The Christian view, then, of the world, and of the state, as we have already remarked, does not exclude or reject any form of political existence. On the contrary, it recognizes whatever possesses an historical cause and foundation, and allows it to stand in its proper place, and in its true and original significance and rights. Accordingly, it admits the validity as such even of the dynamical form of polity, even though it feels it impossible to agree with partial and enthusiastic admirers in considering it as perfect. Nay, it does not reject even an absolute despotism, notwithstanding that it sees clearly enough all its imperfections and great inferiority. It is only by a complete view of history that their existence can be explained and understood. And in this they will appear either as a necessary evil in its mildest form, i.e., as the less pernicious and dangerous, under existing circumstances, or as a remedy for some more fearful disorder, by which alone the social frame can be restored to a more healthy condition.
The usual transition and natural issue of popular anarchy, when it has lasted long enough to exhaust its own fearful violence, is a perpetual dictatorship or despotism in some shape or other, but devoid of a higher and diviner sanction. This form of government, or (since, strictly speaking, it is not a form) this political condition, must be carefully distinguished from a long-established, legitimate, and hereditary monarchy, with which its whole character has nothing in common. No doubt when the revolutionary evil has reached its greatest height, and when a successful and prudent usurper, like the much-lauded Augustus in ancient Rome, without being personally answerable for the overthrow of the previous constitution, appears pre-eminently in the character of mediator between parties and a general pacificator, the world is ready to accord to him its applause. Gradually his authority is more and more widely acknowledged. Although at first he is recognized conditionally only and relatively, nevertheless, if he remains faithful to his better tendencies, and continues to the last to confer important benefits on his people, he may often give a permanent and historical foundation to his dynasty. But if, on the contrary, under his usurped power, revolution, phenix-like, only renews itself out of its own ashes, and the old anarchy from below revives in another form from above, as a merely military despotism, which, in its resistless and annihilating lust of conquest, honors nothing, but throws the whole world into confusion, then is the second evil worse than the first, which it promised to remedy. By such a course it loses its only moral foundation, inasmuch as it was to the better promise it held out that it owed its temporary and conditional recognition. Such an instance has been brought closely enough before our eyes in the history of very recent times, to enable us at once intuitively to understand its whole character. More slowly, and in a more organized method, and, consequently, with more lasting and historical results, did such transitions shape themselves in the ancient world, and especially in the Roman constitution. The ancient development, therefore, of this phenomenon, and its special form, is highly instructive and pre-eminently calculated to throw a clear light on our whole theory.
Modern history at no period presents to us such a vast system of republican states as we meet with in the annals of antiquity, which exhibit this under the most various forms, as the predominant constitution of the whole civilized world, not only in its infant, but in its maturest and most flourishing development. Not only the Grecian communities, Carthage, Rome, and the Italian municipalities, but also all the independent nations of central and northern Europe, possessed a more or less perfect form of republican polity. This portion, therefore, of ancient history furnishes to political science a phenomenon which in the highest degree demands its attention. However greatly its freedom of inquiry and high intellectual culture, its splendid examples of patriotism and its noble characters and heroic deeds, may prepossess us in its favor, on the whole we are forced to confess that experience has decided against such a system. This great teacher shows it to us as utterly impracticable, and ill adapted to promote the real progress of human development, inasmuch as with whatever of brightest promise it may begin, it invariably terminates in barbarism and disorder. In all of these states we trace early enough the same evil tendency to political license and anarchy, which, developing itself with ceaseless rapidity, soon paves the way to the indeterminate condition of absolute power. Almost all the great thinkers and political writers of antiquity, without exception, set themselves to oppose the democratic element of their national constitutions, and foresaw and predicted the ruin of their country from this source, without being able in any way to prevent it. It will be enough to mention Plato in Athens, and in a different manner and degree, Cicero in Rome, who was himself drawn into the vortex of political strife. The remedy and counterpoise for the evils of this democratical spirit was sought by the political thinkers and philosophers of those times, in a doubtlessly noble but still very imperfect form of an aristocracy—a remedy which is as little consonant to our feelings as it is unlikely to satisfy our scientific convictions. A just and clear idea of an hereditary and well-regulated monarchy was at that date almost entirely unknown, since in its essential features, in its true and perfect character, it is entirely of a Christian origin. In the ancient world, at most, a few and faint outlines of it are occasionally to be discovered.
The internal and external dissensions of the republics of Greece, and the consequent loss of their independence and subjugation by the Macedonian monarchy, or the half-Asiatic half-Grecian powers which sprung out of it, affords a sufficient confirmation of the law that the republican constitution, in the times of moral degeneracy, invariably terminates in popular anarchy and ruin. The same transition in the Roman polity presents us with interesting considerations of a higher but different kind. For in this instance the change was effected with clear ideas, definite views, and well-digested principles. After a long and unparalleled succession of bloody civil wars, and an equally fearful series of foreign conquest and aggression, which were almost indispensable as an outlet for the wild and ambitions passions of men, the catastrophe which forecasting minds had long foreseen at last came about. And instead of continuing a hopeless resistance, it was now the first object of the wise and prudent to convert the new military power into an instrument of peace, and by investing the modern but absolute authority with all the old and hallowed forms of dignity, to bring it as near as possible to the character of an hereditary monarchy. It is to the tendency to improvement which forms the germ of these ideas that we must look for the apology, while in the course of history at this period there lies whatever there can be of reason and justification for such absolute despotism as prevailed at this era in the political world. In itself, however, it can not be too often repeated, it is altogether formless and full of imperfection. A true family succession and hereditary dynasty, however, was scarcely possible, so long as there existed no limit to caprice in adoption or divorce, and when all the relations of marriage and the family were undermined by the universal corruption in morals, which the better emperors sought in vain to check and restrain.
