But I need not repeat what I have already said of the

Manicheans,--those arrogant and shallow philosophers who made such high

pretension to superior wisdom; men who adored the divinity of mind, and

the inherent evil of matter; men who sought to emancipate the soul,

which in their view needed no regeneration from all the influences of

the body. That this soul, purified by asceticism, might be reunited to

the great spirit of the universe from which it had originally emanated,

was the hopeless aim and dream of these theosophists,--not the control

of passions and appetites, which God commands, but their eradication;

not the worship of a Creator who made the heaven and the earth, but a

vague worship of the creation itself. They little dreamed that it is not

the body (neither good nor evil in itself) which is sinful, but the

perverted mind and soul, the wicked imagination of the heart, out of

which proceeds that which defileth a man, and which can only be

controlled and purified by Divine assistance. Augustine showed that

purity was an inward virtue, not the crucifixion of the body; that its

passions and appetites are made to be subservient to reason and duty;

that the law of temperance is self-restraint; that the soul was not an

emanation or evolution from eternal light, but a distinct creation of

Almighty God, which He has the power to destroy, as well as the body

itself; that nothing in the universe can live without His pleasure; that

His intervention is a logical sequence of His moral government. But his

most withering denunciation of the Manicheans was directed against

their pride of reason, against their darkened understanding, which led

them not only to believe a lie, but to glory in it,--the utter

perverseness of the mind when in rebellion to divine authority, in view

of which it is almost vain to argue, since truth will neither be

admitted nor accepted.

There was another class of Christians who provoked the controversial

genius of Augustine, and these were the Donatists. These men were not

heretics, but bigots. They made the rite of baptism to depend on the

character of the officiating priest; and hence they insisted on

rebaptism, if the priest who had baptized proved unworthy. They seemed

to forget that no clergyman ever baptized from his own authority or

worthiness, but only in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the

Holy Ghost. Nobody knows who baptized Paul, and he felt under certain

circumstances even that he was sent not to baptize, but to preach the

gospel. Lay baptism has always been held valid. Hence, such reformers as

Calvin and Knox did not deem it necessary to rebaptize those who had

been converted from the Roman Catholic faith; and, if I do not mistake,

even Roman Catholics do not insist on rebaptizing Protestants. But the

Donatists so magnified, not the rite, but the form of it, that they lost

the spirit of it, and became seceders, and created a mournful division

in the Church,--a schism which gave rise to bitter animosities. The

churches of Africa were rent by their implacable feuds, and on so small

a matter,--even as the ranks of the reformers under Luther were so soon

divided by the Anabaptists. In proportion to the unimportance of the

shibboleth was tenacity to it,--a mark which has ever characterized

narrow and illiberal minds. It is not because a man accepts a shibboleth

that he is narrow and small, but because he fights for it. As a minute

critic would cast out from the fraternity of scholars him who cannot

tell the difference between _ac_ and _et_, so the Donatist would expel

from the true fold of Christ those who accepted baptism from an unworthy

priest. Augustine at first showed great moderation and patience and

gentleness in dealing with these narrow-minded and fierce sectarians,

who carried their animosity so far as to forbid bread to be baked for

the use of the Catholics in Carthage, when they had the ascendency; but

at last he became indignant, and implored the aid of secular

magistrates.

Augustine's controversy with the Donatists led to two remarkable

tracts,--one on the evil of suppressing heresy by the sword, and the

other on the unity of the Church.

In the first he showed a spirit of toleration beyond his age; and this

is more remarkable because his temper was naturally ardent and fiery.

But he protested in his writings, and before councils, against violence

in forcing religious convictions, and advocated a liberality worthy of

John Locke.

In the second tract he advocated a principle which had a prodigious

influence on the minds of his generation, and greatly contributed to

establish the polity of the Roman Catholic Church. He argued the

necessity of unity in government as well as unity in faith, like Cyprian

before him; and this has endeared him to the Roman Catholic Church, I

apprehend, even more than his glorious defence of the Pauline theology.

