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.