On the Anger of God
Lactantius, a Christian apologist from the 3rd century A.D. and tutor to the
son of the Emperor Constantine, devoted chapters 4, 8 through 10, and 15 and part of 17 of "On the Anger of God" to attacking
the Epicurean doctrine that a perfect being would never display anger or suffer any other emotional disturbances. In a wide-ranging
attack on many aspects of Epicurean philosophy, he accuses Epicureanism of being implicitly atheistic and quotes Epicurus's
famous argument regarding the problem of evil:
CHAPTER 4 -- OF GOD AND HIS AFFECTIONS, AND THE CENSURE OF EPICURUS.
That which follows is concerning the school of Epicurus; that as there is no anger in God, so
indeed there is no kindness. For when Epicurus thought that it was inconsistent with God to injure and to inflict harm, which
for the most part arises from the affection of anger, he took away from Him beneficence also, since he saw that it followed
that if God has anger, He must also have kindness. Therefore, lest he should concede to Him a vice, he deprived Him also of
virtue? From this, he says, He is happy and uncorrupted, because He cares about nothing, and neither takes trouble Himself
nor occasions it to another. Therefore He is not God, if He is neither moved, which is peculiar to a living being, nor does
anything impossible for man, which is peculiar to God, if He has no will at all, no action, in short, no administration, which
is worthy of God. And what greater, what more worthy administration can be attributed to God, than the government of the world,
and especially of the human race, to which all earthly things are subject?
What happiness, then, can there be in God, if He is always inactive, being at rest and un-moveable?
if He is deaf to those who pray to Him, and blind to His worshippers? What is so worthy of God, and so befitting to Him, as
providence? But if He cares for nothing, and foresees nothing, He has lost all His divinity. What else does he say, who takes
from God all power and all substance, except that there is no God at all? In short, Marcus Tullius relates that it was said
by Posidonius, that Epicurus understood that there were no gods, but that he said those things which he spoke respecting the
gods for the sake of driving away odium; and so that he leaves the gods in words, but takes them away in reality, since he
gives them no motion, no office. But if this is so, what can be more deceitful than him? And this ought to be foreign to the
character of a wise and weighty man.
But if he understood one thing and spoke another, what else is he to be called than a deceiver,
double-tongued, wicked, and moreover foolish? But Epicurus was not so crafty as to say those things with the desire of deceiving,
when he consigned these things also by his writings to everlasting remembrance; but he erred through ignorance of the truth.
For, being led from the beginning by the probability of a single opinion, he necessarily fell into those things which followed.
For the first opinion was, that anger was not consistent with the character of God. And when this appeared to him to be true
and unassailable, he was unable to refuse the consequences; because one affection being removed, necessity itself compelled
him to remove from God the other affections also. Thus, he who is not subject to anger is plainly uninfluenced by kindness,
which is the opposite feeling to anger. Now, if there is neither anger nor kindness in Him, it is manifest that there is neither
fear, nor joy, nor grief, nor pity. For all the affections have one system, one motion, which cannot he the case with God.
But if there is no affection in God, because whatever is subject to affections is weak, it follows
that there is in Him neither the care of anything, nor providence.
The disputation of the wise man extends thus far: he was silent as to the other things which
follow; namely, that because there is in Him neither care nor providence, therefore there is no reflection nor any perception
in Him, by which it is effected that He has no existence at all. Thus, when he had gradually descended, he remained on the
last step, because he now saw the precipice. But what does it avail to have remained silent, and concealed the danger? Necessity
compelled him even against his will to fall. For he said that which he did not mean, because he so arranged his argument that
he necessarily came to that point which he wished to avoid. You see, therefore, to what point he comes, when anger is removed
and taken away from God. In short, either no one believes that, or a very few, and they the guilty and the wicked, who hope
for impunity for their sins. But if this also is found to be false, that there is neither anger nor kindness in God, let us
come to that which is put in the third place.
[ . . . . ]
CHAPTER 8 -- OF RELIGION.
