I. Not only the people, whose defence we undertake in this discourse, lived in different times, and were of different ranks, sexes, and professions, but the subject-matters also, to which the apologies apply, were of different kinds. This diversity of itself, seems as if it would require a distinct discourse to apologize for each person separately; and in truth, some authors have written whole volumes, upon subjects that were not of any more importance. But as the variety of different matters which I have proposed to comprehend under this head, obliges me to be as concise as possible; I conjecture, that for the sake of the convenience that will result from my doing so, I may be allowed to range them under one common title. By pursuing this method, I shall prefer the benefit of the reader to my own; for if I had divided into many discourses, what might be comprehended under one general head, he would have paid me for writing a great deal, which was not of more value than so much blank paper; as in large letters, the titles of so many discourses would have occupied a considerable space; and I, with little trouble to myself, should have been paid the same price for the book, as if it had been all filled with useful matter.
II. I shall not contend whether Empedocles, was a good or a bad philosopher, or a good or a bad poet, although he professed both these faculties; neither shall I dispute, whether he was so ostentatious, as always to appear in public cloathed in purple, with a crown of gold upon his head; or so vain, as to aspire at being honoured as a divinity, but I shall confine myself, to examining whether he was so franticly ambitious, as to throw himself privately into the flames of Mount Ætna, to avoid his body being found, in order to make the world believe, that he had been carried alive up to Heaven; to the end, that he might afterwards be worshiped as a deity. This circumstance, is positively asserted in many books; and Empedocles from thence, came to be quoted, as an instance of the extravagance of the heathen philosophers; and upon all occasions, when people in conversation discoursed upon morality, it was introduced as an argument of the foolish ambition of mortals, which they conclude is a frailty annexed to our nature, and that it corresponds with the suggestion contained in the expression of the old serpent to our first parents, You shall be treated as if ye were gods. This information is taken from the writings of the most ancient Greek authors, such as Hippobotus, Diodorus of Ephesus, &c. and from them it has been diffused into the works of the Greeks and Latins. What we find in Horace upon the subject is very trivial:
III. One of the elemental rules of Criticism, is, that when with respect to any fact, we meet with different historical opinions, to abide by that which is the least improbable; or where the circumstances of probability are equal, to adopt that opinion which is supported by the best authority. But I see this rule, which is clearly dictated by the light of nature, frequently abandoned, and to such a degree, that some writers seem as if they took pains to pursue a contrary method; which most likely proceeds, from the improbable being nearly allied to the marvellous, which, although it is not so well calculated to establish or persuade our assent to a fact, gives lustre to the relation, and authors are generally fonder of ostentation than of truth.
IV. There is an instance of this, in the subject we are treating of. It is true, that Hippobotus, and Diodorus of Ephesus, give the account we have mentioned of the death of Empedocles; but there are three other writers, whom I look upon to be of equal authority, and who are more ancient; to wit, Timeus, Neanthes of Cyzicus, and Demetrius Trezenius, who all give other, and different accounts of the manner in which he died, that are beyond comparison more probable than those given by the first two. Why then should not these be believed before those other two, the improbability of whose relations stares you full in the face? Consider Empedocles on the margin of the volcano, with that ocean of fire presenting itself to his sight, and a horrible death to his imagination. Is it credible, that in such a situation, he, for an ideal felicity, which could not be termed more than imaginary; I say, is it credible, that a reasonable entity, who well knew that after his death he could not be sensible of any enjoyment to be derived from a mistaken notion of mankind, should, for such a chimera, precipitate himself into that abyss of sulphur and flame? I will venture to pronounce that he could not.
V. But let us proceed. Admitting that any man could be absurd enough to suppose such a thing probable, who was a witness of the fact? Why, nobody; for this must be taken for granted; and they say, is to be inferred from the circumstances of his disappearance, for that with the most diligent search that could be made, they could never find his body: others contradict this relation; and Timeus, so far from admitting that he died in Sicily, or in the neighbourhood of Mount Ætna, says, that he passed over to Peloponnesus, and died there. But allowing, that he died in Sicily, and taking for granted, the circumstance of their being unable to find his dead body, could not this have disappeared, without being plunged into the gulph of Mount Ætna? Terenius says, that being grown very old, as he was walking along a cliff on the sea coast, as it was customary for him to do, his foot slipped, and he fell into the water, and was drowned; and that his body was never found afterwards; which is a much more probable account of its disappearance than the other.
VI. I may be told, this could not be so, because manifest tokens were found of his having thrown himself into the abyss of Mount Ætna. The principal of these tokens was, that a little while afterwards, one of his shoes, by the emission of the flame, was thrown out of the volcano; so Hippobotus tells us; but this is a glaringly fabulous tale; although it should be affirmed by five hundred Hippobotuses. The flame of Ætna, which the hardness of marble is unable to resist, had such a respect for the shoe of Empedocles, as to leave it unsinged? But they say it was made of metal, which is a subterfuge, that besides being ridiculous, is of no avail in the case; for admitting that that philosopher, either to appear particular and different from other men, or from some other vain motive, should have been so extravagant as to wear metal shoes; would this have indemnified them from being consumed by the voracious flame of the volcano? By no means, for it is well known, that the powerful activity of its heat, in an instant, dissolves the hardest of metals. In the amazing and terrifying vomit of lava, which it emitted in the year 1665, it cast up such a quantity of liquid metal, that it ran down in a river of fire, till it nearly approached the city of Catania. And among other experiments that were made to try the intense heat of that melted metal, was contriving to introduce a sword blade into it, which as far as it was immersed, instantly became liquid.
VII. A joke, which Father Dechales tells of a Spaniard, concerning Mount Ætna, seems so applicable to this matter, that I think it will not be amiss to relate it. He had considered, that volcanos had subsisted a great many ages, and that there was no metal except gold, which fire would not consume, and concluded from thence, that all the metal which boiled in the Volcano must be gold. Filled with this conceit, he persuaded himself that he had found out an easy method of acquiring immense riches, which he proposed to do by the following invention. He got a strong iron kettle made, to the handle of which, he fastened a long iron chain, and by that, he let the kettle down till it reached the metal, and hoped by dipping it in, to draw up a large quantity of liquid gold. But what followed? Why, that the moment the kettle entered the burning mass, both that, and a part of the chain were melted, and the poor Spaniard was left with the other part of the chain in his hand, which he was obliged to draw up with the loss of the lower end, and his kettle. So powerful and active is the heat of that burning metal. Thus it would have been better for Hippobotus, to have feigned the shoes of Empedocles to have been made of Salamanders hairs, which it is said can never be consumed by fire.
VIII. The vulgar opinion has represented this philosopher, as a poor madman, and an extravagant buffoon, who passed his whole life in continual bursts of laughter, and who by laughing at every thing, had made himself the laughing-stock and derision of all mankind; and the conclusion drawn from thence has been, that he was not less ignorant than ridiculous. But notwithstanding this opinion has been so generally adopted, it is easy to demonstrate, that Democritus in reality, was one of the most thinking and enlightened men of antiquity. A proof of which, was his application to study, his manner of living, the estimation he was held in by his countrymen, and his vast learning and wisdom. All that we are about to urge in his defence, is taken from the authorities of Diogenes Laertius, Athenæus, Valerius Maximus, Cicero, and other writers of eminence.
