06.01a. Lecture 1st - Notes

NOTES TO LECTURE FIRST.

NOTE A. (Page 2.) THE letter which follows was addressed to the present lecturer so far back as February 1853. It was accepted by an influential meeting of friends in December following, as the ideal of what ought to be established. As such, and in justice to the writer, I now give it all the permanent publicity I can. My object in this letter is to lay before you the substance of what I have stated to you in conversation, in regard to my scheme for promoting the more general production of a religious literature of a high class in Scotland. My proposal is to procure the institution of a Lectureship in the Free Church, similar to the Boyle, Warburtonian, Bampton, or Hulsean Lectures of the Church of England, or to the more recent series, called “The Congregational Lectures.” I would propose that a series of such lectures be delivered by some minister or professor of the Free Church during the session of the college—in the Free High Church of Edinburgh, if possible— and that they should be re-delivered during the same, or other convenient period, in the city of Glasgow. It might more certainly keep the selection of lecturers among the men of highest qualifications, and so elevate to a higher point the character of the works to be produced, if this delivery should take place only every third or even fourth year; the effect on the public mind would, I think, even be increased by the interval. But this might be shortened, if necessary, by extending the Lectureship in all, or at least In some cases, over two sessions.

I would have a great latitude permitted in the choice of subjects. Certainly the lecturer should not be limited, as in England, to demonstrations of the Being of a God, or Expositions of the Christian Evidences, but should be left free to select any topic—doctrinal, controversial, exegetical, practical, biographical, historical—that might be of general or present interest. The sole limitation would be that the subject be approved of by any body of Trustees, or Committee of Assembly, that might have the management of the whole matter, and this limitation would give a certain power to that body to procure the selection of any subject that might specially require illustration. The lecturers, being ministers or professors of the Free Church, would of course be responsible to her for the soundness of their teaching.

Each lecturer should be bound to publish his lectures within a certain time after delivery, in such a form that the whole might constitute a uniform series; and he would, of course, be entitled to the profits of such publication. The sum required for the support of this lectureship would be, say £4000, which, at the present current rate of interest (3½ per cent), would yield an annual return of £140; and this, if the lectures were to be delivered every third year, would yield to the lecturer £420; if every fourth year, £560. The church-door collections at the time of delivery would cover the incidental expenses. This, with the profits of publication (and I have no doubt these would be considerable, seeing that purchasers would like to keep up their series), would be good remuneration—a prize worth competing for. The lecturers would be selected by the managing trustees or committee.

Last of all, I propose that the Institution should bear the name of some eminent Father of our Church who might be selected by the subscribers; unless, indeed, some wealthy and patriotic individual could be found to take upon himself the burden of the whole, and to gain, as in England, a wellearned immortality for his name, by connecting it with an Institution so noble and enduring. This is a rough sketch of what I would wish to be done. Should the scheme be approved of, the details could easily be adjusted. But surely, my dear sir, I cannot doubt that the proposal will meet with general approval. For one thing, the adoption of it by the Church would, in process of time, wipe off all ground for the common reproach against our Church and country—that of being destitute of a high-class theological literature. This reproach is not by any means a just one. Our Church has never wanted able and learned men who have, in their own sphere, zealously contended for the faith once delivered to the saints. Still it must be owned, that owing probably to the mould in which their precious thoughts were cast, their works have not obtained that standing in the republic of letters to which they were entitled. The effect of such a state of things on the general standing of our Church may be measured, on the one hand, by the contempt with which the literary world has hitherto looked upon her, and, I fear, upon her religion too; and on the other, by the powerful redeeming influence in her favour which the works of Chalmers have produced.

Now, what is the cause of this inferiority in our theological literature? It is not want of natural capacity; for I hold it to be a fact, that for the last 150 years, in nearly all the great walks of human thought, the first and preeminent British name has ever been that of a Scotchman! This is no vain boast. Look at this list Mental Philosophy -- HUTCHISON, HUME, REID, STEWART, BROWN, HAMILTON.

