OF THE TRUE IDEA OF A THEOCRACY; OF THE MIGHT OF SCIENCE, AND OF THE
FINAL RESTORATION AND PERFECTION OF THE HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS.
The idea which the adverse party, or opposition, in the political
domain, and in the scientific theory of politics, usually form of a
theocracy, is for the most part incorrect. By the adverse party I mean
all those who either openly assail, or privately call in question, the
religious foundation, the higher sanction, and the divine authority of
the state; in short, those in general who are hostile to the religious
sentiment. The latter apply the idea of theocracy and employ the term to
signify the rule of the spiritual power, such as the Egyptian priesthood
may, perhaps, or, at least, such as they suppose them to have
possessed--or a polity where the supreme temporal authority works in
unison with the sacerdotal class.
And even by the defenders of the good cause--by men of higher and better
principles, the idea is frequently taken in too inaccurate and
indefinite, not to say incorrect, a sense. They seem to understand by it
nothing more than the divine authority of the state and of the Church,
and their mutual support and dependence, and their co-operation. But
nothing can be more erroneous than such a notion. For the kingly
dignity, no less than the priestly, as respects the divine authority,
which is inherent in both, is not immediate, but vicarious and
representative.
When, however, we turn to its original source--to the historical basis,
_i.e._, to Christian revelation, and derive therefrom the true idea of a
theocracy, we shall find it to be very different from the assumption
which each of these parties tacitly advances as self-evident. The idea
of a theocracy can only be properly determined from the instance of the
Jews. The history of that nation will not only enable us fully to
develop it as an actual form of polity, having an historical origin and
existence, but also in the clearest and readiest way to illustrate it.
Now the passage from revolution, civil war, and anarchy, to absolute
despotism, in its genetic progress, can be most clearly and most
profitably traced in Roman history. The true nature, moreover, of the
dynamical polity can be learned from the historically originated and
historically preserved exemplification of it in England, far better than
from any theory, or from any scheme of a constitution propounded for the
occasion of some state experiment, for all such experiments require the
lasting test of a few generations, or at least of half a century before
any decided opinion can be passed on their success and historical
permanency. And just in the same way the peculiar character and essence
of a theocracy can be deduced from no source so clearly or so fully as
from the Jewish history. Or, rather, the true idea of it can be acquired
from no other channel, since among this people only has a theocracy ever
existed as a real form of national polity. And here it continued in
force for nearly four hundred years.
However poor may be the part which the people of Israel played in the
great drama of the world’s history, in comparison with that of the great
conquering nations, the Persians, Greeks, and Romans, still the
prophetic people (whose importance must be sought only in this
designation, or, in other words, their continual relation to the
future), possesses, even in their peculiar code of laws and form of
government, a remarkable interest for the historian. For in the true
historical estimate of things mere extent of power can not pass for the
exclusive standard of greatness and importance. And this has been
already the judgment of many writers of history, who, as far as regards
this particular subject, and the general question of religion, must
undoubtedly be pronounced free from either prepossession or prejudice.
The way, too, in which this ancient people have survived the destruction
of their national government, and for nearly two thousand years since
have uniformly remained separate from all other nations, has been more
than once confessed to be a very striking phenomenon, unparalleled in
the history of the world.
Moses, from whom that theocracy first emanated, or, rather, with whom it
commenced, was not himself the High Priest. His brother Aaron enjoyed
that dignity. He neither wished nor had a title to hold it. He had no
hereditary claim to it, neither was he elected to it by the people. And
yet he stood in no man’s place, nor did he forcibly dispossess any one
of his right. And so even, if for a while we dismiss the theological
view entirely from our regard, and, forgetting it for a moment, judge
of the matter by the strictest juristic notions, we can not call him a
usurper, even in that sense of the term which comprises the demagogue’s
character. At an earlier period of his life, he appeared likely to
become a mere liberator in the usual sense of the word. In this
character, however, he does not appear unjust, even though he allowed
himself to be hurried into an act of violence against a petty tyrant
among the oppressors of his countrymen. And at a later period, when he
had received his call, we can not in his conduct toward the Egyptians
discover any trace of injustice, even judging him by the strictest legal
notions. Now, the authority which Moses exercised over his own people,
while he led them through the wilderness, rested on the immediate
exercise of the divine powers which were lent to him from above, and
which were immediately acknowledged as such, and nowhere met with any
considerable resistance. And, accordingly, properly speaking, no
question was ever raised against a right which was based entirely on
those imparted powers, although they were totally devoid of any formal
or distinct act of legal sanction. The office he held was prophetical.
But by this term I do not mean merely according to its later and more
obvious meaning, the function of warning or promising, of teaching or
predicting, but all this, and something more--a higher and divine power,
which vividly and persuadingly displayed itself in life and deeds.
Looking at it in a general light, and as applied to a case which, at
least, we can think of as not impossible, of the Almighty having sent,
or purposing to send, a second Moses to some other people, then the
circumstance we lately mentioned, that this Moses forcibly dispossessed
no one of his rights, and had made no unrighteous revolution, must be
taken into consideration, even if it might not simply by itself serve as
the characteristic or distinctive test of the genuineness of the
vocation in question.