IX. His application to study was such, that he lived in an almost continued state of seclusion from the world. He hardly ever stirred out of his house; nor within it, did he scarce allow himself any respite from his labours, but remained almost always shut up in his study, reading, meditating, and writing. His ardent desire for acquiring more and more lights and information, induced him to leave for a long time, not only his retirement, but his country also, and to travel into distant nations, in order to consult the learned men of Egypt, Persia, and Chaldea; and as some say, even went to consult those of Ethiopia, and India likewise. He expended in these peregrinations, all that he inherited from his father, which amounted to a hundred talents. At his return to his own country, he was accused before the magistrates, as a dissipater of his paternal inheritance; which in that country, was looked upon as a serious offence, and was punished, by depriving the spendthrift of being buried with his ancestors, as an unworthy descendant of his family. The method Democritus took to justify himself, was very singular. He produced to his judges, the best book he had written, which was intitled, The Great Diacosmus, and read to them a large portion of it, and pleaded, that the knowledge contained in that book, was the fruit of his travels, and that he had expended his paternal inheritance in acquiring it. The magistrates were astonished at the profundity of the learning contained in the book, and determined, that his money had been well expended in making the acquisition; and not only acquitted Democritus of the charge that had been brought against him, but adjudged that he should be rewarded with five hundred talents, to be paid out of the public treasury, and adjudged further, that statues should be erected to him as a most excellent man. Let any one now consider, whether it is probable, that his country should pay such honourable attention to a person, who was a ridiculous fellow, and a buffoon? to say nothing of his being looked upon as a half madman, who every moment of his life, was scoffing at his judges, his country, and all mankind.
X. The great application of Democritus, accompanied with his vast and subtil genius, begot such a high opinion of the extent of his learning, that no man was considered as his equal in that respect in the age in which he lived; for at the same time that the philosophers of those days, extended their studies and enquiries, no further than to the contemplation of physics, ethics, and metaphysics; Democritus added to these three faculties, medicine, botany, geometry, arithmetic, music, astronomy, poetry, painting, and the knowledge of languages. All which, may be inferred from the catalogues of his works, to be found in Diogenes Laertius.
XI. I ask now, whether the circumstances we have enumerated with respect to Democritus, bespeak him to be a ridiculous buffoon? or whether they may not rather be termed descriptive of a grave, serious, contemplative man, of much superior lights to the generality of mankind?
XII. I confess, that the laughter of Democritus has been a proverb in the world, which has been commonly used to express laughter to excess; although the proverb took its rise from the accounts some ancient authors have given of this philosopher. But notwithstanding this, I will venture to assert, the laughter of Democritus, which has been so much talked of, did not exceed the bounds, which should circumscribe the gravity of philosophy.
XIII. In order to demonstrate this, we should premise, that all the ills to which man is exposed, may be said to spring from three sources, which are those of malice, misfortune, and ignorance, or want of information. These three evils, to those who rationally contemplate them, will appear to excite naturally, three distinct affections. That is to say, malice, to be productive of indignation; misfortune, grief; and ignorance, laughter. According then to whichever of these causes we consider the evil to spring, we should suppose it to excite an affection correspondent to that cause; and from hence, arises the great characteristic difference of affections, which has been remarked to predominate between the two antagonist philosophers, Heraclitus, and Democritus. Heraclitus, is described to have been weeping and sad, and to the same excess, that Democritus is said to have been laughing and cheerful. That is, these tokens of the characters of the two men, were supposed to be produced, in the first by his sensitive feelings, and in the second by his follies. This is the common opinion; but I for myself believe, that the fault of Heraclitus, was rather the offspring of indignation than compassion; and that he did not consider the evils of mankind, to proceed so much from their misfortunes, as from their malice. This is apparent, from his three letters to his friend Hermodorus, which are the only fragments that have been handed down to us of his writings: what he says there, when he is speaking of the bad government and depraved manners of Ephesus, which was his own country; does not favour the least of compassion; for the whole context, breathes nothing but indignation and resentment. By the same letters we may perceive, that he was presumptuous in extreme, and also arrogant, proud, and a contemner of the rest of mankind. How does this correspond with the soft, and compassionate disposition, that is attributed to him? Finally, it is a fact well established, that from his disgust to, and loathing of mankind, he retired from the world, to lead a solitary life in the mountains. All this, bespeaks a man of a perverse, unsociable, and gloomy genius, and proves, that Heraclitus deserved the character that had been given of him by Timon of Athens, which was that of a Misanthrope; and means, that he was an enemy to, or an abhorrer of mankind.
XIV. But whether Heraclitus was generally crying or lamenting, as is commonly thought; or agreeable to my opinion of him, was continually growling and snarling, it amounts to the same thing, for the use I propose to make of the premises, which is to manifest, that Heraclitus and Democritus, were excited by distinct affections, because their attentions, were confined to distinct objects; and without entering into, whether the lamentation, or indignation, whichever it shall be thought fit to call it, of Heraclitus, whose apology I am not writing, was justifiable, I maintain, that the laughter of Democritus was reasonable, and not extravagant. Democritus viewed men on their ridiculous side, and contemplated their absurdities, their follies, their ill-grounded presumptions, their vain desires, and their useless occupations, all of them, as objects worthy to be laughed at; for as Aristotle says, all turpitude that does not occasion sadness, is laughable and ridiculous, turpitudo sine dolore. The follies and vanities of man being then a sort of turpitudes, which do not produce grief in him, but rather tend to make him contented and happy in himself; are objects worthy to be laughed at.
XV. Yes. But laughter, although it may be directed to a proper object, may be carried to excess; and perhaps this was the fault that was reprehended in Democritus. To this I answer, that the accusation, even considered in this sense, is founded on a mere equivocation. The laughter of Democritus, which has been so largely cried out against, did not favour so much of a habit, as of a dogma; and ought more properly to be considered as applying to an object, than looked upon as a distinct act. This philosopher was distinguished from the rest, not because he laughed more than all the others, but for placing his especial attention on the absurdities of mankind; and the singular maxim, that human things tended more to excite laughter, than indignation or compassion, made a principal part of his moral doctrine. It was easy to imagine, that a philosopher must be much addicted to laugh, who philosophized in this way; and from conceiving him much inclined to laugh, it was easy also for them to proceed to supposing that he was laughing every minute; but his solitary disposition, and retired life, afford an efficacious proof to the contrary. Who ever knew a man that was much inclined to retirement, who was of a very laughable disposition? These two things, seem absolutely incompatible with each other. He who has a great propensity to laughing, seeks occasions to gratify that inclination, and these are to be found in the company of other men, and not in solitude.
