Lecture Xiii.

OF THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH AND LIFE IN ITS APPLICATION TO POLITICS, OR OF THE CHRISTIAN CONSTITUTION OF THE STATE AND THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF JURISPRUDENCE.

The Asiatic custom of deifying their earthly rulers by addressing them as King of Kings, Lord or Spanner [Umspanner] of Creation, the Effulgence of the Deity, and the like, have ever been and very naturally most repugnant to the moral sense of Christian Europe. The Christian notion and axiom, that all power is of God, is founded on a very definite idea and well-considered principle. And this principle is nothing less than this, that the supreme head of the state has to dispense the divine justice. And while this constitutes the peculiar dignity of his office, he is, in the exercise of this his highest function and authority, responsible to God alone. If, however, we should any where meet, either in the present times or the history of the past, with a state in which, by the principle of its constitutions, the nominal possessor of supreme authority and the executive is responsible to another body, then is the latter in fact the sovereign power, and not the former, which really is subordinate to the other. The Spartan constitution will serve to illustrate my meaning. Here, to judge by that strict definition of the sovereign authority and its peculiar character and distinctive criteria, it evidently lay in the Ephori rather than in the possessors of supreme executive power, who were called kings, and whose office was hereditary. The very fact that two kings reigned conjointly is of itself subversive of the very notion of sovereign power. But still more fatally was this undermined by their responsibility in certain cases to the censorship of the other Spartan magistracy. To the other ancient republics, whose constitution was based naturally enough on a very artificial division of powers, and the maintenance of a certain antagonism and accurate balance between them, our notion of a supreme and sovereign political authority is scarcely applicable. It is found far more fully expressed in a special character of inviolable sanctity and dignity attaching to certain judicial functions and magistracies, such as that of the Areopagus in Athens and of the censorship at Rome in the days of the Republic, than to the transitory tenure of the executive power, over which those judicial authorities possessed and exercised in certain cases a control.

The proper and de facto, or personal division of power, is essentially a republican principle. In notion, however, or in idea, it is perfectly legitimate to make a distinction between the several functions and elements of the whole sovereign authority. Now, in such a case, the judicial power--the supreme judicial power we would emphatically say--is pre-eminently the characteristic sign and specific distinction of sovereignty, from which all its other prerogatives and properties are originally derived or flow from it as its necessary and natural consequences. The noble prerogative of pardon and mercy, for instance, is, as it were, the natural attribute of the supreme judicial power.

With respect to legislation, however, and the legislative authority, an important co-ordinate power may, according to the existing constitution of a particular state, be vested in the other correlative members of the body politic. The preliminary deliberation, the first sketch or the initiation of a law, may not, perhaps, proceed in every case from the supreme head of the community. In other states, again, the law must emanate from the free choice and individual will of the monarch, or at least the introduction of it, since he can not of himself alone make and carry out the whole. This is a point, consequently, on which it is extremely difficult to draw the boundary line, which must in no case be transgressed or deviated from--in so far, that is, and so long as there is no question about any thing more than a simple co-operation or co-ordinate deliberation upon the proposed laws. But still in every case the final sanction, by which a law becomes properly the law, or by which it is annulled or repealed, must be reserved to the royal prerogative, otherwise the monarch ceases at once to be supreme.

Even the prerogative of proclaiming war and of concluding peace is, if perhaps we may be allowed so to say, a judicial function on a large scale, and applied to the external relations of states. It is, in short, nothing less than a judicial act. And in this light it will appear to every one who does not regard it as a mere act of arbitrary caprice. This, however, it never ought to be. For it is, as it were, a verdict on the existing relations of right and wrong between two neighboring states. But in as much as both parties, in point of right and law, are in so far equal, that they refuse to recognize in common any higher judge, an absolute state of violence necessarily ensues, a struggle of power follows, until at last, in the change of circumstances, the relations of justice are restored by mutual consent. The party that first proclaims war becomes, in this process of trial by battle, the judge of its own cause. And if by the fearful issue of the combat it is taught to see its own injustice, then must it either make due concessions, or, at very best, by calling in the mediation of a third and neutral state, it must constitute it the judge by whose decision it is ready and willing to abide.

The usual insignia of the kingly dignity, the scepter and the throne, are only the signs of judicial power, as it were, promoted one degree higher, and can be historically traced up to the judge’s bench and staff. The crown alone remains as the peculiar and exclusive symbol of the highest earthly dignity. And rightly is it called a splendid burden. For while it exalts him who is called to wear it above all earthly dependence and responsibility, and exempts him from all the ordinary relations of human life, the heavy weight of this splendid ornament reminds the wearer of the grave reckoning and the strict account he will have to render to God, as the Supreme Judge of all--who is the source and sum of all justice and righteousness. For this serious and solemn responsibility is received from God, together and at the very same time with the crown.

Quite different in signification was the symbolical ensign of the old emperors in the middle ages--a sword pointing to the four winds or cardinal points of heaven. It alluded to the peculiar idea and the peculiar constitution of that dignity. For in this respect it was not simply a distinction of power, of rank, or of title, between the imperial and the kingly dignities. It involved a total and essential difference between the ideas and objects of these sacred and anointed potentates--between the elective emperor and the hereditary king, duke, or prince, although it was from these alone that the former could be duly and regularly elected. For the emperor was looked upon as armed with the sword of all Christendom to be the defender of the whole system of European states. Accordingly, as the representative of the union of several states, he bore this ensign of his imperial office.

