunc dico Liberum Semela natum, non eum quem nostri maiores auguste sancteque Liberum cum Cerere et Libera consecraverunt, quod quale sit ex mysteriis intellegi potest; sed quod ex nobis natos liberos appellamus, idcirco Cerere nati nominati sunt Liber et Libera, quod in Libera servant, in Libero non item)—hinc etiam Romulum, quem quidam eundem esse Quirinum putant. quorum cum remanerent animi atque aeternitate fruerentur, rite di sunt habiti, cum et optimi essent et aeterni.”

[2.63]
“Alia quoque ex ratione et quidem physica magna fluxit multitudo deorum, qui induti specie humana fabulas poetis suppeditaverunt, hominum autem vitam superstitione omni referserunt. atque hic locus a Zenone tractatus post a Cleanthe et Chrysippo pluribus verbis explicatus est. Nam vetus haec opinio Graeciam opplevit, esse exsectum Caelum a filio Saturno, vinctum autem Saturnum ipsum a filio Iove:”

[2.64]
“physica ratio non inelegans inclusa est in impias fabulas. caelestem enim altissimam aetheriamque naturam id est igneam, quae per sese omnia gigneret, vacare voluerunt ea parte corporis quae coniunctione alterius egeret ad procreandum. Saturnum autem eum esse voluerunt qui cursum et conversionem spatiorum ac temporum contineret. qui deus Graece id ipsum nomen habet: Κρόνος enim dicitur, qui est idem χρόνος id est spatium temporis. Saturnus autem est appellatus quod saturaretur annis; ex se enim natos comesse fingitur solitus, quia consumit aetas temporum spatia annisque praeteritis insaturabiliter expletur. vinctus autem a Iove, ne inmoderatos cursus haberet, atque ut eum siderum vinclis alligaret. sed ipse Iuppiter, id est iuvans pater, quem conversis casibus appellamus a iuvando Iovem, a poetis “pater divomque hominumque” dicitur, a maioribus autem nostris optumus maxumus, et quidem ante optimus id est beneficentissimus quam maximus, quia maius est certeque gratius prodesse omnibus quam opes mag-”

[2.65]
“nas habere—hunc igitur Ennius, ut supra dixi, nuncupat ita dicens “aspice hoc sublime candens, quem invocant omnes Iovem” planius quam alio loco idem “cui quod in me est exsecrabor hoc quod lucet quicquid est”; hunc etiam augures nostri cum dicunt “Iove fulgente tonante”: dicunt enim “caelo fulgente et tonante”. Euripides autem ut multa praeclare sic hoc breviter:
vides sublime fusum immoderatum aethera,

qui terram tenero circumiectu amplectitur:

hunc summum habeto divum, hunc perhibeto Iovem.”

[2.66]
“Aer autem, ut Stoici disputant, interiectus inter mare et caelum Iunonis nomine consecratur, quae est soror et coniux Iovis, quod <ei> et similitudo est aetheris et cum eo summa coniunctio. effeminarunt autem eum Iunonique tribuerunt, quod nihil est eo mollius. sed Iunonem a iuvando credo nominatam. Aqua restabat et terra, ut essent ex fabulis tria regna divisa. datum est igitur Neptuno alterum, Iovis ut volumus fratri, maritimum omne regnum, nomenque productum ut Portunus a porta sic Neptunus a nando, paulum primis litteris immutatis. Terrena autem vis omnis atque natura Diti patri dedicata est, qui dives ut apud Graecos Πλού- των, quia et recidunt omnia in terras et oriuntur e terris. †Cui Proserpinam (quod Graecorum nomen est, ea enim est quae Περσεφόνη Graece nominatur)—quam frugum semen esse volunt absconditamque quaeri a matre fingunt.”

[2.67]
“Mater autem est a gerendis frugibus Ceres tamquam geres, casuque prima littera itidem immutata ut a Graecis; nam ab illis quoque Δημήτηρ quasi γῆ μήτηρ nominata est. Iam qui magna verteret Mavors, Minerva autem quae vel minueret vel minaretur. Cumque in omnibus rebus vim haberent maxumam prima et extrema, principem in sacrificando Ianum esse voluerunt, quod ab eundo nomen est ductum, ex quo transitiones perviae iani foresque in liminibus profanarum aedium ianuae nominantur. Nam Vestae nomen a Graecis (ea est enim quae ab illis Ἑστία dicitur); vis autem eius ad aras et focos pertinet, itaque in ea dea, quod est rerum custos intumarum, omnis et precatio et sacrificatio extrema est.”

[2.68]
“Nec longe absunt ab hac vi di Penates, sive a penu ducto nomine (est enim omne quo vescuntur homines penus) sive ab eo quod penitus insident; ex quo etiam penetrales a poetis vocantur. Iam Apollinis nomen est Graecum. quem solem esse volunt, Dianam autem et lunam eandem esse putant, cum sol dictus sit vel quia solus ex omnibus sideribus est tantus vel quia cum est exortus obscuratis omnibus solus apparet, luna a lucendo nominata sit; eadem est enim Lucina, itaque ut apud Graecos Dianam eamque Luciferam sic apud nostros Iunonem Lucinam in pariendo invocant. quae eadem Diana Omnivaga dicitur non a venando sed quod in septem numeratur tamquam vagantibus;”

[2.69]
“Diana dicta quia noctu quasi diem efficeret. adhibetur autem ad partus, quod i maturescunt aut septem non numquam aut ut plerumque novem lunae cursibus, qui quia mensa spatia conficiunt menses nominantur; concinneque ut multa Timaeus, qui cum in historia dixisset qua nocte natus Alexander esset eadem Dianae Ephesiae templum deflagravisse, adiunxit minime id esse mirandum, quod Diana quom in partu Olympiadis adesse voluisset afuisset domo. Quae autem dea ad res omnes veniret Venerem nostri nominaverunt, atque ex ea potius venustas quam Venus ex venustate.”

[2.70]
“Videtisne igitur ut a physicis rebus bene atque utiliter inventis tracta ratio sit ad commenticios et fictos deos. Quae res genuit falsas opiniones erroresque turbulentos et superstitiones paene aniles. et formae enim nobis deorum et aetates et vestitus ornatusque noti sunt, genera praeterea coniugia cognationes, omniaque traducta ad similitudinem inbecillitatis humanae. nam et perturbatis animis inducuntur: accepimus enim deorum cupiditates aegritudines iracundias; nec vero, ut fabulae ferunt, bellis proeliisque caruerunt, nec solum ut apud Homerum cum duo exercitus contrarios alii dei ex alia parte defenderent, sed etiam ut cum Titanis ut cum Gigantibus sua propria bella gesserunt. haec et dicuntur et creduntur stultissime et plena sunt futtilitatis summaeque levitatis.”

[2.71]
“Sed tamen is fabulis spretis ac repudiatis deus pertinens per naturam cuiusque rei, per terras Ceres per maria Neptunus alii per alia, poterunt intellegi qui qualesque sint quoque eos nomine consuetudo nuncupaverit. Quos deos et venerari et colere debemus. cultus autem deorum est optumus idemque castissimus atque sanctissimus plenissimusque pietatis, ut eos semper pura integra incorrupta et mente et voce veneremur. non enim philosophi solum verum etiam maiores nostri superstitionem a religione separaverunt.”

[2.72]
“nam qui totos dies precabantur et immolabant, ut sibi sui liberi superstites essent, superstitiosi sunt appellati, quod nomen patuit postea latius; qui autem omnia quae ad cultum deorum pertinerent diligenter retractarent et tamquam relegerent, <i> sunt dicti religiosi ex relegendo, <tamquam> elegantes ex eligendo, [tamquam] <ex> diligendo diligentes, ex intellegendo intellegentes; his enim in verbis omnibus inest vis legendi eadem quae in religioso. ita factum est in superstitioso et religioso alterum vitii nomen alterum laudis. Ac mihi videor satis et esse deos et quales essent ostendisse.”

[2.73]
“Proximum est ut doceam deorum providentia mundum administrari. magnus sane locus est et a vestris Cotta vexatus, ac nimirum vobiscum omne certamen est. Nam vobis Vellei minus notum est quem ad modum quidque dicatur; vestra enim solum legitis vestra amatis, ceteros causa incognita condemnatis. velut a te ipso hesterno die dictumst anum fatidicam Pronoean a Stoicis induci id est Providentiam. quod eo errore dixisti, quia existumas ab is providentiam fingi quasi quandam deam singularem, quae mundum omnem gubernet et regat.”

[2.74]
“sed id praecise dicitur: ut, si quis dicat Atheniensium rem publicam consilio regi, desit illud “Arii pagi”, sic, cum dicimus providentia mundum administrari, deesse arbitrato “deorum”, plene autem et perfecte sic dici existumato, providentia deorum mundum administrari. Ita salem istum, quo caret vestra natio, in inridendis nobis nolitote consumere, et mercule si me audiatis ne experiamini quidem; non decet non datum est non potestis. nec vero hoc in te unum convenit moribus domesticis ac nostrorum hominum urbanitate limatum, sed cum in reliquos vestros tum in eum maxime qui ista peperit, hominem sine arte sine litteris, insultantem in omnes, sine acumine ullo sine auctoritate sine lepore.”

[2.75]
“Dico igitur providentia deorum mundum et omnes mundi partes et initio constitutas esse et omni tempore administrari. Eamque disputationem tris in partes nostri fere dividunt. quarum prima pars est quae ducitur ab ea ratione quae docet esse deos; quo concesso confitendum est eorum consilio mundum administrari. secunda est autem quae docet omnes res subiectas esse naturae sentienti ab eaque omnia pulcherrume geri; quo constituto sequitur ab animantibus principiis eam esse generatam. tertius est locus qui ducitur ex admiratione rerum caelestium atque terrestrium.”

[2.76]
“Primum igitur aut negandum est esse deos, quod et Democritus simulacra et Epicurus imagines inducens quodam pacto negat, aut qui deos esse concedant is fatendum est eos aliquid agere idque praeclarum; nihil est autem praeclarius mundi administratione; deorum igitur consilio administratur. Quod si aliter est, aliquid profecto sit necesse est melius et maiore vi praeditum quam deus, quale id cumque est, sive inanima natura sive necessitas vi magna incitata haec pulcherrima opera efficiens quae videmus;”

[2.77]
“non est igitur natura deorum praepotens neque excellens, si quidem ea subiecta est ei vel necessitati vel naturae, qua caelum maria terrae regantur. nihil est autem praestantius deo; ab eo igitur mundum necesse est regi; nulli igitur est naturae oboediens aut subiectus deus; omnem ergo regit ipse naturam. Etenim si concedimus intellegentes esse deos, concedimus etiam providentes et rerum quidem maxumarum. ergo utrum ignorant quae res maxumae sint quoque eae modo tractandae et tuendae, an vim non habent qua tantas res sustineant et gerant? at et ignoratio rerum aliena naturae deorum est, et sustinendi muneris propter inbecillitatem difficultas minime cadit in maiestatem deorum. ex quo efficitur id quod volumus, deorum providentia mundum administrari.”

[2.78]
“Atqui necesse est cum sint di (si modo sunt, ut profecto sunt) animantis esse, nec solum animantes sed etiam rationis compotes inter seque quasi civili conciliatione et societate coniunctos, unum mundum ut communem rem publicam atque urbem aliquam regentis.”

[2.79]
“sequitur ut eadem sit in is quae humano in genere ratio, eadem veritas utrobique sit eademque lex, quae est recti praeceptio pravique depulsio. ex quo intellegitur prudentiam quoque et mentem a deis ad homines pervenisse (ob eamque causam maiorum institutis Mens Fides Virtus Concordia consecratae et publice dedicatae sunt; quae qui convenit penes deos esse negare, cum eorum augusta et sancta simulacra veneremur: quod si inest in hominum genere mens fides virtus concordia, unde haec in terram nisi ab superis defluere potuerunt?), cumque sint in nobis consilium ratio prudentia, necesse est deos haec ipsa habere maiora, nec habere solum sed etiam his uti in maxumis et optumis rebus.”

[2.80]
“nihil autem nec maius nec melius mundo; necesse est ergo eum deorum consilio et providentia administrari. Postremo cum satis docuerimus hos esse deos, quorum insignem vim et inlustrem faciem videremus, solem dico et lunam et vagas stellas et inerrantes et caelum et mundum ipsum et earum rerum vim quae inessent in omni mundo cum magno usu et commoditate generis humani, efficitur omnia regi divina mente atque prudentia. Ac de prima quidem parte satis dictum est.”

[2.81]
“Sequitur ut doceam omnia subiecta esse naturae, eaque ab ea pulcherrime geri. Sed quid sit ipsa natura explicandum est ante breviter, quo facilius id quod docere volumus intellegi possit. namque alii naturam esse censent vim quandam sine ratione cientem motus in corporibus necessarios, alii autem vim participem rationis atque ordinis tamquam via progredientem declarantemque quid cuiusque rei causa efficiat quid sequatur, cuius sollertiam nulla ars nulla manus nemo opifex consequi possit imitando; seminis enim vim esse tantam, ut id, quamquam sit perexiguum, tamen, si inciderit in concipientem conprendentemque naturam nanctumque sit materiam qua ali augerique possit, ita fingat et efficiat in suo quidque genere, partim ut tantum modo per stirpes alantur suas, partim ut moveri etiam et sentire et appetere possint et ex sese similia sui gignere.”

[2.82]
“Sunt autem qui omnia naturae nomine appellent, ut Epicurus qui ita dividit, omnium quae sint naturam esse corpora et inane quaeque is accidant. Sed nos cum dicimus natura constare administrarique mundum, non ita dicimus ut glaebam aut fragmentum lapidis aut aliquid eius modi nulla cohaerendi natura, sed ut arborem ut animal, in quibus nulla temeritas sed ordo apparet et artis quaedam similitudo.”

[2.83]
“Quod si ea quae a terra stirpibus continentur arte naturae vivunt et vigent, profecto ipsa terra eadem vi continetur arte naturae, quippe quae gravidata seminibus omnia pariat et fundat ex sese, stirpes amplexa alat et augeat ipsaque alatur vicissim a superis externisque naturis; eiusdemque exspirationibus et aer alitur et aether et omnia supera. Ita si terra natura tenetur et viget, eadem ratio in reliquo mundo est; stirpes enim terrae inhaerent, animantes autem adspiratione aeris sustinentur; ipseque aer nobiscum videt nobiscum audit nobiscum sonat, nihil enim eorum sine eo fieri potest; quin etiam movetur nobiscum, quacumque enim imus qua movemur videtur quasi locum dare et cedere.”

[2.84]
“quaeque in medium locum mundi, qui est infimus, et quae a medio in superum quaeque conversione rutunda circum medium feruntur, ea continentem mundi efficiunt unamque naturam. Et cum quattuor genera sint corporum, vicissitudine eorum mundi continuata natura est. nam ex terra aqua ex aqua oritur aer ex aere aether, deinde retrorsum vicissim ex aethere aer inde aqua ex aqua terra infima. sic naturis is ex quibus omnia constant sursus deorsus ultro citro commeantibus mundi partium coniunctio continetur.”

[2.85]
“Quae aut sempiterna sit necessest hoc eodem ornatu quem videmus, aut certe perdiuturna, permanens ad longinquum et inmensum paene tempus. quorum utrumvis ut sit, sequitur natura mundum administrari. Quae enim classium navigatio aut quae instructio exercitus aut, rursus ut ea quae natura efficit conferamus, quae procreatio vitis aut arboris, quae porro animantis figura conformatioque membrorum tantam naturae sollertiam significat quantam ipse mundus? aut igitur nihil est quod sentiente natura regatur, aut mundum regi confitendum est.”

[2.86]
“Etenim qui reliquas naturas omnes earumque semina contineat, qui potest ipse non natura administrari; ut, si qui dentes et pubertatem natura dicat existere, ipsum autem hominem cui ea existant non constare natura, non intellegat ea quae ecferant aliquid ex sese perfectiores habere naturas quam ea quae ex his efferantur. omnium autem rerum quae natura administrantur seminator et sator et parens ut ita dicam atque educator et altor est mundus omniaque sicut membra et partes suas nutricatur et continet. quod si mundi partes natura administrantur, necesse est mundum ipsum natura administrari. Cuius quidem administratio nihil habet in se quod reprehendi possit; ex his enim naturis quae erant quod effici optimum potuit effectum est.”

[2.87]
“doceat ergo aliquis potuisse melius; sed nemo umquam docebit, et si quis corrigere aliquid volet aut deterius faciet aut id quod fieri <non> potuerit desiderabit.”

“Quod si omnes mundi partes ita constitutae sunt ut neque ad usum meliores potuerint esse neque ad speciem pulchriores, videamus utrum ea fortuitane sint an eo statu quo cohaerere nullo modo potuerint nisi sensu moderante divinaque providentia. Si igitur meliora sunt ea quae natura quam illa quae arte perfecta sunt nec ars efficit quicquam sine ratione, ne natura quidem rationis expers est habenda. Qui igitur convenit, signum aut tabulam pictam cum aspexeris, scire adhibitam esse artem, cumque procul cursum navigii videris, non dubitare quin id ratione atque arte moveatur, aut cum solarium vel descriptum vel ex aqua contemplere, intellegere declarari horas arte non casu, mundum autem, qui et has ipsas artes et earum artifices et cuncta conplectatur, consilii et rationis esse expertem putare.”

[2.88]
“quod si in Scythiam aut in Brittanniam sphaeram aliquis tulerit hanc quam nuper familiaris noster effecit Posidonius, cuius singulae conversiones idem efficiunt in sole et in luna et in quinque stellis errantibus quod efficitur in caelo singulis diebus et noctibus, quis in illa barbaria dubitet quin ea sphaera sit perfecta ratione; hi autem dubitant de mundo, ex quo et oriuntur et fiunt omnia, casune ipse sit effectus aut necessitate aliqua an ratione ac mente divina, et Archimedem arbitrantur plus valuisse in imitandis sphaerae conversionibus quam naturam in efficiendis; praesertim cum multis partibus sint illa perfecta quam haec simulata sollertius.”

[2.89]
“utque ille apud Accium pastor, qui navem numquam ante vidisset, ut procul divinum et novum vehiculum Argonautarum e monte conspexit, primo admirans et perterritus hoc modo loquitur:
tanta moles labitur

fremibunda ex alto ingenti sonitu et spiritu:

prae se undas volvit, vertices vi suscitat,

ruit prolapsa, pelagus respergit reflat;

ita dum interruptum credas nimbum volvier,

dum quod sublime ventis expulsum rapi

saxum aut procellis, vel globosos turbines

existere ictos undis concursantibus—

nisi quas terrestres pontus strages conciet

aut forte Triton fuscina evertens specus

subter radices penitus undanti in freto

molem ex profundo saxeam ad caelum eruit:
dubitat primo quae sit ea natura quam cernit ignotam; idemque iuvenibus visis auditoque nautico cantu:
sicut †inciti atque alacres rostris perfremunt delphini
—item alia multa—
Silvani melo

consimilem ad aures cantum et auditum refert
—”

[2.90]
“ergo ut hic primo aspectu inanimum quiddam sensuque vacuum se putat cernere, post autem signis certioribus quale sit id de quo dubitaverat incipit suspicari, sic philosophi debuerunt, si forte eos primus aspectus mundi conturbaverat, postea cum vidissent motus eius finitos et aequabiles omniaque ratis ordinibus moderata inmutabilique constantia, intellegere inesse aliquem non solum habitatorem in hac caelesti ac divina domo sed etiam rectorem et moderatorem et tamquam architectum tanti operis tantique muneris.”

“Nunc autem mihi videntur ne suspicari quidem quanta sit admirabilitas caelestium rerum atque terrestrium.”

[2.91]
“Principio enim terra sita in media parte mundi circumfusa undique est hac animali spirabilique natura cui nomen est aer—Graecum illud quidem sed perceptum iam tamen usu a nostris; tritum est enim pro Latino. hunc rursus amplectitur inmensus aether, qui constat ex altissimis ignibus (mutuemur hoc quoque verbum, dicaturque tam aether Latine quam dicitur aer, etsi interpretatur Pacuvius: “hoc, quod memoro, nostri caelum Grai perhibent aethera”—quasi vero non Graius hoc dicat. “at Latine loquitur.” si quidem nos non quasi Graece loquentem audiamus; docet idem alio loco:”

[2.92]
““Graiugena: de isto aperit ipsa oratio”)—sed ad maiora redeamus. ex aethere igitur innumerabiles flammae siderum existunt, quorum est princeps sol omnia clarissima luce conlustrans, multis partibus maior atque amplior quam terra universa, deinde reliqua sidera magnitudinibus inmensis. atque hi tanti ignes tamque multi non modo nihil nocent terris rebusque terrestribus, sed ita prosunt ut si mota loco sint conflagrare terras necesse sit a tantis ardoribus moderatione et temperatione sublata.”

[2.93]
“Hic ego non mirer esse quemquam qui sibi persuadeat corpora quaedam solida atque individua vi et gravitate ferri mundumque effici ornatissimum et pulcherrimum ex eorum corporum concursione fortuita? hoc qui existimat fieri potuisse, non intellego cur non idem putet, si innumerabiles unius et viginti formae litterarum vel aureae vel qualeslibet aliquo coiciantur, posse ex is in terram excussis annales Enni ut deinceps legi possint effici; quod nescio an ne in uno quidem versu possit tantum valere fortuna.”

[2.94]
“isti autem quem ad modum adseverant ex corpusculis non colore non qualitate aliqua (quam ποιότητα Graeci vocant) non sensu praeditis sed concurrentibus temere atque casu mundum esse perfectum, vel innumerabiles potius in omni puncto temporis alios nasci alios interire: quod si mundum efficere potest concursus atomorum, cur porticum cur templum cur domum cur urbem non potest, quae sunt minus operosa; et multa quidem faciliora. certe ita temere de mundo effuttiunt, ut mihi quidem numquam hunc admirabilem caeli ornatum (qui locus est proxumus) suspexisse videantur.”

[2.95]
“Praeclare ergo Aristoteles “Si essent” inquit “qui sub terra semper habitavissent bonis et inlustribus domiciliis, quae essent ornata signis atque picturis instructaque rebus his omnibus quibus abundant i qui beati putantur, nec tamen exissent umquam supra terram, accepissent autem fama et auditione esse quoddam numen et vim deorum, deinde aliquo tempore patefactis terrae faucibus ex illis abditis sedibus evadere in haec loca quae nos incolimus atque exire potuissent: cum repente terram et maria caelumque vidissent, nubium magnitudinem ventorumque vim cognovissent aspexissentque solem eiusque cum magnitudinem pulchritudinemque tum etiam efficientiam cognovissent, quod is diem efficeret toto caelo luce diffusa, cum autem terras nox opacasset tum caelum totum cernerent astris distinctum et ornatum lunaeque luminum varietatem tum crescentis tum senescentis, eorumque omnium ortus et occasus atque in omni aeternitate ratos inmutabilesque cursus—quae cum viderent, profecto et esse deos et haec tanta opera deorum esse arbitrarentur”.”

[2.96]
“atque haec quidem ille; nos autem tenebras cogitemus tantas quantae quondam eruptione Aetnaeorum ignium finitimas regiones obscuravisse dicuntur, ut per biduum nemo hominem homo agnosceret, cum autem tertio die sol inluxisset tum ut revixisse sibi viderentur: quod si hoc idem ex aeternis tenebris contingeret ut subito lucem aspiceremus, quaenam species caeli videretur? sed adsiduitate cotidiana et consuetudine oculorum adsuescunt animi, neque admirantur neque requirunt rationes earum rerum quas semper vident, proinde quasi novitas nos magis quam magnitudo rerum debeat ad exquirendas causas excitare.”

[2.97]
“Quis enim hunc hominem dixerit, qui, cum tam certos caeli motus tam ratos astrorum ordines tamque inter se omnia conexa et apta viderit, neget in his ullam inesse rationem eaque casu fieri dicat, quae quanto consilio gerantur nullo consilio adsequi possumus. an, cum machinatione quadam moveri aliquid videmus, ut sphaeram ut horas ut alia permulta, non dubitamus quin illa opera sint rationis, cum autem impetum caeli cum admirabili celeritate moveri vertique videamus constantissime conficientem vicissitudines anniversarias cum summa salute et conservatione rerum omnium, dubitamus quin ea non solum ratione fiant sed etiam excellenti divinaque ratione?”

[2.98]
“Licet enim iam remota subtilitate disputandi oculis quodam modo contemplari pulchritudinem rerum earum quas divina providentia dicimus constitutas.”

“Ac principio terra universa cernatur, locata in media sede mundi, solida et globosa et undique ipsa in sese nutibus suis conglobata, vestita floribus herbis arboribus frugibus, quorum omnium incredibilis multitudo insatiabili varietate distinguitur. adde huc fontum gelidas perennitates, liquores perlucidos amnium, riparum vestitus viridissimos, speluncarum concavas altitudines, saxorum asperitates, inpendentium montium altitudines inmensitatesque camporum; adde etiam reconditas auri argentique venas infinitamque vim marmoris.”

[2.99]
“quae vero et quam varia genera bestiarum vel cicurum vel ferarum, qui volucrium lapsus atque cantus, qui pecudum pastus, quae vita silvestrium. quid iam de hominum genere dicam, qui quasi cultores terrae constituti non patiuntur eam nec inmanitate beluarum efferari nec stirpium asperitate vastari, quorumque operibus agri insulae litoraque collucent distincta tectis et urbibus. quae si ut animis sic oculis videre possemus, nemo cunctam intuens terram de divina ratione dubitaret.”

[2.100]
“At vero quanta maris est pulchritudo, quae species universi, quae multitudo et varietas insularum, quae amoenitates orarum ac litorum, quot genera quamque disparia partim submersarum partim fluitantium et innantium beluarum partim ad saxa nativis testis inhaerentium. ipsum autem mare sic terram appetens litoribus eludit, ut una ex duabus naturis conflata videatur.”

[2.101]
“Exin mari finitumus aer die et nocte distinguitur, isque tum fusus et extenuatus sublime fertur, tum autem concretus in nubes cogitur umoremque colligens terram auget imbribus, tum effluens huc et illuc ventos efficit. idem annuas frigorum et calorum facit varietates, idemque et volatus alitum sustinet et spiritu ductus alit et sustentat animantes.”

“Restat ultimus et a domiciliis nostris altissimus omnia cingens et coercens caeli complexus, qui idem aether vocatur, extrema ora et determinatio mundi, in quo cum admirabilitate maxima igneae formae cursus ordinatos definiunt.”

[2.102]
“E quibus sol, cuius magnitudine multis partibus terra superatur, circum eam ipsam volvitur, isque oriens et occidens diem noctemque conficit et modo accedens tum autem recedens binas in singulis annis reversiones ab extremo contrarias facit, quarum in intervallo tum quasi tristitia quadam contrahit terram tum vicissim laetificat ut cum caelo hilarata videatur.”

[2.103]
“Luna autem, quae est, ut ostendunt mathematici, maior quam dimidia pars terrae, isdem spatiis vagatur quibus sol, sed tum congrediens cum sole tum degrediens et eam lucem quam a sole accepit mittit in terras et varias ipsa lucis mutationes habet, atque etiam tum subiecta atque opposita soli radios eius et lumen obscurat, tum ipsa incidens in umbram terrae, cum est e regione solis, interpositu interiectuque terrae repente deficit. Isdemque spatiis eae stellae quas vagas dicimus circum terram feruntur eodemque modo oriuntur et occidunt, quarum motus tum incitantur tum retardantur,”

[2.104]
“saepe etiam insistunt, quo spectaculo nihil potest admirabilius esse nihil pulchrius. Sequitur stellarum inerrantium maxima multitudo, quarum ita descripta distinctio est, ut ex notarum figurarum similitudine nomina invenerint.”

Atque hoc loco me intuens “Utar” inquit “carminibus Arateis, quae a te admodum adulescentulo conversa ita me delectant quia Latina sunt, ut multa ex is memoria teneam. Ergo, ut oculis adsidue videmus, sine ulla mutatione aut varietate
cetera labuntur celeri caelestia motu

cum caeloque simul noctesque diesque feruntur,”

[2.105]
“quorum contemplatione nullius expleri potest animus naturae constantiam videre cupientis.
extremusque adeo duplici de cardine vertex

dicitur esse polus.
Hunc circum Arctoe duae feruntur numquam occidentes.
ex is altera apud Graios Cynosura vocatur,

altera dicitur esse Helice,
cuius quidem clarissimas stellas totis noctibus cernimus, quas
nostri Septem soliti vocitare Triones;”

[2.106]
“paribusque stellis similiter distinctis eundem caeli verticem lustrat parva Cynosura.
hac fidunt duce nocturna Phoenices in alto.

sed prior illa magis stellis distincta refulget

et late prima confestim a nocte videtur.

haec vero parva est, sed nautis usus in hac est;

nam cursu interiore brevi convertitur orbe.
Et quo sit earum stellarum admirabilior aspectus,
has inter veluti rapido cum gurgite flumen

torvus Draco serpit supter supraque revolvens

sese conficiensque sinus e corpore flexos.”

[2.107]
“eius cum totius est praeclara species <tum> in primis aspicienda est figura capitis atque ardor oculorum:
huic non una modo caput ornans stella relucet,

verum tempora sunt duplici fulgore notata

e trucibusque oculis duo fervida lumina flagrant

atque uno mentum radianti sidere lucet;

opstipum caput, a<t> tereti cervice reflexum

optutum in cauda maioris figere dicas.”

[2.108]
“et relicum quidem corpus Draconis totis noctibus cernimus,
hoc caput hic paulum sese subitoque recondit,

ortus ubi atque obitus parti admiscetur in una.
Id autem caput attingens
defessa velut maerentis imago

vertitur,
quam quidem Graeci
Engonasin vocitant, genibus quia nixa feratur.

hic illa eximio posita est fulgore Corona.
Atque haec quidem a tergo, propter caput autem Anguitenens,
quem claro perhibent Ophiuchum nomine Graii.”

[2.109]
“hic pressu duplici palmarum continet Anguem,

atque eius ipse manet religatus corpore torto;

namque virum medium Serpens sub pectora cingit.

ille tamen nitens graviter vestigia ponit

atque oculos urget pedibus pectusque Nepai.
Septentriones autem sequitur
Arctophylax, vulgo qui dicitur esse Bootes,

quod quasi temone adiunctam prae se quatit Arctum.
Dein quae sequuntur:”

[2.110]
““huic” enim Booti
subter praecordia fixa videtur

stella micans radiis, Arcturus nomine claro;
cuius <pedibus> subiecta fertur
Spicum inlustre tenens splendenti corpore Virgo.
Atque ita demetata signa sunt, ut in tantis descriptionibus divina sollertia appareat:
et Natos Geminos invisses sub caput Arcti;

subiectus mediaest Cancer, pedibusque tenetur

magnus Leo tremulam quatiens e corpore flammam.
Auriga
sub laeva Geminorum obductus parte feretur.

adversum caput huic Helicae truculenta tuetur.

at Capra laeum umerum clara obtinet.
Tum quae secuntur:
verum haec est magno atque inlustri praedita signo,

contra Haedi exiguum iaciunt mortalibus ignem.
Cuius sub pedibus
corniger est valido conixus corpore Taurus.
eius caput stellis conspersum est frequentibus;”

[2.111]
“has Graeci stellas Hyadas vocitare suerunt
a pluendo (ὕειν enim est pluere), nostri imperite Suculas, quasi a subus essent non ab imbribus nominatae. Minorem autem Septentrionem Cepheus passis palmis <post> terga subsequitur;
namque ipsum ad tergum Cynosurae vertitur Arcti.
Hunc antecedit
obscura specie stellarum Cassiepia.

Hanc autem inlustri versatur corpore propter

Andromeda aufugiens aspectu maesta parentis.

Huic Equos ille iubam quatiens fulgore micanti

summum contingit caput alvo, stellaque iungens

una tenet duplices communi lumine formas

aeternum ex astris cupiens conectere nodum.

exin contortis Aries cum cornibus haeret.
quem propter
Pisces, quorum alter paulum praelabitur ante

et magis horriferis aquilonis tangitur auris.”

[2.112]
“Ad pedes Andromedae Perseus describitur,
quem summa <a> regione aquilonis flamina pulsant.
cuius
propter laeum genum

Vergilias tenui cum luce videbis.

inde Fides leviter posita et convexa videtur.
inde
est ales Avis lato sub tegmine caeli.
Capiti autem Equi proxima est Aquari dextra totusque deinceps Aquarius. Tum
gelidum valido de pectore frigus anhelans

corpore semifero magno Capricornus in orbe;

quem cum perpetuo vestivit lumine Titan,

brumali flectens contorquet tempore currum.”

[2.113]
“Hic autem aspicitur
sese ostendens emergit Scorpios alte

posteriore trahens flexum vi corporis Arcum.
quem
propter nitens pinnis convolvitur Ales.

at propter se Aquila ardenti cum corpore portat.
Deinde Delphinus.
exinde Orion obliquo corpore nitens.”

[2.114]
“quem subsequens
fervidus ille Canis stellarum luce
refulget. post Lepus subsequitur
curriculum numquam defesso corpore sedans

at Canis ad caudam serpens prolabitur Argo.

hanc Aries tegit et squamoso corpore Pisces

Fluminis inlustri tangentem corpore ripas.
quem longe “serpentem” et manantem aspicies
proceraque Vincla videbis,

quae retinent Pisces caudarum a parte locata

Inde Nepae cernes propter fulgentis acumen

Aram, quam flatu permulcet spiritus austri.
Propter quae Centaurus
cedit Equi partis properans subiungere Chelis.

hic dextram porgens, quadrupes qua vasta tenetur,

tendit et inlustrem truculentus cedit ad Aram.

Hic sese infernis e partibus erigit Hydra,
cuius longe corpus est fusum,
in medioque sinu fulgens Cretera relucet.

extremam nitens plumato corpore Corvus

rostro tundit, et hic Geminis est ille sub ipsis

Ante Canem, Procyon Graio qui nomine fertur.”

[2.115]
“Haec omnis descriptio siderum atque hic tantus caeli ornatus ex corporibus huc et illuc casu et temere cursantibus potuisse effici cuiquam sano videri potest, aut vero alia quae natura mentis et rationis expers haec efficere potuit quae non modo ut fierent ratione eguerunt sed intellegi qualia sint sine summa ratione non possunt?”

“Nec vero haec solum admirabilia, sed nihil maius quam quod ita stabilis est mundus atque ita cohaeret, ad permanendum ut nihil ne excogitari quidem possit aptius. omnes enim partes eius undique medium locum capessentes nituntur aequaliter. maxime autem corpora inter se iuncta permanent cum quasi quodam vinculo circumdato colligantur; quod facit ea natura quae per omnem mundum omnia mente et ratione conficiens funditur et ad medium rapit et convertit extrema.”

[2.116]
“Quocirca si mundus globosus est ob eamque causam omnes eius partes undique aequabiles ipsae per se atque inter se continentur, contingere idem terrae necesse est, ut omnibus eius partibus in medium vergentibus (id autem medium infimum in sphaera est) nihil interrumpat quo labefactari possit tanta contentio gravitatis et ponderum. Eademque ratione mare, cum supra terram sit, medium tamen terrae locum expetens conglobatur undique aequabiliter, neque redundat umquam neque effunditur.”

[2.117]
“Huic autem continens aer fertur ille quidem levitate sublimi, sed tamen in omnes partes se ipse fundit; itaque et mari continuatus et iunctus est et natura fertur ad caelum, cuius tenuitate et calore temperatus vitalem et salutarem spiritum praebet animantibus. Quem complexa summa pars caeli, quae aetheria dicitur, et suum retinet ardorem tenuem et nulla admixtione concretum et cum aeris extremitate coniungitur. In aethere autem astra volvuntur, quae se et nisu suo conglobata continent et forma ipsa figuraque sua momenta sustentant; sunt enim rutunda, quibus formis, ut ante dixisse videor, minime noceri potest.”

[2.118]
“Sunt autem stellae natura flammeae; quocirca terrae maris aquarum<que reliquarum> vaporibus aluntur is qui a sole ex agris tepefactis et ex aquis excitantur; quibus altae renovataeque stellae atque omnis aether effundunt eadem et rursum trahunt indidem, nihil ut fere intereat aut admodum paululum, quod astrorum ignis et aetheris flamma consumat. ex quo eventurum nostri putant id de quo Panaetium addubitare dicebant, ut ad extremum omnis mundus ignesceret, cum umore consumpto neque terra ali posset nec remearet aer, cuius ortus aqua omni exhausta esse non posset: ita relinqui nihil praeter ignem, a quo rursum animante ac deo renovatio mundi fieret atque idem ornatus oreretur.”

[2.119]
“Nolo in stellarum ratione multus vobis videri, maximeque earum quae errare dicuntur; quarum tantus est concentus ex dissimillimis motibus, ut, cum summa Saturni refrigeret, media Martis incendat, is interiecta Iovis inlustret et temperet, infraque Martem duae soli oboediant, ipse sol mundum omnem sua luce compleat, ab eoque luna inluminata graviditates et partus adferat maturitatesque gignendi. Quae copulatio rerum et quasi consentiens ad mundi incolumitatem coagmentatio naturae quem non movet, hunc horum nihil umquam reputavisse certo scio.”

[2.120]
“Age ut a caelestibus rebus ad terrestres veniamus, quid est in his in quo non naturae ratio intellegentis appareat. Principio eorum quae gignuntur e terra stirpes et stabilitatem dant is quae sustinentur, et e terra sucum trahunt quo alantur ea quae radicibus continentur; obducunturque libro aut cortice trunci, quo sint a frigoribus et caloribus tutiores. iam vero vites sic claviculis adminicula tamquam manibus adprehendunt atque ita se erigunt ut animantes; quin etiam a caulibus brassicae, si propter sati sint, ut a pestiferis et nocentibus refugere dicuntur nec eos ulla ex parte contingere.”

[2.121]
“Animantium vero quanta varietas est, quanta ad eam rem vis ut in suo quaeque genere permaneat. Quarum aliae coriis tectae sunt aliae villis vestitae aliae spinis hirsutae; pluma alias alias squama videmus obductas, alias esse cornibus armatas, alias habere effugia pinnarum. Pastum autem animantibus large et copiose natura eum qui cuique aptus erat comparavit. Enumerare possum ad eum pastum capessendum conficiendumque quae sit in figuris animantium et quam sollers subtilisque descriptio partium quamque admirabilis fabrica membrorum. omnia enim, quae quidem intus inclusa sunt, ita nata atque ita locata sunt, ut nihil eorum supervacuaneum sit, nihil ad vitam retinendam non necessarium.”

[2.122]
“Dedit autem eadem natura beluis et sensum et appetitum, ut altero conatum haberent ad naturales pastus capessendos, altero secernerent pestifera a salutaribus. Iam vero alia animalia gradiendo alia serpendo ad pastum accedunt, alia volando alia nando, cibumque partim oris hiatu et dentibus ipsis capessunt, partim unguium tenacitate arripiunt partim aduncitate rostrorum, alia sugunt alia carpunt alia vorant alia mandunt. atque etiam aliorum east humilitas ut cibum terrestrem rostris facile contingant, quae autem altiora sunt, ut anseres ut cygni ut grues ut camelli, adiuvantur proceritate collorum;”

[2.123]
“manus etiam data elephantost, quia propter magnitudinem corporis difficiles aditus habebat ad pastum. at quibus bestiis erat is cibus ut †aliis generis escis vescerentur, aut vires natura dedit aut celeritatem. data est quibusdam etiam machinatio quaedam atque sollertia, ut in araneolis aliae quasi rete texunt, ut si quid inhaeserit conficiant, aliae autem ut […] ex inopinato observant et si quid incidit arripiunt idque consumunt. pina vero (sic enim Graece dicitur) duabus grandibus patula conchis cum parva squilla quasi societatem coit comparandi cibi; itaque cum pisciculi parvi in concham hiantem innataverunt, tum admonita <a> squilla pina morsu comprimit conchas: sic dissimillimis bestiolis communiter cibus quaeritur;”

[2.124]
“in quo admirandum est, congressune aliquo inter se an iam inde ab ortu natura ipsa congregatae sint. Est etiam admiratio non nulla in bestiis aquatilibus is quae gignuntur in terra; veluti crocodili fluviatilesque testudines quaedamque serpentes ortae extra aquam simul ac primum niti possunt aquam persequuntur. quin etiam anitum ova gallinis saepe supponimus; e quibus pulli orti primo aluntur ab his ut a matribus, a quibus exclusi fotique sunt, deinde eas relinquunt et effugiunt sequentes, cum primum aquam quasi naturalem domum videre potuerunt: tantam ingenuit animantibus conservandi sui natura custodiam. Legi etiam scriptum, esse avem quandam quae platalea nominaretur; eam sibi cibum quaerere advolantem ad eas avis quae se in mari mergerent, quae cum emersissent piscemque cepissent usque eo premere earum capita mordicus, dum illae captum amitterent, in quod ipsa invaderet. eademque haec avis scribitur conchis se solere complere, eas cum stomachi calore concoxerit evomere, atque ita eligere ex his quae sunt esculenta.”

[2.125]
“Ranae autem marinae dicuntur obruere sese harena solere et moveri prope aquam, ad quas quasi ad escam pisces cum accesserint confici a ranis atque consumi. Miluo est quoddam bellum quasi naturale cum corvo; ergo alter alterius ubicumque nanctus est ova frangit. Illud vero (ab Aristotele animadversum, a quo pleraque) quis potest non mirari: grues cum loca calidiora petentes maria transmittant trianguli efficere formam; eius autem summo angulo aer ab is adversus pellitur, deinde sensim ab utroque latere tamquam remis ita pinnis cursus avium levatur; basis autem trianguli, quam efficiunt grues, ea tamquam a puppi ventis adiuvatur; eaeque in tergo praevolantium colla et capita reponunt; quod quia ipse dux facere non potest, quia non habet ubi nitatur, revolat ut ipse quoque quiescat, in eius locum succedit ex his quae adquierunt, eaque vicissitudo in omni cursu conservatur.”

[2.126]
“Multa eius modi proferre possum, sed genus ipsum videtis. Iam vero illa etiam notiora, quanto se opere custodiant bestiae, ut in pastu circumspectent, ut in cubilibus delitiscant. Atque illa mirabilia, quod —ea quae nuper id est paucis ante saeclis medicorum ingeniis reperta sunt—vomitione canes, purgando autem alvo se ibes Aegyptiae curant. auditum est pantheras, quae in barbaria venenata carne caperentur, remedium quoddam habere, quo cum essent usae non morerentur, capras autem in Creta feras, cum essent confixae venenatis sagittis, herbam quaerere quae dictamnus vocaretur, quam cum gustavissent sagittas excidere dicunt e corpore;”

[2.127]
“cervaeque paulo ante partum perpurgant se quadam herbula quae seselis dicitur. Iam illa cernimus, ut contra vim et metum suis se armis quaeque defendat: cornibus tauri, apri dentibus, cursu leones, aliae fuga se aliae occultatione tutantur, atramenti effusione saepiae torpore torpedines, multae etiam insectantes odoris intolerabili foeditate depellunt.”

“Ut vero perpetuus mundi esset ornatus, magna adhibita cura est a providentia deorum, ut semper essent et bestiarum genera et arborum omniumque rerum quae a terra stirpibus continerentur; quae quidem omnia eam vim seminis habent in se ut ex uno plura generentur. Idque semen inclusum est in intuma parte earum bacarum quae ex quaque stirpe funduntur, isdemque seminibus et homines adfatim vescuntur et terrae eiusdem generis stirpium renovatione conplentur.”

[2.128]
“Quid loquar quanta ratio in bestiis ad perpetuam conservationem earum generis appareat? nam primum aliae mares aliae feminae sunt, quod perpetuitatis causa machinata natura est, deinde partes corporis et ad procreandum et ad concipiendum aptissimae, et in mari et in femina commiscendorum corporum mirae libidines, cum autem in locis semen insedit rapit omnem fere cibum ad sese eoque saeptum fingit animal; quod cum ex utero elapsum excidit, in is animantibus quae lacte aluntur omnis fere cibus matrum lactescere incipit, eaque quae paulo ante nata sunt sine magistro duce natura mammas adpetunt earumque ubertate saturantur. atque ut intellegamus nihil horum esse fortuitum et haec omnia esse opera providae sollertisque naturae, quae multiplices fetus procreant, ut sues ut canes, is mammarum data est multitudo, quas easdem paucas habent eae bestiae quae pauca gignunt.”

[2.129]
“Quid dicam quantus amor bestiarum sit in educandis custodiendisque is quae procreaverunt, usque ad eum finem dum possint se ipsa defendere. etsi pisces, ut aiunt, ova cum genuerunt relinquunt, facile enim illa aqua et sustinentur et fetum fundunt; testudines autem et crocodilos dicunt, cum in terra partum ediderint, obruere ova, deinde discedere: ita et nascuntur et educantur ipsa per sese. iam gallinae avesque reliquae et quietum requirunt ad pariendum locum et cubilia sibi nidosque construunt eosque quam possunt mollissume substernunt, ut quam facillume ova serventur; e quibus pullos cum excuderunt ita tuentur ut et pinnis foveant ne frigore laedantur et si est calor a sole se opponant; cum autem pulli pinnulis uti possunt, tum volatus eorum matres prosequuntur, reliqua cura liberantur.”

[2.130]
“Accedit etiam ad non nullorum animantium et earum rerum quas terra gignit conservationem et salutem hominum etiam sollertia et diligentia. nam multae et pecudes et stirpes sunt quae sine procuratione hominum salvae esse non possunt.”

“Magnae etiam oportunitates ad cultum hominum atque abundantiam aliae aliis in locis reperiuntur. Aegyptum Nilus inrigat, et cum tota aestate obrutam oppletamque tenuit tum recedit mollitosque et oblimatos agros ad serendum relinquit. Mesopotamiam fertilem efficit Euphrates, in quam quotannis quasi novos agros invehit. Indus vero, qui est omnium fluminum maximus, non aqua solum agros laetificat et mitigat, sed eos etiam conserit; magnam enim vim seminum secum frumenti similium dicitur deportare.”

[2.131]
“multaque alia in aliis locis commemorabilia proferre possum, multos fertiles agros alios aliorum fructuum. Sed illa quanta benignitas naturae, quod tam multa ad vescendum tam varie tam iucunda gignit, neque ea uno tempore anni, ut semper et novitate delectemur et copia. Quam tempestivos autem dedit quam salutares non modo hominum sed etiam pecudum generi, is denique omnibus quae oriuntur e terra, ventos etesias; quorum flatu nimii temperantur calores, ab isdem etiam maritimi cursus celeres et certi diriguntur. Multa praetereunda sunt et tamen multa dicuntur.”

[2.132]
“enumerari enim non possunt fluminum oportunitates, aestus maritimi †multum accedentes et recedentes, montes vestiti atque silvestres, salinae ab ora maritima remotissimae, medicamentorum salutarium plenissumae terrae, artes denique innumerabiles ad victum et ad vitam necessariae. Iam diei noctisque vicissitudo conservat animantes tribuens aliud agendi tempus aliud quiescendi.”

“Sic undique omni ratione concluditur mente consilioque divino omnia in hoc mundo ad salutem omnium conservationemque admirabiliter administrari.”

[2.133]
“Sin quaeret quispiam cuiusnam causa tantarum rerum molitio facta sit—arborumne et herbarum, quae quamquam sine sensu sunt tamen a natura sustinentur: at id quidem absurdum est; an bestiarum: nihilo probabilius deos mutarum et nihil intellegentium causa tantum laborasse. quorum igitur causa quis dixerit effectum esse mundum? eorum scilicet animantium quae ratione utuntur; hi sunt di et homines; quibus profecto nihil est melius, ratio est enim quae praestet omnibus ita fit credibile deorum et hominum causa factum esse mundum quaeque in eo mundo sint omnia.”

“Faciliusque intellegetur a dis inmortalibus hominibus esse provisum, si erit tota hominis fabricatio perspecta omnisque humanae naturae figura atque perfectio.”

[2.134]
“Nam cum tribus rebus animantium vita teneatur, cibo potione spiritu, ad haec omnia percipienda os est aptissimum quod adiunctis naribus spiritu augetur, dentibus autem in ore constructis mandatur atque ab is extenuatur et mollitur cibus. eorum adversi acuti morsu dividunt escas, intimi autem conficiunt qui genuini vocantur; quae confectio etiam a lingua adiuvari videtur.”

[2.135]
“linguam autem ad radices eius haerens excipit stomachus, quo primum inlabuntur ea quae accepta sunt ore. is utraque ex parte tosillas attingens palato extremo atque intimo terminatur atque is agitatione et motibus linguae cum depulsum et quasi detrusum cibum accepit depellit. ipsius autem partes eae quae sunt infra quam id quod devoratur dilatantur, quae autem supra contrahuntur.”

[2.136]
“Sed cum aspera arteria (sic enim a medicis appellatur) ostium habeat adiunctum linguae radicibus paulo supra quam ad linguam stomachus adnectitur, eaque ad pulmones usque pertineat excipiatque animam eam quae ductast spiritu eandemque a pulmonibus respiret et reddat, tegitur quodam quasi operculo, quod ob eam causam datum est, ne si quid in eam cibi forte incidisset spiritus impediretur. Sed cum alvi natura subiecta stomacho cibi et potionis sit receptaculum, pulmones autem et cor extrinsecus spiritum ducant, in alvo multa sunt mirabiliter effecta, quae constant fere e nervis; est autem multiplex et tortuosa arcetque et continet sive illud aridum est sive umidum quod recepit, ut id mutari et concoqui possit, eaque tum adstringitur tum relaxatur, atque omne quod accepit cogit et confundit, ut facile et calore, quem multum habet, et terendo cibo et praeterea spiritu omnia cocta atque confecta in reliquum corpus dividantur. in pulmonibus autem inest raritas quaedam et adsimilis spongiis mollitudo ad hauriendum spiritum aptissima, qui tum se contrahunt adspirantes tum †inre spiritu dilatantur, ut frequenter ducatur cibus animalis, quo maxime aluntur animantes.”

[2.137]
“Ex intestinis autem †alvo secretus a reliquo cibo sucus is quo alimur permanat ad iecur per quasdam a medio intestino usque ad portas iecoris (sic enim appellantur) ductas et directas vias, quae pertinent ad iecur eique adhaerent; atque inde aliae […] pertinentes sunt, per quas cadit cibus a iecore dilapsus. ab eo cibo cum est secreta bilis eique umores qui e renibus profunduntur, reliqua se in sanguinem vertunt ad easdemque portas iecoris confluunt ad quas omnes eius viae pertinent; per quas lapsus cibus in hoc ipso loco in eam venam quae cava appellatur confunditur perque eam ad cor confectus iam coctusque perlabitur; a corde autem in totum corpus distribuitur per venas admodum multas in omnes partes corporis pertinentes.”

[2.138]
“Quem ad modum autem reliquiae cibi depellantur tum astringentibus se intestinis tum relaxantibus, haud sane difficile dictu est, sed tamen praetereundum est, ne quid habeat iniucunditatis oratio. Illa potius explicetur incredibilis fabrica naturae: nam quae spiritu in pulmones anima ducitur, ea calescit primum ipso ab spiritu, deinde contagione pulmonum, ex eaque pars redditur respirando, pars concipitur cordis parte quadam quam ventriculum cordis appellant, cui similis alter adiunctus est, in quem sanguis a iecore per venam illam cavam influit. eoque modo ex is partibus et sanguis per venas in omne corpus diffunditur et spiritus per arterias; utraeque autem crebrae multaeque toto corpore intextae vim quandam incredibilem artificiosi operis divinique testantur.”

[2.139]
“Quid dicam de ossibus; quae subiecta corpori mirabiles commissuras habent et ad stabilitatem aptas et ad artus finiendos adcommodatas et ad motum et ad omnem corporis actionem. Huc adde nervos, a quibus artus continentur, eorumque inplicationem corpore toto pertinentem, qui sicut venae et arteriae a corde tractae et profectae in corpus omne ducuntur.”

[2.140]
“Ad hanc providentiam naturae tam diligentem tamque sollertem adiungi multa possunt, e quibus intellegatur quantae res hominibus a dis quamque eximiae tributae sint. Qui primum eos humo excitatos celsos et erectos constituit, ut deorum cognitionem caelum intuentes capere possent. sunt enim ex terra homines non ut incolae atque habitatores sed quasi spectatores superarum rerum atque caelestium, quarum spectaculum ad nullum aliud genus animantium pertinet. Sensus autem interpretes ac nuntii rerum in capite tamquam in arce mirifice ad usus necessarios et facti et conlocati sunt. nam oculi tamquam speculatores altissimum locum optinent, ex quo plurima conspicientes fungantur suo munere;”

[2.141]
“et aures, cum sonum percipere debeant qui natura in sublime fertur, recte in altis corporum partibus collocatae sunt; itemque nares et, quod omnis odor ad supera fertur, recte sursum sunt et, quod cibi et potionis iudicium magnum earum est, non sine causa vicinitatem oris secutae sunt. iam gustatus, qui sentire eorum quibus vescimur genera deberet, habitat in ea parte oris qua esculentis et posculentis iter natura patefecit. tactus autem toto corpore aequabiliter fusus est, ut omnes ictus omnesque nimios et frigoris et caloris adpulsus sentire possimus. atque ut in aedificiis architecti avertunt ab oculis naribusque dominorum ea quae profluentia necessario taetri essent aliquid habitura, sic natura res similis procul amandavit a sensibus.”

[2.142]
“Quis vero opifex praeter naturam, qua nihil potest esse callidius, tantam sollertiam persequi potuisset in sensibus? Quae primum oculos membranis tenuissimis vestivit et saepsit; quas primum perlucidas fecit ut per eas cerni posset, firmas autem ut continerentur. sed lubricos oculos fecit et mobiles, ut et declinarent si quid noceret et aspectum quo vellent facile converterent; aciesque ipsa qua cernimus, quae pupula vocatur, ita parva est ut ea quae nocere possint facile vitet; palpebraeque, quae sunt tegmenta oculorum, mollissimae tactu ne laederent aciem, aptissime factae et ad claudendas pupulas ne quid incideret et ad aperiendas, idque providit ut identidem fieri posset cum maxima celeritate.”

[2.143]
“munitaeque sunt palpebrae tamquam vallo pilorum, quibus et apertis oculis si quid incideret repelleretur et somno coniventibus, cum oculis ad cernendum non egeremus, ut qui tamquam involuti quiescerent. latent praeterea utiliter et excelsis undique partibus saepiuntur. primum enim superiora superciliis obducta sudorem a capite et fronte defluentem repellunt; genae deinde ab inferiore parte tutantur subiectae leviterque eminentes; nasusque ita locatus est ut quasi murus oculis interiectus esse videatur.”

[2.144]
“Auditus autem semper patet, eius enim sensu etiam dormientes egemus, a quo cum sonus est acceptus etiam e somno excitamur. flexuosum iter habet, ne quid intrare possit si simplex et directum pateret; provisum etiam ut si qua minima bestiola conaretur inrumpere in sordibus aurium tamquam in visco inhaeresceret. extra autem eminent quae appellantur aures, et tegendi causa factae tutandique sensus, et ne adiectae voces laberentur atque errarent prius quam sensus ab his pulsus esset. sed duros et quasi corneolos habent introitus multisque cum flexibus, quod his naturis relatus amplificatur sonus; quocirca et in fidibus testudine resonatur aut cornu, et ex tortuosis locis et inclusis referuntur ampliores.”

[2.145]
“Similiter nares, quae semper propter necessarias utilitates patent, contractiores habent introitus, ne quid in eas quod noceat possit pervadere; umoremque semper habent ad pulverem multaque alia depellenda non inutilem. Gustatus praeclare saeptus est; ore enim continetur et ad usum apte et ad incolumitatis custodiam.”

“Omnesque sensus hominum multo antecellunt sensibus bestiarum. Primum enim oculi in his artibus, quarum iudicium est oculorum, in pictis fictis caelatisque formis, in corporum etiam motione atque gestu multa cernunt subtilius, colorum etiam et figurarum †tum venustatem atque ordinem et ut ita dicam decentiam oculi iudicant, atque etiam alia maiora: nam et virtutes et vitia cognoscunt, iratum propitium, laetantem dolentem, fortem ignavum, audacem timidumque cognoscunt.”

[2.146]
“Auriumque item est admirabile quoddam artificiosumque iudicium, quo iudicatur et in vocis et in tibiarum nervorumque cantibus varietas sonorum intervalla distinctio, et vocis genera permulta, canorum fuscum, leve asperum, grave acutum, flexibile durum, quae hominum solum auribus iudicantur. Nariumque item et gustandi et †parte tangendi magna iudicia sunt. ad quos sensus capiendos et perfruendos plures etiam quam vellem artes repertae sunt; perspicuum est enim quo conpositiones unguentorum, quo ciborum conditiones, quo corporum lenocinia processerint.”

[2.147]
“Iam vero animum ipsum mentemque hominis rationem consilium prudentiam qui non divina cura perfecta esse perspicit, is his ipsis rebus mihi videtur carere. De quo dum disputarem tuam mihi dari vellem Cotta eloquentiam. quo enim tu illa modo diceres, quanta primum intellegentia deinde consequentium rerum cum primis coniunctio et conprehensio esset in nobis; ex quo videlicet iudicamus quid ex quibusque rebus efficiatur, idque ratione concludimus, singulasque res definimus circumscripteque conplectimur; ex quo scientia intellegitur quam vim habeat qualis<que> sit, qua ne in deo quidem est res ulla praestantior. quanta vero illa sunt, quae vos Academici infirmatis et tollitis, quod et sensibus et animo ea quae extra sunt percipimus atque conprendimus;”

[2.148]
“ex quibus conlatis inter se et conparatis artes quoque efficimus partim ad usum vitae partim ad oblectationem necessarias. Iam vero domina rerum, ut vos soletis dicere, eloquendi vis quam est praeclara quamque divina. quae primum efficit ut et ea quae ignoramus discere et ea quae scimus alios docere possimus; deinde hac cohortamur hac persuademus, hac consolamur afflictos hac deducimus perterritos a timore, hac gestientes conprimimus hac cupiditates iracundiasque restinguimus, haec nos iuris legum urbium societate devinxit, haec a vita inmani et fera segregavit.”

[2.149]
“Ad usum autem orationis incredibile est, nisi diligenter attenderis, quanta opera machinata natura sit. primum enim a pulmonibus arteria usque ad os intimum pertinet, per quam vox principium a mente ducens percipitur et funditur. deinde in ore sita lingua est finita dentibus; ea vocem inmoderate profusam fingit et terminat atque sonos vocis distinctos et pressos efficit, cum et dentes et alias partes pellit oris; itaque plectri similem linguam nostri solent dicere, chordarum dentes, nares cornibus is quae ad nervos resonant in cantibus.”

[2.150]
“Quam vero aptas quamque multarum artium ministras manus natura homini dedit. Digitorum enim contractio facilis facilisque porrectio propter molles commissuras et artus nullo in motu laborat. itaque ad pingendum fingendum, ad scalpendum, ad nervorum eliciendos sonos ad tibiarum apta manus est admotione digitorum. Atque haec oblectationis, illa necessitatis, cultus dico agrorum extructionesque tectorum, tegumenta corporum vel texta vel suta omnemque fabricam aeris et ferri; ex quo intellegitur ad inventa animo percepta sensibus adhibitis opificum manibus omnia nos consecutos, ut tecti ut vestiti ut salvi esse possemus, urbes muros domicilia delubra haberemus.”

[2.151]
“Iam vero operibus hominum id est manibus cibi etiam varietas invenitur et copia. nam et agri multa efferunt manu quaesita, quae vel statim consumantur vel mandentur condita vetustati, et praeterea vescimur bestiis et terrenis et aquatilibus et volantibus partim capiendo partim alendo. Efficimus etiam domitu nostro quadripedum vectiones, quorum celeritas atque vis nobis ipsis adfert vim et celeritatem. nos onera quibusdam bestiis nos iuga inponimus; nos elephantorum acutissumis sensibus nos sagacitate canum ad utilitatem nostram abutimur; nos e terrae cavernis ferrum elicimus rem ad colendos agros necessariam, nos aeris argenti auri venas penitus abditas invenimus et ad usum aptas et ad ornatum decoras. Arborum autem confectione omnique materia et culta et silvestri partim ad calficiendum corpus igni adhibito et ad mitigandum cibum utimur, partim ad aedificandum, ut tectis saepti frigora caloresque pellamus;”

[2.152]
“magnos vero usus adfert ad navigia facienda, quorum cursibus suppeditantur omnes undique ad vitam copiae; quasque res violentissimas natura genuit earum moderationem nos soli habemus, maris atque ventorum, propter nauticarum rerum scientiam, plurimisque maritimis rebus fruimur atque utimur. Terrenorum item commodorum omnis est in homine dominatus: nos campis nos montibus fruimur, nostri sunt amnes nostri lacus, nos fruges serimus nos arbores; nos aquarum inductionibus terris fecunditatem damus, nos flumina arcemus derigimus avertimus; nostris denique manibus in rerum natura quasi alteram naturam efficere conamur.”

[2.153]
“Quid vero hominum ratio non in caelum usque penetravit? soli enim ex animantibus nos astrorum ortus obitus cursusque cognovimus, ab hominum genere finitus est dies mensis annus, defectiones solis et lunae cognitae praedictaeque in omne posterum tempus, quae quantae quando futurae sint. Quae contuens animus accedit ad cognitionem deorum, e qua oritur pietas, cui coniuncta iustitia est reliquaeque virtutes, e quibus vita beata existit par et similis deorum, nulla alia re nisi immortalitate, quae nihil ad bene vivendum pertinet, cedens caelestibus.”

“Quibus rebus expositis satis docuisse videor hominis natura quanto omnis anteiret animantes. ex quo debet intellegi nec figuram situmque membrorum nec ingenii mentisque vim talem effici potuisse fortuna.”

[2.154]
“Restat ut doceam atque aliquando perorem, omnia quae sint in hoc mundo, quibus utantur homines, hominum causa facta esse et parata.”

“Principio ipse mundus deorum hominumque causa factus est, quaeque in eo sunt ea parata ad fructum hominum et inventa sunt. Est enim mundus quasi communis deorum atque hominum domus aut urbs utrorumque; soli enim ratione utentes iure ac lege vivunt. ut igitur Athenas et Lacedaemonem Atheniensium Lacedaemoniorumque causa putandum est conditas esse, omniaque quae sint in his urbibus eorum populorum recte esse dicuntur, sic quaecumque sunt in omni mundo deorum atque hominum putanda sunt.”

[2.155]
“Iam vero circumitus solis et lunae reliquorumque siderum, quamquam etiam ad mundi cohaerentiam pertinent, tamen et spectaculum hominibus praebent; nulla est enim insatiabilior species, nulla pulchrior et ad rationem sollertiamque praestantior; eorum enim cursus dimetati maturitates temporum et varietates mutationesque cognovimus. quae si hominibus solis nota sunt, hominum facta esse causa iudicandum est.”

[2.156]
“Terra vero feta frugibus et vario leguminum genere, quae cum maxuma largitate fundit, ea ferarumne an hominum causa gignere videtur? quid de vitibus olivetisque dicam, quarum uberrumi laetissumique fructus nihil omnino ad bestias pertinent; neque enim serendi neque colendi nec tempestive demetendi percipiendique fructus neque condendi ac reponendi ulla pecudum scientia est, earumque omnium rerum hominum est et usus et cura.”

[2.157]
“ut fides igitur et tibias eorum causa factas dicendum est qui illis uti possent, sic ea quae dixi is solis confitendum est esse parata qui utuntur, nec, si quae bestiae furantur aliquid ex is aut rapiunt, illarum quoque causa ea nata esse dicemus. neque enim homines murum aut formicarum causa frumentum condunt sed coniugum et liberorum et familiarum suarum; itaque bestiae furtim ut dixi fruuntur, domini palam et libere;”

[2.158]
“hominum igitur causa eas rerum copias comparatas fatendum est. nisi forte tanta ubertas varietas<que> pomorum eorumque iucundus non gustatus solum sed odoratus etiam et aspectus dubitationem adfert quin hominibus solis ea natura donaverit. Tantumque abest ut haec bestiarum etiam causa parata sint, ut ipsas bestias hominum gratia generatas esse videamus. quid enim oves aliud adferunt nisi ut earum villis confectis atque contextis homines vestiantur; quae quidem neque ali neque sustentari neque ullum fructum edere ex se sine cultu hominum et curatione potuissent. canum vero tam fida custodia tamque amans dominorum adulatio tantumque odium in externos et tam incredibilis ad investigandum sagacitas narium tanta alacritas in venando quid significat aliud nisi se ad hominum commoditates esse generatos.”

[2.159]
“quid de bubus loquar; quorum ipsa terga declarant non esse se ad onus accipiendum figurata, cervices autem natae ad iugum, tum vires umerorum et latitudines ad aratra †extrahenda. quibus cum terrae subigerentur fissione glebarum ab illo aureo genere, ut poetae loquuntur, vis nulla umquam adferebatur:
ferrea tum vero proles exorta repentest

ausaque funestum primast fabricarier ensem

et gustare manu iunctum domitumque iuvencum:
tanta putabatur utilitas percipi e bubus, ut eorum visceribus vesci scelus haberetur. longum est mulorum persequi utilitates et asinorum, quae certe ad hominum usum paratae sunt.”

[2.160]
“sus vero quid habet praeter escam; cui quidem ne putesceret animam ipsam pro sale datam dicit esse Chrysippus; qua pecude, quod erat ad vescendum hominibus apta, nihil genuit natura fecundius. quid multitudinem suavitatemque piscium dicam, quid avium; ex quibus tanta percipitur voluptas, ut interdum Pronoea nostra Epicurea fuisse videatur, atque eae ne caperentur quidem nisi hominum ratione atque sollertia; quamquam avis quasdam, et alites et oscines, ut nostri augures appellant, rerum augurandarum causa esse natas putamus.”

[2.161]
“iam vero immanes et feras beluas nanciscimur venando, ut et vescamur is et exerceamur in venando ad similitudinem bellicae disciplinae et utamur domitis et condocefactis, ut elephantis, multaque ex earum corporibus remedia morbis et vulneribus eligamus, sicut ex quibusdam stirpibus et herbis, quarum utilitates longinqui temporis usu et periclitatione percepimus. Totam licet animis tamquam oculis lustrare terram mariaque omnia: cernes iam spatia frugifera atque inmensa camporum vestitusque densissimos montium, pecudum pastus, tum incredibili cursus maritimos celeritate.”

[2.162]
“Nec vero supra terram sed etiam in intumis eius tenebris plurimarum rerum latet utilitas, quae ad usum hominum orta ab hominibus solis invenitur.”

“Illud vero, quod uterque vestrum arripiet fortasse ad reprendendum, Cotta quia Carneades lubenter in Stoicos invehebatur, Velleius quia nihil tam inridet Epicurus quam praedictionem rerum futurarum, mihi videtur vel maxume confirmare deorum prudentia consuli rebus humanis. est enim profecto divinatio, quae multis locis rebus temporibus apparet cum in privatis tum maxume publicis:”

[2.163]
“multa cernunt haruspices multa augures provident, multa oraclis declarantur multa vaticinationibus multa somniis multa portentis; quibus cognitis multae saepe res <ex> hominum sententia atque utilitate partae, multa etiam pericula depulsa sunt. haec igitur sive vis sive ars sive natura ad scientiam rerum futurarum homini profecto est nec ali cuiquam a dis inmortalibus data.”

“Quae si singula vos forte non movent, universa certe tamen inter se conexa atque coniuncta movere debebant.”

[2.164]
“Nec vero universo generi hominum solum sed etiam singulis a dis inmortalibus consuli et provideri solet. Licet enim contrahere universitatem generis humani eamque gradatim ad pauciores postremo deducere ad singulos. nam si omnibus hominibus, qui ubique sunt quacumque in ora ac parte terrarum ab huiusce terrae quam nos incolimus continuatione distantium, deos consulere censemus ob has causas quas ante diximus, his quoque hominibus consulunt qui has nobiscum terras ab oriente ad occidentem colunt.”

[2.165]
“sin autem consulunt qui quasi magnam quandam insulam incolunt quam nos orbem terrae vocamus, etiam illis consulunt qui partes eius insulae tenent, Europam Asiam Africam. ergo et earum partes diligunt, ut Romam Athenas Spartam Rhodum, et earum urbium separatim ab universis singulos diligunt, ut Pyrrhi bello Curium Fabricium Coruncanium, primo Punico Calatinum Duellium Metellum Lutatium, secundo Maxumum Marcellum Africanum, post hos Paulum Gracchum Catonem, patrumve memoria Scipionem Laelium; multosque praeterea et nostra civitas et Graecia tulit singulares viros, quorum neminem nisi iuvante deo talem fuisse credendum est.”

[2.166]
“quae ratio poetas maxumeque Homerum inpulit ut principibus heroum Ulixi Diomedi Agamemnoni Achilli certos deos discriminum et periculorum comites adiungeret. praeterea ipsorum deorum saepe praesentiae, quales supra commemoravi, declarant ab is et [in] civitatibus et singulis hominibus consuli quod quidem intellegitur etiam significationibus rerum futurarum, quae tum dormientibus tum vigilantibus portenduntur; multa praeterea ostentis, multa in extis admonemur multisque rebus aliis, quas diuturnus usus ita notavit ut artem divinationis efficeret.”

[2.167]
“nemo igitur vir magnus sine aliquo adflatu divino umquam fuit. Nec vero ita refellendum est ut, si segetibus aut vinetis cuiuspiam tempestas nocuerit, aut si quid e vitae commodis casus abstulerit, eum cui quid horum acciderit aut invisum deo aut neglectum a deo iudicemus. magna di curant, parva neglegunt. magnis autem viris prosperae semper omnes res, si quidem satis a nostris et a principe philosophiae Socrate dictum est de ubertatibus virtutis et copiis.”

[2.168]
“Haec mihi fere in mentem veniebant quae dicenda putarem de natura deorum. tu autem Cotta si me audias eandem causam agas teque et principem civem et pontificem esse cogites et, quoniam in utramque partem vobis licet disputare, hanc potius sumas eamque facultatem disserendi, quam tibi a rhetoricis exercitationibus acceptam amplificavit Academia, potius huc conferas. mala enim et impia consuetudo est contra deos disputandi, sive ex animo id fit sive simulate.”

### Book 3

[3.1]
Quae cum Balbus dixisset, tum adridens Cotta “Sero” inquit “mihi Balbe praecipis quid defendam. ego enim te disputante quid contra dicerem mecum ipse meditabar, neque tam refellendi tui causa quam ea quae minus intellegebam requirendi. cum autem suo cuique iudicio sit utendum, difficile factu est me id sentire quod tu velis.”

[3.2]
Hic Velleius “Nescis” inquit “quanta cum expectatione Cotta sim te auditurus. iucundus enim Balbo nostro sermo tuus contra Epicurum fuit; praebebo igitur ego me tibi vicissim attentum contra Stoicos auditorem. spero enim te ut soles bene paratum venire.”

[3.3]
Tum Cotta “Sic mehercule” inquit “Vellei; neque enim mihi par ratio cum Lucilio est ac tecum fuit.”

“Qui tandem” inquit ille.

“Quia mihi videtur Epicurus vester de dis immortalibus non magnopere pugnare: tantum modo negare deos esse non audet, ne quid invidiae subeat aut criminis; cum vero deos nihil agere nihil curare confirmat membrisque humanis esse praeditos sed eorum membrorum usum nullum habere, ludere videtur satisque putare si dixerit esse quandam beatam naturam et aeternam.”

[3.4]
“A Balbo autem animadvertisti credo quam multa dicta sint quamque etiam si minus vera tamen apta inter se et cohaerentia. itaque cogito ut dixi non tam refellere eius orationem quam ea quae minus intellexi requirere. quare Balbe tibi permitto, responderene mihi malis de singulis rebus quaerenti ex te ea quae parum accepi an universam audire orationem meam.”

Tum Balbus: “Ego vero, si quid explanari tibi voles, respondere malo, sin me interrogare non tam intellegendi causa quam refellendi, utrum voles faciam, vel ad singula quae requires statim respondebo vel cum peroraris ad omnia.”

[3.5]
Tum Cotta “Optime” inquit; “quam ob rem sic agamus ut nos ipsa ducit oratio. Sed ante quam de re, pauca de me. non enim mediocriter moveor auctoritate tua Balbe orationeque ea quae me in perorando cohortabatur ut meminissem me et Cottam esse et pontificem; quod eo credo valebat, ut opiniones, quas a maioribus accepimus de dis immortalibus, sacra caerimonias religionesque defenderem. ego vero eas defendam semper semperque defendi, nec me ex ea opinione, quam a maioribus accepi de cultu deorum inmortalium, ullius umquam oratio aut docti aut indocti movebit. sed cum de religione agitur, Ti. Coruncanium P. Scipionem P. Scaevolam pontifices maximos, non Zenonem aut Cleanthen aut Chrysippum sequor, habeoque C. Laelium augurem eundemque sapientem quem potius audiam dicentem de religione in illa oratione nobili quam quemquam principem Stoicorum. cumque omnis populi Romani religio in sacra et in auspicia divisa sit, tertium adiunctum sit si quid praedictionis causa ex portentis et monstris Sibyllae interpretes haruspicesve monuerunt, harum ego religionum nullam umquam contemnendam putavi mihique ita persuasi, Romulum auspiciis Numam sacris constitutis fundamenta iecisse nostrae civitatis, quae numquam profecto sine summa placatione deorum inmortalium tanta esse potuisset.”