XVI. From a story that is related of him by Lucian, I am persuaded, that Democritus was more disposed to be serious than jolly. He was used to say, that all the stories of spectres, phantoms, and apparitions, were fabulous and ridiculous; and certain young fellows, to try whether these were his real sentiments, or else with a view of making him alter them, entered his room in the dead of night, with frightful masks on their faces, and habited in the garb of devils, to which terrible appearances, they added horrible shrieks and cries, accompanied by terrifying gestures. Democritus, who was writing when they entered his room, far from seeming surprized, without lifting the pen from his paper, and without even deigning to pay any attention to them, in a severe tone bid them hold their noise, or else go and make it in some other place, and without articulating another word, he betook himself again to his writing. What, if Democritus had been of a risible disposition, could have been more likely than such a scene to have excited him to laughter; for he well knew the appearances were all feigned, and a jocose derision would have been the best rebuke he could have given them for such an attempt. Finally, that spectacle afforded abundant matter proper to excite laughter, for it might truly be called turpitude, unattended by sadness. Why then did not Democritus laugh? Why did he not scoff at, and treat them with jocose contempt? Why without doubt, because he was not of a bantering, or laughable disposition.
XVII. I will not dispute, that Democritus might sometimes affect to laugh, in order to open a door, for the introduction of his animadversions on the absurdities of mankind; but affected laughter is not incompatible with, nor does it tend to annihilate serious truth. I will also admit, that at sometimes when he laughed in earnest, his laughter might border on the extravagant. Democritus considered many of the actions of men as ridiculous, which others regarded as reasonable, and considered as foolish, many, which others looked upon as discreet: Democritus would laugh at such, and other men who did not discern like him the absurdity of the things he laughed at, might look upon him as a ridiculous man for so doing.
XVIII. In the first discourse of our first volume, we made mention of three letters of Hippocrates, which gave a relation of his having been sent for by the Abdarites, to cure their country-man Democritus, who, on account of his bursting into fits of impertinent and unmeaning laughter, they concluded was mad. In those letters, there is also a relation given of Hippocrates’s visit to him, and of the conversation that passed between Hippocrates and Democritus at that visit, and the result of the interview between them; which was, that Hippocrates esteemed him ever afterwards, as a man supremely wise and learned. This might serve as a confirmation of all we have said respecting Democritus; but as I am a lover of truth, I will not scruple to acknowledge, that since my writing of that discourse, I have come to understand, that there are many critics, who are inclined to think those letters are supposititious; and therefore I will not pretend to avail myself of them further, than as of a testimony, whose authenticity may be disputed.
XIX. But I must beg leave to remark one thing; which is, that in the beforementioned discourse, there is an expression of mine, which may be construed to imply, that I thought the laughter of Democritus inclining to the excessive; but to avoid being accused of falling into contradictions, I thought it necessary to repeat here, an observation I have made upon other occasions; which is, that I am not accustomed to express my particular opinion upon any matter, respecting which I think differently from the vulgar, unless it is when I treat expressly of that matter; but when I touch upon a thing incidentally, it is a rule with me, to fall in with the common opinion concerning that thing. This is a method I found absolutely necessary to adopt, in order to avoid interrupting the thread of my discourse, and incumbering it with foreign matter and new questions.
XX. They have set up another story against Democritus, which, if there was any foundation for, would more effectually prove his want of understanding, than all the bursts of laughter that have been imputed to him. Many authors, and among them Aulus Gellius, relate, that Democritus having considered, that the sight of many sensible objects diverts the understanding from contemplating natural things with proper attention, put out both his eyes, to qualify himself for reflecting upon them with greater profundity, and more intensely. I will readily acknowledge, that such a resolution, could only be taken by a man of a depraved understanding. Illud quidem falso jactatum est de Democrito, quod sponte sibi ademerit oculos, &c. (Lib. de Curiosit.) What necessity was there, in order to remove the impediment arising from sensible objects, for his putting out both his eyes? Would not shutting himself in a dark room, whenever he was disposed to study, have answered the same purpose. The poet Laberius, who takes the thing for granted, assigns another reason for his blinding himself. He says, that Democritus put out both his eyes, to avoid seeing the prosperity of bad men; as if he could not as well have enjoyed this satisfaction, by retiring from all commerce or intercourse with the world; besides, a man’s blinding himself for such a reason, argues a sour, morose, and furious disposition, instead of a pleasant and chearful one, which Democritus was said to possess. Nor is what Tertullian advances more probable, who says, he blinded himself because he could not bear to look at women without emotions of incontinence, nor without being vexed if it happened he could not enjoy them. Nothing could be more foreign than this to the genius of Democritus, of whom it is an established fact, that he was always averse to matrimony. Such fables can be but feebly supported, when the truth is enquired into and sought after with attention.
XXI. This philosopher flourished in the times, in which the fire of emulation began to burn among the masters and disciples of the various schools of philosophy, who mutually waged war against each other, by making false interpretations of the doctrines that each maintained, and by raising false accusations against one another’s customs and manners. In the first place, many look upon Aristotle as a notorious calumniator; but in the second place, they remark that he was amply repaid in his own coin, for that he was egregiously calumniated himself. I find more appearances of malice in the calumnies raised against Epicurus, than in those raised against any of the other philosophers. Epicurus placed extreme felicity in enjoyment; which was an equivocal doctrine, for, considered in a latitudinary sense, it might be construed to mean both honest and criminal enjoyments. The vulgar, when they hear the word enjoyment, are apt to impute an evil signification to it, because, agreeable to their gross ideas, they hardly consider any other things as enjoyments, but unbounded indulgences, in incontinence and debauchery; or they at least, are inclined to consider these as the greatest of all enjoyments. This gross construction of his doctrines by the vulgar, gave encouragement to his rivals to stigmatize his tenets, and to accuse him, of placing all happiness in sensuality and gluttony. It was an easy matter, to transfer the accusation against his doctrines, to militate against his customs and manners; because it being evident, that all men have an innate desire to make themselves happy; consequently, Epicurus must be understood studiously to recommend those objects to them, in which he thought happiness to consist. By attributing to him then this perverse dogma, the inference drawn from it was, that he led a life which corresponded with the tenet; that is, that it was all spent in lewdness, gluttony, and drunkenness.
XXII. Besides the before-mentioned cause, there were two others, that concurred to blacken the fame of Epicurus. The first was, his erroneous and impious opinion with respect to the Deity; for he held, that it consisted of a multiplicity of gods, which he maintained were indolent, unable to do, and having no power of doing, either good or harm to any one; and were without providence, without activity, and without influence; and although he acknowledged they had a right to be worshiped, he attributed the obligation we are under of paying them adoration, to be due to the excellence of their nature, intirely distinct, and separate from all dependence we have on them, or gratitude that we owe to them; and that the obsequies we pay them, should be like the respect we pay to a nobleman, on whom we have no dependence, and from whose favour we entertain no expectations; and which we consider, as a thing due to his quality. I grant, that this afforded a powerful motive for entertaining a bad opinion, both of the moral doctrine, and the manners of Epicurus; for if you take away the fear of punishment, and the hope of reward from mankind, you can found but little expectation, that they will esteem, or practise virtue.
