the constitution is in a republic almost as sacred, as in a monarchy the person called and consecrated to the functions of government by divine right. But more than this we should not say—namely, that the Christian government, founded as it is on personality and on sentiment, inclines on the whole strongly towards the monarchical form—a leaning which is by no means incompatible with many Republican usages and Republican Institutions of a subordinate kind. Still less should we exaggerate this idea so far, as to maintain that the Christian government is entirely and necessarily monarchical, even in its outward form; and that a Republic is objectionable at all times and under all circumstances without distinction. Such absolutism in the doctrines of public law, and in the theory of government, is very remote from true Christian principles. The unhistorical government of mere Reason—the destructive principle of revolution—is indeed totally incompatible with Christianity; principally because the Christian religion tolerates and recognizes all legal institutions, such as they are, without enquiring into their origin; (as the gospel not only left inviolate, but even respected the legality of the Roman dominion in the conquered and incorporated countries;) and also because the Christian notion of right, like the Christian system of government, is by no means absolute, but is ever qualified by circumstances. A Republican government, which is founded not so much on the

abstract or rationalist principle of absolute freedom and equality, but on ancient customs and hereditary rights, on freedom of sentiment and generosity of character, consequently on personality, is by no means essentially opposed to the true spirit of monarchy; still less is it inconsistent with the Christian theory of government. But a despotism, illegitimate not perhaps in its origin, but in its abuse of power, strikes at the first principles of the Christian state, whose mild, temperate, and historical character is as abhorrent from absolutism, as from the opposite principle of unqualified freedom and universal equality—the revolutionary principle, which involves the overthrow of all existing rights.

As in the Christian’s estimation, the worth and excellence of an individual is not to be judged by his outward appearance or by the observance of certain forms, but by the sincerity of his inward sentiments; so the same observation will apply to states. It is the spirit and purpose of an action, the nature of a deed, the personal conduct displayed in a public measure; and not any outward form, which proves or determines the good or evil tendency of any important act, which may be the subject of history. That Christian tone and spirit which belongs to the government of the illustrious, but not immaculate Charlemagne, does not proceed from the circumstance, that he, like Alfred after him, solicited the counsels and co-operation of his Bishops in framing laws for the various provinces

of his empire, (for many of these laws contained moral injunctions,) or that at Rome the Pope placed the Imperial crown upon his head. But the Christian spirit of his government is evinced by that lofty idea which filled up the whole of his active life—by his conception of the relations of church and state, and of the utility of science for the civilization of nations—by his project of an universal empire destined to embrace and protect all civilized nations—the noble fabric of modern Christendom, of which he laid the first foundation-stone, and which reveals his enlarged views, comprehending alike his own age and succeeding times.

But whenever we meet in history with a government which independently of outward forms, is founded on the love of divine justice—on a principle of self-devotion whereby rulers are ready to sacrifice their own interest and even their own existence in the cause of justice and of social order—these, we may be sure are the certain and indubitable marks of the realization of the Christian theory of law and government. On the other hand, wherever we perceive despotism or violence, or what we feel to be absolute wrong, though they be veiled under the sanction of spiritual or temporal power, then we may be sure the whole enterprise is unchristian, as the principle is unchristian. Of all the different forms of this political disease, of the manifold kinds of tyranny, whether ecclesiastical or secular, military or commercial,

domestic or municipal, academic or aristocratic, the despotism of popular licentiousness is the most reprehensible in principle, and the most destructive in its effects.

With the usages and institutions of the Germanic nations, this peculiar temper of the Christian religion perfectly harmonized; incomparably better at least, than with the arbitrary government of the Roman state, which even after the conversion of Constantine, still retained in all essential points a Pagan character. In the old German states, the system of hereditary monarchy mostly prevailed;—but it was quite alien from absolutism, and was intermixed with many Republican institutions, laws, and customs. The whole system of those governments was founded on the historical basis of ancient usages—on the pure, free and generous sentiment of honour—on personal glory and personal character and talents. As soon as this natural moral energy of the Germanic nations had received a religious consecration from Christianity, and those energetic, heroic souls had imbibed with fervour, simplicity, and humility, the maxims of the religion of love; all the elements of a truly Christian government, and Christian system of policy were then offered to mankind. The political history of those ancient times has been mostly represented in a too systematic point of view, for the purpose of favouring some particular object, or interest, or some favourite opinion of modern times; since

historians employ all their ingenuity in tracing step by step, and disclosing to our view the first rise and gradual growth of any particular form of government, or principle of right—such as the establishment of royalty on the one hand, and that of the constitution of the three orders on the other. But they remain quite unconcerned about every more exalted principle in society. To judge and appreciate not according to the standard of our own or any other age, but according to the dictates of eternal truth, the manners, the modes of thinking, the tone of society, the spirit and views which animated men, whatever was good or evil, christian or anti-christian in their sentiments, is with these writers a matter of the utmost indifference. If there is any exception from the truth of this remark, it is when they meet with some singular trait of manners or character—some historical paradox calculated to stimulate interest, and which they then never fail to sever from its general connexion with the age, to tear up from its natural roots, and exhibit to the curiosity of the beholder. And yet in such individual traits of character in the middle age, though they be at first remarked only from their singularity, and be not even fully understood, more traces of historical life and truth are to be found, than in those systematic representations of history, drawn up with some specific political view, and which aim at an elaborate dissection and violent disrupture of institutions, which in those

early times, were inseparably united in the life of Christian nations. If the best and most praiseworthy measures adopted in that first period of Christian polity, for the settlement and further improvement of the Christian state, and for the establishment and application of christian maxims and principles of government, were nothing more but a generous effort, a good intention, a rude design—a feeble, imperfect approximation towards a divine term—yet we must consider them as peculiar historical phenomena, leave them in their individual bearings, and not prematurely force them into any systematic connexion, or attach them to any fixed or formal principle of right; for in the Christian government, feeling and personality are the most essential things.

If I could overstep the narrow limits of this work, confined as it is to a rapid sketch of the main and essential facts in the historical progress of mankind, I should prefer to draw a portrait of the mode of government and prevalent opinions of that age, out of the many characteristic traits in the lives of its distinguished rulers, its great and virtuous kings and emperors, knights and heroes:—such as that Charlemagne, who would rightly open the series, that pious King Alfred, who in a far more contracted sphere, was equally great, those first Saxon Kings and Emperors of Germany—princes distinguished for their religious and virtuous sentiments, their great and upright character, and