Natural Science. Chemistry, Medicine -- BLACK, THOMSON. The MUNROS, HUNTER, GREGORY, Sir C. BELL, ABERCEOMBIE, and their illustrious living Successors.

Geology -- HUTTON, PLAYFAIR, LYELL, MURCHISON, MILLER.

Natural History -- JAMESON, FLEMING.

Mathematics, pure and mixed -- MACLAURIN, LESLIE, BREWSTER, PLAYFAIR, IVORY Mechanics -- JAMES WATT History -- BURNET, HUME, ROBERTSON, M’CRIE, MACAULAY, ALISON.

Fiction -- SMOLLETT, SCOTT .

Poetry—

Descriptive -- THOMSON.

Pastoral -- RAMSAY, BURNS.

Dramatic -- HOME.

Narrative -- SCOTT.

Didactic and Lyrical -- CAMPBELL Political Economy -- HUME, ADAM SMITH, MAcCULLOCH.

Biography -- BOSWELL.

Voyages and Travels -- BRUCE, PARK, ROSS.

Periodical Writing -- JEFFREY, WILSON, HORNER, MACKINTOSH, CARLYLE, CHAMBERS.

Painting -- WILKIE Engineering -- RENNIE, TELFORD, FAIRBAIRN. Is not that a noble array of pre-eminent names? Still we are deficient in four branches—Scholarship, Military Talent, Statesmanship, and (till Chalmers) Theology. Now be it remarked that these are just the four which require the greatest expense of production, and poor Scotland seems to want the political influence or wealth needful to produce and sustain them. Rich England and its wealthy Church may keep up a theological literature of a high class. But there is not water enough in Scotland to float vessels of so large a draught. Even England would have had difficulty in doing so, but for the very kind of institutions which I propose to have established. Let us have the same appliances and means to boot; that is, let us make the thing physically possible, and we shall succeed as well as they. Wherever there has been such encouragement we have not been behind. Neither the oppressive toils of the ministry, nor any want of natural capacity, have hindered the land of Boston and Willison from having a popular theological literature equal, if not superior, to that of any nation in Christendom; and only give high-class literature the adequate encouragement, and you will soon have that too.

Now, my dear sir, is not this a scheme that ought, nay, that will call forth the sympathy and aid of the liberal and enlightened friends of the Church. Only think how such an institution as I propose would tell on the people, by supplying them with weighty and sound materials of thought—on the students, by setting before them high models of thought and composition— and on the ministry, by opening up to them a noble arena for the exercise of their powers, and by instituting a legion of honour, in which it would be any man’s pride to be enrolled! The office too, being limited to ministers and professors of the Free Church, would be to that extent an endowment of the Church.

Then how useful would such an institution be as a defence against prevalent error! The enemies of the truth have the advantage common to all other assailants, that of selecting their own time and point of attack. They come therefore first upon the field, and gain a great advantage by this priority of occupation. Before the friends of the truth can, if left to the ordinary chances of demand and supply, be aroused to the rescue, the enemy has made himself master of a wide field, and swept multitudes of prisoners away. Does not the present state of the rationalistic controversy furnish a striking and lamentable proof of what I say? And would not such a lectureship as I propose be in all time to come a ready means of sending forth, on the shortest notice, a champion fully accoutred—to flee to the post of danger—to meet the first movements of the foe, and to hoist he standard of truth, by which to rally all its friends to the help of the Lord against the mighty? And then how noble would such an institution be in the permanence of its character. Those who contribute to its establishment may have the assurance that what they are doing “is not for an age, but for all time.” Throughout every future generation it would have the effect of collecting and preserving every drop of pure and profound thought that might spring up in any part of the Church, and which would otherwise run to waste, or water but the desert—and would concentrate all such supplies into one deep and everwidening stream of Divine truth, which through all coming time would contribute to refresh and make glad the city of our God. May I request you then, my dear sir, to give your attention to this matter, and to devise some way or other by which this great object may be accomplished? I believe it will only be necessary to bring the matter before the public, in order to awaken a deep and general interest in it. Surely there will be found among the generous friends of the Church at least thirty or forty who would contribute a hundred pounds each to the scheme. Or rather there may be some one noble-minded and patriotic individual who would take upon himself the whole charge of this matter, and thus perform a service of vast importance and immortal renown to the resources of his church and the literature of his country.