For a power emanating from God, and truly divine, would never violate or
forcibly subvert any established right, whether essentially sacred or
hallowed only by prescription. It will respect the least privilege of
equals and inferiors no less than the greatest prerogative of superiors.
I have introduced these remarks in order to determine more precisely the
right point of view for an historical comparison of Moses with every
other character that sets himself before the world in the same light,
whether the parallel be made with Mohammed, or that still earlier Indian
Mohammed who is usually called Buddha, although this is only an honorary
epithet, and not the name of any historical person in particular. And
the same standard will hold good for our judging of any other reformer
of the world who makes religion the instrument of his ambition, to
whatever age he may belong, or any modern Mohammed, in whatever part of
the world he may arise.
As regards the religion itself, or the matter of the pretended
revelation, there is another characteristic mark by which we may
distinguish a genuine from a spurious mission from God. Although it is
both external and negative, still, as being historical, it deserves to
be here adduced. It is this: a genuine revelation is, in the doctrine
which it promulgates, at the same time both old and new. It is new in
regard to its novel application to life and in its fulfillments, and
also to its animating force and spiritual awakening; but old in so far
as invariably referring to an earlier revelation and to a still older
source of light, it remounts up to the pure fountain of eternal truth.
And such is, throughout, the case even with the Mosaic revelation. It
continually leads the inquirer back to some higher and remoter
source--some deeper spring of everlasting light. And on the same
principle it also has been acknowledged as such by the Christian or
divine philosophy of the Spirit, and Moses has been recognized and
honored from all time as its founder. In the domain of religion, to be
absolutely new is equivalent with being false or groundless, namely,
totally detached from the old and everlasting foundations, without
connection therewith, and, consequently, isolated and arbitrary.
In reference to, and as contrasted with, the above characteristics of
genuine revelation, there is for the most part in systems of imposture
as little really new as actually old. This is especially the case with
the doctrine and Koran of Mohammed, however much it may have been lauded
for its poetry, or on account of the rhetorical art and vigor which it
displays. Its subject-matter and doctrines are not really new, since
they are but recasts of Jewish and Christian ideas, which it has freely
borrowed, mixing them together and adapting them to an obvious end and
design; and yet not old, since it does not go back far enough or deep
enough, and never remounts to the first beginning of nature and of man,
far less to the threefold fountain of divine life.
Now, with respect to Moses: an historical judge of the ordinary kind,
who could not enter into the religious view of his character and office,
might say, “This is quite a strange world to us, a very remote period;
much is there in this history difficult to explain and extremely
obscure. This much, however, seems to follow from the whole history: the
man possessed extraordinary mental powers for his times, and an equally
uncommon strength of character; no wonder, then, if he bore down all
obstacles, and by the force of genius carried every thing before him.”
Such an estimate, however, reduces every thing to the force of genius in
an heroic character, instead of a higher and immediate operation of
divine power and the prophetic office founded thereon. Superficially
judging this false view, eluding, or, rather, perverting, the divine
illumination, admits of an application, though delusive and specious
enough, to Moses, on account of those ample powers of genius which, no
doubt, he possessed, or even on account of the sublimity of his style,
which the very heathens could appreciate and admire. Still, it is in no
way applicable to that line of men, for the most part of the very
simplest character, who succeeded him, and during the period of the
theocracy down to the time of the kings, held what was immediately a
divine or prophetic rule. It was not by any hereditary title or formal
choice that they ruled; neither were they priests any more than Moses.
Called immediately by God to the dignity of judge, they suddenly stood
before the people, to be instantly and without opposition acknowledged,
and thereupon their mission and authority were at once established,
without any external sanction or solemnities, or any form of legal
recognition.
The general condition of the Jewish people under the Judges was that of
a noble and not uncivilized nomadic race. We must not confound this
description, however, with the so-called natural state of a wild and
barbarous people, but rather think of it as resembling that of the
Arabians generally before the time of Mohammed, or of a few tribes still
subsisting in the most retired parts of Arabia, where, under their most
distinguished leaders, as shepherd princes they lead a roving life of
hereditary freedom. Similar, or at least not very different, was the
mode of life and state of society that prevailed among the Hebrews in
the interregnums which occur in this long period of the Judges. Toward
the close of this period, judges first arise who are invested with the
priestly as well as the judicial dignity. These form, accordingly, the
transition to the regal government and the epoch of the kings. For when
the people at last demanded a king to rule over them, like the
neighboring Gentiles, every sanction that could exalt, and every
sacerdotal inauguration that could be thought of, was conferred upon the
appointed tribe and the kingly house. But at the same time the priestly
dignity was guarded strictly and jealously from encroachment, and the
temporal power was rigorously kept free from all union and confusion
with the sacerdotal authority. But that wild and tumultuous demand of
the people, or, I should say, of _public opinion_, which at that time
was in favor of a monarch with the same pomp and splendor as the Gentile
sovereigns displayed, as in more modern times it directs itself to the
no less heathenish attraction of liberty, was imputed to them and
depicted as a grievous fall and religious infidelity. For in the
previous times of the direct theocracy, Jehovah Himself had been their
true but invisible king, while, as is expressly asserted, the judges and
leaders were only His embassadors or plenipotentiaries. Under the first
kings we may discern, in the historical description of the sacred books,
many traces of that higher power, and its immediate exercise and
effects. Subsequently, however, it totally disappears; and after the
division of the two kingdoms, the contrast in the personal powers and
character of the later sovereigns, and the consequent fortunes of the
people, so accordant with the political history of other Asiatic
countries, becomes most decided.
