Traduction Masquer
The City of God

Chapter 8.--Of Miracles Which Were Wrought that the World Might Believe in Christ, and Which Have Not Ceased Since the World Believed.

Why, they say, are those miracles, which you affirm were wrought formerly, wrought no longer? I might, indeed, reply that miracles were necessary before the world believed, in order that it might believe. And whoever now-a-days demands to see prodigies that he may believe, is himself a great prodigy, because he does not believe, though the whole world does. But they make these objections for the sole purpose of insinuating that even those former miracles were never wrought. How, then, is it that everywhere Christ is celebrated with such firm belief in His resurrection and ascension? How is it that in enlightened times, in which every impossibility is rejected, the world has, without any miracles, believed things marvellously incredible? Or will they say that these things were credible, and therefore were credited? Why then do they themselves not believe? Our argument, therefore, is a summary one--either incredible things which were not witnessed have caused the world to believe other incredible things which both occurred and were witnessed, or this matter was so credible that it needed no miracles in proof of it, and therefore convicts these unbelievers of unpardonable scepticism. This I might say for the sake of refuting these most frivolous objectors. But we cannot deny that many miracles were wrought to confirm that one grand and health-giving miracle of Christ's ascension to heaven with the flesh in which He rose. For these most trustworthy books of ours contain in one narrative both the miracles that were wrought and the creed which they were wrought to confirm. The miracles were published that they might produce faith, and the faith which they produced brought them into greater prominence. For they are read in congregations that they may be believed, and yet they would not be so read unless they were believed. For even now miracles are wrought in the name of Christ, whether by His sacraments or by the prayers or relics of His saints; but they are not so brilliant and conspicuous as to cause them to be published with such glory as accompanied the former miracles. For the canon of the sacred writings, which behoved to be closed, ¹ causes those to be everywhere recited, and to sink into the memory of all the congregations; but these modern miracles are scarcely known even to the whole population in the midst of which they are wrought, and at the best are confined to one spot. For frequently they are known only to a very few persons, while all the rest are ignorant of them, especially if the state is a large one; and when they are reported to other persons in other localities, there is no sufficient authority to give them prompt and unwavering credence, although they are reported to the faithful by the faithful.

The miracle which was wrought at Milan when I was there, and by which a blind man was restored to sight, could come to the knowledge of many; for not only is the city a large one, but also the emperor was there at the time, and the occurrence was witnessed by an immense concourse of people that had gathered to the bodies of the martyrs Protasius and Gervasius, which had long lain concealed and unknown, but were now made known to the bishop Ambrose in a dream, and discovered by him. By virtue of these remains the darkness of that blind man was scattered, and he saw the light of day. ²

But who but a very small number are aware of the cure which was wrought upon Innocentius, ex-advocate of the deputy prefecture, a cure wrought at Carthage, in my presence, and under my own eyes? For when I and my brother Alypius, ³ who were not yet clergymen, ⁴ though already servants of God, came from abroad, this man received us, and made us live with him, for he and all his household were devotedly pious. He was being treated by medical men for fistulae, of which he had a large number intricately seated in the rectum. He had already undergone an operation, and the surgeons were using every means at their command for his relief. In that operation he had suffered long-continued and acute pain; yet, among the many folds of the gut, one had escaped the operators so entirely, that, though they ought to have laid it open with the knife, they never touched it. And thus, though all those that had been opened were cured, this one remained as it was, and frustrated all their labor. The patient, having his suspicions awakened by the delay thus occasioned, and fearing greatly a second operation, which another medical man--one of his own domestics--had told him he must undergo, though this man had not even been allowed to witness the first operation, and had been banished from the house, and with difficulty allowed to come back to his enraged master's presence,--the patient, I say, broke out to the surgeons, saying, "Are you going to cut me again? Are you, after all, to fulfill the prediction of that man whom you would not allow even to be present?" The surgeons laughed at the unskillful doctor, and soothed their patient's fears with fair words and promises. So several days passed, and yet nothing they tried did him good. Still they persisted in promising that they would cure that fistula by drugs, without the knife. They called in also another old practitioner of great repute in that department, Ammonius (for he was still alive at that time); and he, after examining the part, promised the same result as themselves from their care and skill. On this great authority, the patient became confident, and, as if already well, vented his good spirits in facetious remarks at the expense of his domestic physician, who had predicted a second operation. To make a long story short, after a number of days had thus uselessly elapsed, the surgeons, wearied and confused, had at last to confess that he could only be cured by the knife. Agitated with excessive fear, he was terrified, and grew pale with dread; and when he collected himself and was able to speak, he ordered them to go away and never to return. Worn out with weeping, and driven by necessity, it occurred to him to call in an Alexandrian, who was at that time esteemed a wonderfully skillful operator, that he might perform the operation his rage would not suffer them to do. But when he had come, and examined with a professional eye the traces of their careful work, he acted the part of a good man, and persuaded his patient to allow those same hands the satisfaction of finishing his cure which had begun it with a skill that excited his admiration, adding that there was no doubt his only hope of a cure was by an operation, but that it was thoroughly inconsistent with his nature to win the credit of the cure by doing the little that remained to be done, and rob of their reward men whose consummate skill, care, and diligence he could not but admire when be saw the traces of their work. They were therefore again received to favor; and it was agreed that, in the presence of the Alexandrian, they should operate on the fistula, which, by the consent of all, could now only be cured by the knife. The operation was deferred till the following day. But when they had left, there arose in the house such a wailing, in sympathy with the excessive despondency of the master, that it seemed to us like the mourning at a funeral, and we could scarcely repress it. Holy men were in the habit of visiting him daily; Saturninus of blessed memory, at that time bishop of Uzali, and the presbyter Gelosus, and the deacons of the church of Carthage; and among these was the bishop Aurelius, who alone of them all survives,--a man to be named by us with due reverence,--and with him I have often spoken of this affair, as we conversed together about the wonderful works of God, and I have found that he distinctly remembers what I am now relating. When these persons visited him that evening according to their custom, he besought them, with pitiable tears, that they would do him the honor of being present next day at what he judged his funeral rather than his suffering. For such was the terror his former pains had produced, that he made no doubt he would die in the hands of the surgeons. They comforted him, and exhorted him to put his trust in God, and nerve his will like a man. Then we went to prayer; but while we, in the usual way, were kneeling and bending to the ground, he cast himself down, as if some one were hurling him violently to the earth, and began to pray; but in what a manner, with what earnestness and emotion, with what a flood of tears, with what groans and sobs, that shook his whole body, and almost prevented him speaking, who can describe! Whether the others prayed, and had not their attention wholly diverted by this conduct, I do not know. For myself, I could not pray at all. This only I briefly said in my heart: "O Lord, what prayers of Thy people dost Thou hear if Thou hearest not these?" For it seemed to me that nothing could be added to this prayer, unless he expired in praying. We rose from our knees, and, receiving the blessing of the bishop, departed, the patient beseeching his visitors to be present next morning, they exhorting him to keep up his heart. The dreaded day dawned. The servants of God were present, as they had promised to be; the surgeons arrived; all that the circumstances required was ready; the frightful instruments are produced; all look on in wonder and suspense. While those who have most influence with the patient are cheering his fainting spirit, his limbs are arranged on the couch so as to suit the hand of the operator; the knots of the bandages are untied; the part is bared; the surgeon examines it, and, with knife in hand, eagerly looks for the sinus that is to be cut. He searches for it with his eyes; he feels for it with his finger; he applies every kind of scrutiny: he finds a perfectly firm cicatrix! No words of mine can describe the joy, and praise, and thanksgiving to the merciful and almighty God which was poured from the lips of all, with tears of gladness. Let the scene be imagined rather than described!