But religion is overthrown if we believe Epicurus speaking thus:
"For the nature of gods must ever in itself of necessity enjoy immortality together with supreme repose, far removed
and withdrawn from our concerns; since, exempt from every pain, exempt from all dangers, strong in its own resources, not
wanting aught of us, it is neither gained by favours nor moved by anger."
Now, when he says these things, does he think that any worship is to be paid to God, or does
he entirely overthrow religion? For if God confers nothing good on any one, if He repays the obedience of His worshipper with
no favour, what is so senseless, what so foolish, as to build temples, to offer sacrifices, to present gifts, to diminish
our property, that we may obtain nothing? But (it will be said) it is right that an excellent nature should be honoured. What
honour can be due to a being who pays no regard to us, and is ungrateful? Can we be bound in any manner to him who has nothing
in common with us? "Farewell to God," says Cicero, "if He is such as to be influenced by no favour, and by no affection of
men. For why should I say 'may He be propitious? for He can be propitious to no one." What can be spoken more contemptible
with respect to God? Farewell to Him, he says, that is, let Him depart anti retire, since He is able to profit no one.
But if God takes no trouble, nor occasions trouble to another why then should we not commit
crimes as often as it shall be in our power to escape the notice of men? and to cheat the public laws? Wherever we shall obtain
a favourable opportunity of escaping notice, let us take advantage of the occasion: let us take away the property of others,
either without bloodshed or even with blood, if there is nothing else besides the laws to be reverenced.
While Epicurus entertains these sentiments, he altogether destroys religion; and when this is
taken away, confusion and perturbation of life will follow. But if religion cannot be taken away without destroying our hold
of wisdom, by which we are separated from the brutes, and of justice, by which the public life may be more secure, how can
religion itself be maintained or guarded without fear? For that which is not feared is despised, and that which is despised
is plainly not reverenced. Thus it comes to pass that religion, and majesty, and honour exist together with fear; but there
is no fear where no one is angry. Whether, therefore, you take away from God kindness, or anger, or both, religion must be
taken away, without which the life of men is full of folly, of wickedness, and enormity. For conscience greatly curbs men,
if we believe that we are living in the sight of God; if we imagine not only that the actions which we perform are seen from
above, but also that our thoughts and our words are heard by God.
But it is profitable to believe this, as some imagine, not for the sake of the truth, but of
utility, since laws cannot punish conscience unless some terror from above hangs over to restrain offences. Therefore religion
is altogether false, and there is no divinity; but all things are made up by skilful men, in order that they may live more
uprightly and innocently. This is a great question, and foreign to the subject which we have proposed; but because it necessarily
occurs, it ought to be handled, however briefly.
CHAPTER 9 -- OF THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD, AND OF OPINIONS OPPOSED TO IT.
When the philosophers of former times had agreed in their opinions respecting providence, and
there was no doubt but that the world was set in order by God and reason, and was governed by reason, Protagoras, in the times
of Socrates, was the first of all who said that it was not clear to him whether there was any divinity or not. And this disputation
of his was judged so impious, and so contrary to the truth and to religion, that the Athenians both banished him from their
territories, and burnt in a public assembly those books of his in which these statements were contained. But there is no need
to speak respecting his opinions, because he pronounced nothing certain. After these things Socrates and his disciple Plato,
and those who flowed forth from the school of Plato like rivulets into different directions, namely, the Stoics and Peripatetics,
were of the same opinion as those who went before them.
Afterwards Epicurus said that there was indeed a God, because it was necessary that there should
be in the world some being of surpassing excellence, distinction, and blessedness; yet that there was no providence, and thus
that the world itself was ordered by no plan, nor art, nor workmanship, but that the universe was made up of certain minute
and indivisible seeds. But I do not see what can be said more repugnant to the truth. For if there is a God, as God He is
manifestly provident; nor can divinity be attributed to Him in any other way than if He retains the past, and knows the present,
and foresees the future. Therefore, in taking away providence, he also denied the existence of God. But when he openly acknowledged
the existence of God, at the same time he also admitted His providence for the one cannot exist at all, or be understood,
without the other.