[3.6]
“Habes Balbe quid Cotta quid pontifex sentiat; fac nunc ego intellegam tu quid sentias; a te enim philosopho rationem accipere debeo religionis, maioribus autem nostris etiam nulla ratione reddita credere.”

Tum Balbus “Quam igitur a me rationem” inquit “Cotta desideras?”

Et ille “Quadripertita” inquit “fuit divisio tua, primum ut velles docere deos esse, deinde quales essent, tum ab is mundum regi, postremo consulere eos rebus humanis. haec, si recte memini, partitio fuit.”

“Rectissume” inquit Balbus; “sed expecto quid requiras.”

[3.7]
Tum Cotta “Primum quidque videamus” inquit “et si id est primum, quod inter omnis nisi admodum impios convenit, mihi quidem ex animo exuri non potest, esse deos, id tamen ipsum, quod mihi persuasum est auctoritate maiorum, cur ita sit nihil tu me doces.”

“Quid est” inquit Balbus, “si tibi persuasum est, cur a me velis discere?”

Tum Cotta “Quia sic adgredior” inquit “ad hanc disputationem, quasi nihil umquam audierim de dis immortalibus nihil cogitaverim; rudem me et integrum discipulum accipe et ea quae requiro doce.”

[3.8]
“Dic igitur” inquit “quid requiras”.

“Egone, primum illud, cur, quom [perspicuum in] istam partem ne egere quidem oratione dixisses, quod esset perspicuum et inter omnis constaret <deos esse>, de eo ipso tam multa dixeris.”

“Quia te quoque” inquit “animadverti Cotta saepe cum in foro diceres quam plurimis posses argumentis onerare iudicem, si modo eam facultatem tibi daret causa. atque hoc idem et philosophi faciunt et ego ut potui feci. tu autem quod quaeris similiter facis ac si me roges cur te duobus contuear oculis et non altero coniveam, cum idem uno adsequi possim.”

[3.9]
Tum Cotta “Quam simile istud sit” inquit “tu videris. nam ego neque in causis, si quid est evidens de quo inter omnis conveniat, argumentari soleo (perspicuitas enim argumentatione elevatur) nec si id facerem in causis forensibus idem facerem in hac suptilitate sermonis. cur coniveres autem altero oculo causa non esset, cum idem obtutus esset amborum et cum rerum natura, quam tu sapientem esse vis, duo lumina ab animo ad oculos perforata nos habere voluisset. sed quia non confidebas tam esse id perspicuum quam tu velis, propterea multis argumentis deos esse docere voluisti. mihi enim unum sat erat, ita nobis maioris nostros tradidisse. sed tu auctoritates contemnis, ratione pugnas;”

[3.10]
“patere igitur rationem meam cum tua ratione contendere.”

“Adfers haec omnia argumenta cur dii sint, remque mea sententia minime dubiam argumentando dubiam facis; mandavi enim memoriae non numerum solum sed etiam ordinem argumentorum tuorum. Primum fuit, cum caelum suspexissemus statim nos intellegere esse aliquod numen quo haec regantur. ex hoc illud etiam “aspice hoc sublime candens, quem invocant omnes Iovem”:”

[3.11]
“quasi vero quisquam nostrum istum potius quam Capitolinum Iovem appellet, aut hoc perspicuum sit constetque inter omnes, eos esse deos quos tibi Velleius multique praeterea ne animantis quidem esse concedant. Grave etiam argumentum tibi videbatur, quod opinio de dis inmortalibus et omnium esset et cottidie cresceret: placet igitur tantas res opinione stultorum iudicari, vobis praesertim qui illos insanos esse dicatis? “At enim praesentis videmus deos, ut apud Regillum Postumius, in Salaria Vatinius”—nescio quid etiam de Locrorum apud Sagram proelio. quos igitur tu Tyndaridas appellabas id est homines homine natos, et quos Homerus, qui recens ab illorum aetate fuit, sepultos esse dicit Lacedaemone, eos tu cum cantheriis albis nullis calonibus obviam Vatinio venisse existimas et victoriam populi Romani Vatinio potius homini rustico quam M. Catoni qui tum erat princeps nuntiavisse? ergo et illud in silice quod hodie apparet apud Regillum tamquam vestigium ungulae Castoris equi credis esse?”

[3.12]
“nonne mavis illud credere, quod probari potest, animos praeclarorum hominum, quales isti Tyndaridae fuerunt, divinos esse et aeternos, quam eos qui semel cremati essent equitare et in acie pugnare potuisse; aut si hoc fieri potuisse dicis, doceas oportet quo modo, nec fabellas aniles proferas.”

[3.13]
Tum Lucilius “An tibi” inquit “fabellae videntur? nonne <ab> A. Postumio aedem Castori et Polluci in foro dedicatam, nonne senatus consultum de Vatinio vides? nam de Sagra Graecorum etiam est volgare proverbium, qui quae adfirmant certiora esse dicunt quam illa quae apud Sagram. his igitur auctoribus nonne debes moveri?”

Tum Cotta “Rumoribus” inquit “mecum pugnas Balbe, ego autem a te rationes requiro […]
[…]
[…]
[…] secuntur quae futura sunt;”

[3.14]
“effugere enim nemo id potest quod futurum est. saepe autem ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit; miserum est enim nihil proficientem angi nec habere ne spei quidem extremum et tamen commune solacium; praesertim cum vos idem fato fieri dicatis omnia, quod autem semper ex omni aeternitate verum fuerit id esse fatum: quid igitur iuvat aut quid adfert ad cavendum scire aliquid futurum, cum id certe futurum sit? Unde porro ista divinatio, quis invenit fissum iecoris, quis cornicis cantum notavit quis sortis? quibus ego credo, nec possum Atti Navi quem commemorabas lituum contemnere, sed qui ista intellecta sint a philosophis debeo discere, praesertim cum plurimis de rebus divini isti mentiantur.”

[3.15]
““At medici quoque” (ita enim dicebas) “saepe falluntur”. Quid simile medicina, cuius ego rationem video, et divinatio, quae unde oriatur non intellego? Tu autem etiam Deciorum devotionibus placatos deos esse censes. quae fuit eorum tanta iniquitas, ut placari populo Romano non possent nisi viri tales occidissent? consilium illud imperatorium fuit, quod Graeci στρατήγημα appellant, sed eorum imperatorum qui patriae consulerent vitae non parcerent; rebantur enim fore ut exercitus imperatorem equo incitato se in hostem inmittentem persequeretur, id quod evenit. Nam Fauni vocem equidem numquam audivi; tibi, si audivisse te dicis, credam, etsi Faunus omnino quid sit nescio. Non igitur adhuc, quantum quidem in te est Balbe, intellego deos esse; quos equidem credo esse, sed nil docent Stoici.”

[3.16]
“Nam Cleanthes ut dicebas quattuor modis informatas in animis hominum putat deorum esse notiones. unus is modus est de quo satis dixi, qui est susceptus ex praesensione rerum futurarum; alter ex perturbationibus tempestatum et reliquis motibus; tertius ex commoditate rerum quas percipimus et copia; quartus ex astrorum ordine caelique constantia. De praesensione diximus. De perturbationibus caelestibus et maritimis et terrenis non possumus dicere cum ea fiant non esse multos qui illa metuant et a dis inmortalibus fieri existument;”

[3.17]
“sed non id quaeritur, sintne aliqui qui deos esse putent: di utrum sint necne sint quaeritur. Nam reliquae causae quas Cleanthes adfert, quarum una est de commodorum quae capimus copia, altera de temporum ordine caelique constantia, tum tractabuntur a nobis, cum disputabimus de providentia deorum, de qua plurima a te Balbe dicta sunt;”

[3.18]
“eodemque illa etiam differemus, quod Chrysippum dicere aiebas, quoniam esset aliquid in rerum natura quod ab homine effici non posset, esse aliquid homine melius, quaeque in domo pulchra cum pulchritudine mundi comparabas, et cum totius mundi convenientiam consensumque adferebas; Zenonisque brevis et acutulas conclusiones in eam partem sermonis quam modo dixi differemus; eodemque tempore illa omnia quae a te physice dicta sunt de vi ignea deque eo calore ex quo omnia generari dicebas loco suo quaerentur; omniaque quae a te nudius tertius dicta sunt, cum docere velles deos esse, quare et mundus universus et sol et luna et stellae sensum ac mentem haberent, in idem tempus reservabo.”

[3.19]
“A te autem idem illud etiam atque etiam quaeram, quibus rationibus tibi persuadeas deos esse.”

Tum Balbus: “Equidem attulisse rationes mihi videor, sed eas tu ita refellis, ut, cum me interrogaturus esse videare et ego me ad respondendum compararim, repente avertas orationem nec des respondendi locum. itaque maximae res tacitae praeterierunt, de divinatione de fato, quibus de quaestionibus tu quidem strictim nostri autem multa solent dicere, sed ab hac ea quaestione quae nunc in manibus est separantur; quare si videtur noli agere confuse, ut hoc explicemus, hac disputatione quod quaeritur.”

[3.20]
“Optime” inquit Cotta. “Itaque quoniam quattuor in partes totam quaestionem divisisti de primaque diximus, consideremus secundam; quae mihi talis videtur fuisse, ut, cum ostendere velles quales di essent, ostenderes nullos esse. A consuetudine oculorum animum abducere difficillimum dicebas, sed, cum deo nihil praestantius esset, non dubitabas quin mundus esset deus, quo nihil in rerum natura melius esset: modo possemus eum animantem cogitare vel potius ut cetera oculis sic animo hoc cernere.”

[3.21]
“Sed cum mundo negas quicquam esse melius, quid dicis melius? si pulchrius, adsentior; si aptius ad utilitates nostras, id quoque adsentior; sin autem id dicis, nihil esse mundo sapientius, nullo modo prorsus adsentior, non quod difficile sit mentem ab oculis sevocare, sed quo magis sevoco eo minus id quod tu vis possum mente comprendere. “Nihil est mundo melius in rerum natura.” Ne in terris quidem urbe nostra; num igitur idcirco in urbe esse rationem cogitationem mentem putas, aut, quoniam non sit, num idcirco existimas formicam anteponendam esse huic pulcherrumae urbi, quod in urbe sensus sit nullus, in formica non modo sensus sed etiam mens ratio memoria? videre oportet Balbe quid tibi concedatur, non te ipsum quod velis sumere.”

[3.22]
“Istum enim locum totum illa vetus Zenonis brevis et ut tibi videbatur acuta conclusio dilatavit […]. Zeno enim ita concludit: “Quod ratione utitur id melius est quam id quod ratione non utitur; nihil autem mundo melius; ratione igitur mundus utitur”.”

[3.23]
“Hoc si placet, iam efficies ut mundus optime librum legere videatur; Zenonis enim vestigiis hoc modo rationem poteris concludere: “quod litteratum est id est melius quam quod non est litteratum; nihil autem mundo melius; litteratus igitur est mundus”—isto modo etiam disertus et quidem mathematicus musicus, omni denique doctrina eruditus, postremo philosophus. Saepe dixisti nihil fieri sine deo, nec ullam vim esse naturae ut sui dissimilia posset effingere: concedam non modo animantem et sapientem esse mundum sed fidicinem etiam et tubicinem, quoniam earum quoque artium homines ex eo procreantur? Nihil igitur adfert pater iste Stoicorum quare mundum ratione uti putemus, ne cur animantem quidem esse. non est igitur mundus deus; et tamen nihil est eo melius: nihil est enim eo pulchrius nihil salutarius nobis, nihil ornatius aspectu motuque constantius.”

“Quod si mundus universus non est deus, ne stellae quidem, quas tu innumerabilis in deorum numero reponebas. quarum te cursus aequabiles aeternique delectabant, nec mehercule iniuria, sunt enim admirabili incredibilique constantia.”

[3.24]
“sed non omnia Balbe quae cursus certos et constantis habent ea deo potius tribuenda sunt quam naturae. quid Chalcidico Euripo in motu identidem reciprocando putas fieri posse constantius, quid freto Siciliensi, quid Oceani fervore illis in locis, “Europam Libyamque rapax ubi dividit unda”? quid aestus maritimi vel Hispanienses vel Brittannici eorumque certis temporibus vel accessus vel recessus sine deo fieri nonne possunt? vide quaeso, si omnis motus omniaque quae certis temporibus ordinem suum conservant divina dicimus, ne tertianas quoque febres et quartanas divinas esse dicendum sit, quarum reversione et motu quid potest esse constantius. sed omnium talium rerum ratio reddenda est;”

[3.25]
“quod vos cum facere non potestis, tamquam in aram confugitis ad deum.”

“Et Chrysippus tibi acute dicere videbatur, homo sine dubio versutus et callidus (versutos eos appello quorum celeriter mens versatur, callidos autem quorum tamquam manus opere sic animus usu concalluit); is igitur “Si aliquid est” inquit “quod homo efficere non possit, qui id efficit melior est homine; homo autem haec quae in mundo sunt efficere non potest; qui potuit igitur is praestat homini; homini autem praestare quis possit nisi deus; est igitur deus”. Haec omnia in eodem quo illa Zenonis errore versantur.”

[3.26]
“quid enim sit melius quid praestabilius, quid inter naturam et rationem intersit, non distinguitur. Idemque, si dei non sint, negat esse in omni natura quicquam homine melius; id autem putare quemquam hominem, nihil homine esse melius, summae adrogantiae censet esse. Sit sane adrogantis pluris se putare quam mundum; at illud non modo non adrogantis sed potius prudentis, intellegere se habere sensum et rationem, haec eadem Orionem et Caniculam non habere. Et “Si domus pulchra sit, intellegamus eam dominis” inquit “aedificatam esse non muribus; sic igitur mundum deorum domum existimare debemus”. Ita prorsus existimarem, si illum aedificatum, non quem ad modum docebo a natura conformatum putarem.”

[3.27]
“At enim quaerit apud Xenophontem Socrates unde animum arripuerimus si nullus fuerit in mundo. Et ego quaero unde orationem unde numeros unde cantus; nisi vero loqui solem cum luna putamus cum propius accesserit, aut ad harmoniam canere mundum ut Pythagoras existimat. Naturae ista sunt Balbe, naturae non artificiose ambulantis ut ait Zeno, quod quidem quale sit iam videbimus, sed omnia cientis et agitantis motibus et mutationibus suis.”

[3.28]
“Itaque illa mihi placebat oratio de convenientia consensuque naturae, quam quasi cognatione continuatam conspirare dicebas, illud non probabam, quod negabas id accidere potuisse nisi ea uno divino spiritu contineretur. illa vero cohaeret et permanet naturae viribus non deorum, estque in ea iste quasi consensus, quam συνπάθειαν Graeci vocant; sed ea quo sua sponte maior est eo minus divina ratione fieri existimanda est.”

[3.29]
“Illa autem, quae Carneades adferebat, quem ad modum dissolvitis: si nullum corpus inmortale sit, nullum esse corpus sempiternum: corpus autem inmortale nullum esse, ne individuum quidem nec quod dirimi distrahive non possit; cumque omne animal patibilem naturam habeat, nullum est eorum quod effugiat accipiendi aliquid extrinsecus id est quasi ferendi et patiendi necessitatem, et si omne animal tale est inmortale nullum est. Ergo itidem, si omne animal secari ac dividi potest, nullum est eorum individuum nullum aeternum; atqui omne animal ad accipiendam vim externam et ferundam paratum est; mortale igitur omne animal et dissolubile et dividuum sit necesse est.”

[3.30]
“Ut enim, si omnis cera commutabilis esset, nihil esset cereum quod commutari non posset, item nihil argenteum nihil aeneum, si commutabilis esset, natura argenti et aeris—similiter igitur, si omnia quae sunt […] e quibus cuncta constant mutabilia sunt, nullum corpus esse potest non mutabile; mutabilia autem sunt illa ex quibus omnia constant, ut vobis videtur; omne igitur corpus mutabile est. at si esset corpus aliquod immortale, non esset omne mutabile; ita efficitur ut omne corpus mortale sit. Etenim omne corpus aut aqua aut aer aut ignis aut terra est aut id quod est concretum ex is aut ex aliqua parte eorum.”

[3.31]
“horum autem nihil est quin intereat; nam et terrenum omne dividitur, et umor ita mollis est ut facile premi conlidique possit; ignis vero et aer omni pulsu facillime pellitur naturaque cedens est maxime et dissupabilis. praetereaque omnia haec tum intereunt cum in naturam aliam convertuntur, quod fit cum terra in aquam se vertit et cum ex aqua oritur aer ex aere aether, cumque eadem vicissim retro commeant. quod si <ita est, ut> ea intereant e quibus constet omne animal, nullum est animal sempiternum.”

[3.32]
“Et ut haec omittamus, tamen animal nullum inveniri potest quod neque natum umquam sit et semper sit futurum. omne enim animal sensus habet; sentit igitur et calida et frigida et dulcia et amara nec potest ullo sensu iucunda accipere non accipere contraria; si igitur voluptatis sensum capit, doloris etiam capit; quod autem dolorem accipit id accipiat etiam interitum necesse est; omne igitur animal confitendum est esse mortale. Praeterea, si quid est quod nec voluptatem sentiat nec dolorem, id animal esse non potest;”

[3.33]
“sin autem quod animal est, id illa necesse est sentiat, et quod ea sentiat non potest esse aeternum; et omne animal sentit; nullum igitur animal aeternum est. Praeterea nullum potest esse animal in quo non et adpetitio sit et declinatio naturalis. adpetuntur autem quae secundum naturam sunt, declinantur contraria; et omne animal adpetit quaedam et fugit a quibusdam, quod autem refugit id contra naturam est, et quod est contra naturam id habet vim interemendi. omne ergo animal intereat necesse est.”

[3.34]
“Innumerabilia sunt ex quibus effici cogique possit nihil esse quod sensum habeat quin id intereat; etenim ea ipsa quae sentiuntur, ut frigus ut calor <ut> voluptas ut dolor ut cetera, cum amplificata sunt interimunt; nec ullum animal est sine sensu; nullum igitur animal aeternum est. Etenim aut simplex est natura animantis, ut vel terrena sit vel ignea vel animalis vel umida, quod quale sit ne intellegi quidem potest, aut concretum ex pluribus naturis, quarum suum quaeque locum habeat quo naturae vi feratur, alia infimum alia summum alia medium. haec ad quoddam tempus cohaerere possunt, semper autem nullo modo possunt; necesse est enim in suum quaeque locum natura rapiatur. nullum igitur animal est sempiternum.”

[3.35]
“Sed omnia vestri Balbe solent ad igneam vim referre Heraclitum ut opinor sequentes, quem ipsum non omnes interpretantur uno modo, †quoniam quid diceret quod intellegi noluit† omittamus; vos autem ita dicitis, omnem vim esse ignem, itaque et animantis cum calor defecerit tum interire, et in omni natura rerum id vivere id vigere quod caleat. Ego autem non intellego quo modo calore extincto corpora intereant, non intereant umore aut spiritu amisso, praesertim cum intereant etiam nimio calore.”

[3.36]
“quam ob rem id quidem commune est de calido; verum tamen videamus exitum. ita voltis opinor, nihil esse animal extrinsecus in natura atque mundo praeter ignem: qui magis quam praeter animam, unde animantium quoque constet animus, ex quo animal dicitur? quo modo autem hoc quasi concedatur sumitis, nihil esse animum nisi ignem; probabilius enim videtur tale quiddam esse animum, ut sit ex igni atque anima temperatum. “Quod si ignis ex sese ipse animal est nulla se alia admiscente natura, quoniam is, cum inest in corporibus nostris, efficit ut sentiamus, non potest ipse esse sine sensu.” Rursus eadem dici possunt: quidquid est enim quod sensum habeat, id necesse est sentiat et voluptatem et dolorem, ad quem autem dolor veniat ad eundem etiam interitum venire. ita fit ut ne ignem quidem efficere possitis aeternum.”

[3.37]
“Quid enim, non eisdem vobis placet omnem ignem pastus indigere nec permanere ullo modo posse nisi alatur, ali autem solem lunam reliqua astra aquis, alia dulcibus alia marinis; eamque causam Cleanthes adfert cur se sol referat nec longius progrediatur solstitiali orbi itemque brumali, ne longius discedat a cibo. Hoc totum quale sit mox; nunc autem concludatur illud: quod interire possit id aeternum non esse natura; ignem autem interiturum esse nisi alatur; non esse igitur natura ignem sempiternum.”

[3.38]
“Qualem autem deum intellegere nos possumus nulla virtute praeditum? Quid enim, prudentiamne deo tribuemus, quae constat ex scientia rerum bonarum et malarum et nec bonarum nec malarum? cui mali nihil est nec esse potest, quid huic opus est dilectu bonorum et malorum, quid autem ratione quid intellegentia: quibus utimur ad eam rem ut apertis obscura adsequamur; at opscurum deo nihil potest esse. Nam iustitia, quae suum cuique distribuit, quid pertinet ad deos; hominum enim societas et communitas, ut vos dicitis, iustitiam procreavit. Temperantia autem constat ex praetermittendis voluptatibus corporis: cui si locus in caelo est, est etiam voluptatibus. Nam fortis deus intellegi qui potest, in dolore an in labore an in periculo:”

[3.39]
“quorum deum nihil attingit. Nec ratione igitur utentem nec virtute ulla praeditum deum intellegere qui possumus?”

“Nec vero volgi atque imperitorum inscitiam despicere possum, cum ea considero quae dicuntur a Stoicis. sunt enim illa imperitorum: piscem Syri venerantur, omne fere genus bestiarum Aegyptii consecraverunt; iam vero in Graecia multos habent ex hominibus deos, Alabandum Alabandis, Tenedi Tenen, Leucotheam quae fuit Ino et eius Palaemonem filium cuncta Graecia— Herculem Aesculapium Tyndaridas Romulum nostrum aliosque compluris, quos quasi novos et adscripticios cives in caelum receptos putant.”

[3.40]
“Haec igitur indocti; quid vos philosophi, qui meliora? Omitto illa, sunt enim praeclara: sit sane deus ipse mundus. hoc credo illud esse “sublime candens, quem invocant omnes Iovem”. Quare igitur pluris adiungimus deos? quanta autem est eorum multitudo: mihi quidem sane multi videntur; singulas enim stellas numeras deos eosque aut beluarum nomine appellas, ut Capram ut Nepam ut Taurum ut Leonem, aut rerum inanimarum, ut Argo ut Aram ut Coronam.”

[3.41]
“Sed ut haec concedantur, reliqua qui tandem non modo concedi sed omnino intellegi possunt? Cum fruges Cererem vinum Liberum dicimus, genere nos quidem sermonis utimur usitato, sed ecquem tam amentem esse putas qui illud quo vescatur deum credat esse? Nam quos ab hominibus pervenisse dicis ad deos, tu reddes rationem quem ad modum id fieri potuerit aut cur fieri desierit, et ego discam libenter; quo modo nunc quidem est, non video quo pacto ille, cui “in monte Oetaeo inlatae lampades” fuerint ut ait Accius, “in domum aeternam patris” ex illo ardore pervenerit; quem tamen Homerus apud inferos conveniri facit ab Ulixe sicut ceteros qui excesserant vita.”

[3.42]
“Quamquam quem potissimum Herculem colamus scire sane velim; pluris enim tradunt nobis i qui interiores scrutantur et reconditas litteras, antiquissimum Iove natum—sed item Iove antiquissimo, nam Ioves quoque pluris in priscis Graecorum litteris invenimus: ex eo igitur et Lysithoe est is Hercules quem concertavisse cum Apolline de tripode accepimus. alter traditur Nilo natus Aegyptius, quem aiunt Phrygias litteras conscripsisse. tertius est ex Idaeis Digitis, cui inferias adferunt †cui. quartus Iovis est <et> Asteriae Latonae sororis, qui Tyri maxime colitur, cuius Carthaginem filiam ferunt, quintus in India qui Belus dicitur, sextus hic ex Alcmena quem Iuppiter genuit, sed tertius Iuppiter, quoniam ut iam docebo pluris Ioves etiam accepimus.”

[3.43]
“Quando enim me in hunc locum deduxit oratio, docebo meliora me didicisse de colendis diis inmortalibus iure pontificio et more maiorum capedunculis his, quas Numa nobis reliquit, de quibus in illa aureola oratiuncula dicit Laelius, quam rationibus Stoicorum. Si enim vos sequar, dic quid ei respondeam qui me sic roget: “Si di sunt […], suntne etiam Nymphae deae? si Nymphae, Panisci etiam et Satyri; hi autem non sunt; ne Nymphae [deae] quidem igitur. at earum templa sunt publice vota et dedicata. ne ceteri quidem ergo di, quorum templa sunt dedicata. Age porro: Iovem et Neptunum deum numeras; ergo etiam Orcus frater eorum deus, et illi qui fluere apud inferos dicuntur, Acheron Cocytus Pyriphlegethon, tum Charon tum Cerberus di putandi.””

[3.44]
““at id quidem repudiandum; ne Orcus quidem igitur; quid dicitis ergo de fratribus?” Haec Carneades aiebat, non ut deos tolleret (quid enim philosopho minus conveniens), sed ut Stoicos nihil de dis explicare convinceret; itaque insequebatur: “Quid enim” aiebat, “si hi fratres sunt in numero deorum, num de patre eorum Saturno negari potest, quem volgo maxime colunt ad occidentem? qui si est deus, patrem quoque eius Caelum esse deum confitendum est. quod si ita est, Caeli quoque parentes dii habendi sunt Aether et Dies eorumque fratres et sorores, qui a genealogis antiquis sic nominantur, Amor Dolus †modus Labor Invidentia Fatum Senectus Mors Tenebrae Miseria Querella Gratia Fraus Pertinacia Parcae Hesperides Somnia; quos omnis Erebo et Nocte natos ferunt. aut igitur haec monstra probanda sunt aut prima illa tollenda.””

[3.45]
“Quid Apollinem Volcanum Mercurium ceteros deos esse dices, de Hercule Aesculapio Libero Castore Polluce dubitabis? at hi quidem coluntur aeque atque illi, apud quosdam etiam multo magis. ergo hi dei sunt habendi mortalibus nati matribus. Quid Aristaeus qui olivae dicitur inventor Apollinis filius, Theseus qui Neptuni, reliqui quorum patres di, non erunt in deorum numero? quid quorum matres? opinor etiam magis; ut enim [in] iure civili qui est matre libera liber est, item iure naturae qui dea matre est deus sit necesse est. itaque Achillem Astypalenses insulani sanctissume colunt; qui si deus est, et Orpheus et Rhesus di sunt Musa matre nati; nisi forte maritumae nuptiae terrenis anteponuntur. si hi di non sunt, quia nusquam coluntur, quo modo illi sunt?”

[3.46]
“vide igitur ne virtutibus hominum isti honores habeantur non immortalitatibus; quod tu quoque Balbe visus es dicere. Quo modo autem potes, si Latonam deam putas, Hecatam non putare, quae matre Asteria est sorore Latonae? an haec quoque dea est; vidimus enim eius aras delubraque in Graecia. sin haec dea est, cur non Eumenides? quae si deae sunt, quarum et Athenis fanumst et apud nos ut ego interpretor lucus Furinae, Furiae deae sunt, speculatrices credo et vindices facinorum et sceleris.”

[3.47]
“Quod si tales dei sunt ut rebus humanis intersint, Natio quoque dea putanda est, cui cum fana circumimus in agro Ardeati rem divinam facere solemus; quae quia partus matronarum tueatur a nascentibus Natio nominata est. ea si dea est, di omnes illi qui commemorabantur a te, Honos Fides Mens Concordia, ergo etiam Spes Moneta omniaque quae cogitatione nobismet ipsis possumus fingere. quod si veri simile non est, ne illud quidem est haec unde fluxerunt. Quid autem dicis, si di sunt illi quos colimus et accepimus, cur non eodem in genere Serapim Isimque numeremus? quod si facimus, cur barbarorum deos repudiemus? boves igitur et equos, ibis accipitres, aspidas crocodilos pisces, canes lupos faelis, multas praeterea beluas in deorum numerum reponemus. quae si reiciamus, illa quoque unde haec nata sunt reiciemus.”

[3.48]
“Quid deinde, Ino dea ducetur et Λευκοθέα a Graecis a nobis Matuta dicetur, cum sit Cadmi filia, Circe autem et Pasiphae et Aeeta e Perseide Oceani filia natae patre Sole in deorum numero non habebuntur? quamquam Circen quoque coloni nostri Cercienses religiose colunt. ergo hanc deam ducis: quid Medeae respondebis, quae duobus <dis> avis Sole et Oceano Aeeta patre matre Idyia procreata est, quid huius Absyrtio fratri (qui est apud Pacuvium Aegialeus, sed illud nomen veterum litteris usitatius)? qui si di non sunt, vereor quid agat Ino; haec enim omnia ex eodem fonte fluxerunt.”

[3.49]
“An Amphiaraus erit deus et Trophonius? nostri quidem publicani, cum essent agri in Boeotia deorum inmortalium excepti lege censoria, negabant immortalis esse ullos qui aliquando homines fuissent. sed si sunt i di, est certe Erectheus, cuius Athenis et delubrum vidimus et sacerdotem. quem si deum facimus, quid aut de Codro dubitare possumus aut de ceteris qui pugnantes pro patriae libertate ceciderunt? quod si probabile non est, ne illa quidem superiora unde haec manant probanda sunt.”

[3.50]
“Atque in plerisque civitatibus intellegi potest augendae virtutis gratia, quo libentius rei publicae causa periculum adiret optimus quisque, virorum fortium memoriam honore deorum immortalium consecratam. ob eam enim ipsam causam Erectheus Athenis filiaeque eius in numero deorum sunt, itemque Leonaticum est delubrum Athenis quod Λεωκόριον nominatur. Alabandenses quidem sanctius Alabandum colunt, a quo est urbs illa condita, quam quemquam nobilium deorum; apud quos non inurbane Stratonicus ut multa, cum quidam ei molestus Alabandum deum esse confirmaret Herculem negaret, “ergo””

[3.51]
“inquit “mihi Alabandus tibi Hercules sit iratus”. Illa autem Balbe, quae tu a caelo astrisque ducebas, quam longe serpant non vides: solem deum esse lunamque, quorum alterum Apollinem Graeci alteram Dianam putant. quod si luna dea est, ergo etiam Lucifer ceteraeque errantes numerum deorum optinebunt; igitur etiam inerrantes. cur autem arqui species non in deorum numero reponatur; est enim pulcher (et ob eam speciem, quia causam habeat admirabilem, Thaumante dicitur esse nata). cuius si divina natura est, quid facies nubibus; arcus enim ipse e nubibus efficitur quodam modo coloratis; quarum una etiam Centauros peperisse dicitur. quod si nubes rettuleris in deos, referendae certe erunt tempestates, quae populi Romani ritibus consecratae sunt. ergo imbres nimbi procellae turbines dei putandi; nostri quidem duces mare ingredientes inmolare hostiam fluctibus consuerunt.”

[3.52]
“Iam si est Ceres a gerendo (ita enim dicebas), terra ipsa dea est (et ita habetur; quae est enim alia Tellus); sin terra, mare etiam, quem Neptunum esse dicebas; ergo et flumina et fontes. itaque et Fontis delubrum Masso ex Corsica dedicavit, et in augurum precatione Tiberinum Spinonem Anemonem Nodinum alia propinquorum fluminum nomina videmus. Ergo hoc aut in inmensum serpet, aut nihil horum recipiemus; nec illa infinita ratio superstitionis probabitur; nihil ergo horum probandum est.”

[3.53]
“Dicamus igitur Balbe oportet contra illos etiam, qui hos deos ex hominum genere in caelum translatos non re sed opinione esse dicunt, quos auguste omnes sancteque veneramur. Principio Ioves tres numerant i qui theologi nominantur, ex quibus primum et secundum natos in Arcadia, alterum patre Aethere, ex quo etiam Proserpinam natam ferunt et Liberum, alterum patre Caelo, qui genuisse Minervam dicitur, quam principem et inventricem belli ferunt, tertium Cretensem Saturni filium, cuius in illa insula sepulcrum ostenditur. Dioscoroe etiam apud Graios multis modis nominantur: primi tres, qui appellantur Anactes Athenis, ex rege Iove antiquissimo et Proserpina nati Tritopatreus Eubuleus Dionysus, secundi Iove tertio nati et Leda Castor et Pollux; tertii dicuntur a non nullis Alco et Melampus †euiolus, Atrei filii, qui Pelope natus fuit.”

[3.54]
“Iam Musae primae quattuor [natae] Iove altero †nata et Thelxinoe† Aoede Arche Melete, secundae Iove tertio et Mnemosyne procreatae novem, tertiae [Iove tertio] Piero natae et Antiopa, quas Pieridas et Pierias solent poetae appellare, isdem nominibus et eodem numero quo proxumae superiores. Cumque tu solem quia solus esset appellatum esse dicas, Soles ipsi quam multi a theologis proferuntur. unus eorum Iove natus nepos Aetheris, alter Hyperione, tertius Volcano Nili filio, cuius urbem Aegyptii volunt esse eam quae Heliopolis appellatur, quartus is quem heroicis temporibus Acantho Rhodi peperisse dicitur, <pater> Ialysi Camiri Lindi, unde Rhodii, quintus qui Colchis fertur Aeetam et Circam procreavisse. Volcani item complures:”

[3.55]
“primus Caelo natus, ex quo et Minerva Apollinem eum cuius in tutela Athenas antiqui historici esse voluerunt, secundus [in] Nilo natus Opas ut Aegyptii appellant, quem custodem esse Aegypti volunt, tertius ex tertio Iove et Iunone, qui Lemni fabricae traditur praefuisse, quartus Maemalio natus, qui tenuit insulas propter Siciliam quae Volcaniae nominabantur.”

[3.56]
“Mercurius unus Caelo patre Die matre natus, cuius obscenius excitata natura traditur quod aspectu Proserpinae commotus sit, alter Valentis et Phoronidis filius is qui sub terris habetur idem Trophonius, tertius Iove tertio natus et Maia, ex quo et Penelopa Pana natum ferunt, quartus Nilo patre, quem Aegyptii nefas habent nominare, quintus quem colunt Pheneatae, qui Argum dicitur interemisse ob eamque causam Aegyptum profugisse atque Aegyptiis leges et litteras tradidisse: hunc Aegyptii Theyt appellant, eodemque nomine anni primus mensis apud eos vocatur.”

[3.57]
“Aesculapiorum primus Apollinis, quem Arcades colunt, qui specillum invenisse primusque volnus dicitur obligavisse, secundus secundi Mercuri frater: is fulmine percussus dicitur humatus esse Cynosuris; tertius Arsippi et Arsinoae, qui primus purgationem alvi dentisque evolsionem ut ferunt invenit, cuius in Arcadia non longe a Lusio flumine sepulcrum et lucus ostenditur. Apollinum antiquissimus is quem paulo antea e Volcano natum esse dixi custodem Athenarum, alter Corybantis filius natus in Creta, cuius de illa insula cum Iove ipso certamen fuisse traditur, tertius Iove tertio natus et Latona, quem ex Hyperboreis Delphos ferunt advenisse, quartus in Arcadia, quem Arcades Nomionem appellant quod ab eo se leges ferunt accepisse.”

[3.58]
“Dianae item plures, prima Iovis et Proserpinae, quae pinnatum Cupidinem genuisse dicitur, secunda notior quam Iove tertio et Latona natam accepimus; tertiae pater Upis traditur Glauce mater: eam saepe Graeci Upim paterno nomine appellant. Dionysos multos habemus, primum Iove et Proserpina natum, secundum Nilo, qui Nysam dicitur interemisse, tertium Cabiro patre, eumque regem Asiae praefuisse dicunt, cui Sabazia sunt instituta, quartum Iove et Luna, cui sacra Orphica putantur confici, quintum Nyso natum et Thyone, a quo trieterides constitutae putantur.”

[3.59]
“Venus prima Caelo et Die nata, cuius Eli delubrum vidimus, altera spuma procreata, ex qua et Mercurio Cupidinem secundum natum accepimus, tertia Iove nata et Diona, quae nupsit Volcano, sed ex ea et Marte natus Anteros dicitur, quarta Syria Cyproque concepta, quae Astarte vocatur, quam Adonidi nupsisse proditum est. Minerva prima quam Apollinis matrem supra diximus, secunda orta Nilo, quam Aegyptii Saietae colunt, tertia illa quam a Iove generatam supra diximus, quarta Iove nata et Coryphe Oceani filia, quam Arcades Κορίαν nominant et quadrigarum inventricem ferunt, quinta Pallantis, quae patrem dicitur interemisse virginitatem suam violare conantem, cui pinnarum talaria adfigunt.”

[3.60]
“Cupido primus Mercurio et Diana prima natus dicitur, secundus Mercurio et Venere secunda, tertius qui idem est Anteros Marte et Venere tertia. Atque haec quidem <et alia> eius modi ex vetere Graeciae fama collecta sunt. quibus intellegis resistendum esse, ne perturbentur religiones; vestri autem non modo haec non refellunt verum etiam confirmant interpretando quorsum quidque pertineat.”

“Sed eo iam unde huc digressi sumus revertamur. Num censes igitur subtiliore ratione opus esse ad haec refellenda?”

[3.61]
“Nam mentem fidem spem virtutem honorem victoriam salutem concordiam ceteraque huius modi rerum vim habere videmus non deorum. aut enim in nobismet insunt ipsis, ut mens ut spes ut fides ut virtus ut concordia, aut optandae nobis sunt, ut honos ut salus ut victoria; quarum rerum utilitatem video, video etiam consecrata simulacra; quare autem in is vis deorum insit tum intellegam cum cognovero. quo in genere vel maxime est fortuna numeranda, quam nemo ab inconstantia et temeritate seiunget, quae digna certe non sunt deo.”

[3.62]
“Iam vero quid vos illa delectat explicatio fabularum et enodatio nominum? exsectum a filio Caelum, vinctum itidem a filio Saturnum, haec et alia generis eiusdem ita defenditis, ut i qui ista finxerunt non modo non insani sed etiam fuisse sapientes videantur. in enodandis autem nominibus quod miserandum sit laboratis: “Saturnus quia se saturat annis, Mavors quia magna vertit, Minerva quia minuit aut quia minatur, Venus quia venit ad omnia, Ceres a gerendo”. quam periculosa consuetudo. in multis enim nominibus haerebitis: quid Veiovi facies quid Volcano? quamquam, quoniam Neptunum a nando appellatum putas, nullum erit nomen quod non possis una littera explicare unde ductum sit; in quo quidem magis tu mihi natare visus es quam ipse Neptunus.”

[3.63]
“Magnam molestiam suscepit et minime necessariam primus Zeno post Cleanthes deinde Chrysippus, commenticiarum fabularum reddere rationem, vocabulorum cur quidque ita appellatum sit causas explicare. quod cum facitis illud profecto confitemini, longe aliter se rem habere atque hominum opinio sit; eos enim qui di appellantur rerum naturas esse non figuras deorum. Qui tantus error fuit, ut perniciosis etiam rebus non nomen deorum tribueretur sed etiam sacra constituerentur. Febris enim fanum in Palatio et <Orbonae ad> aedem Larum et aram Malae Fortunae Exquiliis consecratam videmus.”

[3.64]
“Omnis igitur talis a philosophia pellatur error, ut, cum de dis inmortalibus disputemus, dicamus digna dis inmortalibus. de quibus habeo ipse quid sentiam, non habeo autem quid tibi adsentiar. Neptunum esse dicis animum cum intellegentia per mare pertinentem, idem de Cerere; istam autem intellegentiam aut maris aut terrae non modo comprehendere animo sed ne suspicione quidem possum attingere. itaque aliunde mihi quaerendum est et ut esse deos et quales sint dii discere possim, qualis tu eos esse vis […].”

[3.65]
“[…] videamus ea quae secuntur, primum deorum<ne> prudentia mundus regatur, deinde consulantne di rebus humanis. haec enim mihi ex tua partitione restant duo; de quibus si vobis videtur accuratius disserendum puto.”

““Mihi vero” inquit Velleius “valde videtur; nam et maiora exspecto et is quae dicta sunt vehementer adsentior.””

“Tum Balbus “Interpellare te” inquit “Cotta nolo, sed sumemus tempus aliud; efficiam profecto ut fateare. sed […]””

“[…]
Cicero — — cum multa dixisset quae ad eversionem religionum valerent, ait tamen [Cotta] non esse illa vulgo disputanda, ne susceptas publice religiones disputatio talis exstinguat (Lact. Inst. 2.3.2)”

“[…]
adduci enim primum hoc ut credamus non possumus, immortalem illam praestantissimamque naturam divisam esse per sexus — — ante omnes Tullius — — nullam veritus impietatis invidiam — — quid super tali opinatione sentiret pietate cum maiore monstravit (Arnob. Nat. 3.6)”

“[…]
deorumne prudentia mundus regatur (v. 5)”

“[…] de commodorum quae capimus copia”

“[…] de temporum ordine caelique constantia”

“[…] de Chrysippi argumentis, de domo pulchra cum pulchritudine mundi comparata, de totius mundi convenientia consensuque de Zenonis conclusionibus”

“[…] de vi ignea deque eo calore ex quo omnia generentur”

“[…] num mundus universus et sol et luna et stellae sensum ac mentem habeant de sideribus pastus indigentibus”

“[…] de natura artificiose ambulante”

“[…] mundum non aedificatum sed a natura conformatum
[…]”

“Primum igitur non est probabile eam materiam rerum unde omnia orta sunt esse divina providentia effectam, sed et habere et habuisse vim et naturam suam. ut igitur faber cum quid aedificaturus est non ipse facit materiam sed utitur ea quae sit parata, fictorque item cera, sic isti providentiae divinae materiam praesto esse oportuit non quam ipse faceret sed quam haberet paratam. quod si materia non est a deo facta, ne terra quidem et aqua et aer et ignis a deo factus est.
[…]”

“cur, si omnia deus hominum causa fecerit, etiam multa contraria et inimica <et> pestifera nobis reperiantur tam in maria quam in terra. [10] quod Stoici veritatem non perspicientes ineptissime reppulerunt. aiunt enim multa esse in gignentibus et in numero animalium quorum adhuc lateat utilitas, sed eam processu tem- porum inventuiri, sicut iam multa prioribus saeculis incognita necessitas et usus invenerit. [11] quae tandem utilitas potest in muribus in blattis in serpentibus re- periri, quae homini molesta et perniciosa sunt? an medicina in his aliqua latet? quae si est, inueniatur aliquando, nempe adversus mala, cum id illi queran- tur, esse omnino malum. [12] viperam ferunt exustam in cineremque dilapsam mederi eiusdem bestiae mor- sui: quanto melius fuerat eam prorsus non esse quam remedium contra se ab ea ipsa desiderari. (Lact. ira 13.9-12)

[…]
deus aut vult tollere mala et non potest, aut potest et non vult, aut neque vult neque potest, aut et vult et potest. [21] vult et non potest, inbecillus est, quod in deum non cadit, si potest et non vult, invidus, quod aeque alienum est a deo; si neque vult neque potest, et invidus et inbecillus est ideoque nec deus; si et vult et potest, quod solum deo conuenit, unde ergo sunt mala aut cur illa non tollit? (Lact. ira 13.20-21)

[…]
homines omnibus bestiis antecedunt (Diom. GL. 1.313.10)

[…]”

“homines omnibus bestiis antecedunt
[…]”

“nequaquam istuc istac ibit; magna inest certatio.

nam ut ego illi supplicarem tanta blandiloquentia,

ni ob rem:”

[3.66]
“parumne ratiocinari videtur et sibi ipsa nefariam pestem machinari? illud vero quam callida ratione:
qui volt quod volt, ita dat se res ut operam dabit,
qui est versus omnium seminator malorum.
ille traversa mente mihi hodie tradidit repagula,

quibus ego iram omnem recludam atque illi perniciem dabo,

mihi maerores illi luctum, exitium illi exilium mihi.
hanc videlicet rationem, quam vos divino beneficio homini solum tributam dicitis, bestiae non habent;”

[3.67]
“videsne igitur quanto munere deorum simus adfecti? Atque eadem Medea patrem patriamque fugiens,
postquam pater

adpropinquat iamque paene ut conprehendatur parat,

puerum interea obtruncat membraque articulatim dividit

perque agros passim dispergit corpus: id ea gratia

ut, dum nati dissipatos artus captaret parens,

ipsa interea effugeret, illum ut maeror tardaret sequi,

sibi salutem ut familiari pareret parricidio.”

[3.68]
“huic ut scelus sic ne ratio quidem defuit. Quid ille funestas epulas fratri conparans nonne versat huc et illuc cogitatione rationem:
maior mihi moles, maius miscendumst malum,

qui illius acerbum cor contundam et conprimam.
Nec tamen ille ipse est praetereundus,
qui non sat habuit coniugem inlexe in stuprum,
de quo recte et verissume loquitur Atreus:
quod re in summa summum esse arbitror

periclum, matres coinquinari regias,

contaminari stirpem, admisceri genus.
at id ipsum quam callide, qui regnum adulterio quaereret:
“addo” inquit “huc, quod mihi portento caelestum pater”

“prodigium misit, regni stabilimen mei,”

“agnum inter pecudes aurea clarum coma”

“quondam Thyestem clepere ausum esse e regia,”

“[a] qua in re adiutricem coniugem cepit sibi.””

[3.69]
“videturne summa inprobitate usus non sine summa esse ratione? Nec vero scaena solum referta est his sceleribus sed multo vita communis paene maioribus. sentit domus unius cuiusque sentit forum, sentit curia campus socii provinciae, ut quem ad modum ratione recte fiat sic ratione peccetur, alterumque et a paucis et raro, alterum et semper et a plurimis, ut satius fuerit nullam omnino nobis a dis immortalibus datam esse rationem quam tanta cum pernicie datam. ut vinum aegrotis, quia prodest raro nocet saepissime, melius est non adhibere omnino quam spe dubiae salutis in apertam perniciem incurrere, sic haud scio an melius fuerit humano generi motum istum celerem cogitationis acumen sollertiam, quam rationem vocamus, quoniam pestifera sit multis admodum paucis salutaris, non dari omnino quam tam munifice et tam large dari.”

[3.70]
“Quam ob rem si mens voluntasque divina idcirco consuluit hominibus quod is est largita rationem, is solis consuluit quos bona ratione donavit, quos videmus si modo ulli sint esse perpaucos. non placet autem paucis a diis inmortalibus esse consultum; sequitur ergo ut nemini consultum sit.”

“Huic loco sic soletis occurrere: non idcirco non optume nobis a dis esse provisum, quod multi eorum beneficio perverse uterentur; etiam patrimoniis multos male uti, nec ob eam causam eos beneficium a patribus nullum habere. Quisquam istuc negat, aut quae est in collatione ista similitudo? nec enim Herculi nocere Deianira voluit cum ei tunicam sanguine Centauri tinctam dedit, nec prodesse Pheraeo Iasoni is qui gladio vomicam eius aperuit, quam sanare medici non potuerant. multi enim et cum obesse vellent profuerunt et cum prodesse offuerunt; ita non fit ex eo quod datur ut voluntas eius qui dederit appareat, nec si is qui accepit bene utitur idcirco is qui dedit amice dedit.”

[3.71]
“Quae enim libido quae avaritia quod facinus aut suscipitur nisi consilio capto aut sine animi motu et cogitatione di est ratione perficitur; nam omnis opinio ratio est, et quidem bona ratio si vera, mala autem si falsa est opinio. sed a deo tantum rationem habemus, si modo habemus, bonam autem rationem aut non bonam a nobis. Non enim ut patrimonium relinquitur sic ratio est homini beneficio deorum data; quid enim potius hominibus dii dedissent si is nocere voluissent, iniustitiae autem intemperantiae timiditatis quae semina essent si is vitiis ratio non subesset?”

“Medea modo et Atreus commemorabatur a nobis, heroicae personae inita subductaque ratione nefaria scelera meditantes.”

[3.72]
“quid levitates comicae parumne semper in ratione versantur? parumne subtiliter disputat ille in Eunucho:
quid igitur faciam?

exclusit, revocat; redeam? non si me obsecret.
ille vero in Synephebis Academicorum more contra communem opinionem non dubitat pugnare ratione, qui “in amore summo summaque inopia suave” esse dicit
parentem habere avarum inlepidum in liberos

difficilem, qui te nec amet nec studeat tui,”

[3.73]
“atque huic incredibili sententiae ratiunculas suggerit:
aut tu illum fructu fallas aut per litteras

avertas aliquod nomen aut per servolum

percutias pavidum; postremo a parco patre

quod sumas, quanto dissipes libentius;
idemque facilem et liberalem patrem incommodum esse amanti filio disputat:
quem neque quo pacto fallam nec quid inde auferam

nec quem dolum ad eum aut machinam commoliar

scio quicquam: ita omnes meos dolos fallacias

praestrigias praestrinxit commoditas patris.
quid ergo isti doli, quid machinae, quid fallaciae praestrigiaeque num sine ratione esse potuerunt? o praeclarum munus deorum; ut Phormio possit dicere:
cedo senem; iam instructa sunt mihi in corde consilia omnia.”

[3.74]
“Sed exeamus e theatro, veniamus in forum. sessum it praetor. quid ut iudicetur? qui tabularium incenderit. quod facinus occultius: at se Q. Sosius splendidus eques Romanus ex agro Piceno fecisse confessus est. qui transscripserit tabulas publicas: id quoque L. Alenus fecit, cum chirographum sex primorum imitatus est; quid hoc homine sollertius? cognosce alias quaestiones, auri Tolossani coniurationis Iugurthinae; repete superiora: Tubuli de pecunia capta ob rem iudicandam; posteriora: de incestu rogatione Peducaea; tum haec cotidiana: sicae venena peculatus, testamentorum etiam lege nova quaestiones. inde illa actio “ope consilioque tuo furtum aio factum esse”, inde tot iudicia de fide mala, tutelae mandati pro socio fiduciae, reliqua quae ex empto aut vendito aut conducto aut locato contra fidem fiunt, inde iudicium publicum rei privatae lege Laetoria, inde everriculum malitiarum omnium iudicium de dolo malo, quod C. Aquillius familiaris noster protulit, quem dolum idem Aquillius tum teneri putat cum aliud sit simulatum aliud actum.”

[3.75]
“Hanc igitur tantam a dis inmortalibus arbitramur malorum sementim esse factam? si enim rationem hominibus di dederunt, malitiam dederunt; est enim malitia versuta et fallax ratio nocendi; idem etiam di fraudem dederunt facinus ceteraque quorum nihil nec suscipi sine ratione nec effici potest. Utinam igitur, ut illa anus optat
ne in nemore Pelio securibus

caesae accidissent abiegnae ad terram trabes
sic istam calliditatem hominibus di ne dedissent, qua perpauci bene utuntur, qui tamen ipsi saepe a male utentibus opprimuntur, innumerabiles autem improbe utuntur, ut donum hoc divinum rationis et consilii ad fraudem hominibus non ad bonitatem impertitum esse videatur.”

[3.76]
“Sed urgetis identidem hominum esse istam culpam non deorum. Ut si medicus gravitatem morbi, gubernator vim tempestatis accuset; etsi hi quidem homunculi, sed tamen ridiculi: “quis enim te adhibuisset” dixerit quispiam “si ista non essent”. contra deum licet disputare liberius: “in hominum vitiis ais esse culpam: eam dedisses hominibus rationem quae vitia culpamque excluderet”. Ubi igitur locus fuit errori deorum? nam patrimonia spe bene tradendi relinquimus, qua possumus falli; deus falli qui potuit? an ut Sol in currum quom Phaethontem filium sustulit, aut Neptunus cum Theseus Hippolytum perdidit, cum ter optandi a Neptuno patre habuisset potestatem:”

[3.77]
“poetarum ista sunt, nos autem philosophi esse volumus, rerum auctores non fabularum. atque hi tamen ipsi di poetici, si scissent perniciosa fore illa filiis, peccasse in beneficio putarentur. Et si verum est quod Aristo Chius dicere solebat, nocere audientibus philosophos is qui bene dicta male interpretarentur (posse enim asotos ex Aristippi, acerbos e Zenonis schola exire)—prorsus, si qui audierunt vitiosi essent discessuri, quod perverse philosophorum disputationem interpretarentur, tacere praestaret philosophis quam iis qui se audissent nocere;”

[3.78]
“sic, si homines rationem bono consilio a dis immortalibus datam in fraudem malitiamque convertunt, non dari illam quam dari humano generi melius fuit. Ut si medicus sciat eum aegrotum, qui iussus sit vinum sumere, meracius sumpturum statimque periturum, magna sit in culpa, sic vestra ista Providentia reprendenda, quae rationem dederit is quos scierit ea perverse et inprobe ussuros. Nisi forte dicitis eam nescisse. Utinam quidem; sed non audebitis, non enim ignoro quanti eius nomen putetis.”

[3.79]
“Sed hic quidem locus concludi iam potest. nam si stultitia consensu omnium philosophorum maius est malum quam si omnia mala et fortunae et corporis ex altera parte ponantur, sapientiam autem nemo adsequitur, in summis malis omnes sumus, quibus vos optume consultum a dis inmortalibus dicitis. nam ut nihil interest utrum nemo valeat an nemo possit valere, sic non intellego quid intersit utrum nemo sit sapiens an nemo esse possit.”

“Ac nos quidem nimis multa de re apertissuma; Telamo autem uno versu totum locum conficit cur di homines neglegant:
nam si curent, bene bonis sit, male malis; quod nunc abest.
debebant illi quidem omnis bonos efficere, si quidem hominum generi consulebant;”

[3.80]
“sin id minus, bonis quidem certe consulere debebant. Cur igitur duo Scipiones fortissimos et optimos viros in Hispania Poenus oppressit, cur Maximus extulit filium consularem, cur Marcellum Annibal interemit, cur Paulum Cannae sustulerunt, cur Poenorum crudelitati Reguli corpus est praebitum, cur Africanum domestici parietes non texerunt? Sed haec vetera et alia permulta; propiora videamus. cur avunculus meus vir innocentissumus idemque doctissumus P. Rutilius in exilio est, cur sodalis meus interfectus domi suae Drusus, cur temperantiae prudentiaeque specimen ante simulacrum Vestae pontifex maximus est Q. Scaevola trucidatus, cur ante etiam tot civitatis principes a Cinna interempti, cur omnium perfidiosissimus C. Marius Q. Catulum praestantissuma dignitate virum mori potuit iubere?”

[3.81]
“Dies deficiat si velim numerare quibus bonis male evenerit, nec minus si commemorem quibus improbis optime. Cur enim Marius tam feliciter septimum consul domi suae senex est mortuus, cur omnium crudelissimus tam diu Cinna regnavit? “At dedit poenas.” Prohiberi melius fuit impedirique ne tot summos viros interficeret quam ipsum aliquando poenas dare. Summo cruciatu supplicioque Q. Varius homo importunissumus periit; si quia Drusum ferro Metellum veneno sustulerat, illos conservari melius fuit quam poenas sceleris Varium pendere. Duodequadraginta Dionysius tyrannus annos fuit opulentissumae et beatissumae civitatis;”

[3.82]
“quam multos ante hunc in ipso Graeciae flore Pisistratus. “At Phalaris, at Apollodorus poenas sustulit.” Multis quidem ante cruciatis et necatis. Et praedones multi saepe poenas dant, nec tamen possumus dicere non pluris captivos acerbe quam praedones necatos. Anaxarchum Democriteum a Cyprio tyranno excarnificatum accepimus, Zenonem Eleatem in tormentis necatum; quid dicam de Socrate, cuius morti inlacrimare soleo Platonem legens? Videsne igitur deorum iudicio, si vident res humanas, discrimen esse sublatum?”

[3.83]
“Diogenes quidem Cynicus dicere solebat Harpalum, qui temporibus illis praedo felix habebatur, contra deos testimonium dicere, quod in illa fortuna tam diu viveret. Dionysius, de quo ante dixi, cum fanum Proserpinae Locris expilavisset, navigabat Syracusas; isque cum secundissumo vento cursum teneret, ridens “videtisne” inquit “amici quam bona a dis inmortalibus navigatio sacrilegis detur”. atque homo acutus cum bene planeque percepisset, in eadem sententia perseverabat. qui quom ad Peloponnesum classem appulisset et in fanum venisset Iovis Olympii, aureum ei detraxit amiculum grandi pondere, quo Iovem ornarat e manubiis Carthaginiensium tyrannus Gelo, atque in eo etiam cavillatus est aestate grave esse aureum amiculum hieme frigidum, eique laneum pallium iniecit, cum id esse ad omne anni tempus diceret. idemque Aesculapi Epidauri barbam auream demi iussit; neque enim convenire barbatum esse filium, cum in omnibus fanis pater imberbis esset.”

[3.84]
“iam mensas argenteas de omnibus delubris iussit auferri, in quibus quod more veteris Graeciae inscriptum esset “bonorum deorum”, uti se eorum bonitate velle dicebat. idem Victoriolas aureas et pateras coronasque, quae simulacrorum porrectis manibus sustinebantur, sine dubitatione tollebat eaque se accipere non auferre dicebat; esse enim stultitiam a quibus bona precaremur ab is porrigentibus et dantibus nolle sumere. eundemque ferunt haec quae dixi sublata de fanis in forum protulisse et per praeconem vendidisse exactaque pecunia edixisse ut quod quisque a sacris haberet id ante diem certam in suum quicque fanum referret: ita ad impietatem in deos in homines adiunxit iniuriam. Hunc igitur nec Olympius Iuppiter fulmine percussit nec Aesculapius misero diuturnoque morbo tabescentem interemit, atque in suo lectulo mortuus in †tyrannidis rogum inlatus est, eamque potestatem, quam ipse per scelus erat nanctus, quasi iustam et legitimam hereditatis loco filio tradidit.”

[3.85]
“Invita in hoc loco versatur oratio, videtur enim auctoritatem adferre peccandi; recte videretur, nisi et virtutis et vitiorum sine ulla divina ratione grave ipsius conscientiae pondus esset, qua sublata iacent omnia. ut enim nec domus nec res publica ratione quadam et disciplina dissignata videatur, si in ea nec recte factis praemia extent ulla nec supplicia peccatis, sic mundi divina in homines moderatio profecto nulla est, si in ea discrimen nullum est bonorum et malorum.”

[3.86]
““At enim minora di neglegunt, neque agellos singulorum nec viticulas persequuntur, nec, si uredo aut grando cuipiam nocuit, id Iovi animadvertendum fuit; ne in regnis quidem reges omnia minima curant”: sic enim dicitis. Quasi ego paulo ante de fundo Formiano P. Rutili sim questus non de amissa salute. Atque hoc quidem omnes mortales sic habent, externas commoditates, vineta segetes oliveta, ubertatem frugum et fructuum, omnem denique commoditatem prosperitatemque vitae a dis se habere; virtutem autem nemo umquam acceptam deo rettulit.”

[3.87]
“nimirum recte; propter virtutem enim iure laudamur et in virtute recte gloriamur; quod non contingeret, si id donum a deo non a nobis haberemus. at vero aut honoribus aucti aut re familiari, aut si aliud quippiam nacti sumus fortuiti boni aut depulimus mali, tum dis gratias agimus, tum nihil nostrae laudi adsumptum arbitramur. num quis quod bonus vir esset gratias dis egit umquam? at quod dives quod honoratus quod incolumis, Iovemque optimum et maximum ob eas res appellant, non quod nos iustos temperantes sapientes efficiat, sed quod salvos incolumis opulentos copiosos;”

[3.88]
“neque Herculi quisquam decumam vovit umquam, si sapiens factus esset—quamquam Pythagoras, cum in geometria quiddam novi invenisset, Musis bovem immolavisse dicitur; sed id quidem non credo, quoniam ille ne Apollini quidem Deli hostiam immolare voluit, ne aram sanguine aspergeret. ad rem autem ut redeam, iudicium hoc omnium mortalium est, fortunam a deo petendam, a se ipso sumendam esse sapientiam. quamvis licet Menti delubra et Virtuti et Fidei consecremus, tamen haec in nobis ipsis sita videmus; spei salutis opis victoriae facultas a dis expetenda est.”

“Inproborum igitur prosperitates secundaeque res redarguunt, ut Diogenes dicebat, vim omnem deorum ac potestatem.”

[3.89]
““At non numquam bonos exitus habent boni.” Eos quidem arripimus adtribuimusque sine ulla ratione dis inmortalibus. at Diagoras cum Samothracam venisset Atheus ille qui dicitur, atque ei quidam amicus “tu, qui deos putas humana neglegere, nonne animadvertis ex tot tabulis pictis, quam multi votis vim tempestatis effugerint in portumque salvi pervenerint”, “ita fit” inquit, “illi enim nusquam picti sunt qui naufragia fecerunt in marique perierunt”. idemque, cum ei naviganti vectores adversa tempestate timidi et perterriti dicerent non iniuria sibi illud accidere qui illum in eandem navem recepissent, ostendit eis in eodem cursu multas alias laborantis quaesivitque num etiam in is navibus Diagoram vehi crederent. Sic enim res se habet, ut ad prosperam adversamve fortunam qualis sis aut quem ad modum vixeris nihil intersit.”

[3.90]
““Non animadvertunt” inquit “omnia di, ne reges quidem”. Quid est simile; reges enim si scientes praetermittunt, magna culpa est; at deo ne excusatio quidem est inscientiae. Quem vos praeclare defenditis, cum dicitis eam vim deorum esse, ut etiam si quis morte poenas sceleris effugerit expetantur eae poenae a liberis a nepotibus a posteris. O miram aequitatem deorum: ferretne civitas ulla latorem istius modi legis, ut condemnaretur filius aut nepos, si pater aut avus deliquisset?
quinam Tantalidarum internecioni modus

paretur, aut quaenam umquam ob mortem Myrtili

poenis luendis dabitur satias supplici?”

[3.91]
“Utrum poetae Stoicos depravarint an Stoici poetis dederint auctoritatem non facile dixerim; portenta enim ab utrisque et flagitia dicuntur. neque enim quem Hipponactis iambus laeserat aut qui erat Archilochi versu volneratus a deo immissum dolorem non conceptum a se ipso continebat, nec cum Aegisthi libidinem aut cum Paridis videmus a deo causam requirimus, cum culpae paene vocem audiamus, nec ego multorum aegrorum salutem non ab Hippocrate potius quam ab Aesculapio datam iudico, nec Lacedaemoniorum disciplinam dicam umquam ab Apolline potius Spartae quam a Lycurgo datam. Critolaus inquam evertit Corinthum, Carthaginem Asdrubal; hi duo illos oculos orae maritumae effoderunt, non iratus aliqui, quem omnino irasci posse negatis, deus.”

[3.92]
“At subvenire certe potuit et conservare urbis tantas atque talis; vos enim ipsi dicere soletis nihil esse quod deus efficere non possit, et quidem sine labore ullo; ut enim hominum membra nulla contentione mente ipsa ac voluntate moveantur, sic numine deorum omnia fingi moveri mutarique posse. neque id dicitis superstitiose atque aniliter sed physica constantique ratione; materiam enim rerum, ex qua et in qua omnia sint, totam esse flexibilem et commutabilem, ut nihil sit quod non ex ea quamvis subito fingi convertique possit, eius autem universae fictricem et moderatricem divinam esse providentiam; haec igitur quocumque se moveat, efficere posse quicquid velit. Itaque aut nescit quid possit, aut neglegit res humanas, aut quid sit optimum non potest iudicare.”

[3.93]
““Non curat singulos homines.” Non mirum: ne civitates quidem; non eas: ne nationes quidem et gentis. quod si has etiam contemnet, quid mirum est omne ab ea genus humanum esse contemptum?”

“Sed quo modo idem dicitis non omnia deos persequi, idem voltis a diis inmortalibus hominibus dispertiri ac dividi somnia (idcirco haec tecum, quia vestra est de somniorum veritate sententia), atque idem etiam vota suscipi dicitis oportere? Nempe singuli vovent, audit igitur mens divina etiam de singulis; videtis ergo non esse eam tam occupatam quam putabatis. Fac esse distentam, caelum versantem terram tuentem maria moderantem: cur tam multos deos nihil agere et cessare patitur, cur non rebus humanis aliquos otiosos deos praeficit, qui a te Balbe innumerabiles explicati sunt?”

“Haec fere dicere habui de natura deorum, non ut eam tollerem sed ut intellegeretis quam esset obscura et quam difficiles explicatus haberet.”

[3.94]
Quae cum dixisset, Cotta finem. Lucilius autem “Vehementius” inquit “Cotta tu quidem invectus es in eam Stoicorum rationem quae de providentia deorum ab illis sanctissume et prudentissume constituta est. sed quoniam advesperascit, dabis nobis diem aliquem ut contra ista dicamus. est enim mihi tecum pro aris et focis certamen et pro deorum templis atque delubris proque urbis muris, quos vos pontifices sanctos esse dicitis diligentiusque urbem religione quam ipsis moenibus cingitis; quae deseri a me, dum quidem spirare potero, nefas iudico.”

[3.95]
Tum Cotta: “Ego vero et opto redargui me Balbe, et ea quae disputavi disserere malui quam iudicare, et facile me a te vinci posse certo scio.”

“Quippe” inquit Velleius “qui etiam somnia putet ad nos mitti ab Iove, quae ipsa tamen tam levia non sunt quam est Stoicorum de natura deorum oratio.”

Haec cum essent dicta, ita discessimus, ut Velleio Cottae disputatio verior, mihi Balbi ad veritatis similitudinem videretur esse propensior.

## Translation — Mouseia

> Complete machine-assisted Musean translation directly from the Latin of all three books in Plasberg's 1917 edition, independently drafted and reviewed against the source. The Perseus transcription is credited to Tufts University and its contributors under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source lacunae remain visible; daggers mark uncertain readings. Later-author fragments placed within 3.65 by this witness remain in their supplied order.

### Book 1

[1.1]
Many matters in philosophy have still received no adequate explanation; but the question of the nature of the gods, Brutus—as you know very well—is especially difficult and obscure, though supremely rewarding for the mind to understand and essential to the proper ordering of religion. The profound differences and disagreements among the most learned men on this subject should themselves furnish powerful evidence that the starting point of philosophy […] knowledge, and that the Academics were wise to withhold assent where things are uncertain. For what is more shameful than rashness? And what is so rash, so unworthy of a wise man’s dignity and steadfastness, as either holding a false belief or defending without any hesitation something not sufficiently examined, apprehended, and understood?

[1.2]
In this inquiry, for instance, most thinkers have affirmed that gods exist: that is the most probable view, and the one to which we all come †under nature’s guidance. Protagoras said that he was uncertain; Diagoras of Melos and Theodorus of Cyrene thought that no gods existed at all. Yet those who affirmed their existence differ and disagree so greatly that it would be an endless undertaking to enumerate their opinions. Many accounts are given of the gods’ forms, their dwelling places and abodes, and their manner of life, and philosophers dispute these matters with the sharpest disagreement. Above all, on the point that contains the heart of the question—whether the gods do nothing, undertake nothing, and remain wholly free of the care and management of affairs, or whether, on the contrary, they made and established everything at the beginning and govern and move everything through infinite time—the disagreement is profound. Unless this is settled, humanity must remain in the deepest error and in ignorance of the most important things.

[1.3]
For there are, and have been, philosophers who believe that the gods exercise no care whatever over human affairs. If their opinion is true, what place can there be for piety, holiness, or religion? All these must be offered in purity and innocence to the divine power, but only if the gods notice them and if the immortal gods have bestowed something upon the human race. If, however, the gods neither can nor wish to help us, take no interest in us at all, do not observe what we do, and can impart nothing to human life, why should we offer the immortal gods any worship, honors, or prayers? Piety, like the other virtues, cannot exist in the outward show of a false pretense; and with it holiness and religion must also disappear. Their removal brings disorder and great confusion into life;

[1.4]
and I am inclined to think that removing piety toward the gods would also remove good faith, the fellowship of the human race, and justice, the one preeminent virtue. But there are other philosophers, great and distinguished men, who believe that the whole universe is ordered and governed by divine intelligence and reason. Nor is that all: they also believe that the gods take thought for human life and provide for it. Crops and everything else the earth produces, the weather and the changing seasons, the alterations of the sky through which everything born of the earth ripens and matures—all these, they think, are the immortal gods’ gifts to humanity. They assemble many other arguments, to be discussed in these books, of such a kind that the immortal gods seem almost to have fashioned these very things for human use. Against these thinkers Carneades argued at such length as to awaken in anyone not altogether sluggish a passion to investigate the truth.

[1.5]
For on no subject do not only the unlearned but even the learned disagree so greatly. Their opinions are so various and so much at odds that it is certainly possible that none of them is true, but certainly impossible that more than one is.

On this issue we can both reconcile our well-disposed critics and refute our malicious detractors, so that the latter regret their attacks and the former rejoice in having learned something. Those who offer friendly warnings deserve instruction; those who pursue us with hostility must be repelled.

[1.6]
I see that much discussion has arisen about the several books I have published in a short time. Some wonder where this sudden enthusiasm for philosophy came from; others want to know what settled opinions I hold on each subject. Many, I have noticed, also find it surprising that I have chosen above all a philosophy that takes away the light and seems to spread a kind of night over things, and that I have unexpectedly undertaken the defense of a school deserted and long abandoned. But I did not suddenly begin to philosophize. From my earliest years I have devoted no small measure of effort and attention to that pursuit, and I was philosophizing most when I seemed to be doing so least. My speeches, filled with philosophers’ thoughts, bear witness to this, as do my friendships with the learned men whose company has always enriched my house, and those eminent teachers under whom I studied: Diodotus, Philo, Antiochus, and Posidonius.

[1.7]
And if all the precepts of philosophy concern life, I believe that in both public and private affairs I have practiced what reason and learning prescribed. But if anyone asks what prompted me to commit these matters to writing so late, nothing is easier for me to explain. When enforced inactivity had left me dispirited, and the condition of the republic was such that it had necessarily to be governed by the counsel and care of a single man, I thought, first, that for the republic’s own sake I should explain philosophy to our people. I considered it of great importance to our country’s dignity and renown that matters so weighty and so noble should also find expression in Latin literature.

[1.8]
I regret this undertaking all the less because I readily perceive how many people I have inspired not merely to study but to write. Many men educated in Greek learning could not share what they had learned with their fellow citizens, because they doubted that what they had received from the Greeks could be expressed in Latin. In this field we seem to have made such progress that the Greeks do not surpass us even in richness of vocabulary.

[1.9]
Another impulse toward this work was the anguish of mind caused by a great and grievous blow of fortune. Had I been able to find some greater relief, I would not have sought refuge chiefly here. Yet there was no way I could better enjoy that very relief than by devoting myself not merely to reading books but to a thorough study of the whole of philosophy. All its parts and branches are most easily understood when entire questions are unfolded in writing. For there is a wonderful continuity and sequence in these matters: one seems linked to another, and all fitted and bound together.

[1.10]
Those who ask what I myself think about each subject show more curiosity than they need. In argument we should seek the weight of reasons, not of authority. Indeed, the authority of those who profess to teach often harms those who wish to learn: they cease to exercise their own judgment and take as settled whatever they see has been decided by the person they approve. Nor do I commend the practice attributed to the Pythagoreans. When they asserted something in discussion and were asked why it was so, they reportedly used to answer, “He himself said it”; “he himself” was Pythagoras. So powerful was a preconceived opinion that authority prevailed even without reason.

[1.11]
As for those surprised that I have chosen this particular school, I think I have answered them adequately in my four books on Academic philosophy. Nor have I undertaken the defense of something deserted and abandoned. Opinions do not perish when their authors die, though perhaps they miss the illumination of a great exponent. Thus this philosophical method of arguing against every position and passing no explicit judgment on anything, which began with Socrates, was revived by Arcesilaus, and strengthened by Carneades, flourished down to our own age. I understand that in Greece itself it is now almost orphaned. This, I think, has happened through human sluggishness, not through any fault of the Academy. For if mastering a single school is a great achievement, how much greater to master them all! Yet this is necessary for those whose purpose is to speak both against and for every philosopher in order to discover the truth.

[1.12]
I do not claim to have attained the capacity for an undertaking so great and difficult; I openly acknowledge that I have pursued it. Nor, however, can those who philosophize by this method have nothing to follow. I have discussed this subject more carefully elsewhere, but some people are so slow and unwilling to learn that they seem to need repeated reminders. We are not people who think nothing true, but people who maintain that every truth has certain falsehoods attached to it, so similar that they provide no sure mark by which to judge and assent. From this follows the further conclusion that many things are probable: although they cannot be grasped with certainty, they have a distinctive and vivid appearance, and the wise man’s life may be guided by them.

[1.13]
But now, to free myself from all ill will, I shall set the philosophers’ opinions on the nature of the gods before the public. Here, surely, everyone should be summoned to judge which of these opinions is true. Only then will the Academy seem presumptuous to me—if all agree, or if someone is found who has discovered what is true. And so I feel like crying out, as in The Young Companions:
To the good faith of the gods, all my fellow citizens, all the young,

I cry, appeal, implore, entreat, weep, and plead!
Not over some utterly trivial matter, as when the character complains that capital crimes are being committed in the city: “A courtesan refuses money from her devoted lover”;

[1.14]
but so that they may attend, examine, and consider what we should think about religion, piety, holiness, ceremonies, good faith, and the oath; about temples, shrines, and solemn sacrifices; about the auspices themselves, over which we preside. All these matters must be referred to this inquiry into the immortal gods. Surely so great a disagreement among the most learned men on a matter of supreme importance will force even those who think they possess certainty to feel some doubt.

