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No. VI.
THE
ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY.
,
BY
LUDWIG FEUERBACH.
ttrnnslut.eb fram tg.e
.ctanh O).ermnn
MHan,
BY
MARIAN EVANS,
TBANSLATOB OF "STBAUS
S LIFE OF JESUS
LONDON:
JOHN CHAP
IAN,
8, KIN G WI L L I A 1\1 S T R E E T, S T RAN D.
XDCCCLIV.
LONDON:
SAVILL AND EDWARDS. PRINTERS. CHANDOS STREET.
COVENT GARDEN.
PREFACE
TO
THE SECOND EDITION.*
THE clamour excited by the present work has not surprised
Ine, and hence it has not in the least moved me from my
position. On the contrary, I have once more, in all cahnness,
subjected my work to the severest scrutiny, both historical and
philosophical; I have, as far as possible, freecl it from its
defects of form, and enriched it with new developments, illustra-
tions and historical testinlonies,-testimonies in the highest
degree striking and irrefragable. Now that I have thus verified
my analysis by historical proofs, it is to be hoped that readers
whose eyes are not sealed will be convinced and will admit, even
though reluctantly, that my work contains a faithful, correct
translation of the Christian religion out of the oriental language
of imagery into plain speech. And it has no pretension to be
anything more than a close translation, or, to speak literally,
an empirical or historico-philosophical analysis, a solution of
the enigma of the Christian religion. The general propositions
which I premise in the Introduction are no à priori, excogi-
tated propositions, no products of speculation; they have
arisen out of the analysis of religion; they are only, as in-
tleed are all the fundamental ideas of the work, generalizations
* The opening paragraphs of this Preface are omitted, as having too
pecific a reference to transient German polemics to interest the Engli::;h
reader.
vi
PREFACE.
from the known manifestations of human nature, and in par-
ticular of the religious consciousness,-facts converted into
thoughts, i. e., expressed in general terms, and thus made the
property of the understanding. The ideas of my work are only
conclusions, consequences, drawn from premises which are not
themselves mere ideas, but objective facts either actual or
historical-facts which had not their place in my head simply
in virtue of their ponderous existence in folio. I unconditionally
repudiate absol'ute, immaterial, self-sufficing speculation,-that
speculation which draws its material from within. I differ toto
cælo from those philosophers who pluck out their eyes that
they may see better; for rny thought I require the senses,
especially sight; I found my ideas on materials which can be
appropriated only through the activity of the senses. I do not
generate the object from the thought, bl
t the thought from the
object; and I hold that alone to be an object which has an exist-
ence beyond one's own brain. I all1 an idealist only in the region
of practical philosophy, that is, I do not regard the limits of
the past and present as the limits of humanity, of the future;
on the contrary, I firmly believe that many things-yes, many
things-which with the short-sighted, pusillanimous practical
men of to-day, pass for flights of imagination, for ideas never
to be realized, for mere chimeras, will to-morrow, i.e., in the
next century,-centuries in individual life are days in the life
of humanity,-exist in full reality. Briefly, the "Idea" is
to me only faith in the historical future, in the triumph of
truth and virtue; it has for nle only a l)olitical and moral sig-
nificance; for in the sphere of strictly theoretical philosophy,
I attach myself, in direct opposition to the Hegelian philosophy,
only to 'realisnt, to materialislll in the sense above indicated.
The maxim hitherto adopted by speculative philosophy: all
that is mine I carry with me, the old olnnia l1lea nWC1l1n po'rto,
I cannot, alas! appropriate. I have many things outside my-
self, ,,'hich I cannot convey either in my pocket or my head,
but which nevertheless I look upon as belonging to me, not
indeed as a mere man-a view not now in question-but as a
philosopher. I anl nothing but a natzt1'((;llJhilosophc1" in thc
PREFACE.
