Читать книгу Fabiola; Or, The Church of the Catacombs онлайн

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“Cease; oh, in pity cease, young man, whoever thou art,” exclaimed Tranquillinus, the father of the youths. “Speak not thus severely to my sons; it was, I assure thee, to their mother’s tears and to my entreaties that they had begun to yield, and not to the tortures which they have endured with such fortitude. Why should they leave their wretched parents to misery and sorrow? does thy religion command this, and dost thou call it holy?”

“Wait in patience, my good old man,” said Sebastian, with the kindest look and accent, “and let me speak first with thy sons. They know what I mean, which thou canst not yet; but with God’s grace thou too shalt soon. Your father, indeed, is right in saying, that for his sake and your mother’s you have been deliberating whether you should not prefer them to Him who told you, ‘He that loveth father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of Me.’ You cannot hope to purchase for these your aged parents, eternal life by your own loss of it. Will you make them Christians by abandoning Christianity? will you make them soldiers of the Cross by deserting its standard? will you teach them that its doctrines are more precious than life, by preferring life to them? Do you want to gain for them, not the mortal life of the perishable body, but the eternal life of the soul? then hasten yourselves to its acquisition; throw down at the feet of your Saviour the crowns you will receive, and entreat for your parents’ salvation.”

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