Book 2, Chapter 72

148 “Let this divination through dreams, then, be driven off the stage along with the rest. To speak the truth, superstition has spread among the nations, crushing almost every mind and taking possession of human weakness. This has been said in the books on the nature of the gods, and making this clear has been our chief purpose in the present discussion. We thought we would greatly benefit both ourselves and our countrymen if we could uproot it altogether. Yet—and I want this clearly understood—abolishing superstition does not abolish religion. It is wise to uphold our ancestors’ institutions by preserving their rites and ceremonies; and the beauty of the universe and the order of the heavenly bodies compel us to acknowledge some surpassing, eternal being that the human race should look up to and admire.

149 “So, just as religion joined with knowledge of nature should even be extended, every root of superstition must be plucked out. It presses upon you, bears down on you, pursues you wherever you turn: if you hear a prophet or an ominous word, offer a sacrifice or catch sight of a bird, see a Chaldean or a haruspex; if lightning flashes, thunder sounds, something is struck from heaven, or anything resembling a portent is born or comes to pass. Some such thing is bound to happen much of the time, so that the mind is never allowed to rest in peace.

150 “Sleep seems a refuge from every hardship and anxiety. Yet from sleep itself arise a host of cares and fears. These would have less force in themselves, and would be more readily dismissed, had philosophers not taken up the defense of dreams—not the most contemptible philosophers, either, but men exceptionally acute, able to perceive what follows and what conflicts, already thought almost complete and perfect in wisdom. Had Carneades not opposed their license, I suspect they would by now be considered the only philosophers. Nearly all our argument and contention is with them, not because we hold them in the greatest contempt, but because they seem to defend their views with the greatest subtlety and judgment. Since it is the Academy’s distinctive practice to impose no judgment of its own, to approve what seems most like the truth, to compare arguments and bring out what can be said for each position, and, without lending its own authority, to leave the hearer’s judgment independent and free, we shall hold to this practice handed down from Socrates. If you agree, my brother Quintus, we shall employ it between ourselves as often as possible.” “Nothing,” he said, “could give me greater pleasure.” With these words, we rose.

148 “So let this divination through dreams be rejected along with all the rest. To tell the truth, superstition has spread through the nations, weighed down almost everyone's mind, and taken hold of human weakness. The books called The Nature of the Gods made this point; in this debate too, getting rid of superstition has been our chief concern. We thought we would greatly benefit ourselves and our people if we pulled it out by the roots. But I want this clearly understood: removing superstition does not remove religion. It is wise to protect our ancestors' institutions by keeping their sacred rites and ceremonies. And we cannot deny what the universe's beauty and the ordered heavens show us: a supreme, eternal being exists, and humanity ought to look up to it with admiration.

149 “So just as religion connected with the knowledge of nature should even be spread, every root of superstition must be pulled out. It crowds in and gives you no relief, following you whichever way you go: if someone prophesies within your hearing or you catch words taken as an omen, if you sacrifice or see a bird, if you see a Chaldean or a haruspex, if lightning flashes or thunder sounds, if something is struck from the sky, or if something resembling a portent is born or happens. One of these things is bound to happen often, so you can never settle down with a peaceful mind.

150 “Sleep seems to be a refuge from all our troubles and anxieties. Yet that very thing produces a great many worries and fears. These would matter less in themselves and be more readily dismissed if philosophers had not taken up the defense of dreams. And these are not the most worthless philosophers. They are among the sharpest, able to see what follows from an argument and what contradicts it, and are now considered close to perfect in every way. If Carneades had not opposed their reckless claims, I am not sure they would not by now be judged the only philosophers. Nearly all our argument and debate is with them, not because we despise them most, but because, when they argue for their own views, no one seems sharper or more careful. The Academy has its own way of working: it commits to no judgment, accepts whatever looks closest to the truth, sets arguments side by side, and lays out what can be said for each position. It adds no authority of its own, but leaves listeners completely free to make their own judgment. We will keep this practice handed down from Socrates. If it pleases you, my brother Quintus, we will use it between ourselves as often as possible.” “Nothing could please me more,” he said. With that, we got up.