[1.15]
I have often noticed this, but never more clearly than when the immortal gods were discussed with remarkable care and precision at the house of my friend Gaius Cotta. During the Latin Festival I went there at his invitation and request, and found him sitting in a recess, debating with the senator Gaius Velleius, whom the Epicureans then regarded as the foremost Roman of their school. Quintus Lucilius Balbus was also present. He had made such progress in Stoicism that he could be compared with the outstanding Greeks in that field.

When Cotta saw me, he said, “You have come at just the right moment. A dispute on a great subject is arising between Velleius and me, and in view of your interests it is fitting that you should take part.”

[1.16]
“Yes,” I said, “I too think I have arrived at the right moment, as you say. Here are three leading representatives of three schools. If Marcus Piso were here, no philosophy—at least none of those held in honor—would lack a place.”

“If the book our friend Antiochus recently sent to Balbus speaks the truth,” Cotta replied, “you have no reason to miss your friend Piso. Antiochus thinks the Stoics and Peripatetics agree in substance and differ only in words. I should like to know what you think of that book, Balbus.”

“What do I think?” he said. “I am surprised that Antiochus, a man of exceptional acuteness, failed to see the immense difference between the Stoics, who separate moral goodness from advantages not in name but in their entire nature, and the Peripatetics, who blend moral goodness with advantages, making them differ in magnitude and, so to speak, degree rather than in kind. This is no small disagreement about words, but an enormous disagreement about things. However, another time for that; now, if you please, let us return to what we began.”

[1.17]
“By all means,” said Cotta. Then, looking at me: “But so that our new arrival may know what is being discussed, our subject was the nature of the gods. Since it seemed to me profoundly obscure, as it always does, I was asking Velleius for Epicurus’s opinion. So, Velleius, if it is no trouble, repeat what you had begun.”

“Certainly I shall, though this man has come to help you, not me. Both of you,” he added with a smile, “learned from the same Philo to know nothing.”

Then I said, “Let Cotta answer for what we learned. But do not suppose I have come as his supporter rather than as a listener—and an impartial listener, free to judge, bound by no obligation to defend a fixed opinion whether I wish to or not.”

[1.18]
Then Velleius, with all the confidence his school customarily displays, fearing nothing so much as the appearance of doubt on any subject, and sounding as though he had just descended from the council of the gods and Epicurus’s spaces between worlds, began: “Listen, not to idle inventions of opinion; not to Plato’s god from the Timaeus, that craftsman and builder of the universe; not to the Stoics’ prophetic old woman Pronoia, whom we may call Providence in Latin; nor to the universe itself, endowed with mind and senses, that round, burning, revolving god. These are prodigies and marvels dreamed by philosophers, not reasoned out by them.

[1.19]
“With what eyes of the mind could your Plato have viewed that workshop for so great a construction, in which he has his god put together and build the universe? What were the labors, the tools, the levers, the machines, the assistants for so great an undertaking? How could air, fire, water, and earth obey and submit to the architect’s will? Where did those five forms originate from which everything else is shaped, falling together so aptly as to affect the mind and produce sensations? It would take too long to discuss every detail of a scheme that seems more a matter of wishes than discoveries.

[1.20]
“But the crowning touch is this: after presenting the universe not merely as something born, but as something almost made by hand, he declared that it would last forever. Do you think a man has tasted even the first drop of natural philosophy—that is, the account of nature—if he thinks anything that has come into being can be eternal? What combination cannot be dissolved? What has a beginning but no end? And if your Providence, Lucilius, is the same as his, I ask for what I asked just now: the assistants, the machines, the entire plan and equipment of the whole enterprise. If it is different, why did it make the universe mortal, rather than everlasting, as Plato’s god did?”

[1.21]
“Of both I ask why they suddenly emerged as builders of the universe, after sleeping through countless ages. For the absence of a universe did not mean the absence of ages. By ages I do not now mean those completed by the tally of days and nights and the yearly courses; I admit that these could not have existed without the revolution of the universe. But there was an eternity stretching back through infinite time, measured by no division of time, yet intelligible in its extent. For we cannot even conceive that there was

[1.22]
a time when there was no time. In that immeasurable expanse, then, I ask you, Balbus, why was your Providence idle? Was it avoiding labor? But labor does not touch a god; nor was there any, when all nature—heaven, fires, lands, and seas—obeyed the divine will. And why should a god desire to adorn the universe with figures and lights, like an aedile decorating the city? To improve his own dwelling? Evidently, then, he had previously spent infinite time in darkness, as though in a hovel. And afterward? Are we to suppose he delighted in the variety with which we see heaven and earth adorned? What pleasure could that give a god? If it could, he could not have gone without it so long.

[1.23]
“Or was all this established by god for humanity’s sake, as you generally say? For the wise? Then this vast construction was undertaken for a handful of people. For fools? In the first place, there was no reason to do good to the wicked. And then, what did he accomplish? All fools are undoubtedly utterly wretched, first because they are fools—for what can we call more wretched than folly?—and then because life contains so many hardships that the wise soften by balancing them against its advantages, while fools can neither avoid those approaching nor endure those present. As for those who declared the universe itself a living and wise being, they utterly failed to see what sort of form could accommodate an intelligent mind. I shall speak of that shortly; for now I shall say only this:

[1.24]
“I marvel at the dullness of those who insist that a living being, immortal and blessed, is round because Plato says no shape is more beautiful. To me, a cylinder, a square, a cone, or a pyramid seems more beautiful. And what life is assigned to this round god? Naturally, he is to whirl at a speed whose equal cannot even be imagined. Amid this I cannot see where a steadfast mind or blessed life could find a footing. And if something would be painful when manifested in the smallest part of our bodies, why should it not also be considered painful in a god? The earth, after all, being part of the universe, is also part of the god. Yet we see immense regions of the earth uninhabitable and uncultivated: some are scorched by the sun’s approach, others frozen with snow and frost by its distant withdrawal. If the universe is a god, these regions, being parts of the universe, must be regarded as limbs of the god, some burning, others chilled.

[1.25]
“So much for your doctrines, Lucilius. As for the character of […] I shall begin with the earliest of the predecessors. Thales of Miletus, the first to inquire into such matters, said that water was the origin of things and god the mind that fashioned everything from water—if gods can exist without sensation! And why did he attach mind to water, if mind itself can subsist without a body? Anaximander’s opinion was that the gods are born, rising and passing away at long intervals, and that they are innumerable worlds. But how can we conceive a god who is not eternal?

[1.26]
“After him Anaximenes declared air to be god, saying that it comes into being, is immeasurable and infinite, and is always in motion—as though air without any shape could be a god, especially when a god ought to possess not merely some form but the most beautiful; or as though mortality did not follow everything that has had a birth. Next Anaxagoras, who learned from Anaximenes, was the first to maintain that the ordering and arrangement of all things were designed and accomplished by the power and reason of an infinite mind. He failed to see that in the infinite there can be no continuous movement joined to sensation, and indeed no sensation at all unless nature itself is struck and feels the impact. Besides, if he intended this mind to be a kind of living creature, it must contain something within that would make it a living creature. But what could lie farther within than mind? Then let it be enclosed by an external body.

[1.27]
“Since that does not please him, a bare and simple mind, with nothing attached to it, capable of sensation, seems beyond the reach of our understanding and conception. Alcmaeon of Croton, who assigned divinity to the sun, moon, and other heavenly bodies, and also to the soul, did not perceive that he was granting immortality to mortal things. Pythagoras, who thought a soul extended and moved throughout all nature, from which our souls were plucked, did not see that the detachment of human souls would tear and rend the god; and that when souls were unhappy, as happens to most, part of the god would be unhappy—which is impossible.

[1.28]
“And why should a human soul be ignorant of anything if it were a god? Again, how could that god, if it were nothing but soul, be fixed in the universe or poured through it? Xenophanes held that, besides attaching mind to it, all that is infinite is god. On mind he will incur the same criticism as the others; on infinity a still sharper one, for in it nothing can have either sensation or coherence. Parmenides invented something quite imaginary: a crownlike structure—he calls it a stephanē, a wreath—an unbroken ring of blazing light encircling heaven, which he calls god. No one can suspect either a divine form or sensation in it. He has many other monstrosities of the same sort, since he refers war, discord, desire, and the like to divinity, though these are destroyed by sickness, sleep, forgetfulness, or time. His similar doctrines about the stars have already been criticized in another thinker; let them pass here.

[1.29]
“Empedocles, wrong on many other matters, goes most shamefully astray in his opinion of the gods. He holds that the four elements of which he thinks everything composed are divine, although it is plain that they come into being, perish, and lack all sensation. Protagoras, too, who declares that he has no clear knowledge at all about the gods—whether they exist or not, or what they are like—seems not to have the faintest idea of their nature. And Democritus? He numbers among the gods now images and their movements, now the substance that pours out and emits those images, now our own thought and understanding. Is he not deeply mistaken? Moreover, when he denies that anything is everlasting, on the ground that nothing always remains in the same condition, does he not abolish god altogether, leaving no conception of him remaining? And what sensation or divine form can air possess, the god adopted by Diogenes of Apollonia?

[1.30]
“It would take too long to discuss Plato’s inconsistency. In the Timaeus he denies that the father of this universe can be named; in the Laws he thinks we ought not to inquire at all what god is. Moreover, he wants god to be without any body—incorporeal, as the Greeks say—but what such a being could be is unintelligible. It must lack sensation, practical wisdom, and pleasure, all of which we include in our conception of the gods. Yet both in the Timaeus and in the Laws he says that the universe, heaven, the stars, the earth, souls, and those gods handed down by ancestral tradition are divine. These assertions are plainly false in themselves and violently at odds with one another.”

[1.31]
“Xenophon, too, makes almost the same mistakes in fewer words. In his account of Socrates’ sayings he has Socrates argue that we should not inquire into god’s form, and yet call both the sun and the soul god, speaking now of one god and now of several. These involve nearly the same errors as those I mentioned in Plato.

[1.32]
“Antisthenes, in the book entitled On Nature, says there are many gods of popular belief but one god of nature, thereby doing away with the power and nature of the gods. Much the same is true of Speusippus, who follows his uncle Plato: by declaring that a certain animate power governs everything, he tries to uproot the knowledge of the gods from our minds.

[1.33]
“Aristotle, in the third book of On Philosophy, introduces much confusion in disagreeing with his master Plato. At one time he assigns all divinity to mind; at another he calls the universe itself god; at another he places someone else over the universe, assigning him the task of governing and maintaining its motion by a kind of reverse rotation. Then he calls the heat of heaven god, not realizing that heaven is part of the universe, which he himself elsewhere designated god. How can that divine consciousness of heaven be preserved at such speed? And where are all those other gods, if we count heaven too as a god? When, again, he makes god incorporeal, he deprives him of all sensation, and of wisdom too. Besides, how can the universe move without a body, or how can it be tranquil and blessed if it is always moving?

[1.34]
“His fellow student Xenocrates is no wiser in this matter. His books On the Nature of the Gods describe no divine form. He says there are eight gods: five are those called wandering stars; one is to be regarded as a single god formed from all the fixed stars in heaven, like scattered limbs; he adds the sun as the seventh and the moon as the eighth. What sensation could make these blessed is incomprehensible. Heraclides of Pontus, from the same school of Plato, filled his books with childish fables. Yet he considers now the universe, now mind divine; he also grants divinity to the wandering stars, deprives god of sensation, and makes his form changeable. In the same book he again counts earth and heaven among the gods.

[1.35]
“Theophrastus’s inconsistency is intolerable as well. At one time he assigns divine sovereignty to mind, at another to heaven, and then to the constellations and stars. Nor should we listen to his student Strato, called the natural philosopher. He holds that all divine power resides in nature, which contains the causes of birth, growth, and diminution, but lacks all sensation and form.

[1.36]
“Zeno—to come now to your people, Balbus—thinks natural law divine, possessing the power to command right actions and forbid their opposites. How he makes this law a living being we cannot understand; yet we certainly want a god to be alive. Elsewhere the same man calls the ether god—if a god without sensation is conceivable, one who never comes before our minds in prayers, wishes, or vows. In other books he considers a certain reason permeating the whole natural world to be endowed with divine power. He attributes the same to the stars, then to years, months, and the changing seasons. When he interprets Hesiod’s Theogony, or Birth of the Gods, he entirely removes our familiar, established conceptions of the gods. For he does not count Jupiter, Juno, Vesta, or anyone bearing such names among the gods, but teaches that these names have been assigned, with a certain symbolic meaning, to lifeless and speechless things.

[1.37]
“His pupil Aristo’s opinion is no less deeply mistaken. He holds that god’s form cannot be conceived, denies sensation to the gods, and doubts altogether whether god is alive. Cleanthes, who attended Zeno along with the man I just mentioned, now calls the universe itself god, now assigns the name to the mind and soul of all nature, now judges that the ultimate, highest fire, spread around everything, encircling and embracing everything at its outermost limit—the fire called ether—is most certainly god. In the books he wrote against pleasure he seems delirious: now he invents a certain shape and appearance for the gods, now assigns all divinity to the stars, now thinks nothing more divine than reason. Thus the god whom we recognize in thought, and wish to lodge in the mind’s conception as though in his proper resting place, appears nowhere at all. Persaeus, another pupil of Zeno, says that those who discovered something greatly useful for civilized life were regarded as gods, and that useful and beneficial things themselves were called by divine names. He would not even say that these were discoveries of the gods, but that they were themselves divine.

[1.38]
“What could be more absurd than either honoring shabby and ugly things as gods or placing among the gods men already destroyed by death, whose entire worship would consist of mourning?

[1.39]
“Chrysippus, considered the shrewdest interpreter of Stoic dreams, assembles a great crowd of unknown gods—so unknown that we cannot even frame a conjectural image of them, though our minds seem able to picture anything in thought. He says divine power resides in reason and in the soul and mind of universal nature. He calls the universe itself god, and the whole diffusion of its soul; then its ruling principle, residing in intelligence and reason; the universal common nature that embraces all things; then the fated †shadow and necessity of future events; and fire, and the ether I mentioned earlier. Then he includes the things that naturally flow and spread—water, earth, and air—the sun, moon, stars, and the totality in which everything is contained; and also those men who have attained immortality.

[1.40]
“He further argues that the ether is what people call Jupiter; that the air flowing through the seas is Neptune; and that the earth is what is called Ceres. He works through the names of the other gods in a similar fashion. He also says that Jupiter is the force of perpetual and eternal law, a kind of guide to life and teacher of duties, and calls this same force fated necessity, the everlasting truth of future events. None of these things is such that divine power can be seen to reside in it.”

[1.41]
“So much for his first book On the Nature of the Gods. In the second he tries to accommodate the fables of Orpheus, Musaeus, Hesiod, and Homer to his own statements about the immortal gods in the first, so that even the most ancient poets, who never so much as dreamed of these doctrines, should appear to have been Stoics. Following him, Diogenes of Babylon, in his book entitled On Minerva, transfers Jupiter’s labor in childbirth and the maiden’s birth to natural philosophy and detaches them from myth.

[1.42]
“What I have set out is, for the most part, not philosophers’ judgments but the dreams of madmen. Nor are the stories poured out by the poets, whose very sweetness has done harm, much more absurd. They have introduced gods inflamed with anger and maddened by desire, and made us see their wars, battles, fights, and wounds; their hatred, separations, and discord; their births and deaths, complaints and lamentations; their desires unleashed in every kind of excess, their adulteries and chains, their couplings with human beings, and mortal children born of an immortal parent.

[1.43]
“With the poets’ error we may associate the monstrous tales of the Magi and the Egyptians’ madness in the same field, as well as popular opinions, which waver in the deepest inconsistency and ignorance of truth.

“Anyone considering how thoughtlessly and rashly these claims are made should revere Epicurus and count him among those very beings who are the subject of this inquiry. For he alone saw, first, that gods exist, because nature herself had impressed the conception of them on everyone’s mind. What nation, what race of people, lacks without instruction a certain anticipation of the gods? Epicurus calls this prolēpsis: a conception of something already present in the mind, without which nothing can be understood, investigated, or discussed. The force and usefulness of this principle we have learned from that heavenly book of Epicurus on the standard and criterion of judgment.

[1.44]
“You see, then, how splendidly the foundation of this inquiry has been laid. Since the belief was established by no convention, custom, or law, and the agreement of everyone without exception remains firm, we must understand that gods exist, because we possess implanted—or rather innate—knowledge of them. What everyone’s nature agrees on must be true; therefore we must admit that gods exist. And since this is agreed by almost everyone, not only philosophers but also the unlearned, we acknowledge another agreed point: we possess this anticipation, as I called it before, or preconception of the gods. New things require new names: Epicurus himself called it prolēpsis,

[1.45]
“a word no one had used for it before. This, then, is our preconception: we consider the gods blessed and immortal. The same nature that gave us a conception of the gods themselves also engraved upon our minds the conviction that they are eternal and blessed. If that is so, Epicurus rightly stated this doctrine: whatever is blessed and eternal neither has any trouble itself nor causes any to another, and so is subject neither to anger nor to favor, since everything of that kind belongs to weakness.

“If we sought nothing but to worship the gods with piety and to free ourselves from superstition, enough would have been said. For the preeminent nature of the gods, being both eternal and supremely blessed, would receive humanity’s pious worship—whatever excels rightly deserves reverence—and all fear of divine power and anger would have been dispelled. We understand that anger and favor alike are excluded from a blessed and immortal nature; remove them, and no terrors threaten us from above. But to confirm this belief, the mind inquires into god’s form, life, and the activity and movement of his intelligence.

[1.46]
“As for form, nature partly instructs us, and reason partly teaches us. By nature, all of us in every nation conceive the gods in no form but the human. For what other form ever appears to anyone, awake or asleep? But lest everything be referred to our primary notions, reason itself demonstrates the same conclusion.

[1.47]
“For it seems fitting that the most excellent nature, whether by virtue of its blessedness or its eternity, should also be the most beautiful. What arrangement of limbs, what configuration of features, what shape or appearance can be more beautiful than the human? You Stoics, Lucilius—my friend Cotta takes now one side, now the other—when you portray divine workmanship and construction, regularly describe how everything in the human figure is adapted not only to use but also to beauty.

[1.48]
“If the human figure surpasses the form of all living creatures, and god is a living creature, surely his figure is the most beautiful of all. And since it is agreed that the gods are supremely blessed, while no one can be blessed without virtue, virtue cannot exist without reason, and reason can reside nowhere except in a human form, we must acknowledge that the gods have a human appearance.

[1.49]
“Yet this appearance is not body but something like body; it has not blood but something like blood. Although Epicurus’s discoveries here are too acute, and his account too subtle, for just anyone to grasp, I rely on your intelligence and discuss them more briefly than the subject requires. Epicurus, who not only sees hidden and deeply concealed things in his mind but handles them as though with his hand, teaches that the gods’ power and nature are perceived not by the senses but by the mind; not as something solid or numerically individual, like the things he calls solid bodies because of their firmness, but through images perceived in similarity and succession. An infinite appearance of closely similar images arises from innumerable indivisible particles and flows toward the gods; our mind, fixed and intent upon those images with the greatest pleasure, attains an understanding of what a blessed and eternal nature is.

[1.50]
“The supreme power of infinity is vast indeed, and most worthy of deep and attentive contemplation. We must understand its nature to be such that everything has its counterpart in a corresponding equal. Epicurus calls this isonomia, or equal distribution. From it follows this conclusion: if the multitude of mortals is so great, that of immortals is no smaller; and if the things that destroy are innumerable, those that preserve must also be infinite.

“You regularly ask us, Balbus, what the gods’ life is like and how they pass their time.”

[1.51]
“Clearly, it is a life than which nothing happier or richer in every blessing can be conceived. A god does nothing, is entangled in no occupations, undertakes no labor. He rejoices in his own wisdom and virtue, and knows with certainty that he will always enjoy pleasures at once supreme and eternal.

[1.52]
“We could rightly call this god blessed, but yours is burdened with work. If the universe itself is god, what can be less restful than revolving around the axis of heaven at astonishing speed without a moment’s interruption? Yet nothing without rest is blessed. Or if there is some god within the universe to direct and govern it, maintaining the courses of the stars, the changes of the seasons, the succession and order of events, watching over land and sea to safeguard human lives and interests, he is certainly entangled in troublesome and laborious business.

[1.53]
“We, however, place the blessed life in peace of mind and freedom from every duty. The same teacher who taught us everything else taught us that the universe was produced by nature, with no need of a builder. This thing that you deny can be accomplished without divine skill is so easy that nature will produce, is producing, and has produced innumerable worlds. Because you cannot see how nature can accomplish this without some intelligence, like tragic poets unable to unravel their plot, you take refuge in a god.

[1.54]
“You would certainly not require his services if you saw the immensity of space, unbounded and limitless in every direction. Launching and stretching itself into that space, the mind travels so far and wide, yet never sees a final shore on which it can come to rest. In this immensity of breadth, length, and height, an infinite host of innumerable atoms flies about. Though void lies between them, they nevertheless cling to one another, catching hold and forming connections. From these arise the shapes and forms of things that you think cannot be produced without bellows and anvils. And so you have imposed upon our necks an everlasting master whom we must fear day and night. Who would not fear a god who foresees, thinks about, and observes everything, considers everything his concern, and is inquisitive and full of business?

[1.55]
“From this arose, first, your fated necessity, which you call heimarmenē: you say that whatever happens has flowed from eternal truth and an unbroken chain of causes. What value should we place on a philosophy that, like little old women—and uneducated ones at that—thinks everything happens by fate? Next comes your mantikē, called divination in Latin. If we were willing to listen to you, it would steep us in such superstition that we would have to revere inspectors of entrails, augurs, soothsayers, prophets, and interpreters of dreams.

[1.56]
“Freed by Epicurus from these terrors and restored to liberty, we do not fear beings whom we understand neither to devise any trouble for themselves nor to seek it for others; and we worship their excellent and preeminent nature with piety and holiness.

“But my enthusiasm has carried me away, and I fear I have spoken too long. Still, it was difficult to leave so great and splendid a subject unfinished once begun—though I should have thought less about speaking than about listening.”

[1.57]
Then Cotta, with his customary courtesy, said, “But, Velleius, if you had not said something, you certainly could have heard nothing from me. The reason something is true does not usually occur to me as readily as the reason it is false. That has often happened, and it happened just now as I listened to you. Ask me to describe the nature of the gods, and perhaps I shall give no answer. Ask whether I think it such as you have just described, and I shall say that nothing seems to me less likely.

“But before I approach the arguments you advanced, I shall tell you what I think of you yourself.

[1.58]
“I believe I often heard your friend Lucius Crassus place you unquestionably above all Romans, and compare few Greek Epicureans with you. But knowing how wonderfully fond of you he was, I thought his affection had made him speak too generously. Now, although I am reluctant to praise someone to his face, I judge that you have spoken clearly about an obscure and difficult subject, not merely with an abundance of thoughts but with a greater elegance of language than your school generally displays.

[1.59]
“When I was at Athens, I frequently heard Zeno, whom our friend Philo used to call the leader of the Epicurean chorus. Indeed, Philo himself advised me to do so—so that, I suppose, after hearing the leading Epicurean explain how their doctrines were argued, I could judge more easily how well they were refuted. He spoke not like most of them, but as you do: distinctly, weightily, elegantly. Yet what often happened with him happened again just now as I listened to you: I was distressed that so great a talent—forgive my saying so—had fallen upon opinions so trivial, not to say so foolish.

[1.60]
“Nor shall I myself now offer anything better. As I said just now, on almost every subject, but especially in natural philosophy, I could more readily say what is not so than what is. Ask me what god is, or what he is like, and I shall take Simonides as my authority. When the tyrant Hiero asked him that very question, he requested one day to consider it. Asked again the next day, he requested two. When he repeatedly doubled the number of days and Hiero, in astonishment, asked why, he answered, ‘Because the longer I consider it, the more obscure the prospect seems to me.’ Simonides, I think—tradition makes him not only a delightful poet but in other respects learned and wise—had so many acute and subtle thoughts occur to him that, doubting which was truest, he despaired of finding truth at all.”

[1.61]
“But your Epicurus—for I prefer to debate with him rather than you—what does he say worthy not merely of philosophy but even of ordinary good sense?

“In an inquiry into the nature of the gods, the first question is whether gods exist or not. ‘It is difficult to deny it.’ I grant that, if the question is asked before a public assembly; but in a conversation like this, in a gathering of friends, it is very easy. Thus I myself, a pontiff who believes that public ceremonies and religious observances must be guarded with the utmost reverence, should like to be thoroughly convinced of this first point, that gods exist, not merely as a matter of opinion but as an established truth. For many disturbing considerations arise, so that at times there seem to be no gods.

[1.62]
“But see how generously I deal with you. I shall not touch doctrines you share with other philosophers, such as this very one. Almost everyone, and I myself above all, believes that gods exist. So I do not contest it; nevertheless, I think the reasoning you offer insufficiently strong. You said that the belief of people of every nation and race was a powerful enough argument for admitting the gods’ existence. But that claim is not only weak in itself; it is also false. In the first place, how do you know the opinions of the nations? I believe there are many peoples so brutalized by savagery that they have no inkling of gods.

[1.63]
“Did not Diagoras, called the Atheist, and later Theodorus openly abolish divine existence? As for Protagoras of Abdera, whom you just mentioned, perhaps the greatest sophist of his time, he began a book with these words: ‘Concerning the gods, I cannot say either that they exist or that they do not exist.’ By order of the Athenians he was banished from their city and territory, and his books were burned in the assembly. This, I think, made many people more reluctant to profess such a view, since even doubt could not escape punishment. What shall we say of the sacrilegious, the impious, and the perjurers?
If ever Lucius Tubulus,

“If Lupus, Carbo, or Neptune’s son,
“as Lucilius says, had thought there were gods, would he have been so perjured or so corrupt?

[1.64]
“So this argument is not as well established as it seems for confirming your position. But since other philosophers share it, I shall leave it aside for the present. I would rather come to doctrines peculiar to your school.

[1.65]
“I grant that gods exist. Teach me, then, where they come from, where they are, what they are like in body, mind, and life; these are the things I want to know. For every purpose you abuse the sovereign freedom of your atoms. From them you fashion and produce whatever comes into your head, as the saying goes. But in the first place there are no atoms. For nothing […] is empty of body, and every place is occupied by bodies; thus there is no void, and nothing can be indivisible.

[1.66]
“I am now pouring out the oracles of natural philosophers. Whether they are true or false I do not know, but they are nevertheless more like the truth than yours. Those scandalous claims of Democritus—or of Leucippus before him—that there are tiny bodies, some smooth, others rough, some round, others angular and hooked, some curved and, as it were, crooked; and that heaven and earth were produced from these, with no compelling natural power, but through a kind of chance collision: this is the opinion you, Gaius Velleius, have maintained to your present age. Anyone would sooner dislodge you from the whole settled course of your life than from that authority. For you decided that you ought to be an Epicurean before you learned these doctrines. Thus you had either to take these scandals into your mind or surrender the name of the philosophy you had adopted.

[1.67]
“What reward would induce you to stop being an Epicurean? ‘None,’ you say, ‘that would make me abandon the principle of a happy life and the truth.’ So this is the truth? About the happy life I make no objection, though you think even a god cannot have one unless he positively languishes in idleness. But where is the truth? In the innumerable worlds, I suppose, some coming into being and others falling apart at every tiniest instant of time? Or in indivisible particles shaping such magnificent works with no directing nature, no reason? But I am forgetting the generosity with which I began to treat you just now, and taking in too much. Let me grant, then, that everything consists of indivisible particles. What follows for our subject?

[1.68]
“For our inquiry concerns the nature of the gods. Let them be made of atoms, by all means; then they are not eternal. †Whatever is made of atoms came into being at some time. If the gods came into being, there were no gods before they were born; and if gods have a beginning, they must also have an end, as you yourself argued just now about Plato’s universe. Where, then, is your ‘blessed and eternal,’ the two words by which you define god? When you try to establish this, you crawl into a thicket. For you said that in god there is not body but something like body, not blood but something like blood.

[1.69]
“You very often do this: when you say something improbable and wish to escape criticism, you introduce something that cannot possibly happen at all. It would have been better to concede the very point in dispute than to resist so shamelessly. Thus Epicurus saw that if atoms moved downward by their own weight, nothing would be in our power, since their motion would be fixed and necessary. He discovered a way to escape necessity, something Democritus had evidently overlooked: an atom, he said, while carried straight downward by its weight and heaviness, swerves a little.

[1.70]
“It is more disgraceful to say this than to be unable to defend the position he wants. He does the same against the logicians. They teach that in every disjunction of the form ‘either yes or no,’ one alternative is true. He feared that if some statement such as ‘Epicurus will either be alive tomorrow or not be alive’ were granted, one alternative would become necessary; so he denied the necessity of the entire ‘either yes or no.’ What could be more obtuse? Arcesilaus pressed Zeno, maintaining himself that all sensory appearances were false, while Zeno said some appearances were false, not all. Epicurus feared that if one appearance were false, none would be true, and declared all the senses messengers of truth. None of this, except †very much; he took a heavier blow to ward off a lighter one.”

[1.71]
“He does the same with the nature of the gods. To avoid a combination of indivisible bodies, lest dissolution and dispersal follow, he denies that the gods have body, giving them something like body, and not blood but something like blood. People think it remarkable that one inspector of entrails does not laugh when he sees another. Is that more remarkable than your ability to keep from laughing among yourselves? ‘It is not body, but something like body.’ I could understand what that meant if it were modeled in wax or clay figures; what something like body or something like blood means in a god I cannot understand. Neither can you, Velleius; you merely refuse to admit it.

[1.72]
“You repeat like dictated lessons the things Epicurus dreamed up while yawning, though he boasted, as we see in his writings, that he had no teacher. I should readily believe that even without his boasting, just as I would believe the owner of a badly built house who boasted that he had employed no architect. For there is not a trace here of the Academy, not a trace of the Lyceum, not even of a child’s schooling. He could have heard Xenocrates—what a man, immortal gods!—and some think he did. He himself denies it; I believe him—I could believe no one more. He says he heard a certain Pamphilus, a pupil of Plato, at Samos. As a young man he lived there with his father and brothers, because his father Neocles had gone there to obtain an allotment of land; but since the little farm did not support him adequately, I suppose, he became a schoolmaster.

[1.73]
“But Epicurus treats this Platonist with extraordinary contempt, so afraid is he of seeming ever to have learned anything. In Nausiphanes, the follower of Democritus, he is caught: though he does not deny having heard him, he assails him with every insult. Yet if he had not heard these doctrines of Democritus, what had he heard? What in Epicurus’s natural philosophy does not come from Democritus? Though he changed certain things, such as the swerve of atoms I mentioned a little while ago, he repeats most of the same doctrines: atoms, void, images, infinite space, innumerable worlds, their birth and destruction—almost everything that constitutes an account of nature.

“Now what do you understand by that ‘something like body’ and ‘something like blood’?

[1.74]
“I not only acknowledge that you know these things better than I do; I willingly accept it. But once they have been stated, why should Velleius be able to understand what Cotta cannot? I understand what body is, what blood is; what something like body and something like blood are, I do not understand in the least. You are not hiding it from me as Pythagoras used to hide things from outsiders, or deliberately speaking obscurely like Heraclitus. Between ourselves, you do not understand it either.

[1.75]
“I see that you struggle to establish some appearance of the gods that has nothing compact, solid, defined, or projecting, but is pure, smooth, and translucent. We shall therefore say the same as of the Venus of Cos: that is not a body but a likeness of a body, and the blush spread there and mingled with white is not blood but a kind of likeness of blood. So too in Epicurus’s god there are not realities but likenesses of realities.

“Suppose I am persuaded of something that cannot even be understood. Give me the outlines and forms of those shadowy gods of yours.

[1.76]
“You have no shortage of arguments here to prove that the gods’ forms are human. First, our minds have received the conception and anticipation that when a person thinks of god, a human form occurs to him. Next, since divine nature excels everything, its form too must be the most beautiful, and no form is more beautiful than the human. Your third argument is that no other figure can house a mind.

[1.77]
“First, then, consider the worth of each argument. You seem to seize as though by right upon something in no way probable.

“To begin with, who was ever so blind in contemplating things as not to see that these human appearances were assigned to the gods either by a deliberate plan of wise men, to turn the minds of the ignorant more easily from a corrupt life to divine worship, or through superstition, so that people might have images whose veneration they believed brought them into the presence of the gods themselves? Poets, painters, and craftsmen strengthened the practice: it was not easy to represent gods acting and undertaking things while maintaining the likeness of other forms.

“Perhaps the belief that nothing seems more beautiful to a human being than another human being also contributed. But do you not see, as a natural philosopher, what a flattering matchmaker nature is, almost a procurer on her own behalf? Do you think there is any beast on land or sea that does not take greatest pleasure in a beast of its own kind? Otherwise, why does a bull not yearn to touch a mare, a horse a cow? Do you think an eagle, a lion, or a dolphin prefers any figure to its own? What wonder, then, if nature has taught human beings in the same way to think nothing more beautiful than a human being? […] that this is why we thought the gods resembled humans. What do you think? If beasts possessed reason, would not each kind have assigned the highest rank to its own species?

[1.78]
“Yet, by Hercules, I myself—to speak my mind—however much I love myself, do not dare say I am more beautiful than the bull that carried Europa. For we are not now discussing our intellectual gifts or our speeches, but appearance and shape. But if we chose to invent and combine forms, like that sea creature Triton in the paintings, borne along with swimming beasts joined to his human body, you would not want to be one. I am in a difficult position: nature’s power is so great that no human wishes to resemble anything but a human—and no ant anything but an ant.

[1.79]
“Yet what human? How few are beautiful! When I was in Athens, scarcely one could be found in each company of young men. I see why you smiled, but that is nevertheless the truth. Besides, we who, with the approval of ancient philosophers, take delight in young men, often find even their defects pleasing. Alcaeus delights in a mole on a boy’s knuckle. But a mole is a blemish on the body; to him, nevertheless, it seemed a beauty mark. Quintus Catulus, father of our friend and colleague, loved your fellow townsman Roscius, and wrote these lines about him:
I stood, by chance, greeting the rising Dawn,

“When suddenly, at my left, Roscius arose.

“With your permission, heavenly ones, let me say it:

“A mortal seemed more beautiful than a god.
“To him, more beautiful than a god; yet Roscius then had, as he has today, the most badly crossed eyes. What did it matter, if that very feature seemed piquant and charming to Catulus?

[1.80]
“I return to the gods. Do we think any of them, if not so cross-eyed, at least slightly squinting? Do any have a mole, a snub nose, drooping ears, a bulging forehead, a big head—features found among us? Or is everything in them flawless? Let that be granted. But do they also all have one face? If there are several, one must be more beautiful than another, and therefore some god is not supremely beautiful. If they all have one face, the Academy must flourish in heaven: for if god differs in no respect from god, the gods possess no knowledge, no certain apprehension.”

[1.81]
“But what if that claim of yours is completely false, Velleius—that when we think about god no form but the human comes before us? Will you still defend such absurdities? Perhaps the thought does occur to us as you say. From childhood we have known Jupiter, Juno, Minerva, Neptune, Vulcan, Apollo, and the other gods with whatever faces painters and sculptors chose to give them; and not faces alone, but adornment, age, and dress. Yet this is not true of the Egyptians, the Syrians, or almost the whole non-Greek world. You would find their beliefs about certain beasts more firmly held than ours about the most sacred temples and images of the gods.

[1.82]
“We see many shrines plundered and images of gods removed by our people from their holiest sites; but no one has ever even heard of an Egyptian harming a crocodile, an ibis, or a cat. What do you think, then? Does not Apis, the Egyptians’ sacred bull, seem a god to the Egyptians? By Hercules, just as surely as your own Juno the Savior seems one to you. You never see her, even in dreams, without a goatskin, spear, little shield, and shoes with upturned toes. Yet neither Argive nor Roman Juno is like that. Thus the Argives have one image of Juno and the people of Lanuvium another. We too have one image of Capitoline Jupiter, and the Africans another of Jupiter Ammon.

[1.83]
“Is a natural philosopher, an observer and tracker of nature, not ashamed to seek testimony to truth from minds steeped in habit? On that principle we could say that Jupiter is always bearded, Apollo always beardless, Minerva’s eyes gray-blue, and Neptune’s blue. We also praise the Vulcan made by Alcamenes at Athens: in that standing, clothed figure, his lameness is slightly apparent but not ugly. Shall we therefore have a lame god because that is the account of Vulcan we have received? Come, do we also make the gods bear the names we use for them?

[1.84]
“In the first place, there are as many divine names as human languages. Unlike you, who are Velleius wherever you go, Vulcan does not have the same name in Italy, Africa, and Spain. Then again, the number of names is not great even in our pontifical books, whereas the gods are innumerable. Are they nameless? You must certainly say so. What point is there in several names when there is only one face? How much better, Velleius, to admit that you do not know what you do not know, rather than pour out this nonsense until you feel sick and disgusted with yourself! Do you think god resembles me or you? Surely you do not.

“‘What, then? Am I to call the sun, moon, or heaven a god? Then it is also blessed: what pleasures does it enjoy? And wise: how can wisdom exist in a lump like that?’

[1.85]
“Those are your arguments. If, then, neither in human […] as I have shown, nor in some such form, as you are convinced, why hesitate to deny that gods exist? You do not dare. Sensibly enough—though here you fear not the people but the gods themselves. I have known Epicureans who revered every little image. Yet I see that some think Epicurus left the gods in place in words, to avoid offending the Athenians, but abolished them in reality. Thus, among those selected, brief pronouncements of his that you call kyriai doxai, or Principal Doctrines, the first, I believe, is this: ‘Whatever is blessed and immortal neither has any trouble nor causes any to anyone.’ Some think he deliberately worded this pronouncement as he did, though he did so simply from an inability to express himself.

[1.86]
“They judge badly of a man who was anything but cunning. It is uncertain whether he says that something blessed and immortal exists, or that if something does exist, it has that character. They fail to observe that, although he spoke ambiguously here, in many other places both he and Metrodorus spoke as openly as you did a little while ago. He really does believe gods exist; and I have never seen anyone more afraid of the very things he said should not be feared—I mean death and the gods. Ordinary people are not greatly disturbed by them, yet he cries out that they terrify every mortal mind. So many thousands practice robbery with death before their eyes, while others plunder every shrine they can: presumably fear of death terrifies the former, and fear of religion the latter!

“But since you do not dare—for now I shall address Epicurus himself—to deny that gods exist, what prevents you from numbering the sun, the universe, or some eternal mind among the gods?

[1.87]
“‘I have never seen,’ he says, ‘a soul possessing reason and judgment in any form but the human.’ Well, have you seen anything like the sun, the moon, or the five wandering stars? The sun completes its yearly courses, bounding its movement by the two extremes of a single circuit. The moon, kindled by its rays, completes the same circuit within a month. The five planets, keeping to the same circuit, some nearer the earth and others farther away, cover the same distances from the same starting points in unequal times. Have you seen anything like that, Epicurus?

[1.88]
“Then let there be no sun, moon, or stars, since nothing can exist except what we have touched or seen. What about god himself? Have you seen him? Why, then, believe he exists? Let us abolish everything new that history or reason brings before us. On that principle, inland peoples must not believe the sea exists. Such narrowness of mind means that if you had been born on Seriphos and had never left the island, where you had often seen little hares and foxes, you would not believe in lions and panthers when told what they were like; and if someone spoke of an elephant, you would even think you were being mocked.

[1.89]
“You, Velleius, did not follow your school’s practice, but that of the logicians—a tribe of whom your people know absolutely nothing—and drew your conclusion through a tightly constrained argument. You assumed that the gods are blessed: we grant it. That no one can be blessed without virtue: we grant that too, and willingly. That virtue cannot exist without reason: that too must be agreed. You add that reason exists only in human form. Who do you think will grant you that? If that were so, why did you need to reach it step by step? You could have assumed it on your own authority. And what sort of step-by-step argument is this? I see that you came by steps from blessedness to virtue, from virtue to reason. But how do you get from reason to human form? That is plunging headlong, not descending a stair.

[1.90]
“Nor do I understand why Epicurus preferred to say that gods resemble humans rather than humans gods. You will ask what difference it makes: if this resembles that, that resembles this. I see the point, but what I mean is that the design of the form did not pass from humans to gods. The gods have always existed and were never born, if indeed they are to be eternal; humans, however, were born. Thus human form existed before humans, and the immortal gods possessed that form. Their form should therefore not be called human; ours should be called divine.

“But let that be as you please. My question is this: what extraordinary stroke of luck—for you maintain that nothing in nature”

[1.91]
“was made by reason—yet what vast accident, what fortunate collision of atoms, caused humans suddenly to be born in the form of gods? Are we to think that divine seeds fell from heaven to earth, and humans arose resembling their fathers? I wish you would say so; I would gladly acknowledge kinship with the gods. You say nothing of the kind, but that chance made us resemble the gods. And now we must seek arguments to refute this! If only I could discover truths as easily as I can expose falsehoods!

“You listed from memory, and at length, the philosophers’ opinions on the nature of the gods from Thales of Miletus onward, so that I was delighted to marvel at such learning in a Roman.

[1.92]
“Did all those who held that god could exist without hands and feet seem mad to you?

“Does not even consideration of the usefulness and fitness of human limbs lead you to judge that the gods have no need of human limbs? What use are feet without walking, hands if nothing needs grasping, or the rest of that arrangement of all the bodily parts, in which nothing is idle, causeless, or superfluous? No art can imitate nature’s skill. Shall god then have a tongue and never speak, teeth, palate, and throat for no use, and those parts nature attached to the body for procreation to no purpose? The same applies no less to the internal than to the external organs: heart, lungs, liver, and the rest. Apart from their usefulness, what beauty do they possess, since you insist that they exist in god for beauty’s sake?

[1.93]
“Relying on dreams like these, not only did Epicurus, Metrodorus, and Hermarchus argue against Pythagoras, Plato, and Empedocles, but even the little courtesan Leontium dared to write against Theophrastus—in polished Attic, certainly, but still! Such license prevailed in Epicurus’s Garden. And you people are always complaining. Zeno even used to quarrel; why mention Albucius? Nothing could be more refined or gracious than Phaedrus, yet the old man would grow angry if I said anything rather sharp. All this when Epicurus assailed Aristotle with the most insulting abuse, reviled Phaedo the Socratic most shamefully, and devoted whole volumes to tearing apart Timocrates, brother of his companion Metrodorus, because he differed on some point of philosophy! He was ungrateful to Democritus himself, whom he followed, and treated his teacher Nausiphanes, from whom he had learned something, so badly. Zeno struck with insults not only his contemporaries, Apollodorus Sillis and the rest, but Socrates himself, the father of philosophy: using a Latin word, he called him an Attic buffoon, and he never called Chrysippus anything but ‘Chrysippa.’

[1.94]
“You yourself just now, while reciting what was almost a senate of philosophers, called the greatest men fools, madmen, lunatics. If none of them saw the truth about divine nature, we must fear that there is no divine nature at all.

“For your own assertions are pure invention, scarcely worthy of little old women’s midnight musings. You do not perceive how many obligations you must undertake if you persuade us to grant that humans and gods have the same form. Every care and tending of the body that humans require must also be assigned to god: walking, running, reclining, bending, sitting, grasping, and ultimately even conversation and speech.

[1.95]
“And since you say there are both male and female gods, you see what follows. I truly cannot wonder enough where your great founder got these opinions.

“But you never stop crying out that we must hold fast to this: god is blessed and immortal. What prevents him from being blessed if he is not two-footed? Or that state, whether we should call it beatitas or beatitudo, Latin words for blessedness—both words are certainly awkward, but we must soften words through use—whatever it is, why can it not belong to that sun, this universe, or some eternal mind without bodily shape or limbs?

[1.96]
“You say nothing but, ‘I have never seen a blessed sun or universe.’ Well, have you ever seen any universe besides this one? You will say no. Why, then, did you dare assert that there are not six hundred thousand universes but innumerable ones? ‘Reason taught me.’ Will reason not teach you this, then? Since we seek the most excellent nature, blessed and eternal—the only divine nature—as that nature surpasses us in immortality, so it surpasses us in excellence of mind, and in body as in mind. Why, then, when we are inferior in everything else, are we equal in form? Human virtue came nearer to resembling the gods than did the human figure.

[1.97]
“Can anything be more childish—to press the same point a little longer—than to say that the kinds of beasts born in the Red Sea or India do not exist? Yet even the most inquisitive people cannot, by investigation, hear of as many things as actually exist on land, in the sea, in marshes and rivers. Shall we deny their existence because we have never seen them?

“And the resemblance itself, which pleases you most, is utterly irrelevant. Does a dog not resemble a wolf? And, as Ennius says, ‘How like us is the ape, that ugliest of beasts!’ Yet their characters differ. No beast is wiser than an elephant;

[1.98]
“but what has a more ungainly shape? I speak of beasts; among humans themselves, do we not find unlike characters in very similar forms, and unlike forms in people whose characters agree?

“Indeed, Velleius, once we adopt this sort of argument, consider where it spreads. You assumed that reason could exist only in a human form. Another will assume that it can exist only in an earthly creature, one that was born, grew up, learned, consists of a soul and a frail, perishable body—in short, only in a human and mortal being. If you resist on all these points, why should form alone trouble you? You saw reason and intelligence in humans joined to all the conditions I listed. Remove them, and you still say you recognize god, provided the outlines remain. This is not considering what to say, but almost casting lots for it.

[1.99]
“Unless perhaps you fail to notice even this: not merely in a human but even in a tree, whatever is superfluous or useless is a hindrance. How troublesome to have one finger too many! Why? Because five need no extra one, either for appearance or use. But your god has not merely one superfluous finger, but a head, neck, nape, sides, belly, back, backs of the knees, hands, feet, thighs, and shins. If he is to be immortal, what do these limbs contribute to life? What does his face itself contribute? The brain, heart, lungs, and liver matter more, for these are the homes of life; the configuration of the face has nothing to do with life’s endurance.

[1.100]
“And you censured those who, on seeing magnificent and splendid works—the universe itself, its parts, heaven, earth, and seas, and their adornments, sun, moon, and stars—and on recognizing the ripening seasons, their changes and successions, inferred that some excellent and preeminent nature existed, which had made these things and moved, directed, and governed them. Even if their inference goes astray, I can still see what they are pursuing. But what great and outstanding work do you possess that seems the product of a divine mind, from which you infer the gods’ existence? ‘I had,’ you say, ‘a certain conception of god implanted in my mind.’ Yes, a bearded Jupiter and a helmeted Minerva! Do you therefore think they really are like that?”

[1.101]
“How much better the uneducated multitude handles this! They assign god not merely human limbs but the use of those limbs. They give him bow, arrows, spear, shield, trident, and thunderbolt; and although they do not see what the gods’ activities are, they cannot conceive of a god doing nothing. The Egyptians themselves, whom people ridicule, consecrated no beast except for some benefit they received from it. Ibises, for instance, destroy a vast number of snakes: they are tall birds, with stiff legs and a long, horny beak. They avert a plague from Egypt by killing and devouring the winged snakes carried on the southwest wind from the Libyan wilderness, so that those snakes do no harm either by biting when alive or by their stench when dead. I could discuss the usefulness of mongooses, crocodiles, and cats, but I do not wish to speak at length. I shall conclude thus: at least those peoples consecrated beasts for their benefits, whereas of your gods no benefit is evident, nor even any deed at all.

[1.102]
“‘He has no business,’ Epicurus says. Certainly, like pampered children, Epicurus thinks nothing better than idleness. Yet even children, when idle, enjoy some playful exercise. Do we want god so completely on holiday, so numbed by idleness, that if he stirs we fear he may cease to be blessed? This reasoning not only strips the gods of divine movement and action, but makes human beings idle too, if not even god can be blessed while doing anything.

[1.103]
“But let god, as you wish, be the figure and image of a human. What is his dwelling, his abode, his location? What, then, is his manner of life, and what makes him blessed, as you insist he is? For anyone who is to be blessed must use and enjoy his own good things. Even substances without life each have their own proper place: earth occupies the lowest, water floods over it, a higher region belongs to air, and the highest realm is assigned to ethereal fires. Of beasts, some live on land, some in water, others have a double life in both habitats; and some are even thought to be born in fire, and are often seen flying about in blazing furnaces.

[1.104]
“So I ask, first, where your god lives; next, what causes him to move from his place, if indeed he ever moves; then, since it is characteristic of living creatures to seek something suited to their nature, what god seeks, and to what end he employs the movement of his mind and reason; finally, how he is blessed and how eternal. Whichever of these points you touch is a sore: so ill-founded an account can find no way out.

[1.105]
“For this is what you said: god’s appearance is perceived by thought, not by sense; it has no solidity, nor does it remain numerically the same; our vision of it is such that it is discerned through similarity and succession, and the arrival of similar images from infinite bodies never fails; and so our mind, intent upon them, considers that nature blessed and everlasting. By the very gods we are discussing, what can this mean? If they affect thought alone and have no solidity or projection, what difference does it make whether we think of a centaur or a god? Every other philosopher calls such a mental formation an empty movement; you call it the arrival and entry of images into the mind.

[1.106]
“Thus, when I seem to see Tiberius Gracchus addressing an assembly on the Capitol and bringing forward the voting urn concerning Marcus Octavius, I call that an empty movement of the mind. You, however, say that images of Gracchus and Octavius remain, and when they have reached the Capitol they are conveyed to my mind. You say the same happens with god: our minds are struck by his frequently recurring appearance, and from this he is understood to be blessed and eternal.

[1.107]
“Suppose there are images that strike the mind. Only a certain appearance is presented; is the reason why it is blessed or eternal presented too?

“And what are these images of yours, or where do they come from? This license comes entirely from Democritus; but he has been criticized by many, and you cannot find a way out: the whole thing wavers and limps. What could be less acceptable than that images of everyone strike me—Homer, Archilochus, Romulus, Numa, Pythagoras, Plato—and not in the form they actually had? How, then, are they images of those people? And images of whom? Aristotle teaches that the poet Orpheus never existed, and they say that this Orphic poem belonged to a certain Cercon, a Pythagorean. Yet Orpheus—or his image, as you would have it—often comes before my mind.

[1.108]
“What of the fact that different images of the same person enter my mind and yours? What of images of things that never existed and never could, such as Scylla and the Chimaera? What of people, places, and cities we have never seen? What of an image’s appearing as soon as I wish? What of their coming unbidden even to a sleeper? The whole thing, Velleius, is nonsense. You force images not only upon our eyes but upon our minds: such is your impunity in chattering. And what license you take!

[1.109]
“‘There is a succession of visions flowing in rapid sequence, so that one appears out of many.’ I would be ashamed to say I do not understand, if you who defend this understood it yourselves. How do you prove that images arrive continuously? Or, if continuously, how eternally? ‘The innumerable multitude of atoms supplies them,’ he says. Will that same multitude, then, make everything everlasting? You take refuge in equilibrium—let us use that word, if you please, for isonomia—and say that because mortal nature exists, immortal nature must also exist. By that reasoning, since humans are mortal, let there be some immortals; and since they are born on land, let them also be born in water. ‘And because there are things that destroy, let there be things that preserve.’ By all means, but let them preserve things that exist. I do not perceive that those gods of yours exist.

[1.110]
“And how does all that imagery of things arise from indivisible bodies? Even if those bodies existed—and they do not—they might perhaps strike one another and be driven about by collision; they could not create form, shape, color, or life. So in no way do you establish an immortal god.

“Let us now consider his blessedness. Certainly it cannot exist without virtue; but virtue is active, and your god does nothing. Therefore he has no virtue;”

[1.111]
“and so he is not blessed either. What life, then, does he have? ‘A supply,’ you say, ‘of good things, with no intrusion of evils.’ But what good things? Pleasures, I suppose—bodily ones, naturally. For you recognize no pleasure of the mind except what originates in the body and returns to it. I do not suppose you wish to resemble the other Epicureans who are ashamed of certain sayings of Epicurus, in which he declares that he cannot even understand any good apart from luxurious and obscene pleasures. Without blushing, he pursues them all by name.

[1.112]
“What food, then, what drinks, what varieties of sounds or flowers, what touches and scents will you offer the gods to bathe them in pleasure? The poets at least prepare nectar, ambrosia, and feasts, with Juventas, Youth, or Ganymede serving the cups. But what will you do, Epicurus? I cannot see either where your god gets these things or how he uses them. Human nature, then, has richer resources for living happily than divine nature, because it enjoys more kinds of pleasure.

[1.113]
“But you think those pleasures rather slight, which apply a sort of tickling—Epicurus’s own word—to the senses. How long will you trifle with us? Even our friend Philo could not bear to hear Epicureans disdain soft and luxurious pleasures. With his extraordinary memory he used to recite many sayings of Epicurus in the very words in which they were written. He also quoted many still more shameless statements of Metrodorus, Epicurus’s colleague in wisdom. Metrodorus accuses his brother Timocrates of hesitating to measure everything belonging to a happy life by the belly; he says this not once but repeatedly. I see you nodding: you know these passages. If you denied them, I would bring out the books. I am not now criticizing the reference of everything to pleasure—that is another inquiry—but showing that your gods have no share in pleasure, and thus, by your own judgment, are not even blessed. ‘But they are free from pain.’

[1.114]
“Is that enough for the supremely blessed life overflowing with good things? ‘He thinks continually,’ they say, ‘that he is blessed: he has nothing else to turn over in his mind.’ Conceive him, then, in your mind and set him before your eyes: a god who through all eternity thinks of nothing but ‘I am doing splendidly’ and ‘I am blessed.’ Yet I cannot see how that blessed god avoids fearing destruction, when he is struck and shaken without any interruption by the everlasting onrush of atoms, and images are always flowing from him. Thus your god is neither blessed nor eternal.

[1.115]
“‘But Epicurus even wrote books about holiness and piety toward the gods.’ Yet how does he speak in them? You would say you were hearing Tiberius Coruncanius or Publius Scaevola, chief pontiffs, not someone who utterly uprooted religion and overthrew the immortal gods’ temples and altars, not with his hands like Xerxes, but with arguments. Why say that gods should be worshipped by humans, when the gods not only pay no regard to humans but care about nothing and do nothing at all?

[1.116]
“‘But theirs is a certain exceptional and preeminent nature, which by itself should draw the wise man to worship it.’ Can there be anything exceptional in a nature that rejoices in its own pleasure and will never do anything, does nothing now, and has never done anything? Again, what piety is owed to one from whom you have received nothing? What can possibly be owed to one who has done no service? Piety is justice toward the gods; but what bond of justice can exist between us and them, when humans have no fellowship with god? Holiness, in turn, is knowledge of how to worship the gods. I do not understand why they should be worshipped when we have neither received nor expect any good from them.

[1.117]
“And why should we revere the gods out of admiration for a nature in which we see nothing outstanding?

“As for freeing people from superstition, as you regularly boast of doing, that is easy once you have removed all divine power. Unless perhaps you think Diagoras or Theodorus, who denied the gods’ existence altogether, could have been superstitious? I do not think even Protagoras could, though he was permitted neither alternative, neither that gods exist nor that they do not. The opinions of all these men remove not only superstition, which contains an empty fear of the gods, but religion as well, which consists in their pious worship.

[1.118]
“What of those who said that the entire belief in the immortal gods was invented by wise men for the republic’s sake, so that religion might bring to duty those whom reason could not? Did they not utterly uproot all religion? What religion, again, did Prodicus of Ceos leave, when he said that things beneficial to human life had been counted among the gods?

[1.119]
“What of those who relate that brave, famous, or powerful men became gods after death, and that these are the very beings we habitually worship, pray to, and revere? Are they not devoid of all religion? This theory was developed especially by Euhemerus, whom our Ennius both translated and followed more than anyone else. Euhemerus points out even the deaths and burial places of the gods. Does he seem, then, to have strengthened religion, or to have abolished it completely? I leave aside holy and august Eleusis, ‘where peoples from the farthest shores are initiated’; I pass over Samothrace and those rites on Lemnos that ‘are secretly celebrated by night, thickly enclosed by woodland hedges.’ When these are explained and reduced to a rational account, we come to know the nature of things rather than that of the gods.

[1.120]
“Even Democritus, a man of the first rank, from whose springs Epicurus watered his little gardens, seems to me unsteady on the nature of the gods. At one time he thinks images endowed with divinity exist throughout the universe; at another he calls the elements of mind in that same universe gods; then he speaks of living images that regularly benefit or harm us, then of certain vast images so immense that they embrace the whole universe from outside. All these notions are more worthy of Democritus’s native town than of Democritus himself;

[1.121]
“for who can conceive those images in his mind, who can admire them, who can judge them worthy of worship or religious devotion?

“But Epicurus tore religion out of human minds by the roots when he deprived the immortal gods of both helpfulness and good will. Although he says that god’s nature is the best and most excellent, he also denies that god possesses good will, taking away what belongs most properly to the best and most excellent nature. For what is better or more excellent than goodness and beneficence? By insisting that god lacks these, you insist that no one, god or human, is dear to god, that no one is loved or cherished by him. Thus not only are humans neglected by gods, but the gods themselves neglect one another. How much better are the Stoics, whom you criticize! They hold that the wise are friends of the wise even when they have never met. Nothing is more lovable than virtue, and whoever has attained it, wherever in the world he may be, will be loved by us.

[1.122]
“But what harm you do when you locate kindness and benevolence in weakness! To leave aside the power and nature of the gods, do you think even humans would never have been generous and kind if they had not been weak? Is there no natural affection among the good? The very word ‘dear’ speaks of love, from whose Latin name, amor, the name for friendship, amicitia, is derived. If we refer friendship to our own profit, not to the advantage of the person we love, it will be no friendship but a kind of trade in benefits to ourselves. Meadows, fields, and herds of cattle are loved that way, because we reap a profit from them; human affection and friendship are freely given. How much more so, then, is the love of the gods, who need nothing, love one another, and care for humans! If that is not so, why do we revere the gods, why pray to them? Why do pontiffs preside over sacrifices and augurs over auspices? What do we ask of the immortal gods, what do we vow? ‘But Epicurus even has a book On Holiness.’

[1.123]
“We are being made fools of by a man less distinguished for wit than for the freedom with which he writes whatever he likes. What holiness can there be if the gods have no concern for human affairs? And what living nature can care for nothing? Surely the truer view is what Posidonius, the friend of us all, argued in the fifth book of On the Nature of the Gods: Epicurus thought no gods existed, and said what he did about the immortal gods merely to avert hostility. For he would not have been so foolish as to fashion a god like a little human being, with only the outer outlines and no solid substance, endowed with every human limb but not the slightest use of those limbs, a thin, translucent being who gives nothing to anyone, shows no kindness, and has absolutely no concern or activity. First, such a nature cannot exist at all; seeing this, Epicurus abolishes the gods in reality while leaving them in his account.

[1.124]
“Next, even supposing god is such as to feel no good will, no affection for humans, let him go his way! Why should I say, ‘May he be gracious’? He can be gracious to no one, since, as you say, all good will and affection belong to weakness.”

### Book 2

[2.1]
When Cotta had finished, Velleius said, “How rash I was to attempt a contest with an Academic who is also an orator! I should have had no great fear of an Academic without eloquence, or of an orator, however eloquent, without that philosophy. A torrent of empty words does not trouble me, nor do subtle arguments if their expression is dry. But you, Cotta, were powerful in both; all you lacked were an audience and a jury. Still, we can return to this another time. For now, let us hear Lucilius, if it suits him.”

[2.2]
Then Balbus said, “For my part, I should rather hear Cotta again, provided he uses the same eloquence to establish the true gods that he used to demolish the false ones. As a philosopher, as a pontiff, and as Cotta, he ought to hold a view of the immortal gods that is not wavering and uncertain, like the Academics’, but firm and settled, like ours. Enough and more than enough has been said against Epicurus. But I am eager to hear what you yourself believe, Cotta.”

“Have you forgotten,” he answered, “what I said at the outset—that I could more easily say what I did not believe than what I did, especially on such questions? Even if I had reached some clear conclusion, I should still want to hear you in your turn, after saying so much myself.”

[2.3]
Then Balbus said, “I shall oblige you and be as brief as I can. The exposure of Epicurus’ errors has, in fact, cut a long stretch out of my argument. Our school divides the whole inquiry into the immortal gods into four parts. First they show that gods exist; next, what they are like; then, that they govern the world; and finally, that they care for human affairs. In this conversation let us take the first two; the third and fourth are larger questions, and I think we should postpone them to another time.”

“Certainly not,” said Cotta. “We have leisure, and the matters we are discussing deserve precedence even over business.”

[2.4]
Then Lucilius said, “The first part hardly seems to need an argument. When we look up at the sky and contemplate the heavens, what could be more evident, more unmistakable, than that some divine power of surpassing intelligence governs them? If that were not so, how could Ennius have said, with everyone’s assent, ‘Look at this shining height, which all invoke as Jupiter’—and called him Jupiter indeed, ruler of all things, guiding everything by his movement, and, as Ennius also says, ‘father of gods and men,’ a god present among us and supreme in power? If anyone doubts this, I can scarcely understand why he should not equally doubt whether the sun exists or not.

[2.5]
“For how is the one more evident than the other? Unless our minds had grasped and understood this truth, the conviction would not remain so firm, would not be strengthened by the passage of time, and could not have grown old with the centuries and generations of humanity. We see that other opinions, false inventions without substance, have withered away over time. Who believes that a centaur or the Chimaera ever existed? What old woman could be found so witless as to fear those monsters in the underworld that people once believed in? Time erases the fictions of opinion; it confirms the judgments of nature.

[2.6]
“Thus among our own people and among others, worship of the gods and reverence for religion grow greater and better every day. This does not happen blindly or by chance, but because the gods often reveal their power in person. At Lake Regillus, during the Latin war, when the dictator Aulus Postumius fought Octavius Mamilius of Tusculum, Castor and Pollux were seen fighting on horseback in our line. In more recent memory those same sons of Tyndareus announced the defeat of Perseus. Publius Vatinius, the grandfather of the young man we know, was traveling to Rome by night from the prefecture of Reate when two young men on white horses told him that King Perseus had been captured that day. When he reported this to the senate, he was at first thrown into prison for making a reckless statement about public affairs. Later, when a letter arrived from Paulus and the date proved to be the same, the senate rewarded him with land and exemption from public service. Again, tradition records that when the Locrians defeated the people of Croton in a great battle at the river Sagra, news of the battle was heard that very day at the games at Olympia. Often the voices of Fauns have been heard; often gods have appeared in visible form, compelling anyone who was neither dull-witted nor impious to acknowledge their presence.

[2.7]
“And predictions and foreknowledge of the future—what else do they reveal but that coming events are shown, signaled, foreshadowed, and foretold to human beings? Hence the Latin ostenta, monstra, portenta, and prodigia, from ostendi, monstrari, portendi, and praedici: being shown, signaled, foreshadowed, and foretold. Suppose we consider Mopsus, Tiresias, Amphiaraus, Calchas, and Helenus inventions of poetic license—though even myths would not have adopted them as diviners if the facts had altogether ruled divination out. Shall we not learn even from examples at home and acknowledge the power of the gods? Will the recklessness of Publius Clodius in the First Punic War leave us unmoved? Mocking the gods even in jest, when the sacred chickens released from their cage would not feed, he ordered them plunged into water: since they would not eat, they should drink. That laughter, when his fleet was defeated, brought him many tears and the Roman people a great disaster. And his colleague Lucius Junius—did he not lose his fleet in a storm during the same war, after disobeying the auspices? Clodius was therefore condemned by the people, and Junius took his own life.

[2.8]
“Coelius writes that Gaius Flaminius fell at Lake Trasimene, with grievous harm to the state, because he neglected religious observance. Their destruction enables us to understand that the state was enlarged under the command of those who obeyed religion. If we choose to compare ourselves with foreign peoples, we shall find ourselves their equals, or even their inferiors, in other respects, but far their superiors in religion—that is, in the worship of the gods.

[2.9]
“Are we to despise that augur’s staff of Attus Navius, with which he marked out the regions of the vineyard to track down a pig? I might think so, had King Hostilius not conducted his greatest wars under his augury. But through the negligence of our nobility, the discipline of augury has been abandoned and the truth of the auspices scorned; only the outward form has been retained. Thus the greatest affairs of state, including the wars on which its safety depends, are conducted without any auspices. None are taken when rivers are crossed, none from the points of spears; no men are summoned, and consequently wills made before battle have disappeared. Our commanders now begin to wage war only when they have laid aside their auspices.

[2.10]
“Yet among our ancestors religion had such power that certain commanders, their heads veiled, consecrated even their own lives to the immortal gods for the state, using a prescribed formula. I could recall many utterances of the Sibyl and many answers of the diviners who inspect sacrifices to confirm what no one ought to doubt. Indeed, events themselves vindicated both the discipline of our augurs and that of the Etruscan diviners in the consulship of Publius Scipio and Gaius Figulus. When Tiberius Gracchus, consul for the second time, was presiding over their election, the first officer collecting the votes suddenly died on the spot, just as he reported their return. Gracchus nevertheless completed the election, but realized that the incident had aroused religious misgivings among the people, and referred it to the senate. The senate resolved that it should be referred to the usual authorities. The diviners were brought in and answered that the officer who had conducted the election was not properly qualified. Then Gracchus, as I used to hear from my father, blazed with anger:

[2.11]
“‘What? I was not qualified? I conducted the election as consul and augur, after taking the auspices! Do you Etruscans, you foreigners, understand the Roman people’s law of auspices, and can you interpret its elections?’ So he ordered them out. But later he wrote from his province to the college of augurs. While reading the books, he had remembered that there was a fault in his taking the augural station in Scipio’s gardens: after entering the sacred boundary of the city to hold a senate meeting, he had forgotten to take the auspices when he crossed that same boundary on his return. The consuls, therefore, had been elected under a religious defect. The augurs referred the matter to the senate; the senate ordered the consuls to resign; they resigned. What greater examples do we seek? A man of consummate wisdom, perhaps the most distinguished of all men, chose to confess his error, though he could have concealed it, rather than let religious guilt cling to the state; the consuls chose to surrender their supreme command at once rather than retain it for a single instant against religion.

[2.12]
“Great is the authority of the augurs; and is not the diviners’ art itself divine? Anyone who sees these things, and countless others of the same kind, must surely be compelled to acknowledge that gods exist. Those whose interpreters they are must certainly exist; and they are interpreters of the gods. Let us therefore admit that gods exist. Perhaps, however, not everything predicted comes true. Neither is medicine no art merely because not all the sick recover. Signs of future events are shown by the gods; if anyone has erred in reading them, the fault lies not with the divine nature but with human interpretation.

“Thus on the main point there is agreement among all people of every nation. Everyone has an inborn conviction, as though engraved upon the mind, that gods exist. What they are like is disputed; their existence no one denies.

[2.13]
“Our Cleanthes said that conceptions of the gods had taken shape in human minds for four reasons. First he placed the one I have just mentioned, arising from foreknowledge of the future. Second came the impression we receive from the greatness of the benefits furnished by the temperate climate, the fertility of the earth, and the abundance of many other advantages.

[2.14]
“The third was the terror inspired by lightning, storms, rain clouds, snow, hail, devastation, pestilence, earthquakes and often underground rumblings, showers of stones, and raindrops seemingly tinged with blood; then by landslides or sudden chasms in the earth, by unnatural and monstrous births among humans and livestock, by fiery lights seen in the sky, and by the stars the Greeks call ‘comets’ and our people ‘curly-haired stars,’ which recently, during the war with Octavius, foretold great disasters. There is also the appearance of a second sun, which, as I heard from my father, occurred in the consulship of Tuditanus and Aquilius—the very year in which Publius Africanus, another sun, was extinguished. Terrified by these things, people came to suspect the existence of some heavenly and divine power.

[2.15]
“The fourth reason, and perhaps the greatest, was the uniformity of motion and utterly constant revolution of the heavens, the distinctness, usefulness, beauty, and order of the sun, moon, and all the stars. Their very appearance sufficiently indicated that they were not products of chance. If someone enters a house, a gymnasium, or a public square and sees everything arranged with method, proportion, and discipline, he cannot suppose this has come about without a cause: he understands that someone presides and is obeyed. Far more, amid such mighty motions and alternations, amid the ordered sequences of things so numerous and so great—sequences in which the immeasurable, infinite past has never shown a failure—he must conclude that some intelligence governs these vast movements of nature.

[2.16]
“Chrysippus, for all his penetrating genius, speaks in a way that seems learned from nature herself rather than discovered by his own effort. ‘If there is anything in nature,’ he says, ‘that the human mind, reason, strength, and power cannot produce, then what produces it is certainly better than a human being. But the heavenly bodies, and all those things whose order is everlasting, cannot be made by humans. Therefore what makes them is better than a human being. And what would you call it rather than god? For if there are no gods, what can there be in nature better than a human being? Humans alone possess reason, and nothing can surpass reason. Yet for a human being to think that nothing in the whole world is better than himself is senseless arrogance. Therefore something is better. Therefore god certainly exists.’

[2.17]
“If you saw a large and beautiful house, you could not be persuaded, even without seeing its master, to believe it had been built for mice and weasels. Then if you think the world’s vast splendor, the great variety and beauty of the heavens, and the enormous power and extent of sea and land are your dwelling, not that of the immortal gods, would you not appear completely senseless? Do we fail to understand even this: everything above is better, while the earth lies lowest, surrounded by the densest air? Precisely for this reason—just as we see that the inhabitants of certain regions and cities have duller minds because of the greater density of their atmosphere—the same has happened to the human race, because humans have been placed on earth, in the densest region of the world.

[2.18]
“Yet from human intelligence itself we ought to infer that some mind exists, more penetrating than ours and divine. Where did a human being ‘snatch’ this intelligence, as Socrates asks in Xenophon? If someone asks where we obtained our moisture, the heat diffused through our bodies, the earthy solidity of our flesh, or finally that breath-like soul, the answer is clear. One thing we took from earth, another from water, another from fire, another from the air that we draw as breath. But that which surpasses all these—I mean reason, or, if you prefer more words, mind, judgment, thought, and practical wisdom—where did we find it? From where did we take it? Will the world possess everything else and lack this one thing of greatest worth? Certainly nothing in all existence is better than the world, nothing more excellent, nothing more beautiful. Not only does nothing better exist; nothing better can even be conceived. And if nothing is better than reason and wisdom, these must exist in what we acknowledge to be the best of all things.

[2.19]
“And who will not be compelled to accept my argument by the great, unbroken kinship of things, their mutual agreement and harmony? Could the earth flower at one season and in turn grow bare at another? Could the sun’s approach and withdrawal at the summer and winter solstices be recognized through so many changes in things themselves? Could the ocean tides and narrow straits be stirred by the moon’s rising or setting? Could the different courses of the stars be maintained within the single revolution of the whole sky? These things could certainly not occur with every part of the world in harmony unless one divine, all-pervading breath held them together.

[2.20]
“When these matters are discussed more richly and expansively, as I intend to discuss them, they more easily escape the Academics’ captious objections. But when they are compressed into brief, narrow deductions, as Zeno used to do, they are more exposed to criticism. Just as flowing water is hardly, if at all, corrupted, while stagnant water easily is, so a flowing argument washes away the critic’s abuse, while a tightly confined deduction cannot easily defend itself. Zeno compressed the matters I am developing into this form:

[2.21]
“‘What uses reason is better than what does not use reason. Nothing is better than the world. Therefore the world uses reason.’ In the same way it can be proved that the world is wise, happy, and eternal. All these qualities are better than their absence, and nothing is better than the world. From this it follows that the world is god.

[2.22]
“He also argues in this way: ‘No part of something lacking sensation can itself possess sensation. But parts of the world possess sensation. Therefore the world does not lack sensation.’ He presses on and tightens the argument: ‘Nothing devoid of life and reason can generate from itself something alive and rational. But the world generates living and rational beings. Therefore the world is alive and rational.’ He also completed his argument with an analogy, as he often does: ‘If flutes playing harmonious music grew on an olive tree, would you doubt that some knowledge of flute-playing existed in the tree? What if plane trees bore lyres sounding in rhythm? You would of course conclude that music existed in those plane trees. Why, then, should the world not be judged alive and wise, when it produces from itself living and wise beings?’

[2.23]
“But since I have begun to proceed differently from what I said at the outset—I said this first part needed no argument, because the existence of the gods was evident to everyone—I nevertheless want to confirm that very point by physical arguments, that is, arguments from nature. The fact is that everything nourished, everything that grows, contains a power of heat within itself; without it, neither nourishment nor growth would be possible. For everything hot and fiery is stirred and driven by its own motion, while whatever feeds and grows employs a certain steady, uniform motion. As long as that motion remains in us, sensation and life remain; when our heat cools and is extinguished, we ourselves die and are extinguished.

[2.24]
“Cleanthes also shows by the following arguments how great a power of heat exists in every body. No food, he says, is so heavy that it is not digested night and day; even the waste that nature rejects still contains heat. Again, veins and arteries never cease throbbing with a kind of fiery movement. It has often been observed that an animal’s heart, torn out of its body, goes on beating with such activity that it resembles the swiftness of fire. Thus everything that lives, whether animal or growth from the earth, lives because of the heat enclosed within it. From this we must understand that the nature of heat contains a life-giving power extending throughout the entire world.

