Sometimes but not always incorrectly, certain mortals have developed
the foul habit of praising previous times and attacking what modern
men do. Indeed the ancients should be praised for the way in which
they balanced good fortune with restraint, as well as for the way in
which thoughtfulness controlled their use of energy. However, no
discerning individual could prefer in any way the temporal prosperity
of the ancients to any of the strengths of our own day. Although
pure strength was pre-eminent among the ancients, yet among us,
though the end of time has come upon us, the gifts of nature have not
entirely rotted away. Things done in early times may rightly be
praised because done for the first time, but far more justly are
those things worth celebrating which are usefully done by
uncultivated men in world slipping into old age. We admire foreign
nations famous for military strength; we admire Philip for his
merciless slaughter and victories everywhere, never without
relentless shedding of blood. We commend with resounding rhetoric
the fury of Alexander, who emerged from the Macedonian forge to
destroy the entire East. We measure the magnitude of the troops of
Xerxes at Thermopylae, and of Darius against Alexander, with the
terrible killing of infinite numbers of nations. We wonder at
Chaldean pride, Greek bitterness, the sordidness of the Egyptians,
the instability of the Asiatics, as described by Trogus-Pompeius[49]
and other fine writers. We judge that the early Roman institutions
usefully served the common good and the spread of their power.
And yet, if the essence of these things were laid bare, not only
would their bravery be considered praiseworthy by wise men, but
the relentless madness of fighting without good reason, only for the
sake of ruling, would obviously deserve reproach. Let us look
carefully, indeed let us come to our senses about the remains, I
might have said dregs, of this time which we disdain, and we may find,
as that foolish king said,[50] that our little finger is greater
than the backs of our fathers, whom we praise excessively. If we
look carefully at the wars of the pagans and the kingdoms they
traveled through by great military effort, we shall conclude that
none of their strength, none of their armies, by the grace of God, is
comparable in any way to ours. Although we have heard that God was
worshipped among the Jews, we know that Jesus Christ, as he once was
among the ancients, today exists and prevails by clear proofs among
the moderns. Kings, leaders, rulers and consuls, have collected vast
armies from everywhere, and from among the so-called powerful of
nations everywhere, have amassed hordes of people to fight. They,
however, come together here out of fear of men. What shall I say of
those who, without master, without a leader, compelled only by God,
have traveled not only beyond the borders of their native province,
beyond even their own kingdom, but through the vast number of
intervening nations and languages, from the distant borders of the
Britannic Ocean, to set up their tents in the center of the earth?
We are speaking about the recent and incomparable victory of the
expedition to Jerusalem, whose glory for those who are not totally
foolish is such that our times may rejoice in a fame that no previous
times have ever merited. Our men were not driven to this
accomplishment by desire for empty fame, or for money, or to widen
our borders--motives which drove almost all others who take up or
have taken up arms. About these the poet correctly says:
Quis furor, o cives, quae tanta licentia ferri,