his life if he went, he formed the accursed resolution of calling the Vandals, who at that time were in the west of Spain, over into Africa: they came under Gonderic, and the consequence was the devastation of Africa from the Straits of Gibraltar to Carthage. No German people has carried on war with such faithlessness and doggedness: hitherto Africa had suffered but little. They found support among the Donatists, who had been driven to despair by a frightful persecution, though they were only impracticable seceders who had gone out in Diocletian’s reign on account of the election of a bishop: these were a rude sect, but noble-hearted fanatics, and they were horribly dealt with. There is no doubt that their persecution lasted even later than this, and that the Arabs in their turn found partisans among them: they looked upon the barbarians as their deliverers. Their example may well be a lesson to those who shut their eyes to the misery to which intolerance, or, rather, to call it by its right name, injustice gives birth: the dreadful persecution of the Donatists had now lasted more than a hundred years. Genseric, who had succeeded his brother Gonderic, took the whole country, with the exception of a few places (429). The Moorish tribes he left alone; they were perfectly free: the Vandal rule only extended over the province of Tunis, and the maritime towns. The eyes of Boniface were now opened to the fearful calamity of which he had been the cause, and he tried in vain to check the stream. He met with confidence from Placidia, who in this instance behaved nobly: she sent him troops, which, however, were beaten in two decisive battles. After some years a truce, and then a peace was made, in which Rome gave up the greatest part of Africa; all indeed but Carthage, and some other places. This peace the faithless Genseric did not keep; but, on the contrary, took advantage of it to make himself master of Carthage.—Carthage, next to Rome, was the largest town in the Western Empire, being to that capital, as Hadrianople was to Constantinople. Its extent was considerable, and it was built on the spot where the gardens of Old Carthage had been, outside the walls of the old town. Salvian of Marseilles shows what a place it was; yet he says, that one ought rather to rejoice at its having been taken by the barbarians, than grieve over it, as immorality had reached the highest pitch, and it was inconceivable how the city could have called itself Christian. In former times, Christianity had certainly done a great deal of good to many individuals; but since the masses had adopted it, the church was no longer a select community, and therefore it had ceased to have any influence upon morals. It is remarkable how thoughtlessly at that time whole towns became christian, just as if a new ruler were proclaimed, the people remaining at heart as bad as they ever were. It is the greatest misfortune for the world and for Christianity itself,