But in those later times in which philosophy had now lost its vigour, there lived a certain
Diagoras of Melos, who altogether denied the existence of God, and on account of this sentiment was called atheist; also Theodorus
of Cyrene: both of whom, because they were unable to discover anything new, all things having already been said and found
out, preferred even, in opposition to the truth, to deny that in which all preceding philosophers had agreed without any ambiguity.
These are they who attacked providence, which had been asserted and defended through so many ages by so many intellects. What
then? Shall we refute those trifling and inactive philosophers by reason, or by the authority of distinguished men, or rather
by both? But we must hasten onwards, lest our speech should wander too far from our subject.
CHAPTER 10 -- OF THE ORIGIN OF THE WORLD, AND THE NATURE OF AFFAIRS, AND THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.
They who do not admit that the world was made by divine providence, either say that it is composed
of first principles coming together at random, or that it suddenly came into existence by nature, but hold, as Straton does,
that nature has in itself the power of production and of diminution, but that it has neither sensibility nor figure, so that
we may understand that all things were produced spontaneously, without any artificer or author. Each opinion is vain and impossible.
But this happens to those who are ignorant of the truth, that they devise anything, rather than perceive that which the nature
of the subject requires. First of all, with respect to those minute seeds, by the meeting together of which they say that
the whole world came into existence, I ask where or whence they are. Who has seen them at any time? Who has perceived them?
Who has heard them? Had none but Leucippus eyes?
Had he alone a mind, who assuredly alone of all men was blind and senseless, since he spoke
those things which no sick man could have uttered in his ravings, or one asleep in his dreams?
The ancient philosophers argued that all things were made up of four elements. He would not
admit this, lest he should appear to tread in the footsteps of others; but he held that there were other first principles
of the elements themselves, which can neither be seen, nor touched, nor be perceived by any part of the body. They are so
minute, he says, that there is no edge of a sword so flue that they can be cut and divided by it. From which circumstance
he gave them the name of atoms. But it occurred to him, that if they all had one and the same nature, they could not make
up different objects of so great a variety as we see to be present in the world. He said, therefore, that there were smooth
and rough ones, and round, and angular, and hooked. How much better had it been to be silent, than to have a tongue for such
miserable and empty uses! And, indeed, I fear lest he who thinks these things worthy of refutation, should appear no less
to rave. Let us, however, reply as to one who says something. If they are soft and round, it is plain that they cannot lay
hold of one another, so as to make some body; as, though any one should wish to bind together millet into one combination,
the very softness of the grains would not permit them to come together into a mass. If they are rough, and angular, and hooked,
so that they may be able to cohere, then they are divisible, and capable of being cut; for hooks and angles must project,
so that they may possibly be cut off.
Therefore that which is able to be cut off and torn away, will be able both to be seen and held.
"These," he says, "flutter about with restless motions through empty space, and are carried hither and thither, just as we
see little particles of dust in the sun when it has introduced its rays and light through a window. From these there arise
trees and herbs, and all fruits of the earth; from these, animals, and water, and fire, and all things are produced, and are
again resolved into the same elements." This can be borne as long as the inquiry is respecting small matters. Even the world
itself was made up of these.
He has reached to the full extent of perfect madness: it seems impossible that anything further
should be said, and yet he found something to add. "Since everything," he says, "is infinite, and nothing can be empty, it
follows of necessity that there are innumerable worlds." What force of atoms had been so great, that masses so incalculable
should be collected from such minute elements? And first of all I ask, What is the nature or origin of those seeds? For if
all things are from them, whence shall we say that they themselves are? What nature supplied such an abundance of matter for
the making of innumerable worlds? But let us grant that he raved with impunity concerning worlds; let us speak respecting
this in which we are, and which we see. He says that all things are made from minute bodies which are incapable of division.
