II.
But it seems that I have made quite a digression which, however, may not be unprofitable. Let us return then to Jesus, or rather, to his Morals.
Celsus proves, by the account of Origen (Book VI, against Celsus), that he had taken from Plato his finest sentiments, such as that which says (Luke, c. xviii, v. 25), that a camel might sooner pass through the eye of a needle than a rich man should enter the Kingdom of God. It was the sect of Pharisees of which he was, and who believed in him, which gave birth to this. What is said of the Immortality of the Soul, of the Resurrection, of Hell, and the greater part of his Morals, I see nothing more admirable than in the works of Epictetus, Epicurus and many others. In fact, the latter was cited by St. Jerome (Book VIII, against Jovian, ch. viii), as a man whose virtue puts to the blush better Christians, observing that all his works were filled with but herbs, fruits and abstinence, and whose delights were so temperate that his finest repasts were but a little cheese, bread and water. With a life so frugal, this Philosopher, pagan as he was, said that it was better to be unlucky and rational, than rich and opulent without having good sense, adding, that it is rare that fortune and wisdom are found in the same individual, and that one could have no knowledge of happiness nor live with pleasure unless felicity was accompanied by prudence, justice and honesty, which are qualifications of a true and lasting delight.
As for Epictetus I do not believe that any man, not excepting Jesus himself, was more austere, more firm, more equitable, or more moral. I say nothing but what is easy to prove, and not to pass my prescribed limit I will not mention all the exemplary acts of his life, but give one single example of constancy which puts to shame the weakness and cowardice of Jesus in the sight of death. Being a slave to a freeman named Epaphroditus, captain of the guards of Nero, it took the fancy of this brute to twist the leg of Epictetus. Epictetus perceiving that it gave him pleasure said to him, smiling, that he was well convinced that the game would not end until he had broken his leg; in fact, this crisis happened. “Well,” said Epictetus with an even smiling face, “did I not say that you would break my leg?” Was there ever courage equal to that? and could it have been said of Jesus Christ had he been the victim? He who wept and trembled with fear at the least alarm, and who evinced at his death a lack of spirit that never was witnessed in the majority of his martyrs.
I doubt not but what it might be said of this action of Epictetus what the ignorant remark of the virtues of the Philosophers, that vanity was their principle, and that they were not what they seemed. But I say also that those who use such language are people who, in the pulpit, say all that comes into their heads—either good or evil—and they want the privilege of telling it all. I know also that when these babblers, sellers of air, wind and smoke, have vented all their strength against the champions of common sense they think they have well earned the revenues of their livings: that they have not merited a call to instruct the people unless they have declared against those who know what common sense and true virtue is.
So it is true that nothing in the world approaches so little to the manners of true scholars as the actions of the ignorant who decry them and who appear to have studied only to procure preferment which gives them bread; and which preferment they worship and magnify when this height is attained, as if they had reached a condition of perfection, which, to those who succeed, is a condition of self-love, ease, pride and pleasure, following nothing less than the maxims of the religion which they profess.
But let us leave these people who know not what virtue is, and examine the divinity of their Master.