idea which can possibly occupy his mind. Consider a
little; reflect what a figure the Deity would make if he were to be
idly thinking of nothing through all eternity but "It is very well with
me, and I am happy;" nor do I see why this happy Deity should not fear
being destroyed, since, without any intermission, he is driven and
agitated by an everlasting incursion of atoms, and since images are
constantly floating off from him. Your Deity, therefore, is neither
happy nor eternal.

Epicurus, it seems, has written books concerning sanctity and piety
towards the Gods. But how does he speak on these subjects? You would
say that you were listening to Coruncanius or Scaevola, the
high-priests, and not to a man who tore up all religion by the roots,
and who overthrew the temples and altars of the immortal Gods; not,
indeed, with hands, like Xerxes, but with arguments; for what reason is
there for your saying that men ought to worship the Gods, when the Gods
not only do not regard men, but are entirely careless of everything,
and absolutely do nothing at all?

But they are, you say, of so glorious and excellent a nature that a
wise man is induced by their excellence to adore them. Can there be any
glory or excellence in that nature which only contemplates its own
happiness, and neither will do, nor does, nor ever did anything?
Besides, what piety is due to a being from whom you receive nothing? Or
how can you, or any one else, be indebted to him who bestows no
benefits? For piety is only justice towards the Gods; but what right
have they to it, when there is no communication whatever between the
Gods and men? And sanctity is the knowledge of how we ought to worship
them; but I do not understand why they are to be worshipped, if we are
neither to receive nor expect any good from them.

XLII. And why should we worship them from an admiration only of that
nature in which we can behold nothing excellent? and as for that
freedom from superstition, which you are in the habit of boasting of so
much, it is easy to be free from that feeling when you have renounced
all belief in the power of the Gods; unless, indeed, you imagine that
Diagoras or Theodorus, who absolutely denied the being of the Gods,
could possibly be superstitious. I do not suppose that even Protagoras
could, who doubted whether there were Gods or not. The opinions of
these philosophers are not only destructive of superstition, which
arises from a vain fear of the Go