"Matronata—who lived a year and 32 days—Pray for thy parents."
"Bolosa—may God refresh thee—In Christ."
"Sweet Faustina—mayest thou live in God."
"Peace to thy soul, Oxycholis."
"Agape, thou shalt live for ever."
"Filumena—thy spirit is in peace."
"Baccis, sweet soul in the peace of the Lord, a virgin—Her father to his sweetest daughter."
"Victorina is in Peace and in Christ."
"Amerinus to his dearest wife Rufina; may God refresh thy spirit."
"His parents made this for their good and sweetest son Felix. . . . May Christ receive thee in peace."
"Porcella sleeps here in peace."
"Severa; mayest thou live in God."
"Farewell, my dear one, in peace with the Holy souls; Farewell in Christ."
Never a word of sorrow on these graves of the dead—never
a word of repining—never a regret that they have been taken
away. Only just a few words telling of their sure hope for
their dear ones, and a prayer to God, Christ, and the Holy
Spirit to keep them in their loving guardianship.
We must dwell a little on the question of the testimony which these epitaphs of the first age of Christianity bear on the practice of the living asking for the help of those who had passed within the veil. There is no doubt but that at a later period and all through the Middle Ages this was the practice, and it has led to results which true theologians generally deplore. The question here is—How far was this the practice of the Church of the first days?
Now there is no doubt whatever but that the mediæval Church from very early times taught that the prayers of great saints possessed a peculiar efficacy, and in the uneducated mind this shaded into something like a belief that these saints possessed some actual power of themselves to interfere in and to influence human affairs. We shall presently quote some of S. Augustine's views here.