The preceding remarks will, I hope, be sufficient to throw out, in
perfect distinctness, the true idea of a theocracy, such as it has been
historically developed. For inasmuch as in the present age, and amid the
party disputes which mark it, this idea has been employed in so many
various acceptations, and mostly in a false or partial sense, I thought
it expedient, in the present place, not to omit to sift the question to
the utmost. Now, in a very remarkable manner, a single element, from the
earlier and original theocracy of the olden time, still survived among
the Jews in the period of the monarchy. It formed no longer indeed the
supreme power of the state, for this was held by the kings, but
constituted formally and avowedly an antagonism to them, as a
well-defined opposition, which, so long as it confined itself within its
due limits, was altogether righteous and justifiable, and which we may
justly designate as legitimate and divine. In this light we must view
the position of the later prophets, who, without, however, being
invested with any special political dignity or power, dared to raise,
before a vicious government--or, since in those simple days of old every
thing was more or less personal--before a wicked king who had forgotten
his high vocation, the voice of warning or denunciation. This peculiar
form of a political opposition, and, as such, recognized to be
legitimate and allowable, this remnant of the once exclusive theocracy
and a complete supremacy of the prophets, which still survived in the
time of the kings, forms a phenomenon as highly remarkable as it is
singular in its kind. And those who have no admiration but for
opposition, might, perhaps, if they could disentangle themselves from
the forms of their own days, or the notions imbibed at school, find here
an object altogether worthy of their praise. They might probably find
the duties of an uncompromising and yet justifiable and lawful
opposition to the state discharged by an Elijah with equal, if not
greater intelligence, strength of mind, and energy of character, as well
as sense of justice, as by the Ephori in Sparta, or a Demosthenes in
Athens during the Macedonian ascendency, or by the most virtuous of the
censors, and the most upright of the tribunes of the people in old Rome;
or even by the parliament of England. It was only in the last period of
the total decline of the Israelitish nation, and shortly before and
during the first days of the Roman dominion, that the regal dignity and
the office of High Priest were united in one family (for even here they
were not invariably associated in the same person), in such a manner as
to correspond with the notion that is at present usually understood by
the term theocracy.
Far otherwise, however, was it, in this respect, with the Christian
world. The first apostolical preachers of the new doctrine of grace and
founders of an era which was truly, and in a divine sense, new,
undoubtedly did not possess less of that immediate miraculous power than
even a Moses or an Elijah. But the only use they made of it was to
promote the diffusion and to set forth the glory of religion. Once only
did the first of the Apostles, for the sake of preserving the
hierarchical authority, and the purity of the community which professed
to give up itself and all that it had to God, make a retributive use of
the divine authority committed to him. He who for the love of money was
false to the cause of God and of truth, was struck dead by the avenging
glance of him who in will was united with God as the everlasting Judge.
Never did the Apostles employ their power against the state, or avail
themselves of it in opposition to its decrees. And yet the despotic
measures of the Roman Government toward the degraded nation it had
brought, by force of arms, under its oppressive yoke, might seem, at
least, to justify such an interference with its unlawful usurpation. Not
even in self-defense, or to escape from afflictions or bonds, did they
once employ the theocratic powers committed to them.
The idea of a theocracy which is entertained in the present day is so
loose and shifting, and its application generally so erroneous, that it
is necessary to show, at length, how little the common views of it are
founded on truth. There exists no foundation for them in the view or
theory of a Christian state in its first and simple origin. And as
little is it the case with the succeeding epochs of Christianity. Such
extraordinary powers, as were manifested from time to time and intrusted
to particular individuals, have ever been employed for the diffusion of
the faith, its internal development, or to glorify it before
unbelievers, or for a new confirmation of old truths, but never for the
purpose of founding a temporal power or political influence.
