Since the manner of the oracles has been sufficiently refuted by us through what has already been set forth, and the divine power of our Savior, through his evangelical teaching, has been shown to be both god-befitting and life-benefiting — namely, that it was through this alone, and no other means, that freedom from the demonic phantasms which from time immemorial had darkened and ravaged the whole of human life came to belong to all men — come, let us now direct our discourse also against the false opinions men hold concerning fate, so that not only through the depravity of their manner, but also through the things they believe that are neither correct nor true, the demons supposed to move the oracles may be shown to be base and powerless.
Consider, then, whether the argument concerning them will not fall into disrepute for you too, being alien to divine power — both from what I shall present in refutation of the doctrine of fate, and from the very manner itself in which they are said to render their prophecies.
For they do not claim that these beings have foreknowledge of the future through a superior power, but that, from observation of the movement of the stars, like men, they conjecture the future. Thus, they say, the demons are able neither to benefit nor to accomplish anything at all, except what accords with fate. And the refutation of this comes from that very champion of the demons himself, in the work he entitled 'Philosophy from Oracles,' where he speaks, word for word, as follows:
For the things which the gods say, if indeed they say them knowing what is fated, they reveal from the movement of the stars — and this nearly all the truthful among the gods have declared.
Then, a little further down, he says: 'When Apollo was asked what the woman would bear, he said from the stars that it would be a girl, having discerned it from the time of conception.' He speaks thus: 'It springs forth from the earth by the roadside, where the meadows, in thirst for rain, seized the whole draught of their mother, while she was stirred within for the appointed time — not a boy, but a girl; for keen-sighted Phoebe plowed holy Cypris, hastening on the female offspring, O friend, that is yours.'
Behold, this too is from the time of conception: because the moon was moving toward Venus, he said a female would be born. 'For the things which the gods say' — if indeed they also foretell diseases from that same source. For hear this: 'Truly an evil poison subdues him grievously in the breast, overflowing with the painful malignancy of the lung.'
And next, to which he adds: 'But it was the mind of the Fates that brought this about, and fixed him into dark strife, to be subdued by grievous afflictions, as lofty-citied Cronos proceeds along his baneful path.'
And after other lines: 'But the fated day for you to complete the span of life the grievous man-destroyer, hastening on against Cronos, hurried to bring, and it blotted out the foundation of your mind; wherefore also the sacred heart of your godlike father threatened to flee from evil-working Ares.'
These things show that they do not prophesy at all from their own divine power, but from observation of the stars according to the reasoning of the astrologers, so that in this respect they differ in no way from men, nor display any work of a superior and more divine nature.
Observe also how they abolish what is within our own power, in that they attribute not only external things, and things not within our power, to the movement of the stars, but even our own moral choices.
Thus also Apollo, speaking concerning someone and at the same time explaining whence comes his eagerness for the army, said: 'He has swift Ares as ruler of his nativity, who stirs him up, nor will Ares let him rest; for the counsel of Zeus has pressed hard upon it, or straightway from Ares glory more excellent shall be granted him.' And again, concerning another: 'Fair-haired Cronos was in the ascendant, and with hateful goads afflicted the stormy dawn of the son of Talaus.'
To such a degree do the noble gods dread fate that they even confess themselves unable to defend their own sacred places when struck by lightning. Great, then, would be the hope for men praying to obtain help from those who are not even able to succor themselves! What need is there any longer to be pious, and to worship and serve the gods, who are wholly unable even to provide for themselves? Hear, then, what the oracle says.
So too are the allotted fates of temples and shrines; and the shrine of Apollo himself was allotted to be struck by lightning, as he himself says: 'O you born of the divine race of Erichthonius, you have dared to come and inquire of my voice where the seat of the most beautiful shrine shall be laid waste. Hear the wondrous voice from the laurel-roofed inner sanctuary. Whenever, blowing on high, the roaring winds aloft clash together, contending against one another in strife — and around the boundless universe there shall be a windless frost — and the fouled upper air holds no outlet for release, then a smoking fire-brand shall fall about the earth, wherever it chances. From it, beasts on the mountains, terrified, flee beneath the deepest coverts, nor do they stay to behold with their eyes the descending weapon of Zeus. By it are subdued the temples of the blessed gods, and the tall trees, and the peaks of towering mountains, and ships upon the sea, as it draws near with its fiery-blasted flight; and even Amphitrite herself, companion of Poseidon, when struck, often draws back resoundingly. You, then, though bearing in your hearts an unbearable grief, endure in your souls the unalterable decrees of the Fates; for to these the head of Zeus, son of Uranus, has bowed assent, that whatever they spin shall remain unshaken by their spindles. For it was destined that, in the course of long ages, the most beautiful shrine should be subdued by the swoops of fire-brands hurled from Zeus.'
