Chapter XVI: Preface (15)

In all probability our own deeply-agitated times, which assuredly deserve not to be called unfruitful, even though, together with the good fruit, they may also produce many a false blossom, give birth to much that is new indeed, but which is, nevertheless, or at least may eventually become, historical. The phenomena of the present, therefore, demand our most careful consideration, lest any negligence in this case should inevitably involve us in disaster, and bring on us a natural historical retribution. An exclusive and narrow aristocracy, or, if we must say so, one senselessly insisting on its privileges, such as in the earlier part of the last century was probably to be met with in a few countries, is, to the true friend of the ancient order of things, the most painful phenomenon. It is its own greatest enemy--since, by an historical law of antagonism and reaction, one extreme inevitably calls forth the other sooner or later. Hereditary monarchy, as it is the oldest form of polity in history, so, if it is maintained in the mild and moderate spirit of the Christian state, is likely to survive all others, and to be the last in force among the human race; for a state which is founded and established on the Christian principle of an equitable distinction and division of ranks, must, in every calm and unprejudiced judgment, deserve the preference over the artificial constitution of a dynamical balance of powers; for the necessary equipoise is liable to be disturbed by the restless agitation to which the latter form of polity is exposed. And it is only, therefore, in comparison with an absolute despotism that the dynamical theory can appear desirable and win so many adherents, while the former, on the other hand, as the only remedy for popular anarchy, if administered with talent and energy, becomes not only tolerable, but acquires even an historical justification.

Each of these two extremes, the absolute and the dynamical, admit, however, of a wider application than merely to single states and their different forms, according to the fluctuation of the times between prosperity and adversity. For the entire system of Christian states throughout the civilized world may in their mutual relations and confederations depend principally on the absolute preponderance of some leading power which holds the others in subjection or rules them. But this is an authority which all are ready to throw off, and is never willingly acknowledged or submitted to. Or, perhaps, the whole political world may, on the dynamical theory, be based on the balance of power, each state being held in check by the rest. This was the reigning system of the eighteenth century, and at its first foundation was admired as the perfection of a wise policy. In experience, however, it has proved inadequate and practically untenable. The only case where it seems to admit of application is that of a division embracing the whole globe, but based on geographical relations; but even in such a case it could only serve to check mutual injury, and not to promote any salutary end.

In the middle ages, as soon as the German Empire, having fallen from its original purity, had become totally false to its Christian principle, it found, according to the spirit of the times, a salutary check and counterpoise in the Church. And that iron character of the Ghibellines, which was exhibited no less strikingly in individuals and morals than in politics and counsels of state, affords the best justification for this antagonism, as well as for the opposite great party of the Guelphs, with their milder bearing and sentiments.

But now that this ancient division and conflict of the spiritual and the temporal powers is in these enlightened times a bygone thing, and in the older sense is extinct forever--since it seems mankind can not do without antagonism of some kind, we have, instead of it, an elementary one between land and water. A political schism variously manifests itself between the ocean and the continent. In fact, that great Island Kingdom which traverses and rules the ocean, and by founding colonies and settlements wherever it listeth or thinketh profitable, puts forth, as it were, the feelers of universal dominion, is properly an empire of the sea. For in contradistinction from a kingdom we may call every monarchy an empire which comprises in itself several other peoples and nations of divers races and political constitutions. In such a sense we have contrasted this maritime empire with the Continent. But although experience has shown the possibility of such a division of the whole world and political alienation of the two elements of land and water throughout the globe, it has also established a conviction that though these two divisions might do incalculable injury and mischief to each other, no permanent or decided supremacy of either would follow, inasmuch as a medium for maintaining the dependence of either is wanting. And as it is only in some urgent need of the times to find some counterpoise to absolute power, or an apprehension of it, that a dynamical state or the tendency to it finds its justification, so it was only during the transient reign of a despotic lust of conquest, and as a check to it, that this maritime power could have risen so high as it has in the opinion of the Continental states.

