judge is dail}' looked for, but ye shall judge the judges themselves. Sadness may be there for him who sighs for the world's enjoyments. 'J'he Christian outside the prison has re- nounced the world, but in the prison he has renounced a prison too. It is of no conse- fjuence where you are in the world^ — you who are not of it. And if you have lost some of life's sweets, it is the way of business to suffer present loss, that after gains may be the larger. Thus far I say nothing of the rewards to which God invites the martyrs. Meanwhile let us compare the life of the world and of the prison, and see if the spirit does not gain more in the prison than the flesh loses. Nay, by the care of the Church and the love of the l)rethren,' even the flesh does not lose there what is for its good, while the spirit obtains besides important advantages. You have no occasion to look on strange gods, you do not run against their images; you have no part in heathen holidays, even by mere bodily mingling in them; you are not annoyed by the foul fumes of idolatrous solemnities; you are not pained by the noise of the public shows, nor by the atrocity or madness or immodesty of their celebrants; your eyes do not fall on stews and brothels; you are free from causes of offence, from temptations, from unholy reminiscences; you are free now from perse- cution too. The prison does the same service for the Christian which the desert did for the prophet. Our Lord Himself spent much of His time in seclusion, that He might have greater liberty to pray, that He might be quit of the world. It was in a mountain solitude, too, He showed His glory to the disciples. Let us drop the name of prison; let us call it a place of retirement. Though the body is shut in, though the flesh is confined, all things are open to the spirit. In spirit, then, roam abroad; in spirit walk about, not setting be- fore you shady paths or long colonnades, but the way which leads to God. As often as in spirit your footsteps are there, so often you will not be in bonds. The leg does not feel the chain when the mind is in the heavens. The mind compasses the whole man about, and whither it wills it carries him. But where thy heart shall be, there shall be thy treasure.'' Be there our heart, then, where we would have our treasure.
CHAP. III.
Grant now, O blessed, that even to Chris- tians the prison is unpleasant; yet we were called to the warfare of the living God in our ' (Who ministered to their fellow-Christians in prison, for the testimony of Jesusi. Wliat follows is a sad lecture of social life •mong hiathcns.]
very response to the sacramental words. Well, no soldier comes out to the campaign laden with luxuries, nor does he go to action from his comfortable chamber, but from the light and narrow tent, where every kind of hardness, roughness and unpleasantness must be put up with. Even in peace soldiers inure themselves to war by toils and inconveniences — marching in arms, running over the plain, working a:t the ditch, making the festudo, en- gaging in many arduous labours. The sweat of the brow is on everything, that bodies and minds may not shrink at having to pass from shade to sunshine, from sunshine to icy cold, from the robe of peace to the coat of mail, from silence to clamour, from quiet to tumult. In like manner, O blessed ones, count what- ever is hard in this lot of yours as a discipline of your powers of mind and body. You are about to pass through a noble struggle, in which the living God acts the part of superin- tendent, in which the Holy Ghost is your trainer, in which the prize is an eternal crown of angelic essence, citizenship in the heavens, glory everlasting. Therefore your Master, Jesus Christ, who has anointed you with His Spirit, and led you forth to the arena, has seen it good, before the day of conflict, to take you from a condition more pleasant in itself, and has imposed on you a harder treat- ment, that your strength might be the greater. For the athletes, too, are set apart to a more stringent discipline, that they may have their physical powers built up. They are kept from luxury, from daintier meats, from more pleasant drinks; they are pressed, racked, worn out; the harder their labours in the pre- paratory training, the stronger is the hope of victory. " And they," says the apostle, " that they may obtain a corruptible crown." ^ We, with the crown eternal in our eye, look upon the prison as our training-ground, that at the goal of final judgment we may be brought forth well disciplined by many a trial; since virtue is built up by hardships, as by voluptuous indulgence it is overthrown.
CHAP. IV.
From the saying of our Lord we know that the flesh is weak, the spirit willing.* Let us not, withal, take delusive comfort from tiie Lord's acknowledgment of the weakness of the flesh. For precisely on this account He first declared the spirit willing, that He might show which of the two ought to be subject to the other — that the flesh might yield obedience to the spirit — the weaker to the stronger; the 4 Matt. xxvi. Ai.
w-:iAP. VI.]