XXIII. The second cause which tended to discredit Epicurus, was the loose manner in which some of his followers lived; who, by perverting the doctrine of their master, and construing it to favour their vicious inclinations, persuaded many people, that Epicurus had taught what they asserted he had taught, and that he had lived as they did.
XXIV. Notwithstanding all these prejudices against him, the cause of Epicurus was not looked upon as so hopeless and forlorn, as to deter some authors of eminence from undertaking his defence, which they did with good success. Among these, we see stand forth in the foremost ranks, our famous Don Francisco de Quevedo, who, from the clear testimonies of many enlightened men of antiquity, proves in the first place, that Epicurus did not place happiness in corporeal, but in spiritual enjoyments; and secondly, that this philosopher, so far from being given to gluttony, was very sparing in his diet, both with respect to his meat and his drink, living for the most part upon bread, water, cheese, and the produce of his own garden; and thirdly, that he lived chastly, and abstained from venereal indulgencies. As the works of Quevedo are almost in the hands of every body, I shall omit a repetition of the testimonies he produces in favour of Epicurus. But to those he mentions, I shall add two others of great weight, which he has not taken notice of. The first is, that of St. Gregory Nazianzenus, who in his Iambics, applauds highly, both the moral doctrine, and the life of Epicurus. These are his words:
In English:
Epicurus thought that pleasure was the reward of all toils, and that this was the object or completion of all mortal good. But that no one should conclude he meant to recommend vicious enjoyments, it will be proper to observe, that through the whole course of his life, he was temperate and chaste, and proved what his dogmas were intended to inculcate by his manners.
XXV. The authority of this father, is of great weight in this matter, because he studied in Athens, where Epicurus had fixed his habitation and his school; and therefore it is probable, had an opportunity of obtaining some authentic testimonies, both of his doctrine and manner of living. This should mollify, or abate the force of the objection that is made to Epicurus, by reason of the terms of contempt and reproach, in which Saint Austin, Saint Ambrosius, and Saint Isidorus speak of him; who having always lived at a great distance from Athens, may have given this account of him, upon the credit of uncertain memoirs; and might possibly have been induced to think, that some things were the productions of Epicurus, which were falsely attributed to him by Diotimus, who was a Stoic philosopher, and his declared enemy.
XXVI. The second testimony which Quevedo has omitted to mention, is that of the philosopher Chrysipus, who was contemporary with, and an avowed enemy and rival of Epicurus, and as such, should be believed with respect to every thing he testifies in his favour. Chrysipus then, as quoted by Stobæus, admits that Epicurus was endowed with chastity, although he malignantly insinuates, that it proceeded from a cause, that was an opprobrium to his character, for he attributes it, to his insensibility or stupidity. These two philosophers, lived in Athens at one and the same time; and as his neighbour and his rival, Chrysipus could not have been ignorant of the vices of Epicurus; and if he had been lascivious, it is very clear, that he would not have allowed he was continent. As he could not then deny he was chaste, he gives his malice another turn, and says, that his continence was not the effect of his virtue, but of his stupidity.
XXVII. Finally, I shall urge against the calumniators of Epicurus, an argument, that appears to me of great weight and efficacy: Diogenes Laertius relates, that the writings of Epicurus were innumerable; and that there was no author of antiquity, who had compiled such a multitude of books. Scripsit autem Epicurus infinita volumina, adeo ut illorum multitudine cunctos superaverit. (Diog. Laert. lib. 10.) Let any man now who is the most prejudiced against Epicurus, tell me whether it is likely, that a man who placed his whole happiness in corporeal gratifications and enjoyments, and must consequently have given himself up to gluttony, drunkenness, and lust, could possibly have written so many books. It is plain and evident that he could not; because his debaucheries would have prevented him for the greatest part of his time, from being able to pursue his studies, and from taking pen in hand, and must at last, have come to incapacitate him totally, as such debaucheries commonly do those, who lead that brutal kind of life.
XXVIII. There remains something still for us to reply to, that has been advanced on the three beforementioned heads, which are the articles, on which the calumniators of Epicurus, principally ground their accusations against him. The first thing he is charged with, is easily answered, because it is generally allowed, that Epicurus lived sparingly, and was sober and continent; from whence it may be evidently inferred, that he could not place his whole happiness, in the delights of gluttony and sensuality. He wished to be happy; which is a desire, that from invincible necessity, attends every man; and consequently, if he had thought happiness consisted in corporeal enjoyments, he would industriously have fought after and embraced them. But let us delineate this matter, with greater nicety and exactness.
XXIX. There are two things to be considered in the doctrine of Epicurus; the one certain, the other questionable: the certain one is, what species of enjoyment it was, in which he thought happiness consisted. With regard to the first of these points, so far was he from falling in with, or adopting gross ideas, that it was always remarked, he expressed himself with more delicacy and propriety, and also more philosophically, than any of the philosophers of Paganism; some of whom make happiness to consist in riches, others in dominion, others in honours, others in health, others in fame, &c. Generally, if you attend to them, besides their erring in fundamentals, they reason with great impropriety, because they sometimes mistake for happiness, the object that produced it; and at others, the instrument that procured it. Epicurus, explains the matter in a direct way, and agreeable to the nature and essence of the thing itself, and not by its causes. He constitutes happiness, to consist in an act of the soul, and in this, all our most eminent theologians agree with him, and some of them likewise concur with him, with respect to the species of the act; for they, like Epicurus, place formal felicity, in delight, enjoyment, or fruition. This is a sentiment, which although it is not the most approved in the schools, seems to be upheld by those great authorities, Saint Austin, and Saint Thomas. Saint Austin in his first book de Doctrin. Christ. cap. 32, says, that the supreme reward which God bestows, is in the enjoyment of him: Hæc autem merces summa est, ut eo perfruamur; and in his eighth book de Civit. cap. 9. he expresses himself to this effect, that no one can be happy who does not enjoy his beloved object: Nemo beatus est, qui eo quod amat non fruitur. Saint Thomas 1. 2. quæst. 33. art. 3. in corp. distinguishing between the ultimate objective, and formal end of man, says, that the first is God, and the second fruition, or act of enjoying God; in which is included, the delight of possessing the ultimate end, and in this sense it may be said, that enjoyment is the summum bonum of man. Optimum in unaquaque re est ultimus finis. Finis autem, ut supradictum est, dupliciter dicitur, scilicet ipsa res, et usus rei, sicut finis avari est, vel pecunia, vel passio pecuniæ, et secundum hoc ultimus finis hominis dici potest, vel ipse Deus, qui est summum bonum simpliciter, vel fruitio ipsius, quæ importat delectationem quandam in ultimo fine; et per hunc modum aliqua delectatio hominis potest dici optimum inter bona humana.
