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,[53]
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,”[54] 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.”[55] 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.[56] 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.[57] 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 _un_human 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.”[58] 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,[59] 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.