[2.25]
“We shall see this more readily if we examine more closely the whole fiery element that penetrates everything. All the parts of the world—I shall touch only on the principal ones—are supported and sustained by heat. This can first be seen in the nature of earth. We see fire struck from stones by impact and friction, the earth steaming with warmth when freshly dug, and warm water drawn even from perennial wells. This happens especially in winter, because a great store of heat is contained in the earth’s hollows, and in winter the earth is denser and therefore holds its inherent heat more tightly.

[2.26]
“It would take a long discussion, with many arguments, to show that all the seeds the earth receives, and all the growths she produces from herself and holds fast by their roots, arise and increase through a due balance of heat. That heat is also mixed with water is shown first by water’s own fluidity and flow. It could not freeze in the cold or grow solid as snow and frost unless, with heat mixed into it, it could also melt, dissolve, and spread. Thus moisture hardens under north winds and other applications of cold, and in turn softens when warmed and melts with heat. Again, the seas grow so warm when stirred by winds that we can readily understand that heat is enclosed within those immense waters. That warmth must not be regarded as coming from outside or as something added, but as roused by agitation from the sea’s innermost depths—the same thing happens to our own bodies when movement and exercise warm them. Indeed air itself, though by nature extremely cold, is by no means without heat.

[2.27]
“In fact, it has a great deal of heat mixed into it, for it arises from the exhalation of water. Air must be regarded as a kind of vapor from water, produced by the movement of the heat contained in water. We can see a likeness of this in water boiling over a fire. Then there remains the fourth part of the world. This is itself fiery throughout its nature and imparts wholesome, life-giving heat to all the other elements.

[2.28]
“From this it follows that, since all the world’s parts are sustained by heat, the world itself is preserved through so long a duration by a like and corresponding power. All the more so because we must understand that this hot, fiery element is diffused throughout nature in such a way that it contains the power of procreation and the cause of generation: through it all animals and all things rooted in the earth must be born and grow.

[2.29]
“There is therefore a nature that holds the whole world together and preserves it, and that nature is not without sensation and reason. Every nature that is not solitary and simple, but joined and connected with something else, must have some governing principle within itself. In a human being this is the mind; in a beast, something resembling mind, from which impulses toward things arise. In trees and other growths from the earth, the governing principle is thought to lie in the roots. By ‘governing principle’ I mean what the Greeks call the hegemonikon: in each kind of being nothing can or ought to surpass it. Thus whatever holds the governing principle of all nature must also be best of all, and most worthy of power and dominion over everything.

[2.30]
“But we see that sensation and reason exist in parts of the world—for there is nothing anywhere in the world that is not a part of the whole. Therefore these qualities must exist in the part that contains the world’s governing principle, and in a sharper and higher degree. Consequently the world must be wise, and the nature that embraces and holds all things must excel in the perfection of reason. Therefore the world is god, and all the world’s power is sustained by a divine nature.

“Moreover, the world’s fiery heat is far purer, brighter, and more active than the heat we know, which preserves and invigorates the things familiar to us; for those reasons it is better suited to arousing sensation.

[2.31]
“It is therefore absurd to say that humans and beasts are held together by this heat, and through it move and feel, but that the world lacks sensation, though it is held together by a fire unspoiled, unfettered, pure, and at the same time intensely vigorous and active. Especially so, since the world’s fire is not set in motion by something else or by an external impulse, but moves by itself and of its own accord. What could be stronger than the world, to drive and move the heat by which the world is held together?

[2.32]
“Let us listen to Plato, a kind of god among philosophers. He holds that there are two kinds of motion, one originating within a thing, the other outside it; and that what moves by itself, of its own accord, is more divine than what is driven by another’s impulse. This self-originating motion he assigns to souls alone, and he thinks that from them motion takes its first beginning. Therefore, since all motion arises from the world’s fire, and that fire moves not by an external impulse but of its own accord, it must be a soul. From this it follows that the world is alive.

“We may also understand that it possesses intelligence from this: the world is certainly better than any particular nature. Just as no part of our body is worth as much as we ourselves, so the universe must be worth more than any part of the universe. If so, the world must be wise. Otherwise a human being, though a part of the world, would have to be worth more than the entire world because he possesses reason.

[2.33]
“Again, if we choose to advance from the first, rudimentary forms of nature to the highest and perfected forms, we must arrive at the nature of the gods. First we observe that nature sustains the things that spring from the earth. To these she has given nothing beyond preservation through nourishment and growth.

[2.34]
“To beasts, however, she has given sensation and motion, and an impulse by which they approach what is wholesome and withdraw from what is deadly. To humans she has given something more, adding reason to govern the mind’s impulses, now allowing them free play, now restraining them. But there is a fourth and highest level, belonging to beings born good and wise by nature, with right and steadfast reason implanted in them from the beginning. This must be held to surpass humanity and must be assigned to god—that is, to the world, in which that perfect and complete reason must exist.

[2.35]
“For it cannot be said that any order of things lacks some final, perfect attainment. In a vine or an animal, unless some force intervenes, we see nature proceeding by a course of her own to her final end. And just as painting, building, and the other arts achieve a finished work, so in all nature, and to a still greater degree, something must reach fulfillment and perfection. Many external things can prevent particular natures from reaching perfection; but nothing can hinder universal nature, because she herself embraces and contains every nature. Therefore that fourth and highest level must exist, beyond the reach of any force.

[2.36]
“This is the level at which the nature of all things stands. Since it is such that it rules everything and nothing can hinder it, the world must be intelligent, and indeed wise.

“What could be more ignorant than to deny that the nature embracing everything is the best, or, while admitting it is best, to deny that it is, first, alive; next, possessed of reason and judgment; and finally, wise? How else can it be best? If it resembles plants or even beasts, we should regard it as the worst rather than the best. And if it possesses reason but has not been wise from the beginning, surely the world’s condition will be worse than humanity’s. A human being can become wise; but if the world has been foolish throughout the eternity of past time, it will certainly never attain wisdom. Thus it will be inferior to a human being. Since that is absurd, we must hold that the world has been wise from the beginning and is god.

[2.37]
“For nothing apart from the world lacks nothing, is fitted together and perfected on every side, and is complete in every measure and part. Chrysippus puts it aptly: just as a cover is made for a shield and a sheath for a sword, so everything apart from the world has been brought into being for the sake of something else. The crops and fruits the earth produces are for animals, and animals for humans: the horse for riding, the ox for plowing, the dog for hunting and keeping watch. But the human being himself was born to contemplate and imitate the world—not perfect himself, but a small part of what is perfect.

[2.38]
“Since the world embraces everything, and nothing exists outside it, it is perfect in every respect. How, then, can it lack what is best? Nothing is better than mind and reason; therefore these cannot be absent from the world. Chrysippus again argues well, using comparisons to show that every quality is better in things fully developed and mature: in a horse than in a colt, in a dog than in a puppy, in a man than in a boy. Likewise, whatever is best in the whole world must exist in something perfected and complete.

[2.39]
“But nothing is more perfect than the world, and nothing better than virtue. Therefore virtue is a property of the world. Human nature is not perfect, yet virtue is achieved in a human being; how much more easily, then, in the world! Virtue therefore exists in it. Thus it is wise, and consequently a god.

“Once we recognize this divinity of the world, we must assign the same divinity to the stars. They arise from the most active and purest part of the ether, with no admixture of any other element, and are wholly hot and radiant. Thus it is entirely right to say that they too are alive, feel, and understand.

[2.40]
“Cleanthes thinks that the evidence of two senses, touch and sight, confirms that they consist wholly of fire. The sun’s heat and brightness are more intense than those of any fire, since it shines so far and wide throughout the boundless world. Its touch not only warms but often burns—neither of which it could do unless it were fiery. ‘Therefore,’ he says, ‘since the sun is fiery and feeds on the moisture of Ocean’—because no fire can persist without some nourishment—‘it must resemble either the fire we employ for everyday use and sustenance, or the fire contained in the bodies of living creatures.

[2.41]
“‘But this fire of ours, required for the uses of life, destroys and consumes everything; wherever it advances, it throws everything into disorder and scatters it. By contrast, the fire in the body is life-giving and wholesome: it preserves, nourishes, increases, and sustains everything, and endows it with sensation.’ Therefore he says there can be no doubt which of these fires the sun resembles, since it too makes everything flower and develop to maturity, each after its own kind. So, since the sun’s fire resembles the fires within the bodies of living creatures, the sun must also be alive—and so must the other heavenly bodies, which arise in the celestial fire called ether or heaven.

[2.42]
“Since some living creatures originate on land, others in water, and others in air, Aristotle thinks it absurd to suppose that no living creature is generated in the region best fitted to generate them. The stars occupy the region of ether. Since this is the finest substance, and is always active and vigorous, any creature generated in it must possess the keenest sensation and the swiftest motion. Thus, since the heavenly bodies arise in ether, it follows that they have sensation and intelligence, and consequently must be counted among the gods. We can indeed see that people inhabiting lands where the air is pure and thin have minds more acute and better fitted for understanding than those who live under a thick, heavy atmosphere.

[2.43]
“People even think that the food one eats makes some difference to mental sharpness. It is therefore reasonable to believe that the stars possess outstanding intelligence: they inhabit the world’s ethereal region and feed on moisture from sea and land, refined over the great distance it travels. But the clearest evidence of the stars’ sensation and intelligence is their order and constancy, in which there is nothing reckless, nothing variable, nothing accidental; for nothing can move by reason and measure without purpose. The stars’ order and constancy throughout all eternity indicate neither mere nature—for their movement is full of reason—nor chance, which delights in variation and rejects constancy. It follows, then, that they move of their own accord, through their own awareness and divinity.

[2.44]
“Aristotle also deserves praise for holding that everything in motion moves either by nature, by force, or by choice. The sun, moon, and all the stars move. Things moved by nature are carried either downward by their weight or upward by their lightness; neither happens to the stars, because their motion carries them around in a circle. Nor can it be said that some greater force makes the stars move against their nature—for what greater force could there be? It remains, therefore, that the motion of the stars is voluntary.

“Anyone who sees these things and denies that gods exist acts not only ignorantly but impiously. Nor does it make much difference whether one denies their existence or deprives them of all oversight and activity. To my mind, what does nothing seems not to exist at all. The existence of the gods is therefore so evident that I can scarcely regard anyone who denies it as sane.

[2.45]
“It remains to consider what their nature is like. Here nothing is harder than to draw the mind’s vision away from the familiar experience of the eyes. This difficulty has led both the ignorant multitude and philosophers who resemble the ignorant to be unable to conceive of the immortal gods except in human shapes. Cotta has refuted the worthlessness of that opinion; it does not need an argument from me. But since a settled conception in our minds gives us an intuitive awareness that god is, first, a living being, and next, that nothing in all nature surpasses him, I see nothing better suited to this intuition and conception than to judge, first of all, that this very world, which nothing can excel, is a living being and a god.

[2.46]
“Here Epicurus may joke as much as he likes—a man with little talent for jokes and none of the wit of his native land—and say that he cannot understand what a round, revolving god is like. He will nevertheless never shake me from this position, which even he approves. For he holds that gods exist because there must be some preeminent nature with nothing better than itself. But certainly nothing is better than the world, and undoubtedly what is alive and possesses sensation, reason, and mind is better than what lacks them.

[2.47]
“Thus it follows that the world is alive and possesses sensation, mind, and reason; and by this argument we conclude that the world is god. But a little later these matters will be more easily understood from the things the world itself produces. Meanwhile, Velleius, please do not parade your school’s utter lack of learning. You say that a cone, a cylinder, and a pyramid seem more beautiful to you than a sphere. Your eyes, too, have a novel way of judging! But let those shapes be more beautiful merely to look at—though even that I do not accept. What could be more beautiful than the one figure that embraces and contains every other figure, that can have no roughness or obstruction, no angular cuts or bends, no protrusions or hollows? There are two supremely excellent forms: among solids, the globe—for that is how I choose to translate the Greek ‘sphere’—and among plane figures, the circle or disk, called kyklos in Greek. These two forms alone have all their parts perfectly alike, and the outer edge everywhere equally distant from the center.

[2.48]
“Nothing could be more harmonious. But if you do not see this, because you have never touched the learned dust of geometry, could you not, even as natural philosophers, understand that this uniform motion and constant order could not have been maintained in any other shape? Nothing could therefore be more ignorant than the assertions you habitually make. You say that even this world is not certainly round, that it might have another shape, and that the countless other worlds have different shapes from one another.

[2.49]
“Epicurus would certainly not say such things if he had learned how much twice two makes. But while judging with his palate what is best, he failed to look up at ‘the palate of heaven,’ as Ennius calls it.

“There are two kinds of stars. One travels from east to west over unchanging distances, never deviating a step from its course; the other completes two continuous revolutions over the same distances and courses. Both reveal the world’s rotation, which could occur only in a globular shape, and the circular orbits of the stars.

“First comes the sun, which holds supremacy among the heavenly bodies. It moves in such a way that, after filling the earth with lavish light, it leaves that same earth in darkness, now in one region, now in another. For the earth’s own shadow, blocking the sun, produces night. The periods of night have the same regularity as those of day. The measured approach and withdrawal of that same sun regulate the degrees of cold and heat. For three hundred and sixty-five circuits of the sun, with about a quarter of a day added, complete the yearly revolution. Bending its course now toward the seven northern stars, now toward the south, the sun produces summers and winters, and the two seasons adjoining them, one following the waning winter, the other the summer. Thus the beginnings and causes of everything generated on land and sea derive from the changes of the four seasons.

[2.50]
“The moon, in its monthly periods, follows the sun’s yearly courses. Its light is faintest when it approaches closest to the sun, fullest whenever it withdraws farthest. Not only does its appearance and shape change, now waxing, now waning back to its beginning, but its position changes too. When this is northerly or southerly, there is something resembling a winter or summer solstice in the moon’s course as well. From the moon many influences stream and flow, nourishing living creatures and making them grow, and bringing the earth’s products to full development and maturity.

[2.51]
“Most wonderful, however, are the movements of those five stars falsely called ‘wanderers.’ Nothing wanders that preserves for all eternity its fixed and ordered forward and backward movements and all its other motions. This is the more wonderful in the stars we are discussing because they are now hidden, now revealed again; now they approach, now withdraw; now they move ahead, now follow behind; now they move faster, now more slowly; sometimes they do not move at all, but remain stationary for a time. From their differing motions mathematicians have named the Great Year, completed when the sun, moon, and five wandering stars have finished all their circuits and returned to the same positions relative to one another.

[2.52]
“How long this period is remains a great question, but it must be fixed and definite. The star called Saturn, which the Greeks name Phaenon, ‘the Shining One,’ is farthest from the earth and completes its course in about thirty years. In this course it produces many marvels, now advancing, now slowing, now disappearing in the evening, now revealing itself again in the morning; yet through the everlasting ages it never fails to produce the same effects at the same times. Below it, closer to the earth, travels the star of Jupiter, called Phaethon, ‘the Radiant One.’ It completes the same circle of twelve signs in twelve years and produces in its course the same variations as Saturn.

[2.53]
“The next orbit below belongs to Pyroeis, ‘the Fiery One,’ called the star of Mars. In twenty-four months less, I believe, six days, it traverses the same circle as the two above it. Below this is Mercury’s star—the Greeks call it Stilbon, ‘the Glittering One’—which traverses the zodiac in about a year and never departs more than one sign’s distance from the sun, now preceding it, now following. Lowest of the five wandering stars, and nearest the earth, is the star of Venus, called Phosphorus in Greek and Lucifer in Latin, ‘the Light-Bringer,’ when it precedes the sun, but Hesperus, ‘the Evening Star,’ when it follows. It completes its course in a year, traversing the breadth and length of the zodiac, as the higher stars also do. It never departs more than two signs’ distance from the sun, now preceding it, now following.

[2.54]
“I cannot understand this constancy in the stars, this immense agreement of their periods throughout all eternity amid such varied courses, without mind, reason, and purpose. Since we see these qualities in the stars, we cannot fail to count the stars themselves among the gods.

“Nor do the stars called fixed fail to show the same mind and foresight. Their daily revolution is harmonious and constant. Their courses are not part of the ether, nor are they attached to the sky, as most people say in their ignorance of natural science. For ether is not of such a nature that it can enfold the stars and whirl them about by its own force. Fine, translucent, and suffused with an even heat, ether does not seem well suited to holding the stars.

[2.55]
“The fixed stars therefore have their own sphere, separate and free from attachment to the ether. Their unceasing, perpetual courses, maintained with wonderful and incredible constancy, reveal that they possess divine power and intelligence. Anyone who does not perceive that these very stars possess the power of gods seems unlikely to perceive anything at all.

[2.56]
“In heaven, then, there is no chance, recklessness, wandering, or illusion; instead there is complete order, truth, reason, and constancy. Things devoid of these qualities, deceptive and false and full of error, move about the earth below the moon, the lowest of all the heavenly bodies, and upon the earth itself. Anyone who thinks that the wonderful order and incredible constancy of heaven, from which the preservation and safety of all things arise, are devoid of mind must himself be considered mindless.

[2.57]
“I shall not go wrong, I think, if I draw the beginning of this discussion from the foremost investigator of truth. Zeno defines nature as a creative fire advancing methodically toward generation. He thinks that creation and generation are the special function of art, and that what the hand accomplishes in the works of our arts, nature accomplishes with far greater artistry—that is, as I said, creative fire, the master of all the other arts. In this sense all nature is artistic, since it has, as it were, a method and path to follow.

[2.58]
“But the nature of the world itself, which embraces and contains everything within its compass, is described by the same Zeno as not merely artistic but an actual artist, planning and providing for every use and advantage. Just as all other natures are generated, grow, and are maintained through their own seeds, so the nature of the world has all its movements by choice. It applies its efforts and impulses—the Greeks call them hormai—and the actions corresponding to them, just as we ourselves do when moved by mind and sensation. Such, then, is the world’s intelligence, which for that reason can rightly be called prudence or providence—the Greek word is pronoia, ‘foresight.’ Above all, it provides for and chiefly occupies itself with these things: first, that the world should be as well fitted as possible to endure; next, that it should lack nothing; and most of all, that it should possess surpassing beauty and every splendor.

[2.59]
“We have spoken of the world as a whole, and of the stars as well. By now we can almost discern a multitude of gods, neither idle nor accomplishing what they do through toilsome and burdensome labor. They are not held together by veins, sinews, and bones; they do not consume foods or drinks that cause a buildup of humors too acrid or too thick; nor do they have bodies such that they dread accidents or blows, or fear illnesses arising from the exhaustion of their limbs. It was fear of these things that led Epicurus to invent gods like mere outlines, doing nothing.

[2.60]
“But these gods, endowed with the most beautiful form and stationed in the purest region of heaven, move and regulate their courses in such a way that they seem to have agreed together to preserve and protect everything.

“Many other divine natures have also been established and named, with good reason, both by the wisest men of Greece and by our ancestors, because of the great benefits they confer. Whatever brought great advantage to the human race was thought not to come about without divine goodness toward humanity. Sometimes, therefore, they called what a god had produced by the god’s own name, as when we call grain Ceres and wine Liber. Hence the line of

[2.61]
“Terence, ‘Without Ceres and Liber, Venus grows cold.’ At other times the thing itself, when it contains some greater power, is named in such a way that the power itself is called a god: Faith, for example, and Mind, whom we see enshrined on the Capitol, most recently by Marcus Aemilius Scaurus—though Faith had previously been consecrated by Aulus Atilius Calatinus. You see the temple of Virtue; you see that of Honor, restored by Marcus Marcellus, which Quintus Maximus had dedicated many years before, during the Ligurian war. What of Wealth, Safety, Concord, Liberty, Victory? Because the power of all these things was so great that it could not be governed without a god, the things themselves acquired the names of gods. From the same class come the consecrated names of Cupid, or Desire, Pleasure, and Venus the Goddess of Passion—things vicious rather than natural, though Velleius thinks otherwise. Still, these very vices often strike nature with unusual force.

[2.62]
“Thus the greatness of their benefits established as gods those who produced each benefit, and the names just mentioned declare the power belonging to each god.

“Human life and general custom have also adopted the practice of raising to heaven, in fame and gratitude, men distinguished for their services. Hence Hercules, Castor and Pollux, Aesculapius, and Liber too—I mean the Liber born of Semele, not the one our ancestors solemnly and reverently consecrated with Ceres and Libera. The nature of that worship can be understood from the mysteries. But because we call those born of us liberi, ‘children,’ the offspring of Ceres were named Liber and Libera: this connection is maintained in Libera’s case, but not likewise in Liber’s. Hence also Romulus, whom some consider identical with Quirinus. Since their souls survived and enjoyed eternity, they were rightly regarded as gods, being both supremely good and eternal.

[2.63]
“Another explanation, drawn from natural philosophy, has also given rise to a great multitude of gods. Clothed in human form, they have supplied poets with stories and filled human life with every kind of superstition. Zeno treated this subject, and Cleanthes and Chrysippus later explained it at greater length. For the ancient belief spread throughout Greece that Heaven was castrated by his son Saturn, and Saturn himself bound by his son Jupiter.

[2.64]
“A physical explanation of some elegance is enclosed in these impious stories. They meant that the highest, celestial, ethereal nature—that is, the fiery element—which generates everything by itself, lacks that part of the body which would require union with another to procreate. By Saturn they meant the power that maintains the course and revolution of periods and seasons. In Greek this god bears precisely that name: he is called Kronos, which is the same as chronos, ‘a span of time.’ He was called Saturnus because he is ‘sated,’ saturaretur, with years. The story represents him as habitually eating his own offspring, because time consumes its own periods and is insatiably filled with years gone by. He was bound by Jupiter so that his course should not be unrestrained, and so that Jupiter might bind him with the bonds of the stars. But Jupiter himself—that is, the ‘helping father,’ whom, with a change of grammatical form, we call Iovem, Jove, from iuvare, ‘to help’—is called by poets ‘father of gods and men,’ and by our ancestors ‘Best and Greatest.’ They put Best—that is, most beneficent—before Greatest, because to benefit everyone is greater, and certainly more welcome, than to possess great power.

[2.65]
“Ennius, then, names him as I said above, in these words: ‘Look at this shining height, which all invoke as Jupiter’—more plainly than in another passage of his: ‘Against him, with all the power I have, I shall invoke this shining thing, whatever it is.’ Our augurs also mean him when they say, ‘When Jove lightens and thunders’; for they mean, ‘When the sky lightens and thunders.’ Euripides, among his many splendid sayings, puts this briefly:
‘You see the boundless ether spread on high,

which holds the earth in its soft, encircling clasp:

account him highest of the gods; call him Jove.’

[2.66]
“The air, however, lying between sea and heaven, is consecrated under Juno’s name, as the Stoics argue. She is Jupiter’s sister and wife because air resembles ether and is most closely joined with it. They made air feminine and assigned it to Juno because nothing is softer. But I believe Juno’s name comes from iuvare, ‘to help.’ Water and earth remained, to make the three kingdoms of the stories. Thus the entire kingdom of the sea was given to Neptune, another brother of Jupiter, as we maintain. Just as Portunus comes from porta, ‘a gate,’ so Neptune’s name was derived from nare, ‘to swim,’ with a slight change in the first letters. All the power and nature of earth was dedicated to Father Dis, ‘the Rich,’ called Pluton by the Greeks, because everything both returns to the earth and arises from it. †To him they assign Proserpina—a Greek name, for she is the one called Persephone in Greek. They mean her to be the seed of grain, and tell how her mother searches for her in hiding.

[2.67]
“Her mother is Ceres, from gerere, ‘to bear’ crops, as though her name were Geres, with the first letter changed, as also happens in Greek; for they too named her Demeter, as though ge meter, ‘Earth Mother.’ Mavors is the one who magna verteret, ‘overturns mighty things’; Minerva is she who either minueret, ‘diminishes,’ or minaretur, ‘threatens.’ Since beginnings and endings have the greatest force in everything, they gave Janus first place in sacrifices. His name derives from ire, ‘to go,’ and from this open passageways are called iani and doors at the thresholds of secular buildings ianuae. Vesta’s name comes from the Greeks, for she is the one they call Hestia, ‘Hearth.’ Her power concerns altars and hearths, and therefore all prayer and sacrifice end with this goddess, because she guards the innermost things.

[2.68]
“The Household Gods are not far removed from this power. Their name, Penates, comes either from penus—for that means the whole store of human food—or from their dwelling ‘deep within,’ penitus. For this reason poets also call them penetrales, ‘gods of the inner sanctuary.’ Apollo’s name, again, is Greek. They identify him with the sun, and think Diana and the moon likewise one and the same. The sun is called sol either because it is solus, alone among all the stars is so great, or because, when it rises and all the others are obscured, it alone appears. The moon, luna, is named from lucere, ‘to shine.’ She is also Lucina, the Light-Bringer; and so, just as the Greeks invoke Diana as the Light-Bringer in childbirth, our people invoke Juno Lucina. The same Diana is called ‘All-Wandering,’ not from hunting, but because she is numbered among the seven so-called wanderers.

[2.69]
“She was called Diana because at night she makes something like diem, ‘day.’ She is called upon in childbirth because pregnancies reach their term sometimes in seven, but usually in nine, circuits of the moon. These are called menses, ‘months,’ because they complete mensa spatia, ‘measured periods.’ Timaeus, neatly as in many other passages, after recording in his history that the temple of Diana at Ephesus burned down on the night Alexander was born, added that this was hardly surprising: Diana had wished to attend Olympias in labor and so had been away from home. The goddess who veniret, ‘comes,’ to all things our people named Venus; and venustas, ‘charm,’ derives from her name, rather than Venus from charm.

[2.70]
“Do you see, then, how a sound and useful understanding of natural things has been drawn aside toward imaginary, invented gods? This has bred false opinions, confused errors, and superstitions fit almost for old women. We know the gods’ shapes, ages, clothing, and adornment; their lineages, marriages, and kinships too—everything reduced to the likeness of human weakness. They are even represented with troubled minds: we have been told of the gods’ desires, sorrows, and fits of anger. Nor, according to the stories, have they been free from wars and battles, not merely as in Homer, when different gods defended the opposing armies, but even fighting their own wars against the Titans and the Giants. To tell and believe these things is utter foolishness; they are full of absurdity and the utmost frivolity.

[2.71]
“But once these stories have been scorned and rejected, we shall be able to understand who and what the gods are, and by what names custom has called them: the god pervading the nature of each thing, Ceres throughout the earth, Neptune throughout the sea, and the others in their several realms. These gods we ought to revere and worship. The best worship of the gods, the purest, holiest, and fullest of devotion, is always to revere them with mind and voice pure, whole, and uncorrupted. For not only philosophers but our ancestors too distinguished superstition from religion.

[2.72]
“Those who spent whole days praying and sacrificing that their children might ‘survive’ them were called superstitiosi, ‘superstitious,’ from superstites, ‘survivors’—a word whose meaning later grew wider. Those, however, who diligently reconsidered and, as it were, ‘reread’ everything belonging to the worship of the gods were called religiosi, ‘religious,’ from relegere, ‘to reread’; just as elegantes, ‘discerning,’ comes from eligere, ‘to choose,’ [just as] diligentes, ‘diligent,’ comes from diligere, ‘to cherish,’ and intellegentes, ‘intelligent,’ from intellegere, ‘to understand.’ All these Latin words contain the same force of legere, ‘to gather or read,’ as ‘religious’ does. Thus ‘superstitious’ became a term of blame, ‘religious’ one of praise. I think I have now sufficiently shown both that gods exist and what they are like.

[2.73]
“Next I must show that the world is governed by the providence of the gods. This is certainly a great subject, and one much assailed by your school, Cotta; indeed our whole contest is with you. For your school, Velleius, is less familiar with the way each doctrine is stated. You read only your own writings, cherish only your own, and condemn the others without hearing their case. Yesterday, for example, you yourself said that the Stoics introduce an old fortune-teller called Pronoia—that is, Providence. You said this through the mistaken belief that they invent providence as a separate goddess who governs and rules the entire world.

[2.74]
“But the expression is abbreviated. If someone says that the Athenian state is governed by a council, the words ‘of the Areopagus’ are left out; likewise, when we say that the world is governed by providence, understand that ‘of the gods’ is left out. Consider the full and complete expression to be this: the world is governed by the providence of the gods. So please do not expend on ridiculing us that wit which your tribe lacks. And, by Hercules, if you take my advice, do not even try: it does not suit you, you have no gift for it, you cannot do it. This applies not to you alone, polished as you are by our native manners and the urbane ways of our people, but to the rest of your school, and especially to its founder—a man without skill or learning, insulting everyone, with no sharpness, no dignity, no grace.

[2.75]
“I say, then, that the world and all its parts were established in the beginning, and are governed at every moment, by the providence of the gods. Our school generally divides this argument into three parts. The first derives from the reasoning that proves the existence of the gods: once this is granted, we must admit that the world is governed by their wisdom. The second shows that everything is subject to a sentient nature and that everything is managed by it in the most beautiful way. Once this is established, it follows that this nature arose from living first principles. The third argument derives from wonder at the things of heaven and earth.

[2.76]
“First, then, either we must deny that gods exist—as Democritus and Epicurus in a sense do, by introducing their apparitions and images—or those who grant that gods exist must admit that they do something, and something splendid. But nothing is more splendid than the governance of the world. It is therefore governed by the wisdom of the gods. If not, something must certainly exist that is better and more powerful than god, whatever it may be: either a lifeless nature or a necessity driven by mighty force, producing these most beautiful works we see.

[2.77]
“The nature of the gods, then, is not supreme in power or excellence if it is subject to that necessity or nature which rules heaven, sea, and land. But nothing surpasses god; therefore he must rule the world. God is consequently obedient or subject to no nature; he himself, therefore, rules all nature. For if we grant that the gods are intelligent, we also grant that they exercise foresight, and about matters of the greatest importance. Do they not know, then, what matters are greatest and how they must be handled and protected? Or do they lack the power to sustain and manage such great affairs? Ignorance is alien to the divine nature, and difficulty in fulfilling a task through weakness is utterly incompatible with the gods’ majesty. Thus we reach the conclusion we seek: the world is governed by the providence of the gods.

[2.78]
“Moreover, since gods exist—if indeed they do, as they certainly do—they must be living beings; and not merely living, but rational, joined together in something like a civic bond and fellowship, governing the one world as a common state and city.

[2.79]
“It follows that they possess the same reason as the human race, and that both share the same truth and the same law, which commands right and drives away wrong. From this we understand that wisdom and intelligence have also come to humans from the gods. For that reason, by ancestral institutions, Mind, Faith, Virtue, and Concord have been consecrated and publicly enshrined. How can it be consistent to deny that the gods possess these qualities, when we revere their august and holy images? If mind, faith, virtue, and concord exist among human beings, from where could they have flowed down to earth but from above? And since judgment, reason, and wisdom exist in us, the gods must possess these same qualities in a higher degree, and not merely possess them but employ them in the greatest and best affairs.

[2.80]
“But nothing is greater or better than the world; therefore it must be governed by the wisdom and providence of the gods. Finally, we have sufficiently shown that those beings whose outstanding power and radiant appearance we see are gods—I mean the sun and moon, the wandering and fixed stars, heaven, the world itself, and the power of those things throughout the whole world that bring great use and advantage to the human race. It follows that everything is governed by divine mind and foresight. Enough has now been said about the first part.

[2.81]
“Next I must show that everything is subject to nature, and is managed by her in the most beautiful way. But first we must briefly explain what nature herself is, so that the point we wish to prove may be more readily understood. Some think nature is a certain irrational force that sets necessary movements going in bodies. Others think it a force possessing reason and order, advancing, as it were, along a methodical path and revealing what it produces, for what purpose, and what end it pursues. No art, no hand, no craftsman can match her skill by imitation. A seed has such power that, tiny though it is, if it falls into a nature that receives and embraces it, and finds material by which it can be nourished and increased, it shapes and produces things each after its own kind: some merely to be nourished through their roots, others also to move, feel, seek what they desire, and generate their own likeness from themselves.

[2.82]
“Some, however, apply the name ‘nature’ to everything: Epicurus, for example, whose division makes the nature of all that exists consist of bodies, void, and their properties. But when we say that the world is constituted and governed by nature, we do not mean like a clod or a fragment of stone or something of that sort, with no inherent principle of cohesion, but like a tree or an animal, in which no randomness appears, but order and something resembling art.

[2.83]
“If the things held in the earth by roots live and flourish through nature’s art, surely the earth herself is sustained by that same power, by nature’s art. Pregnant with seeds, she bears everything and pours it out from herself; embracing roots, she nourishes and increases them, and is herself nourished in turn by the higher, external elements. Her exhalations nourish the air, the ether, and everything above. Thus, if the earth is sustained and made vigorous by nature, the same principle holds throughout the rest of the world. Plants cling to the earth, while living creatures are sustained by breathing air. Air itself sees with us, hears with us, sounds with us, for none of these things can occur without it. It even moves with us: wherever we go, wherever we move, it seems, as it were, to make room and yield.

[2.84]
“The things borne toward the world’s center, which is its lowest point, those borne upward from the center, and those carried in circular revolution around the center form the world’s continuous and single nature. There are four kinds of bodies, and through their interchange the world’s nature is kept continuous. From earth comes water, from water air, from air ether; then in reverse order, from ether air, from air water, and from water earth, the lowest element. Thus, as the elements of which everything consists pass upward and downward, to and fro, the union of the world’s parts is maintained.”

[2.85]
“It must either be everlasting, with the very arrangement we see, or at least endure for an immense and almost measureless stretch of time. Whichever is true, it follows that nature governs the world. For what fleet under sail, what army drawn up for battle—or, to compare instead the works of nature, what growth of vine or tree, what living creature’s shape and arrangement of limbs—reveals as much ingenuity in nature as the world itself? Either, then, nothing is governed by a conscious nature, or we must acknowledge that the world is.”

[2.86]
“Indeed, since it embraces all other natures and their seeds, how can it itself fail to be governed by nature? Anyone who said that teeth and puberty arise by nature, but that the human being in whom they arise is not constituted by nature, would fail to understand that things which bring something forth from themselves possess more perfect natures than the things brought forth. Of everything governed by nature, the world is the inseminator, the sower, the parent, so to speak, the rearer and the sustainer; it nourishes and embraces everything as its own members and parts. But if the parts of the world are governed by nature, the world itself must be governed by nature. And in its government there is nothing to find fault with: out of the natures that existed, the best possible result has been achieved.”

[2.87]
“Let someone show, then, that it could have been better. No one ever will; and anyone who tries to correct anything will either make it worse or demand what could not have been done.”

“But if all the world’s parts are so constituted that they could neither be better suited to use nor more beautiful to behold, let us consider whether they are the work of chance, or are in a condition in which they could never have held together without the guidance of consciousness and divine providence. If, then, the achievements of nature are better than those of art, and art achieves nothing without reason, nature too must be held to possess reason. How is it consistent, when you see a statue or a painting, to recognize the application of art; when you see a ship moving in the distance, not to doubt that reason and skill direct its movement; or when you examine a sundial or a water clock, to understand that it tells the hours by art, not chance—and yet to suppose that the world, which embraces those very arts, their craftsmen, and everything else, is devoid of design and reason?”

[2.88]
“If someone took to Scythia or Britain the sphere recently made by our friend Posidonius, whose successive revolutions reproduce in the sun, the moon, and the five wandering stars the same movements that occur in heaven through successive days and nights, who in those uncivilized lands would doubt that reason had gone into its construction? Yet these men wonder whether the world, from which all things arise and come into being, was itself made by chance, by some necessity, or by divine reason and intelligence. They suppose that Archimedes showed greater powers in imitating the revolutions of the sphere than nature showed in producing them—although the originals were fashioned with many times the ingenuity of their imitations.”

[2.89]
“Think of the shepherd in Accius, who had never seen a ship before. When from his mountain he first caught sight, far off, of the Argonauts’ strange, divine vessel, he spoke in wonder and terror:
Such a mighty mass comes gliding,

roaring from the deep with vast sound and breath;

it rolls the waves before it, violently raises eddies,

rushes headlong on, sprays the sea and blows it back.

“Now you would think a broken storm cloud rolled along,

now that a rock, hurled high by winds or storms,

was swept away, or rounded whirlwinds

rose from the clashing blows of waves—

unless the sea is raising havoc from the land,

or Triton, overturning caverns with his trident

deep beneath their roots in the surging strait,

has torn a rocky mass from the abyss up to the sky.
At first he cannot tell the nature of the unfamiliar thing he sees. Then, when he has seen the young men and heard the sailors’ song:
Like dolphins, †swift and eager, snorting through their snouts—
—and much else in the same vein—
A song like the melody

of Silvanus reaches his ears and hearing
—”

[2.90]
“Just as he believes at first sight that he is looking at something lifeless and without feeling, but afterward, from surer signs, begins to suspect the nature of what he had doubted, so the philosophers, if perhaps the world’s first appearance bewildered them, should afterward have seen its movements confined to their bounds and uniform, everything regulated in fixed ranks and with unalterable constancy, and understood that this heavenly, divine house contains not merely an inhabitant but a ruler and governor, the architect, as it were, of so great a work and so great a gift.”

“As things stand, they seem to me not even to suspect how marvelous the things of heaven and earth are.”

[2.91]
“To begin with, the earth, set in the middle of the world, is surrounded on every side by this life-giving, breathable substance called air—a Greek word, certainly, but one our people have now adopted through use: it passes freely as Latin. Air in turn is embraced by the boundless ether, composed of the fires on high. Let us borrow that word too, and say ‘ether’ in Latin as we say ‘air,’ although Pacuvius translates it: ‘What I speak of, our people call heaven; the Greeks call it ether’—as though the speaker were not himself a Greek. ‘But he is speaking Latin.’ Only if we are not to hear him as though he were speaking Greek! The same poet makes the point elsewhere:”

[2.92]
“‘Greek-born: his very speech reveals it.’ But let us return to greater matters. From the ether, then, arise the countless flames of the stars. Foremost among them is the sun, illuminating everything with its dazzling light, many times larger and more extensive than the whole earth; next come the other heavenly bodies, of immense size. These fires, so vast and so numerous, not only do no harm to the earth and earthly things, but benefit them so greatly that, if they were moved from their places and their heat lost its balance and restraint, the earth would inevitably burn up beneath those mighty blazes.”

[2.93]
“Am I not to wonder, then, that anyone can persuade himself that certain solid, indivisible bodies are borne along by their own force and weight, and that from the chance collision of these bodies the world is made, with all its beauty and order? If someone thinks this could have happened, I cannot understand why he should not also believe that, if countless copies of the twenty-one letters, made of gold or whatever material you please, were thrown together somewhere and then shaken out onto the ground, they could produce the Annals of Ennius in their proper, readable sequence. I doubt whether chance could accomplish so much even in a single line.”

[2.94]
“Yet how confidently these men assert that the world was made from tiny bodies possessing neither color nor any quality—poiotēs in Greek—nor sensation, but colliding at random and by chance; or rather that countless worlds are being born and others perishing at every instant! But if the collision of atoms can make a world, why can it not make a colonnade, a temple, a house, a city, which are less laborious—and many things easier still? Certainly they babble so recklessly about the world that I think they have never looked up at this marvelous array of heaven, which is the next subject before us.”

[2.95]
“Aristotle puts it admirably: ‘Suppose there were people who had always lived underground in fine, well-lit houses, adorned with statues and paintings and furnished with everything that those reputed fortunate possess in abundance. Suppose, however, that they had never come above ground, but had learned by report and hearsay that there was some divine presence and power. Then suppose that at some time the earth’s jaws opened and they could escape those hidden dwellings and emerge into these regions where we live. When they suddenly saw earth, sea, and sky; when they learned the vastness of the clouds and the force of the winds; when they gazed at the sun and learned not only its size and beauty but its power as well, since it makes the day by pouring light through the whole sky; and when night darkened the earth and they saw the entire sky picked out and adorned with stars, the moon’s changing brightness as it waxes and wanes, and the rising and setting of them all, their courses fixed and unalterable through all eternity—when they saw these things, they would surely believe both that gods exist and that these mighty works are the gods’ creation.’”

[2.96]
“So much for his words. Let us imagine instead a darkness as deep as that which is said once to have shrouded the neighboring regions when Etna’s fires erupted, so that for two days no one could recognize another person. When the sun shone on the third day, they felt they had come to life again. If this same thing happened to us after an eternity of darkness, and we suddenly saw the light, how would heaven appear to us? But daily familiarity and habitual seeing accustom our minds; we neither marvel at the things we always see nor seek their explanations—as though their novelty, rather than their greatness, ought to move us to inquire into their causes.”

[2.97]
“For who would call someone human if, after seeing the heavens’ movements so sure, the stars’ ranks so fixed, and everything so closely joined and fitted together, he denied that any reason was present in them and said that things happen by chance whose designing wisdom all our wisdom cannot fathom? When we see something moving by a mechanism—a sphere, a clock, or any of countless other things—we have no doubt that these are works of reason. But when we see the onrush of heaven moving and revolving with marvelous speed, completing its yearly alternations with perfect constancy and with the utmost benefit to the safety and preservation of everything, can we doubt that this comes about not merely through reason, but through reason surpassing and divine?”

[2.98]
“For now we may set aside the subtleties of argument and contemplate, with our eyes as it were, the beauty of the things we say divine providence has established.”

“First let us look at the earth as a whole, set in the world’s central seat, solid and spherical, drawn together on every side into a globe by its own inward pull, clothed in flowers, grasses, trees, and crops, all of them in incredible profusion, set apart by a variety of which we never tire. Add the cool, unfailing flow of springs, the translucent streams of rivers, the banks robed in deepest green, the hollow depths of caves, the rugged rocks, the heights of overhanging mountains and the immensity of plains. Add, too, the hidden veins of gold and silver and the endless supply of marble.”

[2.99]
“Then what kinds of animals there are, and how various, tame and wild alike! How birds glide and sing, how cattle graze, how woodland creatures live! What need I say of the human race? Established, as it were, as cultivators of the earth, they allow it neither to grow savage with monstrous beasts nor to become a wilderness of rough undergrowth. Through their labors fields, islands, and shores shine, marked out with houses and cities. If we could see these things with our eyes as we can in our minds, no one surveying the whole earth would doubt divine reason.”

[2.100]
“And how beautiful the sea is! What a sight it presents as a whole, what a multitude and variety of islands, what delightful coasts and shores! How many kinds of creatures, how unlike one another: some submerged, some floating and swimming, others clinging to rocks in the shells in which they were born! The sea itself, reaching toward the land, plays along the shores so that the two elements seem fused into one.”

[2.101]
“Next, the air bordering the sea changes between day and night. Sometimes it spreads and thins and rises on high; sometimes it thickens, gathers into clouds, collects moisture, and enriches the earth with rain; sometimes it streams this way and that and produces winds. It also brings the yearly changes of cold and heat; it supports the flight of birds, and, drawn in as breath, nourishes and sustains living creatures.”

“Last remains the encompassing vault of heaven, farthest above our homes, encircling and containing everything. This is also called ether, the outermost edge and boundary of the world; within it fiery forms trace out their ordered courses in a most marvelous way.”

[2.102]
“Among them the sun, many times greater in size than the earth, revolves around that very earth. Rising and setting, it makes day and night; now approaching, now withdrawing, it makes two opposite turnings back from its farthest points in each year. Between these it now makes the earth shrink, as though in sadness, and now gladdens it in turn, so that it seems to smile in joy with the sky.”

[2.103]
“The moon, which, as mathematicians show, is larger than half the earth, travels through the same region as the sun. Now joining the sun, now leaving it, it sends down to earth the light it has received from the sun, while undergoing various changes of light itself. Sometimes, too, it passes beneath the sun and stands in its way, obscuring its rays and light; at other times, falling into the earth’s shadow when directly opposite the sun, it is suddenly eclipsed by the earth’s intervention and interposition. Through the same region the stars we call wandering travel around the earth, and rise and set in the same fashion. Their movements now quicken, now slow,”

[2.104]
“and often even come to a halt: no spectacle can be more wonderful or more beautiful. Next comes the immense multitude of fixed stars, so arranged and distinguished that they have acquired names from their likeness to familiar shapes.”

At this point he looked at me and said, “I shall use the verses of Aratus, which you translated when you were very young. Because they are in Latin, they give me such pleasure that I remember many of them. So, as we constantly see with our eyes, without any alteration or change,
all the other heavenly bodies glide in swift motion,

and are borne with heaven itself through nights and days,”

[2.105]
“and no mind eager to see nature’s constancy can ever have enough of contemplating them.
And the extreme point at either end of the axis

is called the pole.
Around this the two Bears are borne, never setting.
Of these, one is called Cynosura among the Greeks,

the other is named Helice.
We see her brightest stars throughout the night, those which
our people have been accustomed to call the Seven Plow Oxen;”

[2.106]
“and little Cynosura, marked out in the same way with the same number of stars, circles the same summit of the sky.
In her as guide the Phoenicians trust by night upon the deep.

“But the former shines more brightly, picked out with stars,

and is seen far and wide as soon as night begins.

“This one is small, but in her lies the sailors’ advantage,

for she turns on an inner course, in a narrow circle.
And to make the sight of these stars more wonderful,
between them, like a river with a racing current,

the grim Dragon winds, coiling above and below

and forming curving loops out of his body.”

[2.107]
“His whole appearance is splendid, but especially worth seeing are the shape of his head and his blazing eyes:
Not one star alone shines to adorn his head,

but his temples are marked with a double gleam,

and two hot lights blaze from his savage eyes,

while his chin shines with a single radiant star.

“His head is tilted, bent back on a rounded neck;

you would say he fixes his gaze on the Greater Bear’s tail.”

[2.108]
“And we see the rest of the Dragon’s body throughout the night;
here this head suddenly hides itself for a little while,

where rising and setting mingle in a single region.
Touching that head,
a weary figure, like a mourner,

revolves,
which the Greeks
call Engonasin, the Kneeler, because he is borne along upon his knees.

“Here is set that Crown with its exceptional brilliance.
It lies behind him; near his head is the Serpent Bearer,
whom the Greeks call by the famous name Ophiuchus.”

[2.109]
“He holds the Snake in the twofold grip of his hands,

and is himself bound fast by its coiling body,

for the Serpent girdles the man below his breast.

“Yet, bracing himself, he plants his feet heavily

and presses the Scorpion’s eyes and breast beneath them.
Following the Seven Plow Oxen comes
Arctophylax, the Bear Watcher, commonly called Boötes,

because he drives the Bear before him, yoked as to a wagon pole.
Then come the following lines:”

[2.110]
“‘Beneath his’—that is, Boötes’—
breast there seems fastened

a star flashing with rays, Arcturus, its illustrious name.
Below his feet is borne
Virgo, her body shining, holding the brilliant Ear of Grain.
And the constellations are so laid out that divine ingenuity appears in these vast designs:
Beneath the Bear’s head you will see the Twin Sons;

under her middle is the Crab, and beneath her feet

the great Lion, shaking a tremulous flame from his body.
The Charioteer
will be borne beneath the Twins’ left side.

“Grim Helice watches his head before her.

“And the bright Goat occupies his left shoulder.
Then the following:
But she is endowed with a great and brilliant star;

in contrast, the Kids cast only a little fire upon mortals.
Beneath his feet
stands the horned Bull, braced upon his mighty body.
His head is thickly sprinkled with stars;”

[2.111]
“these stars the Greeks have been accustomed to call the Hyades,
from raining—for hyein in Greek means ‘to rain.’ Our people ignorantly call them Suculae, the ‘Little Pigs,’ as though they were named for pigs, not showers. Behind the Lesser Bear follows Cepheus with outstretched hands;
for he wheels just behind the Cynosuran Bear.
Before him goes
Cassiopeia, with a dim appearance of stars.

“Close beside her turns Andromeda, her body bright,

fleeing sorrowfully from her parent’s gaze.

“That Horse, shaking his mane with flashing brilliance,

touches the top of her head with his belly, and one star

joins them, holding two forms in its shared light,

seeking to bind an everlasting knot of stars.

“Next clings the Ram with his twisted horns.
Beside him are
the Fishes, one of which glides a little ahead

and feels more keenly the North Wind’s shivering blasts.”

[2.112]
“At Andromeda’s feet Perseus is outlined,
whom blasts from the farthest north strike.
Beside
his left knee

you will see the Pleiades with their faint light.

“Then the Lyre is seen, lightly poised and curved.
Then
there is the winged Bird beneath the sky’s broad canopy.
Nearest the Horse’s head is the Water Bearer’s right hand, and then the whole Water Bearer. Next,
breathing icy cold from his mighty breast,

half-beast in body, comes Capricorn in the great circle;

when Titan has clothed him in unceasing light,

he turns and wheels his chariot at the winter solstice.”

[2.113]
“Here too is seen
the Scorpion, emerging high and showing himself,

dragging the curving Bow behind with his body’s force.
Beside it
the Bird, bright with feathers, wheels about.

“And close by the Eagle bears itself along, its body blazing.
Next the Dolphin.
Then Orion, leaning forward with slanting body.”

[2.114]
“Following him,
that burning Dog with the light of stars
shines out. Behind it follows the Hare,
never slackening its race with wearied body.

“And by the Dog’s tail Argo glides, winding along.

“The Ram covers her, and the scaly-bodied Fishes,

as her brilliant body touches the River’s banks.
You will see that River ‘winding’ and flowing far away,
and you will see the long Bonds,

placed at the Fishes’ tails to hold them fast.

“Then beside the Scorpion’s shining sting you will see

the Altar, caressed by the breath of the South Wind.
Beside these the Centaur
advances, hurrying to bring his horse’s parts beneath the Claws.

“Here, stretching out his right hand, which holds the huge four-footed beast,

he reaches forward and fiercely approaches the shining Altar.

“Here the Hydra raises herself from the lower regions;
her body stretches far,
and in the middle of her coil the gleaming Bowl shines out.

“At her far end the Raven, bright with feathered body,

strikes her with its beak; and here, just under the Twins, is that star

called Before-the-Dog, which bears the Greek name Procyon.”

[2.115]
“Can anyone in his senses suppose that this whole design of stars and this mighty adornment of heaven could have been made from bodies rushing here and there at random and by chance? Or could any other nature, devoid of mind and reason, have produced things which not only required reason to be made, but cannot be understood for what they are without reason of the highest order?”

“And these are not the only marvels. Nothing is greater than the world’s stability and coherence: nothing even imaginable could be better fitted to endure. For all its parts, seeking the center from every side, press toward it equally. And bodies remain joined together most firmly when bound as though by a cord passing around them. This is what that nature does which pervades the whole world, accomplishing everything by mind and reason, and draws and turns its outermost parts toward the center.”

[2.116]
“Therefore, if the world is spherical, and for that reason all its parts, evenly balanced on every side, are held together both in themselves and with one another, the same must happen with the earth. All its parts must tend toward the center—and in a sphere the center is the lowest point—so that nothing breaks the pull of gravity and weight and thereby weakens that mighty tension. In the same way the sea, though above the earth, nevertheless seeks the earth’s center and is drawn evenly into a sphere on every side: it never overflows or spills away.”

[2.117]
“The air adjoining it is indeed borne upward by its lightness, yet it spreads itself in every direction. Thus it is continuous and joined with the sea, and is naturally carried toward heaven; tempered by heaven’s fineness and heat, it supplies living creatures with a life-giving, wholesome breath. The highest part of heaven, called the ethereal region, embraces it, retains its own fine heat, unthickened by any admixture, and joins with the outermost air. In the ether the stars revolve, held together in globes by their own inward pressure, their shape and form themselves maintaining their balance. For they are round, the forms which, as I think I said before, are least vulnerable to injury.”

[2.118]
“The stars are fiery by nature. They are therefore nourished by the vapors of the earth, the sea, and the other waters, which the sun raises from the warming fields and from the waters. Sustained and renewed by these, the stars and the whole ether pour them out and draw them back again from the same place, so that almost nothing is lost, or only the very little consumed by the stars’ fire and the ether’s flame. From this our school believes that the event about which Panaetius was said to have doubts will follow: in the end the whole world will catch fire. Once the moisture is consumed, the earth could no longer be nourished, nor could air return, since with all water exhausted it could not arise. Thus nothing would remain but fire, and from it, as a living being and a god, the world would be renewed and the same ordered beauty arise again.”

[2.119]
“I do not wish to seem to you to dwell too long on the system of the stars, especially those called wandering. Their utterly unlike movements produce such harmony: the highest, Saturn, brings cold; Mars, in the middle, brings heat; Jupiter, set between them, brings light and tempers their extremes. Below Mars two stars obey the sun, while the sun itself fills the whole world with its light, and the moon, illuminated by it, brings pregnancy and birth and the ripening of new life. If this union of things, this fitting together of nature as though in agreement for the world’s preservation, leaves anyone unmoved, I know for certain that he has never reflected on any of these things.”

[2.120]
“Come, let us pass from things in heaven to things on earth. What is there here in which the reason of an intelligent nature does not appear? First, the roots of things that grow from the earth give stability to what they support and draw from the earth the sap that nourishes what is held by those roots. Trunks are covered with an inner or outer bark to give them greater protection from cold and heat. Vines, indeed, grasp their supports with tendrils as though with hands, and raise themselves up like living creatures. They are even said to recoil from cabbage stalks, if these are planted nearby, as from something deadly and harmful, and never to touch them at any point.”

[2.121]
“How great is the variety of living creatures, and how great their power to perpetuate each its own kind! Some are covered with hides, others clothed in shaggy hair, others bristling with spines. We see some overlaid with feathers, others with scales; some armed with horns, others given wings for escape. Nature has provided living creatures richly and abundantly with the food suited to each. I could recount the adaptations in their shapes for taking and digesting that food, the ingenious, delicate design of their parts, and the marvelous workmanship of their limbs. For everything enclosed within them has grown and been placed so that nothing is superfluous, nothing unnecessary to the maintenance of life.”

[2.122]
“The same nature has given animals both sensation and appetite: through the latter they strive to obtain their natural food, and through the former they distinguish the harmful from the wholesome. Again, some animals approach their food by walking, others by crawling, others by flying or swimming. Some seize it with their gaping mouths and their teeth themselves, some snatch it with the grip of claws, some with hooked beaks; some suck, some pluck, some gulp, some chew. Some, too, are so low to the ground that they easily reach food on it with their snouts; taller creatures, such as geese, swans, cranes, and camels, are helped by the length of their necks.”

[2.123]
“The elephant has even been given a hand, because its great bulk made access to food difficult. But to beasts whose food consists of †creatures of another kind, nature has given either strength or speed. Some have also been given a certain inventiveness and ingenuity. Among little spiders, for example, some weave a kind of net to dispatch whatever gets caught in it, while others […] lie in wait to take their prey by surprise; if anything falls into their reach, they snatch and devour it. The pinna—for that is its Greek name—with its two large, open shells, enters into a sort of partnership with a small shrimp to procure food. When little fish have swum into the gaping shell, the shrimp warns the pinna by a bite, and the pinna closes its shells. Thus two utterly unlike little creatures seek their food in common.”

[2.124]
“Here the wonder is whether they have joined together by some agreement or have been brought together from birth by nature herself. There is also much to wonder at in those aquatic animals that are born on land. Crocodiles, for instance, river turtles, and certain snakes, born out of water, seek water as soon as they can move. Indeed, we often put ducks’ eggs under hens. At first the young, when hatched, are fed by the hens as their mothers, which hatched and brooded them; then, as soon as they can see water, their natural home, they leave the hens and escape when they follow. So great a vigilance for self-preservation has nature implanted in living creatures. I have also read an account of a bird called the spoonbill, which seeks its food by flying up to birds that dive into the sea. When they emerge with a fish they have caught, it grips their heads in its beak and presses until they drop their catch; then it seizes the fish itself. This same bird is said habitually to fill itself with shellfish, digest them with the heat of its stomach, vomit them up, and so pick out what is edible.”

[2.125]
“Sea frogs are said to bury themselves in sand and move near the water; when fish approach them as though they were food, the frogs kill and devour them. There is a sort of natural war between kite and raven: each therefore breaks the other’s eggs wherever it finds them. And who can fail to marvel at this observation of Aristotle, from whom most of these accounts come? When cranes cross the seas in search of warmer regions, they form a triangle. At its foremost angle they push back the air in their path; then, gradually along either side, their wings act like oars to ease the birds’ passage. The triangle’s base, formed by the cranes, is helped by the winds as though from astern; and they rest their necks and heads on the backs of those flying ahead. The leader himself cannot do this, having nothing to lean on, so he flies back to rest in his turn, and one of those that have rested takes his place. This alternation is maintained throughout the journey.”

[2.126]
“I could give many examples of this kind, but you see their general character. More familiar still is the great care beasts take of themselves: how they look around while feeding, how they hide in their lairs. And these things are wonderful: dogs cure themselves by vomiting, and Egyptian ibises by purging their bowels—remedies that physicians’ ingenuity discovered only recently, that is, a few centuries ago. We have heard that panthers, trapped in foreign lands with poisoned meat, have a remedy which they use to escape death. Wild goats in Crete, when pierced by poisoned arrows, are said to seek a plant called dittany; when they have tasted it, the arrows fall from their bodies.”

[2.127]
“And shortly before giving birth, hinds purge themselves with a little plant called seseli. Again, we see how each creature defends itself with its own weapons against force and fear: bulls with horns, boars with tusks, lions by charging. Some protect themselves by flight, others by concealment; cuttlefish by pouring out ink, torpedo fish by numbing their foes; many also drive off pursuers with an unbearably foul smell.”

“To make the world’s adornment perpetual, the providence of the gods has taken great care that the kinds of animals, trees, and everything rooted in the earth should always exist. All these possess within themselves the power of seed, so that many may be generated from one. This seed is enclosed in the innermost part of the fruits produced by each plant; these same seeds both provide abundant food for human beings and fill the earth with new plants of the same kind.”

[2.128]
“Need I speak of the wisdom that appears in animals for the perpetual preservation of their kind? First, some are male, others female, an arrangement nature devised for perpetuation; next, their bodily parts are perfectly suited to begetting and conceiving, and both male and female feel extraordinary desires to join their bodies. When the seed has settled in its place, it draws almost all nourishment to itself, and, surrounded by this, shapes a living creature. Once this has slipped out and fallen from the womb, in animals nourished by milk almost all the mothers’ food begins to turn to milk; and the newborn, with no teacher but nature for their guide, seek the breasts and are filled from their abundance. To make us understand that none of this is accidental and that all of it is the work of a provident, ingenious nature, creatures that produce many young, such as pigs and dogs, have been given many teats, while those that bear few have few.”

[2.129]
“Need I speak of the great love animals show in rearing and guarding their offspring until they can defend themselves? Fish, admittedly, are said to abandon their eggs when they have laid them, since the water easily supports the eggs, and the young hatch from them. Turtles and crocodiles, too, are said to bury their eggs after laying them on land and then depart; thus the young are born and rear themselves on their own. But hens and other birds seek a quiet place for laying, build themselves resting places and nests, and line them as softly as possible so that their eggs may be kept safe with the greatest ease. When they have hatched their chicks, they guard them, warming them with their wings against injury from cold and placing themselves between them and the sun when it is hot. Once the chicks can use their little wings, the mothers accompany their flights and are released from the rest of their care.”

[2.130]
“Human ingenuity and diligence also contribute to the preservation and well-being of some animals and some of the things the earth produces. For many cattle and plants cannot survive without human care.”

“Great advantages for human life and prosperity are also found in different places. The Nile waters Egypt: after keeping it submerged and flooded throughout the summer, it withdraws, leaving fields softened and coated with silt for sowing. The Euphrates makes Mesopotamia fertile, bringing it what amount to new fields every year. The Indus, the greatest of all rivers, not only enriches and softens the fields with water but even sows them, for it is said to carry down with it a great quantity of seeds resembling grain.”

[2.131]
“I could produce many other memorable examples from other places, many fertile fields bearing different crops. But how generous nature is, producing so many foods, so varied and so delightful, and not at just one season of the year, so that both freshness and abundance may always give us pleasure! And how timely, how beneficial she has made the Etesian winds, not only for human beings but also for cattle and indeed everything that springs from the earth! Their breath tempers excessive heat, and they also guide voyages at sea, swift and sure. Much must be passed over, yet much is being said.”

[2.132]
“For there is no counting the advantages of rivers; the sea’s tides, with their †great advance and retreat; the clothed and wooded mountains; the salt deposits farthest from the seashore; the lands richly stocked with healing medicines; and finally the innumerable arts necessary to sustenance and life. Again, the alternation of day and night preserves living creatures, assigning one time for action and another for rest.”

“Thus from every side, by every line of reasoning, the conclusion follows: divine intelligence and design govern everything in this world in a marvelous way for the well-being and preservation of all.”

[2.133]
“But suppose someone asks for whose sake this vast construction was made. For trees and grasses, which, though without sensation, are nevertheless sustained by nature? That would be absurd. For animals? It is no more plausible that the gods took such pains for the sake of dumb, uncomprehending creatures. For whose sake, then, would one say the world was made? Clearly, for those living beings that use reason: gods and human beings. Nothing, certainly, is better than they, since reason surpasses everything. Thus it becomes credible that the world, and everything in that world, was made for the sake of gods and human beings.”

“And we shall understand more easily that the immortal gods have provided for human beings if we examine the whole construction of the human body, the entire form and perfection of human nature.”

[2.134]
“Since the life of living creatures is sustained by three things—food, drink, and breath—the mouth is perfectly fitted to receive them all, with the adjoining nostrils adding to its supply of breath. The food is chewed by the teeth set in the mouth, and is broken down and softened by them. The sharp front teeth divide the food by biting; the innermost teeth, called molars, grind it up, a process in which the tongue too appears to help.”

[2.135]
“Joining the tongue at its root, the gullet receives what has been taken into the mouth, which first slips down into it. Touching the tonsils on either side, it ends at the farthest, innermost part of the palate. When the tongue’s activity and movements have pushed the food down, thrust it downward as it were, the gullet receives it and drives it on. Its parts below the swallowed food expand, while those above it contract.”

[2.136]
“But the windpipe—the ‘rough artery,’ as physicians call it—has its opening joined to the tongue’s roots a little above the point where the gullet meets the tongue. It extends as far as the lungs, receives the air drawn in by breathing, and exhales and returns it from the lungs. It is covered by a sort of lid, provided to prevent the obstruction of the breath if any food should happen to fall into it. Now the stomach, situated below the gullet, is a receptacle for food and drink, while the lungs and heart draw breath from outside. The stomach has many wonderfully fashioned parts, consisting chiefly of sinewy tissue. It is full of folds and windings, and confines and holds whatever it has received, dry or moist, so that it may be changed and digested. It now contracts, now relaxes, pressing together and mixing everything it has received, so that through its abundant heat, its grinding of the food, and the breath as well, everything may easily be digested, fully processed, and distributed through the rest of the body. The lungs have a certain porousness and a softness like that of sponges, perfectly suited to drawing breath. They contract as they breathe and then expand with †breath, so that this food of life, which above all sustains living creatures, may be drawn in repeatedly.”

[2.137]
“From the intestines, the juice that nourishes us, †separated in the stomach from the rest of the food, passes to the liver through certain channels drawn and directed from the middle intestine to the liver’s gates, as they are called. These reach the liver and attach to it; from there other channels […] extend, through which the food passes as it flows from the liver. Once the bile and the fluids discharged from the kidneys have been separated from this food, the remainder turns into blood and flows together at those same gates of the liver to which all its channels lead. Passing through them, the food pours, at this very point, into the vein called the vena cava; through it, now fully processed and digested, it flows to the heart. From the heart it is distributed throughout the body by a great many veins extending into every part.”

[2.138]
“How the remnants of food are expelled by the intestines’ alternate contraction and relaxation is not at all difficult to describe, but it should nevertheless be passed over, lest our discussion contain anything unpleasant. Let us explain instead nature’s incredible workmanship. The air drawn into the lungs in breathing is warmed first by the act of breathing itself and then by contact with the lungs. Part of it is returned in exhalation, while part is received by a portion of the heart called a ventricle. Joined to this is another like it, into which blood flows from the liver through that vena cava. In this way, from these parts blood is poured through the veins into the whole body, and breath through the arteries. Both sets of vessels, numerous and closely woven throughout the body, bear witness to an incredible power of skillful, divine workmanship.”

[2.139]
“What shall I say of the bones? Forming the body’s supporting structure, they have marvelous joints, fitted both to give stability and to define the limbs, and adapted to movement and every bodily action. Add to these the sinews that hold the joints together, and their interlacing network extending through the whole body: like the veins and arteries, they are drawn out and issue from the heart, and are carried throughout the body.”

[2.140]
“Many things can be added to this account of nature’s diligent and ingenious forethought, showing how great and how outstanding are the gifts the gods have bestowed upon human beings. First, the gods raised them from the ground and set them tall and upright, so that by gazing at heaven they might gain knowledge of the gods. For human beings come from the earth not as mere residents and inhabitants, but as spectators, so to speak, of the things above and of heaven—a spectacle that belongs to no other kind of living creature. The senses, interpreters and messengers of the world, are wonderfully made and placed in the head, as in a citadel, to meet our needs. The eyes, like sentinels, occupy the highest position, from which they may see the most and perform their duty;”

[2.141]
“and the ears, having to perceive sound, which naturally travels upward, are rightly placed in the upper parts of the body. The nostrils, too, are rightly set high, because every odor travels upward; and since they have an important role in judging food and drink, they have been placed near the mouth for good reason. Taste, which had to distinguish the kinds of things we eat, dwells in that part of the mouth where nature has opened a passage for food and drink. Touch is spread evenly throughout the body, so that we can feel every blow and every excessive impact of cold or heat. And just as architects, in buildings, turn away from their owners’ eyes and noses the outlets whose unavoidable discharge would contain something offensive, so nature has banished similar things far from the senses.”

[2.142]
“What craftsman but nature, whose skill nothing can surpass, could have achieved such ingenuity in the senses? First she clothed and enclosed the eyes in exceedingly thin membranes, making these transparent so that we could see through them, yet strong so that the eyes would be held in place. But she made the eyes slippery and mobile, so that they could turn aside from anything harmful and direct their gaze easily wherever they wished. The actual point of vision, with which we see, called the pupil, is so small that it easily avoids things that could harm it. The eyelids, the eyes’ coverings, are exceedingly soft to the touch, so as not to injure the organ of vision, and perfectly fashioned both to close over the pupils and keep anything from falling in, and to open them. Nature provided that this could be done over and over with the greatest speed.”

[2.143]
“The eyelids are fortified, too, with a sort of palisade of hairs, to repel anything falling in when the eyes are open; and when they close in sleep, when we do not need our eyes for seeing, the eyes rest wrapped up, as it were. Moreover, the eyes are advantageously recessed and sheltered on every side by raised parts. Above, the eyebrows covering them ward off sweat flowing down from the head and forehead; below, the cheeks protect them, set beneath and slightly projecting; and the nose is so placed that it seems like a wall between the eyes.”

[2.144]
“But the organ of hearing is always open, for we need its perception even when asleep; and when it receives a sound, we are awakened from sleep itself. Its passage is winding, to keep anything from entering that might enter if it lay open in a straight, direct line. Provision has also been made that, if the tiniest creature tries to force its way in, it should stick in the earwax as though in birdlime. Outside project the parts called ears, made both to cover and protect the organ of hearing and to keep the sounds that reach them from slipping away and wandering off before they strike that organ. Their entrances, however, are hard and almost hornlike, with many windings, since surfaces of this kind reflect and amplify sound. For this reason, too, stringed instruments resonate through a tortoiseshell or horn, and sounds are returned louder from winding, enclosed spaces.”

[2.145]
“Similarly, the nostrils, which are always open to perform their necessary functions, have rather narrow entrances to keep anything harmful from penetrating them. They always contain moisture, useful for warding off dust and many other things. Taste is splendidly protected: it is enclosed in the mouth in a position suited both to its use and to keeping it safe.”

“And all human senses far surpass those of animals. First, the eyes discern many things more finely in the arts that fall under their judgment—in painted, modeled, and carved forms, and also in bodily movement and gesture. They judge the †beauty, order, and, so to speak, appropriateness of colors and shapes, and even greater things as well. For they recognize virtues and vices: they recognize the angry and the kindly, the joyful and the grieving, the brave and the cowardly, the bold and the timid.”

[2.146]
“The ears likewise possess a marvelous, finely skilled judgment, by which they distinguish the variety, intervals, and separation of sounds in the music of the voice, pipes, and strings, and the many kinds of voice: ringing and dark, smooth and rough, low and high, flexible and rigid. Only human ears judge these things. The nose, taste, and †to some extent touch likewise have great powers of discrimination. More arts have even been invented than I could wish for receiving and fully enjoying the pleasures of these senses. For it is plain how far the blending of perfumes, the seasoning of foods, and the embellishment of bodies have gone.”

[2.147]
“Indeed, anyone who fails to see that the human soul and mind themselves, reason, judgment, and practical wisdom, have been perfected by divine care seems to me to lack these very things. In discussing them, Cotta, I wish I might be given your eloquence. How you would describe the greatness, first, of our understanding, and then of our ability to connect and comprehend consequences in relation to their premises! Through this, evidently, we judge what follows from what and reach conclusions by reasoning; we define individual things and encompass them within precise limits. From this we understand the power and nature of knowledge, than which nothing even in a god is more excellent. And how great are those capacities which you Academics undermine and abolish: that through both senses and mind we perceive and grasp the things outside us;”

[2.148]
“and by bringing these perceptions together and comparing them, we also create arts, some required for the uses of life, others for enjoyment. Then how splendid, how divine, is the power of speech, ‘mistress of the world,’ as you like to call it! First, it enables us to learn what we do not know and to teach others what we do. Then by it we exhort, by it we persuade; by it we comfort the afflicted, by it we lead the terrified away from fear; by it we restrain the overexcited, by it we quench desire and anger. It has bound us together in a community of justice, laws, and cities; it has drawn us away from a savage, bestial life.”

[2.149]
“Unless you pay close attention, it is incredible how much workmanship nature has devised for the use of speech. First, the windpipe extends from the lungs to the innermost part of the mouth; through it the voice, originating in the mind, is received and poured out. Then in the mouth lies the tongue, bounded by the teeth. It shapes and limits the voice’s unrestrained outpouring and makes its sounds distinct and clear-cut by striking both the teeth and other parts of the mouth. Thus our people commonly compare the tongue to a plectrum, the teeth to strings, and the nostrils to the horns that resonate with the strings in music.”

[2.150]
“And what useful hands nature has given human beings, servants of how many arts! For the fingers contract and extend easily, and thanks to their flexible joints and articulations they find no movement difficult. Thus by applying its fingers the hand is suited to painting, modeling, carving, and drawing sounds from strings and pipes. These arts serve pleasure; others serve necessity: I mean cultivating fields, building houses, making coverings for the body, woven or sewn, and every kind of work in bronze and iron. From this we understand that, by applying craftsmen’s hands to the mind’s discoveries and the senses’ perceptions, we have obtained everything that enables us to be sheltered, clothed, and safe, and to possess cities, walls, homes, and shrines.”

[2.151]
“Again, human labor—that is, human hands—provides both variety and abundance of food. Fields yield many things procured by the hand, either for immediate consumption or to be put away in storage for the years ahead. Besides, we eat animals of land, water, and air, some by catching them, others by rearing them. By taming four-footed beasts we also provide transportation; their speed and strength give us strength and speed ourselves. We place burdens on some beasts; we put them under yokes. We make full use, for our own advantage, of elephants’ exceedingly keen senses and dogs’ tracking abilities. We extract iron from the earth’s caverns, a substance necessary for cultivating fields; we discover deeply hidden veins of copper, silver, and gold, suited both to practical use and to beautiful adornment. By felling trees we use timber of every kind, cultivated and wild, partly to warm our bodies with fire and soften our food, partly to build, so that, enclosed in houses, we may ward off cold and heat;”

[2.152]
“it is also immensely useful for making ships, whose voyages supply all the necessities of life from every quarter. Thanks to our knowledge of seamanship, we alone control those most violent forces nature has produced, the sea and the winds, and we enjoy and use a great many products of the sea. Likewise, the advantages of the land are entirely under human dominion. We enjoy the plains, we enjoy the mountains; the rivers are ours, the lakes are ours. We sow crops, we plant trees; by bringing in water we give the land fertility; we confine rivers, straighten them, divert them. In short, with our own hands we attempt to make, within the natural world, a second nature, as it were.”

[2.153]
“And has not human reason penetrated even into heaven? Alone among living creatures, we have learned the risings, settings, and courses of the stars; the human race has defined the day, the month, the year. Eclipses of sun and moon have been understood and predicted for all future time: which will occur, how great they will be, and when they will happen. By contemplating these things, the mind approaches knowledge of the gods. From this arises reverence, with which justice and the other virtues are joined; from these comes a happy life, equal and similar to the gods’, inferior to the heavenly beings in nothing but immortality, which has no bearing on living well.”

“Having set out these matters, I seem to have shown sufficiently how greatly human nature surpasses all living creatures. From this we must understand that neither the shape and arrangement of our limbs nor such powers of intelligence and mind could have been produced by chance.”

[2.154]
“It remains for me to show—and at last bring my speech to its close—that everything in this world which human beings use has been made and provided for their sake.”

“First, the world itself was made for gods and human beings, and the things within it were provided and devised for human benefit. For the world is, as it were, the shared home of gods and human beings, or the city of both; they alone, using reason, live by justice and law. Just as we must think Athens and Sparta were founded for the Athenians and Spartans, and rightly say that everything in those cities belongs to those peoples, so we must think that everything in the whole world belongs to gods and human beings.”

