The City of God was begun soon after Goths sacked Rome in 410, and Augustine wrote it over more than a decade. Pagans were saying the city had been ruined because Rome had deserted its ancient gods for Christianity. The opening books answer that charge directly. Augustine notes that the barbarians spared those who fled to the churches of the martyrs, a mercy unheard of in ordinary war, and he reminds his readers that disaster has always fallen on the righteous and the wicked together, in every age before Christ as much as after.
Having cleared away the accusation, Augustine goes on the attack. He examines the old Roman religion closely and finds it empty. The gods gave their worshippers no precepts for a good life, sent no warning prophets, and were celebrated with shameful games that no honest person would stage at home. He argues that these powers were not gods at all but demons who looked after their own interest, and that they could not bestow either earthly virtue or the eternal happiness men most need.
From there the book builds its central image: two cities, formed by two loves. The earthly city is fashioned by love of self pressed to the point of despising God, and it glories in itself and in the love of ruling. The heavenly city is fashioned by love of God pressed to the point of despising self, and it gives the glory to God. Pride founds the one and humility the other. In this life the two are tangled together, sharing the same streets and the same goods, separated finally only by what they love.
On that frame Augustine hangs a long reading of history. He traces the two cities from the angels and from Cain and Abel, through Israel and the nations, and through the whole record of Rome. His point about empire is steady throughout: kingdoms are not parceled out by idols but governed by the one true God, who gave dominion to Persia and to Rome alike, to benign emperors and to cruel ones, for reasons often hidden but never unjust. Strip justice away, he says, and a kingdom is only a large robbery.
The closing books look past history to its end. The earthly city, for all its glory, is bound for the second death; the city of God is bound for an eternal sabbath of rest and praise. Augustine ends not with conquest but with peace, the tranquillity of order, and with a vision of the saints who shall rest and see, see and love, love and praise, in an end that has no end.