Mr. Fairbairn continued to press his views from time to time. He published various letters on the subject; one, in particular, in connection with the tricentenary of the Scottish Reformation, dated 7th May 1860, in which, among other things, he says :—

I am glad to observe that in view of the approaching tri-centenary of the Scottish Reformation, there is a general desire to institute some permanent memorial of that great event. It appears to me, therefore, that this is a fit season for my endeavouring to recal public attention to a suggestion which I ventured to throw out some years ago. What I proposed was, that steps should be taken to institute and endow a Lectureship similar to the Boyle, Bampton, Warburtonian, or Hulsean Lectures of the Church of England, or to the more recent series called the Congregational Lectures.

I now beg to suggest that the institution and endowment of such a Lectureship would be a most fitting and profitable memorial of our glorious Reformation. There can be no doubt that this great change originated in a mighty movement of the higher order of minds, both on the Continent and in this country; and every one who has studied the details of our Reformation period knows that the movement in this country was promoted, if not originated, by the study of the great works of Continental Protestantism. There were numerous acts, both of the civil and ecclesiastical powers, having for their object to prohibit the importation of these great works into this country. Let us, then, by all means, be possessed of a literary institute for the defence and illustration of the great principles of Divine truth, which were for the first time promulgated in this country by our glorious Reformation.

I cannot doubt that such a Lectureship would do much to take away our national reproach—the want of an adequate theological literature. It would, I make bold to say, speedily originate a first-rate national school of theology, and would at all events, even in less-favoured cases, be the means of supplying us, as in the case of the English Lectureship at present, with a seasonable and instructive volume on some of the great topics of the day. And then, how noble would such an institution be in the permanence of its character! Those who might contribute to its establishment would have the assurance that what they are doing “is not for an age, but for all time.” Throughout every future generation such an institution would have the effect of collecting every drop of pure and profound thought that might spring up in any part of our Church, and which would otherwise run to waste, or water but the desert; and would concentrate them all into one deep and everwidening stream of Divine truth, which through all coming time would contribute to refresh and make glad the city of our God.*

* I single out Mr. Fairbairn, as entitled to special notice, because it was he who kept his eyesteadily on the accomplishment of the object, and because I believe that it was his persistency that accomplished it. I by no means wish to overlook the claims of other men. In particular, I think much credit is due to Mr. James Knox, who advocated the cause anonymously, in an influential journal, some time before Mr. Fairbairn published anything on the subject, though not before he was known to be actively moving in the matter.

NOTE B. (Page 21.)

It might seem almost necessary to offer an apology for dwelling so much on what may be thought by some to be very elementary principles. But they are, in my view, very vital. And there is in many quarters a strange incapacity to apprehend or unwillingness to admit them. I shall give an instance, by referring for a little to a recent work bearing this title, “On the Fatherhood of God,” by “Thomas Griffith, A.M., Prebendary of St Paul’s” (1862).