AD MARTYRAS.
former thus from the latter getting strength. ].et the spirit hold converse with the flesh about the common salvation, thinking no longer of the troubles of the prison, but of ihc wrestle and conflict for whicli they are the preparation. The flesh, perhaps, will dread tlie merciless sword, and the lofty cross, and t!ie rage of the wild beasts, and that punish- ment of the flames, of all most terrible, and all the skill of the executioner in torture. But, on the other side, let the spirit set clearly before both itself and the flesh, how these things, though exceeding painful, have yet been calmly endured by many, — and, have even been eagerly desired for the sake of fame and glory; and this not only in the case of men, but of women too, that you, O holy women, may be worthy of your sex. It would take me too long to enumerate one by one the men who at their own self-impulse have put an end to themselves. As to women, there is a famous case at hand: the violated Lucretia, in the presence of her kinsfolk, plunged the knife into herself, that she might have glory for her chastity. Mucins burned his right hand on an altar, that this deed of his might dwell in fame. The philosophers have been out-stripped, — for instance Heraclitus, who, smeared with cowdung, burned himself; and Empedocles, who leapt down into the fires of ^tna; and Peregrinus," who not long ago threw himself on the funeral pile. For women even have despised the flames. Dido did so, lest, after the death of a husband very dear to her, she should be compelled to marry again; and so did the wife of Hasdru- bal, who, Carthage being on fire, that she might not behold her husband suppliant as Scipio's feet, rushed with her children into the conflagration, in which her native city was destroyed. Regulus, a Roman general, who had been taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, declined to be exchanged for a large number of Carthaginian captives, choosing rather to be given back to the enemy. He was crammed into a sort of chest; and, everywhere pierced by nails driven from the outside, he endured so many crucifixions. Woman has voluntarily sought the wild beasts, and even asps, those serpents worse than bear or bull, which Cleopatra ap- plied to herself, that she might not fall into the hands of her enemy. But the fear of death is not so great as the fear of torture. And so the Athenian courtezan succumbed to the executioner, when, subjected to torture by the tyrant for having taken part in a con- spiracy, still making no betrayal of her con- federates, she at last bit off her tongue and spat it in the tyrant's face, that he might be » [He is satd to have perished circa a.d. 170.]
convinced of the uselessness of his torments, however long they should be continue<l. Everybody knows what to this day is the great. Lacedaemonian solemnity — the (ha/jarTriycjoir, or scourging; in which sacred rite the Spartan, youths are beaten with scourges before the altar, their parents and kinsmen standing by and exhorting them to stand it bravely out. For it will be always counted more honourable and glorious that the soul rather than the body has given itself to stripes. But if so high a value is put on the earthly glory, won by mental and bodily vigour, that men, for the praise of their fellows, I may say, despise the sword, the fire, the cross, the wild beasts, the torture; these surely are but trifling suffer- ings to obtain a celestial glory and a divine reward. If the bit of glass is so precious, what must the true pearl be worth? Are we not called on, then, most joyfully to lay out as much for the true as others do for the false?
CHAP. v.
CHAP. v.
I leave out of account now the motive of glory. All these same cruel and painful con- flicts, a mere vanity you find among men — in fact, a sort of mental disease — as trampled under foot. How many ease-lovers does the conceit of arms give to the sword? They actually go down to meet the very wild beasts in vain ambition; and they fancy themselves more winsome from the bites and scars of the contest. Some have sold themselves to fires, to run a certain distance in a burning tunic. Others, with most enduring shoulders, have walked about under the hunters' whips. The Lord has given these things a place in the world, O blessed, not without some reason: for what reason, but now to animate us, and on that day to confound us if we have feared to suffer for the truth, that we might be saved, what others out of vanity have eagerly sought for to their ruin?
CHAP. VI.
CHAP. VI.
Passing, too, from examples of enduring constancy having such an origin as this, let us turn to a simple contemplation of man's estate in its ordinary conditions, that mayhap from things which happen to us whether we will or no, and which we must set our minds to bear, we may get instruction. How often, then, have fires consumed the living! How often have wild beasts torn men in pieces, it may be in their own forests, or it may be in the heart of cities, when they have chanced to escape from their dens! How many have fallen by the robber's sword! How many have suffered at the hands of enemies the death of the cross, after having been tortured first, yes, 6gb AD MARTYRAS.
[chap. VI.
and treated with every sort of contumely! One may even suffer in the cause of a man what he hesitates to suffer in the cause of God. In reference to this indeed, let the present time ' bear testimony, when so many ' [After the defeat and suicide of Albinus, at Lyons, many persons, some of Senatorial rank, were cruelly put to death.]
persons of rank have met with death in a mere human being's cause, and that though from their birth and dignities and bodily con- dition and age such a fate seemed most un- 'ikely; either suffering at his hands if they have ;aken part against him, or from his enemies if they have been his partisans.
