ty; but plurality
is _ex hypothesi_ not to be found. The notion of the State further
involves sovereignty, in the sense of final and complete control of its
members by each of a number of societies. But this, again, is _ex
hypothesi_ not to be found. There is one final control, and one only, in
the mediaeval system--the control of Christian principle, exerted in the
last resort, and exerted everywhere, without respect of persons, by the
ruling vicar of Christ. But if plurality and sovereignty thus disappear
from our political philosophy, we need a new orientation of all our
theory. We must forget to speak of nations. We must forget, as probably
many of us would be very glad to forget, the claims of national
cultures, each pretending to be a complete satisfaction and fulfilment
of the national mind; and we must remember, with Dante, that culture
(which he called 'civility') is the common possession of Christian
humanity. We must even forget, to some extent, the existence of
different national laws. It is true that mediaeval theory admitted the
fact of customary law, which varied from place to place. But this
customary law was hardly national: it varied not only from country to
country, but also from fief to fief, and even from manor to manor. It
was too multiform to be national, and too infinitely various to square
with political boundaries. Nor was customary law, in mediaeval theory,
anything of the nature of an ultimate command. Transcending all customs,
and supreme over all enactments, rose the sovereign majesty of natural
law, which is one and indivisible, and runs through all creation. 'All
custom,' writes Gratian, the great canonist, 'and all written law, that
are adverse to natural law, are to be counted null and void.' Here, in
this conception of a natural law upholding all creation, we may find
once more a Stoic legacy to the Christian Church. 'Men ought not to live
in separate cities, distinguished one from another by different systems
of justice'--so Zeno the Stoic had taught--'but there should be one way
and order of life, like that of a single flock feeding on a common
pasture.' Zeno, like St. Paul, came from Cilicia.[20] Like St. Paul, he
taught the doctrine of the one society, in which there was neither Jew
nor Gentile, neither Greek nor barbarian. We shall not do wrong to
recognize in his teaching, and in that of his school, one of the
greatest influences, outside the supreme and controlling influence of
t