XXX. Supposing then that Epicurus did not err, in placing all human felicity in enjoyment, all that can be urged against him is, that he mistook in assigning the object of this enjoyment; and I acknowledge that he did err in this particular; but at the same time that I make this acknowledgment, I must beg leave to alledge two things in his favour: the first is, that if he did err, his error was not accompanied with any dishonest design that tended to corrupt the manners of mankind: the second is, that he erred less than any of the other Gentile philosophers. In the first place, besides the testimonies we before produced, of the sobriety and continence of Epicurus, the thing is proved by his own writings. Among the few, which by the diligence of Diogenes Laertius have been rescued from oblivion; is his letter to Meceus, where he expounds his whole moral doctrine, and clearly points out and inculcates, that the enjoyment he means to assign as the constitutive principle of happiness, is that, which results from the blessings of health, bodily ease, and tranquillity of mind; but positively excludes indulgences in forbidden pleasures. The following words of his, which refute the malignant interpretation that has been put upon his doctrine, by his rivals, and many ignorant people, deserve particular attention: Constat igitur, quando voluptatem; beatæ vitæ dicimus finem, non intelligere nos eas voluptates, quæ sunt virorum luxu diffluentium, aut aliorum etiam, quatenus spectantur in ipsa actione fruendi, qua nimirum sensus jucundè, dulciterque afficitur, veluti quiddam ignorantes, aut a nobis dissentientes, aut alioquin adversum nos male affecti interpretantur; sed illud dumtaxat intelligimus, non dolere corpore, ac animo non perturbari. Siquidem non compotationes comessationesque perpetuæ, non ipsa puerorum mulierumque consuetudo, non piscium deliciæ, aut quæcumque aliæ mensæ lautioris cupediæ jucundam vitam pariunt, sed quæ cum sobrietate, sereneque adeo animo, est ratio, causas, cur quid eligendum, fugiendumve sit, investigans, ac opiniones abigens, ob quas plurima mentes occupat perturbatio.
XXXI. This doctrine, does not tend to promote any irregularity whatever in human life, for health of body, and serenity of mind, may very lawfully be wished for by any man; and there are men very spiritually disposed, who positively desire them, and are also solicitous about procuring them. It is however a mistaken notion, to place ultimate, or supreme felicity, in the enjoyment of them; but this is an error, which was common to all the Gentile philosophers, who every one of them, placed it on created objects. I say also, that the error of Epicurus in this respect, was less than that of any of the others, because he was at least right, with regard to the object on which he placed happiness, by speaking of it, as confined to sublunary things; but the other philosophers, did not even hit this nail on the head: for if we contemplate a man possessed of all those advantages, in which they maintained happiness consisted, such as riches, honours, fame, learning, &c. he may notwithstanding his possessing all these, lead a very unhappy and miserable life; because neither of them separately, nor all of them put together, can secure him from a thousand afflictions, that may be brought upon him, by numberless adverse accidents. For, suppose him to be learned, rich, and powerful, to whatever degree you please, none of these, can prevent the death of his esteemed friend; nor the infidelity of his beloved wife; nor can they insure him, that his children shall not turn out stupid or ill-disposed; nor can they shield him, from the stings and mortifications he is exposed to, from the malice of envious people, &c. But by attaining what Epicurus held happiness to consist in, that is health of body, and serenity of mind, a man, let what will happen to him, would at least live free from misery, and so long as he preserves these blessings of bodily health, and a serene state of mind, may be said to be a happy person, because he experiences no affliction, or anxiety.
XXXII. In opposition to this, some may reply, that the tenets of Zeno and the Stoics, who place all happiness in the practice of virtue, should be preferred to those of Epicurus. To which I answer, that this doctrine has a fine sound, but that it is false and ridiculous in the fundamental parts of it. I firmly believe, that the Stoics were the least sincere of all the ancient philosophers. A great critic of recent date, very humorously and properly called them the Pharisees of Paganism. The name of virtue was ever in their mouths, and the virtue they preached up, was of the most austere kind; but notwithstanding this, they in fact were as solicitous to promote their own temporal interests and convenience, as the most worldly of mankind. Seneca, that bright pattern of, and esteemed honour to the Stoic school, at the same time that he rolled in riches, and was living in the highest stile of pomp, and with the greatest profusion of luxury, to say nothing of his usury, vociferated loudly in favour of poverty; which strongly evinces, that the Stoics, without the exception of even Seneca himself, were hypocrites, who did not believe it was possible for any one to practise, the very virtue they had preached up. They would have had a learned and a wise man, arrive at being an insensible one; who while he was suffering the greatest torments, should appear cheerful and serene; and that he should seem no more affected with all the vexations that can be given him by mankind, than the sun seems to be, with the arrows that are discharged against Heaven; or, than the gods are with the blows that are given to their statues. Both the one and the other of these similies, are made use of by Seneca; from whence, it may evidently be inferred, that the virtue he recommended, was not only an ideal, but a chimerical one. The behaviour of Dionysius of Heraclea, shews very plainly, the extravagance of the Stoic philosophy. This philosopher, was for a long while a disciple and a sectary of Zeno’s, during all which time, he enjoyed a good state of health; but became afterwards afflicted with a severe disorder in his eyes, or as some say, in his kidneys; and indeed Cicero mentions them both: and finding that it was impossible under these afflictions, for him to enjoy that calmness and serenity of mind, which was so much recommended by Zeno, he abandoned his master’s school, and gave himself up to all sorts of debauchery.
XXXIII. Virtue is not only good, but even capable of making a man happy, if considered as a means; but contemplated according to the system of the Stoics, as the sum of all happiness, independent of any reward, except what results from itself, it is arduous and toilsome. I suppose that Saint Paul, was full as virtuous a man, as either Seneca or Zeno. And what did he say of virtue, as standing by itself, and considered, without relation to the reward of eternal happiness? Why the very reverse of what was said by those philosophers: Si in hac vita tantùm in Christo sperantes sumus, miserabiliores sumus omnibus hominibus. (1 ad Corinth. 15.) If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable. And why the most miserable? can it be because we are the most virtuous?