I may premise, however, that I regard the title as altogether inapplicable to the book, and fitted, though of course not intended, to mislead. It is not the fatherhood of God at all, as it seems to me, that the writer discusses, but an entirely different subject, the moral government of God. This is his formal definition or description, at the outset of his treatise;—“I mean by this phrase that we must conceive of God as no mere universal Breath, and no mere blind Force, but as a Personal Will endued with wisdom and goodness, the intelligent Author, moral Governor, and righteous Judge of all things” (p. 5). That, and nothing more, is what he sets himself to “assert, vindicate, and establish.” And he is consistent throughout in holding to this view of God’s fatherhood. Over and over again he repeats it. Thus he says:—“In his relation to us, God is all that a Father can be to his children; not alone the Author of our being, but our moral Governor, our righteous Judge” (p. 84). Again he speaks of “the working out of a universal system of retributive justice, or paternal government” (p. 184). Mark the identification of “retributive justice” with “paternal government.” In another place, he formally explains the matter thus:—“The Fatherhood of God, in its widest sense, is of vast extent. It comprises his upholding all things by his power; his prescribing to them their laws of action by his wisdom; his keeping up throughout the universe one vast system of paternal administration in pursuance of one purpose of eternal good” (p. 214). But I need not multiply quotations. As an exposition and defence of the moral government of God, the work of Mr. Griffith is one of considerable value. It contains some striking enough arguments and illustrations in proof of the personality, authority, and will of God. I think it is defective in the views given of moral evil, the manner of its entrance into the world, its effects, and the method of its cure.

Perhaps its defectiveness in some of these particulars may be partly explained by the opinion which he seems to hold on the subject of law, an opinion which appears to me to be erroneous and dangerous.

He is dealing with objections to the fatherhood of God,— that is to the doctrine of there being a living will concerned in the government of the universe,—taken from the fixedness of order and the prevalence of law. He proves that interference with law is no part of a paternal government as thus explained:—“The true idea of God’s Fatherhood is that of the government of a constitutional King, who is the embodiment and executive of law, who sits at the helm of law, and superintends the working of law, as himself the fountain of law,—with no personal caprices, no personal interferences, no mending of defects by sudden incursions of ex post facto will, but providing against defects by the quiet constancy of an ever-present purpose underlying and actuating all things” (p. 182. The italics are the author’s.) I am not quite sure that I understand these closing words. But let that pass. It is what comes after that I am concerned to notice. He goes on to argue for what he calls “a universal system of retributive justice, or paternal government” in connection with law; and he lays great stress on its being universal. “A system of universal retribution is being carried out by the divine will, not in one direction only, but in all; not with reference to personal character merely, but with reference to all the actings of life throughout the universe. And according to this system, we are amenable not only to the so-called, in a narrow sense, Moral laws, but equally to the Mechanical laws, the Physical laws, the Mental laws, all the laws which regulate, each in its own department, universal being. All equally have their sanctions, which must be enforced; all equally their authority, which must be vindicated by reward when they are attended to, by punishment when they are interfered with” (184, 185). He enlarges on this topic; placing, as it seems to me, obedience to all these different kinds of law, precisely on the same footing in respect of obligation and title to reward, and disobedience also to all of them precisely on the same footing in respect of culpability and ill-desert. And this is his answer, and his only answer, to the objection that “God does not adapt his dealings with us to our notions of moral justice.” In reality, as might easily be shown, it is no answer at all; since it leaves the ineradicable craving for justice as unsatisfied as ever, and the enigma which perplexes it as hard as ever. But that is not to my present purpose. I wish simply to point out the fundamental error which runs through all this reasoning. It is a very serious one. It strikes at the root of conscience in man and judgment in God. It resolves all virtue in the creature into prudence; and all government in the Creator into the mere action and reaction upon one another of the forces of the universe. I can scarcely think that this writer is fully aware of the real import of his statements and reasonings, or of the extent to which he commits himself to the doctrine of Combe’s “Constitution of Man;”—though really, his argument, as an answer to the objection with which he is dealing, has not even any shallow speciousness unless he means to put exactly in the same category, as a fair antithesis, the ill-desert of a “godly man,” who “through negligence or ignorance, violates the laws of physical life;” and the good-desert of an ungodly man who, “whether intentionally or not,” “fulfils the laws of his organic system.” It is very sad to see a Christian divine trifling so egregiously with the solemn and awful term, the solemn and awful thought, “retribution;”—applying it equally to what follows from a man’s falling on the ice and to what follows on his uttering an oath or an untruth.