In the same city of Carthage lived Innocentia, a very devout woman of the highest rank in the state. She had cancer in one of her breasts, a disease which, as physicians say, is incurable. Ordinarily, therefore, they either amputate, and so separate from the body the member on which the disease has seized, or, that the patient's life may be prolonged a little, though death is inevitable even if somewhat delayed, they abandon all remedies, following, as they say, the advice of Hippocrates. This the lady we speak of had been advised to by a skillful physician, who was intimate with her family; and she betook herself to God alone by prayer. On the approach of Easter, she was instructed in a dream to wait for the first woman that came out from the baptistery ⁵ after being baptized, and to ask her to make the sign of Christ upon her sore. She did so, and was immediately cured. The physician who had advised her to apply no remedy if she wished to live a little longer, when he had examined her after this, and found that she who, on his former examination, was afflicted with that disease was now perfectly cured, eagerly asked her what remedy she had used, anxious, as we may well believe, to discover the drug which should defeat the decision of Hippocrates. But when she told him what had happened, he is said to have replied, with reli gious politeness, though with a contemptuous tone, and an expression which made her fear he would utter some blasphemy against Christ, "I thought you would make some great discovery to me." She, shuddering at his indifference, quickly replied, "What great thing was it for Christ to heal a cancer, who raised one who had been four days dead?" When, therefore, I had heard this, I was extremely indignant that so great a miracle wrought in that well-known city, and on a person who was certainly not obscure, should not be divulged, and I considered that she should be spoken to, if not reprimanded on this score. And when she replied to me that she had not kept silence on the subject, I asked the women with whom she was best acquainted whether they had ever heard of this before. They told me they knew nothing of it. "See," I said, "what your not keeping silence amounts to, since not even those who are so familiar with you know of it." And as I had only briefly heard the story, I made her tell how the whole thing happened, from beginning to end, while the other women listened in great astonishment, and glorified God.

A gouty doctor of the same city, when he had given in his name for baptism, and had been prohibited the day before his baptism from being baptized that year, by black woolly-haired boys who appeared to him in his dreams, and whom he understood to be devils, and when, though they trod on his feet, and inflicted the acutest pain he had ever yet experienced, he refused to obey them, but overcame them, and would not defer being washed in the laver of regeneration, was relieved in the very act of baptism, not only of the extraordinary pain he was tortured with, but also of the disease itself, so that, though he lived a long time afterwards, he never suffered from gout; and yet who knows of this miracle? We, however, do know it, and so, too, do the small number of brethren who were in the neighborhood, and to whose ears it might come.

An old comedian of Curubis ⁶ was cured at baptism not only of paralysis, but also of hernia, and, being delivered from both afflictions, came up out of the font of regeneration as if he had had nothing wrong with his body. Who outside of Curubis knows of this, or who but a very few who might hear it elsewhere? But we, when we heard of it, made the man come to Carthage, by order of the holy bishop Aurelius, although we had already ascertained the fact on the information of persons whose word we could not doubt.

Hesperius, of a tribunitian family, and a neighbor of our own, ⁷ has a farm called Zubedi in the Fussalian district; ⁸ and, finding that his family, his cattle, and his servants were suffering from the malice of evil spirits, he asked our presbyters, during my absence, that one of them would go with him and banish the spirits by his prayers. One went, offered there the sacrifice of the body of Christ, praying with all his might that that vexation might cease. It did cease forthwith, through God's mercy. Now he had received from a friend of his own some holy earth brought from Jerusalem, where Christ, having been buried, rose again the third day. This earth he had hung up in his bedroom to preserve himself from harm. But when his house was purged of that demoniacal invasion, he began to consider what should be done with the earth; for his reverence for it made him unwilling to have it any longer in his bedroom. It so happened that I and Maximinus bishop of Synita, and then my colleague, were in the neighborhood. Hesperius asked us to visit him, and we did so. When he had related all the circumstances, he begged that the earth might be buried somewhere, and that the spot should be made a place of prayer where Christians might assemble for the worship of God. We made no objection: it was done as he desired. There was in that neighborhood a young countryman who was paralytic, who, when he heard of this, begged his parents to take him without delay to that holy place. When he had been brought there, he prayed, and forthwith went away on his own feet perfectly cured.

There is a country-seat called Victoriana, less than thirty miles from Hippo-regius. At it there is a monument to the Milanese martyrs, Protasius and Gervasius. Thither a young man was carried, who, when he was watering his horse one summer day at noon in a pool of a river, had been taken possession of by a devil. As he lay at the monument, near death, or even quite like a dead person, the lady of the manor, with her maids and religious attendants, entered the place for evening prayer and praise, as her custom was, and they began to sing hymns. At this sound the young man, as if electrified, was thoroughly aroused, and with frightful screaming seized the altar, and held it as if he did not dare or were not able to let it go, and as if he were fixed or tied to it; and the devil in him, with loud lamentation, besought that he might be spared, and confessed where and when and how he took possession of the youth. At last, declaring that he would go out of him, he named one by one the parts of his body which he threatened to mutilate as he went out and with these words he departed from the man. But his eye, falling out on his cheek, hung by a slender vein as by a root, and the whole of the pupil which had been black became white. When this was witnessed by those present (others too had now gathered to his cries, and had all joined in prayer for him), although they were delighted that he had recovered his sanity of mind, yet, on the other hand, they were grieved about his eye, and said he should seek medical advice. But his sister's husband, who had brought him there, said, "God, who has banished the devil, is able to restore his eye at the prayers of His saints." Therewith he replaced the eye that was fallen out and hanging, and bound it in its place with his handkerchief as well as he could, and advised him not to loose the bandage for seven days. When he did so, he found it quite healthy. Others also were cured there, but of them it were tedious to speak.

I know that a young woman of Hippo was immediately dispossessed of a devil, on anointing herself with oil, mixed with the tears of the prebsyter who had been praying for her. I know also that a bishop once prayed for a demoniac young man whom he never saw, and that he was cured on the spot.

There was a fellow-townsman of ours at Hippo, Florentius, an old man, religious and poor, who supported himself as a tailor. Having lost his coat, and not having means to buy another, he prayed to the Twenty Martyrs, ⁹ who have a very celebrated memorial shrine in our town, begging in a distinct voice that he might be clothed. Some scoffing young men, who happened to be present, heard him, and followed him with their sarcasm as he went away, as if he had asked the martyrs for fifty pence to buy a coat. But he, walking on in silence, saw on the shore a great fish, gasping as if just cast up, and having secured it with the good-natured assistance of the youths, he sold it for curing to a cook of the name of Catosus, a good Christian man, telling him how he had come by it, and receiving for it three hundred pence, which he laid out in wool, that his wife might exercise her skill upon, and make into a coat for him. But, on cutting up the fish, the cook found a gold ring in its belly; and forthwith, moved with compassion, and influenced, too, by religious fear, gave it up to the man, saying, "See how the Twenty Martyrs have clothed you."

When the bishop Projectus was bringing the relics of the most glorious martyr Stephen to the waters of Tibilis, a great concourse of people came to meet him at the shrine. There a blind woman entreated that she might be led to the bishop who was carrying the relics. He gave her the flowers he was carrying. She took them, applied them to her eyes, and forthwith saw. Those who were present were astounded, while she, with every expression of joy, preceded them, pursuing her way without further need of a guide.