[2.155]
“Again, the revolutions of sun, moon, and the other stars, though they also contribute to the world’s coherence, nevertheless offer human beings a spectacle. No sight is more inexhaustible, none more beautiful or more remarkable for its rational order and ingenuity. For by measuring their courses we have learned the seasons’ ripening, variety, and changes. If human beings alone know these things, we must judge that they were made for human beings’ sake.”

[2.156]
“And the earth, rich in crops and the many kinds of legumes it pours forth with the greatest generosity: does it seem to produce these for wild beasts or for human beings? What need I say of vines and olive groves, whose exceedingly abundant and flourishing fruits have nothing at all to do with animals? For no beasts have any knowledge of sowing, cultivating, harvesting and gathering fruit at the right time, or storing it and putting it away; the use and care of all these things belong to human beings.”

[2.157]
“Just as we must say that lyres and pipes were made for those who could use them, so we must acknowledge that the things I have mentioned were provided only for those who use them. If some animals steal or snatch something from them, we shall not say they came into being for those animals too. For human beings do not store grain for mice or ants, but for their spouses, children, and households. Thus the animals, as I said, enjoy it by stealth; its owners do so openly and freely;”

[2.158]
“we must therefore admit that these abundant resources have been provided for human beings. Unless, perhaps, the great abundance and variety of fruits, and the pleasure they give not only to taste but also to smell and sight, cast doubt on whether nature has bestowed them on human beings alone! So far are these things from having been provided for animals as well that we see the animals themselves were brought into being for human benefit. What do sheep provide except clothing for human beings, when their wool has been worked and woven? Without human cultivation and care they could not have been fed or sustained, or yielded any benefit. And dogs—their faithful watchfulness, their loving fawning on their masters, their hatred of strangers, their incredibly keen noses for tracking, their eagerness in the hunt—what else do these signify but that they were brought into being for human advantage?”

[2.159]
“What shall I say of oxen? Their very backs proclaim that they were not shaped to carry burdens, while their necks were born for the yoke, and their broad, strong shoulders for †drawing plows. When the race of gold, as the poets call it, used them to till the earth by breaking up its clods, they never suffered any violence:
Then suddenly arose a race of iron,

the first that dared to forge the deadly sword

and taste the young ox tamed and yoked by human hands.
So great was the benefit thought to come from oxen that eating their flesh was held a crime. It would take too long to pursue the uses of mules and donkeys, which were certainly provided to serve human beings.”

[2.160]
“What does a pig have to offer except food? Chrysippus indeed says its very soul was given to it as salt, to keep it from rotting; and because this animal was suited for human consumption, nature produced nothing more prolific. Why speak of the abundance and deliciousness of fish, or of birds? They give us so much pleasure that our Providence sometimes seems to have been an Epicurean. Nor could birds even be caught without human reason and ingenuity; though we believe that some birds, both those that give signs by flight and those that give signs by voice, as our augurs call them, were born for the purpose of foretelling events.”

[2.161]
“Again, we capture huge, wild beasts by hunting, both to eat them and to train ourselves in hunting as an imitation of military discipline, to use them when tamed and thoroughly trained, as we use elephants, and to select from their bodies many remedies for diseases and wounds. We do the same with certain plants and herbs, whose uses we have learned through long practice and experiment. You may survey the whole earth and all the seas with your mind as though with your eyes: you will see the immense, fruitful stretches of plain, the mountains’ dense covering, the pastures of cattle, and then voyages across the sea at incredible speed.”

[2.162]
“And not only above the earth: even in its innermost darkness lie hidden the useful properties of countless things, produced for human use and discovered by human beings alone.”

“But the point which each of you may seize upon for criticism—you, Cotta, because Carneades liked to assail the Stoics, and you, Velleius, because Epicurus ridicules nothing so much as the prediction of future events—seems to me to offer perhaps the strongest confirmation that the gods’ foresight cares for human affairs. For divination certainly exists, appearing in many places, circumstances, and times, both in private life and especially in public affairs:”

[2.163]
“the diviners who inspect sacrifices discern much; augurs foresee much; much is revealed through oracles, much through inspired prophecies, much through dreams, much through portents. By understanding these, people have often obtained many results that accorded with their wishes and interests, and have averted many dangers as well. Therefore this capacity—whether a power, an art, or a natural endowment—for knowing future events has certainly been given by the immortal gods to human beings and to no other creature.”

“If these individual arguments happen not to move you, still, taken as a whole, connected and joined together, they certainly ought to have done so.”

[2.164]
“And the immortal gods regularly care and provide not only for the whole human race but also for individuals. We may narrow down the whole of humankind, reduce it step by step to smaller groups, and finally reach individuals. For if, on the grounds we have already given, we think the gods care for all human beings wherever they are, in whatever region or part of lands separated from the continuous stretch of this land we inhabit, they also care for the people who inhabit these lands with us from east to west.”

[2.165]
“But if they care for those who inhabit that great island, as it were, which we call the inhabited world, they also care for those who occupy parts of that island—Europe, Asia, Africa. Therefore they also cherish parts of those regions, such as Rome, Athens, Sparta, and Rhodes; and, apart from the whole body of citizens, they cherish individuals in those cities: Curius, Fabricius, and Coruncanius in the war with Pyrrhus; Calatinus, Duilius, Metellus, and Lutatius in the First Punic War; Maximus, Marcellus, and Africanus in the Second; after them Paulus, Gracchus, and Cato, and, within our fathers’ memory, Scipio and Laelius. Our own state and Greece have produced many other exceptional men besides, none of whom, we must believe, could have become what he was without a god’s help.”

[2.166]
“This reasoning led the poets, especially Homer, to assign particular gods to the foremost heroes—Ulysses, Diomedes, Agamemnon, Achilles—as companions amid crises and dangers. Moreover, the gods’ own frequent appearances, such as those I recalled earlier, show that they care for communities and individual people alike. This is also understood from signs of future events, which are presented to us sometimes asleep, sometimes awake. We receive many warnings, too, through marvels, many through the entrails of sacrifices, and through many other things which long experience has so carefully observed that it has produced the art of divination.”

[2.167]
“No man, then, has ever been great without some divine inspiration. Nor should we try to refute this by judging that, if a storm has damaged someone’s crops or vineyards, or if chance has taken away some of life’s advantages, the person who suffers one of these things is either hated or neglected by a god. The gods care for great things and disregard small ones. For great men, however, all things always turn out well—if, indeed, our school and Socrates, the foremost philosopher, have spoken adequately about the richness and abundance of virtue.”

[2.168]
“These, more or less, were the things that occurred to me which I thought should be said about the nature of the gods. But you, Cotta, if you listen to me, should plead the same case, remembering that you are both a leading citizen and a pontiff. Since your school permits you to argue on either side, choose this side instead, and direct toward it that power of discussion which you gained from rhetorical exercises and which the Academy has enlarged. For arguing against the gods is a wicked and impious practice, whether it is done sincerely or in pretense.”

### Book 3

[3.1]
When Balbus had finished, Cotta smiled. “You are late in telling me what to defend, Balbus. While you were speaking, I was thinking over what I should say in reply—not so much to refute you as to inquire into what I did not fully understand. But since everyone must use his own judgment, it is hard for me to think just what you would like.”

[3.2]
Here Velleius said, “You have no idea, Cotta, how eagerly I am waiting to hear you. Our friend Balbus enjoyed your argument against Epicurus; now, in return, I will give you an attentive hearing against the Stoics. I hope you have come well prepared, as you usually do.”

[3.3]
“By Hercules, I have, Velleius,” Cotta replied. “My position with Lucilius is not the same as it was with you.”

“How is that?” he asked.

“Because your Epicurus seems to me to put up no great fight about the immortal gods. He merely dares not deny their existence, for fear of incurring hatred or prosecution. But when he insists that the gods do nothing, care for nothing, and possess human limbs without having any use for those limbs, he seems to be playing with us, and to think it enough to say that there is a certain blessed and eternal nature.”

[3.4]
“But you noticed, I imagine, how much Balbus said, and how closely his points fitted and held together, even if they were not altogether true. As I said, then, I intend not so much to refute his speech as to inquire into what I did not fully understand. So I leave it to you, Balbus: would you rather answer my questions one by one about what I have not quite grasped, or hear my entire speech?”

“For my part,” said Balbus, “if you want anything explained, I would rather answer. But if you are questioning me less to understand than to refute me, I will do whichever you wish: either answer each question as you ask it, or answer everything when you have finished.”

[3.5]
“Excellent,” said Cotta. “Then let us follow where the discussion itself leads us. But before the subject, a few words about myself. I am deeply moved, Balbus, by your authority, and by that appeal at the end of your speech, urging me to remember that I am both Cotta and a pontiff. Its point, I suppose, was that I should defend the beliefs about the immortal gods inherited from our ancestors, and their sacrifices, ceremonies, and religious observances. I certainly will always defend them, as I always have. No argument from anyone, learned or unlearned, will ever dislodge me from the conviction I inherited from our ancestors about the worship of the immortal gods. But in matters of religion I follow the chief pontiffs Tiberius Coruncanius, Publius Scipio, and Publius Scaevola—not Zeno or Cleanthes or Chrysippus. And I have Gaius Laelius, both augur and sage, whom I would rather hear speaking on religion in that celebrated speech than any leader of the Stoics. The entire religion of the Roman people falls into sacrifices and auspices, with a third category added whenever interpreters of the Sibyl or diviners examining entrails give warnings drawn from portents and prodigies to foretell the future. I have never thought that any of these religious practices should be slighted. I am convinced that Romulus, by establishing the auspices, and Numa, by establishing sacrifices, laid the foundations of our state, which surely could never have grown so great without winning the fullest favor of the immortal gods.”

[3.6]
“You have heard, Balbus, what Cotta thinks, what a pontiff thinks. Now let me understand what you think. From you, as a philosopher, I ought to receive a reasoned account of religion; our ancestors I ought to trust even when they give no reason.”

“What account, then,” said Balbus, “do you require of me, Cotta?”

“Your division,” he replied, “had four parts: first you intended to show that gods exist; next, what they are like; then, that they govern the world; and finally, that they care for human affairs. That was your division, if I remember rightly.”

“Quite rightly,” said Balbus. “But I am waiting for your questions.”

[3.7]
“Let us examine each point in order,” said Cotta. “If the first is what everyone but the utterly impious agrees on—that gods exist—this conviction, at least, cannot be burned out of my heart. Yet you give me no instruction at all about why this belief, which I hold on the authority of our ancestors, should be true.”

“If you are convinced,” said Balbus, “why do you want to learn it from me?”

“Because,” Cotta replied, “I approach this discussion as if I had never heard or thought anything about the immortal gods. Take me as a novice, an untouched pupil, and teach me what I ask to know.”

[3.8]
“Tell me, then,” he said, “what you want to know.”

“What do I want? First, why, after saying that [the obvious point in] this part needed no argument at all, since it was obvious and universally agreed that gods exist, you spoke at such length on that very point.”

“Because I have noticed, Cotta,” he said, “that you too, when speaking in court, often overwhelm a judge with as many arguments as you can, provided the case allows it. Philosophers do the same, and I have done it as best I could. Your question is rather like asking why I look at you with both eyes instead of closing one, when I could achieve the same result with one.”

[3.9]
“You must judge how close that comparison is,” said Cotta. “In a lawsuit, if something is evident and everyone agrees on it, I do not usually argue the point: argument weakens what is self-evident. And even if I did so in lawsuits, I would not do the same in a discussion as exacting as this. There would be no reason to close one eye, since both have the same view, and since nature, which you claim is wise, has chosen to give us two openings for light, pierced through from the mind to the eyes. But because you did not trust the point to be as obvious as you would like, you tried to prove the gods’ existence by many arguments. For me, one was enough: that our ancestors handed down this belief to us. But you disdain authorities and fight with reason.”

[3.10]
“Allow my reason, then, to contend with yours.

“You bring forward all these arguments for the existence of gods, and by arguing make doubtful what in my opinion is not doubtful at all. I committed to memory not only the number but the order of your arguments. The first was that, on looking up at the sky, we immediately understand that some divine power governs these things. From this came the quotation, ‘Look at this blazing height above, which all invoke as Jupiter.’”

[3.11]
“As if any of us called that Jupiter rather than the god on the Capitol! Or as if it were obvious and universally agreed that those beings are gods, when Velleius and many others will not even grant you that they are alive. You also thought it a weighty argument that belief in the immortal gods was universal and growing daily. Are matters of such importance, then, to be decided by the opinions of fools—especially in your school, which calls them mad? ‘But we see the gods in person: Postumius at Lake Regillus, Vatinius on the Salarian Way’—and something, too, about the Locrians’ battle by the Sagra. These beings you called the sons of Tyndareus—that is, men born of a man—and Homer, who lived not long after their time, says they were buried at Sparta. Do you think they came to meet Vatinius on white geldings, without a single groom, and announced the Roman people’s victory to Vatinius, a country fellow, rather than to Marcus Cato, then our leading citizen? Do you also believe that the mark still visible on a flint at Lake Regillus, resembling a hoofprint, was made by Castor’s horse?”

[3.12]
“Would you not rather believe what can be supported by argument—that the souls of distinguished men, such as those sons of Tyndareus, are divine and eternal—than that men who had once been cremated could ride horses and fight in battle? Or if you say this could happen, you must explain how, not produce old women’s tales.”

[3.13]
“Do you think these are tales?” Lucilius asked. “Do you not see the temple dedicated by Aulus Postumius to Castor and Pollux in the Forum? Do you not see the Senate’s decree concerning Vatinius? As for the Sagra, the Greeks even have a familiar proverb: they say what they affirm is more certain than what happened at the Sagra. Should not these authorities carry weight with you?”

“You fight me with hearsay, Balbus,” Cotta replied, “but I ask you for reasons. […]
[…]
[…]
[…] follow what is going to happen.”

[3.14]
“For no one can escape what is going to happen. Often it is not even useful to know the future. It is wretched to torment yourself without accomplishing anything, without even that last, universal comfort, hope—especially since you yourselves say that everything happens by fate, and that fate is what has always been true from all eternity. What benefit is there, then, what aid to taking precautions, in knowing that something will happen, when it will certainly happen anyway? Besides, where does this divination come from? Who discovered the significance of a cleft in a liver? Who took note of the crow’s call, or of lots? I believe in these things, and I cannot treat with contempt the augural staff of Attus Navius, whom you mentioned. But I must learn from philosophers how these things came to be understood, especially since those diviners of yours are wrong about so very much.”

[3.15]
“‘But doctors too,’ you said, ‘are often mistaken.’ What resemblance is there between medicine, whose principles I can see, and divination, whose origin I do not understand? You also think the gods were appeased by the self-sacrifice of the Decii. How monstrous was their injustice, if they could not be reconciled to the Roman people unless men like those died! That was a commander’s maneuver, what the Greeks call a stratagem—but the maneuver of commanders who cared for their country and did not spare their lives. They thought that the army would follow its commander as he spurred his horse and hurled himself against the enemy; and so it did. As for the voice of Faunus, I have certainly never heard it. If you say you have, I will believe you, though I have no idea what Faunus actually is. So far, then, Balbus, as far as your contribution goes, I do not understand that gods exist. I do believe they exist, but the Stoics teach me nothing.”

[3.16]
“For Cleanthes, as you said, thinks that conceptions of gods have taken shape in human minds in four ways. One, about which I have said enough, arose from foreknowledge of the future; a second from violent storms and other upheavals; a third from the usefulness and abundance of the things we enjoy; and a fourth from the ordered movements of the stars and the regularity of the heavens. We have discussed foreknowledge. As for disturbances in sky, sea, and earth, we cannot deny that, when they occur, many people fear them and think they are the work of the immortal gods.”

[3.17]
“But the question is not whether there are people who believe in gods; it is whether gods exist or not. The other reasons Cleanthes gives—the abundance of the benefits we receive, and the ordered succession of the seasons and regularity of the heavens—we shall consider when we discuss the providence of the gods, on which you spoke at such length, Balbus.”

[3.18]
“To that same point we shall also postpone what you attributed to Chrysippus: that, since nature contains something human beings could not produce, there must be something better than humanity. We shall postpone your comparisons between the beauties of a house and the beauty of the world, and your appeal to the harmony and accord of the universe as a whole. Zeno’s brief and, as you thought, pointed syllogisms will also wait for the part of the discussion I have just named. Then, in their proper place, we shall examine all your physical arguments about the power of fire and the heat from which, you said, everything is generated. Everything you said the day before yesterday, when trying to prove the existence of gods, about why the universe as a whole, the sun, the moon, and the stars possess sensation and intelligence, I shall reserve for that same occasion.”

[3.19]
“But I shall keep asking you the same question: by what reasoning do you convince yourself that gods exist?”

“I believe I have supplied the reasoning,” said Balbus. “But you refute it in such a way that, just when you seem about to question me and I have prepared to answer, you suddenly turn the discussion aside and give me no opportunity to reply. So matters of the greatest importance have passed without discussion—divination and fate, subjects on which you speak briefly but our school usually has much to say. Yet they are separate from the question now before us. So, if you please, do not jumble the issues; let us settle what this discussion is asking.”

[3.20]
“Very well,” said Cotta. “Since you divided the whole inquiry into four parts, and we have discussed the first, let us consider the second. It seemed to me to amount to this: while trying to show what the gods are like, you showed that there are none. You said it was extremely difficult to draw the mind away from what the eyes are accustomed to seeing. But since nothing was more excellent than god, you had no doubt that the world was a god, because nothing in nature was better than the world—if only we could conceive of it as alive, or rather see this with the mind as we see other things with our eyes.”

[3.21]
“But when you deny that anything is better than the world, what do you mean by ‘better’? If more beautiful, I agree; if better suited to our needs, I agree with that too. But if you mean that nothing is wiser than the world, I utterly disagree—not because it is hard to draw my mind away from my eyes, but because the more I withdraw it, the less I can grasp in thought what you intend. ‘Nothing in nature is better than the world.’ Nor is anything on earth better than our city. Do you therefore think the city possesses reason, thought, and intelligence? Or, because it does not, do you think an ant should be ranked above this most beautiful city, because the city has no sensation, while the ant has not only sensation but intelligence, reason, and memory? You must see what is conceded to you, Balbus, not simply assume whatever you wish.”

[3.22]
“For that whole line of argument was an expansion of Zeno’s old syllogism, brief and, as you thought, pointed […]. Zeno argues as follows: ‘What employs reason is better than what does not employ reason; but nothing is better than the world; therefore the world employs reason.’”

[3.23]
“If you accept this, you will soon make the world appear an excellent reader of books. Following Zeno’s footsteps, you can construct this syllogism: ‘What is literate is better than what is not literate; but nothing is better than the world; therefore the world is literate.’ In the same way it will also be eloquent, a mathematician and musician, learned in every discipline—in short, a philosopher. You often said that nothing happens without god, and that nature has no power to fashion what is unlike itself. Am I to grant, then, that the world is not only alive and wise, but a lyre player and a trumpeter too, since men skilled in these arts also spring from it? This father of the Stoics offers no reason, then, why we should think the world employs reason, or even why we should think it alive. The world, therefore, is not a god; and yet nothing is better than it. For nothing is more beautiful, nothing more beneficial to us, nothing more splendid to look at or more regular in motion.

“But if the universe as a whole is not a god, neither are the stars, whose countless numbers you placed among the gods. Their even and everlasting courses delighted you—and rightly, by Hercules, for their regularity is marvelous and unbelievable.”

[3.24]
“But not everything, Balbus, that follows a fixed and regular course must be attributed to a god rather than to nature. What could be more regular, do you think, than the recurring ebb and flow of the Euripus at Chalcis, or of the Sicilian strait, or the surging Ocean in those places ‘where the ravenous wave divides Europe from Libya’? What of the tides on the coasts of Spain or Britain? Can their advance and retreat at fixed times not occur without a god? Consider, please: if we call divine every motion and everything that keeps its order at fixed times, must we not also call tertian and quartan fevers divine? What could be more regular than their recurrence and course? But a reason must be given for all such things.”

[3.25]
“When you cannot give one, you take refuge in god as if at an altar.

“You also thought Chrysippus spoke shrewdly—a man undoubtedly quick-witted and seasoned. I call people quick-witted whose minds turn quickly, and seasoned those whose minds have been toughened by experience as hands are by work. He says, then: ‘If there is something a human being cannot produce, whoever produces it is better than a human being. But a human being cannot produce the things found in the world. Whoever could produce them is therefore superior to humanity. But who could be superior to humanity except a god? Therefore a god exists.’ All these arguments turn on the same error as Zeno’s.”

[3.26]
“For no distinction is made between what is better and what is more excellent, or between nature and reason. Chrysippus also denies that, if there are no gods, anything in all nature is better than humanity. Yet he considers it the height of arrogance for anyone to think that nothing is better than a human being. Granted, it may be arrogant to value oneself above the world. But it is not arrogant—rather, it is sensible—to understand that one has sensation and reason, and that Orion and the Dog Star do not. He also says, ‘If a house is beautiful, we understand that it was built for its owners, not for mice; likewise we ought to think of the world as the gods’ house.’ I certainly would think so, if I believed it had been built, rather than—as I shall show—formed by nature.”

[3.27]
“But Socrates in Xenophon asks where we could have obtained our minds if there were no mind in the world. And I ask where we obtained speech, rhythm, and song—unless we really think the sun talks with the moon when it draws nearer, or that the world sings in harmony, as Pythagoras believes. These are nature’s works, Balbus: not nature ‘proceeding artistically,’ as Zeno says—we shall soon see what that means—but nature setting everything in motion and action through its own movements and changes.”

[3.28]
“So I liked that account of nature’s harmony and accord, in which you said that its parts, joined as if by kinship, act together. What I did not accept was your denial that this could happen unless they were held together by a single divine breath. Nature holds together and endures by its own powers, not those of gods. It has that kind of mutual accord which the Greeks call ‘sympathy.’ But the greater this is through nature’s own spontaneous action, the less reason there is to think it the work of divine intelligence.”

[3.29]
“How, though, do you answer the arguments Carneades used to advance? If no body is immortal, no body is everlasting; but no body is immortal, nor is any body indivisible or incapable of being broken or pulled apart. Since every living being has a nature susceptible to outside influences, none can escape the necessity of receiving something from without—of undergoing, as it were, and suffering something. If every living being is like this, none is immortal. Likewise, if every living being can be cut and divided, none is indivisible, none eternal. But every living being is liable to receive and undergo an external force. Every living being must therefore be mortal, capable of dissolution and division.”

[3.30]
“For if all wax were changeable, nothing made of wax could be unchangeable; likewise nothing made of silver or bronze, if the nature of silver and bronze were changeable. In the same way, then, if all things that are […] from which everything is composed are changeable, no body can be unchangeable. But the elements of which everything is composed are changeable, in your view; therefore every body is changeable. Yet if any body were immortal, not every body would be changeable. The result is that every body is mortal. For every body is either water or air or fire or earth, or something compounded of these, or of some portion of them.”

[3.31]
“None of these is exempt from destruction. Everything earthy can be divided; liquid is so soft that it can easily be compressed and crushed; fire and air are very easily driven aside by any blow, and by nature yield readily and disperse. Besides, all these things perish when they turn into another element: this happens when earth changes to water, when air arises from water, and ether from air, and when these same elements return in the opposite direction. But if the elements that compose every living being perish, no living being is everlasting.”

[3.32]
“And even if we leave this aside, no living being can be found that was never born and will always exist. For every living being has sensations: it therefore feels heat and cold, sweetness and bitterness; no sense can receive pleasant impressions without also receiving their opposites. If, then, it feels pleasure, it feels pain as well; and what is subject to pain must also be subject to destruction. We must therefore admit that every living being is mortal. Further, if something feels neither pleasure nor pain, it cannot be a living being.”

[3.33]
“But if whatever is a living being must feel them, and whatever feels them cannot be eternal, and every living being has sensations, then no living being is eternal. Further, there can be no living being without natural desire and aversion. What accords with nature is desired, and its opposites are avoided. Every living being desires some things and flees others; what it flees is contrary to its nature, and what is contrary to nature has the power to destroy. Every living being must therefore perish.”

[3.34]
“There are countless grounds on which we can establish and demonstrate that nothing endowed with sensation can escape destruction. For the very things we feel—cold, heat, pleasure, pain, and the rest—destroy us when intensified. No living being lacks sensation; therefore no living being is eternal. Moreover, a living being’s nature is either simple—earthy, fiery, airy, or watery, a condition we cannot even conceive—or compounded of several elements, each with its own place toward which nature’s force carries it: one to the lowest region, another to the highest, another to the middle. These can hold together for a certain time, but by no means forever: each must be swept by nature to its own place. No living being, then, is everlasting.”

[3.35]
“But your people, Balbus, usually trace everything back to the power of fire, following, I believe, Heraclitus. Not everyone interprets even him in the same way; †since he did not wish what he said to be understood†, let us leave him aside. You, however, say that every active force is fire, and that living beings therefore die when their heat fails, while throughout nature what has warmth lives and flourishes. I do not understand why bodies die when their heat is extinguished, but not when their moisture or breath is lost—especially since they also die from too much heat.”

[3.36]
“So heat is no exception in this respect. Still, let us see where the argument leads. Your view, I think, is that, outside living bodies, nothing in nature and the world is alive except fire. Why fire rather than breath, of which living beings’ souls too consist, and from which they are called ‘animate’? How can you assume as conceded that the soul is nothing but fire? It seems more plausible that the soul is something like a blend of fire and breath. ‘But if fire is itself alive, with no admixture of another element, then, since its presence in our bodies enables us to feel, it cannot itself lack sensation.’ Again, the same reply applies: whatever has sensation must feel both pleasure and pain, and whatever pain can reach, destruction can reach as well. The result is that you cannot even make fire eternal.”

[3.37]
“What, then? Do you not also hold that every fire needs food and cannot possibly endure unless it is fed; that sun, moon, and the other stars are nourished by water, some fresh, some seawater? Cleanthes gives this as the reason the sun turns back and does not advance beyond the summer circle or the winter one: it must not stray too far from its food. We shall consider the merits of this account shortly. For now, let us draw the conclusion: what can perish is not eternal by nature; fire will perish unless it is fed; therefore fire is not everlasting by nature.”

[3.38]
“What sort of god, moreover, can we conceive who possesses no virtue? Shall we attribute practical wisdom to a god, the knowledge of things good, bad, and neither good nor bad? If nothing bad affects him or can affect him, what need has he to distinguish good from bad? What need has he of reasoning or understanding, which we use to reach the obscure through the evident, when nothing can be obscure to a god? As for justice, which allots each his due, what has that to do with gods? Human fellowship and community, as you say yourselves, brought justice into being. Temperance consists in forgoing bodily pleasures: if there is room for it in heaven, there is room for pleasures too. And how can a god be conceived as courageous? In pain, in toil, or in danger?”

[3.39]
“None of these touches a god. How, then, can we conceive of a god who neither employs reason nor possesses any virtue?

“Nor, when I consider what the Stoics say, can I look down on the ignorance of ordinary, uneducated people. Here are the practices of the uneducated: the Syrians worship a fish; the Egyptians have consecrated almost every kind of animal. In Greece they have many gods who were once human: Alabandus at Alabanda, Tenes at Tenedos, and throughout Greece Leucothea, who was Ino, and her son Palaemon—Hercules, Aesculapius, the sons of Tyndareus, our own Romulus, and many others, whom they think admitted to heaven like new citizens added to the register.”

[3.40]
“So much for the unlearned. What of you philosophers, who know better? I pass over your lofty doctrines: let the world itself be a god. This, I suppose, is that ‘blazing height above, which all invoke as Jupiter.’ Why, then, do we add more gods? And what a multitude! To me, at least, they seem very numerous. You count the individual stars as gods, and call them either by animals’ names—the Goat, the Scorpion, the Bull, the Lion—or by those of inanimate things—the Argo, the Altar, the Crown.”

[3.41]
“But even if we concede these points, how can the rest not merely be conceded but even understood? When we call grain Ceres and wine Liber, we are using a familiar figure of speech. But do you think anyone so mad as to believe that what he eats is a god? As for those you say have passed from humanity into the company of gods, give an account of how this could happen, or why it has ceased to happen, and I will gladly learn. As things stand, I cannot see how the man to whom, as Accius says, ‘torches were brought on Mount Oeta,’ could pass from that burning ‘into his father’s eternal home.’ Yet Homer has Ulysses meet him in the underworld, like the others who had departed this life.”

[3.42]
“Indeed, I should very much like to know which Hercules in particular we worship. Those who explore the inner recesses of obscure literature hand down several. The oldest was born of Jupiter—but the oldest Jupiter, too, since we also find several Jupiters in the ancient writings of the Greeks. From him and Lysithoe, then, came the Hercules whom we are told contended with Apollo over the tripod. A second, an Egyptian, is said to have been born of the Nile and to have composed the Phrygian writings. A third belongs to the Idaean Fingers, to whom they bring offerings for the dead †to whom. A fourth, son of Jupiter and Asteria, Latona’s sister, is worshiped especially at Tyre; they say Carthage was his daughter. A fifth is in India, called Belus. The sixth is this familiar son of Alcmena, fathered by Jupiter—but the third Jupiter, since, as I shall soon show, several Jupiters too have come down to us.”

[3.43]
“Since the discussion has brought me to this point, I will show that I have learned better lessons on worshiping the immortal gods from pontifical law and ancestral custom, from those little sacrificial cups Numa left us, of which Laelius speaks in that precious little speech, than from the reasoning of the Stoics. For if I follow you, tell me what to answer someone who asks me this: ‘If there are gods […], are the Nymphs also goddesses? If the Nymphs are, so are the little Pans and Satyrs. But these are not gods; therefore the Nymphs are not [goddesses] either. Yet temples have been publicly vowed and dedicated to them. Therefore the other gods to whom temples have been dedicated are not gods either. Go further: you count Jupiter and Neptune as gods; therefore their brother Orcus is also a god, and the rivers said to flow in the underworld—Acheron, Cocytus, Pyriphlegethon—and then Charon and Cerberus must be considered gods.’”

[3.44]
“‘But that must be rejected; therefore Orcus is not a god either. What do you say, then, about his brothers?’ Carneades used to say these things not to abolish the gods—what could less befit a philosopher?—but to prove that the Stoics explain nothing about them. He therefore pressed on: ‘Well, if these brothers are counted among the gods, can their father Saturn be denied a place, when he is so widely worshiped, especially in the West? If he is a god, we must admit that his father Heaven is also a god. If so, Heaven’s parents, Aether and Day, must also be held gods, along with their brothers and sisters, whom the ancient genealogists name as follows: Love, Deceit, †Measure, Toil, Envy, Fate, Old Age, Death, Darkness, Misery, Lamentation, Favor, Fraud, Obstinacy, the Fates, the Hesperides, Dreams. All these, they say, were born of Erebus and Night. Either we must accept these monstrosities, then, or reject those first gods too.’”

[3.45]
“What? Will you say that Apollo, Vulcan, Mercury, and the others are gods, but hesitate over Hercules, Aesculapius, Liber, Castor, and Pollux? Yet these are worshiped just as much as those, and among some peoples far more. These too, then, must be considered gods, though born of mortal mothers. What of Aristaeus, said to have discovered the olive, Apollo’s son; Theseus, Neptune’s son; and the others whose fathers are gods? Will they not be counted among the gods? What of those whose mothers are goddesses? Even more so, I imagine. Just as [in] civil law the child of a free mother is free, so by natural law the child of a divine mother must be a god. Thus the islanders of Astypalaea worship Achilles with the greatest reverence. If he is a god, Orpheus and Rhesus are gods too, each born of a Muse—unless perhaps marriages at sea rank higher than those on land. If these are not gods because they are worshiped nowhere, how are the others gods?”

[3.46]
“Consider, then, whether these honors are paid to human excellence, not immortality—as you too, Balbus, seemed to suggest. And if you think Latona a goddess, how can you not think the same of Hecate, whose mother Asteria is Latona’s sister? Or is she a goddess too? We have seen her altars and shrines in Greece. But if she is a goddess, why not the Eumenides? If they are goddesses—they have a sanctuary at Athens and, as I understand it, the grove of Furina here at Rome—then the Furies are goddesses, watchers, I suppose, and avengers of crime and wickedness.”

[3.47]
“But if there are gods of a kind that intervene in human affairs, Natio too must be considered a goddess. We regularly offer sacrifice to her when we make the circuit of the shrines in the territory of Ardea. Because she watches over married women in childbirth, she was named Natio, Birth, from those being born. If she is a goddess, all those you mentioned are gods: Honor, Faith, Mind, Concord; therefore Hope and Moneta the Warner too, and everything we can fashion for ourselves in thought. If that is not plausible, neither is the premise from which these conclusions flowed. Tell me, moreover: if those we worship and have received by tradition are gods, why should we not count Serapis and Isis in the same class? If we do, why reject the gods of foreign peoples? We shall then include among the gods oxen and horses, ibises and hawks, asps, crocodiles and fish, dogs, wolves and cats, and many other beasts besides. If we reject these, we shall also reject the premises that gave rise to them.”

[3.48]
“What next? Will Ino be considered a goddess and called Leucothea, the White Goddess, by the Greeks, and Matuta by us, though she is Cadmus’s daughter, while Circe, Pasiphae, and Aeetes, born of Perseis, Ocean’s daughter, and fathered by the Sun, are not counted among the gods? Yet our colonists at Circeii also worship Circe devoutly. So you consider her a goddess. What will you answer Medea, whose two grandfathers were gods, the Sun and Ocean, and whose father was Aeetes and mother Idyia? What of her brother Absyrtus—called Aegialeus in Pacuvius, though the former name is more common in ancient writings? If these are not gods, I fear for Ino’s position; for all these claims have flowed from the same source.”

[3.49]
“Will Amphiaraus and Trophonius, then, be gods? Our tax contractors, at least, when the censors’ contract exempted lands belonging to immortal gods in Boeotia, denied that anyone who had once been human was immortal. But if these are gods, Erechtheus certainly is: we have seen both his shrine and his priest at Athens. If we make him a god, what doubt can we have about Codrus, or the others who fell fighting for their country’s freedom? If this is not acceptable, neither should we accept the earlier claims from which these flow.”

[3.50]
“In most states, indeed, we can understand that the memory of brave men has been consecrated with honors paid to immortal gods in order to foster courage, so that the best men might more readily face danger for their country. For this very reason Erechtheus and his daughters are counted among the gods at Athens, where there is also the daughters of Leos’ shrine, called the Leocorion. The people of Alabanda worship Alabandus, who founded that city, more devoutly than any of the renowned gods. When someone there pestered Stratonicus, insisting that Alabandus was a god but Hercules was not, he gave one of his many witty replies: ‘Then,’”

[3.51]
“he said, ‘let Alabandus be angry with me, and Hercules with you.’ But do you not see, Balbus, how far your arguments drawn from heaven and the stars spread? The sun and moon are gods; the Greeks identify the one with Apollo, the other with Diana. But if the moon is a goddess, then the Morning Star and the other wandering stars will also take their place among the gods; therefore the fixed stars too. Why should the rainbow’s form not be counted among the gods? It is beautiful, and because of that appearance, and because its origin is marvelous, it is said to be the daughter of Thaumas, Wonder. If its nature is divine, what will you do with clouds? The rainbow itself is made from clouds colored in a certain way; one cloud is even said to have given birth to the Centaurs. But if you enroll clouds among the gods, you will certainly have to enroll storms, which have been consecrated in the rites of the Roman people. Rain, storm clouds, squalls, and whirlwinds must therefore be considered gods. Our generals, at least, have customarily sacrificed a victim to the waves when embarking at sea.”

[3.52]
“Again, if Ceres is named from ‘bearing,’ as you said, the earth itself is a goddess—and is held to be one, for what else is Tellus? But if the earth is, so is the sea, which you identified with Neptune; therefore rivers and springs too. Accordingly, Masso dedicated a shrine to Fons, the god of springs, after his campaign in Corsica; and in the augurs’ prayer we see Tiberinus, Spino, Anemo, Nodinus, and other names of neighboring rivers. Either this will spread without limit, then, or we shall accept none of it. That limitless system of superstition cannot be approved; therefore none of these claims should be approved.”

[3.53]
“So, Balbus, we must also argue against those who say that these gods, whom we all worship with solemn reverence, were transferred from the human race to heaven not in reality but only in belief. To begin with, the so-called theologians count three Jupiters. The first and second were born in Arcadia: one had Aether for his father and, they say, fathered Proserpina and Liber; the other had Heaven for his father, and is said to have fathered Minerva, whom they call the originator and inventor of war. The third was a Cretan, Saturn’s son, whose tomb is shown on that island. The Greeks also give the name Dioscuri, Sons of Zeus, to several groups. First are the three called the Anactes, the Lords, at Athens: Tritopatreus, Eubuleus, and Dionysus, born of the most ancient King Jupiter and Proserpina. Second are Castor and Pollux, born of the third Jupiter and Leda. The third group, according to some, consists of Alco, Melampus, and †Euiolus, sons of Atreus, who was Pelops’s son.”

[3.54]
“Then there are the Muses: the first four, [born] of the second Jupiter, †born, and Thelxinoe†, Aoede, Arche, and Melete; the second nine, offspring of the third Jupiter and Mnemosyne; and the third, [of the third Jupiter,] born of Pierus and Antiope. Poets commonly call these last Pierides and Pieriae; their names and number are the same as those immediately before them. You say the sun was named Sol because it is alone; yet how many Suns the theologians bring forward! One was born of Jupiter and was Aether’s grandson; another of Hyperion; a third of Vulcan, the Nile’s son, whose city the Egyptians maintain is the one called Heliopolis. A fourth is the one whom Acantho is said to have borne at Rhodes in the heroic age, father of Ialysus, Camirus, and Lindus, from whom the Rhodians descend. A fifth is said to have fathered Aeetes and Circe in Colchis. There are several Vulcans too:”

[3.55]
“the first was born of Heaven, and by Minerva fathered the Apollo whom ancient historians held to be the guardian of Athens. The second, born [in] the Nile, is called Opas by the Egyptians, who regard him as the guardian of Egypt. The third was born of the third Jupiter and Juno, and is said to have presided over the smithy on Lemnos. The fourth was born of Maemalius and ruled the islands near Sicily that were called the Vulcanian Islands.”

[3.56]
“One Mercury was born of Heaven as father and Day as mother; his private parts are said to have become indecently aroused because the sight of Proserpina excited him. Another, the son of Valens and Phoronis, is the subterranean being identified with Trophonius. A third was born of the third Jupiter and Maia; they say he and Penelope were Pan’s parents. A fourth had the Nile for his father; the Egyptians consider it sacrilege to speak his name. The fifth, worshiped by the people of Pheneus, is said to have killed Argus and for that reason fled to Egypt, where he gave the Egyptians laws and writing. The Egyptians call him Theyt, and the first month of their year bears the same name.”

[3.57]
“The first Aesculapius was Apollo’s son, worshiped by the Arcadians, who is said to have invented the surgical probe and to have been the first to bandage a wound. The second was the second Mercury’s brother: they say he was struck by lightning and buried at Cynosurae. The third, son of Arsippus and Arsinoe, is said to have first discovered purging the bowels and extracting teeth; his tomb and grove are shown in Arcadia, not far from the River Lusius. The oldest Apollo is the one I mentioned a little earlier as born of Vulcan, the guardian of Athens. Another, son of Corybas, was born in Crete and is said to have contested that island with Jupiter himself. The third was born of the third Jupiter and Latona; they say he came to Delphi from the Hyperboreans. The fourth is in Arcadia; the Arcadians call him Nomion, the Lawgiver, because they say they received their laws from him.”

[3.58]
“There are also several Dianas: the first, daughter of Jupiter and Proserpina, is said to have borne the winged Cupid. The second is better known, the one we are told was born of the third Jupiter and Latona. The third is said to have Upis for her father and Glauce for her mother; the Greeks often call her Upis after her father. We have many Dionysuses: the first born of Jupiter and Proserpina; the second of the Nile, said to have killed Nysa; the third had Cabirus for his father, and is said to have ruled as king over Asia—the Sabazian rites were established for him. The fourth was born of Jupiter and the Moon, and the Orphic rites are thought to be performed for him. The fifth was born of Nysus and Thyone, and is believed to have instituted the festivals celebrated every third year.”

[3.59]
“The first Venus was born of Heaven and Day; we have seen her shrine at Elis. Another sprang from foam; she and Mercury, we are told, were the parents of the second Cupid. A third, born of Jupiter and Dione, married Vulcan, but she and Mars are said to have been the parents of Anteros, Love Returned. The fourth, conceived in Syria and Cyprus, is called Astarte and is recorded as having married Adonis. The first Minerva is the one we mentioned above as Apollo’s mother; the second sprang from the Nile and is worshiped by the Egyptians of Sais. The third is the one we said above was begotten by Jupiter. The fourth, born of Jupiter and Coryphe, Ocean’s daughter, is called Coria by the Arcadians and is said to have invented four-horse chariots. The fifth is Pallas’s daughter, said to have killed her father when he tried to violate her virginity; they attach winged sandals to her feet.”

[3.60]
“The first Cupid is said to have been born of Mercury and the first Diana; the second of Mercury and the second Venus; the third, who is also Anteros, of Mars and the third Venus. These and other such stories have been gathered from the ancient traditions of Greece. You understand that they must be resisted if religion is not to be thrown into confusion. Yet your school not only fails to refute them, but actually confirms them by interpreting what each story signifies.

“But let us now return to the point from which we digressed. Do you really think, then, that any subtler reasoning is needed to refute these claims?”

[3.61]
“For we see that mind, faith, hope, virtue, honor, victory, safety, concord, and the like have the character of things, not gods. They either reside within us, like mind, hope, faith, virtue, and concord, or are things we should wish for, like honor, safety, and victory. I see the usefulness of these things; I also see statues consecrated to them. But why divine power should reside in them I shall understand when I have learned it. Fortune especially must be counted in this class: no one will separate her from fickleness and recklessness, qualities certainly unworthy of a god.”

[3.62]
“And why are you so delighted with that explanation of myths and unraveling of names? Heaven was castrated by his son, Saturn likewise bound by his son: these and similar stories you defend in a way that makes their inventors appear not merely sane but wise. And in unraveling names you toil pitifully: ‘Saturn, because he saturates himself with years; Mavors, because he overturns great things; Minerva, because she diminishes or because she threatens; Venus, because she comes to everything; Ceres, from bearing.’ What a dangerous practice! Many names will leave you stranded. What will you do with Vejovis? What with Vulcan? Though, since you think Neptune was named from swimming, there will be no name whose derivation you cannot explain from a single letter. In that case, indeed, it seemed to me that you were floundering more than Neptune himself.”

[3.63]
“First Zeno, then Cleanthes, then Chrysippus undertook an enormous and wholly unnecessary burden: to account for invented myths and explain why each thing was given its particular name. When you do this, you surely admit that reality is very different from what people believe: that those called gods are natural substances, not divine persons. So great was the error that destructive things were not only given divine names but even assigned rites of worship. We see a shrine of Fever on the Palatine, one of Orbona, Bereavement, beside the temple of the Lares, and an altar consecrated to Bad Fortune on the Esquiline.”

[3.64]
“Let philosophy banish every such error, so that when we discuss the immortal gods we say things worthy of the immortal gods. I have my own view about them, but I have nothing on which to agree with you. You say Neptune is an intelligent soul extending throughout the sea, and say the same of Ceres. Yet I cannot grasp this intelligence of sea or earth in thought, or even form a conjecture about it. I must therefore seek elsewhere to learn both that gods exist and what they are like; such as you wish them to be […].”

[3.65]
“[…] let us examine what follows: first, whether the world is governed by the gods’ wisdom; then, whether the gods care for human affairs. These are the two points left from your division, and, if you agree, I think we should discuss them more closely.”

“‘I certainly agree,’ said Velleius. ‘I expect greater things still, and I heartily assent to what has been said.’”

“Then Balbus said, ‘I do not want to interrupt you, Cotta, but we shall take another occasion; I will certainly make you admit it. But […]’”

“[…]
Cicero — — after saying many things that could undermine religious observances, nevertheless says that [Cotta] holds that these matters should not be debated before the public, lest such discussion extinguish the religious practices publicly adopted (Lact. Inst. 2.3.2)”

“[…]
For, to begin with, we cannot be brought to believe that this immortal and supremely excellent nature is divided into sexes — — before all others, Tullius — — fearing no charge of impiety — — showed with greater piety what he thought of such a belief (Arnob. Nat. 3.6)”

“[…]
whether the world is governed by the gods’ wisdom (v. 5)”

“[…] on the abundance of the benefits we receive”

“[…] on the ordered succession of the seasons and the regularity of the heavens”

“[…] on Chrysippus’s arguments, on the comparison of a beautiful house with the beauty of the world, on the harmony and accord of the whole world, on Zeno’s syllogisms”

“[…] on the power of fire and the heat from which all things are generated”

“[…] whether the universe as a whole, the sun, the moon, and the stars possess sensation and intelligence; on the heavenly bodies’ need for nourishment”

“[…] on nature proceeding artistically”

“[…] that the world was not built but formed by nature
[…]”

“First, then, it is not plausible that the matter from which all things arose was produced by divine providence; rather, it has and has always had its own power and nature. Just as a builder, when about to build something, does not make the material himself but uses what is available, and a modeler likewise uses wax, so this divine providence needed material at hand—not material it made itself, but material it found ready. But if matter was not made by god, neither were earth, water, air, and fire made by god.
[…]”

“Why, if god made everything for humanity’s sake, are so many things found in both sea and land that oppose us, are hostile to us, and bring us destruction? [10] Failing to see the truth, the Stoics have met this objection most foolishly. They say that among growing things and among animals there are many whose usefulness is still hidden, but that it will be discovered in the course of time, just as necessity and experience have already discovered many things unknown to earlier ages. [11] What use, after all, can be found in mice, cockroaches, and snakes, which trouble and harm human beings? Is some medicine hidden in them? If there is, let it eventually be discovered: it will, of course, be a remedy against evils, whereas their complaint is that evil exists at all. [12] They say that a viper, burned and reduced to ash, cures the bite of the same creature. How much better it would have been for the creature not to exist at all than for a remedy against it to be required from the creature itself! (Lact. ira 13.9-12)

“[…]
God either wishes to remove evils and cannot, or can and does not wish to, or neither wishes to nor can, or both wishes to and can. [21] If he wishes to and cannot, he is weak, which is incompatible with god. If he can and does not wish to, he is begrudging, which is equally foreign to god. If he neither wishes to nor can, he is both begrudging and weak, and therefore not a god. If he both wishes to and can, which alone befits god, where do evils come from, or why does he not remove them? (Lact. ira 13.20-21)

“[…]
Human beings surpass all beasts (Diom. GL. 1.313.10)

“[…]”

“Human beings surpass all beasts
[…]”

“Things will certainly not go that way; there is a great struggle ahead.

“For would I plead with him in such honeyed words,

if not to serve my purpose?”

[3.66]
“Does she seem to reason too little, and not to be plotting monstrous destruction for herself? And how cunningly reasoned is this:
‘Who wants what he wants will find things turn out as he works for them’—
a line that sows every kind of evil.
‘Today, in his misguided thinking, he has handed me the bars

with which I will unlock all my anger and bring him ruin,

grief for me and mourning for him, death for him and exile for me.’
“Beasts, of course, do not have this reason, which you say was granted to humanity alone as a divine gift.”

[3.67]
“Do you see, then, what a gift the gods have bestowed on us? And the same Medea, fleeing her father and her country:
‘After her father

draws near and is already almost ready to seize her,

meanwhile she slaughters the boy, divides his limbs joint by joint,

and scatters his body far and wide across the fields. She does this

so that, while the father gathers up his son’s scattered limbs,

she may escape, and grief delay him in pursuit,

and she may secure her safety by murdering her own kin.’”

[3.68]
“She lacked neither wickedness nor reason. And what of the man preparing that deadly feast for his brother? Does he not turn his reasoning this way and that in thought?
‘I must raise a greater weight, stir up a greater evil,

to batter and crush his bitter heart.’
“Nor should we pass over the other man himself,
‘who was not content to lure his brother’s wife to adultery,’
“of whom Atreus speaks rightly and with perfect truth:
‘What I think the highest danger in the highest affairs

is that royal mothers should be defiled,

the bloodline tainted, the lineage mixed.’
“But how cunning was this very man, who sought a kingdom through adultery:
‘I add to this,’ he says, ‘that the father of the heavenly gods,

as a portent, sent me a marvel, a bulwark of my reign:

a lamb among the flocks, gleaming with golden fleece,

which Thyestes once dared steal from the royal house,

[in] which deed he took my wife as his accomplice.’”

[3.69]
“Does he not seem to have used the utmost reason along with the utmost wickedness? Nor is the stage alone full of these crimes: everyday life is full of crimes almost greater still. Every household feels it; so do the Forum, the Senate house, the Field of Mars, our allies, and our provinces: reason serves wrongdoing just as it serves right action. But right action comes from few people, and rarely; wrongdoing comes constantly, and from the great majority. It would have been better, then, for the immortal gods to have given us no reason at all than to have given it with such destructive consequences. Just as it is better not to give wine to the sick at all, since it rarely helps and very often harms, than to risk certain destruction in the hope of uncertain recovery, so perhaps it would have been better for humanity never to have received that swift movement of thought, that keenness and ingenuity we call reason, rather than to have received it so generously and abundantly, since it destroys so many and saves so very few.”

[3.70]
“If, then, divine intelligence and will cared for human beings by bestowing reason on them, it cared only for those to whom it gave good reason. These, as we see, are very few, if indeed there are any. But it is unacceptable that the immortal gods should have cared for only a few. It follows, therefore, that they cared for no one.

“You usually meet this argument by saying that the gods have not provided any less excellently for us because many people misuse their gift; many people also misuse inherited estates, yet that does not mean they have received no benefit from their fathers. Does anyone deny it? But what likeness is there in this comparison? Deianira did not intend to harm Hercules when she gave him the tunic steeped in the Centaur’s blood; nor did the man who opened Jason of Pherae’s abscess with his sword intend to help him, though doctors had been unable to cure it. Many people have helped when they meant to harm, and harmed when they meant to help. Thus the result of a gift does not reveal the giver’s intention; nor, if the recipient makes good use of it, does that prove the giver gave it out of friendship.”

[3.71]
“For what lust, what greed, what crime is undertaken without a plan, or accomplished without mental activity and thought—that is, reason? Every judgment is an act of reason: good reason if the judgment is true, bad reason if it is false. But from god we have only reason, if indeed we have it from him; good reason or bad comes from ourselves. Reason was not given to human beings by the gods’ favor in the way that an estate is bequeathed. For what could the gods have given humanity instead, if they had wanted to harm us? What seeds of injustice, intemperance, and cowardice could there have been, unless reason underlay those vices?

“We were just mentioning Medea and Atreus, heroic figures who, after reckoning and calculating, planned monstrous crimes.”

[3.72]
“What of comedy’s frivolities? Do they not constantly turn on reason? Does the man in The Eunuch not argue with considerable subtlety?
‘What am I to do, then?

“‘She shut me out; she calls me back. Shall I return? Not if she begs me.’
“And the man in The Young Comrades certainly does not hesitate, in the Academic manner, to use reason to fight the common view, when he says that ‘in the depths of love and poverty it is pleasant’
‘to have a father miserly, graceless, harsh toward his children,

who neither loves you nor cares for you.’”

[3.73]
“He even supplies little arguments for this incredible opinion:
‘You might cheat him of some income, or through the accounts

divert some payment, or use a little slave

to frighten the timid man out of his money. In short, what you get

from a stingy father, how much more gladly you squander!’
“The same man argues that an easygoing, generous father is a disadvantage to a son in love:
‘I do not know how to trick him, or what to take from him,

or what deceit or scheme to contrive against him:

my father’s kindness has tied up all my tricks,

my frauds and sleights of hand.’
“What, then? Could these tricks, schemes, frauds, and sleights of hand have existed without reason? What a splendid gift from the gods, allowing Phormio to say:
‘Bring on the old man; all my plans are ready in my heart.’”

[3.74]
“But let us leave the theater and come to the Forum. The praetor takes his seat. What is to be tried? Who set fire to the public records office. What crime could be more secret? Yet Quintus Sosius, a distinguished Roman knight from Picenum, confessed that he had done it. Who falsified public records: Lucius Alenus did that too, when he forged the signatures of the six leading clerks. What could be more ingenious than this man? Look at other trials: the gold of Tolosa, the conspiracy in Jugurtha’s interest. Recall earlier cases: Tubulus, for taking money to decide a case. Later ones: the trial for unchastity under Peducaeus’s bill. Then these everyday cases: assassinations, poisonings, embezzlement, and the trials concerning wills under the new law. From this comes the legal claim, ‘I declare that the theft was committed with your assistance and advice’; from this, so many proceedings for bad faith—in guardianship, agency, partnership, and trust, and all the other breaches of good faith in buying, selling, hiring, and letting. From this comes the public prosecution over a private matter under the Laetorian law; from this, that net that sweeps up every kind of dishonesty, the action for malicious fraud introduced by our friend Gaius Aquillius. Aquillius himself holds that such fraud is established when one thing is pretended and another done.”

[3.75]
“Are we to think, then, that the immortal gods sowed this vast crop of evils? For if the gods gave human beings reason, they gave them malice: malice is cunning and deceitful reasoning directed toward harm. Those same gods also gave fraud, crime, and all the rest, none of which can be undertaken or accomplished without reason. Just as that old woman wishes
‘that in the woods of Pelion the fir beams,

cut down by axes, had never fallen to the ground,’
“so I wish the gods had never given humanity this cunning, which very few use well—and even those few are often crushed by those who use it badly—while countless people use it wickedly. It seems, then, that this divine gift of reason and planning was bestowed on human beings for deceit, not goodness.”

[3.76]
“But you keep insisting that the fault belongs to human beings, not gods. As if a doctor blamed the severity of a disease, or a helmsman the violence of a storm! They are only little human beings, certainly, but ridiculous all the same. ‘Who would have called you in,’ someone might say, ‘if those things did not exist?’ Against a god one may argue more freely: ‘You say the fault lies in human vices. You should have given human beings a kind of reason that excluded vice and fault.’ Where, then, was there room for the gods to make a mistake? We leave estates in the hope of making a good bequest, and that hope may deceive us. How could a god be deceived? As the Sun was when he let his son Phaethon mount his chariot? Or Neptune when Theseus destroyed Hippolytus, having received from his father Neptune the power to make three wishes?”

[3.77]
“These are poets’ tales; we want to be philosophers, authorities on facts, not fictions. Yet even those poetic gods, if they had known their gifts would be fatal to their sons, would be thought to have erred in their generosity. And if what Aristo of Chios used to say is true—that philosophers harm those of their listeners who misinterpret sound teaching, since the profligate can emerge from Aristippus’s school and the harsh from Zeno’s—then certainly, if those who heard them were going to leave as vicious people because they twisted the philosophers’ arguments, it would be better for philosophers to remain silent than to harm their listeners.”

[3.78]
“Likewise, if human beings turn reason, given by the immortal gods with good intentions, to deceit and malice, it would have been better for humanity not to have received it than to have received it. Just as a doctor would be gravely at fault if he knew that a patient prescribed wine would drink it too strong and immediately die, so your Providence deserves blame for giving reason to people it knew would use it perversely and wickedly. Unless perhaps you say it did not know! If only you would—but you will not dare, for I am well aware how highly you esteem its name.”

[3.79]
“But this argument can now be brought to a close. If folly, as all philosophers agree, is a greater evil than all evils of fortune and body put together on the other side, and no one attains wisdom, then all of us are in the utmost misery, though you say the immortal gods have cared for us so excellently. For just as it makes no difference whether no one is healthy or no one can be healthy, so I cannot understand what difference there is between no one’s being wise and no one’s being able to be wise.

“We have said far too much about something perfectly obvious. Telamon, however, completes the whole argument for the gods’ neglect of humanity in a single line:
‘For if they cared, good people would fare well, bad people badly—which is not the case.’
“They ought indeed to have made everyone good, if they really cared for the human race.”

[3.80]
“But failing that, they certainly ought to have cared for the good. Why, then, did the Carthaginian overwhelm the two Scipios, supremely brave and excellent men, in Spain? Why did Maximus bury his son, a former consul? Why did Hannibal kill Marcellus? Why did Cannae carry off Paulus? Why was Regulus’s body surrendered to Carthaginian cruelty? Why did the walls of his own home not protect Africanus? But these and many others are old examples; let us look at more recent ones. Why is my uncle Publius Rutilius, a man of utmost integrity and learning, in exile? Why was my fellow priest Drusus killed in his own home? Why was the chief pontiff Quintus Scaevola, a model of self-control and wisdom, butchered before Vesta’s image? Why, even earlier, were so many leading citizens killed by Cinna? Why was that most treacherous of men, Gaius Marius, able to order the death of Quintus Catulus, a man of the highest distinction?”

[3.81]
“The day would fail me if I tried to count the good people who have met with misfortune, and no less if I listed the wicked who have prospered. Why did Marius die so happily in his own home, an old man in his seventh consulship? Why did Cinna, the cruelest of men, rule so long? ‘But he paid the penalty.’ It would have been better to restrain him and prevent him from killing so many outstanding men than for him eventually to pay the penalty himself. Quintus Varius, a monstrous man, perished in the utmost torture and torment. If this was because he had killed Drusus with a sword and Metellus with poison, it would have been better for them to be saved than for Varius to pay for his crime. Dionysius was tyrant of a most wealthy and prosperous city for thirty-eight years.”

[3.82]
“And for how many years before him did Pisistratus rule in the very flower of Greece! ‘But Phalaris, but Apollodorus paid the penalty.’ Yes, after torturing and killing many people. Many pirates, too, are often punished; yet we cannot deny that more captives have been cruelly killed than pirates. We have heard that Anaxarchus, the follower of Democritus, was butchered by a Cypriot tyrant, and Zeno of Elea killed under torture. What shall I say of Socrates, whose death often brings me to tears as I read Plato? Do you see, then, that in the gods’ judgment—if they observe human affairs—all distinction has been abolished?”

[3.83]
“Diogenes the Cynic used to say that Harpalus, considered a successful brigand in those days, bore witness against the gods by living so long in such good fortune. Dionysius, whom I mentioned earlier, was sailing to Syracuse after plundering Proserpina’s sanctuary at Locri. As he held his course with a most favorable wind, he laughed and said, ‘Do you see, friends, what a fine voyage the immortal gods grant the sacrilegious?’ Being a shrewd man, once he had grasped the lesson clearly and fully, he held to the same view. When he brought his fleet to the Peloponnese and entered the temple of Olympian Jupiter, he stripped the god of a gold mantle of great weight, with which the tyrant Gelo had adorned Jupiter from the spoils of the Carthaginians. He even joked that a gold mantle was heavy in summer and cold in winter, and threw a woolen cloak over him, saying that it suited every season. He also ordered the gold beard removed from Aesculapius at Epidaurus: it was not fitting, he said, for the son to wear a beard when his father was beardless in every shrine.”

[3.84]
“He then ordered the silver tables removed from all the shrines. Since they bore the inscription ‘of the good gods,’ according to ancient Greek custom, he said he wished to make use of their goodness. He likewise took without hesitation the little gold Victories, bowls, and crowns held out in the statues’ extended hands, saying that he was accepting them, not taking them away: it was foolish to ask the gods for good things but refuse to take them when they held them out and offered them. They also say that he brought the things I have mentioned, taken from the shrines, into the marketplace and sold them by auction. After collecting the money, he issued an edict that everyone who possessed anything from the sanctuaries should return each object to its own shrine before a fixed day. Thus to impiety toward the gods he added injustice toward human beings. Yet Olympian Jupiter did not strike him with lightning, nor did Aesculapius waste him away with a wretched, lingering disease and kill him. He died in his own bed and was carried to the †tyrant’s funeral pyre; and the power he himself had won by crime he handed down to his son as an inheritance, as though it were just and lawful.”

[3.85]
“My argument dwells unwillingly on this subject, for it seems to sanction wrongdoing. It would rightly seem so, were it not that, quite apart from any divine reckoning, conscience itself has great weight in matters of virtue and vice. Remove conscience, and everything collapses. Just as no household or state would seem to be ordered by any rational discipline if it provided neither rewards for right action nor punishments for wrong, so surely there is no divine governance of the world in relation to humanity if it makes no distinction between good and bad.”

[3.86]
“‘But the gods neglect lesser matters; they do not attend to everyone’s little fields or vines, and if blight or hail has harmed someone, Jupiter was not obliged to take notice. Even kings in their kingdoms do not concern themselves with every tiny detail.’ That is what you say—as if I had just been complaining about Publius Rutilius’s estate at Formiae, not the loss of his civic security. Yet all mortals hold that they receive their external advantages from the gods—vineyards, grainfields, olive groves, abundant crops and fruit, in short, every comfort and success in life. But no one has ever credited a god with the gift of virtue.”

[3.87]
“And rightly so. For we are justly praised for virtue, and rightly take pride in it; this would not be so if we received it as a gift from a god rather than from ourselves. But if our honors or wealth increase, or if we acquire some other accidental good or avert some evil, then we thank the gods, and then we think no credit belongs to us. Has anyone ever thanked the gods for being a good man? But for being rich, honored, or unharmed, yes. People call Jupiter Best and Greatest for these reasons—not because he makes us just, temperate, or wise, but because he makes us safe, sound, wealthy, and well supplied.”

[3.88]
“Nor has anyone ever vowed a tenth to Hercules if he became wise—though Pythagoras, on discovering something new in geometry, is said to have sacrificed an ox to the Muses. I do not believe that, however, since he would not sacrifice a victim even to Apollo at Delos, for fear of spattering the altar with blood. To return to the point, all mortals judge that good fortune should be sought from a god, but wisdom obtained from oneself. However many shrines we consecrate to Mind, Virtue, and Faith, we still see that these things lie within ourselves. The means of gaining hope, safety, aid, and victory must be sought from the gods.

“The prosperity and success of the wicked, then, disprove, as Diogenes said, all the gods’ force and power.”

[3.89]
“‘But good people sometimes have good outcomes.’ We seize on these cases and attribute them to the immortal gods without any reason. When Diagoras—the one called the Atheist—came to Samothrace, a friend said to him, ‘You think the gods neglect human affairs. Do you not notice, from all these painted tablets, how many people escaped the violence of a storm through their vows and reached harbor safely?’ ‘That is how it appears,’ he said, ‘for those who were shipwrecked and died at sea are not pictured anywhere.’ On another occasion, while he was sailing, his fellow passengers, frightened and terrified by a storm, told him their misfortune was deserved, since they had admitted him to the same ship. He pointed out many other ships struggling on the same course and asked whether they thought Diagoras was also aboard those ships. The truth is that your character and the way you have lived make no difference to good or bad fortune.”

[3.90]
“‘The gods do not attend to everything,’ he says, ‘any more than kings do.’ What resemblance is there? If kings knowingly overlook something, they are greatly at fault; but a god does not even have ignorance as an excuse. A fine defense you make of him, when you say that the gods’ power is such that, even if someone escapes punishment for his crime through death, the punishment is exacted from his children, grandchildren, and descendants! What marvelous fairness in the gods! Would any state tolerate a legislator who proposed a law condemning a son or grandson if his father or grandfather had done wrong?
‘What limit will be set to the slaughter of Tantalus’s line,

or when, in paying for Myrtilus’s death,

will punishment ever have its fill?’”

[3.91]
“I could not easily say whether poets corrupted the Stoics or the Stoics lent authority to the poets: both speak monstrous and shameful things. A man hurt by Hipponax’s iambic verse or wounded by a poem of Archilochus did not harbor a grief sent by a god rather than conceived within himself. Nor, when we see the lust of Aegisthus or Paris, do we seek its cause in a god, when we can almost hear guilt speak. Nor do I judge that the recovery of many sick people came from Aesculapius rather than Hippocrates; nor will I ever say that the Spartans’ discipline was given to Sparta by Apollo rather than Lycurgus. Critolaus, I say, destroyed Corinth, and Hasdrubal Carthage. Those two gouged out those eyes of the seacoast—not some angry god, whom you deny can feel anger at all.”

[3.92]
“But a god could certainly have come to their aid and saved cities so great and noble. You yourselves habitually say that there is nothing a god cannot accomplish, and without any effort. Just as the human limbs move without exertion at the mind’s mere wish and will, so, you say, all things can be shaped, moved, and changed by the gods’ command. You do not say this in a superstitious, old-womanish way, but on consistent physical principles: the matter from which and in which everything exists is entirely flexible and changeable, so that there is nothing that cannot be fashioned and transformed from it, however suddenly; divine providence is the shaper and governor of it all, and therefore, wherever it turns, can accomplish whatever it wishes. Accordingly, it either does not know its own power, or neglects human affairs, or cannot judge what is best.”

[3.93]
“‘It does not care for individual people.’ No wonder: not even for cities. Not for cities? Not even for nations and peoples. If it disregards even these, what wonder that it has disregarded the entire human race?

“But how can you both say that the gods do not attend to everything and maintain that dreams are distributed and allotted to human beings by the immortal gods? I bring this up with you because belief in the truth of dreams belongs to your school. And you also say that vows ought to be undertaken. Yet individuals make vows; therefore the divine mind hears about individuals too. You see, then, that it is not as busy as you supposed. Grant that it is fully occupied, turning the heavens, watching over the earth, governing the seas: why does it let so many gods remain idle and do nothing? Why does it not put some unoccupied gods in charge of human affairs—those gods whose countless numbers you described, Balbus?

“This is nearly all I had to say about the nature of the gods—not to abolish it, but to make you understand how obscure it is and how difficult to explain.”

[3.94]
With these words Cotta finished. Lucilius said, “You have certainly attacked with great force, Cotta, the Stoic doctrine of divine providence, which they established with the utmost reverence and wisdom. But since evening is coming on, you will give us another day to answer these arguments. My contest with you is for hearths and altars, for the gods’ temples and shrines, and for the walls of the city, which you pontiffs declare sacred, encircling the city more carefully with religion than with its actual ramparts. To abandon these, as long as I can breathe, I consider a sacrilege.”

[3.95]
“For my part,” said Cotta, “I both wish to be refuted, Balbus, and preferred to discuss the points I argued rather than pronounce judgment on them. I know for certain that you can easily defeat me.”

“Of course,” said Velleius, “since he even thinks dreams are sent to us by Jupiter—though dreams themselves are less insubstantial than the Stoics’ account of the nature of the gods.”

After these words we parted: Velleius thought Cotta’s argument truer, while I thought Balbus’s leaned more toward the probable truth.

## Translation — Mouseia

> Complete machine-assisted Plain English translation independently made directly from the same Latin, not from the Musean edition or a historical English translation, and reviewed against the source. Source gaps, uncertain readings and the later-author fragments in 3.65 are retained. Perseus digital source attribution and CC BY-SA 4.0 apply as recorded in the source registry.

### Book 1

[1.1]
There’s still a great deal in philosophy that hasn’t been adequately explained. But the question of what the gods are like is especially difficult and obscure, Brutus, as you know very well. It’s both a wonderful subject for the mind to explore and essential for guiding religious practice. <Since> the most learned people hold such varied and conflicting opinions about it, <this> question should provide strong evidence that philosophy’s starting point […] knowledge, and that the Academics were wise to withhold agreement on uncertain matters. After all, what’s more shameful than jumping to conclusions? What could be more reckless, or less worthy of a wise person’s seriousness and consistency, than believing something false, or defending something without any doubt when it hasn’t been thoroughly examined and understood?

[1.2]
In this question, for example, most people have said that gods exist. That is the most likely view, and the one we all reach †under nature’s guidance. Protagoras said he was unsure. Diagoras of Melos and Theodorus of Cyrene thought there were no gods at all. Those who say that gods exist have so many different and conflicting views that listing them would never end. They say many things about the gods’ shapes, their homes and dwelling places, and how they spend their lives. Philosophers argue over these points with the sharpest disagreement. But the heart of the matter is this: do the gods do nothing, undertake nothing, and remain free from all care and management of things? Or, on the contrary, did they make and arrange everything from the beginning, and do they guide and move everything for all time? Here above all there is a major disagreement. Unless it is settled, people must remain deeply mistaken and ignorant about the most important matters.

[1.3]
There are philosophers now, and there have been others before them, who think the gods have absolutely no concern for human affairs. If they’re right, what room is there for devotion, reverence, or religious observance? We owe all these things to the gods’ divine power, in purity and sincerity, only if the gods notice them and have given something to the human race. But suppose the gods can’t help us, don’t want to, don’t care about us at all, don’t notice what we do, and have nothing they can contribute to human life. What reason do we have to offer the immortal gods worship, honors, or prayers? Devotion, like the other virtues, can’t exist in something that’s merely an outward pretense. Once devotion goes, reverence and religious observance must go with it. And when those disappear, life becomes disordered and deeply confused.

[1.4]
Indeed, I suspect that if devotion to the gods is removed, trust, human fellowship, and justice, that supreme virtue, may disappear with it. Other philosophers, great and famous ones, think that the gods’ mind and reason manage and govern the whole world. And not just that: they also think the gods care for and provide for human life. They believe the immortal gods give humanity crops, the other products of the earth, the weather, the changing seasons, and the changes in the sky that ripen everything the earth produces. They bring together many further arguments, which will be discussed in these books. These make it almost seem that the immortal gods made those very things for human use. Carneades argued so extensively against these thinkers that he stirred people who were not lazy-minded to want to search for the truth.

[1.5]
There is no subject on which not only the uneducated but also the learned disagree so strongly. Their views are so varied and opposed that it is certainly possible that none is true. But it is certainly impossible that more than one is true.

On this subject we can both calm friendly critics and answer hostile attackers. The latter may regret their attacks; the former may be glad to have learned something. People who offer friendly warnings should be taught. People who attack from hatred should be driven back.

[1.6]
I see that the books I’ve published—quite a few in a short time—have set off a great deal of discussion of different kinds. Some people wonder where this sudden enthusiasm for philosophy came from. Others want to know what definite positions I hold on particular questions. I’ve also found that many people are surprised by my preference for a philosophy that takes away the light and seems to spread a kind of night over everything. They hadn’t expected me to take up the defense of a school that’s deserted and has long been abandoned. But I haven’t suddenly started doing philosophy. From my earliest years, I’ve put a great deal of effort and care into it. In fact, I was most deeply engaged in philosophy when I least appeared to be. You can see that in my speeches, which are full of philosophers’ ideas. You can also see it in my friendships with very learned men, whose company has always enriched my home, and in the outstanding teachers who instructed me: Diodotus, Philo, Antiochus, and Posidonius.

[1.7]
If all the rules of philosophy apply to life, I believe that in both public and private matters I have done what reason and learning prescribed. But if someone asks what led me to put these things in writing so late, nothing could be easier to explain. I was wasting away in enforced leisure, and the state of public affairs made government by one man’s judgment and care unavoidable. So I thought, first of all for the country’s sake, that I should explain philosophy to our people. I believed it would greatly add to our country’s honor and reputation if subjects so serious and splendid were available in Latin writing too.

[1.8]
And I’ve even less reason to regret what I’ve undertaken, since I can readily see how many people I’ve encouraged not just to study but also to write. Quite a few people educated in Greek learning couldn’t share what they’d learned with their fellow citizens. They didn’t believe that what they’d received from the Greeks could be expressed in Latin. In this respect, I seem to have made enough progress that the Greeks don’t surpass us even in richness of vocabulary.

[1.9]
Another thing that drove me toward these studies was the grief caused by a great and crushing blow of fortune. If I could have found some greater relief for it, I would not have turned to this above all else. But I could enjoy even this relief best by devoting myself not only to reading books but also to working through the whole of philosophy. All its parts and branches become easiest to understand when entire questions are explained in writing. There is a wonderful continuity and sequence in its subjects. One seems linked to another, and all seem fitted and bound together.

[1.10]
Those who ask what I myself think about every subject are more curious than they need to be. In a discussion, we should look for the weight of reasons, not of authority. In fact, the authority of people who claim to teach often harms those who want to learn. The learners stop using their own judgment. They accept as settled whatever they see approved by the person they trust. Nor do I usually approve of the practice reported about the Pythagoreans. When they asserted something in a discussion and were asked why it was so, they are said to have answered, “He said so himself.” “He” was Pythagoras. So powerful was a judgment made in advance that authority could prevail even without a reason.

[1.11]
As for those who wonder why I chose this school above all others, I think my four books on Academic philosophy answer them well enough. Nor have I taken up the defense of ideas that are deserted and abandoned. Opinions do not die when their holders die, though they may miss the light their author gave them. This philosophical method of arguing against every position and deciding nothing outright began with Socrates. Arcesilaus revived it, and Carneades strengthened it. It remained vigorous down to my own time. Now, I understand, it is almost bereft of followers even in Greece itself. I think this happened not through any fault of the Academy but because people are slow. If mastering any one school is a great task, how much greater is mastering all of them! Yet that is what people must do if they aim to find the truth by arguing both against every philosopher and for every philosopher.

[1.12]
I don’t claim to have mastered something so important and so difficult. I do openly claim to have tried. Still, people who practice philosophy this way can’t be left with nothing to guide them. I’ve discussed this more carefully elsewhere. But some people are so slow and unwilling to learn that they seem to need repeated reminders. We aren’t people who think nothing’s true. We say that every true impression has false ones alongside it that look so similar that there’s no reliable mark for judging them and giving our agreement. It follows that many things are plausible. Even though they can’t be grasped with certainty, they have a distinctive, clear appearance, and a wise person’s life can be guided by them.