There are some who think that all governments arise out of the

circumstances and the necessities of the times, and that there are no

rules laid down in the Bible for any particular form or polity, since a

government which may be adapted to one age or people may not be fitted

for another;--even as a monarchy would not succeed in New England any

more than a democracy in China. But the most powerful sects among

Protestants, as well as among the Catholics themselves, insist on the

divine authority for their several forms of government, and all would

have insisted, at different periods, on producing conformity with their

notions. The high-church Episcopalian and the high-church Presbyterian

equally insist on the divine authority for their respective

institutions. The Catholics simply do the same, when they make Saint

Peter the rock on which the supremacy of their Church is based. In the

time of Augustine there was only one form of the visible Church,--there

were no Protestants; and he naturally wished, like any bishop, to

strengthen and establish its unity,--a government of bishops, of which

the bishop of Rome was the acknowledged head. But he did not

anticipate--and I believe he would not have indorsed--their future

encroachments and their ambitious schemes for enthralling the mind of

the world, to say nothing of personal aggrandizement and the usurpation

of temporal authority. And yet the central power they established on the

banks of the Tiber was, with all its corruptions, fitted to conserve the

interests of Christendom in rude ages of barbarism and ignorance; and

possibly Augustine, with his profound intuitions, and in view of the

approaching desolations of the Christian world, wished to give to the

clergy and to their head all the moral power and prestige possible, to

awe and control the barbaric chieftains, for in his day the Empire was

crumbling to pieces, and the old civilization was being trampled under

foot. If there was a man in the whole Empire capable of taking

comprehensive views of the necessities of society, that man was the

Bishop of Hippo; so that if we do not agree with his views of church

government, let us bear in mind the age in which he lived, and its

peculiar dangers and necessities. And let us also remember that his idea

of the unity of the Church has a spiritual as well as a temporal

meaning, and in that sublime and lofty sense can never be controverted

so long as _One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism_ remain the common creed of

Christians in all parts of the world. It was to preserve this unity that

he entered so zealously into all the great controversies of the age, and

fought heretics as well as schismatics.

The great work which pre-eminently called out his genius, and for which

he would seem to have been raised up, was to combat the Pelagian heresy,

and establish the doctrine of the necessity of Divine Grace,--even as it

was the mission of Athanasius to defend the doctrine of the Trinity, and

that of Luther to establish Justification by Faith. In all ages there

are certain heresies, or errors, which have spread so dangerously, and

been embraced so generally by the leading and fashionable classes, that

they seem to require some extraordinary genius to arise in order to

combat them successfully, and rescue the Church from the snares of a

false philosophy. Thus Bernard was raised up to refute the rationalism

and nominalism of Abélard, whose brilliant and subtile inquiries had a

tendency to extinguish faith in the world, and bring all mysteries to

the test of reason. The enthusiastic and inquiring young men who flocked

to his lectures from all parts of Europe carried back to their homes and

convents and schools insidious errors, all the more dangerous because

they were mixed with truths which were universally recognized. It

required such a man as Bernard to expose these sophistries and destroy

their power, not so much by dialectical weapons as by appealing to those

lofty truths, those profound convictions, those essential and immutable

principles which consciousness reveals and divine authority confirms. It

took a greater than Abélard to show the tendency of his speculations,

from the logical sequence of which even he himself would have fled, and

which he did reject when misfortunes had broken his heart, and disease

had brought him to face the realities of the future life. So God raised

up Pascal to expose the sophistries of the Jesuits and unravel that

subtle casuistry which was undermining the morality of the age, and

destroying the authority of Saint Augustine on some of the most vital

principles which entered into the creed of the Catholic Church. Thus

Jonathan Edwards, the ablest theologian which this country has seen,

controverted the fashionable Arminianism of his day. Thus some great

intellectual giant will certainly and in due time appear to demolish

with scathing irony the theories and speculations of some of the

progressive schools of our day, and present their absurdities and

boastings and pretensions in such a ridiculous light that no man with

any intellectual dignity will dare to belong to their fraternity, unless

he impiously accepts--sometimes with ribald mockeries--the logical

sequence of their doctrines.