Lucillus bishop of Sinita, in the neighborhood of the colonial town of Hippo, was carrying in procession some relics of the same martyr, which had been deposited in the castle of Sinita. A fistula under which he had long labored, and which his private physician was watching an opportunity to cut, was suddenly cured by the mere carrying of that sacred fardel, ¹⁰ --at least, afterwards there was no trace of it in his body.

Eucharius, a Spanish priest, residing at Calama, was for a long time a sufferer from stone. By the relics of the same martyr, which the bishop Possidius brought him, he was cured. Afterwards the same priest, sinking under another disease, was lying dead, and already they were binding his hands. By the succor of the same martyr he was raised to life, the priest's cloak having been brought from the oratory and laid upon the corpse.

There was there an old nobleman named Martial, who had a great aversion to the Christian religion, but whose daughter was a Christian, while her husband had been baptized that same year. When he was ill, they besought him with tears and prayers to become a Christian, but he positively refused, and dismissed them from his presence in a storm of indignation. It occurred to the son-in-law to go to the oratory of St. Stephen, and there pray for him with all earnestness that God might give him a right mind, so that he should not delay believing in Christ. This he did with great groaning and tears, and the burning fervor of sincere piety; then, as he left the place, he took some of the flowers that were lying there, and, as it was already night, laid them by his father's head, who so slept. And lo! before dawn, he cries out for some one to run for the bishop; but he happened at that time to be with me at Hippo. So when he had heard that he was from home, he asked the presbyters to come. They came. To the joy and amazement of all, he declared that he believed, and he was baptized. As long as he remained in life, these words were ever on his lips: "Christ, receive my spirit," though he was not aware that these were the last words of the most blessed Stephen when he was stoned by the Jews. They were his last words also, for not long after he himself also gave up the ghost.

There, too, by the same martyr, two men, one a citizen, the other a stranger, were cured of gout; but while the citizen was absolutely cured, the stranger was only informed what he should apply when the pain returned; and when he followed this advice, the pain was at once relieved.

Audurus is the name of an estate, where there is a church that contains a memorial shrine of the martyr Stephen. It happened that, as a little boy was playing in the court, the oxen drawing a wagon went out of the track and crushed him with the wheel, so that immediately he seemed at his last gasp. His mother snatched him up, and laid him at the shrine, and not only did he revive, but also appeared uninjured.

A religious female, who lived at Caspalium, a neighboring estate, when she was so ill as to be despaired of, had her dress brought to this shrine, but before it was brought back she was gone. However, her parents wrapped her corpse in the dress, and, her breath returning, she became quite well.

At Hippo a Syrian called Bassus was praying at the relics of the same martyr for his daughter, who was dangerously ill. He too had brought her dress with him to the shrine. But as he prayed, behold, his servants ran from the house to tell him she was dead. His friends, however, intercepted them, and forbade them to tell him, lest he should bewail her in public. And when he had returned to his house, which was already ringing with the lamentations of his family, and had thrown on his daughter's body the dress he was carrying, she was restored to life.

There, too, the son of a man, Irenaeus, one of our tax-gatherers, took ill and died. And while his body was lying lifeless, and the last rites were being prepared, amidst the weeping and mourning of all, one of the friends who were consoling the father suggested that the body should be anointed with the oil of the same martyr. It was done, and he revived.

Likewise Eleusinus, a man of tribunitian rank among us, laid his infant son, who had died, on the shrine of the martyr, which is in the suburb where he lived, and, after prayer, which he poured out there with many tears, he took up his child alive.

What am I to do? I am so pressed by the promise of finishing this work, that I cannot record all the miracles I know; and doubtless several of our adherents, when they read what I have narrated, will regret that I have omitted so many which they, as well as I, certainly know. Even now I beg these persons to excuse me, and to consider how long it would take me to relate all those miracles, which the necessity of finishing the work I have undertaken forces me to omit. For were I to be silent of all others, and to record exclusively the miracles of healing which were wrought in the district of Calama and of Hippo by means of this martyr--I mean the most glorious Stephen--they would fill many volumes; and yet all even of these could not be collected, but only those of which narratives have been written for public recital. For when I saw, in our own times, frequent signs of the presence of divine powers similar to those which had been given of old, I desired that narratives might be written, judging that the multitude should not remain ignorant of these things. It is not yet two years since these relics were first brought to Hippo-regius, and though many of the miracles which have been wrought by it have not, as I have the most certain means of knowing, been recorded, those which have been published amount to almost seventy at the hour at which I write. But at Calama, where these relics have been for a longer time, and where more of the miracles were narrated for public information, there are incomparably more.

At Uzali, too, a colony near Utica, many signal miracles were, to my knowledge, wrought by the same martyr, whose relics had found a place there by direction of the bishop Evodius, long before we had them at Hippo. But there the custom of publishing narratives does not obtain, or, I should say, did not obtain, for possibly it may now have been begun. For, when I was there recently, a woman of rank, Petronia, had been miraculously cured of a serious illness of long standing, in which all medical appliances had failed, and, with the consent of the above-named bishop of the place, I exhorted her to publish an account of it that might be read to the people. She most promptly obeyed, and inserted in her narrative a circumstance which I cannot omit to mention, though I am compelled to hasten on to the subjects which this work requires me to treat. She said that she had been persuaded by a Jew to wear next her skin, under all her clothes, a hair girdle, and on this girdle a ring, which, instead of a gem, had a stone which had been found in the kidneys of an ox. Girt with this charm, she was making her way to the threshold of the holy martyr. But, after leaving Carthage, and when she had been lodging in her own demesne on the river Bagrada, and was now rising to continue her journey, she saw her ring lying before her feet. In great surprise she examined the hair girdle, and when she found it bound, as it had been, quite firmly with knots, she conjectured that the ring had been worn through and dropped off; but when she found that the ring was itself also perfectly whole, she presumed that by this great miracle she had received somehow a pledge of her cure, whereupon she untied the girdle, and cast it into the river, and the ring along with it. This is not credited by those who do not believe either that the Lord Jesus Christ came forth from His mother's womb without destroying her virginity, and entered among His disciples when the doors were shut; but let them make strict inquiry into this miracle, and if they find it true, let them believe those others. The lady is of distinction, nobly born, married to a nobleman. She resides at Carthage. The city is distinguished, the person is distinguished, so that they who make inquiries cannot fail to find satisfaction. Certainly the martyr himself, by whose prayers she was healed, believed on the Son of her who remained a virgin; on Him who came in among the disciples when the doors were shut; in fine,--and to this tends all that we have been retailing,--on Him who ascended into heaven with the flesh in which He had risen; and it is because he laid down his life for this faith that such miracles were done by his means.

Even now, therefore, many miracles are wrought, the same God who wrought those we read of still performing them, by whom He will and as He will; but they are not as well known, nor are they beaten into the memory, like gravel, by frequent reading, so that they cannot fall out of mind. For even where, as is now done among ourselves, care is taken that the pamphlets of those who receive benefit be read publicly, yet those who are present hear the narrative but once, and many are absent; and so it comes to pass that even those who are present forget in a few days what they heard, and scarcely one of them can be found who will tell what he heard to one who he knows was not present.