XXXIV. The point of religion, is the most tender one in all the doctrine of Epicurus. He admitted that there were gods, but maintained, that they had no hand in the direction, or management of human affairs. I, in truth, can conceive no error more absurd, than that of denying the existence of a deity, except it is, that of admitting there is such a being, and denying his providence. Some suppose that Epicurus, thought differently from what he spoke on this subject; that is, that he did not believe in the Heathen divinities; but, only acknowledged their existence, for fear of being punished if he had done otherwise. But the truth is, that he frequented the temples, and assisted devoutly at the sacrifices, insomuch, that Diogenes Laertius, extols him for his eminent devotion to, and respect for the gods: Sanctitatis quidem in Deos, et charitatis in patriam fuit in eo affectus ineffabilis. I say, some suppose that this was all hypocrisy: it may have been so, but there seems no reason to suspect, that he did not both speak and act with sincerity. For, admitting there have been philosophers, who have denied the existence of any deity, there can be no great difficulty in supposing, that there might be another, who conceived the existence of such a sort of deity only, as was idle and inactive, and who was a titular or honorary being, that was happy in himself, and divested of all care. The conceptions of men, are exceedingly strange and various; of which truth, we have an instance in Pliny the elder. This great man, who was sufficiently enlightened to be convinced, that the gods the Gentiles worshiped, were fabulous; and to be fully satisfied, that if there was a God, it must be one only God: yet, notwithstanding all this, he fell into the same error that Epicurus did; for, he said positively, that in case there was such a deity, he never interfered either little or much, with human affairs; and asserted, that it was ridiculous for any man to suppose he did: Irridendum verò agere curam verum humanarum illud quid quid est summum. But what is more, he looked upon this neglect of the government of the world, not as a defect, but as an excellence, precisely appertaining to the deity; and declared, that the admitting of his providence, was a degradation of his dignity: Anne tam tristi, multiplicique ministerio non pollui credamus, dubitemusve? If then one of the greatest men of antiquity, which Pliny unquestionably was, conceived inaction to be a perfection necessarily belonging to the deity, why should we be surprized that Epicurus adopted the same error? He, let this proceed from what principle it would, either the extravagance of his imagination, or artifice to disguise what the Athenians held to be impiety, lived unmolested in Athens, nor was there ever any prosecution instituted against him in that city, on the score of religion. If Diagoras had conducted himself in the same manner, he might have vented his furious choler, without danger of the Athenians pursuing him with fire and sword, and setting a price upon his head by proclamation; but this philosopher having continued for the greatest part of his life, superstitiously devoted to the gods, when he was advanced in years, all of a sudden turned Atheist; and his motive for doing this, was one of the most ridiculous in the world. Diagoras, was both a philosopher and a poet; and it happened, that one of the same profession, had purloined from Diagoras, certain verses which he had composed; for this, he convened him before the judges to answer for the plagiary; where the accused person was examined upon oath; and he swore falsely, that the verses were of his own composing. Diagoras could produce no witnesses to prove the fact against him, so the man was acquitted, and afterwards published the verses as his own, receiving the applauses for them, which were properly due to Diagoras; whose indignation was so inflamed at this, that it in a manner turned his head; and he, in the fulness of his wrath, began to write against the Grecian deities; and to publish to the world, that it was the most foolish thing imaginable, to suppose that there were gods; for if such beings had existed, they, instead of suffering the man who had injured him, to be crowned with unjust applause, would either not have permitted, or else would have punished his insolence. I say, that Diagoras, by adopting the theological system of Epicurus, might have vented his anger without endangering his head; as for the purpose of letting wickedness go unpunished, and reign triumphant in the world, the want of providence in the deity, would have the same effect, as the actual want of a deity, and the Athenians would have winked at that blasphemy, as they did at the blasphemy of Epicurus.
XXXV. But what is most to the point, will be to examine whether the theological error of Epicurus tended to produce any consequences, that might promote the disorderly life, which his rivals attribute, and which is vulgarly imputed to him. I confess, that he who would say of a man, who denies the existence of a deity, or if he admits of his existence, denies his providence, that he is a person of perverse manners, would generally be right in his judgment with regard to the facts, but would mistake in point of the propriety of his decision, if he only considered the error as the necessary consequence of an erroneous dogma. The reason is, because there are men who are without vices, only because they are without passions; and temperament has the same effect with them, that virtue has with other people. Vice necessarily supposes a man to be actuated by a depraved inclination, and the desires depend on the complexion of the individual. Thus he who is naturally of a very placid disposition, seldom shews any inclination to run into the excesses, of either gluttony, or lust, and whether he believed there was, or was not a God, and that if there was, he would not punish those excesses, he would still be temperate and chaste. I say the same of all other vices, and vicious passions. In reality, an atheist of good customs and manners, if he is a monster, is a monster we have sometimes seen. Pliny doubted whether there was a Deity, or if he did not doubt it, disbelieved his Providence; but with all this, nobody could cast the least imputation on his customs or manners; for he was temperate, sincere, and a lover of justice; and his writings are full of invectives against vice, which are expressed with such force and energy, that we can hardly doubt of their coming from his heart. To sum up the whole, two of the best emperors that were known in Rome in the days of paganism, Titus, and Vespasian, esteemed him much, and always confided to him most important employments. The famous atheist of these latter times, Benito Spinosa, always led a retired life, and kept himself constantly employed, either in study, or making telescopes and microscopes, and was a sober, continent, and pacific man. There were strong suspicions of atheism, against the Englishman Thomas Hobbes, but he never was accused of being addicted to any vice. Then why might not Epicurus, notwithstanding his mistaken faith, have lived exempt from the vices, of which he has been vulgarly accused? and this being not improbable, why should not we believe he did so, upon the credit of the many and grave testimonies that have been exhibited in his favour? If to this it should be replied, that the lives of atheists were made up of mere appearances, and deceptions, to escape either infamy or punishment; I answer, that for my purpose, this is sufficient, for that I never meant to insist, that Epicurus was a man truly virtuous, but only to shew, that what had been said of the turpitude of his moral doctrines, and of his gluttonies, and obscenities, was false and groundless.
XXXVI. The last presumptive charge against Epicurus, which is founded upon the dissolute lives of some of his sectaries, is totally contemptible. The argument urged against Epicurus, that some of the debauched pupils of his school interpreted his doctrines in favour of vice, is like that which is brought against the catholic church, on account of some introducers of novelties, having misunderstood or misinterpreted the gospel. There were two sorts of Epicureans known to antiquity, one of which were termed the rigid, and the others the relaxed ones. These last, were considered as the heretics of Epicurianism, and as deserters of the doctrine of Epicurus, although they retained the name of his sectaries. The authority of Cicero seems strongly to confirm this sentiment, who (lib. 2. de Finibus) says; Ac mihi quidem quod et ipse (Epicurus) bonus vir fuit, et multi Epicurei fuerunt, et hodie sunt, et amicitiis fideles, et in omni vita constantes, et graves, nec voluptate, sed consilio consilia moderantes, hoc videtur major vis honestatis, et minor voluptatis. If Epicurus then, was a good and an honest man, why should not those who under the name of his sectaries, led scandalous lives, be rejected as bastard Epicureans? And if among those who were called his sectaries, there were many good men, although there were many bad ones likewise; which of these should we esteem as the true and sincere expounders of the doctrine of Epicurus? ought it to be the first, or the last?
XXXVII. Pliny makes but a poor figure, in the eye of the inferior class of literary people, who look upon him as no better than an artful impostor, that filled his natural history with improbable tales. This has been occasioned principally, by some authors who are a kind of secret-mongers, and who deal in the marvellous, and have, in order to give a sanction to their writings, quoted the authority of Pliny, to justify many of the wonderful tales they relate; but these have not only quoted Pliny for what he never said, but have also had the effrontery to make use of his name, to patronize stories which he point-blank contemns and reprobates. Pliny frequently makes mention of the wonderful secrets, or strange operations of magic, but he always does it with derision and contempt; and treats the authors of them as mountebanks and impostors. I have always said, and I won’t retract my assertion; that you will not find in all Pliny, mention made of any secret of the portentous kind (and he relates many of that sort) which he does not reprobate as a ridiculous tale, and an absurd fiction, generally invented by those who call themselves magicians. Now what is the practice of the dealers in these kinds of secrets? Why they say, that they extracted the relations they give of them from the works of Pliny, but fraudulently conceal that Pliny, made a joke of them. How many silly people have been led to imagine, that there are those that can make themselves invisible whenever they please, and that the great secret of doing this, consists in carrying about them, what they call the sun-flower-stone, together with the plant that bears the same name. This wonderful receipt, may be seen in Pliny (lib. 37. cap. 10.) but you will also find there annexed to it, by Pliny, the strongest censure that can be expressed; for he says, that an extravagance of this kind is a clear proof, of the assurance and want of modesty in those who are called magicians, and shews plainly, to what a degree they are capable of lying. Magorum impudentiæ, vel manifestissimum in hos quosque, (that is the sun-flower-stone) exemplum est. He expresses himself to the same effect, in every other part of his writings where he speaks of magicians. In his thirtieth book, cap. 1. in one short sentence only, he condemns the whole farago of magical operations, and calls magic the most deceitful and fallacious of all arts, fraudulentissima artium.