Now it was not the Manicheans or Donatists who were the most dangerous

people in the time of Augustine,--nor were their doctrines likely to be

embraced by the Christian schools, especially in the West; but it was

the Pelagians who in high places were assailing the Pauline theology.

And they advocated principles which lay at the root of most of the

subsequent controversies of the Church. They were intellectual men,

generally good men, who could not be put down, and who would thrive

under any opposition. Augustine did not attack the character of these

men, but rendered a great service to the Church by pointing out, clearly

and luminously, the antichristian character of their theories, when

rigorously pushed out, by a remorseless logic, to their

necessary sequence.

Whatever value may be attached to that science which is based on

deductions drawn from the truths of revelation, certain it is that it

was theology which most interested Christians in the time of Augustine,

as in the time of Athanasius; and his controversy with the Pelagians

made then a mighty stir, and is at the root of half the theological

discussions from that age to ours. If we would understand the changes of

human thought in the Middle Ages, if we would seek to know what is most

vital in Church history, that celebrated Pelagian controversy claims our

special attention.

It was at a great crisis in the Church when a British monk of

extraordinary talents, persuasive eloquence, and great attainments,--a

man accustomed to the use of dialectical weapons and experienced by

extensive travels, ambitious, ardent, plausible, adroit,--appeared among

the churches and advanced a new philosophy. His name was Pelagius; and

he was accompanied by a man of still greater logical power than he

himself possessed, though not so eloquent or accomplished or pleasing in

manner, who was called Celestius,--two doctors of whom the schools were

justly proud, and who were admired and honored by enthusiastic young

men, as Abélard was in after-times.

Nothing disagreeable marked these apostles of the new philosophy, nor

could the malignant voice of theological hatred and envy bring upon

their lives either scandal or reproach. They had none of the infirmities

which so often have dimmed the lustre of great benefactors. They were

not dogmatic like Luther, nor severe like Calvin, nor intolerant like

Knox. Pelagius, especially, was a most interesting man, though more of a

philosopher than a Christian. Like Zeno, he exalted the human will; like

Aristotle, he subjected all truth to the test of logical formularies;

like Abélard, he would believe nothing which he could not explain or

comprehend. Self-confident, like Servetus, he disdained the Cross. The

central principle of his teachings was man's ability to practise any

virtue, independently of divine grace. He made perfection a thing easy

to be attained. There was no need, in his eyes, as his adversaries

maintained, of supernatural aid in the work of salvation. Hence a

Saviour was needless. By faith, he is represented to mean mere

intellectual convictions, to be reached through the reason alone. Prayer

was useful simply to stimulate a man's own will. He was further

represented as repudiating miracles as contrary to reason, of abhorring

divine sovereignty as fatal to the exercise of the will, of denying

special providences as opposing the operation of natural laws, as

rejecting native depravity and maintaining that the natural tendency of

society was to rise in both virtue and knowledge, and of course

rejecting the idea of a Devil tempting man to sin. "His doctrines," says

one of his biographers, "were pleasing to pride, by flattering its

pretension; to nature, by exaggerating its power; and to reason, by

extolling its capacity." He asserted that death was not the penalty of

Adam's transgression; he denied the consequences of his sin; and he

denied the spiritual resurrection of man by the death of Christ, thus

rejecting him as a divine Redeemer. Why should there be a divine

redemption if man could save himself? He blotted out Christ from the

book of life by representing him merely as a martyr suffering for the

declaration of truths which were not appreciated,--like Socrates at

Athens, or Savonarola at Florence. In support of all these doctrines,

so different from those of Paul, he appealed, not to the apostle's

authority, but to human reason, and sought the aid of Pagan philosophy,

rather than the Scriptures, to arrive at truth.