One miracle was wrought among ourselves, which, though no greater than those I have mentioned, was yet so signal and conspicuous, that I suppose there is no inhabitant of Hippo who did not either see or hear of it, none who could possibly forget it. There were seven brothers and three sisters of a noble family of the Cappadocian Caesarea, who were cursed by their mother, a new-made widow, on account of some wrong they had done her, and which she bitterly resented, and who were visited with so severe a punishment from Heaven, that all of them were seized with a hideous shaking in all their limbs. Unable, while presenting this loathsome appearance, to endure the eyes of their fellow-citizens, they wandered over almost the whole Roman world, each following his own direction. Two of them came to Hippo, a brother and a sister, Paulus and Palladia, already known in many other places by the fame of their wretched lot. Now it was about fifteen days before Easter when they came, and they came daily to church, and specially to the relics of the most glorious Stephen, praying that God might now be appeased, and restore their former health. There, and wherever they went, they attracted the attention of every one. Some who had seen them elsewhere, and knew the cause of their trembling, told others as occasion offered. Easter arrived, and on the Lord's day, in the morning, when there was now a large crowd present, and the young man was holding the bars of the holy place where the relics were, and praying, suddenly he fell down, and lay precisely as if asleep, but not trembling as he was wont to do even in sleep. All present were astonished. Some were alarmed, some were moved with pity; and while some were for lifting him up, others prevented them, and said they should rather wait and see what would result. And behold! he rose up, and trembled no more, for he was healed, and stood quite well, scanning those who were scanning him. Who then refrained himself from praising God? The whole church was filled with the voices of those who were shouting and congratulating him. Then they came running to me, where I was sitting ready to come into the church. One after another they throng in, the last comer telling me as news what the first had told me already; and while I rejoiced and inwardly gave God thanks, the young man himself also enters, with a number of others, falls at my knees, is raised up to receive my kiss. We go in to the congregation: the church was full, and ringing with the shouts of joy, "Thanks to God! Praised be God!" every one joining and shouting on all sides, "I have healed the people," and then with still louder voice shouting again. Silence being at last obtained, the customary lessons of the divine Scriptures were read. And when I came to my sermon, I made a few remarks suitable to the occasion and the happy and joyful feeling, not desiring them to listen to me, but rather to consider the eloquence of God in this divine work. The man dined with us, and gave us a careful ac count of his own, his mother's, and his family's calamity. Accordingly, on the following day, after delivering my sermon, I promised that next day I would read his narrative to the people. ¹¹ And when I did so, the third day after Easter Sunday, I made the brother and sister both stand on the steps of the raised place from which I used to speak; and while they stood there their pamphlet was read. ¹² The whole congregation, men and women alike, saw the one standing without any unnatural movement, the other trembling in all her limbs; so that those who had not before seen the man himself saw in his sister what the divine compassion had removed from him. In him they saw matter of congratulation, in her subject for prayer. Meanwhile, their pamphlet being finished, I instructed them to withdraw from the gaze of the people; and I had begun to discuss the whole matter somewhat more carefully, when lo! as I was proceeding, other voices are heard from the tomb of the martyr, shouting new congratulations. My audience turned round, and began to run to the tomb. The young woman, when she had come down from the steps where she had been standing, went to pray at the holy relics, and no sooner had she touched the bars than she, in the same way as her brother, collapsed, as if falling asleep, and rose up cured. While, then, we were asking what had happened, and what occasioned this noise of joy, they came into the basilica where we were, leading her from the martyr's tomb in perfect health. Then, indeed, such a shout of wonder rose from men and women together, that the exclamations and the tears seemed like never to come to an end. She was led to the place where she had a little before stood trembling. They now rejoiced that she was like her brother, as before they had mourned that she remained unlike him; and as they had not yet uttered their prayers in her behalf, they perceived that their intention of doing so had been speedily heard. They shouted God's praises without words, but with such a noise that our ears could scarcely bear it. What was there in the hearts of these exultant people but the faith of Christ, for which Stephen had shed his blood?

Traduction Masquer
La cité de dieu

CHAPITRE VIII.

DES MIRACLES QUI ONT ÉTÉ FAITS POUR QUE LE MONDE CRUT EN JÉSUS-CHRIST ET QUI N’ONT PAS CESSÉ DEPUIS QU’IL Y CROIT.

Pourquoi, nous dit-on, ces miracles qui, selon vous, se faisaient autrefois, ne se font-ils plus aujourd’hui? Je pourrais répondre que les miracles étaient nécessaires avant que le monde crût, pour le porter à croire, tandis qu’aujourd’hui quiconque demande encore des miracles pour croire est lui-même un grand miracle de ne pas croire ce que toute la terre croit; mais ils ne parlent ainsi que pour faire douter de la réalité des miracles. Or, d’où vient qu’on publie si hautement partout que Jésus-Christ est monté au ciel avec son corps? d’où vient qu’en des siècles éclairés, où l’on rejetait tout ce qui paraissait impossible, le monde a cru sans miracles des choses tout à fait incroyables? Aiment-ils mieux dire qu’elles étaient incroyables, et que c’est pour cela qu’on les a crues? Que ne les croient-ils donc eux-mêmes? Voici donc à quoi se réduit tout notre raisonnement : ou bien des choses incroyables que tout le monde voyait ont persuadé une chose incroyable que tout le monde ne voyait pas; ou bien cette chose était tellement croyable qu’elle n’avait pas besoin de miracles pour être crue, et, dans ce dernier cas, où trouver une opiniâtreté plus extrême que celle de nos adversaires? Voilà ce qu’on peut répondre aux plus obstinés. Que plusieurs miracles aient été opérés pour assurer ce grand et salutaire miracle par lequel Jésus-Christ est ressuscité et monté au ciel avec son corps, c’est ce que l’on ne peut nier. En effet, ils sont consignés dans les livres sacrés qui déposent tout ensemble et de la réalité de ces miracles et de la foi qu’ils devaient fonder. La renommée de ces miracles s’est répandue pour donner la foi, et la foi qu’ils leur ont donnée ajoute à leur renommée un nouvel éclat. On les lit aux peuples afin qu’ils croient, et néanmoins on ne les leur lirait pas, si déjà ils n’avaient été crus. Car il se fait encore des miracles au nom de Jésus-Christ, soit par les sacrements, soit par les prières et les reliques des saints, mais ils ne sont pas aussi célèbres que les premiers. Le canon des saintes Lettres, qui devait être fixé par l’Eglise, fait connaître ces premiers miracles en tous lieux et les confie à la mémoire des peuples. Au contraire, ceux-ci ne sont connus qu’aux lieux où ils se passent, et souvent à peine le sont-ils d’une ville entière, surtout quand elle est grande, ou d’un voisinage restreint. Ajoutez enfin que l’autorité de ceux qui les rapportent, tout fidèles qu’ils sont et s’adressant à des fidèles, n’est pas assez considérable pour ne laisser aucun doute aux bons esprits.

Le miracle qui eut lieu à Milan (j’y étais alors), quand un aveugle recouvra la vue, a pu être connu de plusieurs; en effet, la ville est grande, l’empereur était présent, et ce miracle s’opéra à la vue d’un peuple immense accouru de tous côtés pour voir les corps des saints martyrs Gervais et Protais, qui avaient été découverts en songe à l’évêque Ambroise. Or, par la vertu de ces reliques, l’aveugle sentit se dissiper les ténèbres de ses yeux et recouvra la vue¹ .