To this ancient idea of a Christian empire we shall again have occasion to revert in the further examination of the idea of a political state and its Christian community. We shall meet with it once more in that section of our inquiry which will be occupied with the ruling principle of right and polity in a system of states as a body, and also in the mutual relations of its several members. In this section we shall also show that this principle must be either absolute, that is, one where one or more of the several members of the union exercises a superior and preponderating influence, or one artificially constituted and dynamical, i.e., a system of the so-called balance of power. And here will naturally arise the question whether, for such a confederacy of moral and civilized societies and nations, a less imperfect and higher, but common principle of Christian justice might not be found and established? For any system of mutual confederation, whether absolute or founded on the artificial relations of the strength of its respective members, is in any case defective and imperfect, whatever may be the ground of union, whether founded on the internal constitution of the states, or derived from the physical consideration of their geographical position and neighborhood.

According, then, to that divine principle and Christian foundation of the state which I have attempted to derive from the symbolical signification of life and the symbolical destiny of man in his relation to God, the highest authority of the state--the king, or generally the monarch, as well as the spiritual functionary, or the priest--are the vicegerents of a highest and divine power, whom they represent on earth. The only difference between them is, that the latter has chiefly to represent and to set forth God as teaching men, but at the same time as warning and commanding them in this revelation of His will, and as promising and as livingly dispensing to them His grace, while the former is the representative of the Omnipotent Lawgiver and Judge, who governs the world with justice, and will by no means clear the guilty. According, therefore, to the true Christian notion of these two powers, both of them--the civil no less than the spiritual--possess a representative character, which, however, deviates very widely from the ordinary notion of the representation and a representative constitution, or, rather, forms a decided contrast to them.

And what contrast can, in fact, be more decided than that which such a representative power and dignity as belongs to the ministering of the divine grace to the soul and spirit, or the dispensing of divine justice to the whole earthly life, forms with that thing of horrible memory, which has been called a representation of the people, or the systems which have been similarly designated? But even if it could be satisfactorily proved that a people, like the invisible essence of the Deity, could be represented, it is open to very grave doubt whether this is really possible in the method usually adopted. According to the principle of this kind of popular representation, where the whole adult population are entitled individually to vote, the election becomes, as it were, a lottery, and even the political winners thus determined, or the ballotted members, become so many influential units in one branch of the legislative body and for a limited period. In respect, however, to the principles and sentiments, the predominant character and spirit of a people, those who are thus chosen are the representatives not so much of the whole nation as of the reigning passion of the moment, or the spirit of the times in its restless agitation. For when thus resolved into its constituent atoms and numbered off in succession, a nation is reduced to an elementary mass. But like all that is thus elementary, when thus decomposed, and fermenting in its process of dissolution, it assumes a destructive tendency and turn. At least it ceases to form an organic whole, an individual. It is only when a state or a nation historically lives on, further develops and vitally maintains itself in its organic members, i.e., in its several estates or essential corporations, that it can be said to form a living whole, and to be, as it were, one great individual.

It is only in this sense that there can be true representatives of a people, who, if the expression is allowable, are its true historical men. It is in them that the spirit and character, the general leaning tendency, the peculiar style of feeling, sentiment, and thought of a nation, in any definite period or periods, finds its most decided and loudest expression. Rarely, however, is this attained in a system of elective deputies or representatives, which is liable to many passing and accidental influences, and, indeed, in and by itself has no connection with it. Scipio and Cato would be representatives of the Roman character and spirit, even if they had never been invested with public authority and had lived their whole lives in exile. And in the same manner purely intellectual natures may often stand for such historical characters and representatives. Horace and Tacitus most assuredly occupy the same relation to their respective ages as the two former did to theirs, and this, in truth, quite independently of any subordinate rank or political dignity and influence which either the one or the other possessed in peace or war. Cicero, indeed, would have been all this in an equal degree, and, perhaps, still more so, if, keeping entirely aloof from the civil contentions of his day, for which he was little suited, he had devoted himself to the acquisition of a purely intellectual and literary influence.

However, it is not every famous author or every brilliant political speaker that can in this sense be justly regarded as historical characters. Besides that energy of talent which creates an epoch, and which is, indeed, the primary and essential condition, certain other properties of character are required, certain sentiments and principles vividly carried out and realized in life and action. But this is a combination which is rarely found. A peculiar sphere of practical influence does not form an immediate, nor, indeed, a necessary qualification of such a character. Still it is evident that a writer who truly merits such an appellation must be something more than a mere man of letters or an artist. The effects he produces on the minds of men must be both truly national and historical. Such alone are truly and properly the historical representatives of a people--the men of their nation.