I might ask, in this connection, what does the writer mean when he talks of “the so-called, in a narrow sense, Moral Laws?” Is it that the term “Moral” should be used in a wider sense, as applicable to the “Mechanical laws, the Physical laws, the Chemical laws,” equally with the laws, or the law, of duty, commonly designated by that name? I cannot understand him to mean anything else. And yet, if that is his meaning, he commits an egregious logical fallacy, and what is worse, surrenders the entire principle of the moral government of God.

There is a logical fallacy here which imposes upon many. It is admitted that the Natural laws,—embracing under that phrase the Mechanical, Physical, and Chemical laws,—fall within the range of the Moral law; as indeed “all the laws which regulate, each in its own department, universal being,” necessarily must do. In other words, we are morally bound to have respect to the natural laws which are observed to operate in the created world, and to keep them in view, as ordinances of the Creator, in the regulation of our conduct. Ordinarily also we are bound to act according to these natural laws,—to act so that their operation shall benefit and not hurt us. But the obligation to do so does not arise out of these laws themselves; nor is it measured or determined by them. It is not constituted by these laws. It belongs to another category altogether;—the category of a higher law; a law which, being itself unchangeable as the nature and will of the Supreme, must rule me always in my dealing with these other laws, and may compel me often practically to set them at defiance. For they have no standing beyond the material creation and consequently they have no right to control the immortal spirit in its allegiance to the Creator. The hero, the patriot, the philanthrophist, the martyr,—even the enlightened self-disciplinarian seeking his own highest perfection,—may suggest instances in point. But the logical fallacy is the least evil involved in the loose way of talk in which this author, with many others, indulges. To extend the term “Moral” to these natural laws, is not really to exalt the latter, but to debase and destroy the former. If my obligation to keep the laws of the decalogue, or the two commandments which are its sum, is of the same sort as my obligation to have respect to the law of gravitation,—if the one is neither more nor less moral than the other,—then duty, as “a categorical imperative,” on the part of God, and responsibility, as conscience toward God on the part of man, become mere names. Government, properly so called, is out of the question. The entire system of “universal being,” in the midst of which I find myself, from its lowest to its highest range, is still no doubt a system in which, after a sort, law prevails, and order is upheld by law. But it is a kind of self-acting law, working out its end by the equable pressure of its various departments on the various constitutions, and constitutional powers and susceptibilities, of those under it; enforcing itself or avenging itself in the same way upon all, from the meanest monad to the loftiest archangel; and so ultimately securing universal conformity to the purposes of the great Creator. That may be a theory of the universe satisfactory to some minds. But it cannot be satisfactory to any who defend, as this author does most strenuously, and in the main successfully, the view of the Creator which represents him as a real living Person, ruling real living persons made after his image;—ruling them by the assertion of his rectoral authority, as their sovereign, over them, and of their accountability, as his subjects, to him. On the whole, I conclude that the only safeguard of morality and religion, the only defence of human duty and the divine throne, is to keep the moral law clear and distinct, as being radically different, in its essential character and nature, from all the generalized observations of fact which have been suffered to usurp, or allowed for convenience to borrow, the name; and I would add, almost as a corollary from that, to keep clear and distinct from one another God’s necessary government of moral beings by law and judgment, and his free fatherhood.

NOTE C. (Page 26.)

I would not have my argument become a mere logomachy, or fight about words. And, in particular, I would not wish to be supposed to run counter to the line of thought, or even to the phraseology, customary in the writings of the old and sound British divines. They certainly seem to speak as if they held that a natural and original relation of fatherhood and sonship subsisted between God and his intelligent creatures, in virtue simply of their being his creatures, or in virtue of their being his intelligent creatures. They carefully distinguish, however, that natural and original relation from the relation constituted de novo, in the case of all true Christians, by regeneration and adoption; of new, I repeat, and not simply in the way of restoration. It is this last relation that I am chiefly concerned to vindicate. I may differ from them,— in appearance, however, more than in reality,—in my way of vindicating it. But we agree in holding it to be a part of the dispensation of grace, dependent on the joint work of the Son and of the Spirit. If I take any exception to their suggestion of a natural and original relation of fatherhood and sonship, it is mainly because it seems to me to bring in at the very outset of creation an altogether inadequate ideal or type of that relation—falling far short, in my apprehension, of what is realised as the issue of redemption. Still there is really nothing in their usual mode of putting the relation of intelligent creatures, as such, to their Creator, to which I would seriously object;—excepting only on the ground that it tends, as I fear, in some degree, to substitute a figurative for a real notion of the fatherhood.