Since then, however, the great powers of Europe have had a different interest to pursue, and their political counsels have been directed to the preservation of peace rather than to selfish aggrandizement. For they have all had to contend with a common enemy in the restless spirit of the age, which is yet very far from being conquered and subdued. If, then, an absolute preponderance of a single state is hateful to all, and a dynamical balance of power in the general state-system is either inadequate for such an end, or else does not admit of application, is it not at least conceivable that a higher principle of Christian justice might be substituted for these which are equally defective? Might not a common point of moral unity be found and established for the European states? Must this sublime idea ever be nothing more than the noble enthusiasm of a magnanimous character? And is it to be regarded as impossible merely because it is imbedded in difficulties? But is not all that is great also difficult? Still, inasmuch as this exalted political unity must have a purely spiritual basis in the sentiments of men, a precipitate or violent attempt to bring it about must inevitably miscarry. It would not only militate against, but also corrupt the original purity of the very idea. It must be universally recognized before it can, in the contest with the evil principle of the day, become a salutary power of good, or furnish for the political relations a general basis of Christian justice. The one extreme of political Europe, with its absolute polity, which moreover has fallen very low from its former preponderance, seems excluded by the very nature of things from the idea of such a unity. But if it be true that it is gradually becoming more and more European, a character in which, until very lately, it has rarely been regarded, then a modified kind of subordinate connection with such a general principle of association among European states, does not seem necessarily inadmissible or inconsistent. The other extreme of Europe, with its dynamical constitution, had, in an opposition, moderate indeed in form and conditionally, more than half renounced this idea. In the opinion, however, of many competent judges, this renunciation is much more decided, and must exercise a great and unfavorable effect on the harmony of the whole. The moral want of our age, judged by this or some similar idea, is the necessity which was so keenly felt upon its deliverance from the general yoke of a military aggression, of a moral and intrinsic regeneration of Europe. And this unity is not to be derived from and set up merely in science, but must be felt as a living energy in life itself. But how is such an inner restoration to be brought about and effected in Christian states, but by a complete renewal and invigoration of their religious foundation? And inasmuch as this want actually exists and is felt, the problem which is to supply it must be regarded as an historical one; and consequently the historical development of the times--abstracted from the accidental form of the first essays at its solution--will sooner or later carry us to all that is most essential in the idea.

Formerly, in the medieval times, the German Empire claimed to be this Christian center of unity for the states of Europe--although, in truth, it was far from embracing the whole system of European states. Latterly, in the new political theory, the mutual relation of nations has become gradually republican. And this new form has consequently been accompanied with imperfections and difficulties and almost inextricable perplexities. Is it, then, probable that in the commencing or recently-commenced era of history, a firm, compact, but vast corporation of states, founded on a principle of Christian justice, can be substituted for and gradually evolved out of the two previous ones, which are now found wholly inadequate for the ends they were designed to meet? As a mere historical probability we may well allow this idea to stand.

