To the Nations 1.3

You, then, at other times the most diligent and persistent investigators of far lesser crimes, abandon that diligence in the case of such horrible deeds, surpassing all impiety, neither accepting a confession, which judges must always work for, nor sifting the evidence, which those who condemn must always consult; so it is now plain that the whole charge against us is aimed not at some crime but at a name. So much so that, if the truth of the crimes were established, the very names of the crimes would condemn us, if they applied, so that sentence would be pronounced against us thus: “It is decreed that this murderer,” or “this incestuous man,” or whatever we are charged with, “be led away, crucified, given to the beasts.” But your sentences brand nothing except a confessed Christian. No name of a crime appears, unless the name is the crime. For this in truth is the reason for the whole hatred against us. The name is on trial, which a certain hidden power attacks through your ignorance, so that you are unwilling to know for certain what you are certain you certainly do not know; and therefore you do not believe the things that are not proved, and, lest they be easily disproved, you will not inquire, so that the hated name may be punished on a presumption of crimes. So, that the hated name may be given up, we are compelled to deny; then, denying, we are set free, with complete impunity for the past, no longer bloody nor incestuous, because we have lost that name. But while this principle is being shown in its own place, you, who pursue us to destroy the name, declare: what crime is in a name, what offense, what fault? For there is a ruling against you that you cannot charge crimes which neither the procedure sets out, nor the indictment specifies, nor the sentence enumerates. What is laid before the governor, what is inquired of the accused, what is answered or denied, what is read out from the council: that is what I recognize as a charge. So, as to the desert of the name, if there is any guilt in names, any accusation of words, I think there is no complaint to be made against a word or a name, unless it sounds barbarous, or smacks of ill omen, or is indecent, or is otherwise than befits the one who speaks it or pleases the one who hears it. These are the faults of words or names, just as barbarism is a fault of words and speech, and so are solecism and a clumsy figure. But the name “Christian,” as far as its meaning goes, is interpreted from anointing. Even when you mispronounce us as “Chrestians” (for you are not clearly certain even of the name itself), even so it is formed from sweetness or kindness. So in harmless men you put on trial our harmless name as well: not awkward to the tongue, not harsh to the ears, not evil to anyone, not hostile to the fatherland, but Greek like others, and pleasant both in sound and in meaning. And surely names are not to be punished with sword or cross or beasts.