[1.13]
But now, to clear myself of all resentment, I’ll lay the philosophers’ views about the gods out in the open. It seems we should call them all together here to judge which view is true. Only then will I consider the Academy presumptuous: if they all agree, or if someone is found who’s discovered what’s true. So I feel like crying out, as the character does in *The Young Companions*:
“In the name of the gods, of all my fellow citizens, of <all> young men,

“I shout, demand, beg, pray, weep, and appeal to their good faith!”
And it’s not over some utterly trivial matter. That character complains that terrible crimes are being committed in the community: “A prostitute won’t take money from a friend who loves her.”

[1.14]
Instead, I want people to attend, understand, and consider what they should think about religion, devotion, reverence, rituals, good faith, and oaths; about temples, shrines, and regular sacrifices; and about the very auspices over which we preside. All these must be referred to this question about the immortal gods. The profound disagreement of the most learned people on this most important subject will surely force even those who think they have some certainty to feel doubt.

[1.15]
I’ve noticed this on many other occasions, but especially during a very thorough and careful discussion of the immortal gods at the home of my friend Gaius Cotta. I’d gone to see him during the Latin Festival, at his own invitation and request. I found him sitting in a conversation room, debating with the senator Gaius Velleius. At the time, the Epicureans ranked Velleius first among our countrymen. Quintus Lucilius Balbus was there too. He’d made such progress in Stoic philosophy that people compared him with the leading Greeks in that field.

When Cotta saw me, he said, “You’ve come at just the right moment. Velleius and I are getting into an argument about something important. Given your interests, it’s just the sort of discussion you should join.”

[1.16]
“Yes,” I said, “I think I’ve arrived at a good time too, just as you say. Here you are, three leading men from three schools. If Marcus Piso were here as well, none of the philosophical schools—at least, none of those that are respected—would lack a representative.”

Then Cotta said, “If our friend Antiochus tells the truth in the book he recently sent to Balbus here, there’s no reason for you to miss your friend Piso. Antiochus thinks the Stoics and Peripatetics agree about the substance and differ only in their words. Balbus, I’d like to know what you think of that book.”

“What do I think?” he said. “I’m surprised that Antiochus, a remarkably sharp man, hasn’t seen the enormous difference between them. The Stoics separate what’s morally good from what’s advantageous, not just by giving them different names, but by putting them in entirely different categories. The Peripatetics mix moral goodness with advantage. They make the difference between them one of size or, so to speak, degree, rather than kind. This isn’t a small disagreement over words. It’s a huge disagreement about the things themselves. But let’s leave that for another time. For now, shall we go back to what we’d started?”

[1.17]
“Certainly,” Cotta said. Then, looking at me, he added, “But let’s make sure our new arrival knows what we’re discussing. We were talking about the nature of the gods. I found it very obscure, as I always do, so I was asking Velleius for Epicurus’s view. So, Velleius, if you don’t mind, please go over what you’d begun to say.”

“Of course I’ll go over it. Though he’s come to help you, not me,” he said with a smile. “You both learned from the same Philo that you don’t know anything.”

Then I said, “I’ll let Cotta answer for what we’ve learned. But don’t think I’ve come to help him rather than to listen. I’ll be a fair listener, too, free to judge for myself. I’m under no obligation to defend some fixed opinion whether I want to or not.”

[1.18]
Then Velleius spoke with the great confidence his school usually shows. He feared nothing so much as appearing to doubt anything. He sounded as if he had just come down from the gods’ council and from Epicurus’s spaces between worlds. “Listen,” he said, “not to empty, made-up opinions; not to Plato’s god in the Timaeus, the craftsman and builder of the world; not to the Stoics’ old fortune-telling woman, Pronoia, whom we can call Providence in Latin; and certainly not to the world itself, a god with a mind and senses, round, burning, and spinning. These are freakish marvels dreamed up by philosophers asleep, not thought through by philosophers awake.

[1.19]
“What eyes did your Plato’s mind have that let him see the construction of that enormous work, when he presents the world as something a god constructs and builds? What building operation was there? What tools, levers, machines, and workers did he have for such a huge job? And how could air, fire, water, and earth obey the architect’s wishes and follow his orders? Where did those five shapes come from, which form everything else and are so neatly suited to affecting the mind and producing sensations? It would take too long to deal with every point. They all look more like things he wished for than things he discovered.”

[1.20]
“But here’s the crowning achievement. He not only presents the world as having come into existence, but almost as having been made by hand—and then says it’ll last forever. Do you think someone who believes anything that’s come into existence can be eternal has had even the slightest taste of *physiologia*, the study of nature? As the saying goes, he’s barely touched it with his lips. What structure can’t be taken apart? What can have a beginning but no end? And if your *Pronoea*, or Providence, Lucilius, is the same, I ask again for what I asked for just now: the workers, the machines, the complete plan and equipment for the whole job. But if it’s different, why did it make a world that’ll die, instead of an everlasting one like Plato’s god did?”

[1.21]
“I ask both of them: why did they suddenly become builders of the world after sleeping for countless ages? The fact that there was no world doesn’t mean there were no ages. By ‘ages’ I don’t mean periods made up of counted days and nights and yearly cycles. I admit those couldn’t have existed without the world’s rotation. But there was an eternity stretching back through infinite time, which no measured periods of time marked out. Still, we can understand its extent, because we can’t even conceive that there was”

[1.22]
a time when there was no time. So, Balbus, I ask why your Providence remained idle throughout that immense stretch. Was it avoiding work? But work does not touch a god. Nor would there have been any work, when all the elements—sky, fire, land, and sea—obeyed divine power. And what made the god want to decorate the world with figures and lights, like an official putting on public shows? If he wanted a better place to live himself, then apparently he had previously spent infinite time in the dark, as if in a shack. And afterward? Do we think he enjoys the variety with which we see heaven and earth decorated? What pleasure could that give a god? If it did, he could not have gone without it so long.

[1.23]
“Or did god arrange all this for human beings, as you generally say? For wise people? Then all that enormous construction was for just a few people. Or for fools? First, there wasn’t any reason for him to do favors for bad people. Second, what did he accomplish? Every fool is unquestionably utterly miserable, above all because they’re fools. What could we call more miserable than foolishness? Then there are so many troubles in life. Wise people soften them by weighing them against life’s benefits. Fools can neither avoid the troubles coming their way nor bear the ones they’ve already got. As for those who say the world itself is alive and wise, they completely failed to see what sort of shape could hold an intelligent mind. I’ll discuss that a little later. For now, I’ll just say this:”

[1.24]
“I can’t get over how slow-witted people must be to insist that an immortal, happy living being is a sphere, just because Plato says no other shape is more beautiful. To me, though, a cylinder, a square, a cone, or a pyramid looks more beautiful. And what sort of life do they give this spherical god? Apparently, he’s supposed to spin at a speed so great that we can’t even imagine its equal. I don’t see where a steady mind or a happy life could find a footing in all that. If even the slightest trace of something in our bodies would cause discomfort, why shouldn’t the same thing cause discomfort in god? The earth is certainly part of the world, so it’s also part of god. Yet we see vast regions of the earth that are uninhabitable and uncultivated. Some have been scorched by the sun beating down on them. Others have frozen in snow and frost because the sun is so far away. If the world is god, these regions are parts of god, since they’re parts of the world. So we must think of some of god’s limbs as burning hot and others as frozen cold.”

[1.25]
“Those, then, are your views, Lucilius. But what sort […] is, I’ll go back to the earliest of the predecessors. Thales of Miletus, the first person to investigate these questions, said water was the starting point of everything. God, he said, was the mind that shaped everything out of water—if gods can exist without awareness; and why did he attach mind to water, if mind itself can exist without a body? Anaximander’s view is that gods are born, coming into being and passing away at long intervals, and that these gods are countless worlds. But how can we understand a god as anything but everlasting?”

[1.26]
“After him, Anaximenes declared that air was god. He said it came into being, was immeasurable and infinite, and was always moving. As if shapeless air could be a god! Surely a god ought to have not just some shape, but the most beautiful one. And as if everything that’s born weren’t subject to death! Next came Anaxagoras, who studied under Anaximenes. He was the first to hold that the arrangement and order of everything were planned and carried out by the power and reason of an infinite mind. He didn’t see that there can’t be any continuous motion tied to awareness [in] something infinite. Nor can there be any awareness at all unless the thing itself receives an impact and feels it. Then again, if he meant this mind to be a kind of living creature, it’ll need something inside it to account for its name *animal*, ‘living creature.’ But what could be further inside than mind? So let it be surrounded by an outer body.”

[1.27]
“Since that doesn’t suit him, we’re left with a bare, simple mind, with nothing attached to it, yet capable of awareness. That seems beyond our ability to understand or even conceive. Alcmaeon of Croton gave divinity to the sun, the moon, the other heavenly bodies, and the soul as well. He didn’t realize he was giving immortality to things that die. Pythagoras thought there was a soul stretched throughout all nature and passing through it, with our souls taken from it. He didn’t see that pulling human souls away would tear god apart and rip him to pieces. And when souls were miserable, as happens to most of them, part of god would then be miserable. That can’t happen.”

[1.28]
“And why would a human soul be ignorant of anything if it were god? Besides, if this god were nothing but soul, how could he be fixed in the world or poured through it? Then there’s Xenophanes. He treated the infinite whole as god and gave it a mind as well. His account of mind faces the same objections as the others. His account of infinity faces even stronger ones: nothing in it can have awareness or form a connected whole. Parmenides, for his part, came up with something imaginary. He makes a continuous ring of blazing light, shaped like a crown—he calls it στεφάνην, ‘wreath.’ It circles the sky, and he calls it god. No one could imagine either a divine shape or awareness in that. He’s got plenty of other bizarre ideas too. He treats war, conflict, desire, and other things of that kind as divine, though illness, sleep, forgetfulness, or age can wipe them out. He says the same things about the stars. We’ve already criticized those ideas in someone else, so let’s leave them aside in his case.”

[1.29]
“Empedocles makes plenty of other mistakes, but his worst blunder is his view of the gods. He holds that the four substances he thinks make up everything are divine. Yet it’s obvious that they come into being, die out, and have no awareness at all. Protagoras doesn’t seem to have any idea about the gods’ nature either. He says he has no clear knowledge at all about them: whether they exist or don’t exist, or what they’re like. And what about Democritus? At one moment he counts images and their circling movements as gods. At another, it’s the substance that pours out and sends off those images. At another, it’s our own thought and understanding. Isn’t he utterly mistaken? He also denies that anything is everlasting, since nothing always stays in the same condition. Doesn’t that do away with god altogether, leaving no conception of him at all? And what about the air that Diogenes of Apollonia treats as god? What awareness could it have? What godlike shape?”

[1.30]
“It would take a long time to discuss Plato’s inconsistency. In the Timaeus he says the father of this world cannot be named. In the Laws he thinks we should not inquire into what god actually is. As for his claim that god has no body—what the Greeks call asōmaton, bodiless—we cannot understand what that could be like. Such a being must lack sensation, and also judgment and pleasure. We include all these things in our idea of gods. Yet in both the Timaeus and the Laws he also says the world is a god, and so are the sky, stars, earth, souls, and those gods handed down to us by our ancestors’ institutions. These statements are plainly false in themselves, and sharply contradict one another.

[1.31]
“Xenophon makes much the same mistakes, though he uses fewer words. In his account of what Socrates said, he has Socrates argue that we shouldn’t ask what shape god has. Yet he also has him call both the sun and the soul god, and speak sometimes of one god and sometimes of several. These are much the same errors as those in the views we’re discussing in Plato.”

[1.32]
“Antisthenes, too, in his book called On Nature, says there are many gods in popular belief but only one in nature. He thus does away with the gods’ power and nature. Speusippus does much the same. Following his uncle Plato, he speaks of a certain power that governs everything and has life. He too tries to tear the knowledge of the gods out of our minds.

[1.33]
“Aristotle also makes a mess of things in the third book of his *On Philosophy*, where he disagrees with his teacher Plato. At one moment he assigns all divinity to mind. At another he says the world itself is god. At another he puts some other being in charge of the world, with the job of controlling and maintaining its movement through a kind of backward turning. Then he says the fiery heat of the sky is god. He doesn’t realize that the sky is part of the world, which he himself has identified elsewhere as god. And how could that divine awareness in the sky survive at such enormous speed? Then where do all those gods of his come in, if we count the sky as a god too? He also wants god to have no body, but that strips him of all awareness, and of wisdom too. Besides, how could the world move without a body? Or how could it always be moving itself and still be at rest and happy?”

[1.34]
“His fellow student Xenocrates isn’t any wiser on this subject. His books on the nature of the gods don’t describe any divine shape. He says there are eight gods. Five are those called ‘wandering stars.’ Another is to be thought of as a single god made up of all the stars fixed in the sky, like scattered limbs. He adds the sun as the seventh and the moon as the eighth. It’s impossible to understand what awareness could make these gods happy. Heraclides of Pontus came from the same school of Plato. He filled his books with childish stories. Yet sometimes he thinks the world is divine, and sometimes mind. He also gives divinity to the wandering stars, strips god of awareness, and holds that god’s shape can change. Then, in the very same book, he again includes earth and sky among the gods.”

[1.35]
“Theophrastus’s inconsistency is intolerable too. At one point he gives the mind supreme divine power; at another, the sky; then again, the constellations and stars. His pupil Strato, the one called the natural philosopher, doesn’t deserve a hearing either. He thinks all divine power lies in nature. Nature, he says, contains the causes of birth, growth, and decline, but has no awareness or shape at all.”

[1.36]
“Now I’ll turn to your own school, Balbus. Zeno thinks the law of nature is divine. He says its power consists in ordering what’s right and forbidding the opposite. We can’t understand how he makes this law a living being. We certainly hold that a god must be alive. Elsewhere this same man calls the ether a god—if we can even conceive of a god that feels nothing and never enters our thoughts when we pray, express our hopes, or make vows. In other books he thinks a kind of reason running through the whole natural world has divine power. He gives the stars this same power, then years, months, and the changing seasons. But when he explains Hesiod’s Theogony, meaning the origin of the gods, he completely does away with our familiar, established ideas about them. He doesn’t count Jupiter, Juno, Vesta, or anyone bearing such a name among the gods. Instead, he teaches that these names have been assigned, with a symbolic meaning, to things that have neither life nor speech.”

[1.37]
“The view of his pupil Aristo is just as badly mistaken. He thinks we can’t grasp a god’s shape, says the gods have no awareness, and doubts whether a god is even a living being. Cleanthes studied under Zeno alongside the man I’ve just named. Sometimes he calls the universe itself a god. Sometimes he gives that name to the mind and soul of all nature. At other times he says the outermost, highest fire, which spreads around everything and encloses and embraces it all—the fire called ether—is most certainly a god. In the books he wrote against pleasure, he seems positively delirious. Now he imagines the gods with a particular shape and appearance; now he assigns all divinity to the stars; now he thinks nothing’s more divine than reason. The result is that this god, whom we recognize in our minds and want to settle into our mental conception as into his proper place, is nowhere to be found. Then there’s Persaeus, another pupil of Zeno. He says people were regarded as gods when they’d discovered something of great use in improving human life. Useful and beneficial things themselves, he adds, were given the gods’ names. He wouldn’t even say these things were inventions of the gods: the things themselves were divine;

[1.38]
“What could be more absurd than giving divine honors to dirty, ugly things, or placing among the gods people already wiped out by death, whose worship would consist entirely of mourning?

[1.39]
“Now Chrysippus, who’s considered the cleverest interpreter of Stoic dreams, gathers together a great crowd of unknown gods. They’re so unknown that we can’t even form a rough idea of them, although our minds seem able to picture anything at all. He says divine power resides in reason and in the soul and mind of nature as a whole. He calls the universe itself a god, along with its soul spread throughout it. Then he adds that soul’s ruling power, which lies in mind and reason, and the universal nature shared by everything and embracing everything. Then come the †shadow of fate and the necessity governing future events; fire, too, and the ether I mentioned earlier. He adds things that naturally flow and stream out, such as water, earth, and air; the sun, moon, and stars; the totality of things that contains everything; and even human beings who’ve gained immortality.”

[1.40]
“He also argues that ether is what people call Jupiter, that the air flowing through the seas is Neptune, and that earth is what’s called Ceres. He works through the other gods’ names in the same way. He also calls the power of the permanent, eternal law Jupiter. This law is like a guide to life and a teacher of duties. That same necessity of fate, he says, is the everlasting truth of what’ll happen. None of these things seems capable of possessing divine power.”

[1.41]
“That’s what he says in the first book of On the Nature of the Gods. In the second, he tries to fit the stories of Orpheus, Musaeus, Hesiod, and Homer to his own statements about the immortal gods in the first book. That way, even those very early poets can look like Stoics, although they never so much as suspected any of these ideas. Diogenes of Babylon follows his lead. In his book called On Minerva, he separates Jupiter’s giving birth and the virgin’s coming into existence from the mythical story and turns them into an account of nature.”

[1.42]
“I have presented, more or less, not philosophers’ judgments but madmen’s dreams. The stories poured out in the poets’ words are not much more absurd. Their very charm has made them harmful. They have presented gods blazing with anger and mad with lust. They have shown us their wars, battles, fights, and wounds; their hatreds, quarrels, and feuds; their births and deaths; their complaints and weeping; their desires running loose in every kind of excess; their adulteries and chains; their sexual relations with human beings; and mortals fathered by an immortal.

[1.43]
“With the poets’ mistakes we can join the strange tales of the Magi, the Egyptians’ madness on the same subject, and the beliefs of ordinary people, which are deeply inconsistent and ignorant of the truth.

“Anyone who considers how thoughtlessly and rashly these things are said ought to revere Epicurus, and to count him among those very beings we are discussing. He alone saw, first, that gods exist, because nature itself has stamped a concept of them in everyone’s mind. What nation or group of people lacks, without being taught, some advance idea of gods? Epicurus calls this prolēpsis: a mental picture of something formed beforehand. Without it, nothing can be understood, investigated, or discussed. We have learned the force and value of this principle from Epicurus’s heavenly book on the rule and standard of judgment.

[1.44]
“So you see how soundly the foundation of this inquiry has been laid. This belief wasn’t established by any institution, custom, or law. Everyone, without exception, continues to agree firmly on it. We must therefore recognize that the gods exist, since our knowledge of them is rooted in us—or rather, born in us. What everyone’s nature agrees on must be true. So we have to acknowledge that the gods exist. Nearly everyone agrees on this, not just philosophers but people without an education too. We admit that this point is also settled: we have what I called earlier an anticipation, or a prior conception, of the gods (new things need new names, and Epicurus himself called it πρόληψιν,

[1.45]
a word no one had used for it before). We have this notion, then, that the gods are happy and immortal. The same nature that gave us a mental picture of the gods themselves has engraved in our minds that they are eternal and happy. If that is so, Epicurus stated this principle truly: what is happy and eternal neither has any troubles itself nor causes trouble to another. So it is held by neither anger nor favor, since all such feelings belong to weakness.

“If our only aims were to worship the gods with devotion and free ourselves from superstition, enough would have been said. Human devotion would honor the gods’ excellent nature as eternal and supremely happy. Whatever excels deserves respect. And all fear of the gods’ power and anger would have been driven out. We understand that a happy, immortal nature is free of both anger and favor. With these removed, no fears threaten us from above. But to strengthen this belief, the mind asks about a god’s shape, life, and the activity and movement of his mind.

[1.46]
“As for the gods’ shape, nature gives us part of the answer and reasoning teaches us the rest. In every nation, nature gives all of us an image of the gods in human form and no other. What other shape has ever appeared to anyone, awake or asleep? But we don’t have to refer everything back to our first conceptions. Reasoning itself shows us the same thing.”

[1.47]
“The finest kind of being, whether because it’s happy or because it lives forever, should also, it seems, be the most beautiful. What arrangement of limbs, what shaping of features, what outline or appearance could be more beautiful than a human being’s? You Stoics, Lucilius, regularly describe God’s craftsmanship and construction. My friend Cotta takes one side and then the other. You explain how everything in the human form is suited not just to practical use but to beauty too;

[1.48]
“If the human form is more beautiful than that of every other living creature, and a god is a living being, then a god surely has the most beautiful form of all. And we agree that the gods are supremely happy. But no one can be happy without virtue. Virtue can’t exist without reason, and reason can’t exist anywhere except in a human form. So we have to admit that the gods have a human appearance.”

[1.49]
“Yet that appearance is not a body but something like a body, and it has not blood but something like blood. Epicurus discovered these things with more insight and stated them more precisely than just anyone can understand. Still, trusting your intelligence, I will discuss them more briefly than the subject calls for. Epicurus sees hidden and deeply concealed things not only with his mind; he handles them as if with his hand. He teaches that the gods’ power and nature are such that, first, they are perceived not by the senses but by the mind. They are not perceived as solid objects or as individual units, like the things he calls steremnia because of their solidity. Instead, they are perceived through images, through their likeness and passage. An infinite series of closely similar images arises from countless indivisible particles and flows toward the gods. Our mind fixes and fastens itself on those images with the greatest pleasure, and our understanding grasps what a happy and eternal nature is.

[1.50]
“The supreme power of infinity is well worth deep and careful thought. We must understand that its nature is such that everything has its equal counterpart, with all things balanced equally. Epicurus calls this isonomia, meaning equal distribution. From this it follows that if mortal beings are so numerous, immortal beings are no less numerous. And if the forces that destroy are countless, the forces that preserve must also be infinite.

“You Stoics, Balbus, also often ask us what the gods’ life is like, and how they spend their time.

[1.51]
“It is, of course, a life than which none happier or richer in every good thing can be imagined. A god does nothing. He is tangled in no duties and undertakes no labor. He delights in his own wisdom and virtue. He knows for certain that he will always enjoy pleasures that are both the greatest and eternal.

[1.52]
“We would rightly call this god happy, but yours extremely hard-working. If the world itself is god, what could be less restful than turning around the axis of heaven at amazing speed without a moment’s pause? But nothing can be happy without rest. Or if there is some god within the world who rules and governs it, who maintains the stars’ courses, the changing seasons, and the orderly changes of things, who watches over land and sea and protects human interests and lives—then he certainly is caught up in troublesome, demanding business.

[1.53]
“We, however, find a happy life in peace of mind and freedom from every responsibility. The man who taught us everything else also taught us that nature made the universe. There wasn’t any need for construction. You say this couldn’t be done without divine skill. But it’s so easy for nature that it will make countless universes, is making them, and has made them already. You can’t see how nature could do this without some intelligence behind it. So, like tragic playwrights who can’t work out how to end their plot, you turn to a god.”

[1.54]
“You certainly wouldn’t need his help if you could see the vast extent of space, immeasurable and without a limit in any direction. The mind throws itself into it and stretches outward, traveling far and wide. Yet it never sees a final boundary where it could stop. Through this immeasurable width, length, and depth, an endless quantity of countless atoms flies about. Even with empty space between them, they stick together. They catch hold of one another and form connected bodies. That’s how things get their shapes and outlines—shapes you don’t think can be made without bellows and anvils. So you’ve put an everlasting master over our necks, someone we’d have to fear day and night. Who wouldn’t fear a god who foresees everything, thinks about everything, notices everything, and considers everything his concern—a prying god with his hands full?”

[1.55]
“That’s where your necessity imposed by fate first came from. You call it εἱμαρμένην, or fate. You say that whatever happens has flowed from eternal truth and an unbroken chain of causes. What’s that philosophy worth? Like old women—and uneducated ones at that—it thinks everything happens by fate. Next comes your μαντικὴ, called divinatio in Latin: divination. If we were willing to listen to you, it would soak us in so much superstition that we’d have to worship entrail-readers, readers of bird omens, fortune-tellers, prophets, and dream interpreters.”

[1.56]
“Epicurus has released us from these terrors and won our freedom. We do not fear the beings whom we understand neither create trouble for themselves nor try to cause it for others. We worship their excellent, outstanding nature with devotion and reverence.

“But I fear enthusiasm has carried me on too long. It was hard to begin so great and splendid a subject and leave it unfinished. Still, I should have given more thought to listening than to speaking.”

[1.57]
Then Cotta said, with his usual friendliness, “But Velleius, if you had not said anything, you certainly could not have heard anything from me. Reasons why something is true do not usually come to my mind as easily as reasons why it is false. That has happened often, and it happened just now while I listened to you. Ask me what I say the gods’ nature is like, and perhaps I will give no answer. Ask whether I think it is like the nature you just described, and I will say nothing seems less likely to me.

“But before I tackle your arguments, I will tell you what I think of you yourself.

[1.58]
“I think I’ve often heard this about your friend Lucius Crassus: he put you unquestionably ahead of every Roman, and thought only a few Epicureans from Greece could match you. But I knew how deeply he cared for you, so I thought his affection made him more generous with his praise. Now, though I’m reluctant to praise someone to his face, I think you’ve explained a dark and difficult subject clearly. You’ve offered plenty of ideas, and your language has been more polished than your school usually manages.”

[1.59]
“When I was in Athens, I often listened to Zeno. Our friend Philo used to call him the Epicureans’ chorus leader. In fact, Philo himself urged me to listen. I suppose he wanted me to hear how the leading Epicurean presented their arguments, so I could judge more easily how well they were refuted. Unlike most of them, Zeno spoke as you do: clearly, seriously, and elegantly. But listening to you just now, I had the same feeling I often had with him. It bothered me that so much talent—please don’t take offense—had landed on such shallow ideas, not to say such silly ones.”

[1.60]
“I’m not going to offer anything better myself right now. As I just said, on almost any subject, and especially in natural philosophy, I could tell you what isn’t true more readily than what is. Suppose you ask me what a god is, or what a god is like. I’ll take Simonides as my authority. When the tyrant Hiero asked him that very question, he requested one day to think it over. Hiero asked him again the next day, and he requested two days. He kept doubling the number of days, until Hiero asked in surprise why he was doing that. ‘Because,’ he said, ‘the longer I consider it, the murkier the prospect seems to me.’ Simonides wasn’t just a delightful poet. He’s also said to have been learned and wise in other ways. I think many sharp and subtle ideas came into his mind. He couldn’t decide which was truest, and so he gave up hope of reaching any truth at all.”

[1.61]
“But your Epicurus—I’d rather argue with him than with you—what does he say that deserves to count as philosophy, or even as ordinary good sense?”

“The first question in an inquiry into the nature of the gods is whether gods exist or not. ‘It’s hard to deny it.’ I’d think so, if you were asked at a public assembly. But in a conversation like this, at an <informal> gathering, nothing could be easier. I’m a priest myself, and I think we must take the greatest care to preserve our public ceremonies and religious observances. Even so, I’d very much like to be convinced of this first point, that gods exist—not just as a matter of opinion, but as actual truth. Many things come to mind that unsettle me, so that sometimes it seems there aren’t any gods.”

[1.62]
“But look how generously I’m treating you. I won’t touch the views you share with other philosophers, including this very point. Almost everyone agrees that gods exist, and I’m certainly among them. So I’m not disputing that. Still, I don’t think the reason you offer is strong enough. You said that people of every nation and race believe it, and that this was a substantial enough argument for us to admit that gods exist. That argument is weak in itself, and its claim is false as well. For a start, how do you know what the nations think? I believe there are many peoples so brutalized by their savage way of life that they haven’t the slightest notion of gods.”

[1.63]
“What about Diagoras, who was called Atheos, ‘the atheist’? And later, Theodorus? Didn’t they openly deny that gods exist? Then there’s Protagoras of Abdera, whom you just mentioned. He was perhaps the greatest teacher of argumentative skill in his day. At the beginning of a book he wrote, ‘About the gods, I can’t say either that they exist or that they don’t.’ On the Athenians’ orders, he was expelled from their city and territory, and his books were burned at a public assembly. I think that made many people more reluctant to declare this opinion. After all, even doubt hadn’t escaped punishment. What shall we say about people who rob temples, or about the irreligious and those who swear falsely?
If Lucius Tubulus ever,

if Lupus or Carbo or Neptune’s son,
as Lucilius puts it, had believed there were gods, would he have been so ready to swear falsely or so corrupt?”

[1.64]
“So that argument is not as securely established as it seems for proving what you want. But since other philosophers also share this argument, I will leave it aside for now. I would rather come to views that belong to your school alone.

[1.65]
“I grant that gods exist. So tell me where they come from, where they are, and what they’re like in body, mind, and way of life. That’s what I want to know. You exploit the atoms’ unrestricted rule to explain everything. From them you invent and produce whatever comes your way, as the saying goes. To begin with, atoms don’t exist. There’s nothing […] that’s empty of bodies. Bodies occupy every place. So there can be no empty space, and nothing can be indivisible.”

[1.66]
“Now I’m pouring out the natural philosophers’ oracles. I don’t know whether they’re true or false, but they’re still closer to the truth [plausible] than yours. Think of those outrageous ideas of Democritus, or even of Leucippus before him. There are supposedly tiny bodies, some smooth, others rough; some round, some angular and hooked; some bent and, so to speak, hook-shaped. From these, the sky and earth came into being. Nature didn’t force them together; some chance collision did it. You’ve reached your present age still holding that opinion, Gaius Velleius. Someone would find it easier to overturn your whole way of life than to shake your loyalty to that authority. You decided you ought to be an Epicurean before you’d learned these teachings. So you had to accept these outrageous ideas or give up the name of the philosophy you’d adopted.”

[1.67]
“What reward would it take to make you stop being an Epicurean? ‘Nothing,’ you say, ‘could make me give up the principles of a happy life and the truth.’ So this is the truth? I’m not arguing about a happy life. You don’t think even a god can have one unless he languishes in complete idleness. But where’s the truth? In those countless worlds, I suppose, with some being born and others collapsing at every tiny instant? Or in indivisible little bodies that fashion such magnificent works without any direction from nature or reason? But I’ve forgotten the generosity I began showing you a little while ago, and I’m taking on too much. So I’ll grant that everything consists of indivisible bodies. What does that have to do with the question?”

[1.68]
“We’re asking about the nature of the gods. Let them be made of atoms, then. In that case, they aren’t eternal. †Because anything made of atoms came into being at some point. If the gods came into being, there weren’t any gods before they were born. And if the gods had a beginning, they must also have an end. That’s the argument you used a little while ago about Plato’s world. So what’s become of your ‘happy’ and ‘eternal,’ those two words you use to describe a god? When you try to establish that, you crawl into thickets. You were saying that a god doesn’t have a body, but something like a body; not blood, but something like blood.”

[1.69]
“You do this very often. You say something implausible, then try to escape criticism by offering something that couldn’t possibly happen at all. It would’ve been better to concede the very point in dispute than to resist so shamelessly. Take Epicurus. He saw that if atoms moved downward under their own weight, nothing would be in our power, because their movement would be fixed and necessary. So he invented a way to escape necessity—something Democritus had apparently missed. He says that as an atom moves straight downward under its weight and gravity, it swerves a little.”

[1.70]
“Saying that is more disgraceful than being unable to defend the position he wants to hold. He does the same thing against the logicians. They teach that in every either-or statement framed as ‘either yes or no,’ one alternative is true. He got frightened. Suppose he admitted a statement like ‘Either Epicurus will be alive tomorrow or he won’t.’ Then one alternative would become necessary. So he denied that the whole ‘either yes or no’ statement was necessary. What could be more dull-witted? Arcesilaus pressed Zeno hard. Arcesilaus said that every impression we get through our senses is false. Zeno said some impressions are false, but not all. Epicurus was afraid that if one impression were false, none would be true. So he declared that all the senses report the truth. None of this is anything but †very; he was accepting a heavier blow to ward off a lighter one.”

[1.71]
“He does the same thing about the gods’ nature. He wants to avoid making them a collection of indivisible particles, because destruction and dispersal would follow. So he says the gods don’t have a body, but something like a body; they don’t have blood, but something like blood. People find it amazing that a priest who reads entrails doesn’t laugh when he sees another such priest. Is that more amazing than <the fact that> you can keep from laughing among yourselves? ‘It isn’t a body, but something like a body.’ I could understand what that meant if we were talking about figures modeled in wax or clay. But I can’t understand what something like a body or something like blood means in a god. Neither can you, Velleius. You just won’t admit it.”

[1.72]
“You repeat these things as though you’d learned them from dictation. They’re things Epicurus dreamed up while yawning. Yet he boasted, as we see in his writings, that he’d never had a teacher. I’d readily believe that even if he didn’t announce it. I’d also believe the owner of a badly built house who boasted that he hadn’t used an architect. There’s no smell of the Academy in his work, or [even] the Lyceum, or even the things children learn at school. He could’ve studied under Xenocrates—and what a man Xenocrates was, immortal gods! Some people think he did. He himself denies it. I believe him more than anyone on that point. He says he attended the lectures of a certain Pamphilus, a student of Plato, on Samos. He lived there as a young man with his father and brothers. His father Neocles had gone there to acquire farmland. But the little farm apparently couldn’t support him well enough, so he became a schoolteacher.”

[1.73]
“But Epicurus treats this follower of Plato with extraordinary contempt. He’s that afraid of seeming ever to have learned anything. With Nausiphanes, the follower of Democritus, he can’t get out of it. He doesn’t deny studying under him, but he still heaps every insult on him. Yet if he hadn’t heard these teachings of Democritus, what had he heard? What is there in Epicurus’ account of nature that doesn’t come from Democritus? He did change a few things, such as the swerve of the atoms I mentioned a little earlier. But most of what he says is the same: atoms, empty space, images, limitless space, countless worlds, their beginnings and endings—nearly everything that makes up his explanation of nature.”

“Now, what do you mean by that ‘something like a body’ and ‘something like blood’?”

[1.74]
“I don’t just admit that you understand these matters better than I do. I’m quite happy to let you. But once they’ve been stated, what can Velleius understand that Cotta can’t? I understand what a body is and what blood is. But I have absolutely no idea what something like a body or something like blood is. You aren’t hiding things from me, as Pythagoras used to hide them from outsiders. You aren’t deliberately speaking obscurely, like Heraclitus. But, just between us, you don’t understand them yourself.”

[1.75]
“I see that you are struggling to establish some appearance of gods that has nothing compact or solid, nothing in relief or projecting, but is pure, smooth, and transparent. Then we shall say the same as we say about the Venus of Cos: that is not a body, but something resembling a body; that spreading blush mingled with white is not blood, but something resembling blood. So in the Epicurean god there are no actual things, only likenesses of things.

“Suppose I am convinced of something I cannot even understand. Come, give me the features and shapes of those shadowy gods of yours.

[1.76]
“You have no shortage of arguments here to try to prove that the gods have human forms. First, you say this has been pictured and anticipated in our minds, so that when someone thinks of a god, a human shape comes to mind. Second, since divine nature surpasses everything, it must also have the most beautiful shape, and none is more beautiful than the human one. You add a third reason: that a mind can have its home in no other shape.

[1.77]
“First, then, consider each point and what it amounts to. You seem to me to grab hold of something utterly implausible as though it were yours by right.”

“<First> of all, has anyone ever been so blind in looking at the world that he couldn’t see how those human shapes got assigned to the gods? Either wise people deliberately introduced them to turn the ignorant away from corrupt lives and make it easier to lead them to worship the gods, or superstition did it. People wanted images they could worship and believe they were approaching the gods themselves. Poets, painters, and craftsmen developed these same ideas further. It wasn’t easy to show gods doing things and carrying out projects while keeping their shapes modeled on other creatures.”

“Perhaps this belief also took hold because nothing looks more beautiful to a human being than another human being. But as a student of nature, don’t you see how nature wins us over with flattery, almost acting as her own pimp? Do you think there’s any animal on land or sea that doesn’t take the greatest pleasure in an animal of its own kind? If that weren’t so, why wouldn’t a bull get excited by contact with a mare, or a horse by contact with a cow? Do you think an eagle, a lion, or a dolphin prefers any shape to its own? Then why be surprised if nature has given humans the same rule, making them think nothing is more beautiful than a human being? […] that this is why we thought the gods looked like human beings. What do you think? If animals could reason, wouldn’t each kind have rated its own kind highest?”

[1.78]
“But, by Hercules, I’ll tell you what I think. Much as I love myself, I still wouldn’t dare say I’m more beautiful than that bull that carried Europa. We aren’t discussing our intelligence or our powers of speech here. We’re discussing appearance and shape. Suppose we wanted to invent shapes and join them together, like the pictures of Triton of the sea, carried along by swimming beasts attached to a human body. You wouldn’t want to be like that. I’m in a difficult position. Nature’s influence is so strong that no human wants to look like anything but a human—and no ant like anything but an ant.”

[1.79]
“But which human? How many people are good-looking? When I was at Athens, you could barely find one here and there among whole groups of young men. I see what made you smile, but that’s still how it is. Besides, those of us who are attracted to young men, with the ancient philosophers’ approval, often find even their flaws appealing. Alcaeus is delighted by a mole on a boy’s joint. Now, a mole is a blemish on the body. To him, though, it seemed a bright spot. Quintus Catulus, the father of our colleague and friend here, loved Roscius, your fellow townsman. He even wrote these lines about him:
I happened to be standing there, greeting Aurora as she rose,

when suddenly Roscius rose on my left.

“Heavenly gods, let me say this without offending you:

a mortal seemed more beautiful than a god.
To Catulus, Roscius was more beautiful than a god. Yet his eyes were terribly crossed, just as they are today. What does that matter, if Catulus found that very feature charming and attractive?”

[1.80]
“Back to the gods. Do we think any of them are, if not badly cross-eyed, at least a little so? Do any have a mole? Do any have snub noses, drooping ears, big foreheads, or big heads, as we do? Or are they all free of defects? Let’s grant you that. But do they all have the same face too? If they have different faces, one must be more beautiful than another. So some god isn’t the most beautiful. If they all have the same face, the Academy must be flourishing in heaven. If there’s no difference between one god and another, the gods can’t know anything or be sure of what they perceive.”

[1.81]
“What if that claim is completely false too, Velleius—the claim that when we think about a god, no shape comes to mind except a human one? Will you still defend these absurd ideas? Perhaps we do picture gods as you say. From childhood we’ve known Jupiter, Juno, Minerva, Neptune, Vulcan, Apollo, and the other gods with whatever appearance painters and sculptors chose to give them. And not just their faces: their accessories, ages, and clothes too. But that isn’t true of the Egyptians, the Syrians, or nearly all the rest of the foreign world. You’d find that their convictions about certain animals are stronger than ours about our most sacred temples and statues of the gods.”

[1.82]
“We see plenty of shrines plundered by our people, and statues of the gods carried off from the holiest places. But we’ve never even heard of an Egyptian harming a crocodile, an ibis, or a cat. What do you think, then? Don’t the Egyptians regard Apis, their sacred bull, as a god? By Hercules, just as surely as you regard that Sospita of yours as one. You never see her, even in your dreams, without her goatskin, spear, little shield, and little shoes with turned-up toes. But the Juno of Argos isn’t like that, nor is the Juno of Rome. So Juno has one appearance for the people of Argos and another for the people of Lanuvium. Likewise, Jupiter of the Capitol has one appearance for us, and Jupiter Ammon another for the Africans.”

[1.83]
“Should a natural philosopher—that is, an observer and tracker of nature—not be ashamed to seek evidence of truth from minds steeped in custom? On that basis we may say Jupiter is always bearded and Apollo always beardless, Minerva has gray eyes and Neptune blue ones. We praise the Vulcan at Athens made by Alcamenes. He stands clothed, and his slight limp is visible without being ugly. Shall we then count the god as lame because that is the story we have received about Vulcan? And come, shall we also make the gods bear the very names we call them by?

[1.84]
“But to start with, the gods have as many different names as people have languages. You’re Velleius wherever you go. But Vulcan doesn’t have the same name in Italy, Africa, and Spain. Besides, even our priests’ records don’t contain many divine names, while the gods themselves are beyond counting. Do they have no names? That’s what your position forces you to say. After all, if they all look alike, what’s the point of having different names? Velleius, wouldn’t it have been much better to admit you didn’t know what you didn’t know? Instead, you babble this stuff, make yourself sick, and end up disgusted with yourself. Do you think a god looks like me, or like you? Of course you don’t.”

“What then? Am I supposed to call the sun, the moon, or the sky a god? Then it must be happy too. What pleasures does it enjoy? And it must be wise. How can a block like that have wisdom?”

[1.85]
“That’s your school’s argument. So if gods don’t have human form […], as I’ve shown, or any form like those, as you’re convinced, why hesitate to deny that gods exist? You don’t dare. That’s sensible enough, though here it isn’t the public you’re afraid of. It’s the gods themselves. I know Epicureans who bow before every little idol. Still, I see that some people think Epicurus kept the gods in words but did away with them in reality, so he wouldn’t offend the Athenians. That’s why, in that selection of short sayings you call κυρίαι δόξαι, or ‘Principal Doctrines,’ the first saying is, I think: ‘What’s happy and immortal neither has troubles itself nor causes trouble for anyone else.’ Some people think he deliberately put it that way. In fact, he simply didn’t know how to express himself clearly.”

[1.86]
“They’re judging a man who wasn’t at all crafty unfairly. His wording leaves it uncertain whether he means that something happy and immortal exists, or that anything of that kind, if it exists, has those qualities. They fail to notice that although he spoke ambiguously here, in many other passages both he and Metrodorus spoke as openly as you did just now. He certainly thinks gods exist. And I’ve never seen anyone more afraid of the things he says we shouldn’t fear—I mean death and the gods. Ordinary people aren’t very disturbed by them. Yet he shouts that they’ve terrified the minds of every mortal alive. So many thousands carry on as bandits with death hanging over them. Others loot every temple they can. I suppose the first lot are terrified of death, and the second of offending the gods!

“But since you don’t dare deny that gods exist—I’m talking to Epicurus himself now—what keeps you from counting the sun, the universe, or some eternal mind among the gods?”

[1.87]
“He says, ‘I’ve never seen a soul with reason and judgment in any shape except a human one.’ Well, have you ever seen anything like the sun, the moon, or the five wandering stars? The sun’s motion is bounded by the two extreme points of a single circuit, and it completes its rounds year by year. The moon, lit by that same sun’s rays, covers this circuit in a month. The five stars follow the same circle, some closer to the earth and others farther away. They start from the same points and cover the same distances, but take different lengths of time. Have you ever seen anything like that, Epicurus?”

[1.88]
“Then let’s say there’s no sun, no moon, and no stars, since nothing can exist unless we’ve touched it or seen it. What about god himself? Have you seen him? Why believe he exists, then? Let’s reject everything new that either reports of events or reasoning bring to our attention. On that basis, people living inland wouldn’t believe there’s a sea. What a cramped mind! Suppose you’d been born on Seriphus and never left the island. You’d have often seen little hares and foxes there. But when someone described lions and panthers to you, you wouldn’t believe they existed. And if someone told you about an elephant, you’d think they were making fun of you.”

[1.89]
“And you, Velleius, didn’t follow your own school’s usual practice. You used the <tight confines> of an argument to pin down your conclusion, as the dialecticians do—though your whole school knows nothing whatever about their methods. You assumed that the gods are happy. We grant that. Then you said no one can be happy without virtue. We grant that too, and gladly. Next, virtue can’t exist without reason. We have to agree to that as well. Then you add that reason can exist only in a human shape. Who do you think will grant you that? If it were true, why did you need to reach it step by step? You’d have been entitled to assume it. And what’s this talk of proceeding step by step? I can see your steps from happiness to virtue, and from virtue to reason. But how do you get from reason to human shape? That’s not stepping down. It’s falling headfirst.”

[1.90]
“I also don’t understand why Epicurus preferred to say that gods resemble human beings rather than that human beings resemble gods. You’ll ask what difference it makes: if this resembles that, then that resembles this. I understand. But my point is that the gods didn’t get their bodily shape from human beings. The gods have always existed. They were never born, if they really are going to exist forever. Human beings, though, were born. So the human shape existed before human beings did, and the immortal gods had that shape. We shouldn’t say, then, that their shape is human. We should say that ours is divine.”

“But have it your way on that point. What I want to know is how chance could’ve been so fortunate—for you hold that nothing in nature

[1.91]
is made by reason. Still, what enormous chance was it, what source of so fortunate a meeting of atoms, that humans were suddenly born with the gods’ form? Do we suppose the gods’ seed fell from heaven to earth, and humans emerged resembling their fathers? I wish you said so. I would gladly recognize our kinship with the gods. You say nothing of the kind. You say it happened by chance that we resemble gods. And now we are supposed to look for arguments to refute this! If only I could find the truth as easily as I can expose falsehood.

“You listed the philosophers’ views of the gods’ nature from Thales of Miletus onward, from memory and in great detail. It made me marvel at such learning in a Roman.

[1.92]
“Did you think everyone who held that a god could exist without hands and feet was talking nonsense?”

“When you consider how useful people’s limbs are, and how well they suit their purposes, doesn’t even that lead you to see that gods don’t need human limbs? What’s the point of feet if you don’t walk, or hands if there’s nothing to grasp? And what about the whole arrangement of the other parts of the body? Nothing in it is pointless, nothing lacks a reason, and nothing’s unnecessary. No human skill can match nature’s ingenuity. So will a god have a tongue and never speak? Will he have teeth, a palate, and a throat that serve no purpose? Will the parts nature attached to the body for reproduction be useless to a god? That goes for the internal organs as much as the external ones: the heart, lungs, liver, and the rest. Take away their usefulness, and what’s attractive about them? After all, you insist that a god has them for their beauty.”

[1.93]
“Was it confidence in dreams like these that led not just Epicurus, Metrodorus, and Hermarchus to attack Pythagoras, Plato, and Empedocles, but even that little prostitute Leontium to dare to write against Theophrastus? Her language was polished and thoroughly Attic, to be sure. But still! That’s how much license there was in Epicurus’s Garden. And you people regularly complain about others! Zeno even used to start fights. Why mention Albucius? As for Phaedrus, no one could’ve been more refined or kinder. But the old man would get angry if I said anything a little sharp. Yet Epicurus heaped the most insulting abuse on Aristotle. He spoke disgustingly of Phaedo, Socrates’ follower. He filled whole books with attacks on Timocrates, the brother of his companion Metrodorus, because Timocrates disagreed with him about some point of philosophy or other. He was ungrateful to Democritus himself, whose teachings he followed. And he treated his own teacher Nausiphanes appallingly, though he’d learned <not> nothing from him. Zeno didn’t just fire insults at people of his own time—Apollodorus Sillis and the others. He even called Socrates himself, the father of philosophy, ‘an Athenian clown,’ using the Latin word for ‘clown.’ And he never called Chrysippus anything but the feminine ‘Chrysippa.’”

[1.94]
“Just now, you yourself ran through what sounded like a senate of philosophers. You said those outstanding men were foolish, raving, and insane. If none of them saw the truth about the gods’ nature, we have reason to worry that there’s no such nature at all.

“What you people say is entirely made up. It hardly deserves to be something old women dream up over their lamps at night. You don’t realize how much you’ll have to accept if you get us to agree that gods and human beings have the same shape. A god will need all the same bodily care and attention as a human being. He’ll have to walk, run, recline, bend, sit, grasp things, and finally even converse and speak.”

[1.95]
“For you say there are both male and female gods, and you see what follows. I cannot marvel enough at how that founder of yours arrived at these beliefs.

“But you never stop shouting that we must hold to this: a god is happy and immortal. What stops him from being happy if he does not have two feet? Whether we should call it beatitas or beatitudo—both Latin words for happiness are certainly awkward, but usage must soften our words—whatever we call it, why can it not belong to that sun, this world, or some eternal mind without a bodily shape or limbs?

[1.96]
“You’re only saying, ‘I’ve never seen a happy sun or a happy universe.’ Have you ever seen any universe besides this one? You’ll say no. Then how did you dare to say there are not six hundred thousand universes, but infinitely many? ‘Reason taught me.’ Won’t reason teach you this too? We’re looking for the finest possible nature, one that’s happy and eternal. That alone is a divine nature. Just as it surpasses us in immortality, it must surpass us in mental excellence—and in bodily excellence as well. So why should we match the gods in shape when we’re inferior in everything else? Human excellence came closer to resembling the gods than the human figure did.”

[1.97]
“Let me press the same point a little longer. Could anything be more childish than denying that certain kinds of animals exist because they’re born in the Red Sea or India? Even the most curious people can’t ask around and hear about all the creatures that live on land, in the sea, in marshes, and in rivers. Should we deny that they exist because we’ve never seen them?

“And that resemblance you’re so fond of really has nothing to do with the issue. Doesn’t a dog look like a wolf? And, as Ennius says, ‘How much the ape, that ugly beast, resembles us!’ But their behavior is different. No animal has more sense than an elephant.”

[1.98]
“But what animal has a huger shape? I am speaking of animals. What about humans themselves? Do we not find different characters in people with very similar forms, and different shapes in people with the same character?

“For once we accept this kind of argument, Velleius, notice how far it spreads. You assumed reason could exist only in a human form. Someone else will assume it can exist only in an earthly being; only in one that was born; only in one that grew up; only in one that learned; only in one made of a soul and a weak, perishable body; in short, only in a mortal human. If you resist all these claims, why are you troubled by shape alone? You saw reason and mind in humans accompanied by all the things I have listed. Yet with these removed, you say you still recognize a god, provided the outlines remain. That is not considering what to say, but almost drawing it by lot.

[1.99]
“Perhaps you don’t even notice this: anything unnecessary or useless gets in the way, not just in a human being but even in a tree. What a nuisance it is to have one extra finger! Why? Because the five don’t need another one, either for looks or for use. But your god has much more than one extra finger. His head, neck, the back of his neck, sides, belly, back, the backs of his knees, hands, feet, thighs, and lower legs are all unnecessary. If they’re meant to make him immortal, what do these body parts contribute to keeping him alive? What does his face itself contribute? The brain, heart, lungs, and liver matter more: they’re where life is housed. The shape of the face does nothing to keep life secure.”

[1.100]
“And you criticized people who looked at magnificent, splendid works and suspected that some outstanding, superior being had made them and kept them moving, directing and governing them. They’d seen the universe itself and its parts—the sky, land, and seas. They’d seen their most striking features: the sun, moon, and stars. They’d observed the seasons reaching their fullness, changing, and coming round again. Even if their guess is wrong, I can at least see what leads them to it. But what great, remarkable work can you point to that looks like the product of a divine mind and leads you to suspect that gods exist? ‘I had a certain conception of a god planted in my mind,’ you say. Yes, of a bearded Jupiter and a helmeted Minerva. Do you really think they look like that?”

[1.101]
“How much better ordinary, uneducated people handle this! They give a god not just human body parts, but uses for those parts too. They give him a bow, arrows, a spear, a shield, a trident, a thunderbolt. Even if they can’t see what the gods actually do, they still can’t imagine a god doing nothing. Even the Egyptians, who get laughed at, never made an animal sacred unless they got some benefit from it. Take ibises. They destroy huge numbers of snakes. They’re tall birds with stiff legs and long beaks made of horn. They keep a plague out of Egypt by killing and eating the winged snakes that the southwest wind blows in from Libya’s wastelands. That way, the snakes can’t hurt people with their bites while alive or with their smell when dead. I could discuss the usefulness of mongooses, crocodiles, and cats, but I don’t want to go on too long. I’ll finish with this: at least those foreign peoples made animals sacred because they did some good. Your gods haven’t just failed to do any good. They haven’t done anything at all.”

[1.102]
“‘He has no business to attend to,’ he says. Clearly Epicurus, like spoiled children, thinks nothing better than doing nothing. But even children, when free from work, enjoy some active play. Do we want a god on such a permanent holiday that he is numb with idleness, and we fear that if he stirs himself he may be unable to stay happy? This argument not only strips the gods of divine movement and action. It also makes people lazy, if not even a god can be happy while doing something.

[1.103]
“But let the god be a human likeness and image, as you wish. What is his home, his dwelling, his location? How does he spend his life? By what means is he happy, as you want him to be? Anyone who is to be happy must use and enjoy his good things. Even the lifeless elements each have their own proper place. Earth holds the lowest, water floods over it, the next higher place belongs to air, and the highest region is assigned to the fires of aether. Among animals, some live on land, some in water, and some live a double life in both places. Some are even thought to be born in fire and are often seen flying about in burning furnaces.

[1.104]
“So I ask first where your god lives. Next, what makes him move from his place, if he ever does move? Then, since living creatures characteristically seek something suited to their nature, what does a god seek? For what purpose does he use the movement of mind and reason? Finally, how is he happy, and how is he eternal? Touch any one of these points and you touch a sore. Your theory is so badly set up that it cannot find a way out.

[1.105]
“This is what you were saying: we grasp a god’s appearance through thought, not through our senses. There’s nothing solid about it, and it doesn’t remain one and the same individual thing. We see it through the resemblance of images passing in succession. Similar images never stop arriving from the infinite supply of bodies. Our minds focus on these, and that’s why we think this nature is happy and everlasting. By the very gods we’re discussing, what sort of account is that? If these images only affect our thoughts and have no solidity or depth, what difference does it make whether we’re thinking about a centaur or a god? Other philosophers call every such mental picture an empty stirring of the mind. You call it the arrival of images in our minds and their entry into them.”

[1.106]
“For example, when I seem to see Tiberius Gracchus addressing the people on the Capitol and bringing out the voting urn for the decision about Marcus Octavius, I call that an empty movement of my mind. You say images of Gracchus and Octavius remain, and after reaching the Capitol are carried back to my mind. You say the same happens with a god: repeated appearances of his face strike our minds, and from this we understand that gods are happy and eternal.

[1.107]
“Suppose there are images that strike our minds. All that’s presented is some sort of appearance. Does it also show us why that being is happy or why it’s eternal?

“And what are these images of yours? Where do they come from? This license certainly started with Democritus. But plenty of people criticized him too, and you can’t find a way out. The whole theory wobbles and limps. What could be harder to accept than the claim that images of everyone reach me—Homer, Archilochus, Romulus, Numa, Pythagoras, Plato—and not even looking as those people actually did? How can the images be theirs, then? And whose images are they in some cases? Aristotle tells us that the poet Orpheus never existed. They say this Orphic poem was the work of a certain Pythagorean named Cercon. Yet Orpheus—or his image, as you’d have it—often enters my mind.”

[1.108]
“What about different images of the same person reaching me and reaching you? What about images of things that never existed at all and couldn’t exist, like Scylla or the Chimaera? What about images of people, places, and cities we’ve never seen? What about an image being there as soon as I feel like having it? What about their coming uninvited even when I’m asleep? The whole thing is nonsense, Velleius. You force these images not just on our eyes but on our minds too. That’s how freely you can chatter without being called to account. And what reckless freedom it is!”

[1.109]
“‘Images stream past in such quick succession that many look like one.’ I’d be embarrassed to say I don’t understand if you people who defend this understood it yourselves. How do you prove that images keep arriving without a break? And even if they do, how do you prove they’ll do so forever? ‘The infinite number of atoms keeps up the supply,’ comes the reply. Is that same infinity going to make everything last forever, then? You fall back on equal balance—let’s use that, if you like, for ἰσονομίαν. You say that since mortal beings exist, immortal ones must exist too. By that reasoning, since people are mortal, some people must be immortal. And since people are born on land, they must be born in water too. ‘And because there are things that destroy, there must be things that preserve.’ Fine, let there be. But let them preserve things that exist. I don’t recognize the existence of those gods of yours.”

[1.110]
“Still, how does this whole image of things arise from indivisible bodies? Even if these existed, though they do not, they might perhaps strike themselves and be set in motion by colliding with each other. They could not form, shape, color, or bring things to life. So you do not establish an immortal god in any way.

“Now let us look at happiness. Certainly it cannot exist without virtue. But virtue is active, while your god does nothing. So he has no virtue.

[1.111]
“So he isn’t happy either. What sort of life does he have, then? ‘A supply of good things,’ you say, ‘with nothing bad getting in the way.’ What good things, exactly? Pleasures, I suppose—bodily ones, of course. You don’t recognize any mental pleasure except one that starts in the body and comes back to it. I don’t suppose you want to be like the rest of the Epicureans, who’re embarrassed by some of Epicurus’s statements. In those statements he declares that he <can’t> even conceive of anything good apart from luxurious and obscene pleasures. And he runs through every one of them by name without a blush.”

[1.112]
“So what food or drinks will you give the gods? What different sounds or flowers? What sensations of touch, what smells, will you provide to drench them in pleasure? The poets at least prepare feasts of nectar and ambrosia, with either Juventas or Ganymede serving drinks. But what will you do, Epicurus? I can’t see where your god would get these things or how he’d use them. So by nature, humans are better equipped than gods for a happy life, since they enjoy more kinds of pleasure.”

[1.113]
“But you think less of pleasures that give our senses a kind of ‘tickling’—that’s Epicurus’s own word. How long will you keep playing games? Even our friend Philo couldn’t stand the Epicureans’ dismissing gentle, delicate pleasures. He had an extraordinary memory. He’d quote a great many of Epicurus’s statements exactly as they’d been written. He’d also recite many even more shameless passages from Metrodorus, Epicurus’s fellow sage. Metrodorus criticizes his brother Timocrates for hesitating to measure everything that contributes to a happy life by the stomach. And he doesn’t say this just once, but repeatedly. I see you nodding. You know these passages. If you denied it, I’d bring out the books. I’m not now criticizing the idea that pleasure should be the standard for everything. That’s a separate question. I’m showing that your gods have no pleasure. So even by your own standards, they aren’t happy. ‘But they’re free from pain.’”

[1.114]
“Is that enough for the happiest possible life, overflowing with good things? ‘He’s constantly thinking about how happy he is,’ they say. ‘There’s nothing else for him to turn over in his mind.’ So picture this god. Set him before your eyes, spending all eternity thinking nothing but ‘I’m doing wonderfully’ and ‘I’m happy.’ Still, I don’t see how this happy god can avoid fearing destruction. Atoms constantly collide with him, battering and shaking him without a moment’s break, while images constantly flow away from his own being. So your god is neither happy nor eternal.”

[1.115]
“‘But Epicurus even wrote books about holiness and religious duty toward the gods.’ Yes, but listen to how he speaks in them! You’d think you were hearing <Tiberius> Coruncanius or Publius Scaevola, those chief priests. You wouldn’t think this was the man who’d uprooted all religion and demolished the immortal gods’ temples and altars—not with his hands, like Xerxes, but with arguments. Why say that people should worship the gods, when the gods don’t look after people and, in fact, don’t care about anything or do anything at all?”

[1.116]
“‘But their nature is so exceptional and outstanding that it should, all by itself, draw a wise person to worship it.’ Can there be anything exceptional about a nature that enjoys its own pleasure but has never done anything, does nothing now, and will never do anything? And what religious duty do you owe someone from whom you’ve received nothing? What can you owe anyone who’s done nothing to deserve it? Religious duty is justice toward the gods. But what claims can there be between us and them when human beings have no shared bond with a god? Holiness, in turn, means knowing how to worship the gods. I don’t understand why we should worship them if we’ve received no good from them and expect none.”

[1.117]
“And why should we worship the gods out of admiration for their nature, when we see nothing remarkable in it?”

“It’s easy enough to free people from superstition, as you like to boast you do, once you’ve stripped the gods of all power. Unless perhaps you think Diagoras or Theodorus could have been superstitious, when they denied that gods existed at all. I don’t think even Protagoras could have been. He couldn’t say either that gods exist or that they don’t. All these views remove more than superstition, which involves an empty fear of the gods. They also remove religion, which consists in worshiping the gods with devotion.”

[1.118]
“What about those who said the whole belief in immortal gods was invented by wise people for the state’s sake, so that religion would lead to duty those whom reason could not lead? Did they not uproot all religion? And Prodicus of Ceos, who said the things that benefited human life were counted among the gods—what religion did he leave, after all?

[1.119]
“What about those who say that brave, famous, or powerful men became gods after death, and that these are the very gods we regularly worship, pray to, and honor? Aren’t they doing without religion altogether? Euhemerus developed this account more than anyone else. Our own Ennius translated him and followed him especially closely. But Euhemerus points out where the gods died and were buried. Does he seem to have strengthened religion, then, or to have completely destroyed it? I won’t discuss holy, awe-inspiring Eleusis, ‘where peoples from the farthest shores are initiated.’ I’ll pass over Samothrace and the rites on Lemnos, ‘celebrated in secret, entered at night, amid thick woodland hedges.’ Once you explain these things and give a rational account of them, you learn more about the nature of things than about the gods.”

[1.120]
“Even Democritus, one of the greatest men, seems to me uncertain about the nature of the gods. Epicurus watered his little gardens from that man’s springs. At one point Democritus thinks there are images with divine powers in the universe. At another, he says the basic elements of mind, which exist in that same universe, are gods. Then he calls them living images that regularly help or harm us. Then they’re enormous images, so vast that they surround the whole world from outside. All these ideas suit Democritus’s hometown better than Democritus himself.”

[1.121]
“Who can get their mind around images like those? Who can admire them? Who can think they deserve worship or religious devotion?”

“Epicurus, though, tore religion out of people’s minds by the roots when he denied the immortal gods both the ability to help and goodwill. He says a god’s nature is the best and most outstanding there is. Yet he also denies that a god has goodwill. He removes the very quality that most belongs to the best and most outstanding nature. What’s better or more outstanding than goodness and generosity? You insist that a god lacks these. That means no one, whether god or human, is dear to a god. No one is loved by him; no one has his affection. The result is that the gods neglect not just human beings, but one another as well. How much better the Stoics do—the people you criticize! They think wise people are friends with other wise people even if they don’t know them. Nothing’s more lovable than virtue. Anyone who’s gained it will have our affection, wherever in the world they may be.”

[1.122]
“But what a harmful idea you’re offering when you base favors and goodwill <on> weakness! Let’s set aside the gods’ power and nature. Do you really think that even human beings would never have been generous or kind unless they’d been weak? Isn’t there any natural affection between good people? The very word *carum*, ‘dear,’ expresses *amor*, ‘love.’ And *amor* is where the Latin word *amicitia*, ‘friendship,’ gets its name. If we direct friendship toward our own profit rather than the benefit of the person we love, it won’t be friendship. It’ll be a kind of trading for our own advantage. That’s how we value meadows, fields, and herds of livestock: for what we get from them. But affection and friendship between people ask for nothing in return. How much more must that be true of the gods! They need nothing, yet they love one another and look after human beings. If that’s not so, why do we worship the gods? Why do we pray to them? Why do pontiffs oversee sacred rites and augurs oversee the watching for divine signs? What do we ask the immortal gods for? What do we promise them in our vows? ‘But Epicurus even wrote a book about holiness.’”

[1.123]
“We are being mocked by a man who is less witty than he is unrestrained in what he writes. What reverence can there be if gods do not care about human affairs? And what living nature can care about nothing? Surely, then, the truer view is what our common friend Posidonius argued in the fifth book of his On the Nature of the Gods: Epicurus thinks there are no gods, and said what he did about immortal gods to ward off public resentment. He would not have been so foolish as to invent a god resembling a little man only in his outer outlines, not in solid substance; equipped with every human limb, but without even the slightest use for his limbs; thin and transparent; giving nothing to anyone and showing no favor; caring about absolutely nothing and doing nothing. First, such a nature cannot exist at all. Epicurus sees this and removes the gods in fact while leaving them in words.

[1.124]
“Then, even if a god really is just as you say, with no goodwill or love for people to move him, goodbye to him! Why should I say, ‘May he look kindly on us’? He can’t look kindly on anyone, since, as you say, all goodwill and love come from weakness.”

### Book 2

[2.1]
When Cotta finished, Velleius said, “I really was careless to take on someone who belongs to the Academy and is also a trained speaker. An Academic who couldn’t speak well wouldn’t have frightened me. Neither would a speaker, however eloquent, without that philosophy. A flood of empty words doesn’t upset me, nor does a subtle argument presented in a dry style. But you, Cotta, were strong on both sides. All you lacked was a crowd and a jury. Still, we can return to that another time. Now let’s hear Lucilius, if it suits him.”

[2.2]
Then Balbus said, “I’d rather hear more from Cotta himself, provided he brings in the real gods with the same eloquence he used to get rid of the false ones. A philosopher, a priest, and a man like Cotta should have a firm, certain view of the immortal gods, as our school does—not a shifting, unsettled view like the Academics. You’ve said enough against Epicurus, and more than enough. But what I’m eager to hear, Cotta, is what you yourself think.”

“Have you forgotten what I said at the start?” Cotta replied. “It’s easier for me to say what I don’t think than what I do, especially on subjects like these. Even if I had reached a clear conclusion, I’d still want to hear from you in turn, after saying so much myself.”

[2.3]
Then Balbus said, “I’ll do as you ask and keep it as brief as I can. Now that Epicurus’s errors have been exposed, there’s a long stretch of argument I can leave out. Our school divides this whole inquiry about the immortal gods into four parts. First, they show that gods exist. Next, they explain what the gods are like. Then they show that the gods govern the universe. Finally, they show that the gods look after human affairs. Let’s take the first two in this discussion. The third and fourth are bigger subjects, so I think we should leave them for another time.”

“Certainly not,” said Cotta. “We’ve got the time, and these subjects deserve to come before even our business.”

[2.4]
Then Lucilius said, “The first part hardly seems to need an argument. When we look up at the sky and study the heavenly bodies, what could be plainer or clearer than that some supremely intelligent divine power governs them? If that weren’t so, how could Ennius have said, with everyone’s agreement, ‘Look at this shining expanse above, whom everyone calls on as Jupiter’? Yes, Jupiter—the ruler of everything, who governs it all through motion. As Ennius also calls him, ‘father of gods and men’: a god present among us and supreme in power. If someone doubts that, I really don’t see why he couldn’t also doubt whether the sun exists or not;”

[2.5]
“Why is the one clearer than the other? Unless our minds had recognized and firmly grasped this, the belief wouldn’t have stayed so steady. Time wouldn’t have strengthened it, and it couldn’t have grown old along with the generations and ages of humanity. We see that other beliefs, made up and empty, have faded away over time. Who believes there ever was a centaur or a Chimaera? Can we find any old woman so foolish that she fears those horrors in the underworld that people once believed in? Time wipes out what people invent but confirms what nature tells us.

[2.6]
“So, among our people and among others, worship of the gods and sacred religious observances keep growing and improving day by day. This doesn’t happen at random or by chance. The gods themselves often appear and show their power. At Regillus, during the war with the Latins, the dictator A. Postumius was fighting Octavius Mamilius of Tusculum. Castor and Pollux were seen fighting on horseback in our ranks. In more recent memory, those same sons of Tyndareus announced that Perseus had been defeated. P. Vatinius, the grandfather of the young man here, was traveling to Rome from the prefecture of Reate. At night, two young men with white horses told him that King Perseus had been captured that day; <when> he reported this to the senate, he was first thrown in prison for supposedly making a reckless statement about public affairs. Later, a letter arrived from Paulus and confirmed the same date. The senate then rewarded Vatinius with land and exemption from military service. It’s also recorded that when the Locrians defeated the people of Croton in a great battle at the river Sagra, news of that battle reached the games at Olympia that very day. The voices of Fauns have often been heard, and the forms of gods have often been seen. These have forced anyone who wasn’t dull-witted or irreverent to admit that the gods were present.”

[2.7]
“What else do predictions and foreknowledge of the future show? They show that coming events are pointed out, displayed, foreshadowed, and foretold to human beings. That gives the Latin names ostenta, monstra, portenta, and prodigia: from ostendi, ‘be pointed out,’ monstrari, ‘be displayed,’ portendi, ‘be foreshadowed,’ and praedici, ‘be foretold.’ Suppose we think that stories have freely invented Mopsus, Tiresias, Amphiaraus, Calchas, and Helenus. Yet even the stories wouldn’t have taken them in as prophets if the facts had ruled prophecy out altogether. Won’t examples from our own country teach us to recognize the gods’ power? Will we learn nothing from Publius Clodius’s reckless conduct in the First Punic War? He made a joke of mocking the gods. When the sacred chickens were let out of their cage and wouldn’t eat, he ordered them thrown into the water, so that they could drink, since they wouldn’t eat. The defeat of his fleet turned that joke into many tears for him and a great disaster for the Roman people. And didn’t his colleague Lucius Junius lose his fleet in a storm in the same war, after disregarding the auspices? Clodius was therefore convicted by the people, and Junius killed himself.

[2.8]
“Coelius writes that C. Flaminius fell at Trasimene because he ignored religious obligations, and that the republic suffered a terrible blow with him. Their destruction helps us see that the republic grew under the commands of men who obeyed religious requirements. And if we want to compare ourselves with foreign peoples, we’ll find that in other respects we’re their equals or even their inferiors. But in religion—that is, worship of the gods—we’re far ahead.”

[2.9]
“Should we dismiss that curved staff of Attus Navius, with which he marked off the parts of a vineyard to search for a pig? I might think so, if King Hostilius hadn’t fought great wars under his guidance as an augur. But the nobles’ carelessness has let the study of augury fall away. The reality of the auspices has been rejected, and only the outward appearance remains. So the most important business of the state, including the wars on which its safety depends, is carried on without auspices. No signs at river crossings are observed, nor any from spear points. No men are summoned, and that has put an end to wills made before battle. Our commanders now begin to wage war only after giving up their auspices.

[2.10]
“But among our ancestors religion had such force that some commanders even covered their heads and used a set form of words to devote their own lives to the immortal gods for the state. I could recall many Sibylline prophecies and many answers given by readers of sacrificial entrails to confirm things no one should doubt. An actual event proved the skill both of our augurs and of the Etruscan readers of entrails, when Publius Scipio and Gaius Figulus became consuls. Tiberius Gracchus, in his second consulship, was conducting their election. The first voting officer suddenly died on the spot just after reporting their election. Gracchus nevertheless completed the assembly. When he realized that this had caused religious anxiety among the people, he referred the matter to the Senate. The Senate decided to consult the people it usually consulted. The readers of entrails were brought in. They answered that the official conducting the election assembly hadn’t been acting lawfully. Then Gracchus flared up in anger, as I used to hear from my father:

[2.11]
“‘Really? I wasn’t qualified, even though I held the election as consul, as augur, and after taking the auspices? Or do you Etruscans, you barbarians, understand the rules for the Roman people’s auspices? Are you qualified to interpret their elections?’ So he told them to leave. Later, though, he wrote to the college from his province. While reading the books, he’d remembered a religious fault in his choice of a tent site in Scipio’s gardens. After choosing it, he’d entered the pomerium to hold a senate meeting. On his way back, when he crossed that same sacred city boundary, he’d forgotten to take the auspices. The consuls had therefore been elected through a faulty procedure. The augurs referred the matter to the senate. The senate told the consuls to resign. They resigned. What stronger examples could we ask for? An exceptionally wise man—perhaps the most outstanding man of all—preferred to admit a mistake he could have hidden rather than leave the republic burdened with a religious violation. The consuls preferred to give up the highest command immediately rather than hold it for a single moment against religious requirements.”

[2.12]
“The augurs have great authority. And isn’t the skill of the readers of entrails also divine? If someone sees these cases and countless others like them, isn’t he forced to admit that gods exist? Those whose messages they interpret must certainly exist. They interpret the gods’ messages. So let’s admit that gods exist. But perhaps not every prediction comes true. Well, not every sick person recovers, but that doesn’t mean there is no medical skill. The gods show us signs of future events. If anyone misreads them, the fault lies not in the gods’ nature but in human interpretation.

“And so people of every nation agree on the main point. Everyone has an inborn belief, engraved, as it were, in the mind, that gods exist. Opinions differ about what they are like. No one denies that they exist.

[2.13]
“Cleanthes, one of our own school, said that ideas of the gods took shape in people’s minds for four reasons. First he put the reason I just mentioned: foreknowledge of future events. Second came our awareness of the great benefits we receive from a balanced climate, fertile land, and a rich supply of many other useful things.

[2.14]
“His third reason was the fear stirred in our minds by lightning, storms, rain clouds, snow, hail, devastation, plague, earthquakes, frequent rumblings of the earth, showers of stones, and raindrops that seem like blood. There are landslides and sudden chasms in the earth. There are unnatural births among people and cattle. There are fiery lights seen in the sky and the stars the Greeks call ‘long-haired’ comets and our people call ‘curly-haired stars.’ These recently warned of great disasters during the war with Octavius. There is also the appearance of a double sun. My father told me this happened when Tuditanus and Aquilius were consuls, in the very year when Publius Africanus, our second sun, went out. Frightened by these things, people came to think that some heavenly, divine power existed.

[2.15]
“The fourth reason, perhaps the strongest of all, is the sky’s even movement <and perfectly steady> rotation, together with the distinct arrangement, usefulness, beauty, and order of the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Just looking at these things would be enough to show that they haven’t come about by chance. Suppose someone walked into a house, a gymnasium, or a public square and saw how everything was planned, regulated, and organized. They couldn’t think this had happened without a cause. They’d realize that someone was in charge and that others followed his directions. How much more clearly must someone recognize this when faced with such enormous movements and changes, such orderly arrangements of things so numerous and so vast? Throughout the immeasurable, endless past, nothing in them has ever gone wrong. We must conclude that some mind governs these immense movements of nature.”