Totally different from those idle speculations of an endless peace, which, for the sake of mere intellectual amusement and discussion, philosophy was used to advance in the schools, is this thoroughly-practical thought of a confederation of states based on the principle of Christian justice and vitally connected with religion as the most general center of humanity. And the latter must be regarded as the essential condition of its internal consistency and permanence. At least we may safely advance the following as the result of a philosophical consideration of history. An exalted and universal religious peace of this kind, and proceeding from such a principle, in which, by a peaceful approximation, not only the two parties in the faith should be reconciled and finally united, but also the spiritual and the secular powers, the Church and the State, should be allied together in the profoundest harmony, is, properly speaking, the very thing which mankind most stands in need of. But this desirable result never can and never will be attained until all shall be united in pervading harmony with religion and with life, especially with public life or the state, so that all these three principles or fundamental elements of human existence may work together with one aim and purpose. Such a state of profound internal peace would be something more than a simple political peace, with its transient blessings. It would be a sacred peace of God and the higher spirits, or at least the precursor and the best initiation thereto. This, however, is not to be effected by diplomatic skill no more than by scientific hypotheses. It can only be brought about by the immediate operation of God, and by that divine energy which from the beginning has sustained and still sustains the system of the universe. Philosophy, accordingly, must content itself with pointing to this end and this sustaining power, and also with calling attention to all the traces historically furnished which tend in the same direction. And since the great conflict of the age draws all powers into its vortex more violently than ever, it may be allowed to be sufficient for us to have hazarded a glance toward this glorious consummation; and we now will turn our attention to the development of intellect and intellectual powers as at present involved in the as yet undecided conflict. Thus much at least must be clear, that if science, religion, and the state, and the several powers, parties, and influences belonging to each of these domains, is, as hitherto, to pursue each its own way in opposition to the rest, then will all hasten again with rapid strides into a state of chaotic confusion. It may, therefore, well be permitted us to endeavor to hold up before men, in as strong a light as possible, this better hope, and to furnish them with every possible confirmation of it both from science and history.

If our age be as yet far from healthy--if it be still in a sickly state, if the first fearful crisis has not totally expelled the diseased matter--if, on the contrary, the general European body in many of its members is still infected with the virus which has penetrated into the inmost and secret marrow of life--if the source of the malady lie in false ideas, or the total absence of right ones, or, in other words, in philosophical error, which has spread in indefinite vagueness and endless hair-splitting over the whole of public and private life, and in a skepticism no less political than religious--then, since the external refutation rarely avails any thing, our first object must be intrinsically to conquer and to banish this error by truth, and the spirit of truth in that higher science which is genuine and lawful and directs itself to divine things.

The restless anarchical spirit of the times, or the perverted absolute spirit--for they are essentially one and the same, is yet a spirit--it may be a superficial, shallow, sensual, and negative one, but still a spirit, and therefore can not be overcome by any mere negation, but on the contrary only struggles against it with renewed bitterness and consequently more vigorous resistance. As opposed to the divine spirit of truth, however, it appears an unsubstantial nullity, and soon vanishes into its own vanity.

A direct controversy with error entails one disadvantage. By such a course the latter is unduly acknowledged for a positive power of evil. But in reality it only becomes so conditionally, through the atomistic splitting and diffusion of false ideas, and by the mass of its followers, when once every thing is resolved into elementary decomposition. Moreover, one extreme of exaggeration, whenever in controversy we enter into it and get involved in it, easily introduces its opposite, which then again is on its side carried too far--or which even, though strictly and literally it be right enough, is yet asserted with too little of limitation, and applied with unsalutary rigor. It is, therefore, a lamentable mistake if men of great and deserving talents, who from a scientific point of view have devoted themselves to the great task of morally regenerating the age, have adopted a too decidedly polemical tendency. For it is partly through exclusively following such a course that their influence for good has been so narrow and limited, and has not met with a more general and more unqualified success.

If men would only, first and before all things, endeavor to set forth with all possible vividness the intrinsic unity which subsists between higher science with a divine faith, and develop it for its own sake, without passion or interest, the further results on life of applied truth would follow spontaneously. From this simple and pure source they would continue to flow in ample and widening streams over the whole domain and all its relations. God is truth, and simply on this account the spirit of truth in a good and true science must even be divine. Its proper aim is, accordingly, directed to the divine; and on this account there can not be such a thing as an indifferent science. For every science which is not directed to the divine is shallow, superficial, sensuously negative, and idly rationalizing. On this account it is false, and must consequently prove, in its external effects, nothing less than evil, injurious, and destructive.