V.
APPENDIX.
THE MARTYRDOM OF PERPETUA AND FELICITAS.
(TRANSLATED BY THE REV. K. E. WALLIS, PH.D.)
Nobody will blame me for placing here the touching history of these Martyrs. It illus- trates the period of history we are now considering, and sheds light on the preceding treatise. I can hardly read it without tears, and it ought to make us love "the noble army of mar- tyrs." I think TertuUian was the editor of the story, not its author.' Felicitas is mentioned by name in the De Anima: and the closing paragraph of this memoir is quite in his style. To these words I need only add that Dr. Routh, who unfortunately decided not to re-edit it, ascribes the first edition to Lacas Holstenius. He was Librarian of the Vatican and died in 1661. The rest may be learned from this Introductory Notice of the Translator: Perpetua and Felicitas suffered martyrdom in the reign of Septimius Severus, about the year 202 a.d. TertuUian mentions Perpetua,^ and a further clue to the date is given in the allusion to the birth-day of " Geta the Caesar," the son of Septimius Severus. There is therefore, good reason for rejecting the opinion held by some, that they suffered under Valerian and Gallienus. Some think that they suffered at Tuburbium in Mauritania; but the more general opinion is, that Carthage was the scene of their martyrdom.
The *'Acta," detailing the sufferings of Perpetua and Felicitas, has been held by all critics to be a genuine document of antiquity. But much difference exists as to who was the com- piler. In the writing itself, Perpetua and Saturus are mentioned as having written certain portions of it; and there is no reason to doubt the statement. Who the writer of the re- maining portion was, is not known. Some have assigned the work to TertuUian; some have maintained that, whoever the writer was, he was a Montanist, and some have tried to show that both martyrs and narrator were Montanists.^ The narrator must have been a contemporary; according to many critics, he was an eye-witness of the sufferings of the martyrs. And he must have written the narrative shortly after the events.
Dean Milman says, " There appear strong indications that the acts of these African martyrs are translated from the Greek; at least it is difficult otherwise to account for the frequent untranslated Greek words and idioms in the text.* The Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas was edited by Petrus Possinus, Rome, 1663; by Henr. Valesius, Paris, 1664; and the Bollandists. The best and latest edition is by Ruissart, whose text is adopted in Gallandi's and Migne's collections of the Fathers.
' Cap. Iv. He calls her fortissima martyr, and she is one of only two or three contemporary sufferers whom he mentions by name. = [In the De A nima, cap. Iv. as see above.]
1 [Yet see the sermons of St. Augustine (if indeed his) on the Passion of these Saint.<;. Sermon 281 and 282, opp. Tom. v. pp. 1284-5.] ^Hist. 0/ Christianity, vol. i. ch. viii.
THE PASSION OF THE HOLY MARTYRS PERPETUA AND FELICITAS.
PREFACE.* If ancient illustrations of faith which both testify to God's grace and tend to man's edi- fication are collected in writing, so that by the perusal of them, as if by the reproduction of the facts, as well God may be honoured, as man may be strengthened; why should not new instances be also collected, that shall be equally suitable for both purposes, — if only on the ground that these modern examples will one day become ancient and available for posterity, although in their present time they are esteemed of less authority, by reason of the presumed veneration for antiquity? But let men look to it, if they judge the power of the Holy Spirit to be one, according to the times and seasons; since some things of later date must be esteemed of more account as being nearer to the very last times, in ac- cordance with the exuberance of grace mani- fested to the final periods determined for the world. For " in the last days, saith the Lord, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh; and their sons and their daughters shall prophesy. And upon my servants and my handmaidens will I pour out of my Spirit; and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams."' And thus we — who both acknowledge and reverence, even as we do the prophecies, modern visions as equally prom- ised to us, and consider the other powers of the Holy Spirit as an agency of the Church for which also He was sent, administering all gifts in all, even as the Lord distributed to every one 3 as well needfully collect them in writing, as commemorate them in reading to God's glory; that so no weakness or de- spondency of faith may suppose that the divine grace abode only among the ancients, whether in respect of the condescension that raised I [Both Perpetua and Felicitas were evidently Montanistic in character and impressions, but, the fact that they have never been reputed other than CathoHc, goes far to explain Tertullian's posi- tion for years after he had withdrawn from communion with the vacillating VictorJ = Joel ii. 28, 29. [The quotation here is a note of Montanistic prepossessions in the writer.]