As for those other elective representatives already mentioned, it is only when they belong to a particular estate and corporation, and represent it, that they can promote the permanent interests of this organically constituted whole. For it is out of such organic members that the national existence gains its true, i.e., its historical development. But this is impossible whenever they are chosen by the individual votes of the entire population. Such a splitting of the whole political body, as it were, into its constituent atoms, is either in itself an elementary decomposition or must eventually lead to it. Even a republican constitution, if it be well and wisely ordered, will be based principally on corporations or organic division of estates, rather than on any principle of numerical majority and equality, which, taken as a general element, invariably proves, as history testifies, sooner or later, a positive source of anarchy.

Not only would it be an exaggeration, but even a gross error, were we to regard the republican polity as excluded from the Christian principle, that all sovereignty is of God, or as irreconcilable with it and even as directly contradicting its spirit. On the contrary, the duty of obedience and the actual dependence on the existing and de facto head of the state, is not less binding on all who, through the accident of birth or their own free choice and voluntary obligation, belong to such a community, than on the subjects of an hereditary monarchy. The utmost that can be safely asserted is, that the Christian state principally inclines to the latter form of polity, without, however, formally rejecting, or unconditionally excluding the former. Historical experience has shown this, and the whole of modern history will furnish abundant testimony to its truth. When the responsibility of the supreme political authority is in an endless circle shifted from point to point of a mere human sphere, then the sacred character of the divine foundation of the state exhibits itself with least distinctness. It is more immediately manifest in an hereditary monarchy, where, by a single point, as the first link which holds together the whole community, this responsibility is attached immediately to God and the divine justice, before whose tribunal it has alone to answer. And this more immediate manifestation forms the ground of that preponderating tendency and preference of the monarchical constitution by the Christian principle.

But in another respect, also, is it easier to give a religious meaning to political life in an hereditary monarchy, and to discharge its duties and to maintain it in a religious spirit, than in a republic. Since all that is human is subject to change, fluctuation, and imperfection, it would be something wonderful if the case were different with political matters, and if the state were to form a singular exception from the general rule. Such an expectation would, indeed, be strange, and contrary to the nature of things, as well as to reason and common sense. For, to take an instance from that people whom God so specially and immediately led and directed; after a wise Solomon has long and peacefully occupied the throne, with prosperity at home and splendor and renown abroad, the reins of government may fall into the weak hands of a minor, when, even without any personal culpability, all hostile elements come to an outbreak, and lead to the most fearful political consequences. And even Solomon, with a wisdom which, in many respects, was more than human, was not secure from all mistakes and errors. For inasmuch as, after receiving this illumination from above, this wisdom lent to him from God, he still remained a free agent, he might, as he actually did, pervert it to an evil use. Like every thing else that is good, it was liable to abuse by man. Generally it does not lie in the nature of things that in long succession and change of times one reign should be equally mild and paternal as another--equally prosperous and splendid--and equally wise and successful.

This, indeed, is a matter which does not depend invariably and exclusively on the personal qualities of the sovereign. It is governed much more by the peculiar circumstances of the age, and the general relations of the political world. We should err greatly if we were to suppose, or feel inclined to assert, that this change, from happy and prosperous to adverse or less fortunate times, is less frequent in republican states, or that the latter are entirely exempted from such fluctuations. History furnishes numerous instances to refute so absurd an idea. On the contrary, such changes are far more generally the rule in republican states, and their ruin advances with a more rapid and certain progress. For the growth of a republic in external power and influence, and the consequent multiplication of its relations with foreign powers, is invariably accompanied with great internal agitation, leading to sudden and violent changes. The greatest and most important difference, however, lies in this, that in an hereditary monarchy the change from a distinguished to an unfortunate and less prosperous reign is distinct, and has an assignable cause, which, by a natural and just sentiment, is received as a divine visitation, and wherever any sense of religion still survives and prevails in men’s views of life, will be patiently endured as such. Accordingly, besides its mere legal sense, the maxim that all authority is of God now assumes the further significance of a divine dispensation. And it is clearly manifest that this Christian maxim and principle was intended to convey this second meaning, and that it embraces such a religious view and estimate of political matters and events.

Now, it is true that the providence of God extends to all events and circumstances of the world. Every permission, therefore, of evil, whether in a greater or less degree, every misfortune and calamity that happens to us, must, from this point of view, be regarded either as a well-merited punishment or as a severe trial, as a wholesome pang and conflict or as a painful transition to a higher degree of perfection. This, at least, will be our feeling, in proportion as we entertain and faithfully follow a religious view and estimate of our own life and fortunes, as well as of all mundane events, in a firm and unshaken faith in the Divine Omnipotence and Wisdom. Even for the preservation and health of his physical life, man stands in need of pain and privation, but still more so for his moral improvement.