Thus was Pelagius represented by his opponents, who may have exaggerated

his heresies, and have pushed his doctrines to a logical sequence which

he would not accept but would even repel, in the same manner as the

Pelagians drew deductions from the teachings of Augustine which were

exceedingly unfair,--making God the author of sin, and election to

salvation to depend on the foreseen conduct of men in regard to an

obedience which they had no power to perform.

But whether Pelagius did or did not hold all the doctrines of which he

was accused, it is certain that the spirit of them was antagonistic to

the teachings of Paul, as understood by Augustine, who felt that the

very foundations of Christianity were assailed,--as Athanasius regarded

the doctrines of Arius. So he came to the rescue, not of the Catholic

Church, for Pelagius belonged to it as well as he, but to the rescue of

Christian theology. The doctrines of Pelagius were becoming fashionable

and prevalent in many parts of the Empire. Even the Pope at one time

favored them. They might spread until they should be embraced by the

whole Catholic world, for Augustine believed in the vitality of error as

well as in the vitality of truth,--of the natural and inevitable

tendency of society towards Paganism, without the especial and

restraining grace of God. He armed himself for the great conflict with

the infidelity of his day, not with David's sling, but Goliath's sword.

He used the same weapons as his antagonist, even the arms of reason and

knowledge, and constructed an argument which was overwhelming, if Paul's

Epistles were to be the accepted premises of his irresistible logic.

Great as was Pelagius, Augustine was a far greater man,--broader,

deeper, more learned, more logical, more eloquent, more intense. He was

raised up to demolish, with the very reason he professed to disdain, the

sophistries and dogmas of one of the most dangerous enemies which the

Church had ever known,--to leave to posterity his logic and his

conclusions when similar enemies of his faith should rise up in future

ages. He furnished a thesaurus not merely to Bernard and Thomas Aquinas,

but even to Calvin and Bossuet and Pascal. And it will be the marvellous

lucidity of the Bishop of Hippo which shall bring back to the true

faith, if it is ever brought back, that part of the Roman Catholic

Church which accepts the verdict of the Council of Trent, when that

famous council indorsed the opinions of Pelagius while upholding the

authority of Augustine as the greatest doctor of the Church.

To a man like Augustine, with his deep experiences,--a man rescued from

a seductive philosophy and a corrupt life, as he thought, by the

special grace of God and in answer to his mother's prayers,--the views

of Pelagius were both false and dangerous. He could find no words

sufficiently intense whereby to express his gratitude for his

deliverance from both sin and error. To him this Deliverer is so

personal, so loving, that he pours out his confession to Him as if He

were both friend and father. And he felt that all that is vital in

theology must radiate from the recognition of His sovereign power in the

renovation and salvation of the world. All his experiences and

observations of life confirmed the authority of Scripture,--that the

world, as a matter of fact, was sunk in a state of sin and misery, and

could be rescued only by that divine power which converted Paul. His

views of predestination, grace, and Providence all radiate from the

central principle of the majesty of God and the littleness of man. All

his ideas of the servitude of the will are confirmed by his personal

experience of the awful fetters which sin imposes, and the impossibility

of breaking away from them without direct aid from the God who ruleth

the world in love. And he had an infinitely greater and deeper

conviction of the reality of this divine love, which had rescued him,

than Pelagius had, who felt that his salvation was the result of his own

merits. The views of Augustine were infinitely more cheerful than those

of his adversary respecting salvation, since they gave more hope to the

miserable population of the Empire who could not claim the virtues of

Pelagius, and were impotent of themselves to break away from the bondage

which degraded them. There is nothing in the writings of Augustine,--not

in this controversy, or any other controversy,--to show that God

delights in the miseries or the penalty which are indissolubly connected

with sin; on the contrary, he blesses and adores the divine hand which

releases men from the constraints which sin imposes. This divine

interposition is wholly based on a divine and infinite love. It is the

helping hand of Omnipotence to the weak will of man,--the weak will even

of Paul, when he exclaimed, "The evil that I would not, that I do." It

is the unloosing, by His loving assistance, of the wings by which the

emancipated soul would rise to the lofty regions of peace and

contemplation.