3 [Routh notes this as undoubted evidence of a Montanistic au- thor. Reliquia^ Vol. I. p. 455.]
up martyrs, or that gave revelations; since God always carries into effect what He has promised, for a testimony to unbelievers, to believers for a benefit. And we therefore, what we have heard and handled, declare ahso to you, brethren and little children, that as well you who were concerned in these matters may be reminded of them again to the glory of the Lord, as that you who know them by report may have communion with the blessed martyrs, and through them with the Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and honour, for ever and ever.* Amen.
CHAP. I. — ARGUMENT. — WHEN THE SAINTS WERE APPREHENDED, ST. PERPETUA SUCCESSFULLY RESISTED HER FATHER'S PLEADING, WAS BAP- TIZED WITH THE OTHERS, WAS THRUST INTO A FILTHY DUNGEON. ANXIOUS ABOUT HER INFANT, BY A VISION GRANTED TO HER, SHE UNDERSTOOD THAT HER MARTYRDOM WOULD TAKE PLACE VERY SHORTLY.
1. The young catechumens, Revocatus and his fellow-servant Felicitas, Saturninus and Secundulus, were apprehended. And among them also was Vivia Perpetua, respectably born, liberally educated, a married matron, having a father and mother and two brothers, one of whom, like herself, was a catechumen, and a son an infant at the breast. She herself was about twenty-two years of age. From this point onward she shall herself narrate the whole course of her martyrdom, as she left it described by her own hand and with her own mind.
2. "While," says she, "we were still with the persecutors, and my father, for the sake of his affection for me, was persisting in seek- ing to turn me away, and to cast me down from the faith, — ' Father,' said I, ' do you see, let us say, this vessel lying here to be a little pitcher, or something else? ' And he said, ' 1 see it to be so.' And I replied to him, 'Can it be called by any other name than what it •4 [St..Augustine takes pains to remind us that these Acta. «r« not canonical. De Anitiia^ cap. 2, opp. Tom. i. p. 481.]
yoo THE PASSION OF PERPETUA AND FELICITAS.
[chap. II.
is? ' And he said, ' No. ' ' Neither can I call myself anything else than what I am, a Christian.' Then my father, provoked at this saying, threw himself upon me, as if he would tear my eyes out. But he only dis- tressed me, and went away overcome by the devil's arguments. Then, in a few days after I had been without my father, I gave thanks to the Lord; and his absence became a source of consolation ' to me. In that same in- terval of a few days we were baptized, and to me the Spirit prescribed that in the water of hoptism nothing else was to be sought for than bodily endurance. ^ After a few days we are taken into the dungeon, and I was very much afraid, because I had never felt such darkness.
0 terrible day! O the fierce heat of the shock of the soldiery, because of the crowds! I was very unusually distressed by my anxiety for my infant. There were present there Tertius and Pomponius, the blessed deacons who ministered to us, and had arranged by means of a gratuity that we might be refreshed by being sent out for a few hours into a pleasanter part of the prison. Then going out of the dungeon, all attended to their own wants. 3 I suckled my child, which was now enfeebled with hunger. In my anxiety for it, 1 addressed my mother and comforted my brother, and commended to their care my son. I was languishing because I had seen them languishing on my account. Such solicitude I suffered for many days, and I obtained leave for my infant to remain in the dungeon with me; and forthwith I grew strong and was re- lieved from distress and anxiety about my infant; and the dungeon became to me as it were a palace, so that I preferred being there to being elsewhere.
3. "Then my brother said to me, 'My tlear sister, you are already in a position of great dignity, and are such that you may ask for a vision, and that it may be made known to you whether this is to result in a passion or an escape.' * And I, who knew that I was privileged to converse with the Lord, whose kindnesses I had found to be so great, boldly promised him, and said, 'To-morrow I will tell you.' And I asked, and this was what was shown me. I saw a golden ladder of marvellous height, reaching up even to heaven, and very narrow, so that persons could only ascend it one by one; and on the sides of the ladder was fixed every kind of iron weapon. There were there swords, lances, hooks, daggers; so that if any one went up carelessly, or not looking upwards, he would be torn to ' " Refrigera\;t," Graece avittavatVy scil. ^i. e. the j^race of martyrdom. 3 Sibi vacabant. 4t'>.mmeatus.