Vll
d01na in of ?nincl; anù the natural philosopher can do nothing
without instruments, without material means. In this character
I bave written the present work, which consequently contains
nothing else than the principle of a new philosophy verified
practically, i. e., in concreto, in application to a special object, but
an object which has a universal significance: namely, to religion,
in which this principle is exhibited, developed and thoroughly
carried out. This philosophy is essentially distinguished from
the systems hitherto prevalent, in that it corresponds to the real,
complete nature of man; but for that very reason it is antagonistic
to minds pervertell and crippled by a superhuman, i. e., anti-
human, anti-natural religion anù speculation. It does not, as I
have already said elsewhere, regard the pen as tbe only fit organ
for the revelation of truth, but the eye and ear, the hand and foot;
it does not identify the idea of the fact with the fact itself, so as
to reduce real existence to an existence on paper, but it separates
the two, and precisel)T by this separation attains to the fact itself;
it recognises as the true thing, not the thing as it is an object
of the abstract reason, but as it is an object of the real, cOlnplete
man, and hence as it is itself a real, complete thing. This
philosophy does not rest 011 an Understanding per Be, on an
absolute, nameless understanding, belonging one knows not to
whom, but on the understanding of man ;-t}lough not, I grant,
on that of man enervated by speculation and dogma ;-and it
speaks the language of nleu, not an empty, unknown tongue.
Yes, both in substance anù in speech, it places philosophy in
the negation of philosophy, i. e., it declares that alone to ùe the
true philosophy which is converted in B'llCCUJ]li et sanglline1n,
which is incarnate in 1\lan; and hence it finds its highest
trÍl.unph in the fact that to all dull and pedantic minds, which
place the essence of philosophy in the show of philosophy, it
appears to be no philosophy at all.
This philosophy has for its principle, not the Substance of
Rpinoza, not the ego of Kant and Fichte, not the Absolutt)
Identity of Schelling, not the Absolute 1\Iind of Hegel, in short,
no abstract, merely conceptional being, but a 'real being, the
true Ens 1'ealissinuon-lllan; its principle, therefore, is ill the
Vlll
PREFACE.
highest degree positive and real. It generates thought from
the opposite of thought, from J\Iatter, from existence, from the
senses; it has relation to its object first through the senses, i. e.,
passively, before defining it in thought. Hence my work, as a
specimen of this philosophy, so far from being a production to
be placed in the category of Speculation,-although in another
point of view it is the true, the incarnate result of prior philo-
sophical systems,-is the direct opposite of speculation, nay,
puts an end to it by eXplaining it. Speculation makes religion
say only what it has itself thought, and expressed far better
than religion; it assigns a meaning to religion without any refer-
ence to the act'ltal meaning of religion; it does not look beyond
itself. I, on the contrary, let religion itself speak; I constitute
myself only its listener and interpreter, not its prompter. Not to
invent, but to discover, "to unveil existence;' has been my sole
object; to see correctly, my sole endeavour. It is not I, but re-
ligion that worships man, although religion, or rather theology,
denies this; it is not I, an insignificant individual, but religion it-
self that says: God is man, man is God; it is not I, but religion
that denies the God who is not man, but only an ens 'rationis,-
since it makes God become man, and then constitutes this God,
not distinguished from man, having a human form, human feel-
ingsand human thoughts, the objectofitsworshipancl veneration.
I have only found the key to the cipher of the Christian religion,
only extricated its true meaning from the web of contradictions
and delusions called theology ;-but in doing so I have certainly
committed a sacrilege. If therefore my work is negative,
jrreligious, atheistic, let it be remembered that atheism-at
least in the sense of this work-is the secret of religion itself;
that religion itself, not indeed on the surface, but fundamentally,
not in intention or according to its own supposition, but in its
heart, in its essence, believes in nothing else than the truth and
divinity of human nature. Or let it be provccl that the his-
torical as well as the rational arguments of my work are false;
let them be reflItpd-not, however, I entreat, by judicial
denunciations, or theological jeremiads, by the trite pbrases
of speculation, or other llÍtiful expedients for which I have no
PREFACE.
IX
name, but by 'reasons, and such reasons as I have not already
thoroughly answered.
Certainly, my work is negative, destructive; but, be it observed,
only in relation to the unhuman, not to the human elements
of religion. I t is therefore divided into two parts, of which
the first is, as to its main idea,1Josith'e, the second, including
the appenùix, not wholly but in the main, negative; in both,
however, the same positions are proved, only in a different or
rather opposite manner. The first exhibits religion in its essence,
its truth, the second exhibits it in its contradictions; the first
is development, the second polemic; thus the one is, according
to the nature of the case, calmer, the other more vehement.
Development advances gently, contest impetuously; for de-
veloplnent is self-contented at every stage, contest only at the
last blow. Development is deliberate, but contest resolute.
Development is light, contestfi1
e. Hence results a difference
between the two parts even as to their form. Thus in the first
part I show that the true sense of Theology is Anthropology,
that there is no distinction between the 1JJ.edicates of the divine
and human nature, and, consequently, no distinction between
the divine and human subject: I say consequently, for wherever,
as is especially the case in theology, the predicates are not acci-
dents, but express the essence of the subject, there is no distinc-
tion between subject and predicate, the one can lJe put in the
place of the other; on which point I refer the reader to the
.A.nalytics of Aristotle, or even merely to the Introduction of
Porphyry. In the second part, on the other hand, I show that
the distinction which is made, or rather supposed to be made,
between the theological and anthropological predicates, resolves
itself into an absurdity. Here is a striking example. In the
first part I prove that the Son of God is in 1'eligion a real son,
the son of God in the same sense in which man is the son of
man, and I find therein the tr'uth, the essence of religion, that
it conceives and affirms a profoundly human relation as a divine
relation; on the other hand, in the second part I bhow that the
:Son of God-not indeed in religion, but in theology, which i
the reflection of religion upon itself,-is not a son in the natural,
A3
x
PREFACE.
human sense, but in an entirely different manner, contradictory
to :Nature and reason, and therefore absurd, and I finù in this
negation of human sense anù the human understanding, the
negation of religion. Accordingly the first part is the direct,
the second the indirect proof, that theology is anthropology:
hence the second part necessarily has reference to the first; it
has no independent significance; its only aim is to show, that
the sense in ,vhich religion i
interpreted in the previous part
of the work 1n1lst be the true one, because the contrary is ab-
surd. In brief, in the first part I am chiefly concerned with
'religion, in the second with theology: I say chiefly, for it was
impossible to exclude theology from the first part, or }'eligion
from the second. .A mere glance will show that my investigation
includes speculative theology or philosophy, and not, as has been
here and there erroneously supposed, conunon theology only, a
kind of trash from which I rather keep as clear as possible,
(though, for the rest, I am sufficiently well acquainted with it,)
confining myself always to the most essential, strict and neces-
sary definition of the object, * and hence to that definition which
gives to an object the most general interest, and raises it above
the sphere of theology. But it is with theology that I have to
do, not with theologians; for I can only undertake to charac-
terize what is primary,-the original, not the copy, principles,
not persons, species, not individuals, objects of history, not
objects of the chroniql.le scandale'llse.
If my work contained only the second part, it would be þer-
fectly just to accuse it of a negative tendency, to represent the
lwoposition: Religion is nothing, is an absurdity, as its essen-
tial purport. But I by no means say (that were an easy task I) :
God is nothing, the Trinity is nothing, the "\V ord of God is
nothing, &0.; I only show that they are not that which the
illusions of theology make them,-not foreign, but native mys-
teries, the mysteries of human nature; I show that religion
takes the apparent, the superficial in Nature and hUlllanity, for
* For example, in considering the sacraments, I limit myself to two;
for, in the strictest sense (see Luther, t. xvii. p. 558), there are no more.
PREFACE.
Xl
the essential, and hence conceives their true essence as a sepa-
rate, special existence: that consequently, religion, in the
definitions which it gives of God, e. g., of the 'V ord of God,-
at least in tho
e definitions which are not negative in the sense
above alluded to,-only defines or milkes objective the true
nature of the hUlnan word. The reproach that accorùing to IllY
book, religion is an absurdity, a nullity, a pure illusion, would
be \vell-founded only if, according to it, that into which I re-
solve religion, which I prove to be its true object and substance,
namely ?nan,-anthropology, were an absurdity, a nullity, a
pure illusion. But so far from giving a trivial or even a sub-
ordinate significance to anthropology,-a significance which is
assigned to it only just so long as a theology stands above it
and in opposition to it,-I, on the contrary, while reducing
theology to anthropology, exalt anthropology into theology,
very much as Christianity, while lowering God into man, made
man into God; though, it is true, this human God was by a
further process made a transcendental, imaginary God, remote
from man. Hence it is obvious that I do not take the word
anthropology in the sense of the Hegelian or of any other philo-
SOI)hy, but in an infinitely higher and more general sense.
Religion is the dream of the human mind. But even in
dreams we do not find ourselves in emptiness or in heaven, but
on earth, in the realm of reality; we only see real things in the
entrancing splendour of imagination and caprice, instead of in
the simple daylight of reality and necessity. Hence I do
nothing more to religion-and to speculative philosophy and
theology also-than to open its eyes, or rather to turn its gaze
from the internal towards the external, i. e., I change the object
as it is in the imagination into the objeet as it is in reality.
But certainly for the pre
ent age, which prefers the sign to
the thing signified, the copy to the original, fancy to reality,
the appearance to the essence, this change, Ì1ulslnuch as it does
away with illusion, is an absolute annihilation, or at least a
reckless In'ofanation; for in these days illusion only is sacred,
truth prof(tne. Nay, sacredness is held to be enhanced in pro
portion as truth decreases and illusion increases, so that the
xu
PREFACE.
highest degree of illusion comes to be the highest degree of
sacredness. Religion has disappeared, and for it has Leen sub-
stituted, even a1l10ng Protestants, the appearance of religion-
the Church-in order at least that" the faith" may be imparted
to the ignorant and indiscriminating multitude; that faith
being still the Chl'istian, because the Christian churches stand
now as they did a th.ousand years ago, and now, as fonnerly,
the external signs of the faith are in vogue. That which has
no longer any existence in faith (the faith of the modern world
is only an ostensible faith, a faith which does not believe what
it fancies that it believes, and is only an undecided, pusillani-
mous unbelief-) is still to pass current as opinion: that which
is no longer sacred in itself and in truth, is still at least to seem
sacred. Hence the simulated religious indignation of the pre-
sent age, the age of shows and illusion, concerning my analysis,
especially of the Sacraments. But let it not be demanded of
an author who prol)oses to hÍ1nself as his goal not the favour
of his contemporaries, but only the truth, the unveiled, naked
truth, that he sllould have or feign respect towarùs an empty
nppearance, especially as the object which underlies this appear-
ance is in itself the culminating point of religion, i. e., the point
fit which the religious slides into the irreligious. Thus much in
justification, not in excuse, of my analysis of the Sacraments.
'Vith regard to the true bearing of IllY analysis of the sacra-
Inents, especiaHy as presented in the concluding chapter, I only
remark, that I therein illustrate by a palpable and visible ex-
ample the essential purport, the peculiar theme of my work, that
I therein call upon the senses themselves to witness to the truth
of my analysis and myideas, and ùemonstrate ad oClllos, ad tac-
tzt1n, acl gustu"m, what I have taught ad captllm throughout the
previous pages. As, namely, the water of Baptism, the wine and
òread of the Lord's Supper, taken in their natural power and
significance, are and effect infinitely more than in a superna-
turalistic, illusory significance; so the oùject of religion in
general, conceived in the sense of this work, i. C., the anthropo-
logical sense, is infinitely more productive and real, both in
theory and practice, than when accepted in the sen.se of theo-
PREFACE:
XliI
logy. For as that which is or is supposed to be imparted in the
water, bread, ana wine, over anel above these natural substances
themselves, is something in the inlagination only, but in truth,
in reality, nothing; so also the object of religion in general,
the Divine essence, in distinction from the essence of Nature
and Humanity,-that is to say, if its attributes, as understand-
ing, love, &c., are and signify something else than these attri-
butes as they belong to man and N ature,-is only sOlnething in
the imagination, but in truth and reality nothing. Therefore-
this is the moral of the fable-we should not, as is the case
in theology and speculative l)hilosophy, make real beings and
things into arbitrary signs, vehicles, symbols, or predicates of
a distinct, transcend ant, absolute, i. e., abstract being; but we
should accept and undel
stand them in the significance which
they have in themselves, which is identical with their qualities,
with those conditions which make them \\
hat they are :-thuß
only do we obtain the key to a (real theory {In(l practice. I, in
fact, put in the place of the barren baptismal water, the bene-
ficent effect of real water. How" watery," how trivial ! Yes,
indeed, very trivial. But so J\Iarriage, in its time, was a very
trivial truth, which Luther, on the ground of his natural good
sense, maintained in opposition to the seemingly holy illusion
of celibacy. But wl1ile I thus view water as a real thing, I at
the same time intend it as a vehide, an image, an example, a
symbol, of the" unholy" spirit of my work, just as the water
of Baptism-the object of my analysis-is at once literal
and symbolical water. It is the same with bread and wine.
l\Ialignity has hence drawn the conclusion that bathing, eating
and drinking are the SUl1una S'll'1n1narUJn, the positive result of
my work. I make no other reply than this: if the whole of
religion is contained in the Sacraments, and there are conse-
quently no other religious acts than those which are performed
in Baptislll and the Lord's Supper; then I grant that the entire
purport and positive result of my work are bathing, eating aud
drinking, since this work is nothing but a faithful, rigid histo-
rico-philosophical analysis of religion-the revelation of reli-
gion to itself, the a
()akening of (religion to self-consciousness.
XIV
PREFACE.
I sayan historico-philosophical analysis, in distinction from
a merely historical analysis of Christianity. The historical
critic-such a one, for example, as Daumer or Ghillany-shows
that the Lord's Supper is a rite lineally descended from the
ancient Cultus of human sacrifice; that once, instead of bread
and wine, real human flesh and blood were partaken. I, on
the contrary, take as the object of my analysis and reduction
only the Christian significance of the rite, that view of it which
is sanctionecl in Christianity, and I proceed on the supposition
that only that significance which a dogma or institution has in
Christianity (of course in ancient Christianity, not in modern),
whether it n1ay present itself in other religions or not, is also
the trIte origin of that dogma or institution in so far as it is
Christian. Again, the historical critic, as, for example, Lütz-
elberger, shows that the narratives of the miracles of Christ
resolve themselves into contradictions and absurdities, that
they are later fabrications, and that consequently Christ was no
miracle-,vorker nor, in general, that which he is represented to
be in the Bible. I, on the other hand, do not inquire what the
real, natural Christ was or may have been in distinction from
what he has been Inade or has become in Supernaturalism; on
the contrary, I accept the Christ of religion, but I show that
this superhuman being is nothing else than a product and reflex
of the supernatural human mind. I do not ask whether this
or that, or any miracle can happen or not; I only show u'hat
miracle is, and I show it not à pr'iori, but ùy examples of
miracles, narrated in the Bible as real events; in doing so,
however, I answer or rather preclude the question as to the
possibility or reality or necet;sity of miracle. Thus much con-
cerning the distinction between lue and the historical critics
who have attacked Christianity. As regards 111Y l'elation to
Strauss and Bruno Bauer, in company 'with WhOl11 I am con-
stantly named, I merely point out here that the distinction
between our works is sufficiently indicated by the distinction
between their objects, which is implied even in the title-page.
Bauer takes for the object of his criticism the evangelical his-
tory, i. e., biblical Christianity, or rather biblical theology;
PREFACE.
xv
Strauss, the System of Christian Doctrine and the Life of Jesus,
(which may also be included under the title of Christian Doc-
trine,) i. e., dogmatic Christianity or rather dogmatic theology;
I, Christianity in general, i. e., the Christian religion, and
consequently, only Christian philosophy or theology. Hence I
take my citations chiefly from men in whom Christianity was
not merely a theory or a dogma, not merely theology, but re-
ligion. J\Iy principal theme is Christianity, is Religion, as it is
the inunecliate object, the i1n.mecliate natwre, of man. Erudi-
tion and philosophy are to me only the 'Jneans by which I bring
to light the treasure hid in man.
I must further mention that the circulation which my work
has had amongst the public at large, was neither desired nor
expected by me. It is true that I have always taken as the
standard of the mode of teaching and writing, not the abstract,
particular, professional philosopher, but universal man, that I
have regarded 'lnan as the criterion of truth, and not this or
that founder of a system, and have from the first placed the
highest excellence of the philosopher in this, that he aùstains,
both as a man and as an author, from the ostentation of philo-
sophy, i. e., that he is a philosopher only in reality, not fo nn ally ,
that he is a quiet philosopher, not a loud and still less a brawling
one. Hence, in all my works as well as in the present one, I
have made the utmost clearness, simplicity and definiteness, a
law to myself, so that they may be understood, at least in the
Inain, by every cultivated and thinking man. But notwith...
standing this, Iny work can be appreciated and fully understood
only by the scholar, that is to say, by the scholar who loves
truth, who is capable of fonning a judgment, who is above the
notions and prejudices of the learned and unlearned vulgar; for
although a thoroughly independent production, it has yet its
necessary logical basis in history. I very frequently refer to
this or that historical phenomenon without expressly designating
it, thinking this superfluous; and such references can be under-
stood by the scholar alone. Thus, for example, in the very
first chapter, where I develope thë necessary consequences of
the stanù-pointofFeeling, I allude toJ acobi and Schleiermacher;
xvi
PREFACE.
in the second clulpter I allude chiefly to Kantism, Scepticism,
Theism, J\laterialism and Pantheism; in the chapter on the
"Stand-point of Religion," where I discuss the contradictions
between the religious or theological and the physical or natural-
philosophical view of Nature, I refer to philosophy in the age
of orthodoxy, and especially to the philosophy of Descartes
and Leibnitz, in which this contradiction presents itself in a
peculiarly characteristic manner. The reader, therefore, who is
unacquainted wi th the historical facts and ideas presupposed in
my work, will fail to perceive on what my arguments and ideas
hinge; no wonder if my positions often appear to him baseless,
however firm the footing on which they stand. It is true that
the subject of nlY work is of universal human interest; more-
over, its fundamental ideas, though not in the form in which
they are here expressed, or in which they could be expressed
under existing circunlstances, will one day become the conlmon
property of mankind: for nothing is opposed to them in the pre-
sent day but empty, powerless illusions and prejudices in contra-
diction with the true nature of man. But in considering this
subject in the first instance, I 'was under the necessity of treating
it as a matter of science, of philosophy ; and in rectifying the aber-
rations of R,eligion, Theology, and Speculation, I was naturally
obliged to use their expressions, and even to appear to speculate,
or-which is the same thing-to turn theologian myself, while I
nevertheless only analyse speculation, i. e., reduce theology to
anthropology. J\Iy work, as I said before, contains, and ap-
plies in the concrete, the principle of a new philosophy suited-
not to the schools, but-to man. Yes, it contains that principle,
but only by e'Colving it out of the" very core of religion; hence,
be it said in passing, the new philosophy can no longer, like
the old Catholic and modern Protestant scholasticism, fall into
the temptation to prove its agreement with religion by its
agreement with Christian dogmas; on the contrary, being
evolved from the nature of religion, it has in itself the true
et;sence of religion,-is, in its very quality as a philosophy, a
religion also. But a work which considers ideas in their genesis
and explains and demonstrates them in strict sequence, is, by
PREFACE.
XVII
the very form which this purpose imposes upon it, unsuited to
popular reading.
Lastly, as a supplement to this work with regard to many
apparently unvindicated positions, I refer to my articles in the
Deutsches Jahrbuch, January and February, 1842, to my cri-
tiques and Charakteristiken des modernen After-christenthu?ns,
in previous numbers of the same periodical, and to my earlier
works, especially the following :-P. Bayle. Ein Beitrag ZlU.
Geschichte de? Philosophie 'Lind ]'Ienschheit, Ausbach, 1838,
and Philosophie und Chr-istenth'llm, l\Iannheim, 1839. In
these works I have sketched, with a few sharp touches, the
historical solution of Christianity, and have shown that Chris-
tianity has in fact long vanished, not only from the Reason but
from the Life of mankind, that it is nothing more than a fixed
idea, in flagrant contradiction with our Fire and Life Assurance
companies, our rail-roads and steam-carriages, our picture and
sculpture galleries, our military and industrial schools, our
theatres and scientific museums.
LUD"\VIG FEUERBACH.
Bruckberg, Feb. 14, 1843.
CON TEN T S.
INTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER PAGB
I. 9 1. The Essential Nature of Man . . . . . . . 1
I. 9 2. The Essence of Religion considered generally. . . . 12
PART I.
THE TRUE OR ANTHROPOLOGICAL ESSENCE OF RELIGION.
II. God as a Being of the U nderstallding . . . . . . . . 32
III. God as a.Moral Being, or Law . . . . . . . . . . 43
IV. The Mystery of the Incarnation; or, God as Love, as a Being
of the Heart . . . . . ! . . . . . . . . . 49
V. The Mystery of the.S
ffering God. .... . 58
VI. The Mystery of the Trinity and the .lVlother of God. 64
VII. The Mystery of the Logos and Divine Image. . .. 73
VIII. The Mystery of the CosnlOgonical Principle in God. . . . 79
IX. The ltl ystery of sticism, or Nature in God . . . . . 86
X. The Mystery of Providence and Creation out of Nothing. . 100
. XI. The Significance of the Creation in Judaism. . . . . . 111
XII. The OmnipoteI1ce of Feeling, or the Myster of Prayer . . 119
XIII. The l\lystery of Faith-the Mystery of l\Iiracle. . . . . 125
XIV. The Mystery of the Resurrection and of the Miraculous Con-
ception . . ". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 134
XV. The Mystery of the Christian Christ, or the Personal God . 139
XVI. The Distinction between Christianity and Heathenism . . 149
XVII. The Significance of Voluntary Celibacy and l\Ionachism . . 159
, XVIII. The Cluistian }leaven, or Perßonal Immortality . . . . 169
xx
CONTENTS.
PART II.
THE FALSE OR THEOLOGICAL ESSENCE OF RELIGION.
CHAPTER
XIX. The Essential Stand-point of Religion. .
XX. The Contradiction in the Existence of God
XXI. The Contradiction in the Revelation of God
XXII. The Contradiction in the Nature of God in general .
XXIII. The Contradiction in the Speculative Doctrine of God.
XXIV. The Contradiction in the. Trinity. . . .
XXV. The Contradiction in the Sacraments .
XXVI. The Contradiction of Faith and Love . . .
XXVII. Concluding Application. . . . . .
PAGB
. . . 184
. . . 196
. . . 203
. 211
. . 224
. 230
. . 234
. 245
. 267
APPENDIX.
..
I..
SECTION'
1. The Religious Emotions purely Human . 275
2. God is Feeling released from Limits . . 277
3. God is the highest Feeling of Self . . . . . . . . . . 278
4. Distinction between the Pantheistic and Personal God . . . 279
5. Nature without interest for Christians. . . . . . . . . 282
6. In God l\Ian is his own Object . . . . . .. .. 284
,.-
7. Christianity the Religion of Suffering a . . 287
8. Mystery of the Trinity. . . . . . . 288
9. Creation out of Nothing . . . . . 293
10. Egoism of the Israelitish Religion. . . . . . . 294
11. The Idea of Providence. . . . . . . . . 295
12. Contradiction of Faith and Reason . . 300
13. The Resurrection of Christ . . 304
14. The Christian a Supermundane Being . . 304
15. The Celibate and Monachism. . . . . . 305
16. The Christian Heaven . . . . . . . . . . . 313
17. What Faith denies on Earth it affirms in Heaven . . 315
18. Contradictions in the Sacraments I . . . . . . 316
19. Contradiction of Faith and Love.
. . 319
20. Results of the Principle of Faith. . 325
2).. Contradiction of the God-
lan. . . 332
22. .Anthrppology the 1\1 ystery of Theology . .. . . . 337
THE
ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
1. The Essentictl Nature of ]Ian.
RELIGIO
has its basis in the essential difference between mall
and the brute-the brutes have no religion. It is true that
the old uncritical writers on natural history attributed to the
elephant, among other laudable qualities, the virtue of religi-
ousness; but the religion of elephants belongs to the realm of
fable. Cuvier, one of the greatest authorities on the animal
kingdom, assigns, on the strength of his personal observa-
tions, no higher grade of intelligence to the elephant than to
the dog.
l3ut what is this essential difference between man and the
brute? The most simple, general, and also the most popular
answer to this question is-consciousness :-but consciousness
in the strict sense; for the consciousness implied in the feeling
of
elf as an individual, in discrÏ1nillation bv the senses, in
the perception and even judgment of outward things accord-
ing to definite sensihle signs, cannot be denied to the brutes.
Consciousness in the strictest sense is present only in a being
to whom his species, his essential nature, is an object of
thought. The brute is indeed conscious of himself as fin
individual-and he has accordingly the feeling of self as the
comUlon centre of successive sensations-but not as a species:
hence, he is without that consciousness which in its nature, aR
in its name, is akin to science. 'Vhere there is this higher
consciousness there is a cap
bility of science. Science is the
cognizance of species. In practical life we have to do with
individuals; in science, with species. But only a being to
B
2
THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY.
,vhom his own species, his own nRture, is an object of thougllt,
('an make the essential nature of other things or beings an
object of thought.
Hence the brute has only a sÏ1llple, man a twofold life: in
the brutQ, the inner life is one .with the outer; man has both an
inner and an outer life. The inner life of man is the life whieh
has relation to his species, to his general, as distinguished from
his individual, nature.
Ian thinks-that is, he converses with
himself. The brute can exercise no function which has rela-
tion to its specie
without another individual external to
itself; but man can perform the functions of thought and
speech, which strictly inlply such a relation, apart from another
individual. l\Ian is himself at once I and thou; he can put
himself in the place of another, for this reason, that to hinl his
species, his essential nature, and not merely his individuality,
is an object of thought.