I know very well that the doctrines which Augustine systematized from

Paul involve questions which we cannot answer; for why should not an

infinite and omnipotent God give to all men the saving grace that he

gave to Augustine? Why should not this loving and compassionate Father

break all the fetters of sin everywhere, and restore the primeval

Paradise in this wicked world where Satan seems to reign? Is He not more

powerful than devils? Alas! the prevalence of evil is more mysterious

than the origin of evil. But this is something,--and it is well for the

critic and opponent of the Augustinian theology to bear this in

mind,--that Augustine was an earnest seeker after truth, even when

enslaved by the fornications of Carthage; and his own free-will in

persistently seeking truth, through all the mazes of Manichean and

Grecian speculation, is as manifest as the divine grace which came to

his assistance. God Almighty does not break fetters until there is some

desire in men to have them broken. If men _will_ hug sins, they must not

complain of their bondage. Augustine recognized free-will, which so many

think he ignored, when his soul aspired to a higher life. When a

drunkard in his agonies cries out to God, then help is near. A drowning

man who calls for a rope when a rope is near stands a good chance of

being rescued.

I need not detail the results of this famous controversy. Augustine,

appealing to the consciousness of mankind as well as to the testimony of

Paul, prevailed over Pelagius, who appealed to the pride of reason. In

those dreadful times there were more men who felt the need of divine

grace than there were philosophers who revelled in the speculations of

the Greeks. The danger from the Pelagians was not from their

organization as a sect, but their opinions as individual men. Probably

there were all shades of opinion among them, from a modest and

thoughtful semi-Pelagianism to the rankest infidelity. There always have

been, and probably ever will be, sceptical and rationalistic people,

even in the bosom of the Church.

Now had it not been for Augustine,--a profound thinker, a man of

boundless influence and authority,--it is not unlikely that Pelagianism

would have taken so deep a root in the mind of Christendom, especially

in the hearts of princes and nobles, that it would have become the creed

of the Church. Even as it was, it was never fully eradicated in the

schools and in the courts and among worldly people of culture

and fashion.

But the fame of Augustine does not rest on his controversies with

heretics and schismatics alone. He wrote treatises on almost all

subjects of vital interest to the Church. His essay on the Trinity was

worthy of Athanasius, and has never been surpassed in lucidity and

power. His soliloquies on a blissful life, and the order of the

universe, and the immortality of the soul are pregnant with the richest

thought, equal to the best treatises of Cicero or Boethius. His

commentary on the Psalms is sparkling with tender effusions, in which

every thought is a sentiment and every sentiment is a blazing flame of

piety and love. Perhaps his greatest work was the amusement of his

leisure hours for thirteen years,--a philosophical treatise called "The

City of God," in which he raises and replies to all the great questions

of his day; a sort of Christian poem upon our origin and end, and a

final answer to Pagan theogonies,--a final sentence on all the gods of

antiquity. In that marvellous book he soars above his ordinary

excellence, and develops the designs of God in the history of States and

empires, furnishing for Bossuet the groundwork of his universal history.

Its great excellence, however, is its triumphant defence of Christianity

over all other religions,--the last of the great apologies which, while

settling the faith of the Christian world, demolished forever the last

stronghold of a defeated Paganism. As "ancient Egypt pronounced

judgments on her departed kings before proceeding to their burial, so

Augustine interrogates the gods of antiquity, shows their impotence to

sustain the people who worshipped them, triumphantly sings their

departed greatness, and seals with his powerful hand the sepulchre into

which they were consigned forever."

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