[2.16]
“Chrysippus has an exceptionally sharp mind. Even so, what he says sounds as though he learned it from nature itself rather than worked it out on his own. ‘If there’s anything in nature,’ he says, ‘that the human mind, human reason, human strength, and human power can’t produce, then whatever produces it must be better than a human being. But humans can’t produce the heavenly bodies or any of the things whose order lasts forever. So whatever produces them is better than a human being. What would you call that, if not a god? Besides, if there are no gods, what in nature can be better than a human being? Humans alone have reason, and nothing can be more excellent than reason. But it’s foolish arrogance for a person to think there’s nothing in the whole universe better than themselves. So there is something better. That means there certainly is a god.’”

[2.17]
“Suppose you see a large, beautiful house. Even without seeing its owner, no one could persuade you that it was built for mice and weasels. Then think of the world’s great order, the vast variety and beauty of the heavens, and the great force and size of the sea and land. If you think this is your home and not the home of the immortal gods, wouldn’t you seem completely foolish? Don’t we even understand that everything above is better, while the earth is lowest, with the thickest air around it? In some regions and cities we see people’s minds grow dull because of the greater density of the atmosphere. The same thing has happened to the human race, because it has been placed on the earth, in the thickest region of the world.

[2.18]
“And yet human ingenuity itself should lead us to believe that there’s a mind sharper than ours, a divine mind. Where did humans ‘grab’ this ability from, as Socrates puts it in Xenophon? Suppose someone asks where we got the moisture and the heat spread through our bodies, or the solid, earthy material of our internal organs, or, finally, that breathlike spirit of ours. The answer’s obvious. We took one thing from earth, another from moisture, another from fire, and another from the air that we call breath. But what about what’s better than all of these? I mean reason—or, if you’d like more words, mind, judgment, thought, and practical wisdom. Where did we find it? Where did we get it from? Will the universe have everything else, but lack this one thing that’s worth the most? Surely, of everything that exists, nothing is better than the universe, nothing more excellent, nothing more beautiful. Not only does nothing better exist; we can’t even imagine anything better. And if nothing is better than reason and wisdom, they must be present in what we agree is the best thing of all.”

[2.19]
“Who wouldn’t be forced to accept what I’m saying by this great harmony of things, their shared activity, and their unbroken connection? Could the earth flower at one time and then be bare at another? Could the sun’s approach and retreat at the summer and winter solstices be recognized through the way so many things change of themselves? Could the tides of the sea and the narrow straits be stirred by the moon’s rising and setting? Could the stars keep their different courses within the single turning of the whole sky? These things, with all the world’s parts working together, certainly couldn’t happen unless one divine, unbroken breath held them together.

[2.20]
“When these matters are discussed more fully and at greater length, as I intend to do, they more easily escape the Academics’ petty objections. But when, as Zeno used to do, they are drawn together in short, tight arguments, they are easier to attack. A flowing river can hardly be polluted, if at all, while standing water is easily spoiled. In the same way, a stream of speech washes away a critic’s abuse, while a tightly compressed argument has trouble defending itself. Zeno squeezed the points we expand into this form:

[2.21]
“‘Whatever uses reason is better than whatever doesn’t. But nothing is better than the universe. So the universe uses reason.’ The same approach can prove that the universe is wise, that it’s happy, and that it’s eternal. Anything with these qualities is better than things that lack them, and nothing is better than the universe. It follows that the universe is a god.”

[2.22]
“He also argues this way: ‘No part of something that lacks sensation can itself have sensation. But parts of the universe have sensation. So the universe doesn’t lack sensation.’ He goes on to press the point more closely: ‘Nothing that lacks a soul and reason can produce a living, rational being from itself. But the universe produces living, rational beings. So the universe is alive and has reason.’ As he often does, he also uses a comparison to complete his argument: ‘Suppose flutes grew from an olive tree and played in tune. Would you doubt that the olive tree had some knowledge of flute-playing? And suppose plane trees bore little lyres that played rhythmically. You’d obviously think those trees had musical skill. So why shouldn’t we judge the universe to be alive and wise, when it produces living, wise beings from itself?’”

[2.23]
“But I’ve started doing something different from what I said at the outset. I said that this first part needed no argument, since everyone could see that gods exist. Still, I want this very point confirmed by arguments from physics—that is, from nature. The fact is that everything that feeds and grows contains a force of heat. Without it, nothing could feed or grow. Everything hot and fiery stirs and acts through its own motion. Anything that feeds and grows has a certain steady, even motion. As long as that motion stays in us, sensation and life stay too. But when our heat grows cold and goes out, we ourselves die and go out.

[2.24]
“Cleanthes also uses these arguments to show how powerful heat is in every body. He says that even the heaviest food is digested, night and day. Heat is even present in the waste that nature throws out. Again, the veins and arteries never stop throbbing, with what seems a fiery motion. People have also often noticed that when the heart of an animal is torn out, it beats so rapidly that it seems to imitate the speed of fire. So everything alive, whether an animal or something the earth produces, lives because of the heat shut inside it. From this we should understand that this kind of heat has within it a life-giving power that reaches throughout the world.

[2.25]
“We’ll see this more easily if we explain more carefully this whole fiery substance that passes through everything. All the world’s parts depend on heat for support and survival. I’ll touch on the largest ones. We can see this first in the earth. We see fire struck from stones when they hit or rub together. We see freshly dug earth give off steam from its warmth. We also draw warm water from wells that never run dry. This happens especially in winter, because a great amount of heat is held in the earth’s hollows. The earth is denser in winter, so it holds its own inner heat more tightly.

[2.26]
“It would take a long discussion, with many arguments, to show that this balance of heat brings into being and nourishes all the seeds the earth receives, and all the things it produces itself and holds in place by their roots. Water, too, has heat mixed into it. The first evidence is its very fluidity, its ability to flow. It couldn’t freeze in cold weather or thicken into snow and frost unless that same water also spread out, melted and loosened by the heat mixed into it. So moisture hardens when north winds and other sources of cold act on it. Then, in turn, it softens when warmed and melts with heat. Seas, too, grow warm when winds stir them up. That makes it easy to recognize the heat enclosed in those enormous masses of water. We shouldn’t regard that warmth as something foreign that comes from outside. The stirring brings it out from the sea’s deepest parts. The same thing happens in our own bodies when movement and exercise warm them up. Even air, which is extremely cold by nature, is far from being without heat;”

[2.27]
“In fact, a great deal of heat is mixed into it. Air itself rises from water as it breathes out. We should think of it as a kind of vapor from water. It is produced by the action of the heat held in water. We can see something similar in water that boils over a fire. Now take the remaining, fourth part of the world. Its whole nature is hot, and it gives all the other elements a healthy, life-giving heat.

[2.28]
“This leads to a conclusion. Since heat sustains every part of the universe, a similar force of the same nature must preserve the universe itself throughout its long existence. There’s all the more reason to accept this once we recognize that this hot, fiery element spreads through all of nature and holds the power to reproduce and the cause of generation. It must be the source from which all living creatures, and everything rooted in the earth, come into being and grow.”

[2.29]
“So there is a nature that holds the whole universe together and protects it, and it isn’t without sensation and reason. Every natural thing that isn’t isolated or simple, but joined and connected with something else, must have a ruling element within it. In a human being, that’s the mind. In an animal, it’s something like a mind, which gives rise to its desires for things. In trees and other things that grow from the earth, people think the ruling element is in the roots. By ‘ruling element’ I mean what the Greeks call ἡγεμονικὸν. In each kind of thing, nothing can or should rank above it. So whatever holds the ruling position in the whole of nature must be the best of all things, and the most deserving of power and authority over everything.”

[2.30]
“We see sensation and reason in parts of the universe—and there’s nothing anywhere in the universe that isn’t part of the whole. So these must also exist in the part that rules the universe, and in a sharper and greater form. The universe must therefore be wise. The nature that embraces and holds everything must excel through the completeness of its reason. It follows that the universe is a god, and that all its power is contained within a divine nature.”

“What’s more, the universe’s fiery heat is much purer, clearer, and more mobile than the heat here around us, which sustains the things we know and keeps them thriving. Those qualities make it much better suited to producing sensations.”

[2.31]
“So it’s absurd to say that the universe has no sensation. This heat holds humans and animals together, and enables them to move and feel. Yet the universe is held together by a fire that’s undiminished, unhindered, pure, and at the same time extremely intense and mobile. Besides, the universe’s fire isn’t stirred by anything else or pushed from outside. It moves by itself, of its own accord. After all, what could be more powerful than the universe, so as to push and move the heat that holds it together?”

[2.32]
“Let’s listen to Plato, a kind of god among philosophers. He recognizes two kinds of motion: motion that comes from a thing itself, and motion that comes from outside. He considers something that moves by itself, of its own accord, more divine than something set in motion by an outside push. Only souls, he says, have this self-generated motion, and he thinks motion originally comes from them. Now all motion arises from the universe’s fire, and that fire moves of its own accord, not from an outside push. So it must be a soul. It follows that the universe is alive.”

“We can also recognize that it has intelligence from this: the universe is certainly better than any other natural thing. Every part of our body is worth less than we ourselves are. In the same way, the universe as a whole must be worth more than any part of it. If that’s so, the universe must be wise. Otherwise a human being, who is part of the universe, would have to be worth more than the entire universe because he has a share in reason.”

[2.33]
“Also, if we choose to move from the earliest, unfinished forms of nature to the highest, completed ones, we must reach the nature of the gods. First we notice that nature sustains the things that grow from the earth. It gives them nothing beyond the nourishment and growth needed to preserve them.

[2.34]
“But it gives animals sensation and movement, along with an impulse to approach things that help them and avoid things that harm them. To human beings it gives something more: reason. Reason directs the mind’s impulses, now letting them go, now holding them back. The fourth and highest level belongs to beings born naturally good and wise. Right and steady reason is inborn in them from the start. We must regard this as above the human level and assign it to god—that is, to the world. In the world that complete and perfect reason must be present.

[2.35]
“We can’t say that any order of things lacks a final stage of completion. Take a vine or a farm animal. Unless some force gets in the way, we see nature follow its own course to the end. Painting, building, and the other crafts likewise have an outcome in which the work is finished. So nature as a whole must also reach completion and perfection—and there’s even more reason for it to do so. Many outside things can stop other natural things from reaching completion. But nothing can obstruct nature as a whole, because it encloses and contains all those other natures. So that fourth and highest level must exist, which no force can reach.”

[2.36]
“That’s the level occupied by the nature of all things. Since it rules everything and nothing can obstruct it, the universe must be intelligent—and wise as well.”

“What could be more ignorant than to say that the nature embracing everything isn’t the best? Or to admit that it’s the best, but deny that it’s first of all alive, then capable of reason and planning, and finally wise? How else could it be the best? If it were like plants, or even like animals, we should regard it as the worst rather than the best. And even if it has reason, its condition would still be worse than ours if it hasn’t been wise from the beginning. A human being can become wise. But if the universe was foolish throughout the endless stretch of past time, it certainly will never gain wisdom. That would make it worse than a human being. Since that’s absurd, we must regard the universe as wise from the beginning, and as a god.”

[2.37]
“Nothing except the universe lacks nothing, fits together on every side, and is complete in every detail and every part. Chrysippus makes a good point here. Just as a cover exists for a shield and a sheath for a sword, everything except the universe was brought into being for something else. The crops and fruits the earth produces exist for animals, and animals for human beings: the horse for riding, the ox for plowing, the dog for hunting and guarding. Human beings themselves came into being to study and imitate the universe—not perfect themselves by any means, but a small part of what is perfect.”

[2.38]
“But the universe embraces everything. There’s nothing that isn’t within it, so it’s complete in every way. How, then, could it lack what’s best? Nothing is better than mind and reason. So the universe can’t lack them. Here again Chrysippus argues well. He adds comparisons to show that everything is better in things that are fully developed and mature: in a horse rather than a foal, a dog rather than a puppy, a man rather than a boy. Likewise, whatever is best in the entire universe must exist in something complete and fully developed;”

[2.39]
“Nothing is more perfect than the universe, and nothing is better than virtue. So virtue must belong to the universe. Human nature isn’t perfect, yet virtue develops in human beings. How much more easily, then, must it develop in the universe! So the universe has virtue. That makes it wise, and therefore a god.”

“Once we’ve recognized the universe as divine, we must recognize the stars as divine too. They form from the most active and purest part of the ether, with no other kind of substance mixed in. They’re entirely hot and transparent. So we’re fully justified in saying that they too are alive, have senses, and understand.”

[2.40]
“Cleanthes thinks two of our senses, touch and sight, confirm that the stars consist entirely of fire. The sun’s heat and brightness surpass those of any other fire. After all, its light reaches far and wide through this enormous universe. And when we feel it, it doesn’t just warm us; it often burns us. It couldn’t do either unless it were fire. ‘So,’ he says, ‘since the sun is made of fire and feeds on the moisture of Ocean’—because no fire can last without something to feed it—‘its fire must resemble either the fire we use for our everyday needs and food, or the fire contained in living bodies.’”

[2.41]
“‘But our everyday fire, the kind we need to live, destroys and consumes everything. Wherever it spreads, it throws everything into disorder and breaks it apart. The fire inside bodies does the opposite. It gives life and health. It preserves, feeds, grows, and supports everything, and gives it sensation.’ So he says there’s no doubt which of these two fires the sun resembles. The sun too makes everything flourish and grow to maturity, each thing according to its kind. Since the sun’s fire resembles the fires inside living bodies, the sun must also be alive. The same holds for the other stars, which form in the burning region of heaven called ether or sky.”

[2.42]
“Some living things originate on land, others in water, and others in the air. So Aristotle thinks it’s absurd to suppose that no living thing originates in the region best suited to producing life. Now, the stars occupy the region of ether. It’s the finest substance, always moving and full of energy. Any living thing born there must therefore have exceptionally sharp senses and be able to move exceptionally fast. Since the stars form in the ether, it follows that they have sensation and intelligence. And that means we must count the stars among the gods. We can actually see that people who live in places where the air is pure and thin have sharper minds, better suited to understanding, than people who live under a thick, dense atmosphere.”

[2.43]
“People even think the food you eat makes some difference to the sharpness of your mind. So it’s reasonable to think that the stars have outstanding intelligence. They live in the universe’s region of ether, and they feed on moisture from sea and land that has become very fine during its long journey. But the clearest evidence that the stars have sensation and intelligence is their orderly, steady movement. Nothing can move according to a rational plan and fixed measures without intelligence directing it. Their order contains nothing haphazard, nothing changeable, nothing accidental. The stars’ order and their unbroken regularity through all eternity can’t be put down to nature, since that order is full of reason. Nor can they be put down to chance, which loves variety and rejects regularity. So the stars must move of their own accord, through their own awareness and divine nature.”

[2.44]
“Aristotle also deserves praise for his view that everything that moves does so either by nature, by force, or by choice. The sun, moon, and all the stars move. But things that move by nature go either downward because they’re heavy or upward because they’re light. Neither happens to the stars: their movement takes them around in a circle. Nor can we say that some greater force makes the stars move against their nature. What force could be greater? The only possibility left is that the stars move by choice.”

“Anyone who sees these things and still denies that gods exist shows not just ignorance but a lack of reverence. And there’s really little difference between denying their existence and denying them any management or activity. To my mind, something that does nothing doesn’t exist at all. So the existence of gods is so clear that I can hardly consider anyone who denies it to be in their right mind.”

[2.45]
“What remains is to consider what their nature is like. Here the hardest thing is to turn the mind’s eye away from what our eyes are used to seeing. That difficulty has led ordinary uneducated people, and philosophers who resemble them, to think of the immortal gods only in human shapes. Cotta has already exposed how flimsy that belief is. It doesn’t need an argument from me. But we have a firm idea in our minds, an advance awareness, that a god is first of all alive and second that nothing in all nature is more excellent. Nothing, I think, fits that awareness and idea better than judging, first, that this world itself is alive and a god, since nothing more excellent can exist.

[2.46]
“Epicurus can joke about this as much as he likes. He isn’t very good at jokes, and shows very little of his native country’s spirit. Let him say he can’t understand what a round, spinning god is like. He will never move me from this position, which he himself also accepts. He believes that gods exist because there must be some excellent being with nothing better than it. But certainly nothing is better than the world. And there is no doubt that something alive, possessing sensation, reason, and mind, is better than something that lacks them.

[2.47]
“So we establish that the universe is alive and possesses sensation, intelligence, and reason. This line of argument leads to the conclusion that the universe is a god. But a little later, the things the universe itself produces will make this easier to understand. Meanwhile, Velleius, please don’t advertise your school’s complete lack of learning. You say you find a cone, a cylinder, and a pyramid more beautiful than a sphere. Even your eyesight makes unusual judgments! Still, let’s allow that those shapes are more beautiful to look at, though I don’t agree even with that. What could be more beautiful than the one shape that encloses all the other shapes within itself? It can have no roughness, nothing to catch against, no angular cuts or winding bends, no projections or hollows. There are two outstanding shapes: among solid shapes, the ball, or globus—that’s how I prefer to translate the Greek σφαῖραν, ‘sphere’—and among flat shapes, the circle or disk, called κύκλος in Greek. Only these two shapes have all their parts as much alike as possible and their outer boundary everywhere the same distance from the center,”

[2.48]
“and nothing could be better suited to its purpose. But suppose you don’t see this because you’ve never touched the dust where people draw their learned diagrams. Even as students of nature, couldn’t you understand that no other shape could maintain such even movement and such a steady arrangement? So nothing could show less learning than the claim your school regularly makes. You don’t even say for certain that this universe is round. You say it could have some other shape, and that the countless other universes have all sorts of different shapes.”

[2.49]
“Epicurus certainly wouldn’t have said that if he’d learned how much twice two is. But while he was deciding what tasted best to his palate—his palatum—he never looked up at ‘caeli palatum,’ the ‘palate of the sky,’ as Ennius calls it.”

“There are two kinds of stars. One travels from east to west over unchanging distances and never turns aside from its course at any point. The other continually completes two revolutions over the same distances and along the same paths. Both show us that the universe rotates, which would be impossible unless it were shaped like a ball, and that the stars travel in circular circuits.”

“First, take the sun, which holds first place among the stars. Its movement fills the earth with abundant light, then darkens that same earth, now in one region and now in another. It’s the earth’s own shadow, shutting out the sun, that makes night. Nighttime intervals have the same regularity as daytime intervals. The sun also regulates cold and heat by coming closer and moving farther away in measured stages. It completes a year’s cycle in three hundred and sixty-five circuits, with roughly a quarter of a day added. As it bends its course now toward the Seven Oxen in the north, now toward the south, it produces summers and winters, along with the two seasons that come after winter as it fades and after summer. So the changes among the four seasons provide the starting points and causes of everything that grows on land and in the sea.”

[2.50]
“The moon follows the sun’s yearly courses in monthly stretches. Its light is thinnest when it comes closest to the sun, and fullest whenever it moves farthest away. Not only does its appearance and shape change, growing and then waning back to its starting point. Its position changes too. When it is north or south, its course also has something like a winter and a summer solstice. Many influences stream and flow from it. These feed living creatures and make them grow, and bring the things that spring from the earth to full growth and ripeness.

[2.51]
“But most remarkable of all are the movements of the five stars wrongly called ‘wanderers.’ Nothing wanders if, through all eternity, it keeps its forward and backward movements, and all its other movements, steady and fixed. This is all the more remarkable in the stars we’re discussing. Sometimes they disappear, then reappear. Sometimes they approach, then retreat. Sometimes they move ahead, then follow behind. Sometimes they move faster, sometimes slower. Sometimes they don’t move at all but remain still for a while. From these different movements, mathematicians have defined what they call the Great Year. It’s completed when the sun, moon, and five wandering stars have all finished their courses and returned to the same positions relative to one another;”

[2.52]
“How long this lasts is a major question. But it must have a fixed, definite length. The star called Saturn, which the Greeks name Phaenon (Φαίνων), ‘the shining one,’, is the farthest from earth. It completes its journey in about thirty years. Along the way it does many remarkable things. Sometimes it moves ahead, sometimes it slows down. Sometimes it disappears in the evening, then shows itself again in the morning. Yet through endless ages it never changes: it always does the same things at the same times. Below it, closer to earth, travels the star of Jupiter, called Phaethon (Φαέθων), ‘the radiant one,’. It goes around the same circle of twelve signs in twelve years. Its journey shows the same variations as Saturn’s.”

[2.53]
“The next lower orbit belongs to Pyroeis, ‘the fiery one,’ the star called Mars. It goes around the same circle as the two above it in twenty-four months less, I think, six days. Below it is the star of Mercury, called Stilbon, ‘the glittering one,’ by the Greeks. It goes around the zodiac in about a year. It never moves farther from the sun than the distance of one sign, sometimes going ahead of it, sometimes following behind. The lowest of the five wandering stars and nearest the earth is the star of Venus. When it goes ahead of the sun, it is called Phosphorus in Greek and Lucifer in Latin, meaning ‘light-bringer.’ When it follows behind, it is called Hesperus, ‘evening star.’ It completes its course in a year, passing across both the width and length of the zodiac, as the stars above it also do. It never goes farther from the sun than the distance of two signs, sometimes going ahead, sometimes following behind.

[2.54]
“I can’t understand how the stars could be so steady, or how such different journeys could keep such perfectly coordinated times forever, without intelligence, reason, and planning. We see these qualities in the stars. So we can’t help counting the stars themselves among the gods.”

“The stars we call fixed also show this same intelligence and foresight. Their daily rotation is regular and consistent. Their paths aren’t carried along by the ether, nor are the stars fastened to the sky, as most people say because they don’t understand how nature works. The ether doesn’t have the kind of nature that would let it grip the stars and whirl them around by its own force. It’s thin and transparent, with warmth spread evenly through it. That hardly seems suited to holding the stars in place;”

[2.55]
“So the fixed stars have their own sphere, separate and free from any connection with ether. Their everlasting, unbroken courses, with their astonishing, unbelievable steadiness, show that they have divine power and mind. Anyone who doesn’t recognize that these very stars possess divine power seems incapable of recognizing anything at all.

[2.56]
“So in heaven there is no chance, no recklessness, no wandering, and no unreality. Instead, everything there is order, truth, reason, and steadiness. Things that lack these qualities—false, unreal things full of error—move around the earth below the moon, which is the lowest of all the heavenly bodies, and on the earth itself. If someone thinks that heaven’s wonderful order and unbelievable steadiness have no mind behind them, he must be considered mindless himself. All the preservation and safety of everything spring from that order.

[2.57]
“So I don’t think I’ll go wrong if I begin this discussion with the leader in the search for truth. Zeno defines nature as a skilled fire that goes about producing things in a methodical way. He thinks that making and producing things is the special work of a craft. What our hands do in the work of our crafts, nature does with far greater skill. By nature I mean, as I said, a skilled fire that teaches all the other crafts. In this sense, nature in every form works skillfully. It has something like a method and a course to follow.”

[2.58]
“But Zeno says that the nature of the world itself, which embraces, encloses, and holds everything, is not only skilled but an actual craftsman. It plans and provides for everything useful and fitting. Other natural beings are each born, grow, and are sustained from their own seeds. In the same way, the world’s nature has all its motions by choice. Its efforts and impulses, which the Greeks call hormai, ‘urges,’ and the actions that follow them are just like ours, as we are moved by our minds and senses. Since the world’s mind is like this, it can rightly be called forethought or providence—the Greek word pronoia means ‘thinking ahead.’ It provides above all for these aims and is chiefly occupied with them: first, to make the world as well fitted as possible to last; next, to ensure that it lacks nothing; and most of all, to give it outstanding beauty and every kind of order.

[2.59]
“I have spoken about the world as a whole, and also about the stars. By now we can almost see the great number of gods. They aren’t idle, and they don’t perform their tasks with burdensome, tiresome labor. They aren’t held together by veins, sinews, and bones. They don’t consume food and drink of the sort that could build up fluids that are too sharp or too thick. Their bodies aren’t such that they must fear falls or blows, or dread diseases caused by tired limbs. It was fear of these things that made Epicurus invent his gods, mere outlines that do nothing.

[2.60]
“They have the most beautiful form and occupy the purest region of the sky. They move and manage their journeys in a way that makes them seem to have agreed to work together to preserve and protect everything.”

“There are also many other forms of divinity that the wisest Greeks and our own ancestors recognized and named because of their great benefits. They had good reason. They thought that anything bringing a great benefit to the human race must come from divine kindness toward us. Sometimes, then, they gave something produced by a god the name of that god. We do this when we call grain Ceres and wine Liber. That’s the source of the line from”

[2.61]
“Terence, ‘Without Ceres and Liber, Venus grows cold.’ At other times, something with an especially great power gets a name that makes the power itself a god. Examples are Fides, Good Faith, and Mens, Mind. We see their shrines on the Capitol, dedicated most recently by M. Aemilius Scaurus. Fides had already been consecrated earlier by <A.> Atilius Calatinus. You can see the temple of Virtus, Courage. You can also see the temple of Honos, Honor, which M. Marcellus restored. Q. Maximus had dedicated it many years earlier during the Ligurian War. And what about Ops, Plenty; Salus, Safety; Concordia, Harmony; Libertas, Freedom; and Victoria, Victory? All these things had such great power that they couldn’t be controlled without a god. So the things themselves received the names of gods. The sacred names of Cupid, Pleasure, and Venus Lubentina, Venus of Desire, belong to this same group. These are corrupt impulses, not natural ones—though Velleius thinks otherwise. Still, these very faults often stir our nature with particular force.”

[2.62]
“So the greatness of these benefits led people to recognize as gods those who produced each kind of benefit. The names I mentioned a little earlier show what power each god has.”

“Human society and common practice also came to raise men who had done outstanding good into heaven through their praise and goodwill. That’s how Hercules became a god, and Castor and Pollux, and Aesculapius, and Liber too. I mean the Liber born to Semele, not the one our ancestors solemnly and reverently worshiped together with Ceres and Libera. What that means can be understood from the mysteries. But because we call our own children *liberi*, Ceres’ children were named Liber and Libera. People keep this parentage for Libera, but not for Liber. Romulus belongs here too; some think he’s the same as Quirinus. Since these men’s souls lived on and enjoyed everlasting life, people rightly regarded them as gods. They were both supremely good and eternal.”

[2.63]
“A different line of thought, this time about the workings of nature, also produced a great number of gods. Dressed in human form, they supplied the poets with stories and filled human life with every kind of superstition. Zeno dealt with this subject, and Cleanthes and Chrysippus later explained it at greater length. An old belief spread throughout Greece that Caelus, the Sky, was castrated by his son Saturn, and that Saturn himself was bound by his son Jupiter:”

[2.64]
“Hidden inside these irreverent stories is a rather clever account of nature. The highest heavenly substance is ether, or fire. It produces everything by itself. So they meant that it had no use for the bodily part that needs a partner to produce offspring. Saturn, in their account, was the power that governed the course and cycle of periods of time. The god’s Greek name expresses that very thing. He’s called Κρόνος, Cronus, which they identify with χρόνος, ‘time,’ or a stretch of time. The Latin name Saturnus comes from *saturaretur annis*, ‘he was filled with years.’ The story says he used to eat his own children because time devours its own stretches and fills itself endlessly with the years that have passed. Jupiter bound him to keep his course from running out of control, tying him down with the bonds of the stars. Jupiter himself is the helping father: *Iuppiter*, explained as *iuvans pater*. When we change the grammatical case, we call him *Iovem*, connecting the name with *iuvando*, ‘helping.’ The poets call him ‘father of gods and humans.’ Our ancestors called him Best and Greatest. And they put Best, meaning most generous, before Greatest. That’s because helping everyone is a greater thing, and certainly more welcome, than having great”

[2.65]
“wealth. This, then, is the god Ennius names, as I said earlier, in the words ‘Look at this shining thing above, whom everyone calls Jupiter.’ That’s clearer than his wording elsewhere: ‘Against him I’ll call on whatever this shining thing is to bring a curse, as far as it’s in my power.’ Our augurs also mean this god when they say ‘when Jupiter flashes and thunders.’ What they’re saying is ‘when the sky flashes and thunders.’ Euripides has many excellent sayings, and puts this one briefly:
You see the boundless ether spread above,

holding the earth in a gentle embrace:

take this as the highest god, and call him Jupiter.”

[2.66]
“The air lies between the sea and the sky. According to the Stoics’ account, it’s worshiped under the name Juno. She’s Jupiter’s sister and wife because air resembles ether and is very closely joined to it. They made air feminine and assigned it to Juno because nothing is softer. But I think Juno’s name, *Iuno*, comes from *iuvando*, ‘helping.’ Water and earth remained, making three kingdoms to divide up as the stories tell. So Neptune, whom we regard as Jupiter’s brother, received another of them: the entire kingdom of the sea. Just as Portunus comes from *porta*, ‘gate,’ Neptunus was formed from *nando*, ‘swimming,’ with a small change to the opening letters. All the earth’s power and nature were assigned to Father Dis. His name means ‘rich,’ from Latin *dives*, just as the Greeks call him Pluton (Πλούτων), the Rich One. That’s because everything returns to the earth and everything rises from it. †With him is Proserpina (that’s a Greek name, since she’s the one called Persephone, Περσεφόνη, in Greek)—they take her to be the seed of crops and tell the story that her mother searches for her while she’s hidden away.”

[2.67]
“The mother, in turn, is Ceres. Her name comes from gerendis frugibus, ‘bearing crops,’ as though it were geres. The first letter happened to change, just as it did in Greek. The Greeks, too, called her Δημήτηρ, as though the name were γῆ μήτηρ, ‘earth mother.’ Mavors gets his name from magna verteret, ‘he would overturn great things.’ Minerva is the goddess who would either minueret, ‘diminish,’ or minaretur, ‘threaten.’ Beginnings and endings matter most in everything. So people decided that Janus should come first in sacrifices. His Latin name, Ianus, comes from eundo, ‘going.’ That’s also why passages that people can walk through are called iani, and doors at the entrances of buildings that aren’t sacred are called ianuae. Vesta’s name comes from Greek: she’s the goddess the Greeks call Hestia (Ἑστία), ‘Hearth.’ Her power concerns altars and hearths. Because she guards what’s deepest inside, every prayer and sacrifice ends with her.”

[2.68]
“The household gods, the Penates, have much the same power. Their name may come from penu, ‘food supply’—penus means everything people eat. Or it may come from penitus insident, ‘they live deep inside.’ That’s also why poets call them penetrales, ‘gods of the inner rooms.’ Apollo’s name is Greek. People identify him with the sun, and they think Diana and the moon are the same goddess. The sun is called sol either because he alone—solus—among all the stars is so large, or because, once he rises and all the others are hidden, he alone appears. The moon is called luna from lucendo, ‘shining.’ She’s also Lucina, the goddess who brings light. So during childbirth the Greeks call on Diana as Lucifera, ‘the light-bearer,’ while our people call on Juno as Lucina. This same Diana is called Omnivaga, ‘the all-wandering one.’ That’s not because she hunts, but because she’s counted among the seven heavenly bodies described as wanderers;”

[2.69]
“She’s called Diana because at night she makes something like diem, ‘daylight.’ People call on her during childbirth because babies are ready to be born after seven circuits of the moon in some cases, or nine in most. These circuits cover mensa spatia, ‘measured stretches,’ which is why they’re called menses, ‘months.’ Timaeus made a neat point here, as he often does. In his history, he said that Diana’s temple at Ephesus burned down on the very night Alexander was born. He added that this was hardly surprising: Diana had wanted to be there when Olympias gave birth, so she’d been away from home. Our people named Venus as the goddess who came to everything—from veniret, ‘would come.’ And venustas, ‘charm,’ comes from Venus, rather than Venus from venustas.”

[2.70]
“So do you see how good, useful discoveries about nature were developed into imaginary, made-up gods? This produced false beliefs, confused errors, and superstitions fit for old women. We know the gods’ shapes, ages, clothes, and ornaments, and also their family lines, marriages, and relationships. Everything has been made to resemble human weakness. They are even presented as emotionally disturbed. We have heard of their lust, grief, and anger. Nor, as the stories tell it, were they free of wars and battles. This wasn’t just as in Homer, where different gods defended the two opposing armies. They also fought wars of their own, against the Titans and against the Giants. It is extremely foolish to tell and believe these stories. They are full of nonsense and utter silliness.

[2.71]
“Still, once we reject and put aside these stories, we can understand the gods who extend through the nature of each thing—Ceres through the land, Neptune through the seas, and the others through other things. We can understand who they are, what they are like, and what names custom has given them. We ought to honor and worship these gods. The best, purest, holiest, and most devoted worship of the gods is always to honor them with clean, whole, uncorrupted minds and voices. It wasn’t just philosophers who distinguished superstition from religion. Our ancestors did too.

[2.72]
“For people who spent whole days praying and offering sacrifices so that their children would outlive them—would be superstites—were called superstitiosi, ‘superstitious.’ Later, that word took on a wider meaning. But <those> who carefully went back over everything involved in worshipping the gods, as though reading it again, were called religiosi, ‘religious,’ from relegendo, ‘going over again.’ This is <just as> elegantes, ‘discerning,’ comes from eligendo, ‘choosing,’ [just as] diligentes, ‘careful,’ comes <from> diligendo, ‘loving,’ and intellegentes, ‘understanding,’ comes from intellegendo, ‘understanding.’ All these words contain the same force of legere, ‘gather or read,’ that’s present in religioso, ‘religious.’ That’s how ‘superstitious’ became a word of criticism and ‘religious’ a word of praise. I think I’ve now shown well enough both that gods exist and what they’re like.”

[2.73]
“Next I need to show that the gods’ foresight governs the world. This is certainly a major subject, Cotta, and your school has attacked it. In fact, the whole debate is with your people. You and your school, Velleius, are less familiar with how each question is discussed. You read only your own writings and love only your own teachings. You condemn everyone else without hearing their case. For example, yesterday you yourself said that the Stoics bring in a fortune-telling old woman called Pronoea—that is, Providence. You said that because you mistakenly think they invent Providence as a separate goddess who steers and rules the entire world.”

[2.74]
“But that is an abbreviated way of speaking. Suppose someone says that the state of Athens is ruled by a council, leaving out ‘of the Areopagus.’ In the same way, when we say that providence runs the world, you should understand that ‘of the gods’ has been left out. The full, complete statement is this: the world is run by the providence of the gods. So please don’t use up on mocking us the wit that your tribe doesn’t possess. By Hercules, if you take my advice, you won’t even try! It doesn’t suit you; you haven’t been given the gift; you can’t do it. This doesn’t apply just to you, whose manners have been polished by family training and the sophistication of our people. It applies to the rest of your school and especially to the man who produced those ideas: a man without training or learning, who attacks everyone, without any sharpness, weight, or charm.

[2.75]
“So I say that the world and all its parts were first formed by the gods’ providence and are always governed by it. Our school usually divides this argument into three parts. The first starts from the reasoning that proves that gods exist. Once that is granted, we must admit that their planning runs the world. The second shows that all things are subject to a natural power that has sensation, and that this power manages everything in the best way. Once that is established, it follows that this nature was produced from living principles. The third line of argument comes from wonder at the things of heaven and earth.

[2.76]
“First, then, we must either deny that gods exist—which, in a way, is what Democritus does when he introduces likenesses, and Epicurus when he introduces images—or, if we admit that gods exist, we must admit that they do something, and something outstanding. But nothing is more outstanding than governing the world. So the world is governed through the gods’ planning. If that isn’t so, something must certainly exist that’s better and more powerful than a god, whatever that something may be. It might be lifeless nature, or necessity driven by immense force, producing these wonderfully beautiful works we see;”

[2.77]
“In that case, the gods’ nature isn’t supremely powerful or outstanding. It’s subject to the necessity or nature that rules the sky, seas, and lands. But nothing is superior to a god. So a god must rule the world. A god therefore doesn’t obey any natural power or stand under its authority. Instead, he rules all of nature himself. After all, if we admit that the gods have intelligence, we also admit that they plan ahead—and plan for the most important things. So do they not know what the most important things are, or how to manage and protect them? Or do they lack the power to keep such great things going and run them? But ignorance is foreign to the gods’ nature. And struggling to carry out a duty because of weakness is completely out of keeping with their greatness. That establishes what we set out to prove: the gods’ foresight governs the world.”

[2.78]
“Now, since there are gods—if indeed there are, as there certainly are—they must be alive. And not just alive: they must have reason and be joined together by something like the bonds and fellowship of citizenship. They rule one world as a shared state and city.

[2.79]
“It follows that they have the same reason as the human race. Truth is the same in both, and so is law, which commands what is right and forbids what is wrong. From this we understand that good sense and intelligence have also come to human beings from the gods. That is why our ancestors established the consecration and public dedication of Mind, Faith, Virtue, and Harmony. How can we consistently deny that these qualities belong to the gods, when we honor their revered and holy images? If mind, faith, virtue, and harmony exist in the human race, where could they have flowed down to earth from, except from those above? And since we possess planning, reason, and good sense, the gods must possess these same things on a greater scale. They must not only possess them but also use them on the greatest and best things.

[2.80]
“Nothing is greater or better than the world. So it must be run by the gods’ planning and providence. Finally, we have sufficiently shown that these are gods whose remarkable power and brilliant appearance we can see. I mean the sun, the moon, the wandering and fixed stars, the sky, and the world itself, along with the power of those things present throughout the world that bring great use and benefit to humanity. It follows that everything is ruled by divine intelligence and good sense. Enough has been said about the first part.

[2.81]
“Next I must show that everything is subject to nature and that nature manages it in the best way. But first we must briefly explain what nature itself is, to make the point we want to prove easier to understand. Some think nature is a force without reason that causes necessary movements in bodies. Others think it is a force that shares in reason and order, proceeds along a kind of path, and makes clear why it produces each result and what end it pursues. No art, no human hand, no craftsman can match its skill by imitation. A seed, they say, has such power that, tiny though it is, it can enter a natural setting that receives and holds it, find material to feed on and grow from, and then shape and produce each thing according to its kind. Some things merely feed through their roots. Others can also move, feel, desire, and produce from themselves others like themselves.

[2.82]
“Some people use ‘nature’ as a name for everything. Epicurus, for example, divides it this way: the nature of everything that exists consists of bodies, empty space, and what happens to them. But when we say that nature holds the world together and runs it, we don’t mean that it is like a clod of earth, a piece of stone, or something of that kind, with no inner principle of cohesion. We mean it is like a tree or an animal, in which we see no random activity but order and something resembling skill.

[2.83]
“Now, if things rooted in the earth live and thrive through nature’s skill, surely that same power, nature’s skill, holds the earth itself together. Pregnant with seeds, the earth gives birth to everything and pours it out of itself. It embraces roots, feeds them, and makes them grow. In return, it’s fed by the natural things above and outside it. The earth’s own exhalations also feed the air, the ether, and everything higher up. So if nature holds the earth together and keeps it thriving, the same reasoning applies to the rest of the world. Plants cling to the earth, while living creatures depend on breathing air. The air itself sees with us, hears with us, and makes sounds with us: none of these things can happen without it. It even moves along with us. Wherever we go, wherever we move, it seems to make room and give way.”

[2.84]
“Things carried toward the world’s center, its lowest point, things carried upward away from the center, and things carried in a circle around the center form the world’s single, continuous nature. There are four kinds of bodies, and their interchange makes the world’s nature continuous. Water comes from earth, air from water, and ether from air. Then, in reverse, air comes from ether, water from air, and earth, the lowest, from water. So these elements, of which everything consists, move up and down, back and forth, and keep the world’s parts joined together.

[2.85]
“It must either last forever, just as we see it now, or at least endure for an extremely long, almost limitless time. Either way, it follows that nature runs the universe. What fleet under sail, what army in formation, shows as much skill in nature as the universe itself? Or, to compare things that nature produces, what growing vine or tree, what animal’s shape and arrangement of limbs, shows as much? So either nothing is governed by a nature that has awareness, or we have to admit that the universe is governed that way.”

[2.86]
“The universe contains all other natural things and their seeds. How can it itself not be managed by nature? That would be like saying that teeth and puberty arise naturally, but the human being in whom they arise is not a natural structure. Anyone who says that fails to understand that things which produce something from themselves have a more complete nature than the things they produce. Of everything managed by nature, the universe is the source of seed, the sower, and, so to speak, the parent that raises and feeds them. It feeds and holds everything together as its own limbs and parts. If nature manages the parts of the universe, nature must manage the universe itself. And there is nothing in the way it is managed that anyone can fault. Given the materials available, the best possible result has been achieved.”

[2.87]
“Then let someone show that it could have been better. No one ever will. Anyone who tries to correct something will either make it worse or ask for something that could not have been done.

“Now all the parts of the universe are so arranged that they could neither work better nor look more beautiful. Let us ask whether this is an accident, or whether their arrangement could not possibly hold together without intelligent control and divine planning. Things made by nature are better than those made by skill. Skill produces nothing without reason. So we must not think that nature lacks reason either. When you look at a statue or a painting, you know skill went into it. When you see a ship moving in the distance, you have no doubt that skill and reason are making it move. When you look at a sundial, with its marked lines, or a water clock, you understand that it tells the hours by skill, not chance. How, then, can you think the universe has no plan or reason? It contains those very skills, the people who practice them, and everything else.”

[2.88]
“Suppose someone took to Scythia or Britain the sphere our friend Posidonius recently made. Each turn of it reproduces the movements that the sun, moon, and five wandering stars make in the sky each day and night. Who in those uncivilized lands would doubt that reason went into making that sphere? Yet these people doubt whether the universe itself, from which everything comes into being and is made, was produced by chance, by some kind of necessity, or by divine reason and intelligence. They think Archimedes was more capable of copying the sphere’s rotations than nature was of producing them. And yet the real movements are made with far greater skill than these imitations.”

[2.89]
“Think of the shepherd in Accius who had never seen a ship. From his mountain he spotted the Argonauts’ strange, godlike craft in the distance. Amazed and terrified at first, he says:
Something so huge slides along,

roaring out at sea with an enormous noise and blast:

it rolls waves ahead of it and forces whirlpools up,

surges forward, splashes the sea, and blows the spray back;

one moment you’d think a broken storm cloud was rolling along,

another, that some rock flung high by winds was being swept away

or driven by gales, or that rounded whirlwinds

were rising where crashing waves struck them—

unless the sea is heaving up some wreckage from the land,

or perhaps Triton, tearing caves apart with his trident,

far below their roots, deep in the surging strait,

is hauling a mass of rock from the depths to the sky:
At first he can’t tell what this unfamiliar thing he’s looking at might be. Then he sees the young men and hears the sailors singing:
just as †swift and lively dolphins snort through their snouts
—and much else along the same lines—
Much like Silvanus’s tune,

a song and sound reach his ears
—”

[2.90]
“So at first sight this man thinks he is looking at something lifeless, without awareness. Then clearer signs make him begin to guess the nature of the thing he had been uncertain about. Philosophers should have done the same. Perhaps their first view of the universe confused them. But later they saw its movements were regular and steady, and that everything was controlled by a fixed order that never changed. Then they should have understood that this heavenly, divine home has someone in it—not just an occupant, but a ruler and director, a kind of architect of this enormous work and gift.

“As it is, I do not think they even begin to grasp how wonderful the things of heaven and earth are.”

[2.91]
“To begin with, the earth sits at the center of the universe. All around it lies the life-giving, breathable substance called air, or aer. That’s a Greek word, of course, but our people have already taken it into everyday use. It’s familiar enough to count as Latin. Around the air, in turn, stretches the boundless ether, made of the fires highest above us. Let’s borrow this word too: aether can be Latin just as aer is. Pacuvius does translate it: ‘What I’m speaking of, our people call caelum, “sky”; the Greeks call it aether.’ As though the person saying that weren’t Greek! ‘But he’s speaking Latin.’ Only if we aren’t listening to him as someone who’s supposed to be speaking Greek. The same writer makes the point elsewhere:”

[2.92]
“‘A Greek by birth: his speech itself makes that clear.’ But let us return to more important things. From the ether come the countless fires of the stars. Chief among them is the sun. It lights everything with its brilliant light and is many times bigger and wider than the whole earth. Next come the other stars, also of immense size. These fires, so great and so numerous, do no harm at all to the earth or to things on it. In fact, they help them so much that, if they were shifted out of place, the earth would inevitably burn up. The restraint and balance that keep such great heat in check would be gone.”

[2.93]
“After all this, shouldn’t I be amazed that anyone can convince himself of the following? Certain solid, indivisible bodies move under the force of their weight, and their accidental collisions produce this wonderfully ordered and beautiful universe. If someone thinks that could happen, I don’t see why he wouldn’t also believe this: take countless copies of the twenty-one letters, made of gold or anything else, throw them together somewhere, and shake them out onto the ground. They could form Ennius’s Annals, ready to read straight through in order! I doubt chance could manage even a single line.”

[2.94]
“Yet these people insist that the universe was completed by tiny bodies colliding blindly and by chance—bodies with no color, no quality of any kind, what the Greeks call ποιότητα, and no sensation. Or rather, they say countless universes are being born and dying at every instant. But if a collision of atoms can make a universe, why can’t it make a colonnade, a temple, a house, or a city? Those take less work, and there are plenty of much easier things too. They certainly spout such reckless nonsense about the universe that I don’t think they’ve ever looked up at the wonderfully ordered display of the heavens. That’s our next topic.”

[2.95]
“So Aristotle puts it very well: ‘Suppose there were people who had always lived underground, in fine, well-lit homes. These were decorated with statues and paintings and supplied with everything that people considered fortunate have in plenty. But they had never come up above ground. They had heard reports and stories, though, of some divine power, some force belonging to gods. Then one day the earth opened up. They could leave their hidden homes and come out into the places where we live. Suddenly they would see the earth, the seas, and the sky. They would learn how huge the clouds are and how powerful the winds. They would see the sun and discover not just its size and beauty, but what it does: it makes the day by flooding the whole sky with light. Then, when night darkened the earth, they would see the whole sky dotted and decorated with stars. They would see the changing brightness of the moon, now growing, now shrinking, and the risings and settings of all these bodies, and their fixed, unchanging courses through all eternity. Once they saw these things, they would certainly believe both that gods exist and that these great works belong to the gods.’”

[2.96]
“That’s what he said. Now let’s picture darkness as thick as the darkness that once reportedly covered the regions near Mount Etna when its fires erupted. For two days no one could recognize another person. When the sun shone out on the third day, people felt they’d come back to life. Suppose the same thing happened to us after everlasting darkness, and we suddenly saw the light. What would we think of the sight of the sky? Instead, our minds grow used to what our eyes meet every day. We neither wonder at the things we always see nor ask how they work—as though their novelty, rather than their greatness, ought to move us to look for their causes.”

[2.97]
“Who would call someone human if he saw the sky’s movements so dependable, the stars’ order so fixed, and everything so closely connected and fitted together, yet denied that there was any reason behind it? He says things happen by chance, though we cannot use our own planning to grasp how much planning goes into them. When we see something moved by a mechanism—a sphere, a clock, or any number of other things—we have no doubt that it is the work of reason. But we see the sky rush round and turn at an astonishing speed. It unfailingly brings about the yearly changes, keeping everything safe and sound. Can we doubt that this happens through reason, and not just any reason, but an outstanding, divine reason?”

[2.98]
“We can now put aside fine points of argument and, in a way, look with our own eyes at the beauty of the things we say were arranged by divine care.

“First, look at the earth as a whole. It sits at the center of the universe, solid and round. The pull of all its parts toward their own center makes it a globe. It is covered with flowers, grasses, trees, and crops. Their incredible numbers come in a variety we can never get tired of. Add to these the cool, never-failing springs, the clear flowing rivers, the lush green covering of their banks, the deep hollows of caves, the rough rocks, the towering heights of mountains, and the vast plains. Add, too, the hidden veins of gold and silver, and the endless supplies of marble.”

[2.99]
“Then there are so many different kinds of animals, tame and wild. Think of birds gliding and singing, herds grazing, wild creatures living in the woods. And what should I say of human beings? They have been placed on earth as its caretakers, so to speak. They do not let savage beasts turn it into a wilderness or let rough undergrowth overrun it. Through their work, fields, islands, and coastlines shine with houses and cities spread across them. If we could see all this with our eyes as we can with our minds, no one looking at the whole earth would doubt that divine reason was at work.”

[2.100]
“And how beautiful the sea is! Think of its appearance as a whole, its many different islands, and its lovely coasts and shores. Think how many kinds of creatures it holds, and how different they are: some underwater, some floating, some swimming, and some clinging to rocks in the shells they grow with. The sea itself reaches toward the land and plays along its shores, until the two substances seem blended into one.”

[2.101]
“Next comes the air beside the sea, with its alternation of day and night. Sometimes it spreads out, grows thin, and rises high. Sometimes it thickens and gathers into clouds, collects moisture, and enriches the earth with rain. Sometimes it streams this way and that, making winds. It also brings the yearly changes of cold and heat. It supports birds in flight, and, as living creatures breathe it in, it feeds them and keeps them alive.”

“Last comes the surrounding vault of the heavens, highest and farthest from our homes. It encloses everything and holds everything in. This is also called ether, the universe’s outermost edge and boundary. Within it, fiery shapes trace their orderly courses in a most wonderful way.”

[2.102]
“Among these is the sun, many times larger than the earth, which revolves around the earth itself. By rising and setting it makes day and night. Moving closer and then farther away, it makes two turns each year, in opposite directions from the farthest points of its path. Between these points, at one time it makes the earth shrink, as though in sadness, and at another makes it glad again, so that it seems to share the sky’s happiness.”

[2.103]
“The moon, which mathematicians show is more than half the earth’s size, travels the same stretches of sky as the sun. Sometimes it meets up with the sun; sometimes it moves away. It sends down to earth the light it receives from the sun, while its own light goes through various changes. Sometimes it moves below and directly in front of the sun, blocking its rays and light. At other times, when it’s opposite the sun, it enters the earth’s shadow. With the earth coming between them and blocking the way, the moon suddenly disappears. The stars we call wanderers also travel around the earth through these same stretches of sky. They rise and set in the same way, and their movements sometimes speed up and sometimes slow down,”

[2.104]
“and often they even stand still. Nothing could be more wonderful or beautiful to watch. Next comes the great number of fixed stars. Their arrangement is so clearly marked out that they have been named for their likeness to familiar shapes.”

At this point he looked at me. “I will use the poems of Aratus,” he said. “You translated them when you were very young. I enjoy them so much in Latin that I remember many passages by heart. So, as we constantly see with our own eyes, without any change or variation,
the other heavenly bodies glide in the sky’s swift motion,

and travel with the sky through nights and days.”

[2.105]
“and anyone who wants to see nature’s regularity could never get enough of watching them.
The very tip at either end of the axis

is called a pole.
Around this circle the two Bears, which never set.
The Greeks call one of these Cynosura,

the other is called Helice,
whose brightest stars we see all night long. These are the stars
our people have long called Septem Triones, the Seven Plow Oxen;”

[2.106]
“Little Cynosura circles the same pole of the sky, with the same number of stars laid out much the same way.
The Phoenicians trust her as their guide at night on the open sea.

“But that first Bear shines brighter, with more clearly marked stars,

and as soon as night falls, she’s the first seen far and wide.

“This one is small, but sailors find her useful:

she turns on an inner course, in a smaller circle.
And to make these stars still more wonderful to look at,
between them, like a river with a rushing current,

fierce Draco winds, curling above and below

and making twisting loops with his body.”

[2.107]
“His whole appearance is splendid, <and> especially worth looking at are the shape of his head and the blaze of his eyes:
Not just one star shines to adorn his head:

his temples are marked by a double glow,

two burning lights blaze from his fierce eyes,

and his chin shines with a single radiant star;

his head is tilted, <but> bent back on his rounded neck—

you’d say his gaze was fixed on the larger Bear’s tail.”

[2.108]
“We see the rest of Draco’s body all night long,
but this head briefly, suddenly, hides itself here,

where rising and setting meet in a single region.
“Close to this head,
a shape like a tired, grieving person

turns.
“The Greeks
call him Engonasin, because he moves resting on his knees.

“Here is set the Crown, shining exceptionally bright.
“This is behind him. By his head is the Serpent Bearer,
whom the Greeks call by the familiar name Ophiuchus.”

[2.109]
“He holds the Snake tightly between his two hands,

and is himself bound by its twisted body,

for the Serpent circles the man’s waist below his chest.

“Still he plants his feet, straining hard,

and presses the Scorpion’s eyes and chest with them.
“Following the Seven Plow Oxen comes
Arctophylax, the Bear Keeper, commonly called Boötes,

because he drives the Bear ahead as though hitched to a wagon pole.
“Then comes what follows:”

[2.110]
“‘Beneath this man’s’—Boötes’s—
chest a star seems fixed,

its rays shining: its famous name is Arcturus.
“Below his feet moves
the Maiden, her body shining, holding the bright Ear of Grain.
“The constellations have been mapped out in such a way that divine skill shows in these vast designs:
You would see the Twin Sons below the Bear’s head.

“Under her middle is the Crab, while at her feet lies

the great Lion, shaking flickering flame from his body.
“The Charioteer
will move across below the Twins’ left side.

“Fierce Helice watches his head facing her.

“The bright Goat occupies his left shoulder.
“Then comes what follows:
But she is marked by a great and brilliant star,

while the Kids, in contrast, send only a little light to mortals.
“Below his feet
the horned Bull stands firm with his powerful body.
“His head is sprinkled with many stars.”

[2.111]
“The Greeks have long called these stars the Hyades
from raining—ὕειν means ‘to rain.’ Our people ignorantly call them Suculae, ‘little sows,’ as though they were named after pigs, subus, rather than showers of rain. Cepheus follows the smaller Bear <behind> her back, with his palms spread out:
he turns right behind the Bear Cynosura.
Ahead of him is
Cassiepia, with stars that are hard to see.

“Beside her turns the bright figure

of Andromeda, sad and fleeing her mother’s gaze.

“The Horse, tossing his mane in flashing light,

touches the top of her head with his belly, and a linking star—

one shared light—holds both figures together,

wanting to tie an everlasting knot of stars.

“Next Aries stands fixed, with his twisted horns.
Beside him are
the Fish, one of which moves a little farther ahead

and feels more of the north wind’s chilling blasts.”

[2.112]
“At Andromeda’s feet is the figure of Perseus,
whom winds strike <from> the far northern reaches.
And
beside his left knee

you’ll see the Vergiliae faintly shining.

“Next the Lyre appears, gently tilted and curved.
Next
there’s the winged Bird beneath the sky’s wide canopy.
Near the Horse’s head is Aquarius’s right hand, followed by the whole figure of Aquarius. Then,
breathing icy cold from his powerful chest,

half-beast Capricorn stands on the great circle;

when Titan clothes him in unbroken light,

he swings his chariot around, making his turn at the winter solstice.”

[2.113]
“Here can be seen
the Scorpion rising high into view,

with his hindquarters forcefully dragging the curved Bow.
“Near him
the Bird turns round, shining with its wings.

“And close by, the Eagle moves with blazing body.
“Then the Dolphin.
Next Orion, straining with his body at an angle.”

[2.114]
“Following him,
that blazing Dog shines in the light
of the stars. Behind comes the Hare,
never tiring enough to slow its run.

“At the Dog’s tail, Argo winds and glides along.

“The Ram and the scaly-bodied Fish cover her

as her shining body touches the River’s banks.
You’ll see the River ‘winding’ and flowing far,
and you’ll see the long Chains,

set beside the Fish’s tails to hold them.

“Then, near the shining Scorpion’s pointed tip, you’ll see

the Altar, gently brushed by the south wind’s breath.
Close to these the Centaur
moves along, hurrying to bring his horse parts beneath the Claws.

“Here he holds out his right hand, which grips a huge four-legged beast,

and fiercely reaches toward the shining Altar.

“Here the Water Snake rises from the lower regions,
her body stretching far,
and the bright Cup shines in the middle of her coils.

“At her tail the Raven, his feathered body gleaming,

pecks with his beak. And here, right beneath the Twins, is

the Dog’s Forerunner, known in Greek as Procyon.”

[2.115]
“Could any sane person think that this whole arrangement of stars, this vast and beautiful order of the sky, could have been made by bodies rushing here and there blindly and by chance? Could any other kind of nature, without mind and reason, have made these things? They needed reason not only to be made. We cannot even understand what they are like without the highest use of reason.

“And these are not the only wonderful things. Nothing is greater than the fact that the universe is so stable and holds together so well that we cannot even imagine anything better fitted to last. All its parts press equally toward the center from every side. Bodies stay joined most firmly when they are held together as though by a band wrapped around them. This is what nature does as it spreads through the whole universe, making everything with mind and reason, drawing and turning the outermost parts toward the center.”

[2.116]
“So, if the universe is round, and that shape keeps all its parts evenly balanced on every side, both on their own and in relation to each other, the same must hold for the earth. All its parts press toward the center, which is the lowest point in a sphere. Nothing can break that concentrated pull of weight and heaviness and make it give way. The same reasoning applies to the sea. Although it lies above the earth, it still seeks the earth’s center. That makes it round and evenly balanced on every side, so it never overflows or spills away.”

[2.117]
“The air touching the sea rises upward because it is light. Still, it spreads out in every direction. So it is joined directly to the sea and naturally moves toward the sky. The sky’s thinness and heat temper it, and it supplies living things with healthy, life-giving breath. The highest part of the sky, called ether, surrounds the air. It keeps its own heat, thin and unthickened by any mixture, and joins with the air’s outer edge. The stars turn in the ether. Their own inward pressure holds them together as globes, and their very shape and form keep them balanced. They are round, and, as I think I said before, this is the shape least open to damage.”

[2.118]
“The stars are fiery by nature. So they feed on vapors from the earth, the sea, and the other waters, drawn up by the sun from the warmed fields and waters. Fed and renewed by these vapors, the stars and all the ether pour them out and draw them back from the same places. Almost nothing, or very little, is lost, consumed by the stars’ fire and the ether’s flame. From this our school thinks there will come the event that Panaetius was said to doubt: in the end the whole universe will catch fire. When the moisture has been used up, the earth could no longer be fed and the air could not return. With all the water exhausted, air could not arise. So nothing would be left but fire. Then this fire, a living being and a god, would renew the universe, and the same ordered world would arise again.”

[2.119]
“I do not want you to think I am spending too long on the stars, especially those called wanderers. Their very different movements make such a harmony. The highest, Saturn’s star, cools things; the middle one, Mars’s, burns them. Jupiter’s, between these two, lights things and keeps them in balance. Below Mars, two stars obey the sun. The sun itself fills the whole universe with its light. The moon, lit by the sun, brings pregnancy and birth and the right times for bringing life into being. If someone is not moved by this linking of things, this fitting together of nature in harmony, so to speak, to keep the universe safe, I know for certain that he has never thought about any of it.”

[2.120]
“Now let’s come down from the heavens to things on earth. Is there anything here that doesn’t show nature working intelligently? Start with the things that grow from the earth. Their roots support what rests on them and keep it steady. Those roots also draw nourishment from the earth to feed the plants they hold in place. A covering of inner or outer bark protects their trunks against cold and heat. Then look at vines. They take hold of supports with their tendrils, as if they were hands, and pull themselves upright like animals. In fact, people say that if cabbage stalks are planted nearby, vines shrink away from them as though they were deadly and harmful. They won’t touch any part of them.”

[2.121]
“What a variety of animals there is! What power they have to keep each kind going! Some are covered with hides, others clothed in hair, others bristling with spines. We see some covered in feathers, others in scales, some armed with horns, others equipped with wings to escape. Nature has provided animals with a rich, plentiful supply of the food suited to each. I could list how their shapes help them get and process that food, how skillfully and precisely their parts are arranged, and how wonderfully their limbs are built. Everything enclosed inside them is made and placed so that none of it is useless, none unnecessary for keeping them alive.”

[2.122]
“Nature has also given animals senses and appetite. Appetite drives them to seek their natural food; their senses let them tell what’s harmful from what’s healthy. Some animals reach their food by walking, others by crawling, flying, or swimming. Some take it into their open mouths with their teeth. Others seize it with gripping claws or hooked beaks. Some suck, some pluck, some gulp, and some chew. Some are low enough to reach food on the ground easily with their beaks. Taller animals—geese, swans, cranes, and camels—have long necks to help them;”

[2.123]
“the elephant was even given a hand—its trunk—because its huge body made food hard to reach. For beasts whose diet meant eating †other kinds of animals, nature supplied either strength or speed. Some were also given a kind of ingenuity and skill. Among spiders, for example, some weave something like a net so they can kill whatever gets caught in it. Others […] watch for a chance to strike unexpectedly, seize whatever comes their way, and eat it. The pina—that’s its Greek name—opens wide in its two large shells and forms a sort of food-gathering partnership with a little shrimp. When small fish swim into the open shell, the pina, alerted <by> the shrimp, bites its shells shut. That’s how two very different little creatures get their food together;”

[2.124]
“and it’s remarkable to ask whether they came together through some agreement or whether nature itself joined them from birth. There’s also something quite remarkable about water animals that are born on land. Crocodiles, river turtles, and certain snakes are born outside the water, but as soon as they can move, they make for it. We even put ducks’ eggs under hens quite often. At first, the ducklings are fed by the hens that hatched them and kept them warm, as though these were their mothers. But as soon as they’ve caught sight of water, their natural home, they leave the hens and escape when the hens follow them. Nature has planted such a strong instinct for self-preservation in animals. I’ve also read about a bird called the platalea. It gets food by flying up to birds that dive into the sea. When they come up with a fish, it keeps squeezing their heads with its beak until they drop their catch, and then it snatches it. This same bird is also said to fill itself with shellfish. After digesting them with the heat of its stomach, it throws them up and picks out the edible parts.”

[2.125]
“Sea frogs are said to bury themselves in sand and move about near the water. Fish come toward them as though they were food, only to be killed and eaten by the frogs. The kite and the raven seem to have a natural war with each other. So either one breaks the other’s eggs wherever it finds them. And who could fail to marvel at this observation of Aristotle’s, who supplied most of these examples? When cranes cross the seas on their way to warmer places, they form a triangle. At its leading point they push aside the air coming toward them. Then, along both sides, their wings work like oars and gradually make the birds’ flight easier. The cranes forming the triangle’s base get help from the winds, as if the wind were pushing at a ship’s stern. They rest their heads and necks on the backs of the birds flying ahead. The leader can’t do that, since it has nothing to lean on. So it flies to the rear to get some rest too, and one of the rested birds takes its place. They keep taking turns like this throughout the journey.”

[2.126]
“I could give many examples like these, but you see the general pattern. Then there are the more familiar ways animals take such pains to protect themselves: looking around while they feed and hiding in their dens. And these things are amazing: dogs treat themselves by vomiting, and Egyptian ibises by clearing out their bowels. Doctors only worked out these treatments recently—that is, a few centuries ago. We’ve heard that panthers caught with poisoned meat in uncivilized lands have a remedy that keeps them from dying when they use it. And people say that when wild goats in Crete have been pierced by poisoned arrows, they look for a plant called dictamnus. Once they’ve tasted it, the arrows fall out of their bodies;”

[2.127]
“and shortly before giving birth, female deer thoroughly purge themselves with a little plant called seselis. We can also see how each animal uses its own weapons to defend itself against force and danger. Bulls use their horns, boars their teeth, and lions their speed. Some protect themselves by running away, others by hiding. Cuttlefish release ink; torpedo fish numb their attackers. Many animals also drive off pursuers with an unbearably foul smell.”

“To keep the world’s beauty lasting forever, the gods in their foresight took great care that there would always be kinds of animals, trees, and all the things held in the earth by roots. All of these carry within them the power of seed, so that many can grow from one. This seed is enclosed deep inside the berries produced by each kind of plant. Those same seeds both provide abundant food for people and fill the earth with fresh growth of the same kinds of plants.”

[2.128]
“Why go into the careful planning we can see in animals, which keeps their species going forever? To start with, some are male and others female. Nature arranged this so their kind could continue. Then there are the body parts, ideally suited for producing offspring and conceiving them. Both males and females also feel a remarkable urge to mate. Once the seed has settled in place, it draws almost all the nourishment to itself. Enclosed in that nourishment, it develops into an animal. When the young animal slips out of the womb and is born, almost everything its mother eats begins turning into milk, in those animals that feed their young this way. The newborns seek out the teats without anyone teaching them. Nature guides them, and the plentiful milk fills them up. There’s another way we can see that none of this happens by chance, and that it’s all the work of a nature that plans ahead and knows what it’s doing. Animals that have large litters, like pigs and dogs, have been given many teats. Those that have few young have only a few.”

[2.129]
“Need I describe how much love animals show in raising and protecting their young, until they can defend themselves? Fish, though, are said to leave their eggs once they have laid them. The water easily supports the eggs, and they hatch out their young. Turtles and crocodiles, they say, lay their eggs on land, bury them, and leave. So the young hatch and grow up by themselves. Hens and other birds look for a quiet place to lay their eggs. They build themselves nesting places and nests, and line them as softly as they can to keep the eggs as safe as possible. When they have hatched their chicks, they protect them, warming them with their wings so the cold will not hurt them, and shielding them from the sun when it is hot. When the chicks can use their little wings, the mothers go with them on their flights. Their other work of caring for them is over.”

[2.130]
“Human skill and care also help keep some animals and plants alive and well. Many farm animals and cultivated plants couldn’t survive without people looking after them.”

“Different places also offer different, very useful resources for human life and prosperity. The Nile waters Egypt. It keeps the land completely flooded and covered all summer, then retreats, leaving the fields soft and coated with silt, ready for sowing. The Euphrates makes Mesopotamia fertile. Every year it brings in what amounts to fresh farmland. The Indus, the largest of all rivers, doesn’t just enrich and soften the fields with water. It even sows them. It’s said to carry along a great quantity of seeds resembling grain.”

[2.131]
“I could mention many other remarkable things in different places, and many fertile fields producing different crops. And how generous nature is! It produces so many kinds of food, with so many different pleasant tastes. They don’t all come at one time of year, either. That way we always have both fresh variety and plenty to enjoy. Then consider the Etesian winds. How well timed they are, and how healthy—not just for humans, but for farm animals too, and indeed for everything that grows from the earth. Their breezes take the edge off excessive heat. Those same winds also give ships fast, reliable passages at sea. There’s much I have to leave out, though I’m still saying a great deal.”

[2.132]
“We cannot list all the uses of rivers, the tides †advancing and retreating over great distances, mountains covered in plants and woods, salt deposits far from the seashore, lands full of healing medicines, and, finally, the countless skills needed for food and life. Then the alternation of day and night preserves living things, giving one time for activity and another for rest.

“So from every side and by every line of reasoning, the conclusion is that divine intelligence and planning manage everything in this universe wonderfully, for the safety and preservation of all.”

[2.133]
“Suppose someone asks who all this vast construction was undertaken for. Was it for trees and plants? Nature does support them, even though they have no sensation. But that answer is absurd. Was it for animals? It’s no more believable that the gods went to so much trouble for creatures that can’t speak and understand nothing. Who, then, would anyone say the world was made for? Clearly, for living beings that use reason: gods and humans. Surely nothing is better than they are, since reason stands above everything else. So it becomes believable that the world, and everything in it, was made for gods and humans.”

“It will be easier to understand that the immortal gods have provided for humans if we examine the whole construction of a human being, and the entire shape and finished design of human nature.”

[2.134]
“An animal’s life depends on three things: food, drink, and breath. The mouth is perfectly suited to taking all of these in, with the adjoining nostrils giving extra help in breathing. The teeth set in the mouth chew the food, breaking it down and softening it. The sharp front teeth cut food into pieces with a bite. The back teeth, called molars, grind it up. The tongue also seems to help with this grinding.”

[2.135]
“The gullet joins the tongue at its roots. This is the first passage that things taken into the mouth slip into. It touches the tonsils on either side and ends at the very back and innermost part of the palate. The tongue stirs and moves, pushing the food down, almost shoving it in. Once the gullet receives it, it pushes it farther down. The parts below the food being swallowed widen, while those above it tighten.”

[2.136]
“But the windpipe—the doctors call it the ‘rough artery’—has its opening next to the roots of the tongue, a little above the point where the gullet joins the tongue. It reaches right down to the lungs. It receives the air drawn in by breathing, then lets that same air out again from the lungs. A sort of lid covers it. This was provided so that breathing wouldn’t be blocked if some food happened to fall into it. The stomach lies below the gullet and receives food and drink, while the lungs and heart draw breath from outside. The stomach has many wonderfully constructed features, made mostly of fibrous tissue. It has many folds and twists. Whatever it receives, dry or wet, it holds in and keeps there so it can be changed and digested. The stomach alternately tightens and loosens, pressing and mixing everything it has taken in. It contains a great deal of heat. That heat, the grinding of the food, and the action of breath make it easy for everything to be digested and processed, then distributed through the rest of the body. The lungs, meanwhile, have a porous structure and a softness like sponges, ideally suited to drawing in breath. They alternately contract as they breathe and expand †with breath, so that the food of life, which provides living creatures with their chief nourishment, is drawn in repeatedly.”

[2.137]
“The fluid that nourishes us separates from the rest of the food and seeps from the intestines—†the belly—to the liver. It travels along certain channels laid out from the middle of the intestine right to the liver’s ‘gates,’ as they’re called. These channels reach the liver and attach to it. From there, other channels […] extend, and the food flows down through them after leaving the liver. Once the bile and the fluids discharged from the kidneys have been separated from this food, the remainder turns into blood. It flows together at those same gates of the liver, where all its channels meet. The food passes along these channels and, at this very spot, pours into the vein called the hollow vein. It then travels through that vein to the heart, now fully processed and digested. From the heart it’s distributed throughout the body through a great many veins that reach every part.”

[2.138]
“It wouldn’t be very hard to explain how the intestines get rid of the leftover food by alternately tightening and loosening. Still, let’s pass over that, so the discussion doesn’t become unpleasant. Instead, let’s explain this incredible piece of nature’s construction. The air drawn into the lungs by breathing is warmed first by the breathing itself, then by contact with the lungs. Some of it is sent out again when we breathe out. Some is taken into a part of the heart called a ventricle. A second, similar chamber is attached to it, and blood from the liver flows into that chamber through the hollow vein just mentioned. From these chambers, then, blood spreads through the veins into the whole body, and breath spreads through the arteries. Both kinds of vessels form a dense, extensive network woven throughout the body. They bear witness to an incredible power of skilled, divine craftsmanship.”

[2.139]
“What about the bones? They support the body and have remarkable joints, suited to keeping it stable, defining its limbs, allowing movement, and carrying out every bodily action. Add to these the sinews, which hold the joints together, and their interwoven network extending throughout the body. Like the veins and arteries, they start from the heart and spread out through the whole body.”

[2.140]
“We can add many things to this account of nature’s careful, skillful planning. They show how great and exceptional the gods’ gifts to humans have been. To begin with, humans were raised up from the ground and made tall and upright, so they could look at the sky and gain knowledge of the gods. Humans come from the earth not simply to live and settle here, but to watch the things above us in the heavens. No other kind of animal gets to see that spectacle. The senses explain things to us and bring us reports. They’re wonderfully made and positioned to do their necessary jobs, up in the head as if in a fortress. The eyes, like lookouts, hold the highest position. From there they can see the most and carry out their task;

[2.141]
“And the ears are rightly placed high on the body, since they have to pick up sound, which naturally travels upward. The nostrils rightly point upward too, since every smell rises. And there’s a good reason they’re close to the mouth: they play a big part in judging food and drink. Taste needs to recognize the different things we eat, so it lives in the part of the mouth where nature has opened a route for food and drink. Touch, meanwhile, is spread evenly through the whole body. That lets us feel every blow and every excessive exposure to cold or heat. Architects keep a building’s necessarily foul discharges away from its owners’ eyes and noses. In the same way, nature has put similar things far away from the senses.”

[2.142]
“What craftsman could have designed the senses so skillfully, except nature? Nothing could be more ingenious. First, nature covered and enclosed the eyes in very thin membranes. It made these transparent so we could see through them, but strong enough to hold the eyes in place. It made the eyes smooth and movable, so they could turn away from anything harmful and easily look wherever they wanted. The part we actually see with, called the pupil, is so small that it can easily avoid things that might hurt it. The eyelids cover the eyes. They’re extremely soft to the touch, so they won’t hurt the pupil, and perfectly suited to covering it so nothing falls in, and then uncovering it again. Nature also arranged for this to happen over and over, extremely quickly.”

[2.143]
“The eyelids are defended by a sort of fence of hairs. When the eyes are open, these push back anything that might fall into them. When the eyes close in sleep and we do not need them for seeing, these hairs let them rest as though wrapped up. The eyes are also usefully set back and protected on every side by raised parts. First, the brows covering them above turn aside sweat flowing down from the head and forehead. Then the cheeks protect them from below, set beneath them and sticking out a little. The nose is placed so that it seems like a wall between the eyes.”

[2.144]
“Hearing is always open, because we need this sense even when asleep. When it receives a sound, it can even wake us from sleep. It has a winding passage, so nothing can get in, as it could if the opening were straight and direct. Nature has also arranged that any tiny creature trying to force its way in will stick in earwax, as though in birdlime. The parts we call ears stick out on the outside. They were made to cover and protect the organ of hearing, and to keep incoming voices from slipping away and scattering before they strike it. Their entrances are hard, almost like horn, and have many bends, because sound reflected by surfaces like these grows louder. That is why string instruments resonate through tortoise shell or horn, and why sounds come back louder from winding and enclosed places.”

[2.145]
“The nostrils, similarly, are always open because their work is essential. But their entrances are narrow, to keep anything harmful from getting through. They are always moist too, which is useful for keeping out dust and many other things. Taste is wonderfully protected. It is contained in the mouth, well placed both to do its work and to stay safe.