XXXVIII. Even of the lesser sort of secrets, which do not border upon the incredible, such as medicinal ones commonly are, he speaks with so much circumspection, that he scarce ever says any thing affirmatively respecting them. He always, or nearly always, speaks doubtfully of them, and uses the terms, it is so said, or it is so believed; dicunt, tradunt, &c. and very often, he names the author who makes mention of them.
XXXIX. But as those are very few who know Pliny in his own works, and only see the miserable extracts that are made from them by puffing crafty people, they are led from thence to conclude, that Pliny was the author of all the ridiculous fictions that are imputed to him, by which means, this great writer has incurred the vulgar ignominious note, of being a man of little veracity, and one who could not be depended on.
XL. The worst is, (and although I could wish to conceal it, the sacred reverence due to truth obliges me to declare it) that not only secret-mongers, and mountebank puffers, have brought Pliny into this disesteem, but even authors of a very different character, have greatly contributed to discredit him. In how many philosophical writings, in how many printed sermons, and in how many moral and mystical essays, have we seen Pliny quoted as the legitimate author, of this or that fabulous tale? I am willing to believe, that the greatest part of them quote him, without the least design of injuring his fame, and relate what they say, from the quotations of others. But God defend us from a little preacher of bagatelles, having it in his power to bring Pliny into contempt, because some things which improperly go under his name, apply aptly as similies, or allusions to his chimeras; I say God defend us in such cases, that he, by quoting Pliny, should be enabled to shelter himself under his authority, as if the things he mentions came immediately from him!
XLI. Another cause of the discredit of Pliny, is the multitude of natural prodigies, which are for the most part false, that we find related in his history, especially those of monsters of a strange appearance, such as pigmies, men without heads, and with their eyes in their shoulders; others with canine or dogs heads; others again, who had only one eye, that was placed in the middle of their foreheads; others, with their feet turned backwards; others with two pupils to each eye; others, with feet so large, that they were capable of shading their whole bodies; others, who see better by night than by day; and of whole nations of Hermaphrodites; of a people, who support themselves wholly by smelling to perfumes; and of another people, where all the individuals are witches and wizards, &c. But as the Europeans of late years, have penetrated into, and explored nearly all the provinces of the world, but have found none of these species of monsters, some have suspected that they were all the children of Pliny’s brain, and others have been led to think, that Pliny had been indiscreet enough to believe them, upon the relations of lying travellers.
XLII. It is possible to refute, both the one and the other of these calumnies, and to support the refutation by good evidence. In the first place, Pliny subjoins to every one of these stories, the author from whom he took it. Secondly, prior to his giving the account of the multitude of prodigies he relates, he protests that he does not pledge himself as a voucher for the truth of them; and immediately refers the reader to the works of the authors from whence they were taken, that by examining them, he may have an opportunity of informing himself more fully, respecting any doubts he may entertain of them; Nec tamen ego in plerisque eorum obstringam fidem meam, potiusque ad auctores relegabo, qui dubiis reddentur omnibus.
XLIII. By way of summing up the defence of Pliny, we shall here recite the opinion, which some very learned men, and critics of the first note, have entertained, both of him and his natural history. Celius Rhodiginius, calls Pliny a most learned man, and adds, that none but unlearned ones, disrelish his writings. Gerard John Vossius, calls his history a great work, and one that can never be sufficiently applauded. Joseph Scaliger, pronounces that the natural history of Pliny, on account of its being so great and excellent, is not relished by vulgar understandings; Lansius, gives it the title of the Library of Nature; and Angelo Politianus, illustrates it with the epithet of a collection of all memorable things, and calls the author, the supreme judge of ingenuity, and a most acute, discreet, and admirable censor. The Jesuit Drexelius, proclaims him the most noble panegyrist of nature, and a man of prodigious erudition; and says in another place, that he is a most perspicuous scrutinizer, and delineator of nature. Justus Lipsius says, that there was nothing which Pliny had not read, and which he did not understand, and that his writings comprehended all the learning of the Greeks and Romans put together. The two eulogiums which remain for us to mention, apply more directly and immediately to the subject of this apology than any of the others. The first is that of Gulielmus Budeus, who gives him the attribute, of a man of the strictest veracity, for this is the true meaning of the expression Budeus makes use of, which is, veritatis antistes. Thomas Dempster bestows on him the epithets, of a most diligent and eloquent writer, and a man of incomparable veracity; and finally pronounces, that his writings were of more value, than those of all the other antient authors put together. Unus omnium instar. More cannot be said.
XLIV. I have always wondered, that the enlightened Doctor Gabriel Naudæus, should have taken no notice in his learned book, intituled, An apology for great men who have been suspected of magic, of Lucius Apuleius, against whom, the suspicions of magic are much more vulgarized, and with a better foundation of reason, than they are against many others he has mentioned. But let that omission have proceeded from what cause it will, we will at present endeavour to supply the defect, so that this essay may in some sense, be stiled an addition to Naudæus’s book.
XLV. The rumour of Apuleius being a magician, which began in his life-time, and was propagated after his death, is still preserved in the annals of vulgar literature. It is certain, that Apuleius was accused in form of the crime of magic, before Claudius Maximus, the proconsul of Africa; and also, that he acted as his own council and advocate through the whole course of the prosecution; and being a learned and eloquent man, defended himself admirably. This process, was instituted before a Gentile tribunal, where the judge, the culprit, and the accusers, were all pagans. After the death of Apuleius, the Gentiles spread the report of his magic, and the fame of it insinuated itself secretly and by degrees, among the Christians; by whom the tale has since been propagated in books of vulgar literature; but has never gained credit with learned men; who did not adopt the error, upon the assertions of ordinary writers; although there is nothing surprizes me more, than the learned Louis Vives, having made no scruple to affirm (In lib. 18. de Civit. cap. 18.) that the magic of Apuleius, was a certain, and well established fact.
