n of it as real in relation to other acknowledged realities.
Paul had undoubtedly an apologetic of forgiveness--namely, his doctrine
of atonement. But the acknowledged reality in relation to which he
defined forgiveness--the reality with which, by means of his doctrine of
atonement, he showed forgiveness to be consistent--was not the law of the
Jews (though that was included in it, or might be pointed to in
illustration of it): it was the law of God, the universal and inviolable
order in which alone eternal life is possible, and in which all men, and
not the Jews only, live and move and have their being. It was the
perception of this which made Paul an apostle to the Gentiles, and it is
this very thing itself, which some would degrade into an awkward,
unintelligent, and outworn rag of Pharisaic apologetic, which is the very
heart and soul of Paul's Gentile gospel. Paul himself was perfectly
conscious of this; he could not have preached to the Gentiles at all
unless he had been. But there is nothing in it which can be
characterised as 'legal,' 'judicial,' or 'forensic'; and of this also, I
have no doubt, the apostle was well aware. Of course he occupied a
certain historical position, had certain historical questions to answer,
was subject to historical limitations of different kinds; but I have not
the courage to treat him, nor do his words entitle any one to do so, as a
man who in the region of ideas could not put two and two together.

But to return to the point from which this digression on St. Paul
started. We have seen that the relations of God and man are personal,
and also that they are universal, that is, there is a law of them, or, if
we like to say so, a law in them, on the maintenance of which their whole
ethical value depends. The next point to be noticed is that these
relations are deranged or disordered by sin. Sin is, in fact, nothing
else than this derangement or disturbance: it is that in which wrong is
done to the moral constitution under which we live. And let no one say
that in such an expression we are turning our back on the personal world,
and lapsing, or incurring the risk of lapsing, into mere legalism again.
It cannot be too often repeated that if the universal element, or law, be
eliminated from personal relations, there is nothing intelligible left:
no reason, no morality, no religion, no sin or righteousness or
forgiveness, nothing to appeal to mind or conscience. In the widest
sense