But how many and how great things came upon Origen in the persecution, and what was their final result—as the evil demon marshalled all his forces and fought against the man with his utmost craft and power, assaulting him beyond all others against whom he contended at that time; and what and how many things the man endured for the word of Christ—bonds and bodily tortures and torments under the iron collar and in the dungeon; and how for many days with his feet stretched four spaces of the stocks he bore patiently the threats of fire and whatever other things were inflicted by his enemies; and how his sufferings terminated, as his judge strove eagerly with all his might not to end his life; and what words he left after these things full of comfort to those needing aid, a great many of his epistles show with truth and accuracy. (_d_) Cyprian, _De Lapsis_, 8-10. (MSL, 4:486.) The many cases of apostasy in the Decian persecution shocked the Church inexpressibly. In peace discipline had been relaxed and Christian zeal had grown weak. The same phenomena appeared in the next great persecution, under Diocletian, after a long period of peace. _De Lapsis_ was written in the spring of 251, just after the end of the severity of the Decian persecution and Cyprian’s return to Carthage. Text in part in Kirch, nn. 227 _ff._ Ch. 8. From some, alas, all these things have fallen away, and have passed from memory. They indeed did not even wait, that, having been apprehended, they should go up, or, having been interrogated, they might deny. Many were conquered before the battle, prostrated without an attack. Nor did they even leave it to be said for them that they seemed to sacrifice to idols unwillingly. They ran to the forum of their own accord; freely they hastened to death, as if they had formerly wished it, as if they would embrace an opportunity now given which they had always desired. How many were put off by the magistrates at that time, when evening was coming on! How many even asked that their destruction might not be delayed! What violence can such a one plead, how can he purge his crime, when it was he himself who rather used force that he might perish? When they came voluntarily to the capitol—when they freely approached to the obedience of the terrible wickedness—did not their tread falter, did not their sight darken, their hearts tremble, their arms fall helplessly down, their senses become dull, their tongues cleave to their mouths, their speech fail? Could the servant of God stand there, he who had already renounced the devil and the world, and speak and renounce Christ? Was not that altar, whither he drew near to die, to him a funeral pile? Ought he not to shudder at, and flee from, the altar of the devil, which he had seen to smoke and to be redolent of a foul stench, as it were, a funeral and sepulchre of his life? Why bring with you, O wretched man, a sacrifice?