If, then, by the spindles of the Fates even the temples of the venerable gods, and their sacred abodes, are subdued by fiery-blasted flights, what hope would still remain for mortal men of escaping what is fated? And if there be no help at all from the gods, and one must in every case endure in one's soul the unalterable decrees of the Fates, what is the point of the vain zeal shown toward the gods? So one might say.
And what need is there to offer libation and the savor of sacrifice, and the honor derived from these, to those not even worthy of them, if they are able to benefit us in no respect at all? Since one ought not even to think them givers of good things, but rather, as they themselves confessed, the cause also of things contrary to good.
For if it is fated for men, whether something good or something contrary, it will come to pass and be present of necessity, whether the gods wish it or not. Necessity alone, then, must be served, giving little thought — or rather none at all — to the gods, who are able neither to harm nor to benefit.
But if indeed the god who presides over all things alone rules the Fates, and he alone is lord even over these — for it is said, 'to these the head of Zeus, son of Uranus, has bowed assent, that whatever they spin shall remain unshaken by their spindles' — why then, setting all else aside, do you not confess that the all-sovereign one, master even of fate, alone is God, and alone the giver of good things and Savior? For it is to him alone that it is easy also to turn and alter what you call the unalterable decrees of the Fates — so that the one consecrated to the all-sovereign God, and who alone worships him piously, serves neither by necessity nor by fate, but, as one free and released from every bond, follows unhindered the divinely-inspired and salvific dispensations. Such things, then, does the true argument set forth; but observe, on the other hand, through what means he says the bonds of fate are loosed.
For when someone besought a god to receive him, the god, saying that he was unfit because he was bound by nature, and having on this account prescribed rites of aversion, adds: 'For a demonic force has run in abundance over your nativity, from which you must flee by such magic rites.'
By which it is also clearly shown that magic, in the matter of loosing the bonds of fate, was given by the gods for the purpose of somehow diverting it.
These things Porphyry tells you, not I. He, then, who advises the loosing of fate's bonds by magic — how, being himself a god, did he not loose what was fated concerning his own temple when it was being burned by lightning? And he who urges one to practice magic, but not to philosophize — how would this not clearly reveal what sort of character he really has? On top of all this, this same man also confesses that the gods lie.
But he goes on to say that even the exact knowledge of the celestial motion, and the conjunctions resulting from it, are incomprehensible to men — and not only to men, but even to some of the demonic beings — wherefore they too lie when questioned about many things.
To these he adds further: 'And it is the surrounding atmosphere that compels the oracles to become false, not that those present willingly add the falsehood. Often, at any rate, they foretell that they will lie; but the questioners remain and, through their own ignorance, compel them to speak.'
At any rate, Apollo once said — when the condition of the surrounding atmosphere, as we have shown, was evil — 'Shut up the force and might of words; I shall speak falsely.' And that these things we have said are true, the very oracles themselves will make clear.
At any rate, some god, when invoked, said: 'Today it is not fitting to speak of the sacred path of the stars, for the seats of prophecy are now fettered among the stars.' And he adds: 'It has thus become clear whence the falsehood often arises.'
Has, then, your doubtful opinion now been laid to rest — namely, that there was nothing at all divine in the oracles of the gods? For how could the divine ever lie, being by nature most incapable of falsehood, if indeed the divine is free from falsehood? And how could a good daimon ever, by false speech, deceive those who consult it? And how could that which is fettered by the movement of the stars be superior to man?
A mortal man, then, who has brought even a small measure of zeal for virtue, would never lie, having set before himself to prize the truth above all; nor, having lied, would he blame the necessity of fate or the movement of the stars. But even should someone apply fire or the sword to his body, compelling him to corrupt the true account, yet even against this, speaking with unfettered tongue, he will answer back: 'Let fire come, let swords come; cut, burn my flesh, drink your fill of my dark blood; for sooner shall the stars descend beneath the earth, and the earth ascend to heaven, than a flattering word shall come from me to meet you.'
But the people-deceiving and fraudulent demon makes excuses, playing the sophist upon the foolish, so that in cases where it should fail in its prediction of the future, it might procure fate as a refuge for its own irrationality.
