ke other sovereigns, by the "grace of God," but by a peculiar
privilege and inherent right, as Vicar of Christ. Resistance to his will
is not simply rebellion, but the deeper and deadlier sin of sacrilege.
His interpretation relieves the mind from the agony of doubt; his
blessing frees the conscience from the burden of sin. And how, if
earnest-minded and sincere, can he fail to look upon the interests of
the State as subordinate to the interests of the Church, and interpret
his duties and obligations as the legatee of Constantine by his feelings
and convictions as the successor of St. Peter?

In the practical exercise of this authority be feels the want of other
eyes to help him see and other hands to help him do. He cannot read all
that is to be read, or write all that is to be written, or even hear and
say all that is to be heard and said. However great his love of detail,
there are details which he cannot reach. However comprehensive his
glance, or unwearied his industry, there are objects that lie beyond the
compass of his vision, and labor to be performed which no industry can
bring within the human allotment of twenty-four hours.

Therefore, reserving to himself the final decision, he distributes the
various functions of government among his official counsellors and those
from whom new counsellors are to be chosen. He spreads an elaborate
network over all the interests and functions of the State, holding the
line in his own hand, and drawing or relaxing it at his own pleasure. He
is still the lawgiver and the judge, dictating according to his own
judgment, and deciding according to his own conviction. Of his laws
there is no revision; from his sentence there is no appeal. The duties
of the subject are defined by the rights of the sovereign; and of those
rights he is the sole and absolute judge.

Hence a consciousness of power ever present and supreme, extending to
all that has been left him of the common relations of life,--to the hour
of business and the hour of repose, to the hall of audience and the
garden-walk, and giving equally its deceptive coloring to the thoughts
that stir him when borne on the shoulders of men through a prostrate
crowd, and those that flit dimly through his brain as he lays a weary
head upon a solitary pillow. And hence, too, he becomes for himself, as
well as for others, an object of constant contemplation,--valuing things
as they contribute to his pleasure, and men as they subject the