' requiem dedit.''
pieces, and his flesh would cleave to the iron weapons. And under the ladder itself was crouching a dragon of wonderful size, who lay in wait for those who ascended, and frightened them from the ascent. And Saturus went up first, who had subsequently delivered himself up freely on our account, not having been present at the time that we were taken prison- ers. And he attained the top of the ladder, and turned towards me, and said to me, ' Perpetua, I am waiting fors you; but be careful that the dragon do not bite you. ' And I said, ' In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, he shall not hurt me.' And from under the ladder itself, as if in fear of me, he slowly lifted up his head; and as I trod upon the first step, I trod upon his head. And I went up, and I saw an immense extent of garden, and in the midst of the garden a white- haired man sitting in the dress of a shepherd,* of a large stature, milking sheep; and stand- ing around were many thousand white-robed ones. And he raised his head, and looked upon me, and said to me, ' Thou art welcome, daughter.' And he called me, and from the cheese as he was milking he gave me as it were a little cake, and I received it with folded hands; and I ate it, and all who stood around said Amen. And at the sound of their voices I was awakened, still tasting a sweetness which I cannot describe. And I immediately re- lated this to my brother, and we understood that it was to be a passion, and we ceased henceforth to have any hope in this world.
CHAP. II. — ARGUMENT. PERPETUA, WHEN BE- SIEGED BY HER FATHER, COMFORTS HIM. WHEN LED WITH OTHERS TO THE TRIBUNAL, SHE AVOWS HERSELF A CHRISTIAN, AND IS CONDEMNED WITH THE REST TO THE WILD BEASTS. SHE PRAYS FOR HER BROTHER DINO- CRATES, WHO WAS DEAD.
I. "After a few days there prevailed a report that we should be heard. And then my father came to me from the city, worn out with anxiety. He came up to me, that he might cast me down, saying, ' Have pity my daughter, on my grey hairs. Have pity on your father, if I am worthy to be called a father by you. If with these hands I have brought you up to this flower of your age, if I have preferred you to all your brothers, do not deliver me up to the scorn of men. Have regard to your brothers, have regard to your mother and your aunt, have regard to your son, who will not be able to live after you.
5 " Sustineo," Gra;ce vnoixivui, scrV. " exspecto." * This was an ordinary mode of picturing our Lord in the ora- tories and on the sacred vessels of those days. [This passage will i*call the allegory of Hermas, with which the martyr was doubtr less familiar.]
CHAP.
II.]
THE PASSION OF PERPETUA AND FELICITAS.
Lay aside your courage, and do not bring us all to destruction; for none of us will speak in freedom if you should suffer anything.' These things said my father in his affection, kissing my hands, and throwing himself at my feet; and with tears he called me not Daughter, but Lady. And I grieved over the grey hairs of my father, that he alone of all my family would not rejoice over my pas- sion. And I comforted him, saying, ' On that scaffold ' whatever God wills shall happen. For know that we are not placed in our own power, but in that of God.' And he departed from me in sorrrow.
2, " Another day, while we were at dinner, we were suddenly taken away to be heard, and we arrived at the town-hall. At once the rumour spread through the neighbourhood of the public place, and an immense number of people were gathered together. We mount the platform. The rest vvere interrogated, and confessed. Then they came to me, and my father immediately appeared with my boy, and withdrew me from the step, and said in a supplicating tone, ' Have pity on your babe.' And Hilarianus the procurator, who had just received the power of life and death in the place of the proconsul Minucius Timinianus, who was deceased, said, ' Spare the grey hairs of your father, spare the infancy of your boy, offer sacrifice for the well-being of the em- perors.' And I replied, 'I will not do so.' Hilarianus said, ' Are you a Christian? ' And I replied, 'I am a Christian.* And as my father stood there to cast me down from the faith, he was ordered by Hilarianus to be thrown down, and was beaten with rods. And my father's misfortune grieved me as if I my- self had been beaten, I so grieved for his wretched old age.^" The procurator then de livers judgment on all of us, and condemns us to the wild beasts, and we went down cheer- fully to the dungeon. Then, because my child had been used to receive suck from me, and to stay with me in the prison, I send Pomponius the deacon to my father to ask for the infant, but my father would not give it him. And even as God willed it, the child no long desired the breast, nor did my breast cause me uneasiness, lest I should be tor- mented by care for my babe and by the pain of my breasts at once.
3. " After a few days, whilst we were all praying, on a sudden, in the middle of our prayer, there came to me a word, and I named Dinocrates; and I was amazed that that name had never come into my mind until then, and I was grieved as I remembered his misfortune.
'"Catasta," a raised platform on which the martyrs were VUced either for trial or torture.