By the ascription to the imperial dignity of priestly offices and titles belonging to the popular religion, it was indeed attempted to give it a more sacred character and sanction. This, however, secured to the emperor no real accession of power. Such was the state of decay and weakness in which religion, no less than morals, was sunk. The heathenism of those days consisted in nothing but some poetical legends, external rites, and ceremonial pomp, which occasionally found a philosophical interpretation, but without a proper intrinsic substance and coherence, and an organized priesthood—all which are to be still found in the ancient religion of the Hindoos. And it was only a natural addition to the other numerous inconsistencies—it only rendered the whole drama the more revolting, if, after an inhuman reign, and after being at last put out of the way in a very human, and, at the same time, very unhuman way, the hated tyrant was in conclusion placed among the national gods. And if under Aurelius and the Antonines better days appeared, still they were but brief and transitory, since they did not, and in truth could not, possess any historical confirmation and moral basis like that of the hereditary monarchy of Christian times and states.
In jurisprudence, not only as a science, but in its practical administration, the Romans have in all ages, and even modern times, been justly famous. One reason, perhaps, of this was the fact, that all who still retained the least sense of right and justice, withdrawing from the dangers of political life and honors, retired to the still inviolate domain of law, and devoted themselves to the development of the old juristic principles. But when the whole social frame, and the very principle of civil existence has become in its inmost essence unrighteous, and based on injustice, a few just laws about property, and robbery, and fraud, and murder, and the like (offenses which, generally speaking, are, for the most part, essentially the same in all times and places), can profit little. Equally unavailing, too, are the shrewdest and most sagacious of juridical treatises on such topics. To extol the Roman Empire on this ground would be tantamount to praising one of the worst and most pernicious systems of philosophical error, or excusing it because it does not violate, or, rather, because it necessarily observes, the ordinary rules of logic, which, however, does not by any means lessen or remove the error, but, on the contrary, aggravates it; since by rendering it so much the more specious, it does but gain for it a more ready acceptance among men.
In the later epoch of the Christian renovation of the Roman Empire in the German, the better elements of the old Roman jurisprudence were rich in valuable and beneficial results. Still the Christian principle of the state accords better with the old Teutonic laws than with the civil code, inasmuch as by the old German usages a greater regard is paid, and a higher influence allowed, to the rights of equity. No doubt but the Roman jurisprudence has most acutely defined and developed this beautiful notion; but it is chiefly as an exception from strict right that it recognizes it at all. For such was the Roman law from its commencement; and it was regarded and established as the proper province of equity to moderate and to soften its original sternness and severity. But, according to Christian law, equity and strict right ought to be in every instance intimately associated and blended together, as is, indeed, implied in the very idea of Christian sentiment and feeling.
Herein lies, consequently, the great and essential distinction between Roman and Christian law. And this is the principle on which a thorough and systematic development of Christian jurisprudence must proceed, and in such a spirit alone can it be consistently carried out. A second distinctive mark of Christian law and of its very conception consists in this, that beyond all others, it is founded on historical rights. No doubt in its simple and natural character the Germanic custom invariably tends toward an historical legislation, both for the burgher and for the private individual, and is so far perfectly reconcilable with the Christian principle of right and justice. But in the full and extensive signification of the term, as it embraces the state, and all such powers of the civilized world as are brought by geographical contact into political relations with each other, it is only the Christian principle of right that can be truly said to be historical; for none but the Christian view of the world really embraces in its plans and consideration the whole of mankind.
Had man not fallen from the very first into dissension and discontent with himself and his fellows, with nature and with God, society would have stood in no need of a constraining force, or of the state to constrain it. For what else is the state but an armed neutrality for the preservation of peace—a sword of justice against wrong, whether from individuals or communities, a fortress and a bulwark against unjust attacks and the violence of war? And whence but from that only perfect system—the system of Christian truth and the first opening of revelation—can we derive the explanation of that which is but the propagation of the old evil and the primal curse? Does it not furnish, in the first wrong and the first fratricide, the historical derivation and origin of the state, accounting for it as the divinely-appointed protection against man’s inborn tendency to injustice? And if in any other history or tradition a tolerably clear and definite allusion to such ideas exist, it was, without doubt, originally derived from the same source.
It is, however, as in my last Lecture I have already endeavored to show, in the second and new divine commencement of the human race that we are to look for the true sanction and foundation of the state; for it is in this renovation of mankind that their true intrinsic and higher peace was first proclaimed and offered to him. Not, however, perfect peace, for that is to be the fruit and reward of having “fought a good fight.”[58] Still it is, in the mean time, a sure and everlasting basis of future peace, and an ever-growing germ of tranquillity even in the present. Viewed in this light, then, every human peace which is not merely specious and pretended, but honestly intended, and in so far Christian, however imperfect and partial, forms, nevertheless, a step in the great scale of progression—an approximation and a preparation to that universal and all-embracing peace of God which is higher than all reason, and all the disputes which arise out of or about it.