The true theocracy, however, such as it has actually manifested itself,
does not depend on any particular theory, but, as an immediate power and
authority from God, is regulated by the divine will alone. It would,
therefore, be precipitate, if judging of it, _à priori_, by any
arbitrary principle, we should unconditionally pronounce its recurrence
to be impossible. Generally, the wonder of a theocracy must be judged of
historically in the light in which its own history exhibits it. A mere
theory can lead us to no stable determination regarding it. The
following seems its relation to the natural history of man, or, even, we
may say, to the usual course of external nature. Viewed generally, and
in its principle, whatever is, comes from God, as its first cause. The
permission of evil, however, whether in the realm of nature or of
humanity, when, after their first divine impulse, they are left for a
time to pursue their own course of internal development, is clearly
something of another and peculiar kind. Peculiar, too, are the higher
authorities which exist in the latter, and which are ultimately founded
on a divine law and right, and somewhat different is the case with their
immediate divine operation and miraculous agency. As, therefore, the
course of the world, on the whole, is natural, and whatever transcends
it as a singular or rare exception, does but interrupt the regularity of
the ordinary laws of nature; so, too, the course of universal history,
in ordinary times, is agreeable to man’s nature, as regulated and
modified simply by historical circumstances. At most a few theocratical
junctures, a few eminent moments of a more divine working and
development of power, may be noticed at distant intervals. And these
grand and pregnant epochs, in which all the existing relations of the
world assume a new and unexpected form, are generally, in the first
moment of its triumphant result, or scarcely-hoped-for emancipation,
rightly and thankfully regarded and acknowledged as interventions of a
higher and a divine agency; though, alas, the enthusiasm of man’s
gratitude to God, even when it does take a passing hold on man’s heart,
is wont to evaporate, even more rapidly than any other of his ardent
feelings.
Our own age has afforded a very remarkable instance of this kind. To
this it is sufficient to allude, without entering into any further
disquisition concerning it. But it is not only in such wonderful changes
for good or happy deliverances from the power of evil that these
remarkable divine moments or theocratic junctures announce themselves in
the history of the world. We may even recognize them in every
commencement of a truly new era in history, which, in the favorable
crisis, is suddenly and triumphantly effected by a some higher impulse
and divinely-imparted power. Many instances of the kind might easily be
adduced if this were the proper place for it, or time allowed. The first
triumph of the Cross and Christianity that was public and extended to
the whole world, under Constantine the Great, belongs to this class. As
a second instance, I would mention that beginning of the Christian
Empire in the West under Charlemagne, which was afterward to receive so
happy a development. Superficial inquirers, who judge by the mental
external coloring, are in danger of confounding these creative
beginnings--these turning-points of a higher intervention--with the
ordinary event of a revolution, or the rapid and decisive step of
energetic usurpation. But to the eye of patient observation and deep
penetration they are distinguished from the latter by their profound
historical causes and their attendant circumstances, and by a peculiar
stamp of purity and grandeur. In short, in their essence they are
entirely different.
These observations must have made it evident in what sense I spoke of a
theocracy of science. The power of truth in that good science which is
directed toward God, is in its influence of a lofty and even divine
nature. But it is this simply, in its immediate energy of operation,
without depending on any external sanction, or even form thereof. In the
same way error also, in its evil effects, is most unquestionably, and in
the fullest sense of the term, a power; and that not merely in a
sensuous and materialistic, or relatively to the mind in a purely
negative sense, but a demoniacal power of evil with a most embarrassing
and perverting influence, such as it has been often and in our own times
most undeniably exercised. The great degree in which science actually
manifests itself as a power is not apparent so long as we limit our
consideration to the history of the human intellect in our own circle of
observation and the ordinary sphere of European civilization.
Among the Greeks, for example, rhetoric became the mere slave of an
extremely corrupt government, and followed it in all its disorders.
Poetry, indeed, was the handmaid of the heathen worship and its
religious legends; but still, as being an art and the sport of fantasy,
it moved with a considerable degree of freedom. Accordingly, in the best
and purest and greatest of the poets of antiquity, a profound and
significant symbolism of life lies under, and occasionally appears on,
the surface of their works, which, as considered from a right point of
view and in a liberal spirit, is neither totally repugnant nor directly
opposed to a higher, or even the highest, _i.e._, Christian truth. But
still such notes of a divinely-inspired feeling, which in the
inspiration attains to a clearer perception of the divine nature, is
very far from amounting to the power of an idea, and its actually and
determining influence on life. The philosophy and science of the Greeks,
from its beginning to its close, stood in decided opposition both to the
popular religion and to the state. Accordingly, they either exercised no
influence at all on life, or, at least, no uncontested one. At any rate,
their effects were very trivial. All that can be justly said of the
subject of Grecian science or the ideas of the Greeks applies, with a
slight modification and in a less general sense, to those of the Romans.
The remarks we made above on ancient art and poetry hold good, though in
a somewhat different application, of the romantic portion of the middle
ages, its legends, namely, and poetic fictions. However important the
nobler aim which fancy here pursued to influence morals and life, still
the idea of the power of science can scarcely come in here. As for
science itself, the medieval mind was divided in its pursuit of it. On
one hand there prevailed a strong desire after what was forbidden--or at
least was supposed to be forbidden--the old heathen philosophy; on the
other, as soon as it appeared impossible to get rid of it altogether, an
anxious endeavor to come to an equitable compromise with it, or at least
to make a rationally Christian application of it, and especially of
Aristotle, who, in the judgment of those days, ruled as supreme monarch
over all the sciences. Under these circumstances, and confined by these
chains of authority, it was impossible for Christian science to put
forth its full power and might, or to exercise any material influence on
the age or on life. On the contrary, agreeably with the very principle
of the Christian life, the latter shows itself only in writers like St.