Now, notwithstanding that this principle of a divine providence is equally applicable in every case, still, even the religious estimate, not to say a simply human mode of judging of political events and relations, is in republics subject to the following important and essential modification. In such a constitution, all hangs, or is made dependent, on the choice or the caprice of men, or, if such terms be preferred, their merit and intelligence. Consequently, the entire blame of every error or miscarriage in government, whether real or imaginary, and however great or little, is forthwith ascribed to its human administrators. But an injury at the hands of man invariably provokes bitterness, revenge, and opposition. On the contrary, a misfortune which overtakes us from God, and which, as being unable to impute the blame of it to any human individual, we feel and recognize to be a divine visitation, awakens in us wholesome and salutary reflection. Thus it is founded on the very nature of things, and on a right and sound state of human feeling, that a change from a year of plenty to one of want and barrenness should be borne with patience and resignation. But if, on the other hand, a general scarcity and dearth, or any similar affliction and disproportion between the supply and demand of the necessaries of life, should occur among a trading or manufacturing population, of which the source should really or apparently lie in some erroneous measure or selfish policy of those on whom the administration of the state devolved, all minds would immediately be in a state of excitement and uproar. And, in fact, the words of the pious king in Holy Writ: “Let us fall now into the hands of the Lord, for His mercies are great: and let me not fall into the hand of man,” are quite in unison with the general feelings of human nature.

Accordingly, throughout the sacred history of the old world, and in all times where religious sentiment is not quite dead, such calamities, and even an unfortunate, not to say a wicked reign, are looked upon as the deserved visitation of God’s wrath, and as a time of heavy trial. And the chastisement of Heaven will be borne, by all right-thinking persons, not out of fear of man, but as is fitting, in reverent submission to the divine will, with manly patience and resignation. On the other hand, innumerable instances of a contrary course might be produced from republican times and histories. How often, in such states, has a false step in government, trifling, indeed, in itself, but still in fact and in truth, a blunder in one party, been the occasion of an opposition and resistance of another, and of a general feeling of discontent and a violent reaction, which have proved a hundred times more fatal and pernicious than the first occasion of popular murmurs. How often has a merely human oversight, trivial enough in itself, and running counter to public opinion in some little trifle, led to the most fearful catastrophes, amid which the first exciting cause is lost sight of and entirely forgotten, and finally all is involved in one general ruin.

In this respect, and in this degree, it may safely be affirmed that the Christian principle of the state is more favorable to an hereditary monarchy than to a republican constitution. But at this point the proposition must be left purposely indeterminate. For a rigorous exclusion of all republican states, as if, properly, they could never be right and legitimate, would most assuredly not be accordant with the Christian principle of a state and the fundamental religious conception of all political relations and events. On the contrary, it would, undoubtedly, go directly counter to all proper feelings and ideas on the subject. For the Christian principle of justice respects all that has an historical existence, and leaves even the imperfect in the undisturbed possession of its rights. In this respect it is entirely opposed to the revolutionary spirit. For the latter, in its inmost essence, is anti-historical; its first step being the refusal to recognize the value and the claims of all that comes down from, and has been established by, the past. And, moreover, the Christian idea of justice, with all its strict rigor, involves a principle of equity. For, in truth, every Christian sentiment embraces the whole of life, and its several relations, with a loving mildness, and pays a due regard to all really existent though subordinate circumstances. And it is this exactly that constitutes the very notion of equity. Lastly, the doctrine of Christianity, and the idea of human life which it gives rise to, is highly favorable to true liberty. But, then, it is liberty, in a large and exalted sense of the term, in which, first and before all, a spiritual and moral freedom is meant as necessary to be firmly established within men before the external liberty in social and political life can be hoped for. For most true is the sublime declaration, “If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” To every one for whom this sentiment possesses a meaning and significance it would be superfluous to add, what, indeed, is so palpably evident, that the Son makes no one free except in the way that He Himself was, viz., by obedience--a perfect obedience which brings the whole man, with all its passions and affections, as a free-will offering to the Father.

The predominant tendency of modern Christendom to a monarchical constitution, as most accordant with the Christian principle of the state, is abundantly evinced in history. The fact is so generally admitted, that it is almost a work of supererogation to adduce instances of it. Not only within the memory of living men, but also two centuries ago, a great Christian monarchy, fanatically possessed and inflamed with the idea of absolute liberty and equality, lapsed for a while into a republic. But in both cases this passing fever of fanaticism soon worked itself out by its very violence, and the foreign and diseased matter was thrown off by the political body. It was out of this crisis, however, that the much-lauded constitution of England arose, with its dynamical theory of the division and nicely-adjusted balance of power, which has reached at present so great a height of practical excellence. Moreover, it is almost superfluous to notice the fact how a second-rate maritime power, which in its very origin was entirely republican, gradually approximated to, and has at last entirely adopted, a monarchical polity. Another state, monarchical indeed, but which, from the fact that its sovereigns were elective, deserves rather to be called a republic, and in some respects was really so, amid the anarchy of party and the feuds which arose out of the elections, soon lost its ancient greatness and splendor, and even its existence as an independent nation. In short, in the whole of Christian Europe, but a few small and uninfluential communities have retained a republican form. As for the republics which have sprung up out of the colonial states in the New World, the very oldest of them are of too recent an origin to allow us to pass upon them any judgment which could be justly and truly called historical. On the other hand, however, the modern Christian era furnishes one remarkable phenomenon of a republican state on a large scale, and of a wholly peculiar kind. And we may adduce this instance as a proof that such a constitution is by no means excluded from the spirit of a Christian polity or its legitimate and historical principle.