If this were so, no object would ever need the seed of its own kind. Birds would be born without
eggs, or eggs without bringing forth; likewise the rest of the living creatures without coition: trees and the productions
of the earth would not have their own seeds, which we daily handle and sow. Why does a corn-field arise from grain, and again
grain from a corn-field? In short, if the meeting together and collecting of atoms would effect all things, all things would
grow together in the air, since atoms flutter about through empty space. Why cannot the herb, why cannot the tree or grain,
arise or be increased without earth, without roots, without moisture, without seed? From which it is evident that nothing
is made up from atoms, since everything has its own peculiar and fixed nature, its own seed, its own law given from the beginning.
Finally, Lucretius, as though forgetful of atoms, which he was maintaining, in order that he
might refute those who say that all things are produced from nothing, employed these arguments, which might have weighed against
For he thus spoke:
"If things came from nothing, any kind might be born of anything; nothing would require seed."
"We must admit, therefore, that nothing can come from nothing, since things require seed before they can severally
be born, and be brought out into the buxom fields of air."
Who would imagine that he had brain when he said these things, and did not see that they were
contrary to one another? For that nothing is made by means of atoms, is apparent from this, that everything has a definite
seed, unless by chance we shall believe that the nature both of fire and water is derived from atoms. Why should I say, that
if materials of the greatest hardness are struck together with a violent blow, fire is struck out? Are atoms concealed in
the steel, or in the flint? Who shut them in? Or why do they not leap forth spontaneously? Or how could the seeds of fire
remain in a material of the greatest coldness?
I leave the subject of the flint and steel. If you hold in the sun an orb of crystal filled
with water, fire is kindled from the light which is reflected from the water, even in the most severe cold. Must we then believe
that fire is contained in the water? And yet fire cannot be kindled from the sun even in summer. If you shall breathe upon
wax, or if a light vapour shall touch anything -- either the hard surface of marble or a plate of metal -- water is gradually
condensed by means of the most minute drops. Also from the exhalation of the earth or sea mist is formed, which either, being
dispersed, moistens whatever it has covered, or being collected, is carried aloft by the wind to high mountains, and compressed
into cloud, and sends down great rains. Where, then, do we say that fluids are produced? Is it in the vapour? Or in the exhalation?
Or in the wind? But nothing can be formed in that which is neither touched nor seen.
Why should I speak of animals, in whose bodies we see nothing formed without pan, without arrangement,
without utility, without beauty, so that the most skilful and careful marking out of all the parts and members repels the
idea of accident and chance? But let us suppose it possible that the limbs, and bones, and nerves, and blood should be made
up of atoms. What of the senses, the reflection, the memory, the mind, the natural capacity: from what seeds can they be compacted?
He says, From the most minute. There are therefore others of greater size. How, then, are they indivisible?
In the next place, if the things which are not seen are formed from invisible seeds, it follows
that those which are seen are from visible seeds. Why, then, does no one see them? But whether any one regards the invisible
parts which are in man, or the parts which can be touched, and which are visible, who does not see that both parts exist in
accordance with design? How, then, can bodies which meet together without design effect anything reasonable? For we see that
there is nothing in the whole world which has not in itself very great and wonderful design. And since this is above the sense
and capacity of man, to what can it be more rightly attributed than to the divine providence? If a statue, the resemblance
of man, is made by the exercise of design and art, shall we suppose that man himself is made up of fragments which come together
at random? And what resemblance to the truth is there in the thing produced, when the greatest and most surpassing skill can
imitate nothing more than the mere outline and extreme lineaments of the body? Was the skill of man able to give to his production
any motion or sensibility?
I say nothing of the exercise of the sight, of hearing, and of smelling, and the wonderful uses
of the other members, either those which are in sight or those which are hidden from view. What artificer could have fabricated
either the heart of man, or the voice, or his very wisdom? Does any man of sound mind, therefore, think that that which man
cannot do by reason and judgement, may be accomplished by a meeting together of atoms everywhere adhering to each other? You
see into what foolish ravings they have fallen, while they are unwilling to assign to God the making and the care of all things.