Bernard, who did not belong to the schoolmen. For in the genuine
scholastic philosophy, as having its origin in a perfectly heathen
dialectic, neither the method nor the forms of thought could be purely
Christian.
How great the power of science has shown itself within the last century,
and especially in our own age, is a frequent topic of remark. And at the
same time the fact has not been overlooked, that this power has
gradually assumed a more pernicious direction, or at least has become
involved in a great and violent struggle, which as yet is undecided,
between a destructive tendency of mind and the power of goodness and
truth exerting itself in an effort of restoration. And it is, perhaps,
only to the latter, in its conflict with the evil principle of unbelief
and the denial of all that is divine, that the idea of a theocracy of
science and such a higher power of truth is really applicable. For this
alone seems likely to secure to it the victory in this contest, which,
so far as numbers are concerned, is most unequal.
If, now, we turn our looks to a more distant point, and take into
consideration the older Asiatic nations, though chiefly and in generally
with respect to the religious aspect of their science and scientific
monuments, here, more than elsewhere, we shall meet with much that
corresponds with this idea, and has on its front a strong theocratical
impress and signature. It will, therefore, pre-eminently serve to
elucidate this idea. The whole edifice of scientific thought among the
Hindoos, though in its form of sacred laws, systems, and authentic
commentaries thereon--of history, legends and poetry, it is not less
rich and diversified than the literature and philosophy of the Greeks,
forms, nevertheless, a whole where every part is of one piece and one
mold. In all its manifold forms, it rests and is supported on the same
foundation, which is regarded and venerated as divine. And therein lies
the secret of its incalculable power, to which it owes its unshaken
stability through so many tens of centuries, as well as its great
influence on the whole of Indian life, which has derived from it its
unchanging form and duration, so that we might almost say, Here has
science, or at least this elevated system of thought, become the
animating principle of life and a second nature.
To the many and great errors which are mixed up with the Indian system
of faith and thought, I am not disposed to ascribe this indestructible
principle of vitality and permanent influence on life. At least, if
something must be ascribed to this source, a vast deal more must be
assigned to the influence of the truth that is also contained in it, and
which, though variously adulterated and falsified, still, in its leading
features, has been distinctly preserved from the sacred traditions of
primeval times and the first progenitors of the nation. And yet even
here, in this edifice, otherwise so uniform, many a book and many a
system has been introduced from the opposition, even though the latter
exerted its antagonistic principle far more weakly and far less
pertinaciously here than among the Greeks, or on any other domain of the
European mind. For it was chiefly in the southeastern peninsula that the
founder of that purely intellectual and ideal, but yet demoniacal and
therefore truly anti-Christian sect of philosophy and religion, who
lived about as many centuries before the Christian epoch as Mohammed
after it, and whose followers, numbering nearly a third of the whole
population of the world, spread over the southeast of Asia, and Tartary,
and China, found adherents in India. Still the old and proper India did
not remain totally free from the pernicious tenets of Buddhism, which,
of all religious or philosophical sects and errors, is the most fatal
and destructive that ever has been or ever will be.
Let us now glance at the sacred writings of the Jews, though not,
indeed, in so far as they are to be regarded as the divine law of faith
for that nation, and for all others who should come in the future and
latter times of Christianity (a law, we must observe, which is expressed
in a language so thoroughly individual, and in so national a spirit,
that it often becomes thereby highly obscure and difficult to
understand), nor, indeed, generally in a theological light. For
otherwise the example we have chosen for the illustration of the
theocracy of science would be identical with the matter it was intended
to illustrate. We must here consider it simply as the written record of
the origin and descent of the nation, both in its legal and historical
existence, combining therewith its distant promises and expectations of
the future--in short, as the history, poetry, literature, political
institutions and hopes of this singular people. Viewing it, then, in
this light, merely in its human, national, and historical aspect, its
firm and lasting impression on the Jewish mind, and its indestructible
effects, which survive all the changes of time, form a most remarkable
phenomenon. For by means of it this ancient people, so miraculously
scattered among all the nations of the world, is to this
day--three-and-thirty centuries from the original composition of its
first sacred books--still one, amid all its dispersion, and, we might
almost add, even in spite of its half unbelief in itself.
In modern history, which commences with the second epoch of revelation,
the four holy Gospels, with various didactic epistles, and the great
prophetic book at the close of all, forms the deep focus of
illumination, to which, however, I do not now immediately refer, lest,
as I observed in a former case, the illustration and the illustrated
matter should prove identical. Out of this first germ of light, as it
was carried forward in a living transmission through the first five or
six centuries, was gradually raised an edifice of Christian science and
thought. A new literature was formed in every branch of doctrine or
history, of eloquence or controversy, which, composed in the two
highly-cultivated languages of classical antiquity, has exercised the
greatest possible influence not only on the succeeding generation, but
on all subsequent times. Occasionally, no doubt, and especially in the
earlier centuries, a deviation from, or, rather, opposition to, the
prevailing system, whether as private opinion or positive error,
intruded itself into the midst. Still, notwithstanding these little
discords, scarce perceptible in the entire mass, the whole forms, as a
system of thought, an intellectual power whose effects have been so
great that its authors, or, rather, its spokesmen, have with perfect
justice been styled the Fathers or the earthly creators and founders of
the Church, _i.e._, of this new era and of the truth which is
transmitted in it, without change, indeed, but with a stream which
widens as it flows.
