Caius Marcius Coriolanus

These words were actually uttered twice, as the story runs, which would have us believe what is difficult of belief and probably never happened. For that statues have appeared to sweat, and shed tears, and exude something like drops of blood, is not impossible; since wood and stone often contract a mould which is productive of moisture, and cover themselves with many colours, and receive tints from the atmosphere; and there is nothing in the way of believing that the Deity uses these phenomena sometimes as signs and portents.

It is possible also that statues may emit a noise like a moan or a groan, by reason of a fracture or a rupture, which is more violent if it takes place in the interior. But that articulate speech, and language so clear and abundant and precise, should proceed from a lifeless thing, is altogether impossible; since not even the soul of man, or the Deity, without a body duly organized and fitted with vocal parts, has ever spoken and conversed.

But where history forces our assent with numerous and credible witnesses, we must conclude that an experience different from that of sensation arises in the imaginative part of the soul, and persuades men to think it sensation; as, for instance, in sleep, when we think we see and hear, although we neither see nor hear. However, those who cherish strong feelings of good-will and affection for the Deity, and are therefore unable to reject or deny anything of this kind, have a strong argument for their faith in the wonderful and transcendent character of the divine power.

For the Deity has no resemblance whatever to man, either in nature, activity, skill, or strength; nor, if He does something that we cannot do, or contrives something that we cannot contrive, is this contrary to reason; but rather, since He differs from us in all points, in His works most of all is He unlike us and far removed from us. But most or the Deity’s powers, as Heracleitus says,[*](Fragment 116 (Bywater, p. 45))

escape our knowledge through incredulity.

But as for Marcius, when he came back to Antium from his expedition, Tullus, who had long hated him and been oppressed with jealousy of him, plotted to take him off at once, believing that if his enemy escaped him now, he would never give him another chance to seize him. Having, therefore, arrayed a large party against him, he bade him lay down his command and give the Volscians an account of his administration.

But Marcius, afraid of being reduced to private station when Tullus was in command and exercising the greatest influence among his own countrymen, said he would resign his command to the Volscians, if they bade him do so, since it was at their general bidding that he had assumed it; and that he was ready, and would not refuse even before that, to give a full account of his administration to all the people of Antium who desired it. An assembly was therefore held, at which the popular leaders who had been set to the work rose and tried to embitter the multitude against him.

But when Marcius rose to speak, the more disorderly part of his audience grew quiet, out of reverence for him, and gave him opportunity to speak fearlessly, while the best of the men of Antium, and those that were especially pleased with peace, made it clear that they would listen to him with favour and give a just decision. Tullus, therefore, began to fear the effect of the man’s plea in self-defence; for he was one of the most powerful speakers, and his earlier achievements secured him a gratitude which outweighed his later fault; nay more, the very charge against him was but so much proof of the great gratitude which was his due.