Mais qui, à l’exception d’un petit nombre, a entendu parler à Carthage de la guérison miraculeuse d’Innocentius, autrefois avocat de la préfecture, guérison que j’ai vue de mes propres yeux? C’était un homme très-pieux, ainsi que toute sa maison, et il nous avait reçus chez lui, mon frère Alype² et moi, au retour de notre voyage d’outre-mer, quand nous n’étions pas encore clercs, mais engagés cependant au service de Dieu; nous demeurions donc avec lui. Les médecins le traitaient de certaines fistules hémorroïdales qu’il avait en très-grande quantité, et qui le faisaient beaucoup souffrir. Ils avaient déjà appliqué le fer et usé de tous les médicaments que leur conseillait leur art. L’opération avait été fort douloureuse et fort longue; mais les médecins, par mégarde, avaient laissé subsister une fistule qu’ils n’avaient point vue entre toutes les autres. Aussi , tandis qu’ils soignaient et guérissaient toutes les fistules ouvertes, celle-là seule rendait leurs soins inutiles. Le malade, se défiant de ces longueurs, et appréhendant extrêmement une nouvelle incision, comme le lui avait fait craindre un médecin , son domestique, que les autres avaient renvoyé au moment de l’opération, ne voulant pas de lui, même comme simple témoin, et que son maître, après l’avoir chassé dans un accès de colère, n’avait consenti à recevoir qu’avec beaucoup de difficulté, le malade, dis-je, s’écria un jour, hors de lui : Est-ce que vous allez m’inciser encore? et faudra-t-il que je souffre ce que m’a prédit celui que vous avez éloigné? — Alors ils commencèrent à se moquer de l’ignorance de leur confrère et à rassurer le malade par de belles- promesses. Cependant plusieurs jours se passent, et tout ce que l’un tentait était inutile. Les médecins persistaient toujours à dire qu’ils guériraient cette hémorroïde par la force de leurs médicaments, sans employer le fer. Ils appelèrent un vieux praticien, fameux par ces sortes de cures, nommé Ammonius, qui, après avoir examiné le mal, en porta le même jugement. Le malade , se croyant déjà hors d’affaire, raillait le médecin domestique, sur ce qu’il avait prédit qu’il faudrait une nouvelle opération. Que dirai-je de plus? Après bien des jours, inutilement reculés, ils en vinrent à avouer, las et confus, que le fer pouvait seul opérer la guérison. Le malade épouvanté, pâlissant, aussitôt que son extrême frayeur lui eût permis de parler, leur enjoignit de se retirer et de ne plus revenir.

Cependant, après avoir longtemps pleuré, il n’eut d’autre ressource que d’appeler un certain Alexandrin, chirurgien célèbre, pour faire ce qu’il n’avait pas voulu que les autres fissent. Celui-ci vint donc; mais après avoir reconnu par les cicatrices l’habileté de ceux qui l’avaient traité, il lui conseilla, en homme de bien, de les reprendre, et de ne pas les priver du fruit de leurs efforts. Il ajouta qu’Innocentius ne pouvait guérir, en effet, qu’en subissant une nouvelle incision, mais qu’il ne voulait point avoir l’honneur d’une cure si avancée, et dans laquelle il admirait l’adresse de ceux qui l’avaient précédé. Le malade se réconcilia donc avec ses médecins; il fut résolu qu’ils feraient l’opération en présence de l’Alexandrin, et elle fut remise par eux au lendemain. Cependant, les médecins s’étant retirés, le malade tomba dans une si profonde tristesse que toute sa maison en fut remplie de deuil, comme s’il eût déjà été mort. Il était tous les jours visité par un grand nombre de personnes pieuses, et entre autres par Saturnin, d’heureuse mémoire, évêque d’Uzali, et par Gélose, prêtre, ainsi que par quelques diacres de l’Eglise de Carthage. De ce nombre aussi était l’évêque Aurélius, le seul de tous qui ait survécu , personnage éminemment respectable avec lequel nous nous sommes souvent entretenus de ce miracle de Dieu, dont il se souvenait parfaitement. Comme ils venaient, sur le soir, voir le malade, suivant leur ordinaire, il les pria de la manière la plus attendrissante d’assister le lendemain même à ses funérailles plutôt qu’à ses souffrances, car les incisions précédentes lui avaient causé tant de douleur qu’il croyait fermement mourir entre les mains des médecins. Ceux-ci le consolèrent du mieux qu’ils purent, et l’exhortèrent à se confier à Dieu et à se soumettre à sa volonté. Ensuite nous nous mîmes en prière; et nous étant agenouillés et prosternés à terre, selon notre coutume, il s’y jeta lui-même avec tant d’impétuosité qu’il semblait que quelqu’un l’eût fait tomber rudement, et il commença à prier. Mais q ai pourrait exprimer de quelle manière, avec quelle ardeur, quels transports, quels torrents de larmes, quels gémissements et quels sanglots, tellement enfin que tous ses membres tremblaient et qu’il était comme suffoqué! Je ne sais si les autres priaient et. si tout cela ne les détournait point; pour (520) moi, je ne le pouvais faire, et je dis seulement en moi-même ce peu de mots: Seigneur, quelles prières de vos serviteurs exaucerez-vous, si vous n’exaucez pas celles-ci? Il me paraissait qu’on n’y pouvait rien ajouter, sinon d’expirer en priant. Nous nous levons, et, après avoir reçu la bénédiction de l’évêque, nous nous retirons, le malade priant les assistants de se trouver le lendemain matin chez lui, et nous, l’exhortant à avoir bon courage. Le jour venu, ce jour tant appréhendé, les serviteurs de Dieu arrivèrent, comme ils l’avaient promis. Les médecins entrent; on prépare tout ce qui est nécessaire à l’opération, on tire les redoutables instruments; chacun demeure interdit et en suspens. Ceux qui avaient le plus d’autorité encouragent le malade, tandis qu’on le met sur son lit dans la position la plus commode pour l’incision; on délie les bandages, on met à nu la partie malade, le médecin regarde, et cherche de l’oeil et de la main l’hémorroïde qu’il devait ouvrir. Enfin, après avoir exploré de toutes façons la partie malade, il finit par trouver une cicatrice très-ferme. — Il n’y a point de paroles capables d’exprimer la joie, le ravissement, et les actions de grâces de tous ceux qui étaient présents. Ce furent des larmes et des exclamations que l’on peut s’imaginer, mais qu’il est impossible de rendre.

Dans la même ville de Carthage, Innocentia, femme très-pieuse et du rang le plus distingué, avait au sein un cancer, mal incurable, à ce que disent les médecins³. On a coutume de couper et de séparer du corps la partie où est le mal, ou, si l’on veut prolonger un peu la vie du malade, de n’y rien faire; et c’est, dit-on, le sentiment d’Hippocrate⁴. Cette dame l’avait appris d’un savant médecin, son ami, de sorte qu’elle n’avait plus recours qu’à Dieu. La fête de Pâques étant proche, elle fut avertie en songe de prendre garde à la première femme qui se présenterait à elle au sortir du baptistère⁵, et de la prier de faire le signe de la croix sur son mal. Cette femme le fit, et Innocentia fut guérie à l’heure même. Le médecin qui lui avait conseillé de n’employer aucun remède, si elle voulait vivre un peu plus longtemps, la voyant guérie, lui demanda vivement ce qu’elle avait fait pour cela, étant bien aise sans doute d’apprendre un remède qu’Hippocrate avait ignoré. Elle lui dit ce qui en était, non sans craindre, à voir son visage méfiant, qu’il ne lui répondît quelque parole injurieuse au Christ : « Vraiment, s’écria-t-il, je pensais que vous m’alliez dire quelque chose de bien merveilleux! » Et comme elle se révoltait déjà : « Quelle grande merveille, ajouta-t-il, que Jésus-Christ ait guéri un cancer au sein, lui qui a ressuscité un mort de quatre jours⁶? » Quand j’appris ce qui s’était passé, je ne pus supporter la pensée qu’un si grand miracle, arrivé dans une si grande ville, à une personne de si haute condition, pût demeurer caché; je fus même sur le point de réprimander cette dame. Mais quand elle m’eut assuré qu’elle ne l’avait point passé sous silence, je demandai à quelques dames de ses amies intimes, qui étaient alors avec elle, si elles le savaient. Elles me dirent que non. « Voilà donc, m’écriai-je, de quelle façon vous le publiez! vos meilleures amies n’en savent rien ! » Et comme elle m’avait rapporté le fait très-brièvement, je lui en fis recommencer l’histoire tout au long devant ces dames, qui en furent singulièrement étonnées et en rendirent gloire à Dieu.