I have chosen all these examples from well-known matters, in order to
direct your attention to the fact that the idea we have advanced of a
theocracy of science, or a divine power of truth therein, does not
depend for its final triumph and the total extinction of error on any
individual force of genius, however great, but on a common and joint
operation of a system of forces--on a vast and comprehensive edifice of
thought, various indeed in its composition and mental character and form
of expression, but still perfectly harmonizing as a whole. One thing,
however, is indispensable--a divine tendency must predominate in it. The
foundation on which it rests and is supported must be divine. The one
ray of light, even though in itself it be ever so pure and bright, and
truly deserve to be termed divine--one stroke of the sword, though ever
so sharply and keenly struck--the one confining limit, though set up and
maintained by ever so comprehensive an intelligence (which term I use to
convey something more than mere _prudence_)--all these will avail
nothing against this new flood of error and infidelity, and of Godless
ideas--thoughts, that is, which are entirely without God, and making no
reference to Him, proceed from impious and demoniacal delusion. Against
the inroad of atheism, which is threatening life on all sides, the
divine might or theocracy of true science can alone furnish a defense.
It can only raise a new ark to save the age from perishing in the flood
of spiritual wickedness. But with this view the most essential point is
the building of a consistent and compact whole, while those who wish to
co-operate in the good work must, like the builder of the ancient ark,
have their regards turned chiefly to the future, looking far beyond the
present, and its minute and frequently most trifling controversies.
This true theocracy of science, resting on a divine tendency in man,
which, though it is inborn, is seldom found pure, and still more rarely
retains its purity to the end, must look to the state to secure its
external stability and unimpeded action. To this end it is necessary,
however, that the state should understand and recognize its own divine
foundation, and look to that heavenly grace and strength which religion
alone vouchsafes to it as the true source of its vitality and
permanence. Individuals can at most do nothing more than co-operate in
bringing about this desirable consummation. They must not attempt to go
beyond the true relation of this co-operative character. The moving
power must come from above; it must proceed from the fountain of all
goodness and all truth.
Philosophically viewed, indeed, science and its divine tendency rests on
the good and genuine aspirations of the human consciousness. And it is
only by the restoration of man’s mind to the perfection in which it
originally came from the Creator’s hands that science can attain to its
perfect state. Now that the consciousness in its present state is
imperfect--or, rather, that as compared with its condition when, in the
first fresh energy of life and in full and unimpeded action, it came
immediately from the Creator, it is no longer uncorrupt, unconfused, or
unimpaired, as it was almost our opening remark, so it has been kept in
view throughout the present series of Lectures. The most natural
conclusion of our labors, therefore, is to consider the possibility of
restoring it to its original divine perfection, as being the only method
which can secure to science a stable foundation and enable its Godward
tendency to attain its proper end.
In a cold, dead, and abstract understanding--in a passionately blind and
absolute will--in a reason which loses itself in dialectical disputes or
amuses itself with dynamical theories, and, consequently, never reaches
its true object--in a fancy which is ever longing after and pursuing its
own imaginations, living on and lost in a dreamy and imaginary world of
its own--in these severally faulty forms of the human consciousness, as
corrupted by the influence of sin, and the consequences of the Fall
(even though the objects of this vitiated thought and will may, in
themselves, appear perfectly innocent, indifferent, unselfish, and even
intellectual), lies the original fountain of all perverted and deadly
thinking. The soul, in the center of this fourfold source of false
cogitation and false volition, is torn and distracted many ways,
impeded, and, as it were, crippled and deadened. But still it remains
eternal and immortal. Accordingly, the soul must be the point from which
the restoration and reawakening of life must proceed. But this
restoration of the human consciousness to perfection is to be called
divine, on this account, because it can only be reached by the soul
attaching itself exclusively to what we formerly called the second new
and divine starting-point of human existence. For the more that the
soul, created for immortality and loving, and in love embracing that
which is in itself immortal, adopts this great and new word for man,
this second beginning in God, and is impregnated with it, in the same
degree do reason and fancy cease to be at issue with each other and to
be independent, isolated, and clashing faculties; and, finally, they
become altogether merged in the one thinking and loving soul. Then, too,
does the soul cease to be dead, cold, and abstract, and becomes,
instead, a living and wakeful spirit, _i.e._, one which in its new life
works freely and energetically. And the will, too, is no longer blind,
no longer passionately absolute; but, restored to sight, becomes one
with the internal sense, as the third member of the human consciousness.
And by this union the will is, as it were, fully armed and equipped. For
the external sense, which hitherto has been thoroughly passive, as soon
as the will is restored to sight, assumes by its means an active and
living operation; and the inner moral sense, which before was merely
subjective, acquires a power of external discernment.