And the demon, having hung everything upon fate through the oracles, and having abolished what is within our own power — that which arises from self-determined motion — and having enslaved even this to necessity, see into what a ruin of evil doctrines he has cast down those who trust in him.
For if it is not only external things but also our rational impulses that must be attributed to the stars and to fate, and if some inexorable necessity does violence to human judgments, then philosophy will be gone from you, and piety too will be gone; there would be no praise of virtue for the earnest, no love of God, nor any worthy fruit of the labors of ascetic discipline, since necessity and fate have taken upon themselves the cause of all things.
It would then be unfitting to blame those who err in their way of life, nor indeed the impious and most blameworthy, but neither would it be fitting to admire the earnest; and thus, as I have said, the great glory of philosophy too will be gone, since it depends not on self-chosen study and discipline but hangs suspended from the necessity of the stars.
See, then, into what an abyss of evil doctrines these wondrous gods have cast us, and consider how this very doctrine urges and incites men toward profligacy and injustice and countless other evils, working all at once the overthrow of the whole of life.
If, then, someone should straightway believe the wondrous oracles of the gods, namely that speaking truth and speaking falsehood are not our own doing but that of inexorable fate, and likewise that willing to set out on a military campaign or upon any other undertaking, and not willing such things, are alike fated, how would he not choose to be negligent and slothful in all things that cannot be accomplished without toil and labor and our own eagerness?
For if one should suppose that a given thing will come to pass by fate, whether we toil and are earnest about it or not, how would one not choose the easier course, letting oneself go and being negligent, on the ground that whatever is to be done will come to pass by fate and necessity?
For if the man who sets out on a military campaign did so not from his own choice but driven by an external necessity, it is clear that the man who turns to brigandage and tomb-robbing and to other impious and licentious deeds, or to orderly and temperate pursuits, does so likewise — for this would follow consistently from the doctrine of fate.
How, then, could one who supposes that he undertakes these things not of himself but under external necessity ever heed one who admonishes and teaches him not to give himself over, surrendered, to the aforesaid evils?
For he might say to the one admonishing him, as was said also by certain men before us, 'Why, O man, do you admonish me? For surely it is not within my power to change my purpose; fate has already forestalled it.'
Why, then, must I strain myself toward things I shall not even be able to be eager for, unless this too has been fated for me? And if it has been fated, I shall be eager even without your teaching, being led by fate. Why, then, do you trouble yourself in vain?
But even if you should say that your very exhorting and teaching is accomplished by necessity, for the purpose of exhorting and persuading me of such things, still, even in this case, what need is there to be earnest? For the exhortation is idle and useless. If it is fated for me, I shall labor diligently; but if it is not fated, it will befall us both alike to make our earnestness in vain.
And would not the man who holds this opinion, out of very slackness, rather say to himself, 'Come, let me by no means labor diligently, nor trouble myself in vain, for what is fated will come to pass of necessity'? Yet the one who is earnest about something — whether teaching or turning himself or another to persuasion or non-persuasion, to sinning or not sinning, and who rebukes those who sin and praises those who do well — how is he not clearly convicted of abandoning, in his very action, the doctrine of what is in our own power and of free will, while attaching to it merely the name of fate?
Just as if someone were to call by the name of evil the nature of the good, by whose presence the living creature is best governed. For in this way, since we clearly perceive ourselves not being compelled by any other cause in disciplining our sons and scourging servants who have erred, and in willing this or that or not willing it, but arriving at such motions entirely from our own authority, the man who says that these things happen according to fate would err, tending to undo both our own eagerness and the exhortations and admonitions we direct toward others, from which we see human affairs most of all set right.
Moreover, this doctrine would also overturn the laws laid down for men for the sake of their advantage. For what need is there to command or forbid those who are held fast by another necessity? Nor, indeed, would it be necessary to punish wrongdoers, since they have not sinned through the same cause, nor to award honors to those who do the noblest deeds — though each of these has furnished great cause for the restraint of injustice and for readiness in well-doing.
But this opinion would also overturn piety toward the divine, if indeed God contributes nothing to us, nor do the very givers of these oracles contribute anything, whether we pray or are pious, since we are fettered by the necessities of fate.
But to say that we are moved after the manner of lifeless things, jerked this way and that like puppets by some external power, so as to be forced to will to do these things and to choose others contrary to our purpose — how would this not be shameless and most impudent, since we clearly perceive ourselves eagerly pursuing certain things by our own impulse and motion, and again being negligent of them, and we likewise perceive ourselves succeeding or not succeeding by this same cause, compelled by nothing else, but choosing some things by voluntary judgment and fleeing and declining others out of our own free choice?