It is in regard to all this that I have classed science, together with religion and a Christianly-regulated state, as the third power of good. Although merely intellectual [_geistige_,] it is of great moment in the conflict which all have to wage against the destructive principles which so fearfully menace our age. The power of science, it is true, can only produce an effect in an intellectual sphere, but this intellectual sphere is of itself of great influence on every other circle of human operation. Religion has for its immediate object the soul and its salvation, or its union with God; and this is its peculiar region; but still it comes in various ways in contact with the higher science, and penetrates deeply into actual and also into public life. But it is the state, as the organic form of the latter, by which the divine as law, and as a higher idea of justice, modified and completed with that of clemency and equity, is first introduced into reality of actual and corporeal existence, and this historical and sensible world. But the state itself has no other than a religious foundation. It is built upon religion, but also requires the support of science.

By the visible relation, and that parallel similitude which spontaneously suggests itself between these three great moral powers in public life--philosophy, religion, and government--and that original triple principle of the human consciousness, as consisting of body, soul, and spirit, as the simple but fundamental idea of Christian philosophy (however the latter may insist on this basis in confirmation of its utility in living application), we do not for one moment mean to maintain, or propose, a total separation or estrangement of these three spheres. This would be quite unnatural. For in a political, as well as in a psychological sense, these three primary principles must co-operate and be intimately blended together to produce a complete and perfect result in the sphere of any one individually.

If, as we are perfectly justified, we have been considering science, at least that which is true and divine, as a power of a higher kind, we must still remember that it is not so in the same way as religion or government. The latter rests on a divine foundation of eternal justice; and therein lies the source of its vital efficacy. Religion is the legitimate form of a living dispensation of the divine strength and grace. True science is the mind’s lofty pursuit, in a Godward direction, of perfect knowledge; and this direction forms the characteristic distinction between it and false science. In the state, in like manner, its loftiest character lies in the sacred foundation of justice. It is, therefore, a very wrongful and a most pernicious error to look for the inmost essence of the state, or the true source of political prosperity, in any external form or formula. For this external form is in many cases nothing but the shape in which the national mind displays itself--the theater which it erects for its political manifestations. But, in another point of view, also, the form of the state is subordinate to the essence and its foundation of right. In the legitimate state, an hereditary monarchy, _i.e._, the act of crowning, is, no doubt, a very beautiful, highly significant, and, indeed, an essential sacred right. But, with the exception of certain special cases and positive institutions in some existing constitutions, the monarch’s right is not dependent thereon, but even before the anointing he is truly and fully a sovereign. Far different is the case, however, where the political authority is only delegated and vicarious, as with an ambassador or a plenipotentiary deputed to negotiate a peace, or other treaty. For in such cases there is no authority but what is derived solely and entirely from the delegating source, and on the legal act by which the right or power was delegated. Without this, it is absolutely null and void. This remark extends to every case and every sphere of legitimate transference of a higher authority, even though the latter be of a divine origin. And it is simply on this account that in religion, as the proper sphere for the dispensing of divine strength and grace, the form is so highly important and so thoroughly essential--even as much so as the matter itself--or the imparted light of the spirit, and properly is inseparable from it.

The position of science is quite different. For this rests on what is thoroughly human and inborn in man--the passion of longing; which, however, if it be maintained in its purity and perseveringly carried out, may, without doubt, pass over into a divine pursuit. Even the form of communication in science is human throughout, since it employs language as the intellectual medium for setting forth the truth. If, then, in this higher tendency, the full center of living and divine truth be attained, according to man’s utmost powers and ability, then, even here, a higher and divine power may, undoubtedly, intervene and co-operate therewith. But still, for such a case, no strictly-defined form, or external sanction and consecration, exists, and from the very essence of the thing, it is not to be looked for. That which is divine in science must, from its nature, move freely, and be devoid of all such forms. As a higher power, it must operate immediately, and must seek to establish its own law for itself, intermediate between religion and the state, or even in each of them alike, though still in a peculiar way of its own. Wherever it is genuine and unadulterated, then it will in no case come into collision with the actual laws either of one or of the other, even because truth is one and every where the same. But if science, in its external form, and in its social and political existence, should become entirely blended with religion and the spiritual class, being confined and restricted thereto, as was the case with the institution of castes among the Hindoos, which we have already noticed, and with the Egyptian priesthood, then we must fain admit that freedom, which the scientific spirit requires for its growth and development in the sphere assigned to it, would be too closely limited and checked by narrow and partial considerations. But if, on the other hand, it be possible for a false science to arrogate that spiritual and divine right of free action, which, unquestionably, is in a certain sense the prerogative of heavenly truth in its invisible kingdom, which the latter can neither misemploy, nor ever impede in its course, then such a supposition would account for the prevalence of error. It would also, at the same time, serve to illustrate the mode by which such a prejudice as the arrogated right of an unrestricted freedom of thought, or, rather, of the free and unchecked communication thereof, could ever have struck so deep a root in the human mind. But this is a claim which we can in no way recognize, or allow, as really founded in right and justice. Since, wherever, as is the case in this sphere of purely intellectual operation, all is immediate and without a definite form of external sanction, there any thing like right must at most be indefinite and individual.

