Cicero and Virgil

Many, however, who grant that the Erythraean Sibyl was truly a prophetess, still refuse to believe this prediction. They imagine that someone who shared our faith, and who was not unskilled in the art of poetry, composed these verses. In short, they hold that the verses are a forgery, passed off as prophecies of the Sibyl because they contain useful moral teaching that tends to restrain immorality and lead people to a life of self-control and decency. In this case, however, the truth is plain. The diligence of our own people has made a careful reckoning of the dates, so there is no room to suspect that this poem was composed after the coming and condemnation of Christ, or that the common report is false that the verses were a prediction made by the Sibyl in an early age. For it is agreed that Cicero knew this poem, translated it into Latin, and included it among his own works. This writer was put to death when Antony was in power, and Antony in his turn was conquered by Augustus, whose reign lasted fifty-six years. Tiberius succeeded him, and it was in his time that the Savior’s coming lit up the world, that the mystery of our most holy religion began to prevail, and that a new race of men, as it were, began. It is of this, I suppose, that the prince of Latin poets speaks:

Behold, a new, a heaven-born race appears.

And again, in another passage of the Bucolics:

Muses of Sicily, sound a loftier strain.

What could be clearer than this? For he adds:

The voice of Cumae’s oracle is heard again.

He is plainly referring to the Cumaean Sibyl. Nor was even this enough; the poet goes further, as if driven irresistibly to bear his testimony. What, then, does he say?

Behold! the circling years new blessings bring:

The virgin comes, and with her the long-desired king.

Who, then, is the virgin who was to come? Is it not she who was filled with the Holy Spirit and with child by the Holy Spirit? And why should it be impossible for her who was with child by the Holy Spirit to be a virgin, and to remain a virgin always? This king, too, will return, and by his coming lighten the sorrows of the world. The poet adds:

You, chaste Lucina, greet the newborn child,

Under whose reign the iron race will end,

And a golden race from heaven will descend;

His kingdom will restore the virtue that was banished,

And crime will threaten the guilty world no more.

We see that these words are spoken plainly and at the same time darkly, by way of allegory. Those who search deeply for the meaning of the words are able to see in them the divinity of Christ. But so that none of the powerful in the imperial city could accuse the poet of writing anything contrary to the laws of the country, or of overturning the religious beliefs that had held since ancient times, he deliberately veils the truth. For he knew, I believe, that blessed mystery which gave our Lord the name of Savior. But to escape the severity of cruel men, he turned his hearers’ thoughts to things they were familiar with, saying that altars must be built, temples raised, and sacrifices offered to the newborn child. His closing words, too, are suited to the beliefs of those who were used to such a creed; for he says: