Having thus repelled what I think a ridiculous criticism, I will admit that Lord Hugh’s doctrine raises some interesting, and even disputable, points.  In the first place, there is the theory of the Universal Church as the Divine Kingdom on earth, and of the citizenship in which all its members are united.  I grant the theory; but I ask myself if I am really bound by it to love all these my fellow-citizens, whatever their conduct and character may be.  Love is an elastic word; and, if I am to love the Germans, I must love them in some very different sense from that in which I love my country and my race.  It really is, in another form, the old controversy between cosmopolitanism and patriotism.  The “Enthusiasm of Humanity” is a noble sentiment; but the action of our fellow-members of the human family may be such as to render it, at least for the moment, impossible of realization.  Under the pressure of injury from without, cosmopolitanism must contract itself into patriotism.  We may wish devoutly that the whole human family were one in heart and mind—­that all the citizens of the kingdom of God obeyed one law of right and wrong; but when some members of the family, some citizens of the kingdom, have “given themselves over to a reprobate mind,” our love must be reserved for those who still own the claim of righteousness.  If our own country stood as a solitary champion of right against a world in unrighteous arms, patriotism would be a synonym for religion, and cosmopolitanism for sin.

And then again I ask myself this question:  Even assuming that Lord Hugh is right, and that it is our bounden duty to love the Germans, is love inconsistent with punishment?  We postulate the love of God towards mankind, and we rightly regard it as the highest manifestation of what love means; but is it inconsistent with punishment for unrighteous action?  Neither Revelation, nor Nature, nor History, knows anything of the conception which has been embodied in the words, “a good-natured God.”  Of Revelation I will not speak at length, for this is not the place for theological discussion; I only remark in passing that the idea of punishment for wrong-doing is not, as some sciolists imagine, confined to the Old Testament, though there it is seen in its most startling form; in the New Testament it is exhibited, alike by St. Paul and by St. Paul’s Master, as a manifestation of love—­not vindictive, but remedial.  The disciplining love of a human father is used to illustrate the Divine dealings with insubordinate mankind.  About Nature we need scarcely argue.  “In the physical world there is no forgiveness of sins,” and rebellion against the laws of righteous living brings penal consequences which no one can mistake.  And yet again, has History any more unmistakable lesson than that “for every false word or unrighteous deed, for cruelty and oppression, for lust or vanity, the price has to be paid at last”?  Froude was right.  “Injustice and falsehood may be long-lived, but doomsday comes at last to them, in French Revolutions and other terrible ways.”