This is the end of perfection. And it is only on this road of a divine
restoration of the human consciousness, according to its established law
of progress, that the divine tendency of science can attain to
perfection. With the attainment of this end an entirely new era will
commence. But the intricacy of the problem which our own age has to
solve arises simply from this circumstance, that a truly new era and a
false one are engaged in mortal conflict. The former can only spring up
and flourish when the latter decays and is got rid of. To this end the
present false spirit of the age, which is but a perversion of the true
cosmopolitan spirit, must die the death. And this must be brought to
pass by the sword of the Word or of eternal truth, which pierces even to
the joints and marrow, and divides asunder soul and spirit. For the
immortal, God-created, and God-devoted soul requires to be separated and
detached from the so-called spirit of the age, which is mixed up and
compounded of so many dim, false, imperfect, and evil spirits. And the
spirit of the age must itself be entirely converted and be brought to a
knowledge and open confession of its error, and when once whatever in it
is totally dead has been adjudged to eternal death, it will itself be
renovated and purified in the fiery floods of the truly new times.
In this divine restoration, however, of the human consciousness, or
theocracy, man’s part must be wholly passive. It is enough if he does
not hinder or retard it; for in a certain sense he can at least
co-operate in bringing it to pass. Even that final consummation toward
which that true new era, which as yet is entirely hidden and, as it
were, choked by the false, longs and yearns--that peace of God, of which
the highest and best religious peace is but a foreboding symbol, and, as
it were, the first weak grade, or step, can not be brought about by
human art and power. It is not by any diplomatic courtesy, which in this
case would be highly culpable--not by any amalgamation, which in the
present sphere is contradictory to every notion of right, that that
peace can be brought about, in which, according to no vain or unmeaning
promise, there is to be one fold and one Shepherd. Its accomplishment
must be reserved entirely to Him who, from all eternity has been, and
still is, the good Shepherd of all His creatures.
Here, then, at this point, having, by means of the idea of a restoration
of the human consciousness to its original divine perfection, arrived at
a close, I will pause a few moments to take once more a rapid survey of,
and to throw a clearer light on, my past labors. And herein I shall
purposely refer to the division of philosophy, and the designations of
its several parts usually given in the schools. The first five Lectures
treated of the human soul in the wide extent of its original relation,
not only to life but also to nature and to God, and formed consequently
of psychology, though in a wider sense than the science which is usually
occupied with this subject. The three next, as discussing the divine
order of things, contained a species of natural theology, though treated
of in a perfectly living method and relation, and entering historically
into individual, no less than universal, life. Of the last seven
Lectures the first three were devoted to the investigation of truth. We
here examined its fundamental principle of the unity of the highest
science and divine faith, the discrimination of truth in the struggle
between faith and skepticism, and the final conclusion in the unity of
this higher science and faith with the true life and its influence
therein. This higher logic, in so far as it considers the true essence
of things, might even be designated an ontology. And, indeed, since it
derives every thing from a divine principle, it might not inaptly be
called an applied or mixed theology, in the same sense as this
designation is employed in the mathematical sciences, viz., as the first
part of such an applied theology. In this sense the second part thereof
would be formed by the metaphysics of life, as the science of that which
is above nature, whose province it is to indicate all higher and
supernatural principles in the whole sphere of existence and the actual
world, so far as it is given to man to know them. Employing the old
phraseology and division of the schools, we might term this a cosmology,
in a moral and intellectual sense, and with a regard to what human
philosophy can attain to. The symbolical energy of the divine
communication in religion, the divine foundation of the state, the
Godward tendency of science, and the restoration of the consciousness by
God, form, as it were, the four poles or summits of all these
principles, which transcend and overpass the merely natural.
Concerning the accomplishment of perfection in man’s divinely-restored
consciousness, and also in the whole of existence, or in nature itself,
a few words yet remain to be added. And thus this last section,
considered as a cosmology, is based on a divine principle, so far as
this is attainable by man.
Now, the first consequence of the perfection of the human consciousness,
as accomplished by God, will be the restoration of the divine image and
likeness in man. The soul, now purified and made complete again, becomes
once more spiritually fruitful, and in this internal productiveness,
which even the pure spirits do not possess, is rendered similar, though
at an infinite distance and in a very secondary sense, to the Creator in
His productive energy. The livingly operative spirit in the creature is
like to that in the being who is increate and from all eternity, while
the livingly active sense, as the third member or element in the
perfected consciousness, is similar and correspondent to the divine
operating word. And lastly, in this livingly quickened and completely
restored consciousness, man reassumes his original true and distinct
relation to nature. By the soul, first of all, he is reunited to God; in
his spirit, now restored to true life, he enters into a living and
clear communion with all other kindred spirits; and by his will, now
clearly seeing and working in God, he assumes once more his original
relation to nature as her first-born son and her legitimate lord.
But nature, as the creature that groaneth and travaileth in pain
together, waiteth in earnest expectation for its perfection and
restoration. And this is the only view of it that is either founded in
truth or really Christian. And in this idea of creation groaning and
travailing in pain lies a fullness of prophetic intimations for nature.