It forms, perhaps, one of the most important problems or questions of our day, whether the entire sphere of science, the whole republic of letters--not only the mere elementary instruction of the schools, but the whole domain of education in general, embracing under the latter description literature and the fine arts--might not, in obedience to the requisitions of the age, be brought into a more organized and well-regulated form. For if this were possible, it might be made to approximate more closely to the other great spheres of public life in religion and the state, and confined within its proper limits, according to some greater and more comprehensive ideas than those current among us, or than those which have come down to us from antiquity, which are either defective in themselves, or else are no longer adapted to existing circumstances. Those which the present age has advanced, are, for the most part, crude and ill-digested, and scarcely ever consistently carried out. But, after having reflected for many a long year on this question, so deeply interesting to myself, I have arrived at the conviction that, for the present at least, a radical change in this department would be premature and scarcely desirable, as promising to afford no very advantageous results. Every thing in this sphere is too isolated; whatever is good, and especially what is best, is too individual and too formless to allow of its being as yet, without great difficulty, reduced in all parts and in every point to a firm rule and definite shape. In all probability, by attempting unseasonably to introduce organic order and law, we should cramp rather than assist and develop the good. In the present chaotic state of science, it is only the vicious and profane that possesses a systematic coherence. All detrimental and dangerous, as well as futile and indifferent ideas, mixed with a few good and useful ones, are atomistically diffused and spread in every possible shape and quarter. And if against this boundless dissemination of evil thoughts--this elementary decomposition and chemical analysis of the human mind, and the whole body of human thoughts, a negative barrier be set up as a preventive measure of defense, and as a temporary substitute for a better and higher state of things, murmurs and reproaches immediately rise from all sides. But, taken on the whole, and in so far as principle is involved, these remonstrances are neither just nor well founded. For in almost every state where, owing to peculiar circumstances, such precautionary measures have not been taken, the most dangerous disorders and jarring discords have affected the whole of public life, as the inevitable consequences of its absence.

But let us turn our eyes from the insignificant controversies, with its host of ephemeral publications, the interest of which seems little likely to outlive even that of a daily journal, and let us look to the greater and more historical phenomena amid them, which, in all probability, will mark an epoch in the development of mind. From these it is distinctly apparent that science is a real and actual power. In proof of this fact, we need only appeal to the great talents and abilities which, not only in recent years, but also throughout the last century, have exercised in the domain of science what, without exaggeration, we may well term a world-embracing influence. Only we must admit that in this period they have taken more or less a destructive tendency, and one that threatened in this scientific burrowing to undermine the foundations of everlasting truth. But if we will take a still wider survey, so as to embrace all the several periods of the world’s history, and the course of the human mind therein, then, undoubtedly, we may discern the higher might of divine truth, manifesting itself as an influence for good, as a pure and genuine spiritual theocracy of science, to whose domain above all others the idea of an immediate and higher supremacy of mind and divine power is peculiarly applicable.

LECTURE XV.

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.