Un médecin goutteux de la même ville, ayant donné son nom pour être baptisé, vit en songe, la nuit qui précéda son baptême, des petits enfants noirs et frisés qu’il prit pour des démons, et qui lui défendirent de se faire baptiser cette année-là. Sur son refus de leur obéir, ils lui marchèrent sur les pieds, en sorte qu’il y sentit des douleurs plus cruelles que jamais. Cela ne l’empêcha point de se faire baptiser le lendemain, comme il l’avait promis à Dieu, et il sortit du baptistère non-seulement guéri de ses douleurs extraordinaires, mais encore de sa goutte, sans qu’il en ait jamais rien ressenti, quoique ayant encore longtemps vécu. Qui a entendu parler de ce miracle? Cependant nous l’avons connu, nous et un certain nombre de frères à qui le bruit en a pu parvenir.

Un ancien mime de Curube⁷ fut guéri de même d’une paralysie et d’une hernie, et sortit du baptême comme s’il n’avait jamais rien eu. Qui connaît ce miracle, hors ceux de Curube, et peut-être un petit nombre de personnes? Pour nous, quand nous l’apprîmes, nous fîmes venir cet homme à Carthage, par l’ordre du saint évêque Aurélius, bien que nous en eussions été informés par des personnes tellement dignes de foi que nous n’en pouvions douter.

Hespérius, d’une famille tribunitienne, possède dans notre voisinage un domaine sur les terres de Fussales⁸, appelé Zubédi. Ayant reconnu que l’esprit malin tourmentait ses esclaves et son bétail, il pria nos prêtres, en mon absence, de vouloir bien venir chez lui afin d’en chasser les démons. L’un d’eux s’y rendit, et offrit le sacrifice du corps de Jésus-Christ, avec de ferventes prières, pour faire cesser cette possession. Aussitôt elle cessa par la miséricorde de Dieu. Or, Hespérius avait reçu d’un de ses amis un peu de la terre sainte de Jérusalem où Jésus-Christ fut enseveli et ressuscita le troisième jour. Il avait suspendu cette ferre dans sa chambre à coucher, pour se mettre lui-même à l’abri des obsessions du démon. Lorsque sa maison en fut délivrée, il se demanda ce qu’il ferait de cette terre qu’il ne voulait plus, par respect, garder dans sa chambre. Il arriva par hasard que mon collègue Maximin, évêque de Sinite, et moi, nous étions alors dans les environs. ilespérius nous fit prier de l’aller voir, et nous y allâmes. Il nous raconta tout ce qui s’était passé, et nous pria d’enfouir cette terre en un lieu où les chrétiens pussent s’assembler pour faire le service de Dieu. Nous y consentîmes. Il y avait près de là un jeune paysan paralytique, qui, sur cette nouvelle, pria ses parents de le porter sans délai vers ce saint lieu ; et à peine y fut-il arrivé et eut-il prié, qu’il put s’en retourner sur ses pieds, parfaitement guéri.

Dans une métairie nommée Victoriana, à trente milles d’Hippone, il y a un monument en l’honneur des deux martyrs de Milan, Gervais et Protais. On y porta un jeune homme qui, étant allé vers midi, pendant l’été, abreuver son cheval à la rivière, fut possédé par le démon. Comme il était étendu mourant et semblable à un mort, la maîtresse du lieu vint sur le soir, selon sa coutume, près du monument, avec ses servantes et quelques religieuses, pour y chanter des hymnes et y faire sa prière. Alors le démon, frappé et comme réveillé par ces voix, saisit l’autel avec un frémissement terrible, et sans oser ou sans pouvoir le remuer, il s’y tenait attaché et pour ainsi dire lié. Puis, priant d’une voix gémissante, il suppliait qu’on lui pardonnât, et il confessa même comment et en quel endroit il était entré dans le corps de ce jeune homme. A la fin, promettant d’en sortir, il en nomma toutes les parties, avec menace de les couper, quand il sortirait, et, en disant cela, il se retira de ce jeune homme. Mais l’oeil du malheureux tomba sur sa joue, retenu par une petite veine comme par une racine, et la prunelle devint toute blanche. Ceux qui étaient présents et qui s’étaient mis en prière avec les personnes accourues au bruit, touchés de ce spectacle et contents de voir ce jeune homme revenu à son bon sens, s’affligeaient néanmoins de la perte de son oeil et disaient qu’il fallait appeler un médecin. Alors le beau-frère de celui qui l’avait transporté prenant la parole: « Dieu, dit-il, qui a chassé le « démon à la prière de ces saints, peut bien aussi rendre la vue à ce jeune homme ». Là-dessus il remit comme il put l’oeil à sa place et le banda avec son mouchoir; sept jours après, il crut pouvoir l’enlever, et il trouva l’oeil parfaitement guéri. D’autres malades encore trouvèrent en ce lieu leur guérison; mais ce récit nous mènerait trop loin.

Je connais une fille d’Hippone, qui, s’étant frottée d’une huile où le prêtre qui priait pour elle avait mêlé ses larmes, fut aussitôt délivrée du malin esprit. Je sais que la même chose arriva à un jeune homme, la première fois qu’un évêque, qui ne l’avait point vu, pria pour lui.

Il y avait à Hippone un vieillard nommé Florentius, homme pauvre et pieux, qui vivait de son métier de tailleur. Ayant perdu l’habit qui le couvrait et n’ayant pas de quoi en acheter un autre, il courut au tombeau des Vingt. Martyrs⁹, qui est fort célèbre chez nous, et les pria de le vêtir. Quelques jeunes gens qui se trouvaient là par hasard, et qui avaient envie de rire, l’ayant entendu, le suivirent quand il sortit et se mirent à le railler, comme s’il eût demandé cinquante oboles aux martyrs pour avoir un habit. Mais lui, continuant toujours son chemin sans rien dire, vit un grand poisson qui se débattait sur le rivage; il le prit avec le secours de ces jeunes gens, et In vendit trois cents oboles à un cuisinier nommé Catose, chrétien zélé, à qui il raconta tout ce qui s’était passé. Il se disposait à acheter de la laine, afin que sa femme lui en fît tel habit qu’elle pourrait; mais le cuisinier ayant ouvert le poisson, trouva dedans une bague d’or. Touché à la fois de compassion et de pieux effroi, il la porta à cet homme, en lui disant: Voilà comme les vingt Martyrs ont pris soin de vous vêtir.

