Letter 17: 1. Are we engaged in serious debate with each other, or is it your desire that we merely amuse ourselves? For, from the language of your letter, I am at a loss to know whether it is due to the weakness of your cause, or through the courteousness of your manners, that you have preferred to show yourself more witty than weighty in argument.

Augustine of HippoMaximus of Madaura|c. 389 AD|augustine hippo
education booksfriendshipgrief deathhumorproperty economicstravel mobility
Imperial politics; Persecution or exile; Travel & mobility

Augustine to Maximus of Madaura.

1. Are we having a serious discussion, or do you simply want us to amuse each other? From the tone of your letter, I honestly cannot tell whether it is the weakness of your position or the charm of your personality that has led you to be more witty than weighty in your arguments.

First, you drew a comparison between Mount Olympus and your marketplace — and I cannot fathom why, unless it was to remind me that Jupiter made that mountain his military camp during the war against his own father (as we learn from what your coreligionists call sacred history), and that in your marketplace Mars stands represented in two statues, one armed and one unarmed, while the image of a mere man, positioned opposite them, holds back their demonic fury from the townspeople with three outstretched fingers. Could I really believe you brought up that marketplace without intending to remind me of such divinities — unless, of course, you wanted this whole exchange to be playful rather than serious?

Now, regarding your claim that these gods are "members, so to speak, of the one great God" — I urge you, since you hold such a view, to be very careful about profane jesting of this kind. If you are speaking of the One God on whose existence the learned and unlearned agree (as the ancients have said), are you really claiming that beings whose savage fury — or their "power," if you prefer — is held in check by the statue of a dead man are members of Him? I could say much more on this point, and your own judgment can show you what an enormous opening for refutation you have provided. But I restrain myself, lest you think I am acting more as a rhetorician than as someone earnestly defending the truth.

2. As for your collection of certain Carthaginian names of deceased persons, by which you think you can reproach our religion in what seems to you a clever way — I am not sure whether I should answer this jab or let it pass. If these things strike your good sense as the trifles they really are, I have no time for such games. If, however, they seem important to you, I am surprised it did not occur to you — you who are so bothered by odd-sounding names — that your own religion has priests called Eucaddires and deities called Abaddires among its ranks. I do not suppose you forgot this while writing. More likely, with your usual courtesy and humor, you wanted to lighten the mood by reminding us both what absurdities your own superstition contains.

Surely, as an African yourself — with both of us living in Africa — you cannot have so far forgotten yourself as to think Punic names are fair game for mockery. If we look at what these words actually mean, "Namphanio" means nothing other than "man of the good foot" — that is, someone whose arrival brings good fortune, as we say of a person whose coming is followed by some lucky event: "he came with a fortunate step." And if you reject the Punic language, you effectively deny what the most learned scholars have acknowledged — that much wisdom has been preserved in Punic writings. Indeed, you ought to be ashamed of having been born in a country where that language's cradle is still warm. But if it is unreasonable to take offense at the mere sound of names, and you grant that I have explained the meaning correctly, then you have reason to be dissatisfied with your friend Virgil, who has Evander invite your god Hercules to sacred rites with the words: "Come to us, and to these rites, with auspicious foot." He wants Hercules to come as a Namphanio — the very name you find so hilarious at our expense.

If you have a taste for ridicule, you have ample material among your own gods: Stercutius the dung god, Cloacina the sewer goddess, the Bald Venus, the gods Fear and Pallor, the goddess Fever, and countless others of the same caliber, to whom the ancient Roman idolaters built temples and offered worship. If you neglect these, you are neglecting Roman gods — which means you are not exactly a thorough devotee of Roman religion yourself. And yet you pour contempt on Punic names as though you worship at every Roman altar.

3. In truth, I suspect you do not value these sacred rites any more than we do, and that you simply take from them some inexplicable amusement during your passage through this world. After all, you take refuge under Virgil's wing and defend yourself with his line: "Each is drawn by what delights him most." But if the authority of Virgil pleases you, as you indicate it does, you will also appreciate lines like these: "First Saturn came from lofty Olympus, fleeing before the arms of Jupiter, an exile stripped of his kingdom" — and other such passages in which the poet makes clear that Saturn and your other gods were simply human beings. He had read much history, confirmed by ancient authority. Cicero had read the same sources and says as much in his dialogues, in terms more explicit than we ourselves would venture to press, working to bring this truth to light as far as his times allowed.

4. As for your claim that your religion is superior to ours because you worship in public while we use more private meeting places — first, have you forgotten your own Bacchus, whose rites you consider it right to reveal only to the initiated few? Actually, I think by mentioning your "public" ceremonies you intended to make sure we would picture your magistrates and leading citizens drunk and raving through the streets. In that spectacle, if you truly are possessed by a god, you surely see what kind of deity he must be — one who robs people of their reason. If, on the other hand, the frenzy is only pretended, then what is the point of all this secrecy in a worship you boast of as public? And what good purpose does so degrading a deception serve? Furthermore, why do you not prophesy the future in your ritual songs, if you truly have the gift of prophecy? And why do you rob bystanders, if you are actually in your right mind?

5. Since your letter has reminded me of these things and others I prefer to pass over for now — why should we not make sport of your gods, which, as everyone who knows your mind and has read your letters is well aware, you yourself mock abundantly? If you want a discussion that befits your years and wisdom, and that meets the just expectations of our dearest friends, then find a topic worthy of genuine debate between us. Be careful to say on behalf of your gods only what will prevent us from thinking you are deliberately undermining your own case — since so far you have reminded us more of things that can be said against them than offered anything in their defense.

Let me close, however, with something you may not know, lest you unknowingly stray into profane jesting: know that among the Catholic Christians (who have established a church in your own town as well), no deceased person is worshipped, and nothing fashioned or made by God is worshipped as a divine power. Their worship is rendered only to God himself — the one who made and fashioned all things.

These matters will be treated more fully, with the help of the one true God, whenever I learn that you are disposed to discuss them seriously.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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