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OCTAVIUS

XXXVII.

« Que si nous haïssons le reste des sacrifices, et le vin dont on a fait des libations, ce n'est pas une preuve de notre crainte, mais un témoignage de notre liberté. Car quoique rien ne puisse corrompre ce que la nature a fait naître pour notre usage, et que les présents de Dieu soient inviolables, nous nous abstenons néanmoins de ces oblations profanes, de peur qu'on ne croie, ou que nous cédons aux démons à qui elles sont présentées, ou que nous ayons honte de notre religion. Mais quels sont ceux qui s'imaginent que nous n'osons toucher aux fleurs? Ne cueillons-nous pas le lis et la rose, et toutes celles que nous donne le printemps, qui embellissent les parterres, et qu'on estime pour leur beauté ou pour leur odeur? Tantôt nous les semons mollement sous nos pas, et tantôt nous en faisons des guirlandes pour le cou de nos femmes. Mais vous nous pardonnerez bien si nous ne portons point de couronnes, et si nous croyons que c'est par l'odorat qu'on sent les fleurs, et non pas par les cheveux, ni par le derrière de la tête. Nous n'en mettons point aussi sur les morts? mais je m'étonne du reproche que vous me faites. A quoi bon donner un flambeau à celui qui ne voit point, ou une couronne de fleurs à celui qui n'a point l'usage de l'odorat. D'ailleurs s'ils sont heureux, ils n'en ont que faire, et s'ils ne le sont point, cela n'est pas capable de les réjouir. Pour nous, nous faisons l'appareil de nos funérailles avec la même modestie qui nous a accompagnés durant toute notre vie. Nous ne prenons point de guirlandes qui se sèchent, mais nous en emportons de fleurs immortelles que la main libérale de Dieu nous a données. Nous vivons aussi sans appréhension par la grâce que sa bonté nous a faite, et nous jugeons de la félicité qui nous attend par l'assurance qu'il nous en a donné lui-même en conversant parmi noua. Ainsi nous ressusciterons bienheureux, et nous le sommes dès cette vie, dans l'espérance et la contemplation de l'avenir. Donc que Socrate, ce bouffon d'Athènes, crie tant qu'il le voudra qu'il ne sait rien, et fasse le vain de ce que des démons trompeurs l'en ont estimé sage : qu'Arcésilas et Carnéade, Pyrrhon et toute la secte des académiciens délibèrent éternellement; que Simonide diffère toujours à répondre; nous méprisons l'orgueil de ces philosophes, que nous savons être des tyrans, des corrupteurs et des adultères, toujours fort éloquents contre les vices qu'ils conservent. Nous ne travaillons point à paraître sages, mais à l'être ; nous ne parlons point en héros, mais notre vie est exemplaire. En un mot, nous faisons gloire d'avoir trouvé ce qu'ils cherchent toujours, et qu'ils ne trouvent jamais. Pourquoi serions-nous ingrats? Pourquoi envierions-nous leur bonheur? Si nous avons été assez heureux pour que la vérité divine se soit manifestée en nos jours, jouissons de notre bonne fortune; cessons d'en disputer, arrêtons la superstition, chassons l'impiété et que la véritable religion triomphe toute seule.

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The Octavius of Minucius Felix

Chapter XXXVII.

--Argument: Tortures Most Unjustly Inflicted for the Confession of Christ's Name are Spectacles Worthy of God. A Comparison Instituted Between Some of the Bravest of the Heathens and the Holy Martyrs. He Declares that Christians Do Not Present Themselves at Public Shows and Processions, Because They Know Them, with the Greatest Certainty, to Be No Less Impious Than Cruel.

"How beautiful is the spectacle to God when a Christian does battle with pain; when he is drawn up against threats, and punishments, and tortures; when, mocking ¹ the noise of death, he treads under foot the horror of the executioner; when he raises up his liberty against kings and princes, and yields to God alone, whose he is; when, triumphant and victorious, he tramples upon the very man who has pronounced sentence against him! For he has conquered who has obtained that for which he contends. What soldier would not provoke peril with greater boldness under the eyes of his general? For no one receives a reward before his trial, and yet the general does not give what he has not: he cannot preserve life, but he can make the warfare glorious. But God's soldier is neither forsaken in suffering, nor is brought to an end by death. Thus the Christian may seem to be miserable; he cannot be really found to be so. You yourselves extol unfortunate men to the skies; Mucius Scaevola, for instance, who, when he had failed in his attempt against the king, would have perished among the enemies unless he had sacrificed his right hand. And how many of our people have borne that not their right hand only, but their whole body, should be burned--burned up without any cries of pain, especially when they had it in their power to be sent away! Do I compare men with Mucius or Aquilius, or with Regulus? Yet boys and young women among us treat with contempt crosses and tortures, wild beasts, and all the bugbears of punishments, with the inspired ² patience of suffering. And do you not perceive, O wretched men, that there is nobody who either is willing without reason to undergo punishment, or is able without God to bear tortures? Unless, perhaps, the fact has deceived you, that those who know not God abound in riches, flourish in honours, and excel in power. Miserable men! in this respect they are lifted up the higher, that they may fall down lower. For these are fattened as victims for punishment, as sacrifices they are crowned for the slaughter. Thus in this respect some are lifted up to empires and dominations, that the unrestrained exercise of power might make a market of their spirit to the unbridled licence that is characteristic of a ruined soul. ³ For, apart from the knowledge of God, what solid happiness can there be, since death must come? Like a dream, happiness slips away before it is grasped. Are you a king? Yet you fear as much as you are feared; and however you may be surrounded with abundant followers, yet you are alone in the presence of danger. Are you rich? But fortune is ill trusted; and with a large travelling equipage the brief journey of life is not furnished, but burdened. Do you boast of the fasces and the magisterial robes? It is a vain mistake of man, and an empty worship of dignity, to glitter in purple and to be sordid in mind. Are you elevated by nobility of birth? do you praise your parents? Yet we are all born with one lot; it is only by virtue that we are distinguished. We therefore, who are estimated by our character and our modesty, reasonably abstain from evil pleasures, and from your pomps and exhibitions, the origin of which in connection with sacred things we know, and condemn their mischievous enticements. For in the chariot games who does not shudder at the madness of the people brawling among themselves? or at the teaching of murder in the gladiatorial games? In the scenic games also the madness is not less, but the debauchery is more prolonged: for now a mimic either expounds or shows forth adulteries; now nerveless player, while he feigns lust, suggests it; the same actor disgraces your gods by attributing to them adulteries, sighs, hatreds; the same provokes your tears with pretended sufferings, with vain gestures and expressions. Thus you demand murder, in fact, while you weep at it in fiction.