L’évêque Projectus ayant apporté à Tibilis des reliques du très-glorieux martyr saint Etienne, il se fit autour du reliquaire un grand concours de peuple. Une femme aveugle des environs pria qu’on la menât à l’évêque qui portait ce sacré dépôt, et donna des fleurs pour les faire toucher aux reliques. Quand on les lui eut rendues, elle les porta à ses yeux, et recouvra tout d’un coup la vue. Tous ceux qui étaient présents furent surpris de ce miracle; mais elle, d’un air d’allégresse, se mit à marcher la première devant eux et n’eut plus besoin de guide.

Lucillus, évêque de Sinite, ville voisine d’Hippone, portait en procession les reliques du même martyr, fort révéré en ce lieu. Une fistule, qui le faisait beaucoup souffrir et que son médecin était sur le point d’ouvrir, fut tout d’un coup guérie par l’effet de ce pieux fardeau ; car il n’en souffrit plus désormais.

Eucharius, prêtre d’Espagne, qui habitait à Calame¹⁰, fut guéri d’une pierre, qui le tourmentait depuis longtemps, par les reliques du même martyr, que l’évêque Possidius¹¹ y apporta. Le même prêtre, étant en proie à une autre maladie qui le mit si bas qu’on le croyait mort et que déjà on lui avait lié les mains, revint par le secours du même martyr. On jeta sur les reliques sa robe de prêtre que l’on remit ensuite sur lui, et il fut rappelé à la vie.

Il y avait là un homme fort âgé, nommé Martial, le plus considérable de la ville, qui avait une grande aversion pour la religion chrétienne. Sa fille était chrétienne et son gendre avait été baptisé la même année. Ceux-ci le voyant malade, le conjurèrent en pleurant de se faire chrétien; mais il refusa, et les chassa avec colère d’auprès de lui. Son gendre trouva à propos d’aller au tombeau de saint Etienne, pour demander à Dieu la conversion de son beau-père. Il pria avec beaucoup de ferveur, et, prenant quelques fleurs de l’autel, les mit sur la tête du malade, comme il était déjà nuit., Le vieillard s’endormit; mais il n’était pas jour encore qu’il cria qu’on allât chercher l’évêque qui se trouvait alors avec moi à Hippone. A son défaut, il fit venir des prêtres, à qui il dit qu’il était chrétien, et qui le baptisèrent, au grand étonnement de fout le monde. Tant qu’il vécut, il eut toujours ces mots à la bouche: «Seigneur Jésus, recevez mon esprit » ; sans savoir que ces paroles, les dernières qu’il prononça, avaient été aussi les dernières paroles de saint Etienne, quand il fut lapidé par les Juifs.

Deux goutteux, l’un citoyen et l’autre étranger, furent aussi guéris par le même saint:

le premier fut guéri instantanément ; le second eut une révélation de ce qu’il devait faire, quand la douleur se ferait sentir; il le fit et fut soulagé.

Audurus est une terre où il y a une église, et dans cette église une chapelle dédiée à saint Etienne. Il arriva par hasard que, pendant qu’un petit enfant jouait dans la cour, des boeufs qui traînaient un chariot, sortant de leur chemin, firent passer la roue sur lui et le tuèrent. Sa mère l’emporte et le place près du lieu consacré au saint ; or, non-seulement il recouvra la vie, mais il ne parut pas même qu’il eût été blessé.

Une religieuse qui demeurait à Caspalium, terre située dans les environs , étant fort malade et abandonnée des médecins, on porta sa robe à la même chapelle ; mais la religieuse mourut avant qu’on eût eu le temps de la rapporter. Cependant ses parents en couvrirent -son corps inanimé, et aussitôt elle ressuscita et fut guérie.

A Hippone, un nommé Bassus, de Syrie, priait devant les reliques du saint martyr pour sa fille, dangereusement malade ; il avait apporté avec lui la robe de son enfant. Tout à coup ses gens accoururent pour lui annoncer qu’elle était morte. Mais quelques-uns de ses amis, qu’ils rencontrèrent en chemin, les empêchèrent de lui annoncer cette nouvelle, (523) de peur qu’il ne pleurât devant tout le monde. De retour chez lui, et quand la maison retentissait déjà des plaintes de ses domestiques, il jeta sur sa fille la robe qu’il apportait de l’église, et elle revint incontinent à la vie.

Le fils d’un certain Irénéus, collecteur des impôts, était mort dans la même ville. Pendant que l’on se préparait à faire ses funérailles, un des amis du père lui conseilla de faire frotter le corps de son fils de l’huile du même martyr. On le fit, et l’enfant ressuscita.

L’ancien tribun Eleusinus, qui avait mis son fils, mort de maladie, sur le tombeau du môme martyr, voisin du faubourg où il demeurait, le remporta vivant, après avoir prié et versé des larmes pour lui.

Je pourrais encore rapporter un grand nombre d’autres miracles que je connais; mais comment faire? il faut bien, comme je l’ai promis, arriver à la fin de cet ouvrage. Je ne doute point que plusieurs des nôtres qui me liront ne soient fâchés que j’en aie omis beaucoup qu’ils connaissent aussi bien que moi; mais je les prie de m’excuser, et de considérer combien il serait long de faire ce que je suis obligé de négliger. Si je voulais rapporter seulement toutes les guérisons qui ont été opérées à Calame et à Hippone par le glorieux martyr saint Etienne, elles contiendraient plusieurs volumes ; encore ne seraient-ce que celles dont on a écrit les relations pour les lire au peuple. Aussi bien, c’est par mes ordres que ces relations ont été dressées, quand j’ai vu se faire de notre temps plusieurs miracles semblables à ceux d’autrefois et dont il fallait ne pas laisser perdre la mémoire. Or, il n’y a pas encore deux ans que les reliques de ce martyr sont à Hippone¹² ; et bien qu’on n’ait pas donné de relation de tous les miracles qui s’y sont faits, il s’en trouve déjà près de soixante-dix au moment où j’écris ceci. Mais à Calame, où les reliques de ce saint martyr sont depuis plus longtemps et où l’on a plus de soin d’écrire ces relations, le nombre en monte bien plus haut.

Nous savons encore que plusieurs miracles sont arrivés à Uzales, colonie voisine d’Utique, grâce aux reliques du même martyr, que l’évêque Evodius¹³ y avait apportées, bien avant qu’il y en eût à Hippone; mais on n’a pas coutume en ce pays d’en écrire dès relations, ou du moins cela ne se pratiquait pas autrefois. Peut-être le fait-on maintenant. Comme nous y étions, il n’y a pas longtemps, une dame de haute condition, nommée Pétronia, ayant été guérie miraculeusement d’une langueur qui avait épuisé tous les remèdes des médecins, nous l’exhortâmes, avec l’agrément de l’évêque, à en faire une relation qui pût être lue au peuple. Elle nous l’accorda fort obligeamment et y inséra une circonstance que je ne puis négliger ici, quoique pressé de passer à ce qui me reste à dire. Elle dit qu’un juif lui persuada de porter sur elle à nu une ceinture de cheveux où serait une bague dont le chaton avait été fait d’une pierre trouvée dans les reins d’un boeuf. Cette dame, portant cette ceinture sur elle, venait à l’église du saint martyr. Mais un jour partie de Carthage, comme elle s’était arrêtée dans une de ses terres sur les bords du fleuve Bagrada et qu’elle se levait pour continuer son chemin, elle fut tout étonnée de voir son anneau à ses pieds. Elle tâta sa ceinture pour voir si elle ne s’était pas détachée, et la trouvant bien liée, elle crut que l’anneau s’était rompu. Mais elle l’examina, le trouva parfaitement entier, et prit ce prodige pour une assurance de sa guérison. Elle délia donc sa ceinture et la jeta avec l’anneau dans le fleuve.