I am alluding to the ancient German, or the Christian Roman Empire of the middle ages, during a period of many centuries, and in the time of its vigor and splendor, when it led, not to say, formed, the great political world. As an elective empire, but still monarchical in the unity of the whole, it possessed so far a republican tendency and shape. And this it preserved even long afterward, when, by a long succession of emperors of the same house, the imperial crown had in fact become almost the hereditary right of a single family; for the solemn sanction of an election was still indispensable, and this gave rise to more than one exception or interruption to the otherwise historically confirmed law of succession. Moreover, this great system or confederation of states embraced many smaller and principally republican states; at least in its members were comprised every possible form of political constitution. The four great dukedoms, who in the imperial diet were the original representatives, together with the other hereditary powers which subsequently attained to the electoral dignity, formed, as it were, the monarchical element in the whole body, retaining, however, at the same time, its national and popular character. Alongside of these the spiritual princes, as entirely dependent on choice and election for their dignities, formed an aristocracy, not only of birth, but of science and the intellectual culture of the age--in short, an aristocracy of merit. Lastly, the trading and manufacturing free towns, with their imperial privileges and charters, formed, among the other members of the Empire, a true democratical element, in the highest and noblest sense of the term. For we must not understand thereby any mere universal equality, leading to the usual popular anarchy, but corporations, with well-defined rights, of the burgher classes, as they attained to historical importance and influence. The very name of the Hanse Towns is sufficient to remind us of the vast and important part which the latter played, even in the declining times of the Empire.

Thus free and republican in its spirit was the old Christian monarchy of the German Kaisers. It had no doubt to undergo many convulsions from domestic faction, and, finally sunk beneath them. Still this political constitution of the middle ages, in their best days, must forever remain a remarkable and singular phenomenon. Its full and deep significance and grandeur are little recognized, and still less perfectly understood, by the modern science of politics. Peculiarly Christian in principle, in its kingly administration as vigorous and successful as any other state in the most brilliant eras of the history of the world, while in the internal development of its republican members and constituents it was more rich and varied, and, in truth, much freer than even the most lauded among the mixed constitutions of modern times. For historical experience, that great teacher of political science, distinctly proves that in those dynamical states, which are based on the principle of the division and nicely-adjusted balance of power, the ministry and the opposition usurp between them all the functions of authority, while the sacred cipher of an hereditary monarch is nothing more than a mere shadow, beneath which they can sit at ease to carry on their endless disputes.

The Christian view, then, of the world, and of the state, as we have already remarked, does not exclude or reject any form of political existence. On the contrary, it recognizes whatever possesses an historical cause and foundation, and allows it to stand in its proper place, and in its true and original significance and rights. Accordingly, it admits the validity as such even of the dynamical form of polity, even though it feels it impossible to agree with partial and enthusiastic admirers in considering it as perfect. Nay, it does not reject even an absolute despotism, notwithstanding that it sees clearly enough all its imperfections and great inferiority. It is only by a complete view of history that their existence can be explained and understood. And in this they will appear either as a necessary evil in its mildest form, i.e., as the less pernicious and dangerous, under existing circumstances, or as a remedy for some more fearful disorder, by which alone the social frame can be restored to a more healthy condition.

The usual transition and natural issue of popular anarchy, when it has lasted long enough to exhaust its own fearful violence, is a perpetual dictatorship or despotism in some shape or other, but devoid of a higher and diviner sanction. This form of government, or (since, strictly speaking, it is not a form) this political condition, must be carefully distinguished from a long-established, legitimate, and hereditary monarchy, with which its whole character has nothing in common. No doubt when the revolutionary evil has reached its greatest height, and when a successful and prudent usurper, like the much-lauded Augustus in ancient Rome, without being personally answerable for the overthrow of the previous constitution, appears pre-eminently in the character of mediator between parties and a general pacificator, the world is ready to accord to him its applause. Gradually his authority is more and more widely acknowledged. Although at first he is recognized conditionally only and relatively, nevertheless, if he remains faithful to his better tendencies, and continues to the last to confer important benefits on his people, he may often give a permanent and historical foundation to his dynasty. But if, on the contrary, under his usurped power, revolution, phenix-like, only renews itself out of its own ashes, and the old anarchy from below revives in another form from above, as a merely military despotism, which, in its resistless and annihilating lust of conquest, honors nothing, but throws the whole world into confusion, then is the second evil worse than the first, which it promised to remedy. By such a course it loses its only moral foundation, inasmuch as it was to the better promise it held out that it owed its temporary and conditional recognition. Such an instance has been brought closely enough before our eyes in the history of very recent times, to enable us at once intuitively to understand its whole character. More slowly, and in a more organized method, and, consequently, with more lasting and historical results, did such transitions shape themselves in the ancient world, and especially in the Roman constitution. The ancient development, therefore, of this phenomenon, and its special form, is highly instructive and pre-eminently calculated to throw a clear light on our whole theory.