I take Pearson and Barrow as authorities.

Pearson, in his Exposition of the Creed, Article 1, “I believe in God the Father,” opens the subject thus: “Although the Christian notion of the Divine paternity be some way peculiar to the evangelical patefaction”—let the reader mark that—“yet wheresoever God hath been acknowledged, he hath been understood and worshipped as a Father: the very heathen poets so describe their gods, and their vulgar names did carry father in them, as the most popular and universal notion.” In his foot-notes on this sentence, he quotes a statement from Lactantius, to the effect that every god worshipped by man must be styled father, “not only by way of compliment, but by force of reason, both because he is more ancient than man, and because he gives to man life, preservation, and sustenance, as a father.” Then he brings in Homer’s favourite expression, “Father of gods and men,” and cites Servius as “observing of Virgil, that the paternal title is poetically added to almost all the gods, that they may become the more venerable.” He goes on to enumerate the different grounds upon which God may be called a father, beginning with “the creation or production of anything, by which it is, and before was not;” which, he says, “is a kind of generation, and consequently the creator or producer of it a kind of father.” In this sense he says, with reference to the rain and dew (Job 38:28), “God, as the cause, may be called the Father of it; though not,” as he adds, “in the most proper sense, as he is the Father of his Son” `Ete,rwj gar tij u`etou/ pate,ra qeo.n avkou,ei kai. e`te,rwj ui`ou).*[1] Of course, he distinguishes the rational creatures of God, as being his sons by way of eminence; but without really implying more on their behalf than that they can know who their maker is. And this, with the addition of “conservation,” is literally all that Pearson holds to be implied in the idea of an original and natural fatherhood on the part of God. For he goes on immediately to speak at much greater length of God’s fatherhood by redemption, by regeneration, by adoption—as to all which grounds of fatherhood I substantially agree with him, with this qualification, that I would transpose the two parts of his exposition. I would place first his most admirable statement of the fatherhood of God with reference to his Eternal Son, and deduce from that, as founded upon it, the fatherly relation which, in his Son become incarnate, he sustains to those who are savingly interested in the work that he became incarnate to accomplish; who are, in short, one with him by faith.

Barrow is fuller on this subject than Pearson. But much the same may be said of him as of the other. In his parallel treatises, “The Christian Faith Explained and Vindicated,” and “A Brief Exposition of the Creed, etc.,” he enlarges on the article, “1 believe in God the Father.” In doing so, he makes much use, according to his custom, of the classic writers and the early fathers. But the sum of what he thus gathers is given by himself in this compendious form:—“In so many several respects is God our Father: we are his children—(l) as being his creatures, made, preserved, and maintained by him; (2) as we are intellectual creatures, being placed in degree and quality of nature so near him; (3) as we, by virtue and goodness (produced in us by his grace), do anywise approach him, resemble him, and partake of his special favour; (4) as we are Christians, adopted into his heavenly family, renewed by his holy grace, and destinated to a participation of his eternal glory.”—(“The Christian Faith,” etc., Sermon X.) Of the four grounds on which the relation is here made to rest, the first two alone are natural, the others being confessedly of grace. And in the first two nothing really is involved beyond mere origination in the one, and in the other, such resemblance, in respect of intelligence, as makes intelligent personal intercourse possible. There is a remarkable passage immediately preceding that now quoted, to which I may afterwards refer, as connecting the sonship of believers with the incarnation of the Son. Meanwhile, it is enough for my purpose to show that, in whatever sense, and whether properly or not, these divines make God, as Creator, to be the Father of his creatures, this can mean nothing more, even in the case of the highest intelligences, than that he and they can understand one another, and can converse and commune accordingly.