While she seems on the whole to be deeply slumbering, this alone excites
a hope of a great and general awakening; whereas it is scarcely a
generation and a half, or two at most, since physical science first
began to awaken out of the grave of its own dead notions, when in nature
itself, no less than in the science of it, all seemed sunk in death.
We need not, therefore, be surprised if this Christian view of nature
and a dynamical physiology evince so little of agreement. For the latter
invariably regards the system of nature as something absolute and as
perfect and complete in itself; but this it evidently is not. And indeed
many an eloquent theological essay on the proofs of design in nature and
on its indications of the goodness of the Creator, sets out on a
similarly defective hypothesis, that nature, in its present condition,
is exactly the same as God originally created it. But this is directly
contradicted by the promise so expressly and distinctly made to the last
times, of “new heavens and a new earth.” For this not merely implies,
but rather asserts, that nature stands in need of a grand renovation,
which it transcends the ordinary course of its proper powers of
development to accomplish, and which, consequently, is only conceivable
as brought about by the immediate operation of divine power, or of a
celestial theocracy for this purpose, in the time of the universal
regeneration.
We are far more ready and disposed to assign to the powers of evil a
greater influence and a wider field of operation in the world of man
than in the system of nature. But it is, perhaps, more conformable to
truth to see in the present condition of the latter a state of truce
with the evil and destructive powers which formerly raged more
fiercely--an interval during which the conflict is confined within
certain limits, rather than as a complete and perfect peace. Its
external influences, as they affect man, must not be taken for the
standard in this case; for they may be merely accidental; just as the
ordinary inundations belong to the economy of the balance of the
elementary forces of nature, and as the storms and tempests, which
occasionally are fearfully destructive, are, nevertheless, it is clear,
a process necessary for the purification and salubrity of the
atmosphere. But, on the other hand, many facts of medical experience and
peculiar phenomena of disease, or even births of faulty or defective
organization--as well as the lothsome generation of insects in the
atmosphere or on the surface of the earth, and many diseased states in
both--when viewed simply and elementarily, and apart from the usual
principle of epidemic contagion, appear to point rather to some
intrinsical evil and originally wild demoniacal character in the sphere
of nature, even though they only occur as exceptions to these general
laws. How deadly even sidereal influences may prove is at least
established by the fact of lunacy. In those fields of celestial light,
too, and those brilliant hosts of heaven, which, as nature’s more
retiring and lovelier charms, become visible only by night, and display
themselves to the calm and tranquil soul, all is not in such perfect
unison and harmony as the first impression would lead us to suppose. A
note of discord arises from the irregular orbits of those eccentrically
revolving stars, which, though rare in their appearance, seem to be
pretty numerous--exercising either a watery or an arid influence on the
terrestrial atmosphere, and whose paths astronomy has indeed calculated,
though her calculations have not always been verified. All our
knowledge, too, and recorded observations of the rest of nature, _i.e._,
in this sense of the earth itself, does not go beyond the
surface--consequently to only one portion of it; and yet perhaps that
internal part, which is hidden from us, is the very one that is most
deeply significant, and more nearly akin to the eternal. Nature, in her
interior and reality, may perhaps possess little resemblance to what we
see of her externally. At every step we stumble on some new proof of our
ignorance, and much also that gives an intimation of a new and unknown
world.
Nature in general may, for us, be compared to a towering pyramid of
hieroglyphics heaped together at random, from which, with our utmost
pains, we can scarcely succeed in bringing together and deciphering two
or three at most, while we have not the key for interpreting the
meaning and order of the whole; for we must not, as under a very
erroneous idea is often done, seek this in nature itself, but entirely
in its divine principle; for in this must all that is unintelligible
find its solution. Now, in that one part of nature which we are best
acquainted with, its surface--after that law of sexual distinction which
reigns not only in the animal but also in the vegetable world, and
which, moreover, in a certain sense prevails in the very atmosphere and
its elementary organs of life--no other law of nature is so universal as
that of death. But if it be true that through that spirit and power of
evil who first revolted from God, death came into the world, and also
into nature, then must the earthly and now natural death have proceeded
from the author of eternal death.
Very questionable, in this case, would it appear to be, whether the
first and original creations of nature were other than immortal. If He
whose essence is omnipotence thinks hieroglyphics, then are they living
creatures; and can we, judging of Him in Himself, and His proper nature,
suppose that He would conceive of or create aught else than what is
eternal and immortal? The old curse still hangs over nature, wherein the
first author and inventor of death has contrived to root himself so
deeply. And that malediction was not removed by the first man; on the
contrary, it was deepened and confirmed by him. And even at the divine
renewal of the human race, the same anathema was again pronounced upon
the natural tree of an earthly life, condemning it to wither still more
and more under the baneful dominion of death. The victory over death is
only to be gained together with the perfection of man. And then shall
follow a theocracy and divine renovation of nature, under which all that
is therein shall again become immortal. A perfect harmony shall thereby
be restored to the whole of creation.