Modern history at no period presents to us such a vast system of republican states as we meet with in the annals of antiquity, which exhibit this under the most various forms, as the predominant constitution of the whole civilized world, not only in its infant, but in its maturest and most flourishing development. Not only the Grecian communities, Carthage, Rome, and the Italian municipalities, but also all the independent nations of central and northern Europe, possessed a more or less perfect form of republican polity. This portion, therefore, of ancient history furnishes to political science a phenomenon which in the highest degree demands its attention. However greatly its freedom of inquiry and high intellectual culture, its splendid examples of patriotism and its noble characters and heroic deeds, may prepossess us in its favor, on the whole we are forced to confess that experience has decided against such a system. This great teacher shows it to us as utterly impracticable, and ill adapted to promote the real progress of human development, inasmuch as with whatever of brightest promise it may begin, it invariably terminates in barbarism and disorder. In all of these states we trace early enough the same evil tendency to political license and anarchy, which, developing itself with ceaseless rapidity, soon paves the way to the indeterminate condition of absolute power. Almost all the great thinkers and political writers of antiquity, without exception, set themselves to oppose the democratic element of their national constitutions, and foresaw and predicted the ruin of their country from this source, without being able in any way to prevent it. It will be enough to mention Plato in Athens, and in a different manner and degree, Cicero in Rome, who was himself drawn into the vortex of political strife. The remedy and counterpoise for the evils of this democratical spirit was sought by the political thinkers and philosophers of those times, in a doubtlessly noble but still very imperfect form of an aristocracy--a remedy which is as little consonant to our feelings as it is unlikely to satisfy our scientific convictions. A just and clear idea of an hereditary and well-regulated monarchy was at that date almost entirely unknown, since in its essential features, in its true and perfect character, it is entirely of a Christian origin. In the ancient world, at most, a few and faint outlines of it are occasionally to be discovered.

The internal and external dissensions of the republics of Greece, and the consequent loss of their independence and subjugation by the Macedonian monarchy, or the half-Asiatic half-Grecian powers which sprung out of it, affords a sufficient confirmation of the law that the republican constitution, in the times of moral degeneracy, invariably terminates in popular anarchy and ruin. The same transition in the Roman polity presents us with interesting considerations of a higher but different kind. For in this instance the change was effected with clear ideas, definite views, and well-digested principles. After a long and unparalleled succession of bloody civil wars, and an equally fearful series of foreign conquest and aggression, which were almost indispensable as an outlet for the wild and ambitions passions of men, the catastrophe which forecasting minds had long foreseen at last came about. And instead of continuing a hopeless resistance, it was now the first object of the wise and prudent to convert the new military power into an instrument of peace, and by investing the modern but absolute authority with all the old and hallowed forms of dignity, to bring it as near as possible to the character of an hereditary monarchy. It is to the tendency to improvement which forms the germ of these ideas that we must look for the apology, while in the course of history at this period there lies whatever there can be of reason and justification for such absolute despotism as prevailed at this era in the political world. In itself, however, it can not be too often repeated, it is altogether formless and full of imperfection. A true family succession and hereditary dynasty, however, was scarcely possible, so long as there existed no limit to caprice in adoption or divorce, and when all the relations of marriage and the family were undermined by the universal corruption in morals, which the better emperors sought in vain to check and restrain.

By the ascription to the imperial dignity of priestly offices and titles belonging to the popular religion, it was indeed attempted to give it a more sacred character and sanction. This, however, secured to the emperor no real accession of power. Such was the state of decay and weakness in which religion, no less than morals, was sunk. The heathenism of those days consisted in nothing but some poetical legends, external rites, and ceremonial pomp, which occasionally found a philosophical interpretation, but without a proper intrinsic substance and coherence, and an organized priesthood--all which are to be still found in the ancient religion of the Hindoos. And it was only a natural addition to the other numerous inconsistencies--it only rendered the whole drama the more revolting, if, after an inhuman reign, and after being at last put out of the way in a very human, and, at the same time, very unhuman way, the hated tyrant was in conclusion placed among the national gods. And if under Aurelius and the Antonines better days appeared, still they were but brief and transitory, since they did not, and in truth could not, possess any historical confirmation and moral basis like that of the hereditary monarchy of Christian times and states.

In jurisprudence, not only as a science, but in its practical administration, the Romans have in all ages, and even modern times, been justly famous. One reason, perhaps, of this was the fact, that all who still retained the least sense of right and justice, withdrawing from the dangers of political life and honors, retired to the still inviolate domain of law, and devoted themselves to the development of the old juristic principles. But when the whole social frame, and the very principle of civil existence has become in its inmost essence unrighteous, and based on injustice, a few just laws about property, and robbery, and fraud, and murder, and the like (offenses which, generally speaking, are, for the most part, essentially the same in all times and places), can profit little. Equally unavailing, too, are the shrewdest and most sagacious of juridical treatises on such topics. To extol the Roman Empire on this ground would be tantamount to praising one of the worst and most pernicious systems of philosophical error, or excusing it because it does not violate, or, rather, because it necessarily observes, the ordinary rules of logic, which, however, does not by any means lessen or remove the error, but, on the contrary, aggravates it; since by rendering it so much the more specious, it does but gain for it a more ready acceptance among men.