So evident, then, was the doctrine of the voluntary that, just as pain and pleasure, and seeing this and hearing that, are apprehended not by reasoning but by direct experience, so too we are conscious of ourselves as setting out from ourselves and from our own deliberation, choosing certain things and turning away from others, so that in every respect the freedom and self-determination of the rational and intellectual nature within us is justly acknowledged.
But if countless things also befall us contrary to our purpose, and these trouble the majority of men, here we must distinguish the nature of the state in which we exist, and we must consider the principle according to which what is not in our power comes to pass. For thus the cause of these things too will not be taken up by some irrational fate, but rather by another principle, one dependent upon the providence of the universe. Come, then, let us examine this problem carefully.
But now, specifically according to their kind, individual things that come to be are moved, some by disposition, some by nature, some by impulse and imagination, others by reasoning and their own judgment and choice; and some things happen according to a governing principle, while others happen as accompaniments to what has already occurred according to that governing principle. In this way the Cause of the universe has constituted the varied and manifold ordering of the whole, allotting to each kind of existing thing its own distinct constitution of nature.
One might, then, only with difficulty go through the account concerning the other kinds, but one could more easily come to understand the account concerning free will in the following way.
Since man is not a thing of a single kind, nor does he happen to be composed of a single nature, but has received his composition from two opposites, body and soul — the body being an instrument bound to the soul accidentally, while the intellectual essence subsists according to a governing principle; the one being irrational, the other rational; the one corruptible, the other incorruptible; the one mortal, the other immortal — so that we bear a body akin to the irrational beasts, but a soul akin to the rational and immortal nature. For this reason it is fitting that this twofold growth, since it partakes of a twofold nature, should direct its life in a twofold and differing manner — at one time enslaved to the nature of the body, at another embracing its own proper freedom through the more divine portion — so that the same being is both slave and free, having been allotted by God, for reasons known to himself, such a commingling of soul and body.
If, then, someone, using the term 'fate,' should ascribe to the cause of necessity those things which belong to the nature of either the body or the soul, he would miss the proper designation. For if the necessity of fate were something unhindered, yet many of the things naturally belonging to body and soul are impeded, and countless other things contrary to nature befall both soul and body accidentally from without — how, then, could fate and nature be the same thing?
For if they say that fate is invariable, and that nothing can happen contrary to it (for necessity, they say, is inexorable), yet many things, as I have said, happen to both soul and body contrary to what accords with nature, one could not rightly call fate and nature the same, in saying so.
Among the things that exist in us, then, there would be those which come to be by reasoning and choice, that is, what is in our own power, such as the things according to the nature of the soul; and others according to the nature of the body; and others which are accidental to these — I mean to soul and body — but are brought about by other things according to nature. Yet one could not justly deprive the Cause of what belongs to the soul as being in our power, nor of what belongs to the body according to nature, nor indeed of what befalls us from without accidentally.
For God himself has been declared to be the Maker of all things — of what is in our power, of what is according to nature, and of what is accidental. For concerning all things universally we must heed the divine Scripture, which declares: 'He spoke, and they came to be; he commanded, and they were created.'
If, then, when we wish something, other things sometimes befall us contrary to our judgment, we must remind ourselves that this is precisely that twofold and heterogeneous character of the union within us — I mean of soul and body — on account of which the essence of the soul, though intellectual and rational by nature, has, in a body that is naturally in its infancy, itself contrary to its own nature taken on the place of the irrational; and the mind, whose proper function is prudence, often plays the fool by some accident, being deranged, say, by excessive bodily illnesses.
And often, too, old age, coming upon the body according to nature, has deprived the mind of the achievements it had in its prime, blunting, contrary to nature, the rational faculty of the intellectual soul.
Again, outrages and pains and mutilations befalling the body contrary to nature have, by accident, overcome the self-determination of the soul, which yields to the pains because of its union with the body — so that it is as though an inescapable bond were thrown as an obstacle before the freedom of the soul, at one time by the nature of the body, at another by things befalling it from without.
Yet, on the other hand, our own faculty of choice has also attained such a degree of virtue and strength as to dare, in many cases, to resist and contend against both the nature of the body and the things that befall us from without.