XLVI. Apuleius was a native of Africa, and studied first in Carthage, afterwards in Athens; and last of all in Rome. He was a man of great ingenuity, and made large advances in a little time; so that in the flower of his youth, he returned to Africa an accomplished scholar, but very poor, he having consumed all his patrimony, in the expences of his travels and his education. His youth, his agreeable person, and his discretion, opened him a door, that afforded him entrance into a life of plenty and accommodation. A rich widow, named Prudentila, was captivated with the wit, and genteel personal appearance of Apuleius, and invited him to live in her house; which invitation ended in her marrying him. The relations of Prudentila’s first husband, by whom she had two sons, were much disgusted at this; and although one of the sons, who was named Pontianus, and was nearly arrived at man’s estate, professed a great friendship for Apuleius, and was assistant to him in bringing about the match; he became afterwards the instrument of the indignation of his relations, and joined with his brother and them, in accusing Apuleius of witchcraft. Their first allegation against him was, that he with magic arts, had seduced Prudentila, and won her heart; because that after having lived nine years a widow, without giving the least occasion for any suspicion of her continence, she, when advanced in years, and had sons nearly men grown, would not have had a propensity to matrimony, unless she had been excited to it by some unfair practices. They alledged secondly, that Apuleius superstitiously kept a magical hobgoblin, very carefully wrapt up in a piece of linen; and they alledged thirdly, that he must be an enchanter, for that Prudentila had written him a letter, in which she declared he had enchanted her; and this part of the letter they exhibited, to prove the charge.
XLVII. The reply we shall make to these heads of accusation, is that which Apuleius made himself to the court, and which is still preserved in his works. He treated the first allegation with derision, saying that it was unnecessary for a man possessed of the graces and accomplishments they had assigned him, to practise magic arts, to captivate the heart of a woman of forty years old, for that she was no older, although his accusers had asserted she was sixty. To this he added, that her physicians had advised her to marry, imputing to her continence, some indispositions she laboured under; and said further, that her son Poncianus had advised her, in case she did marry, to take his friend Apuleius for her husband.
XLVIII. In reality, nothing could be more ridiculous than this part of the accusation; but with all this, it was well received and much attended to by the vulgar; who upon perceiving, that a person who in other respects is prudent and cautious, has a passion for one of a different sex, begin immediately in their gossiping conversations, to impute it to magic potions; and this practice or notion is very antient. The same sort of rumour was circulated in Macedonia, against a woman of Thessaly, with whom, Philip the father of Alexander was greatly enamoured; but her absolution from the sin of witchcraft, came from a quarter from whence it might have been least expected, that is, from the injured Olympias, the wife of Philip. This queen contrived means to have the concubine of her husband brought into her presence; and upon viewing her beauty, and the gracefulness of her person, she, without further enquiry, pronounced sentence in her favour; and said to her, Ah, my child, how unjustly have you been calumniated, for you have no need of the arts of witchcraft, as your personal charms, added to the sprightliness of mind with which God has endowed you, are sufficient of themselves, to captivate the heart of any man.
XLIX. Nor is it of any avail to render probable a charge of witchcraft, to alledge, that a person of whose judgment and circumspection we have had long experience, should, in contradiction to the great opinion we had formed of his chastity, have been hurried away by an excessive passion of love, to act diametrically contrary to the former tenor of his conduct; for such a change, without having recourse to the power of magic, may be accounted for upon very rational and natural principles. There are those, who, but here and there an individual, have sufficient attraction to excite in them such a passion, and they go on to preserve the reputation of being rigorously chaste people, till their fate presents to their view, the steel, that is capable of striking fire into their flinty breasts; nor, to produce those kind of effects, is there any necessity for having recourse to sympathies, as these are things which can’t be explained; and all this business is performed by an occult mechanism, whose operations are not to be discerned, altho’ it causes the impressions objects make on us at different times, to vary, and produce different affections in us.
L. To the second article of accusation, he answered, that what he kept wrapt up in the piece of linen, was a kind of relique, token, or sacred symbol, of the mysterious worship of a certain deity, and that it had been given to him by some priests in Greece; which he proved in such a manner, as was satisfactory to the judge.
LI. In his reply to the third article of accusation, he loaded his accusers with ignominy, and filled them with confusion. The fact was, that the sentence of the letter of Prudentila, which they exhibited against him, when detached from the context of it, had the meaning which they alledged it to have, but when united to the other parts, and restored to the place from whence it was taken, it had a quite different signification. I shall insert the part of the letter from whence they extracted the sentence. Prudentila, after expostulating with her son Pontianus, and complaining that both he and his brother, incited to it by their relations, had embroiled themselves in a vindictive dispute with Apuleius, speaks thus to him: I having determined to marry, for the reasons I have recited to you, you yourself persuaded me to take Apuleius for a husband, preferable to any other man; and you being also a great admirer of his accomplishments, made him familiarly acquainted with me, for the purpose of bringing about the match; but now that you are stimulated to it by some vindictive and perverse persons, you insist, that Apuleius has suddenly turned magician, and has enchanted me. It is clear, that this is a manifest irony, and contains a lively reproof of their calumny; but the accusers exhibited no more than these last words of the letter: Apuleius has suddenly turned magician, and has enchanted me. Apuleius requested, that the whole letter might be read; and when that was done, the infamous cheat appeared in its proper colours.
LII. These reports of the magic of Apuleius, which did not exceed mere suspicions, and suspicions that were likewise ill founded, and which when they were first raised, were dissipated and driven away by his own masterly justification and defence of himself, revived after his death, and were augmented to such a degree, that at the period in which Christianity began to predominate, they came to be established almost every where by general consent, and by the voice of common fame. This appears from Lactantius, who in his refutation of the Pagan Hierocles, that was governor of Alexandria, and who, in a treatise he wrote to defeat the arguments of the Christians, which, in support of their faith, they founded on the miracles of Christ, insisted, that Apollonius Thyaneus, by the help of his magic, had done equal or greater things; upon which, Lactantius observes, that he wonders he had not joined to the miracles of Apollonius, those which were said to have been done by Apuleius: Voluit ostendere Appollonium, vel paria, vel etiam majora fecisse. Mirùm quod Apuleium prætermissit, cujus solent, et multa, et mira memorari. So that in those days, it appears that many miracles were said to have been done by Apuleius, and that he had the fame of being a great magician, and one that could vie, or stand in competition with Apollonius.
LIII. It appears also, that a century after the days of Lactantius, the rumour of the feats of Apuleius and Apollonius still existed, and seemed to have become more prevalent than they were before; and that the Gentiles, to discredit the miracles of Christ, urged the prodigies that had been done by Apollonius and Apuleius, and affirmed, that both the one and the other of them, had done greater things than our Saviour. This is evident, from the letter of Marcellinus to Saint Augustin, in which he requests the Saint to answer the objections, the Gentiles made to the miracles of our Saviour, and to refute the arguments they made use of to discredit them, which were founded, on the wonders that had been performed by those two magicians. He says to him: Precator accesserim, ut ad ea vigilantius respondere dignerit, in quibus, nihil amplius Dominum, quam alij homines facere potuerunt, fecisse, vel gessisse mentiuntur. Apollonium siquidem suum nobis, et Apuleium aliosque magicæ artis homines in medium proferunt, quorum majora contendunt extitisse miracula. The same thing appears from the second letter of Saint Agustin to Volussianus, and from his forty-ninth to the presbyter Deogratias.