NOTE D. (Page 42.) A singular and striking confirmation of this view is to be found in “Locke’s two Treatises on Government,” and in the two works of Sir Robert Filmer, Bart.,—his “Observations, &c.,” and his “Patriarcha, or the Natural Power of Kings,” (1680),—to which Locke’s Treatises were a reply. The Baronet’s brochures are of little worth. Their only value is that they called out such an antagonist, and gave that great man occasion for not only destroying his opponent, but erecting a stronghold on the side of liberty that has never since been shaken. I cannot enter into details. But I may note it as a significant fact that Sir Robert’s fundamental position makes all government paternal, and that he builds upon that position the most unrestricted doctrine of absolute power that has ever been propounded in an intelligent age. Passive obedience and non-resistance are his cherished tenets. The right of kings to make laws and overrule laws, to command their subjects as they see fit, with no counter-right of opposition recognizable in any circumstances whatever, is pled to the most extreme point. And the basis of the whole pleading is the idea of a paternal government. All government, according to him, is originally paternal; and as being so, it is hereditary. He has great difficulty in tracing the hereditary line of descent. The inextricable complexities of ever-changing dynasties, empires, kingdoms, commonwealths, puzzle him somewhat. But in spite of facts, his theory carries him through, just as the High Church theory of apostolic succession carries divines through in the face of all historical embarrassments. The High Church divines contrive, in spite of endlessly doubtful ecclesiastical genealogies, to invest the modern bishop with all the prerogatives belonging to what they hold to be the primary episcopate. And so also, Sir Robert, as representing the ultra-loyalist party of his day, makes no scruple about placing all existing legitimate kings in the position of the first parent of our race, and assigning to them the very same sort of authority which, according to him, Adam had over his family begotten of his loins and living under his roof. And what follows, according to Sir Robert’s logic? Nothing short of the most absolute right, on the part of all kings, to treat their subjects, who are their children, as dependants wholly at their disposal, without natural privilege or claim of any sort, beyond what a mere infant, or a mere boy, has in the household of his father. No other warrant is needed for the cruellest tyranny on the one hand, and the tamest acquiescence on the other. Hence the zeal with which Locke repudiates the paternal theory of human government, and insists on its being based on another principle; a principle which by no means, as some suppose, excludes a divine ordinance as sanctioning human government, but only makes the actual carrying out of the divine ordinance dependent instrumentally, as it must always ultimately be, on the consent of the community. Of course, the only point of analogy here, between the human government and the divine, is the entire separation and seclusion of the paternal element from the proper and original ideal of both. Whether the government rests immediately on the sovereignty of God, or mediately on the consent of men, makes no difference, as regards the present question. In either case it is a government based fundamentally on mere law and judgment, and altogether exclusive of the paternal relation or the idea of fatherhood. The intrusion of that relation or idea, when it is human government that is to be considered, inevitably leads to tyranny, for the popular voice is excluded. When it is the divine government that is to be considered, it introduces a corresponding disorder; not perhaps in the way of establishing tyranny, but rather in the way of tending to anarchy; for in that case the divine supremacy, in virtue of which God necessarily vindicates his just rule, is practically excluded. For there are these two opposite ways of working out the theory of all government being paternal, and paternal only. In the case of human government, it exempts the governor from the obligation of observing as well as enforcing righteous law, and so gives him a discretionary power which he may push to any extent of severity. In the case of the divine government, it does the same thing, but with an opposite issue. It makes the Divine Governor independent, in his government, of his own righteous law; and so gives him a discretionary power which he may push to any extent of laxity. The only security for liberty in human governments, and for authority in the divine, is the recognition of the principle,—and the recognition of it as a first and fundamental principle,—that the foundation of all government is law, in the strict forensic sense of the term; and that the essential function of all governors is to administer law, and to administer it judicially and not paternally.

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[1] * “One understands God to be father of the dew in another sense than that in which he is father of the Son.” Sever. in Job, as quoted by Pearson.