from the Roman gods, though perishing on account of their
fidelity to Rome._
But among all the disasters of the second Punic war, there occurred
none more lamentable, or calculated to excite deeper complaint, than
the fate of the Saguntines. This city of Spain, eminently friendly
to Rome, was destroyed by its fidelity to the Roman people. For when
Hannibal had broken treaty with the Romans, he sought occasion for
provoking them to war, and accordingly made a fierce assault upon
Saguntum. When this was reported at Rome, ambassadors were sent to
Hannibal, urging him to raise the siege; and when this remonstrance
was neglected, they proceeded to Carthage, lodged complaint against
the breaking of the treaty, and returned to Rome without accomplishing
their object. Meanwhile the siege went on; and in the eighth or ninth
month, this opulent but ill-fated city, dear as it was to its own
state and to Rome, was taken, and subjected to treatment which one
cannot read, much less narrate, without horror. And yet, because it
bears directly on the matter in hand, I will briefly touch upon it.
First, then, famine wasted the Saguntines, so that even human corpses
were eaten by some: so at least it is recorded. Subsequently, when
thoroughly worn out, that they might at least escape the ignominy
of falling into the hands of Hannibal, they publicly erected a huge
funeral pile, and cast themselves into its flames, while at the same
time they slew their children and themselves with the sword. Could
these gods, these debauchees and gourmands, whose mouths water for
fat sacrifices, and whose lips utter lying divinations,--could they
not do anything in a case like this? Could they not interfere for the
preservation of a city closely allied to the Roman people, or prevent
it perishing for its fidelity to that alliance of which they themselves
had been the mediators? Saguntum, faithfully keeping the treaty it had
entered into before these gods, and to which it had firmly bound itself
by an oath, was besieged, taken, and destroyed by a perjured person.
If afterwards, when Hannibal was close to the walls of Rome, it was
the gods who terrified him with lightning and tempest, and drove him
to a distance, why, I ask, did they not thus interfere before? For I
make bold to say, that this demonstration with the tempest would have
been more honourably made in defence of the allies of Rome--who were in
danger on account of their reluctance to break faith with the Romans,
and had no resources of their own--than in defence of the Romans
themselves, who were fighting in their own cause, and had abundant
resources to oppose Hannibal. If, then, they had been the guardians of
Roman prosperity and glory, they would have preserved that glory from
the stain of this Saguntine disaster; and how silly it is to believe
that Rome was preserved from destruction at the hands of Hannibal by
the guardian care of those gods who were unable to rescue the city of
Saguntum from perishing through its fidelity to the alliance of Rome.
If the population of Saguntum had been Christian, and had suffered as
it did for the Christian faith (though, of course, Christians would
not have used fire and sword against their own persons), they would
have suffered with that hope which springs from faith in Christ--the
hope not of a brief temporal reward, but of unending and eternal bliss.
What, then, will the advocates and apologists of these gods say in
their defence, when charged with the blood of these Saguntines; for
they are professedly worshipped and invoked for this very purpose of
securing prosperity in this fleeting and transitory life? Can anything
be said but what was alleged in the case of Regulus' death? For
though there is a difference between the two cases, the one being an
individual, the other a whole community, yet the cause of destruction
was in both cases the keeping of their plighted troth. For it was this
which made Regulus willing to return to his enemies, and this which
made the Saguntines unwilling to revolt to their enemies. Does, then,
the keeping of faith provoke the gods to anger? Or is it possible
that not only individuals, but even entire communities, perish while
the gods are propitious to them? Let our adversaries choose which
alternative they will. If, on the one hand, those gods are enraged
at the keeping of faith, let them enlist perjured persons as their
worshippers. If, on the other hand, men and states can suffer great and
terrible calamities, and at last perish while favoured by the gods,
then does their worship not produce happiness as its fruit. Let those,
therefore, who suppose that they have fallen into distress because
their religious worship has been abolished, lay aside their anger; for
it were quite possible that did the gods not only remain with them, but
regard them with favour, they might yet be left to mourn an unhappy
lot, or might, even like Regulus and the Saguntines, be horribly
tormented, and at last perish miserably.