The nature of the body indeed calls a man toward the impulse of sexual desire, but the soul, casting a rein of sober reason upon the passion, establishes itself as stronger than the nature of the body. And again, the body, compelling us with hunger and thirst and cold and the like, urges us toward their natural remedies and satisfactions; but the will, persuaded by sober reasoning, and having freely embraced certain ascetic exhortations, outwits the nature of the body through many days of fasting and endurance, having judged and chosen this by the virtue of reasoning.
And again, the body according to its nature delights in all pleasures and in the smooth motion of physical comfort, but the will, out of desire for virtue, has embraced a laborious and rough way of life.
There are also those who, turning to the worse, have exchanged natural use for that which is contrary to nature, males working shameless deeds with males.
Thus, then, reasoning does not yield to nature in all respects, but in most cases it prevails, just as it is also at times overpowered; and at one time it leads, at another it is led — so much so that there are occasions when, before its hour, it draws to itself with its own hands release from the body, when life is judged not to be advantageous to it.
Now if his whole struggle were solely against the proper nature of his own body, this would be a moderate contest; but since God has laid down for him his civic life and his life among men amid many other things — so that he must spend his days together with beasts and venomous reptiles, in the midst of fire and water and the surrounding air, and amid all the varied and differing natures found among these — his conflict and resistance are fittingly directed not only against the proper nature of the body united to him, but also against the countless external accidents amid which the one who leads a mortal life dwells, so that he must also stand firm against these with endurance.
Many, indeed, are the natures of foods of such and such a kind, and such mixtures of the surrounding air, and onsets of frost and outbreaks of scorching heat, and very many other things that, moving naturally according to their own proper principles, befall us by way of contingency, and have furnished no small disturbance to our own free will because of its union with the body — since the nature of our bodies does not withstand the assaults coming from without, but is overpowered and conquered by external things operating according to their own proper nature.
Again, moreover, since we spend our days together with a great many other men, who, having received the same essence as we, likewise carry off for themselves that which is in their own power under their own authority, exercising their own free choice, for this reason too we shall reasonably be subject also to the judgments of others, their own free will thereby acting upon us in some way with respect to the body or concerning the soul.
For just as the nature of our body is often overcome by things assailing it from without, so too there are times when our own faculty of choice, harassed by countless external choices, being persuaded by its own free judgment, gives itself over to external things, and becomes at one time better, at another worse. For evil company is known to corrupt, just as, conversely, the fellowship of the good makes men better. 'Bad company corrupts good character,' just as also the fellowship of the good preserves and improves.
And so the rational faculty of the soul, in respect of words, is carried this way and that by things befalling it from without; yet again the proper virtue of the rational essence has its own strength, and shows forth a power truly divine and godlike, whenever, withstanding all external things and overcoming them all with a free mind, yielding in nothing from its own virtue, it is prepared to practice philosophy. But whenever it grows negligent, it is reduced to the very worst condition by the worse influences, just as, conversely, it is improved when it happens to receive care from without.
What need is there to say, in addition to these things, that fruitful and unfruitful yields of such souls and bodies, coming about by some conjunction of circumstance fittingly with the governance of the whole, and being good and right for the universe as a whole, have produced a very great abundance of every kind of movement for particular things, and indeed for what is in our own power?
Over all things universally, then, both those that arise from us and by our own cause, and those that come upon us from without by accident, and those that operate naturally, there presides one all-mighty and all-powerful providence of God, permeating all things, which orders most things by more divine reasons ineffable to us, guiding the universe with a gentle rein, refashioning many even of the things according to nature to what is fitting for the seasons, cooperating and working together with what is in our own power, and again assigning the due order to things that befall us from without.
Since these things have thus been divided into three categories — into what is in our own power, what happens according to nature, and what happens by accident — while all of them are recapitulated under a single principle, the will of God, the doctrine of fate will nowhere have any place.
Thus we would also have found the source of evil, which is a source of much perplexity to the many — a source having no place in anything according to nature, neither in bodies nor in essences, still less among the accidental things that come upon us from without; but it would be found only in the self-determined movement of the soul, and in this, not when it journeys according to nature along the straight path, but when, departing from the royal road, it turns by its own judgment to what is contrary to nature, being itself established as its own mistress.
For, having received this as a special privilege from God, the soul is free and self-governing, having taken upon itself the judgment of its own impulse; and a divine law, joined to it according to nature, like a lamp and a luminary, calls out to it, resounding from within, and saying: 'You shall go by the royal road; you shall turn aside neither to the right nor to the left' — teaching that the journey according to right reason is the royal road.