Let us, however, concede to them that the things which are earthly are made froth atoms: are
the things also which are heavenly? They say that the gods are without contamination, eternal, and blessed; and they grant
to them alone an exemption, so that they do not appear to be made up of a meeting together of atoms. For if the gods also
had been made up of these, they would be liable to be dispersed, the seeds at length being resolved, and returning to their
own nature. Therefore, if there is something which the atoms could not produce, why may we not judge in the same way of the
But I ask why the gods did not build for themselves a dwelling-place before those first elements
produced the world? It is manifest that, unless the atoms had come together and made the heaven, the gods would still be suspended
through the midst of empty space. By what counsel, then, by what plan, did the atoms from a confused mass collect themselves,
so that from some the earth below was formed into a globe, and the heaven stretched out above, adorned with so great a variety
of constellations that nothing can be conceived more embellished? Can he, therefore, who sees such and so great objects, imagine
that they were made without any design, without any providence, without any divine intelligence, but that such great and wonderful
things arose out of fine and minute atoms? Does it not resemble a prodigy, that there should be any human being who might
say these things, or that there should be those who might believe them--as Democritus, who was his hearer, or Epicurus, to
whom all folly flowed forth from the fountain of Leucippus?
But, as others say, the world was made by Nature, which is without perception and figure. But
this is much more absurd. If Nature made the world, it must have made it by judgment and intelligence; for it is lie that
makes something who has either the inclination to make it, or knowledge. If nature is without perception and figure, how can
that be made by it which has both perception and figure, unless by chance any one thinks that the fabric of animals, which
is so delicate, could have been formed and animated by that which is without perception, or that that figure of heaven, which
is prepared with such foresight for the uses of living beings, suddenly came into existence by some accident or other, without
a builder, without an artificer?
"If there is anything," says Chrysippus, "which effects those things which man, though he is
endowed with reason, cannot do, that assuredly is greater, and stronger, and wiser than man." But man cannot make heavenly
things; therefore that which shall produce or has produced these things surpasses man in art, in design, in skill, and in
power. Who, therefore, can it be but God? But Nature, which they suppose to be, as it were, the mother of all things, if it
has not a mind, will effect nothing, will contrive nothing; for where there is no reflection there is neither motion nor efficacy.
But if it uses counsel for the commencement of anything, reason for its arrangement, art for its accomplishment, energy for
its consummation, and power to govern and control, why should it be called Nature rather than God? Or if a concourse of atoms,
or Nature without mind, made those things which we see, I ask why it was able to make the heaven, but unable to make a city
or a house? Why it made mountains of marble, but did not make columns and statues? But ought not atoms to have come together
to effect these things, since they leave no position untried?
For concerning Nature, which has no mind, it is no wonder that it forgot to do these things.
What, then, is the case? It is plain that God, when He commenced this work of the world -- than which nothing can be better
arranged with respect to order, nor more befitting as to utility, nor more adorned as to beauty, nor greater as to bulk --
Himself made the things which could not be made by man; and among these also man himself, to whom He gave a portion of His
own wisdom, and furnished him with reason, as much as earthly frailty was capable of receiving, that he might make for himself
the things which were necessary for his own uses.
But if in the commonwealth of this world, so to speak, there is no providence which rules, no
God who administers, no sense at all prevails in this nature of things. From what source therefore will it be believed that
the human mind, with its skill and its intelligence, had its origin? For if the body of man was made from the ground, from
which circumstance man received his name; it follows that the soul, which has intelligence, and is the ruler of the body,
which the limbs obey as a king and commander, which can neither be looked upon nor comprehended, could not have come to man
except from a wise nature. But as mind and soul govern everybody, so also does God govern the world. For it is not probable
that lesser and humble things bear rule, but that greater and highest things do not bear rule.
In short, Marcus Cicero, in his Tusculan Disputations, and in his Consolation,
says: "No origin of souls can be found on earth. For there is nothing, he says, mixed and compound in souls, or which may
appear to be produced and made up from the earth; nothing moist or airy, or of the nature of fire.
