The conversions obtained in this way were rather numerous, even if all were not equally sincere. All converts from the sect were required, like their successors, the Cathari of the Middle Ages, to denounce their brethren by name, under the threat of being refused the pardon which their formal retraction merited. This denunciation was what we would call to-day "a service for the public good." We, however, know of no case in which the Church made use of this information to punish the one who had been denounced.
. . . . . . . .
Donatism (from Donatus, the Bishop of Casæ Nigræ in Numidia) for a time caused more trouble to the Church than Manicheism. It was more of a schism than a heresy. The election to the see of Carthage of the deacon Caecilian, who was accused of having handed over the Scriptures to the Roman officials during the persecution of Diocletian, was the occasion of the schism. Donatus and his followers wished this nomination annulled, while their opponents defended its validity. Accordingly, two councils were held to decide the question, one at Rome (313), the other at Arles (314). Both decided against the Donatists; they at once appealed to the Emperor, who confirmed the decrees of the two councils (316). The schismatics in their anger rose in rebellion, and a number of them known as Circumcelliones went about stirring the people to revolt. But neither Constantine nor his successors were inclined to allow armed rebellion to go unchallenged. The Donatists were punished to the full extent of the law. They had been the first, remarks St. Augustine, to invoke the aid of the secular arm. "They met with the same fate as the accusers of Daniel; the lions turned against them."[1]
[1] Ep. clxxxv, n. 7.
We need not linger over the details of this conflict, in which crimes were committed on both sides. The Donatists, bitterly prosecuted by the State, declared its action cruel and unjust. St. Optatus thus answers them: "Will you tell me that it is not lawful to defend the rights of God by the death penalty? … If killing is an evil, the guilty ones are themselves the cause of it."[1] "It is impossible," you say, "for the State to inflict the death penalty in the name of God,"—But was it not in God's name that Moses,[2] Phinees,[3] and Elias[4] put to death the worshippers of the golden calf, and the apostates of the Old Law?—"These times are altogether different," you reply; "the New Law must not be confounded with the Old. Did not Christ forbid St. Peter to use the sword?"[5] Yes, undoubtedly, but Christ came to suffer, not to defend Himself.[6] The lot of Christians is different from that of Christ.
[1] De Schismate Donatistarum, lib. iii. cap. vi.
[2] Exod. xxxii. 28.
[3] Numb. xxv. 7-9.
[4] 3 Kings xviii. 40.
[5] John xviii. 11.