In the later epoch of the Christian renovation of the Roman Empire in the German, the better elements of the old Roman jurisprudence were rich in valuable and beneficial results. Still the Christian principle of the state accords better with the old Teutonic laws than with the civil code, inasmuch as by the old German usages a greater regard is paid, and a higher influence allowed, to the rights of equity. No doubt but the Roman jurisprudence has most acutely defined and developed this beautiful notion; but it is chiefly as an exception from strict right that it recognizes it at all. For such was the Roman law from its commencement; and it was regarded and established as the proper province of equity to moderate and to soften its original sternness and severity. But, according to Christian law, equity and strict right ought to be in every instance intimately associated and blended together, as is, indeed, implied in the very idea of Christian sentiment and feeling.

Herein lies, consequently, the great and essential distinction between Roman and Christian law. And this is the principle on which a thorough and systematic development of Christian jurisprudence must proceed, and in such a spirit alone can it be consistently carried out. A second distinctive mark of Christian law and of its very conception consists in this, that beyond all others, it is founded on historical rights. No doubt in its simple and natural character the Germanic custom invariably tends toward an historical legislation, both for the burgher and for the private individual, and is so far perfectly reconcilable with the Christian principle of right and justice. But in the full and extensive signification of the term, as it embraces the state, and all such powers of the civilized world as are brought by geographical contact into political relations with each other, it is only the Christian principle of right that can be truly said to be historical; for none but the Christian view of the world really embraces in its plans and consideration the whole of mankind.

Had man not fallen from the very first into dissension and discontent with himself and his fellows, with nature and with God, society would have stood in no need of a constraining force, or of the state to constrain it. For what else is the state but an armed neutrality for the preservation of peace--a sword of justice against wrong, whether from individuals or communities, a fortress and a bulwark against unjust attacks and the violence of war? And whence but from that only perfect system--the system of Christian truth and the first opening of revelation--can we derive the explanation of that which is but the propagation of the old evil and the primal curse? Does it not furnish, in the first wrong and the first fratricide, the historical derivation and origin of the state, accounting for it as the divinely-appointed protection against man’s inborn tendency to injustice? And if in any other history or tradition a tolerably clear and definite allusion to such ideas exist, it was, without doubt, originally derived from the same source.

It is, however, as in my last Lecture I have already endeavored to show, in the second and new divine commencement of the human race that we are to look for the true sanction and foundation of the state; for it is in this renovation of mankind that their true intrinsic and higher peace was first proclaimed and offered to him. Not, however, perfect peace, for that is to be the fruit and reward of having “fought a good fight.” Still it is, in the mean time, a sure and everlasting basis of future peace, and an ever-growing germ of tranquillity even in the present. Viewed in this light, then, every human peace which is not merely specious and pretended, but honestly intended, and in so far Christian, however imperfect and partial, forms, nevertheless, a step in the great scale of progression--an approximation and a preparation to that universal and all-embracing peace of God which is higher than all reason, and all the disputes which arise out of or about it.

If injustice and wrong should ever disappear totally from the earth--if the peace of God were actually established thereon, then would the end of law be attained, and all institutions for its accomplishment would become superfluous. Law presupposes a condition of struggle, and is intended to endure as long as it lasts. It is itself nothing less than a struggle against wrong. The Christian view, accordingly, and theory of law, is far higher. In a scientific point of view, too, it alone is satisfactory on this account, that it recognizes a higher principle as the source of right, or as right itself, and that it alone contains in itself the historical key for the whole, and embraces at once the beginning and the end. But now the Christian idea of right is thus historical, not merely because it furnishes a complete explanation of the first beginning of wrong, and gives an historical derivation of the divine sanction of the state; but also in this sense, that in obedience to the principle of equity, as extended to the wider relations of political life, and to the law of toleration founded on this feeling, it respects even the imperfect and inferior degrees of right, whenever, at least, they are the unavoidable results of a previous course of things, and possess an historical foundation, and are established as less evil, and at least as comparatively good. And this explains, what is otherwise incomprehensible, how the Christian sense of right could reconcile itself to the absolute form, or, rather, formlessness of the later Roman world, and being gradually associated and fused therewith, led to its complete renovation in the exalted phenomenon of a Christian empire.

This peace-loving and tolerant recognition of imperfect political constitutions and forms of state is only applicable, however, where the absolute and the pernicious had its foundation in some historical occasion, and where, by a natural course of development, the evil has followed as the result of some previous defective condition of the political body. It has no place where the evil is radical and of spontaneous growth, as in the empire of Mohammed, and of his immediate successors; for a fanatical lust of conquest was introduced in the first germ of this dynasty, and indeed formed its foundation and its animating and vital principle. The brilliant success and personal talents of the first caliphs may indeed win our admiration and chain our imagination, but still in the very worst times of the old Roman world absolute power never presented itself in so unmitigated a form as it does in this empire of deadly fanaticism. This is the calm judgment of history. In the former case the evil sprung chiefly from the personal caprice of individual tyrants; in the latter, the pervading principle was despotism, which, on the whole, remained unchanged in the most famous and greatest characters. For such immutability is an essential principle of despotism whenever the spiritual and the temporal power are held by the same hand, and are united in one common center and sovereign.