For in these natures there is nothing which has the force of memory, of mind and reflection,
which both retains the past and foresees the future, and is able to comprise the present; which things alone are divine. For
no source will ever be found from which they are able to come to man, unless it be from God." Since, therefore, with the exception
of two or three vain calumniators, it is agreed upon that the world is governed by providence, as also it was made, and there
is no one who ventures to prefer the opinion of Diagoras and Theodorus, or the empty fiction of Leucippus, or the levity of
Democritus and Epicurus, either to the authority of those seven ancient men who were called wise, or to that of Pythagoras
or of Socrates or Plato, and the other philosophers who judged that there is a providence; therefore that opinion also is
false, by which they think that religion was instituted by wise men for the sake of terror and fear, in order that ignorant
men might abstain from sins.
But if this is true, it follows that we are derided by the wise men of old. But if they invented
religion for the sake of deceiving us, and moreover of deceiving the whole human race, therefore they were not wise, because
falsehood is not consistent with the character of the wise man. But grant that they were wise; what great success in falsehood
was it, that they were able to deceive not only the unlearned, but Plato also, and Socrates, and so easily to delude Pythagoras,
Zeno, and Aristotle, the chiefs of the greatest sects? There is therefore a divine providence, as those men whom I have named
perceived, by the energy and power of which all things which we see were both made and are governed. For so vast a system
of things, such arrangement and such regularity in preserving the settled orders and times, could neither at first have arisen
without a provident artificer, or have existed so many ages without a powerful inhabitant, or have been perpetually governed
without a skilful and intelligent ruler; and reason itself declares this.
For whatever exists which has reason, must have arisen from reason. Now reason is the part of
an intelligent and wise nature; but a wise and intelligent nature can be nothing else than God. Now the world, since it has
reason, by which it is both governed and kept together, was therefore made by God. But if God is the maker and ruler of the
world, then religion is rightly and truly established; for honor and worship are due to the author and common parent of all
[ . . . . ]
CHAPTER 15 -- WHENCE SINS EXTENDED TO MAN.
Here perhaps some one may ask, Whence sins extended to man, or what perversion distorted the
rule of the divine institution to worse things, so that, though he was born to justice, he nevertheless performs unjust works.
I have already in a former place explained, that God at the same time set before him good and evil, and that He loves the
good, and hates the evil which is contrary to this; but that He permitted the evil on this account, that the good also might
shine forth, since, as I have often taught, we understand that the one cannot exist without the other; in short, that the
world itself is made up of two elements opposing and connected with one another, of fire and moisture, and that light could
not have been made unless there has also been darkness, since there cannot be a higher place without a lower, nor a rising
without a setting, nor warmth without cold, nor softness without hardness.
Thus also we are composed of two substances equally opposed to one another -- soul and body:
the one of which is assigned to the heaven, because it is slight and not to be handled; the other to the earth, because it
is capable of being laid hold of: the one is firm and eternal, the other frail and mortal. Therefore good clings to the one,
and evil to the other: light, life, and justice to the one; darkness, death, and injustice to the other. Hence there arose
among men the corruption of their nature, so that it was necessary that a law should be established, by which vices might
be prohibited, and the duties of virtue be en-joined. Since, therefore, there are good and evil things in the affairs of men,
the nature of which I have set forth, it must be that God is moved to both sides, both to favour when He sees that just things
are done, and to anger when He perceives unjust things.
But Epicurus opposes us, and says: "If there is in God the affection of joy leading Him to favour,
and of hatred influencing Him to anger, He must of necessity have both fear, and inclination, and desire, and the other affections
which belong to human weakness." It does not follow that he who is angry must fear, or that he who feels joy must grieve;
in short, they who are liable to anger are less timid, and they who are of a joyful temperament are less affected with grief.
What need is there to speak of the affections of humanity, to which our nature yields? Let us weigh the divine necessity;
for I am unwilling to speak of nature, since it is believed that our God was never born. The affection of fear has a subject-matter
in man, but it has none in God.
