ctions and religious
distinctions does more than any other represent the principle that "God
has made of one blood all the nations of the earth."

Sec. 3. THE MANDATE OF DESTINY

In these two armies then, and in what each brings to the vanquished,
the contrast between two forms of Imperialism outlines itself sharply.
The earlier, that of the ancient world, little modified by mediaeval
experiments, limits itself to concrete, to external justice, imparted
to subject peoples from above, from some beneficent monarch or tyrant;
the later, the Imperialism of the modern world, the Imperialism of
Britain, has for its end the larger freedom, the higher justice whose
root is in the soul not of the ruler but of the race. The former
nowhere looks beyond justice; this sees in justice but a means to an
end. It aims through freedom to secure that men shall find justice,
not as a gift from Britain, but as they find the air around them, a
natural presence. Justice so conceived is not an end in itself, but a
condition of man's being. In the ancient world, government ever tends
to identify itself with the State, even when, as in Rome or Persia,
that State is imperial. In the modern, government with concrete
justice, civic freedom as its aims, ever tends to become but a function
of the State whose ideal is higher.

The vision of the _De Monarchia_--one God, one law, one creed, one
emperor, semi-divine, far-off, immaculate, guiding the round world in
justice, the crowning expression of Rome's ideal by a great poet whose
imagination was on fire with the memory of Rome's grandeur--does but
describe after all an exterior justice, a justice showered down upon
men by a beneficent tyrant, a Frederick I, inspired by the sagas of
Siegfried and of Charlemagne, or the second Frederick, the "Wonder of
the World" to the thirteenth century, and ever alluring, yet ever
eluding, the curiosity of the nineteenth; or a Henry VII, ineffectual
and melancholic. Such "justice" passes easily by its own excess into
the injustice which dispatches Alva's army or finds bizarre expression
in the phrase of "le Roi soleil,"--"The State? I am the State." The
ideal of modern life, the ideal of which Britain is the supreme
representative amongst existing empires, starting not from justice but
from freedom, may be traced beyond the French Revolution and the
Reformation, back even to the command "Render unto Caesar." That word
thrust itself like a wedge into