Ils ne croiront pas ce miracle ceux qui ne croient pas que le Seigneur Jésus-Christ soit sorti du sein de sa mère sans altérer sa virginité, et qu’il soit entré, toutes portes fermées, dans le lieu où étaient réunis ses disciples. Mais qu’ils s’informent au moins du fait que je viens de citer, et s’ils le trouvent vrai, qu’ils croient aussi le reste. C’est une dame illustre, de grande naissance, et mariée en haut lieu; elle demeure à Carthage. La ville est grande, et la personne connue. Il est donc impossible que ceux qui s’enquerront de ce miracle n’apprennent pas ce qui en est. Tout au moins le martyr même, par les prières duquel elle a été guérie, a cru au fils d’une vierge, à celui qui est entré, les portes fermées, dans le lieu où étaient réunis ses disciples; en un mot, et tout ce que nous disons présentement n’est que pour en venir là, il a cru en celui qui est monté au ciel avec le même corps dans lequel il est ressuscité; et si tant de merveilles s’opèrent par l’intercession du saint martyr, c’est qu’il a donné sa (524) vie pour maintenir sa foi. Il s’accomplit donc encore aujourd’hui beaucoup de miracles; le même Dieu qui a fait les prodiges que nous lisons fait encore ceux-ci par les personnes qu’il lui plaît de choisir, et comme il lui plaît. Mais ces derniers ne sont pas aussi connus, parce qu’une fréquente lecture ne les imprime pas dans la mémoire aussi fortement que les autres. Aux lieux mêmes où l’on prend soin d’en écrire des relations, ceux qui sont présents, lorsqu’on les lit, ne les entendent qu’une fois, et il y a beaucoup d’absents. Les personnes mêmes qui les ont entendu lire ne les retiennent pas, et à peine s’en trouve-t-il une seule de celles-là qui les rapporte aux autres.

Voici un miracle qui est arrivé parmi nous et qui n’est pas plus grand que ceux dont j’ai fait mention ; mais il est si éclatant que je ne crois pas qu’il y ait à Hippone une personne qui ne l’ait vu, ou qui n’en ait ouï parler, et qui jamais puisse l’oublier : dix enfants, dont sept fils et trois filles, natifs de Césarée on Cappadoce, et d’assez bonne condition, ayant été maudits par leur mère pour quelque outrage qu’ils lui firent après la mort de son mari, furent miraculeusement frappés d’un tremblement de membres. Ne pouvant souffrir la confusion à laquelle ils étaient en butte dans leur pays, ils s’en allèrent, chacun de leur côté, errer dans l’empire romain. Il en vint deux à Hippone, un frère et une soeur, Paul et Palladia, déjà fameux en beaucoup d’endroits par leur disgrâce ; ils y arrivèrent quinze jours avant la fête de Pâques, et ils visitaient tous les jours l’Eglise où se trouvaient les reliques du glorieux saint Etienne, priant Dieu de s’apaiser à leur égard et de leur rendre la santé. Partout où ils allaient, ils attiraient les regards, et ceux qui les avaient vus ailleurs disaient aux autres la cause de leur tremblement. Le jour de Pâques venu, et comme déjà un grand concours de peuple remplissait l’église, le jeune homme, tenant les balustres du lieu où étaient les reliques du martyr, tomba tout d’un coup, et demeura par terre comme endormi , sans toutefois trembler, comme il faisait d’ordinaire, même en dormant. Cet accident étonna tout le monde, et plusieurs en furent touchés. Il s’en trouva qui voulurent le relever; mais d’autres les en empêchèrent, et dirent qu’il valait mieux attendre la fin de son sommeil. Tout à coup le jeune homme se releva sur ses pieds sans trembler, car il était guéri, examinant tous ceux qui le regardaient. Qui put s’empêcher alors de rendre grâces à Dieu ? Toute l’église retentit de cris de joie, et l’on courut promptement à moi pour me dire l’événement, à l’endroit où j’étais assis, prêt à m’avancer vers le peuple. Ils venaient l’un sur l’autre, le dernier m’annonçant cette nouvelle, comme si je ne l’avais point apprise du premier. Tandis que je me réjouissais et rendais grâces à Dieu, le jeune homme guéri entra lui-même avec les autres, et se jeta à mes pieds ; je l’embrassai et le relevai. Nous nous avançâmes vers le peuple, l’église étant toute pleine, et l’on n’entendait partout que ces mots : Dieu soit béni ! Dieu soit béni ! Je saluai le peuple, et il recommença encore plus fort les mêmes acclamations. Enfin, comme chacun eut fait silence, on lut quelques leçons de l’Ecriture. Quand le moment où je devais parler fut venu, je fis un petit discours, selon l’exigence du temps et la grandeur de cette joie, aimant mieux qu’ils goûtassent l’éloquence de Dieu dans une oeuvre si merveilleuse, que dans mon propre discours. Le jeune homme dîna avec nous, et nous raconta en détail l’histoire de son malheur et celle de ses frères, de ses soeurs et de sa mère. Le lendemain, après le sermon, je promis au peuple de lui en lire le récit, au jour suivant¹⁴. Le troisième jour donc après le dimanche de Pâques, comme on faisait la lecture promise¹⁵, je fis mettre le frère et la soeur sur les degrés du lieu où je montais pour parler, afin qu’on pût les voir. Tout le peuple les regardait attentivement, l’un dans une attitude tranquille, l’autre tremblant de tous ses membres. Ceux qui ne les avaient pas vus ainsi apprenaient, par le malheur de la soeur, la miséricorde de Dieu pour le frère. Ils voyaient ce dont il fallait se réjouir pour lui et ce qu’il fallait demander pour elle. Quand on eut achevé de lire la relation, je les fis retirer. Je commençais à faire quelques observations sur cette histoire, lorsqu’on entendit de nouvelles acclamations qui venaient du tombeau du saint martyr. Toute l’assemblée se tourna de ce côté et s’y porta en masse. La jeune fille n’avait pas plus tôt descendu les degrés où je l’avais fait mettre, qu’elle avait couru se mettre en prières auprès du tombeau.

A peine en eut-elle touché les balustres qu’elle tomba comme son frère et se releva parfaitement guérie. Or, comme nous demandions ce qui était arrivé, et d’où venaient ces cris de joie, les fidèles rentrèrent avec elle dans la basilique où nous étions, la ramenant guérie du tombeau du martyr. Alors il s’éleva un si grand cri de joie de la bouche des hommes et des femmes, que l’on crut que les larmes et les acclamations¹⁶ ne finiraient point. Palladia fut conduite au même lieu où on l’avait vue un peu auparavant trembler de tous ses membres. Plus on s’était affligé de la voir moins favorisée que son frère, plus on se réjouissait de la voir aussi bien guérie que lui. On glorifiait la bonté de Dieu, qui avait entendu et exaucé les prières qu’on avait à peine eu le temps de faire pour elle. Aussi, il s’élevait de toute part de si grands cris d’allégresse qu’à peine nos oreilles pouvaient-elles les soutenir. Qu’y avait-il dans le coeur de tout ce peuple si joyeux, sinon cette foi du Christ, pour laquelle saint Etienne avait répandu son sang?