“All human senses are far better than those of animals. First, in the arts judged by sight—painted, modeled, and carved shapes—and even in bodily movements and gestures, the eyes see many finer points. They also judge the †beauty, order, and, so to speak, right arrangement of colors and shapes. And they judge greater things as well. They recognize good and bad qualities. They recognize someone who is angry or friendly, happy or grieving, brave or cowardly, bold or afraid.”

[2.146]
“The ears, too, have an amazing, finely developed ability to judge. They distinguish the variety of sounds, their intervals, and their separate notes, both in the voice and in music from pipes and strings. They also recognize many kinds of voice: ringing and husky, smooth and rough, low and high, flexible and stiff. Only human ears can judge these differences. The nose and the senses of taste and †to some extent touch also have great powers of judgment. People have invented even more crafts than I’d like for producing and fully enjoying these sensations. It’s obvious how far the blending of perfumes, the seasoning of food, and ways of making bodies alluring have gone.”

[2.147]
“Anyone who doesn’t see divine care at work in perfecting the human mind and intellect, reason, judgment, and practical wisdom seems to me to lack those very things. Cotta, I wish I had your eloquence while discussing this. How well you’d describe, first, our great capacity for understanding, and then our ability to connect and grasp what follows from our starting points. That’s how we judge what results from each thing and reach conclusions through reasoning. We define individual things and grasp them within clear boundaries. That shows us what knowledge can do and what it’s like. Even in a god, there’s nothing better. And what great abilities you Academics undermine and dismiss: we use both our senses and our minds to perceive and grasp things outside us,”

[2.148]
“and by bringing these perceptions together and comparing them, we also develop skills we need, some for everyday life and some for enjoyment. Then there’s the power of speech, which you like to call the ruler of everything. How wonderful it is, and how divine! First, it lets us learn what we don’t know and teach others what we do know. We use it to encourage; we use it to persuade. We use it to comfort people in distress; we use it to free terrified people from their fear. We use it to restrain people carried away with excitement; we use it to put out desire and anger. Speech has bound us together through shared rights, laws, and cities. Speech has taken us out of a savage, brutal way of life.”

[2.149]
“Unless you’ve looked closely, you wouldn’t believe how much equipment nature has put together to make speech possible. First, the windpipe runs from the lungs right up to the back of the mouth. Through it, the voice, which starts in the mind, is received and sent out. Then there’s the tongue, placed inside the mouth and bounded by the teeth. It shapes and controls the unchecked flow of the voice. By striking the teeth and other parts of the mouth, it makes vocal sounds distinct and clear. That’s why our people often compare the tongue to a pick, the teeth to strings, and the nostrils to the horns that resonate with the strings in music.”

[2.150]
“And what useful hands nature has given human beings, ready to serve so many skills! The fingers bend and straighten easily. Their supple connections and joints let them move effortlessly in every direction. By moving its fingers, the hand can paint, model, engrave, and draw sounds from strings and pipes. Those things provide enjoyment. Others meet our needs: I mean farming, putting up buildings, weaving or sewing coverings for our bodies, and every kind of work in copper and iron. So we can see how we’ve obtained everything we need. We’ve applied craftspeople’s hands to discoveries made by the mind and things perceived by the senses. That has given us shelter, clothing, and safety, along with cities, walls, homes, and shrines.”

[2.151]
“Human work—that is, our hands—also provides variety and abundance in food. The fields produce many things obtained by hand, either to be eaten at once or stored away for later use. We also eat animals of the land, water, and air, getting them partly by catching them and partly by raising them. By taming four-footed animals, we also make transport possible. Their speed and strength give us speed and strength. We load some beasts with burdens; we put them under the yoke. We use elephants’ very sharp senses and dogs’ ability to track for our own advantage. We draw iron out of the earth’s caverns, a material needed for farming. We find deeply hidden veins of copper, silver, and gold, useful for practical purposes and beautiful for decoration. We cut down trees and use every kind of timber, cultivated or wild. Some we burn to warm our bodies and soften our food; some we use for building, so that roofs over us can keep out cold and heat.”

[2.152]
“It is also extremely useful for building ships. Their voyages bring us all life’s supplies from every direction. Nature has produced nothing more violent than the sea and the winds, yet we alone can control them, thanks to our knowledge of navigation. We also enjoy and use a great many things from the sea. Human beings likewise have complete control over the benefits of the land. We enjoy the plains; we enjoy the mountains. The rivers are ours; the lakes are ours. We sow crops; we plant trees. We make the land fertile by bringing water to it. We hold rivers back, straighten their courses, and divert them. In short, with our own hands we try to create what amounts to a second nature within the natural world.”

[2.153]
“And hasn’t human reason reached right up into the sky? Alone among living creatures, we’ve learned when the stars rise and set and what courses they follow. Human beings have defined the day, the month, and the year. We’ve understood eclipses of the sun and moon and predicted them for all time to come: which will happen, how large they’ll be, and when they’ll occur. As the mind studies these things, it moves toward knowledge of the gods. That knowledge gives rise to religious devotion, which is joined with justice and the other virtues. From these comes a happy life, equal and similar to the life of the gods. It falls short of the gods in heaven only in immortality, which contributes nothing to living well.”

“Now that I’ve explained these things, I think I’ve shown well enough how far human nature surpasses all other living creatures. We should recognize, then, that neither the shape and arrangement of our limbs nor the power of our intelligence and mind could have been made what they are by chance.”

[2.154]
“What remains is to show, and at last to bring my speech to a close, that everything in this universe that human beings use was made and prepared for their sake.

“First, the universe itself was made for gods and humans, and the things in it were provided and brought into being for human benefit. The universe is a sort of shared home of gods and humans, or a city belonging to both. They alone use reason and live by justice and law. We should think of Athens and Sparta as founded for Athenians and Spartans. Everything in those cities is rightly said to belong to those peoples. In the same way, we should think that whatever is in the whole universe belongs to gods and humans.”

[2.155]
“Then there are the circuits of the sun, the moon, and the other stars. These help hold the universe together, but they also give human beings a spectacle to watch. There’s no sight we tire of less, none more beautiful, and none more outstanding in its rational order and skill. By measuring their courses, we’ve learned when the seasons arrive and how they differ and change. If only human beings know these things, we should conclude that they were made for human beings.”

[2.156]
“The earth is rich in crops and many kinds of legumes, which it pours out with immense generosity. Does it seem to produce them for wild animals or for human beings? And what should I say about vines and olive trees? Their abundant, flourishing fruits have nothing at all to do with animals. Livestock know nothing about planting or cultivation, harvesting and gathering produce at the right time, or storing it and putting it away. Human beings both use all these things and take care of them.”

[2.157]
“So, just as we must say that lyres and pipes were made for people who could use them, we must admit that the things I’ve mentioned were provided only for those who use them. If some animals steal or snatch something from them, we won’t say that these things grew for those animals too. People don’t store grain for mice or ants. They store it for their wives, children, and households. So, as I said, the animals enjoy it secretly, while the owners do so openly and freely;”

[2.158]
“We must therefore admit that these abundant resources were provided for human beings. Unless, perhaps, the great richness and variety of fruits, with their pleasing taste, smell, and appearance, make us doubt that nature gave them to people alone! These things are so far from being provided for animals as well that we can see the animals themselves were produced for human benefit. What else do sheep provide except wool to be worked and woven into clothing for people? Without human tending and care, they could not be fed, maintained, or made to yield any benefit. Dogs keep such faithful watch, show their owners such loving affection, hate strangers so much, have such an incredible sense of smell for tracking, and are so eager in the hunt. What else does this show but that they were born for human convenience?”

[2.159]
“What about oxen? Their backs alone show that they weren’t shaped to carry loads. Their necks, though, were made for a yoke, and their strong, broad shoulders for †pulling plows. In the golden age, as the poets call it, people used oxen to work the earth and break up its clods. They never used any violence against them:
Then suddenly a race of iron sprang up

and was the first to dare to forge a deadly sword

and taste the young ox its own hands had yoked and tamed:
People thought oxen were so useful that eating their flesh was considered a crime. It would take a long time to go through all the uses of mules and donkeys. Those uses were certainly provided for human benefit.”

[2.160]
“What does a pig offer besides food? Chrysippus actually says its soul was given to it as a kind of salt, to keep it from rotting. Since this animal was suitable for people to eat, nature made no farm animal more fertile. And what about the great numbers and delicious taste of fish and birds? They give us so much pleasure that our Pronoea sometimes seems to have been an Epicurean herself. Yet those birds couldn’t even be caught without human intelligence and ingenuity. Still, we think some birds were born to help us predict events: both those whose flight gives signs and those whose calls do, as our augurs classify them.”

[2.161]
“Then there are the huge, wild beasts we catch by hunting. We eat them, and hunting gives us practice similar to military training. We also tame and train them for use, as we do elephants. From their bodies we take many remedies for diseases and wounds, just as we do from certain plants and herbs. We’ve learned what these are good for through long experience and trial. We can survey the whole earth and all the seas with our minds, as though with our eyes. You’ll see vast stretches of productive farmland, mountains covered in dense growth, pastures for livestock, and then sea voyages made at incredible speed.”

[2.162]
“And not just on the earth’s surface, but also deep in its inner darkness lie hidden a great many useful things. They came into being for human use and are discovered by human beings alone.

“Both of you may seize on the following point to criticize it: you, Cotta, because Carneades enjoyed attacking the Stoics; you, Velleius, because Epicurus ridicules nothing so much as predictions of the future. Yet I think it gives the strongest support for the belief that the gods’ foresight looks after human affairs. Divination certainly exists. It appears in many places, circumstances, and times, in private affairs but above all in public ones.”

[2.163]
“People who examine sacrificial entrails see many things; augurs foresee many things. Much is revealed through oracles, much through prophecies, much through dreams, and much through portents. Understanding these signs has often brought about results <in line with> people’s wishes and interests, and has also kept many dangers away. So whatever this ability to know the future is—a power, an art, or a natural capacity—the immortal gods have certainly given it to human beings and no other creature.”

“Perhaps none of these points moves you on its own. Still, taken together, with all their connections and links, they certainly ought to have moved you.”

[2.164]
“The immortal gods regularly care and provide not just for the human race as a whole, but also for individuals. We can narrow down the whole human race, moving step by step to smaller groups and finally to individuals. Suppose, for the reasons we’ve already given, we think the gods care for all people everywhere, on any coast or in any region of lands cut off from the landmass we inhabit. Then they also care for the people who share these lands with us, from east to west.”

[2.165]
“And if they care for the people who inhabit what is, in effect, the great island we call the inhabited world, they also care for those who occupy its different parts: Europe, Asia, and Africa. So they care about parts of those regions too, such as Rome, Athens, Sparta, and Rhodes. And within those cities, they care about individuals separately from the population as a whole. During the war against Pyrrhus, for example, there were Curius, Fabricius, and Coruncanius; during the first Punic War, Calatinus, Duellius, Metellus, and Lutatius; during the second, Maximus, Marcellus, and Africanus. After them came Paulus, Gracchus, and Cato, and within our fathers’ memory, Scipio and Laelius. Our own country and Greece have produced many other outstanding men as well. We must believe that none of them could have become what he was without a god’s help.”

[2.166]
“This reasoning led poets, especially Homer, to assign particular gods to the leading heroes—Ulysses, Diomedes, Agamemnon, and Achilles—as companions in their crises and dangers. Besides, the gods have often appeared in person, as in the cases I mentioned earlier. These appearances show that they care for people both [in] communities and as individuals. We can also recognize this care in signs of future events, which appear to people both asleep and awake. We receive many warnings through unusual occurrences, many through sacrificial entrails, and many through other things. Long experience has recorded these in a way that has produced the art of divination.”

[2.167]
“So no great man has ever lived without some divine inspiration. Nor is this a valid way to argue against it: if a storm damages someone’s crops or vineyards, or chance takes away some of life’s comforts, we shouldn’t conclude that the person it happens to is hated or neglected by a god. The gods care about big things and ignore small ones. For great men, though, everything always turns out well—assuming our own school and Socrates, the leading figure in philosophy, have said enough about the abundance and wealth that virtue brings.”

[2.168]
“These are pretty much the points that came to mind which I thought I should make about the nature of the gods. Now, Cotta, if you take my advice, you will argue the same case. Remember that you are both a leading citizen and a priest. Since your school lets you argue either side, choose this side instead. Direct toward it that power of argument which you gained from rhetorical training and which the Academy has developed. The habit of arguing against the gods is bad and irreverent, whether you do it sincerely or only pretend.”

### Book 3

[3.1]
When Balbus finished, Cotta smiled and said, “Balbus, you’re rather late in telling me what to defend. While you were speaking, I was already working out my reply. My aim was not so much to refute you as to ask about things I didn’t fully understand. But we each have to use our own judgment. It’s hard for me to think just what you want me to.”

[3.2]
Then Velleius said, “Cotta, you have no idea how eagerly I’m waiting to hear you. Our friend Balbus enjoyed your attack on Epicurus. Now I’ll return the favor and listen carefully to your attack on the Stoics. I hope you’ve come as well prepared as usual.”

[3.3]
“By Hercules, I have, Velleius,” Cotta said. “My position with Lucilius isn’t the same as it was with you.”

“How is that?” he asked.

“Because your Epicurus doesn’t seem to put up much of a fight about the immortal gods. He simply doesn’t dare deny that gods exist, for fear of making enemies or facing a charge. But he insists that the gods do nothing and care about nothing. He says they have human limbs but make no use of them. He seems to be playing a game. He thinks it’s enough to say that some blessed and eternal nature exists.

[3.4]
“But you noticed, I think, how much Balbus had to say. Even if his arguments weren’t all true, they fitted together and formed a whole. So, as I said, I intend less to refute his speech than to ask about the things I didn’t quite understand. Balbus, I’ll leave the choice to you. Would you rather answer my questions one at a time about what I didn’t grasp, or hear my whole speech?”

Balbus replied, “If you want anything explained, I’d certainly rather answer. But if you’re questioning me to refute me rather than to understand me, I’ll do whichever you prefer. I’ll answer each question at once, or answer them all when you’ve finished.”

[3.5]
“Excellent,” Cotta said. “Then let’s follow the discussion wherever it takes us. But before we get to the subject, a few words about me. Your authority carries real weight with me, Balbus. So do your closing remarks, when you urged me to remember that I’m both Cotta and a pontiff. I assume you meant that I should defend the beliefs about the immortal gods that we inherited from our ancestors, along with our sacred rites, ceremonies, and religious practices. I’ll always defend them, and I always have. No argument from anyone, educated or not, will ever shake the beliefs I inherited about worshiping the immortal gods. But in religious matters, I follow the chief pontiffs Ti. Coruncanius, P. Scipio, and P. Scaevola—not Zeno, Cleanthes, or Chrysippus. And I’d rather listen to what C. Laelius, an augur and a wise man too, says about religion in that famous speech than to any leading Stoic. The Roman people’s religion as a whole falls into two parts: sacred rites and the taking of omens. There’s a third part as well: any warnings about the future that interpreters of the Sibyl or readers of sacrificial entrails have drawn from portents and unnatural occurrences. I’ve never thought any of these religious practices should be treated with contempt. I’m convinced that Romulus laid our state’s foundations by establishing the taking of omens, and Numa by establishing sacred rites. It could certainly never have become so great without securing the fullest favor of the immortal gods.”

[3.6]
“Now you know what Cotta thinks, and what a pontiff thinks, Balbus. Next, make me understand what you think. From you, a philosopher, I ought to get a reasoned account of religion. Our ancestors I must trust even when they give no reasons.”

“What reasoned account do you want from me, then, Cotta?” Balbus asked.

“You divided your subject into four parts,” he replied. “First you meant to show that gods exist, next what they are like, then that they govern the world, and last that they care for human affairs. That was your outline, if I remember correctly.”

“Quite correctly,” said Balbus. “But I’m waiting to hear your questions.”

[3.7]
“Let’s take each point in order,” Cotta said. “First comes something everyone agrees on, except the utterly irreligious: that gods exist. Nothing could burn that belief out of my heart. Still, although our ancestors’ authority has convinced me of it, you give me no explanation of why it is true.”

“If you’re convinced,” Balbus said, “why do you want me to teach you?”

“Because I’m approaching this discussion,” Cotta replied, “as though I’d never heard or thought anything about the immortal gods. Treat me as a beginner, a pupil with no prior views, and teach me what I ask.”

[3.8]
“Tell me, then,” he said, “what you want to ask.”

“First, why did you say so much on this very point? You said that [the clear point in] this part needed no argument, because it was clear and everyone agreed <that gods exist>.”

“Because I’ve noticed you too, Cotta,” he replied, “when speaking in court, piling as many arguments as you can on the judge, whenever your case gives you the chance. Philosophers do the same. I did it too, as well as I could. Your question is like asking me why I look at you with two eyes instead of closing one, when I could get the same result with just one.”

[3.9]
“You must judge how good that comparison is,” Cotta said. “In court, when something is clear and everyone agrees about it, I don’t usually argue for it. Arguments weaken what is self-evident. Even if I did that in legal cases, I wouldn’t do it in a discussion requiring this sort of precision. You’d have no reason to close one eye: both have the same view. Besides, nature, which you want to make wise, wanted us to have two openings running from the mind to the eyes, to let in light. No, you wanted to prove the gods’ existence with many arguments because you didn’t trust it to be as clear as you would like. For me, one thing was enough: our ancestors handed this belief down to us. But you set authority aside and fight with reasoning.

[3.10]
“So let my reasoning compete with yours.

“You put forward all these arguments for the gods’ existence. In my opinion, your arguments turn something not at all doubtful into a matter of doubt. I’ve remembered not only the number of your arguments but their order. The first was that, when we look up at the sky, we immediately realize that some divine power rules all this. That led to the line: ‘Look at this shining height above, which everyone calls Jupiter.’

[3.11]
“As if that’s what any of us means by Jupiter, rather than Jupiter on the Capitol! Or as if it were obvious, and everyone agreed, that those things are gods, when Velleius and plenty of others won’t even grant you that they’re alive. You also thought it was a weighty argument that everyone believes in the immortal gods and that this belief grows stronger every day. So you’re happy to let fools’ opinions settle questions this important? That’s especially strange coming from you people, who say those fools are insane. ‘But we see the gods in person: Postumius did at Lake Regillus, and Vatinius on the Salarian Road.’ There was something or other, too, about the Locrians’ battle at the Sagra. Now, you called these gods the Tyndaridae. In other words, they were human beings born to a human father. Homer, who lived not long after their time, says they were buried at Sparta. Yet you think they met Vatinius on white geldings, without any camp servants, and announced the Roman people’s victory to him? To Vatinius, a countryman, rather than M. Cato, the leading public figure at the time? Then do you also believe that the mark still visible in the flint at Lake Regillus, which looks like a hoofprint, was made by Castor’s horse?”

[3.12]
“Wouldn’t you rather believe something that can be established: that the souls of outstanding men, such as those Tyndaridae, are divine and eternal? Isn’t that better than believing that men who’d already been cremated could ride horses and fight in battle? If you say that was possible, you need to explain how. Don’t offer old women’s fairy tales.”

[3.13]
“Do you think they’re fairy tales?” Lucilius asked. “Don’t you see the temple in the forum dedicated to Castor and Pollux <by> A. Postumius? Don’t you see the senate’s decree about Vatinius? As for the Sagra, the Greeks even have a common saying about it. When they insist that something is true, they say it’s more certain than what happened at the Sagra. Shouldn’t authorities like these carry weight with you?”

“You’re fighting me with hearsay, Balbus,” Cotta said. “What I want from you is reasons […]
[…]
[…]
[…] follow what will happen;”

[3.14]
“because no one can escape what’s going to happen. Often, knowing the future isn’t even useful. It’s miserable to suffer without being able to do anything, without even hope—that last comfort, but one everyone shares. That’s especially true when you yourselves say everything happens by fate, and define fate as whatever has always been true for all eternity. What good does it do to know that something will happen? How does that help you guard against it, if it’s certain to happen anyway? And where does this divination come from? Who discovered the split in a liver? Who took note of a crow’s call, or of the drawing of lots? I believe in these things, and I can’t dismiss that curved staff of Attus Navius you mentioned. But I need philosophers to teach me how people came to understand these signs, especially since those diviners say so many things that aren’t true.”

[3.15]
“‘But doctors often make mistakes too’—that was what you said. What does medicine have in common with divination? I can see the reasoning behind medicine. I don’t understand where divination comes from. You also think the Decii appeased the gods by vowing to give their own lives. How could the gods have been so unfair that they wouldn’t be reconciled to the Roman people unless men like that died? That was a commander’s tactic, what the Greeks call a στρατήγημα. But it was the tactic of commanders who looked after their country and didn’t spare their own lives. They thought the army would follow a commander who spurred his horse and charged into the enemy. And that’s what happened. As for Faunus’s voice, I’ve certainly never heard it. If you say you’ve heard it, I’ll believe you, though I don’t know what Faunus actually is. So, Balbus, you still haven’t helped me understand that gods exist. I do believe they exist, but the Stoics teach me nothing about it.”

[3.16]
“As you said, Cleanthes thinks the idea of gods took shape in human minds in four ways. One was through foreknowledge of the future; I’ve said enough about that. The second was through storms and other violent disturbances. The third was through the usefulness and abundance of the things we receive. The fourth was through the orderly arrangement of the stars and the regularity of the sky. We’ve discussed foreknowledge. As for disturbances in the sky, sea, and land, we can’t deny that, when they happen, many people fear them and think the immortal gods cause them.

[3.17]
“But the question isn’t whether some people think gods exist. It’s whether gods exist or not. The other reasons Cleanthes gives concern, first, the abundance of benefits we receive, and second, the order of the seasons and the regularity of the sky. We’ll deal with those when we discuss the gods’ care for the world, about which you said so much, Balbus.

[3.18]
“We’ll also leave until that same discussion what you said Chrysippus argued: since there’s something in nature that a human being couldn’t make, there must be something better than a human being. We’ll leave your comparison between the beautiful things in a house and the beauty of the universe, too, along with your appeal to the harmony and agreement of the universe as a whole. Zeno’s short, rather clever arguments can also wait for the part of the discussion I just mentioned. At that same time, in their proper place, we’ll examine everything you said about nature: the power of fire and the heat from which you said everything is generated. I’ll also save for that discussion everything you said the day before yesterday when you wanted to prove that gods exist—your reasons for saying that the whole universe, the sun, the moon, and the stars have awareness and intelligence.”

[3.19]
“But I’ll keep asking you the same question, over and over: what reasons convince you that gods exist?”

“I think I’ve given my reasons,” Balbus replied. “But here’s how you refute them. You seem about to ask me a question, and I get ready to answer. Then you suddenly turn the discussion elsewhere and don’t give me a chance to respond. So some very important subjects have gone by without discussion: divination and fate. You touch on those questions briefly, while our school usually has a great deal to say about them. But they’re separate from the question we’re dealing with now. So, if you don’t mind, don’t mix things up. Let’s use this discussion to settle the question we’re asking.”

[3.20]
“Excellent,” Cotta said. “You divided the whole question into four parts, and we’ve discussed the first. So let’s consider the second. As I see it, when you set out to show what the gods are like, you ended up showing that there aren’t any. You said it was extremely hard to free the mind from its habit of relying on the eyes. But nothing is more excellent than a god, and nothing in nature is better than the universe. So you had no doubt that the universe was a god. We only needed to be able to think of it as alive—or rather, to see this with the mind, just as we see other things with our eyes.”

[3.21]
“But when you say nothing is better than the universe, what do you mean by ‘better’? If you mean more beautiful, I agree. If you mean better suited to our needs, I agree with that too. But if you mean nothing is wiser than the universe, I don’t agree at all. It’s not because I find it hard to turn my mind away from what my eyes see. The more I do that, the less I can grasp what you want me to think. ‘Nothing in nature is better than the universe.’ Well, nothing on earth is better than our city, either. Does that make you think our city has reason, thought, and intelligence? Or, since it doesn’t, do you think an ant should rank above this beautiful city? The city has no awareness, while the ant has not only awareness but intelligence, reason, and memory. You need to look at what I’m granting you, Balbus, not just assume whatever you want.”

[3.22]
“That whole argument grew out of Zeno’s old, short argument—the one you thought was so clever […]. Zeno reasons like this: ‘What uses reason is better than what doesn’t use reason. But nothing is better than the universe. So the universe uses reason.’”

[3.23]
“If you accept that, you’ll soon have the universe reading a book like an expert. Following Zeno’s lead, you can argue this way: ‘Something that can read is better than something that can’t. Nothing is better than the universe. So the universe can read.’ By that reasoning, it’s also a good speaker, a mathematician, and a musician. In fact, it’s trained in every branch of learning, and finally, it’s a philosopher. You’ve often said that nothing happens without a god, and that nature has no power to produce things unlike itself. Should I grant you that the universe isn’t just alive and wise, but also plays the lyre and the trumpet, since people with those skills are born from it too? So this founding father of the Stoics gives us no reason to think the universe uses reason, or even that it’s alive. The universe, then, isn’t a god. Still, nothing is better than it. Nothing is more beautiful, nothing is better for us, nothing is more splendid to look at or steadier in its movements.”

“If the universe as a whole isn’t a god, neither are the stars, those countless stars you included among the gods. Their steady, eternal courses delighted you. And rightly so, by Hercules: their regularity is amazing, almost beyond belief.”

[3.24]
“But, Balbus, not everything that follows a fixed, steady course should be credited to a god rather than to nature. What could be more regular, do you think, than the constant back-and-forth movement of the Euripus at Chalcis? What about the Sicilian strait? Or the surge of the Ocean in those places ‘where the sweeping wave divides Europe and Libya’? And the tides off Spain or Britain—can’t they come in or go out at fixed times without a god? Please consider this: if we call every movement divine, and everything that keeps to a regular schedule, won’t we also have to call fevers divine when they return every third or fourth day? What could be more regular than their return and their course? But we need to explain all such things;”

[3.25]
“and when you can’t do that, you run to a god as though taking refuge at an altar.”

“You also thought Chrysippus made a sharp argument. He was certainly a clever, shrewd man. By versutus, ‘clever,’ I mean people whose minds versantur, ‘turn,’ quickly; by callidus, ‘shrewd,’ those whose minds, through experience, have ‘become calloused’—concalluit—as hands do through work. Here’s what he says: ‘If there’s something a human being can’t make, whoever makes it is better than a human being. But a human being can’t make the things in the universe. So whoever could make them is superior to a human being. And who could be superior to a human being except a god? Therefore, a god exists.’ All of this involves the same mistake as Zeno’s arguments.”

[3.26]
“He doesn’t distinguish what ‘better’ or ‘superior’ means, or how nature differs from reason. This same man says that if there are no gods, nothing in all nature is better than a human being. Yet he thinks it’s the height of arrogance for any human to believe that nothing is better than a human. Granted, it may be arrogant to think you’re worth more than the universe. But there’s nothing arrogant about recognizing that you have senses and reason, while Orion and the Dog Star don’t. That’s good sense instead. He also says, ‘If a house is beautiful, we understand that it was built for its owners, not for mice. In the same way, we should think of the universe as the gods’ house.’ That’s exactly what I’d think—if I believed it had been built, rather than shaped by nature, as I’ll show.”

[3.27]
“‘But in Xenophon’s account,’ you say, ‘Socrates asks where we got our minds from, if there was no mind in the world.’ Well, I ask where we got speech, rhythm, and song. Unless we think the sun talks with the moon when it comes closer, or that the world sings in harmony, as Pythagoras believes! These are nature’s work, Balbus. Not a nature that ‘moves along like a skilled craftsman,’ as Zeno says—we’ll soon see what that means—but a nature that stirs and drives everything through its own movements and changes.

[3.28]
“So I liked your discussion of nature’s agreement and harmony. You said its parts were linked as if by kinship and worked together. What I didn’t accept was your claim that this couldn’t happen unless a single divine breath held it together. Nature holds together and lasts through natural forces, not through gods. It has that sort of harmony which the Greeks call ‘sympathy,’ a mutual response between its parts. But the greater that harmony is through nature’s own action, the less we should think divine planning produces it.

[3.29]
“And how do you answer these arguments that Carneades put forward? If no body is immortal, no body lasts forever. But no body is immortal, nor is any body indivisible or incapable of being split or pulled apart. Every living thing has a nature that can be affected. None can avoid taking something in from outside—that is, in a sense, having something done to it and being affected by it. If every living thing is like that, none is immortal. Likewise, if every living thing can be cut up and divided, none is indivisible and none is eternal. Yet every living thing is open to receiving and enduring an outside force. So every living thing must be mortal, capable of coming apart, and divisible.”

[3.30]
“Suppose all wax could change. Then nothing made of wax could be unchangeable. The same would hold for anything made of silver or bronze if silver and bronze were changeable by nature. So, in the same way, suppose all the things that are […]—the things everything is made of—can change. Then no body can be unchangeable. But the things everything is made of can change, according to you. So every body can change. Yet if any body were immortal, not every body could change. It follows that every body is mortal. After all, every body is water, air, fire, earth, or something made from these or from some part of them.”

[3.31]
“None of these is free from destruction. Everything made of earth can be divided. Liquid is so soft that it can easily be pressed and crushed. Fire and air are very easily displaced by any impact. Their nature is especially yielding and easily scattered. Besides, all these things cease to exist when they change into a different substance. That happens when earth turns into water, water gives rise to air, and air to the upper fire, and when these same changes take place in reverse. If <it’s true that> the things that make up every living being perish, no living being lasts forever.

[3.32]
“And even if we set these points aside, no living thing can be found that has never been born and will go on existing forever. Every living thing has senses. So it feels hot and cold, sweet and bitter. It can’t take in pleasant things through any sense without also taking in their opposites. So if it can feel pleasure, it can feel pain too. And anything that can suffer pain must also be capable of destruction. We must therefore admit that every living thing is mortal. Besides, anything that feels neither pleasure nor pain can’t be a living thing;”

[3.33]
“But if it is a living being, it must feel them. And what feels them can’t be eternal. Every living being feels them. Therefore no living being is eternal. Besides, there can be no living being without natural attraction and avoidance. Things in keeping with its nature attract it; it avoids their opposites. Every living being seeks some things and flees others. What it flees is against its nature. What is against its nature has the power to destroy it. Therefore every living being must perish.

[3.34]
“There are countless ways to establish and prove that nothing with senses can escape destruction. The very things we feel—like cold, like heat, <like> pleasure, like pain, and like the rest—kill us when they become intense. No living thing is without senses. So no living thing is eternal. A living thing must either have a simple nature, consisting of earth, fire, air, or moisture—we can’t even understand what such a thing would be like—or be made of several kinds of matter. Each of these has its own place, which nature’s force carries it toward: one to the bottom, another to the top, another to the middle. They can hold together for a time, but there’s no way they can do so forever. Nature must pull each to its own place. So no living thing lasts forever.”

[3.35]
“But your school, Balbus, usually traces everything to the power of fire. In this you follow Heraclitus, I think. People don’t all interpret even him the same way. †Since he didn’t want what he said to be understood†, let’s leave him aside. You say that every active force is fire. So living beings die when their heat fails, and throughout nature what has heat has life and strength. But I don’t see why bodies should die when their heat goes out, yet not die when they lose moisture or breath—especially since too much heat kills them too.

[3.36]
“So that point about heat is common ground. Still, let’s see where the argument ends. Your position, I think, is that in nature and the world outside us, nothing is alive except fire. Why fire rather than breath? Breath also makes up the mind of living things, and its name, anima, gives us the word animal. And how can you take it for granted that the mind is nothing but fire? It seems more likely that the mind is something like a blend of fire and breath. ‘But if fire is itself alive, without any other kind of matter mixed into it, then it can’t lack sensation. After all, when it’s in our bodies, it makes us feel.’ We can repeat the same answer: whatever has senses must feel both pleasure and pain, and whatever can suffer pain can also suffer destruction. So you can’t establish that even fire is eternal.”

[3.37]
“What’s more, don’t you yourselves hold that all fire needs food and can’t possibly last unless it’s fed? And that the sun, moon, and other stars feed on water, some on fresh water, others on seawater? Cleanthes gives this as the reason the sun turns back instead of going beyond the circle of the summer solstice, and likewise the winter solstice: it mustn’t get too far from its food. We’ll examine that whole account shortly. For now, let’s settle this conclusion: anything that can perish isn’t eternal by nature. Fire will perish unless it’s fed. So fire isn’t everlasting by nature.”

[3.38]
“And what sort of god can we imagine who has no virtue? Shall we give a god practical wisdom? That consists in knowing what is good, what is bad, and what is neither. If nothing bad affects him or ever can, why does he need to distinguish good from bad? Why does he need reasoning or understanding? We use those to work from what is clear to what is hidden. But nothing can be hidden from a god. And what has justice, which gives each their due, to do with the gods? As you say yourselves, justice arose from human association and community. Self-control consists in passing over bodily pleasures. If there is a place for it in heaven, there is also a place for pleasures. And how can we imagine a brave god? Brave in pain, in hard work, or in danger?

[3.39]
“none of which applies to a god. So how can we conceive of a god who neither uses reason nor has any virtue?”

“And I can’t look down on the ignorance of ordinary, uneducated people when I consider what the Stoics say. Here are things uneducated people do: the Syrians worship a fish, and the Egyptians have made nearly every kind of animal sacred. In Greece, they count many former humans as gods: Alabandus at Alabanda, Tenes at Tenedos, and, throughout Greece, Leucothea, who was once Ino, and her son Palaemon. Then there are Hercules, Aesculapius, the sons of Tyndareus, our own Romulus, and many others. People think they’ve been admitted to heaven like new citizens added to the rolls.”

[3.40]
“So that’s what uneducated people say. What better ideas do you philosophers have? I’ll pass over those other claims—they’re splendid, of course. Let’s grant that the world itself is a god. I suppose this is that ‘shining height above, whom everyone calls on as Jupiter.’ Why add more gods, then? And what a crowd there is! There certainly seem to be plenty to me. You count every individual star as a god. You name these gods either after animals, like the Goat, the Scorpion, the Bull, and the Lion, or after lifeless things, like the Argo, the Altar, and the Crown.”

[3.41]
“But suppose we grant all that. How can the rest possibly be accepted—or even understood? When we call grain Ceres and wine Liber, we’re using ordinary figures of speech. But do you think anyone is crazy enough to believe that what he eats is a god? As for those you say became gods after being human, you explain how that could have happened or why it stopped happening. I’ll gladly learn. As things stand, though, I don’t see how the man to whom ‘torches were applied on Mount Oeta,’ as Accius says, could have gone from that blaze ‘to his father’s eternal home.’ And yet Homer has Ulysses meet him in the underworld, just like the others who had died.”

[3.42]
“Still, I’d very much like to know which Hercules we’re supposed to worship. People who dig into obscure, little-known writings tell us there were several. The oldest was Jupiter’s son—but the oldest Jupiter’s son, since we also find several Jupiters in early Greek writings. That Jupiter and Lysithoe were the parents of the Hercules who, we’re told, fought Apollo over the tripod. Another is said to have been an Egyptian, the son of Nile, who supposedly put the Phrygian writings together. The third is one of the Idaean Dactyls. People bring him offerings for the dead †to whom. The fourth is the son of Jupiter <and> Asteria, Latona’s sister. He’s worshiped especially at Tyre, and Carthage is said to be his daughter. The fifth is in India and is called Belus. The sixth is this familiar Hercules, whom Jupiter fathered by Alcmena—but that was the third Jupiter. As I’ll soon show, we’ve been told of several Jupiters too.”

[3.43]
“Now that my argument has brought me here, I’ll show that I’ve learned better lessons about worshiping the immortal gods from the rules for our priests and our ancestors’ customs—from these little cups Numa left us, which Laelius discusses in that little gem of a speech—than from Stoic arguments. If I follow your teachings, tell me how to answer someone who asks me this: ‘If there are gods […], are the Nymphs goddesses too? If the Nymphs are, so are the little Pans and the Satyrs. But those aren’t gods, so the Nymphs aren’t [goddesses] either. Yet temples have been publicly promised and dedicated to them. Then the other gods with dedicated temples aren’t gods either. Now take this further. You count Jupiter and Neptune as gods. That makes their brother Orcus a god too. We must also consider the rivers said to flow in the underworld gods—Acheron, Cocytus, and Pyriphlegethon—and then Charon and Cerberus.’”

[3.44]
“‘But we have to reject that. Then Orcus isn’t a god either. So what do you say about his brothers?’ Carneades used to make these arguments, not to do away with the gods—what could be less fitting for a philosopher?—but to prove that the Stoics explained nothing about them. So he kept pressing: ‘If these brothers belong among the gods, can anyone deny that their father Saturn does too? People generally worship him most in the west. If he’s a god, we must admit that his father, Caelus (Heaven), is also a god. In that case, Caelus’s parents, Aether, the upper air, and Dies (Day), must count as gods too, along with their brothers and sisters. The ancient writers on divine family trees give these names: Love, Deceit, †Measure, Work, Envy, Fate, Old Age, Death, Darkness, Misery, Complaint, Favor, Fraud, Stubbornness, the Fates, the Hesperides, and Dreams. They say all these were born to Erebus and Night. So either we must accept these monsters or we must give up the gods we started with.’”

[3.45]
“What? Will you say Apollo, Vulcan, Mercury, and the rest are gods, but have doubts about Hercules, Aesculapius, Liber, Castor, and Pollux? Yet people worship these just as much as those others, and some people worship them far more. So we must count these sons of mortal mothers as gods. What about Aristaeus, Apollo’s son, who is said to have discovered the olive? What about Theseus, Neptune’s son, and the others whose fathers were gods? Won’t they belong among the gods? And those whose mothers were goddesses? I’d think their claim was even stronger. Just as [under] civil law a person whose mother is free is free, so under natural law someone whose mother is a goddess must be a god. That’s why the islanders of Astypalaea worship Achilles with such devotion. If he’s a god, Orpheus and Rhesus are gods too, since each had a Muse for his mother. Unless, of course, marriages at sea count for more than marriages on land. If these aren’t gods because no one worships them anywhere, how can those others be gods?”

[3.46]
“So consider whether these honors reward people’s good qualities rather than their immortality. You seemed to be saying that yourself, Balbus. But if you think Latona is a goddess, how can you deny that Hecate is one? Her mother is Asteria, Latona’s sister. Or is she a goddess too? We’ve certainly seen her altars and shrines in Greece. But if she’s a goddess, why not the Eumenides? If they’re goddesses—they have a shrine in Athens, and here, as I understand it, the grove of Furina—then the Furies are goddesses. I suppose they watch for criminal acts and wickedness and punish them.”

[3.47]
“If gods of this kind exist and take part in human affairs, we must also consider Natio a goddess. We regularly offer her a sacrifice when we make the circuit of shrines in the countryside around Ardea. Her name, Natio, comes from those being born, since she watches over married women in childbirth. If she’s a goddess, all those you mentioned are gods: Honor, Good Faith, Mind, and Harmony. Then Hope and Moneta are too, along with everything we can dream up in our own minds. If that isn’t plausible, neither is the starting point these ideas came from. And tell me this: if the gods we’ve inherited and worship really are gods, why shouldn’t we put Serapis and Isis in the same class? If we do that, why reject the gods of foreign peoples? Then we’ll add cattle and horses to the gods, ibises and hawks, asps, crocodiles, and fish, dogs, wolves, and cats, and plenty of other animals. If we reject these, we’ll also reject the beliefs they came from.”

[3.48]
“What next? Will Ino count as a goddess, called Leucothea, ‘White Goddess,’ by the Greeks and Matuta by us, though she’s Cadmus’s daughter? Yet Circe, Pasiphae, and Aeetes won’t belong among the gods, though their mother was Perseis, Oceanus’s daughter, and their father was Sun? Besides, our colonists at Circeii worship Circe devoutly too. So you count her as a goddess. What answer will you give Medea? Her two <divine> grandfathers were Sun and Oceanus, her father was Aeetes, and her mother was Idyia. And what about her brother Absyrtius? Pacuvius calls him Aegialeus, but the older writings more often use the other name. If these aren’t gods, I’m worried about what will become of Ino. All these claims flow from the same source.”

[3.49]
“Or will Amphiaraus and Trophonius be gods? When land belonging to the immortal gods in Boeotia was exempted under the censors’ rules, our tax contractors denied that anyone who had once been human was immortal. But if these are gods, Erechtheus certainly is. We’ve seen both his shrine and his priest in Athens. If we make him a god, how can we have any doubts about Codrus, or about the others who fell fighting for their country’s freedom? But if that isn’t convincing, we shouldn’t accept the earlier claims these conclusions come from either.”

[3.50]
“And in most communities, you can see why brave men have been remembered with honors paid to immortal gods. It was a way to encourage courage, so that the best citizens would be more willing to face danger for their country. That’s precisely why Erechtheus and his daughters rank as gods at Athens. Athens also has a shrine to the daughters of Leos, called the Leocorion. The people of Alabanda actually show more devotion to Alabandus, their city’s founder, than to any of the famous gods. While visiting them, Stratonicus made one of his many witty remarks. Someone kept pestering him, insisting that Alabandus was a god and Hercules wasn’t. ‘Then,’

[3.51]
“he said, ‘let Alabandus be angry with me, and Hercules with you.’ But Balbus, you don’t see how far your arguments about the sky and stars can spread. You say the sun and moon are gods. The Greeks identify the sun with Apollo and the moon with Diana. But if the moon is a goddess, Lucifer and the other wandering stars will have to count as gods too. So will the fixed stars. And why shouldn’t the rainbow we see count as a god? It’s beautiful. Because of its appearance, and because something wonderful produces it, it’s said to have been born to Thaumas. If the rainbow has a divine nature, what will you do with clouds? After all, a rainbow forms when clouds take on certain colors. One cloud is even said to have given birth to the Centaurs. If you admit clouds among the gods, you’ll certainly have to admit storms. The Roman people have consecrated them in their religious rites. So rain, rain clouds, gales, and whirlwinds must be considered gods. Our own commanders have regularly sacrificed an animal to the waves when setting out to sea.

[3.52]
“Now, if Ceres gets her name from gerere, ‘bearing,’ as you said, the earth itself is a goddess. People do regard it that way: what else is Tellus? But if the earth is a god, the sea is too. You said the sea was Neptune. Then rivers and springs must be gods as well. That’s why Masso dedicated a shrine to Fons after coming back from Corsica. And in the augurs’ prayer we find Tiberinus, Spino, Anemo, Nodinus, and other names of nearby rivers. So either this will spread without any limit, or we won’t accept any of these things. We can’t approve that endless line of superstitious reasoning. That means we shouldn’t accept any of these things as gods.

[3.53]
“So, Balbus, we must also argue against those who say that the gods we all worship with such reverence and devotion were raised from human life to heaven in people’s beliefs, not in fact. To begin with, the people called theologians count three Jupiters. The first two were born in Arcadia. The first had Aether as his father and is also said to have fathered Proserpina and Liber. The second had Caelus as his father. He’s said to have fathered Minerva, whom they describe as the first to practice war and its inventor. The third was from Crete, a son of Saturn. His tomb is shown on that island. The Greeks also give different accounts of the Dioscuri, the sons of Jupiter. The first group consists of three, called the Anactes, ‘Lords,’ at Athens: Tritopatreus, Eubuleus, and Dionysus. Their parents were the most ancient King Jupiter and Proserpina. The second group, Castor and Pollux, were born to the third Jupiter and Leda. Some give the names of the third group as Alco, Melampus, and †Euiolus. They were sons of Atreus, whose father was Pelops.

[3.54]
“Then there are the Muses. The first group numbered four, [born] to the second Jupiter: †born and Thelxinoe†, Aoede, Arche, Melete. The second group numbered nine, born to the third Jupiter and Mnemosyne. The third were born [to the third Jupiter], to Pierus and Antiope. Poets commonly call them the Pierides or Pieriae. They have the same names and number as the group just before them. And although you say the Sun, Sol, got his name because he is solus, ‘alone,’ look how many Suns the theologians produce! One was a son of Jupiter and a grandson of Aether. Another was a son of Hyperion. A third was a son of Vulcan, himself a son of the Nile. The Egyptians say his city is the one called Heliopolis. The fourth is said to have been born to Acantho on Rhodes in the heroic age. He was the <father> of Ialysus, Camirus, and Lindus, from whom the Rhodians come. The fifth is said to have fathered Aeetes and Circe in Colchis. There are several Vulcans too:

[3.55]
“the first was a son of Caelus. He and Minerva were the parents of the Apollo whom ancient historians regarded as Athens’ protector. The second was born [in] the Nile. The Egyptians call him Opas and regard him as Egypt’s guardian. The third was born to the third Jupiter and Juno. He’s said to have run the forge on Lemnos. The fourth was a son of Maemalius. He ruled the islands near Sicily that used to be called the Vulcanian Islands.

[3.56]
“One Mercury had Caelus as his father and Dies as his mother. His penis is said to have become obscenely erect because the sight of Proserpina excited him. Another, the son of Valens and Phoronis, is thought to live underground and is identified with Trophonius. A third was born to the third Jupiter and Maia. He and Penelope are said to have been Pan’s parents. The fourth had the Nile as his father. The Egyptians consider it wrong to speak his name. The fifth is worshipped by the people of Pheneus. He’s said to have killed Argus and fled to Egypt because of it, then given the Egyptians laws and writing. The Egyptians call him Theyt. Their first month of the year has that same name.

[3.57]
“The first Aesculapius was a son of Apollo and is worshipped by the Arcadians. He’s said to have invented the surgical probe and to have been the first to bandage a wound. The second was the brother of the second Mercury. He’s said to have been struck by lightning and buried at Cynosurae. The third was a son of Arsippus and Arsinoe. They say he first discovered how to purge the bowels and pull teeth. His tomb and sacred grove are shown in Arcadia, not far from the river Lusius. The oldest Apollo is the one I mentioned a little earlier, Vulcan’s son and the guardian of Athens. Another was a son of Corybas, born in Crete. He’s said to have fought Jupiter himself for possession of that island. A third was born to the third Jupiter and Latona. They say he came to Delphi from the Hyperboreans. A fourth was born in Arcadia. The Arcadians call him Nomion, from nomos, ‘law,’ because they say they got their laws from him.

[3.58]
“There are several Dianas as well. The first was born to Jupiter and Proserpina and is said to have given birth to the winged Cupid. The second is better known. We’ve been told that her parents were the third Jupiter and Latona. The third is said to have had Upis as her father and Glauce as her mother. The Greeks often call her Upis, using her father’s name. We have many gods called Dionysus. The first was born to Jupiter and Proserpina. The second was a son of the Nile and is said to have killed Nysa. The third had Cabirus as his father. They say he ruled Asia as its king, and the Sabazia festival was established for him. The fourth was born to Jupiter and Luna. The Orphic rites are believed to be performed in his honor. The fifth was born to Nysus and Thyone. He’s thought to have established the festivals held every third year.

[3.59]
“The first Venus was born to Caelus and Dies. We’ve seen her shrine at Elis. The second sprang from foam. We’ve been told that she and Mercury were the parents of the second Cupid. The third was born to Jupiter and Dione and married Vulcan. But she’s said to have had Anteros by Mars. The fourth was conceived in Syria and Cyprus. She’s called Astarte and is said to have married Adonis. The first Minerva is the one we mentioned earlier as Apollo’s mother. The second was born to the Nile and is worshipped by the Egyptians of Sais. The third is the one we said earlier was fathered by Jupiter. The fourth was born to Jupiter and Coryphe, a daughter of Oceanus. The Arcadians call her Κορίαν and say she invented four-horse chariots. The fifth was a daughter of Pallas. She’s said to have killed her father when he tried to violate her virginity. She’s given winged sandals to wear.

[3.60]
“The first Cupid is said to have been born to Mercury and the first Diana. The second was born to Mercury and the second Venus. The third, who is also Anteros, was born to Mars and the third Venus. These stories <and others> like them have been collected from the old traditions of Greece. You understand that they must be challenged if religious beliefs aren’t to become confused. But your people don’t just fail to reject them. They actually support them by explaining what each detail stands for.

“But let’s return now to the point we left when we went off on this discussion. Do you really think we need a more intricate argument to refute these ideas?”

[3.61]
“We see that intelligence, faithfulness, hope, virtue, honor, victory, safety, concord, and other such things are things, not gods. Either they are in us—like intelligence, hope, faithfulness, virtue, and concord—or we have to wish for them—like honor, safety, and victory. I see how useful these things are. I also see the statues dedicated to them. But why they should contain divine power I will understand when I’ve been taught it. Fortune especially belongs in this class. No one can separate her from inconsistency and blind chance, which certainly aren’t worthy of a god.

[3.62]
“Now why do you enjoy explaining myths and unraveling names so much? Caelus was castrated by his son, and Saturn too was tied up by his son. You defend these stories and others like them in a way that makes the people who invented them look not just sane but wise. And the effort you put into explaining names is pitiful: ‘Saturnus, because he saturat, fills himself with years; Mavors, because he magna vertit, overturns mighty things; Minerva, because she minuit, diminishes, or minatur, threatens; Venus, because she venit, comes to everything; Ceres, from gerendo, carrying.’ What a dangerous habit! Plenty of names will leave you stuck. What will you do with Veiovis? What about Vulcan? Still, since you think Neptune gets his name from nando, ‘swimming,’ you’ll be able to explain the origin of any name from a single letter. But in that explanation, you seemed to be floundering more than Neptune himself.”

[3.63]
“First Zeno, then Cleanthes, then Chrysippus took on a great and quite unnecessary burden: to give rational accounts of made-up myths, and explain why each name was given. When you do this, you certainly admit that the facts are very different from what people think. The things called gods are natural substances, not divine persons. The mistake went so far that even harmful things not only received divine names but had rites established for them. We see a shrine to Fever on the Palatine, <one to Orbona, Bereavement, at> the temple of the Lares, and an altar to Bad Fortune consecrated on the Esquiline.

[3.64]
“So let’s drive every mistake of this kind out of philosophy. When we discuss the immortal gods, let’s say things worthy of them. I have my own views about them, but I can’t find anything in yours to agree with. You say Neptune is a mind with intelligence extending throughout the sea. You say the same about Ceres. But I can’t grasp this intelligence of the sea or the earth. I can’t even form a faint idea of it. So I have to look elsewhere to learn both that gods exist and what they’re like, the kind you want them to be […].”

[3.65]
“[…] Let’s look at what comes next. First, <do> the gods govern the world through wise planning? Second, do they look after human affairs? Those are the two parts of your outline I still have to deal with. If you all agree, I think we should discuss them more closely.”

“I certainly agree,” said Velleius. “I’m expecting even more important things, and I strongly agree with what’s been said.”

Then Balbus said, “I don’t want to interrupt you, Cotta. We’ll find another time. I’ll certainly get you to admit it. But […]”

“[…]
Cicero — — reports that, although he had said many things that could undermine religious practices, [Cotta] nevertheless held that these matters shouldn’t be debated in public, so that a debate of this kind wouldn’t wipe out the religious practices the community had adopted (Lact. Inst. 2.3.2)”

“[…]
For, to begin with, we can’t be brought to believe that this immortal, supremely excellent nature is divided into sexes — — above all, Tullius — — without fearing any accusation of irreverence — — showed with greater reverence what he thought about such a belief (Arnob. Nat. 3.6)”

“[…]
whether the gods govern the world through wise planning (v. 5)”

“[…] about the abundance of benefits we enjoy”

“[…] about the orderly succession of seasons and the regularity of the heavens”

“[…] about Chrysippus’s arguments, about comparing a beautiful house with the beauty of the world, about the harmony and agreement of the whole world, about Zeno’s conclusions”

“[…] about the power of fire and the heat from which everything is generated”

“[…] whether the whole world, the sun, the moon, and the stars have sensation and a mind; about the heavenly bodies needing food”

“[…] about nature proceeding with skill”

“[…] the world wasn’t built but was shaped by nature
[…]”

“First, then, it isn’t likely that divine foresight made the material from which everything came. Rather, that material has its own power and nature, and had them in the past. When a builder is about to build something, he doesn’t make the material himself. He uses what’s ready for him. A sculptor does the same with wax. In the same way, this divine foresight must have had material available—not material it made itself, but material already at hand. But if a god didn’t make matter, then a god didn’t make earth, water, air, or fire either.
[…]”

“Why, if a god made everything for human beings, do we find so many things both at sea and on land that work against us, harm us, <and> kill us? [10] The Stoics failed to see the truth and gave a thoroughly foolish answer to this. They say that many plants and animals have uses we haven’t discovered yet. In time, they say, we’ll find those uses, just as need and experience have already discovered many things unknown in earlier ages. [11] But what possible use can we find in mice, cockroaches, and snakes, which trouble and harm human beings? Is some medicine hidden in them? If there is, let it be discovered someday. It will still be a remedy against harm, when the very complaint is that harm exists at all. [12] They say a viper burned down to ashes cures a bite from that same kind of creature. How much better it would’ve been if the creature hadn’t existed at all, instead of our having to look to it for a remedy against itself. (Lact. ira 13.9-12)

“[…]
A god either wants to remove evils and can’t, or can and doesn’t want to, or neither wants to nor can, or both wants to and can. [21] If he wants to and can’t, he’s weak, which can’t be true of a god. If he can and doesn’t want to, he’s spiteful, which is just as foreign to a god. If he neither wants to nor can, he’s both spiteful and weak, and so isn’t a god at all. If he both wants to and can—the only possibility that suits a god—then where do evils come from, or why doesn’t he remove them? (Lact. ira 13.20-21)

[…]
human beings surpass all animals (Diom. GL. 1.313.10)

“[…]”

“human beings surpass all animals
[…]”

“That won’t work that way at all; there’s a great struggle ahead.

“For me to beg him with all that sweet talk,

unless I had something to gain:”

[3.66]
“Does she seem short on reasoning, as she plots a wicked disaster for herself? And how cunningly reasoned is this:
If you want what you want, things will turn out as you work for them.
That line is the seed of every evil.
Distracted, today he handed me the bars,

with which I’ll let all my anger loose and bring ruin on him:

grief for me, mourning for him; destruction for him, exile for me.
Beasts certainly don’t have this reason, which you say the gods gave as a favor to human beings alone.

[3.67]
“So do you see how great a gift we’ve received from the gods? And the same Medea, fleeing her father and her country,
after her father

comes close and is almost ready to seize her,

meanwhile kills the boy and cuts his body apart, limb by limb,

and scatters it all over the fields. She does this

so that, while the father gathers his son’s scattered limbs,

she can escape, and grief can slow his pursuit,

so that murdering her own kin can bring her safety.

[3.68]
“She had no lack of reason, any more than she lacked wickedness. And the man preparing that deadly meal for his brother—isn’t he turning his reasoning this way and that in his mind?
I must build a greater weight of trouble, stir up a greater evil,

to crush and break his bitter heart.
Nor should we pass over that other man himself,
who wasn’t content to lure a wife into adultery.
Atreus speaks rightly and truly about him:
What I consider the greatest danger at the highest level of power

is that royal mothers are defiled,

the line corrupted, the blood mixed.
Yet how cunningly he acted, seeking a kingdom through adultery:
‘I add to this that the father of the gods sent me a sign,

a marvel to secure my reign:

a lamb among my flocks, shining with golden fleece,

which Thyestes once dared steal from the palace,

[in] this matter he took my wife as his helper.’

[3.69]
“Doesn’t he seem to have used the greatest wickedness along with the greatest powers of reasoning? The stage isn’t the only place filled with these crimes. Everyday life is full of almost greater ones. Every household feels it; so do the courts, the Senate house, the electoral field, our allies, and our provinces. Just as reason is used for right action, it is used for wrongdoing. The first happens rarely and among few people; the second happens all the time and among very many. It would have been better for the immortal gods to give us no reason at all than to give it with so much harm. Wine rarely helps the sick and very often harms them. So it’s better not to give it at all than to run into obvious danger in the hope of an uncertain cure. In the same way, I wonder whether it would have been better for the human race not to receive at all that quick movement of thought, that sharpness and cleverness we call reason, rather than to receive it so generously and freely. It destroys many and benefits very few.

[3.70]
“So if the divine mind and will looked after human beings by giving them reason, it looked after only those it gave good reason to. We can see that there are very few such people, if there are any at all. But you won’t accept that the immortal gods looked after only a few people. It follows, then, that they looked after no one.”

“Here’s your usual answer to this point: the gods haven’t failed to provide for us in the best possible way just because many people misuse their gift. Plenty of people misuse their inheritances too, but that doesn’t mean their fathers gave them no benefit. Does anyone deny that? But how are the two cases alike? Deianira didn’t mean to hurt Hercules when she gave him the tunic soaked in the Centaur’s blood. And the man whose sword opened Jason of Pherae’s abscess, which the doctors couldn’t cure, didn’t mean to help him. Many people have helped when they meant to hurt, and hurt when they meant to help. So what someone gives doesn’t reveal what they intended by giving it. And just because the person receiving something uses it well, that doesn’t mean the giver gave it out of friendship.”

[3.71]
“What act of lust or greed, what crime, is undertaken without a plan? Or carried out without mental activity and thought—that is, without reasoning? Every opinion involves reason. If the opinion is true, it’s good reasoning; if false, bad reasoning. But all we get from a god, if we get it at all, is reason. Whether that reason is good or bad comes from us. Reason isn’t a gift the gods give human beings in the way a father leaves an inheritance. If the gods had wanted to hurt human beings, what better gift could they have given? And where would the seeds of injustice, lack of self-control, and cowardice be if reason didn’t lie behind those vices?”

“We just mentioned Medea and Atreus, characters from heroic stories who work out and weigh their plans as they plot appalling crimes.”

[3.72]
“What about the frivolous plots of comedy? Aren’t they always based on reasoning? Doesn’t that young man in The Eunuch argue cleverly enough?
What am I to do, then?

“She shut me out and calls me back. Go back? Not if she begs me.
And in The Young Comrades, another character doesn’t hesitate to use reason against common opinion, just as the Academics do. He says that, when you’re deeply in love and have no money, it’s pleasant
to have a father who is greedy, unkind to his children,

hard to deal with, who doesn’t love you or care about you,

[3.73]
“And he supports this unbelievable view with little arguments:
Either cheat him out of his income, or use the account books

to divert a payment, or use a slave boy

to scare money out of him. After all, money from a stingy father

is so much more fun to throw away;
and he argues that an easygoing, generous father is a nuisance to a son in love:
How I can fool him, what I can get out of him,

what trick or scheme I can cook up against him—

“I’ve got no idea. Every plot, every lie,

every sleight of hand—my father’s kindness has shut them all down.
So could those plots, schemes, lies, and tricks have existed without reason? What a splendid gift from the gods! It lets Phormio say:
Bring on the old man! I’ve already got every plan ready in my mind.”

[3.74]
“But let’s leave the theater and go to the forum. The praetor takes his seat. What’s the case about? Who set fire to the public records office? What crime could be more secret? Yet Quintus Sosius, a distinguished Roman knight from Picenum, admitted doing it. Who altered the public records? Lucius Alenus did that too, by copying the handwriting of the six leading officials. Could anyone be more ingenious? Look at the other investigations: the gold from Tolosa and the Jugurthine conspiracy. Go back further, to Tubulus taking money to decide a lawsuit. Then come forward to the investigation into sexual offenses under Peducaeus’s bill. Then there are the everyday cases: murder, poisoning, theft of public money, and now investigations into wills under the new law. That’s where we get the legal claim, ‘I declare that the theft took place with your help and advice.’ That’s where we get all those lawsuits over breaches of trust in guardianship, agency, partnership, and property held in trust, along with the other dishonest dealings involved in buying, selling, hiring, or renting out. That’s where we get a public prosecution over a private matter under the Laetorian law. And that’s where we get the sweeping net that catches every kind of dishonesty: the legal action for fraud introduced by our friend Gaius Aquillius. Aquillius himself holds that fraud is established when someone pretends to do one thing but actually does another.”

[3.75]
“Are we really to believe that the immortal gods sowed this enormous crop of evils? If the gods gave people reason, they also gave them malice. Malice is simply a clever, deceptive use of reason to hurt someone. Those same gods also gave us fraud, crime, and all the other things that no one can plan or carry out without reason. So, just as that old woman wishes,
‘If only axes in Pelion’s woods

had never felled fir beams to the ground!’
I wish the gods had never given people this cleverness. Very few use it well, and even they are often crushed by those who use it badly. Countless people use it dishonestly. So this divine gift of reason and judgment seems to have been given to people to help them cheat, not to help them be good.”

[3.76]
“But you keep insisting that people are to blame, not the gods. That’s like a doctor blaming the seriousness of the disease, or a ship’s captain blaming the force of the storm. Of course, they’re only human. Still, it’s ridiculous. Someone might say, ‘Who would have called you in if those problems didn’t exist?’ We can argue more freely against a god: ‘You say people’s faults are to blame. Then you should have given people a kind of reason that ruled out faults and wrongdoing.’ So how could the gods have made a mistake? We leave estates to people in the hope that we’re choosing well, and our hope can prove wrong. But how could a god be wrong? Or was it like Sol letting his son Phaethon into his chariot, or Neptune, when Theseus destroyed Hippolytus after his father Neptune had granted him three wishes:”

[3.77]
“Those are poets’ tales. We want to be philosophers, reporting facts, not fables. Yet even those poetic gods, if they’d known their gifts would destroy their sons, would be thought to have done wrong in giving them. And take what Aristo of Chios used to say. Philosophers harm listeners who put a bad interpretation on good teaching: people can leave Aristippus’s school as reckless pleasure-seekers, or Zeno’s as harsh men. If that is true—if listeners are going to leave as worse people because they twist philosophers’ discussions—then surely it would be better for philosophers to keep silent than to harm their listeners.

[3.78]
“In the same way, if people turn the reason the immortal gods gave them with good intentions into a tool for fraud and malice, humanity would have been better off without it. Suppose a doctor orders a sick man to drink wine, knowing he’ll drink it too strong and die at once. The doctor would be seriously at fault. Your Providence deserves the same blame for giving reason to people it knew would use it wrongly and dishonestly. Unless perhaps you say it didn’t know. I wish you would! But you won’t dare. I know how highly you value its name.”

[3.79]
“But we can finish this part of the argument now. All philosophers agree that foolishness is a greater evil than all the evils of fortune and the body put together on the other side. Yet no one achieves wisdom. So all of us are suffering the worst evils, even though you say the immortal gods have taken excellent care of us. There’s no difference between no one being healthy and no one being able to be healthy. In the same way, I don’t see what difference it makes whether no one is wise or no one can be wise.”

“We’ve already said far too much about something completely obvious. Telamon settles the whole question of the gods’ neglect of people in a single line:
‘If they cared, good people would do well and bad people badly. That’s not what happens.’
If the gods really were looking after humanity, they should have made everyone good;”

[3.80]
“or, failing that, they should at least have looked after the good. Why, then, did the Carthaginian defeat the two Scipios in Spain, men of outstanding courage and goodness? Why did Maximus have to bury his son, who had been consul? Why did Hannibal kill Marcellus? Why did Cannae take Paulus’s life? Why was Regulus’s body handed over to Carthaginian cruelty? Why couldn’t Africanus find protection within the walls of his own home? But these are old cases, and there are many more. Let’s look at more recent ones. Why is my uncle Publius Rutilius in exile, a man as blameless as he is learned? Why was my friend Drusus murdered in his own home? Why was the chief priest Quintus Scaevola, a model of self-control and good judgment, butchered in front of Vesta’s statue? Why, even before that, did Cinna kill so many of the state’s leading men? Why was Gaius Marius, the most treacherous man of all, able to order the death of Quintus Catulus, a man of exceptional standing?”

[3.81]
“The day would end before I could list all the good people who have suffered, or all the wicked people who have done wonderfully well. Why did Marius die so happily, an old man in his own home, during his seventh consulship? Why did Cinna, the cruelest man of all, rule for so long? ‘But he paid for it.’ It would have been better to stop him, to prevent him from killing so many outstanding men, than to make him pay for it eventually. Quintus Varius, a thoroughly vicious man, died under the most agonizing torture and punishment. If that was because he’d killed Drusus with a sword and Metellus with poison, it would have been better to keep those men alive than to make Varius pay for his crime. Dionysius was tyrant of an immensely wealthy and prosperous city for thirty-eight years;”

[3.82]
“and long before him, Pisistratus ruled for many years in the most flourishing part of Greece. ‘But Phalaris and Apollodorus paid for their crimes.’ Yes, after they’d tortured and killed many people. Plenty of bandits pay for their crimes too. Still, we can’t say that more bandits have been killed than captives have been put to cruel deaths. We’re told that Anaxarchus, a follower of Democritus, was tortured to death by a Cypriot tyrant, and that Zeno of Elea was killed under torture. What can I say about Socrates? Whenever I read Plato, I find myself crying over his death. So don’t you see? If the gods watch human affairs, their judgment makes no distinction between good and bad.”

[3.83]
“Diogenes the Cynic used to say that Harpalus testified against the gods. In those days Harpalus was considered a successful robber, and he lived in that good fortune for so long. Take Dionysius, whom I mentioned earlier. After plundering Proserpina’s temple at Locri, he was sailing to Syracuse. With a perfectly favorable wind carrying him along, he laughed and said, ‘Do you see, friends, what a fine voyage the immortal gods give people who rob their temples?’ He was a sharp man. Once he’d fully and clearly grasped the point, he stuck to that view. When he brought his fleet to the Peloponnese and entered the temple of Olympian Jupiter, he stripped Jupiter of a very heavy gold cloak. The tyrant Gelo had adorned Jupiter with it, using spoils taken from the Carthaginians. Dionysius even joked that a gold cloak was heavy in summer and cold in winter. He threw a woolen cloak over Jupiter instead, saying that it was suitable for every season. He also ordered the gold beard removed from Aesculapius at Epidaurus. It wasn’t right, he said, for the son to have a beard when his father was beardless in every temple.”

[3.84]
“He then ordered the silver tables removed from all the shrines. They bore the inscription ‘Of the good gods,’ following the old Greek custom. He said he wanted to benefit from their goodness. He also took, without a moment’s hesitation, little gold Victories, offering bowls, and wreaths held in the outstretched hands of the statues. He said he was accepting them, not taking them away. After all, it was foolish to ask the gods for good things and then refuse to accept them when they held them out and offered them. They say this same man brought the things I’ve mentioned out of the temples into the marketplace and sold them through an auctioneer. Once he’d collected the money, he issued an order: anyone who possessed anything from a shrine had to return each object to its own shrine by a fixed date. So he added injustice toward people to his disrespect for the gods. Yet Olympian Jupiter didn’t strike him with a thunderbolt. Aesculapius didn’t waste him away and kill him with a long, painful illness. Instead, he died in his own bed and was carried to a †tyrant’s funeral pyre. The power he’d gained through crime he passed on to his son as an inheritance, as though it were just and lawful.”

[3.85]
“I discuss this point unwillingly, because it seems to give people license to do wrong. It would rightly seem so if our own conscience didn’t carry serious weight in judging both virtue and vice, even without considering the gods. Take conscience away, and everything collapses. A household or state wouldn’t seem organized by any plan or rule if it had no rewards for good actions and no penalties for wrongdoing. In the same way, the world certainly has no divine direction of human affairs if it makes no distinction between good and bad.

[3.86]
“‘But the gods neglect smaller matters. They don’t attend to everyone’s little fields and little vines. If blight or hail damages someone’s crops, Jupiter wasn’t required to take notice. Even kings don’t concern themselves with every tiny detail in their kingdoms.’ That’s what you say. As if I’d been complaining just now about Publius Rutilius’s estate at Formiae, not about the loss of his security! And all human beings do hold this view: they get their outward advantages from the gods—their vineyards, grainfields, olive groves, rich harvests of grain and fruit, and in short all life’s comfort and prosperity. But no one has ever credited a god with giving him virtue.

[3.87]
“Of course, that’s right. We deserve praise for our goodness, and we’re right to take pride in it. That wouldn’t be true if it were a gift from a god rather than something that came from ourselves. But when we gain honors or wealth, get some other lucky break, or escape some misfortune, we thank the gods. Then we don’t think any credit belongs to us. Has anyone ever thanked the gods for being a good person? But people have thanked them for being rich, honored, or unharmed. They call Jupiter Best and Greatest for these things—not because he makes us just, self-controlled, and wise, but because he keeps us safe and sound, wealthy and well supplied.”

[3.88]
“No one’s ever promised Hercules a tenth as an offering if they became wise—although Pythagoras is said to have sacrificed an ox to the Muses when he discovered something new in geometry. But I don’t believe that story, since he wouldn’t even sacrifice an animal to Apollo on Delos, to avoid splashing blood on the altar. To get back to the point, everyone agrees on this: we should ask a god for good luck, but get wisdom from ourselves. However many shrines we dedicate to Mind, Virtue, and Good Faith, we still recognize that these things lie within us. We have to ask the gods to make hope, safety, help, and victory possible.”

“So, as Diogenes used to say, the prosperity and success of bad people show that the gods have no power or authority at all.”

[3.89]
“‘But sometimes things turn out well for good people.’ We seize on those cases and credit the immortal gods for them without any reason. When Diagoras—the man they call the Atheist—visited Samothrace, a friend said to him, ‘You think the gods don’t care about human affairs. Don’t you see from all these painted panels how many people have escaped a violent storm and reached harbor safely by making vows?’ ‘That’s how it is,’ he said. ‘There aren’t any pictures anywhere of the people who were shipwrecked and died at sea.’ On another occasion, when he was sailing, the passengers were frightened and terrified by a storm. They told him they deserved what was happening because they’d taken him aboard their ship. He pointed out many other ships struggling on the same course and asked whether they thought Diagoras was aboard those ships too. That’s how things are: whether your luck is good or bad has nothing to do with the kind of person you are or how you’ve lived.”

[3.90]
“‘The gods don’t take notice of everything,’ he says, ‘nor do kings.’ What similarity is there? If kings knowingly let things pass, they are seriously at fault. But a god can’t even plead ignorance. You make a fine defense of him when you say the gods have the power to exact a criminal’s punishment from his children, grandchildren, and descendants, even if he escapes it by dying. What wonderful fairness from the gods! Would any state tolerate someone proposing a law that condemned a son or grandson because his father or grandfather had done wrong?
What limit will be set to the slaughter of Tantalus’s descendants?

“Or when will there ever be enough punishment

to pay for Myrtilus’s death?

[3.91]
“I couldn’t easily say whether the poets corrupted the Stoics or the Stoics gave the poets authority. Both say monstrous and shameful things. Someone hurt by Hipponax’s iambic verse or wounded by Archilochus’s poetry wasn’t carrying around pain sent by a god. It was pain they’d developed themselves. And when we see the lust of Aegisthus or Paris, we don’t look to a god for its cause, since we can almost hear their guilt speaking. I also credit Hippocrates rather than Aesculapius with restoring many sick people to health. And I’ll never say that the Spartan system of training was given to Sparta by Apollo rather than Lycurgus. Critolaus, I tell you, destroyed Corinth, and Hasdrubal destroyed Carthage. Those two men gouged out those eyes of the coast, not some angry god. You deny that a god can get angry at all.”

[3.92]
“But a god could certainly have helped and saved such great and splendid cities. You yourselves often say there is nothing a god can’t do, and without any effort. Just as people’s limbs move without strain, by thought and will alone, so everything can be shaped, moved, and changed by the gods’ will. You don’t say this superstitiously, like an old woman’s tale, but on a consistent basis in natural science. The matter of things, from which and in which everything exists, is wholly flexible and changeable. So there is nothing that can’t be shaped or transformed out of it, however suddenly. Divine providence shapes and governs all of it. Wherever this providence turns, it can do whatever it wants. Therefore it either doesn’t know its own power, neglects human affairs, or can’t judge what is best.

[3.93]
“‘It doesn’t care about individual people.’ That’s no surprise: it doesn’t even care about cities. Not cities? Not even nations and peoples. If it’s going to disregard even them, why be surprised that it’s disregarded the whole human race?”

“But how can you say that the gods don’t attend to everything, while also insisting that the immortal gods distribute and allot dreams to people? (I’m discussing this with you because your school holds that dreams tell the truth.) And at the same time you also say that people should make vows? After all, individuals make vows, so the divine mind listens to individuals too. You see, then, that it isn’t as busy as you thought. Suppose it is fully occupied, turning the sky, watching over the earth, and governing the seas. Why does it let so many gods do nothing and sit idle? Why doesn’t it put some of those idle gods in charge of human affairs? You’ve described countless gods, Balbus.”

“That’s about all I had to say about the nature of the gods. My aim wasn’t to deny it, but to help you understand how unclear it is and how hard it is to explain.”

[3.94]
With those words Cotta ended. But Lucilius said, “Cotta, you’ve attacked very forcefully the Stoic account of divine providence, which they have established with the greatest reverence and wisdom. But since evening is coming on, give us another day to answer these arguments. I’m fighting you for our altars and hearths, for the gods’ temples and shrines, and for the city’s walls. You pontiffs say those walls are sacred, and you surround the city with religion more carefully than with the walls themselves. I think it would be wrong for me to abandon them as long as I can breathe.”

[3.95]
“I certainly hope to be refuted, Balbus,” Cotta replied. “I preferred to discuss the points I raised rather than decide them, and I know very well that you can easily defeat me.”

“Of course,” Velleius said, “when he even thinks Jupiter sends us dreams! Yet dreams themselves aren’t as empty as the Stoics’ account of the gods’ nature.”

After these words, we parted. Velleius thought Cotta’s argument nearer the truth; I thought Balbus’s came closer to what seemed true.