Man, inasmuch as he is liable to many accidents and dangers, fears lest any greater violence
should arise which may strike, despoil, lacerate, dash down, and destroy him. But God, who is liable neither to want, nor
injury, nor pain, nor death, can by no means fear, because there is nothing which can offer violence to Him. Also the reason
and cause of desire is manifest in man.
For, inasmuch as he was made frail and mortal, it was necessary that another and different sex
should be made, by union with which offspring might be produced to continue the perpetuity of his race. But this desire has
no place in God, because frailty and death are far removed from Him; nor is there with Him any female in whose union He is
able to rejoice; nor does He stand in need of succession, since He will live for ever.
The same things may be said respecting envy and passion, to which, from sure and manifest causes,
man is liable, but to which God is by no means liable. But, in truth, favour and anger and pity have their substance in God,
and that greatest and matchless power employs them for the preservation of the world.
[ . . . . ]
CHAPTER 17 -- OF GOD, HIS CARE AND ANGER.
God, says Epicurus, regards nothing; therefore He has no power. For he who has power must of
necessity regard affairs. For if He has power, and does not use it, what so great cause is there that, I will not say our
race, but even the universe itself, should be contemptible in His sight? On this account he says He is pure and happy, because
He is always at rest. To whom, then, has the administration of so great affairs been entrusted, if these things which we see
to be governed by the highest judgment are neglected by God? or how can he who lives and perceives be at rest? For rest belongs
either to sleep or to death. But sleep has not rest. For when we are asleep, the body indeed is at rest, but the soul is restless
and agitated: it forms for itself images which it may behold, so that it exercises its natural power of motion by a variety
of visions, and calls itself away from false things, until the limbs are satiated, and receive vigour from rest. Therefore
eternal rest belongs to death alone.
Now if death does not affect God, it follows that God is never at rest. But in what can the
action of God consist, but in the administration of the world? But if God carries on the care of the world, it follows that
He cares for the life of men, and takes notice of the acts of individuals, and He earnestly desires that they should be wise
and good. This is the will of God, this the divine law; and he who follows and observes this is beloved by God.
It is necessary that He should be moved with anger against the man who has broken or despised
this eternal and divine law. If, he says, God does harm to any one, therefore He is not good. They are deceived by no slight
error who defame all censure, whether human or divine, with the name of bitterness and malice, thinking that He ought to be
called injurious who visits the injurious with punishment. But if this is so, it follows that we have injurious laws, which
enact punishment for offenders, and injurious judges who inflict capital punishments on those convicted of crime. But if the
law is just which awards to the transgressor his due, and if the judge is called upright and good when he punishes crimes
-- for he guards the safety of good men who punishes the evil -- it follows that God, when He opposes the evil, is not injurious;
but he himself is injurious who either injures an innocent man, or spares an injurious person that he may injure many.
I would gladly ask from those who represent God as immoveable, if any one had property, a house,
a household of slaves, and his slaves, despising the forbearance of their master, should attack all things, and themselves
take the enjoyment of his goods, if his household should honour them, while the master was despised by all, insulted, and
deserted: could he be a wise man who should not avenge the insults, but permit those over whom he had power to have the enjoyment
of his property? Can such forbearance be found in any one? If, indeed, it is to be called forbearance, and not rather a kind
of insensible stupor.
But it is easy to endure contempt. What if those things were done which are spoken of by Cicero?
"For I ask, if any head of a family, when his children had been put to death by a slave, his wife slain and his house set
on fire, should not exact most severe punishment from that slave, whether he would appear to be kind and merciful, or inhuman
and most cruel?" But if to pardon deeds of this kind is the part of cruelty rather than of kindness, it is not therefore the
part of goodness in God not to be moved at those things which are done unjustly. For the world is, as it were, the house of
God, and men, as it were, His slaves; and if His name is a mockery to them, what kind or amount of forbearance is it to give
up His own honours, to see wicked and unjust things done, and not to be indignant, which is peculiar and natural to Him who
is displeased with sins!
To be angry, therefore, is the part of reason: for thus faults are removed, and licentiousness
is curbed; and this is plainly in accordance with justice and wisdom.
[ . . . . ]
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