In another point of view also, that, viz., of the moral estimate, the historical comparison between the old Roman and the Mohammedan empires turns out to the disadvantage of the latter. In the latter times of the Roman Empire, the family relations, and the sacred ties of married life, were no doubt greatly disturbed and perverted by the prevailing tone of immorality. But among the Mohammedans they were entirely overthrown by a false religion. Even in this respect, therefore, it is evident that there could be no place in the latter for that moral foundation of a long-established family unity, such as a civilized state like the Christian monarchy requires. It is nothing strange, consequently, if in the times of the Arabian dynasty, the Mohammedan state stood in more decided opposition, and proved less reconcilable to the Christian polity than ever heathenism did in the days of ancient Rome. But, notwithstanding this, we find, on the other side, the Christian principle of peace extending itself even to the historical phenomena and political relations of the Mohammedan world. For the most part (and in a greater degree with the advance of time) these events have been judged in that mild spirit of historical justice which, in its complete and comprehensive estimate, allows a due consideration to every motive and circumstance.

Moreover, a high principle of toleration has extended to them the benefit of the international laws of Christian states--a policy which only requires to be rightly understood to be pronounced in no ways deserving of blame or reprobation; for the evil can only be radically extirpated by the complete triumph of Christian truth over the false foundation and leading idea of this fanatical delusion.

But, however improbable it may seem, regarded merely in an historical light, that the Mohammedan races will ever adopt Christian sentiments, morals, and principles, still in the great course of mundane things, or, in other words, in the counsels of Providence, nothing, however it may contradict human expectations, can rightly be held to be impossible. And, indeed, recent times furnish many speaking indications of a growing tendency to such an approximation. Many signs might be pointed out, which, while they bear witness to a widening and deepening feeling of its desirableness, encourage us to entertain higher and better hopes. To promote, and indeed to co-operate in bringing about so great and divine a consummation, so long as it can be done without violating higher duties and principles, does not appear to go in any degree beyond the sphere of a truly Christian and pacific policy, or to interfere with the relations which it is right to observe in regard to non-Christian states. On the contrary, the worst violation thereof, and one that most surely menaces danger and mischief, is for a Christian state, in direct opposition to its natural principle and vocation, to be seized and actuated by a fanatical lust of conquest similar to that which animated the Saracens. Such a subversion and confusion of all moral ideas, and of political life, was publicly manifested, for the first time in the Christian world, during the French Revolution. Breaking out with furious violence, in the brief period of its duration it developed itself with fearful rapidity. How many, or, rather, how few steps it would have required, had its reign been longer, to convert it into a military despotism, thoroughly heathenish, such as the Revolution indeed was from beginning to end; into a despotism which, like that of the caliphate already mentioned, should unite in the same person all spiritual, as well as temporal authority, we need not here further investigate. The dreadful possibility of such a contingency has been brought only too closely home to our fears.

The essence of despotism, as I said before, lies in the union in one person of the civil and spiritual powers--or in a most anomalous state, which is, by a rare and faulty combination, at once spiritual and temporal. And since the distinction between the two powers is involved in the very notion of a Christian state, it is of the highest importance that the state should carefully observe and respect the boundaries between the two domains. It is extremely difficult to establish any general standard for all the cases of collision between the two that either have actually occurred or are conceivably possible. For it is evident that this contingency must be modified in an infinite number of ways, by existing treaties, the local circumstances and political constitution of the different states. The chief point is the general spirit and feeling. The question turns principally on good will and honest intentions; but pre-eminently on a right conception of both powers, as alike possessing in their respective spheres a higher sanction, a divine foundation, and a sacred character. This must be recognized in every case and time, and all circumstances belonging to either sphere must be treated accordingly.

Many and serious cases of such collision between the church and the state have occurred and are perpetually recurring. Many and grave errors have been committed on both sides. But for the most part they have been unfairly judged, or, rather, misjudged, through ignorance both of the times, and of the actual circumstances of the case. The day is not long gone by when in this respect it was the habitual rule to subject certain of the early popes especially to an unqualified vituperation and censure. And it must be told, to the praise of German impartiality, that Protestant writers were the first, by their historical researches, to do justice to and to form a fair estimate of these, in their day, truly great and eminent characters. Still we do not by any means pretend to deny that both in these and later times grave blame rests with many of the popes individually. On neither side, however, and at no time, were the limits which divide the two powers overstepped so far as they were by Henry VIII. of England, that absolute monarch in temporals, and who wished also to be equally supreme in spirituals. The most despotic sovereign that ever sat on the throne of England, by founding [the independence of] the Anglican Church, became undesignedly and unconsciously the true author of that much-lauded constitution of England, which, essentially resting on this foundation, furnishes the only instance of a dynamical polity, as the only remedy of an otherwise incurable tendency to division and anarchy, attaining to a highly perfect shape and development. As for the schism in the faith, which in these latter times has in so many Christian countries made the problem of religion only the more difficult, and its relation to the state more delicate and liable to aggression, it has in England, through this royal reformer, assumed so complicated a shape that, unsolved as yet, it appears to many, judging of it in a merely human light, totally and forever incapable of solution.

We must reserve to the succeeding Lecture the enumeration of all the results which flow from these premises, and this first outline of a truly Christian justice, which as such involves the principle of equity, and is even truly historical.