Religion being identical with the distinctive characteristic of
Jnan, is then identical with self-consciousness-with the con-
sciousness which man has of his nature. But religion, ex-
IH'essed generally, is consciousness of the infinite; thus it is
and can be nothing else than the consciousness which man has
of his own-not finite anù lÌInited, but infinite nature. A
really finite being has not even the faintest adumbration, still
less consciousness, of an infinite being, for the lin1it of the
nature is also the lin1it of the consciousness. The conscious-
ness of the caterpillar, whose life is confined to tt particular
species of plant, does not extend itself beyond this narrow
domain. I t does, indeed, discriminate between this plant and
other plants, but n101'e it knows not. A consciousness so
limited, but on account of that very limitation so infallible, we do
not call consciousness, but instinct. Consciousness, in the
strict or proper sense, is identical with consciousness of the
infinite; a limited consciousness is no conseÌousnebs; con-
sciou
ness is essentially infinite in its nfiture.* The conscious-
ness of the infinite is nothing else tlwn the consciousness of
the infinity of the consciousness; or, in the consciousness of
* Objectull1 intellectus esse illimitatum sive omne verum ac, ut
loquuntur, omne enR ut CllS, ex eo ('on
tat, quod ad nullum non genus
l o erum extenditur, nullumque eHt, cujus cogno8cendi capax non sit, Jiret ob
varia obstacula multa sint, qum l o e ipsa non norit.-Gassendi, (Opp. Omn.
Phys.)
THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF MAN.
:3
the infinite, the conscious subject has for his object the infinity
of his own nature.
'Vbat, then, is the nature of n1an, of which he is conscious,
or what constitutes the specific distinction, the proper lnunanity
of 111an?* Reason, 'ViII, Affection. To a conlplete man belong
the power of thought, the power of will, the power of affection.
The power of thought is the light of the intellect, the power of
will is energy of character, the power of affection is love.
Reason, love, force of win, are perfections-the perfections of
the human being-nay, more, they are abbolute perfections of
being. To will, to love, to think, are the highest powers, are
the absolute nature of man as man, and the basis of his ex-
istence.
Ian exists to think, to love, to will. Now that
which is the end, the ultÜnate aim, is also the true basis and
principle of a being. But what is the enù of reason? Reason.
Of love? Love. Of will? Freedolll of the will. 'Ve think
for the sake of thinking; love for the sake of loving; will for
the sake of willing-i.e., that we may be free. True existence
is thinking, loving, wining existence. That alone is true, per-
fect, divine, which exists for its own sake. But such is love,
such is reason, such is will. The divine trinity in man, above
the individual nlan, is the unity üf reason, love, will. Reason,
'Vill, Love, are not powers which man possesses, for he is
nothing without them, he i::; what he is only by them; they are
the constituent elements of his nature, which he neither has
nor makes, the llnimating, determining, governing powers-
divine, absolute powers-to which he can ol)pose no resistance.t
How can the feeling nlan resist feeling, the loving one love,
the rational one reason? 'Vho has not experienced the over-
whelming power of melody? And what else is the -power of
melody but the power of feeling?
Iusic is the language of
feeling ; melody is audible feelin g-feeling communicating
itself. 'Vho has not experienced the power of love, or at least
heard of it ? 'Vhich is the stronger-love or the individual
* The obtuse materialist says: "l\lan is distinguished from the brute
only by consciomme:;:s-he is an animal with consciousness superadded;"
not reflccting, that in a being which awakes to consciommess, thcre takcs
place a qualitative change, a differentiation of the entire nature. For the
rest, our words are by no nwam3 intended to depreciate the nature of the
lower animals. This is not the place to enter ftl1ther into that queRtion.
t "Toute opinion est assez forte pour se faire exposer au prix de la
vie." - :
Iont.aigne.
B 2
4
THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY.
man? Is it man that l)ossesses love, or is it not much rather
love that possesses man? "\Vhen love imI)els a nlan to suffer
death even joyfully for the beloved one, is this death-conquer-
ing power his own indiyidual power, or is it not rather the
power of love? And who that e"'ler truly thought has not
experienced that quiet, subtle power-the power of thought?
"\Vhen thou sinkest into deep reflection, forgetting thyself and
what is around thee, clost thou govern reason, or is it not
reason which governs and absorbs thee? Scientific enthu-
siasm-is it not the most glorious triumph of intellect over
thee? The desire of knowledge-is it not a simply irresistible,
and all-conquering power? And when thou suppressest a
passion, renonncest a habit, in short, achievest a victory over
thyself, is this victorious power thy own personal power, or is
it not rather the energy of will, the force of morality, which
seizes the mastery of thee, and fills thee with indignation
against thyself and thy individual weaknesses?
J\lan is nothing without an object. The great modt'ls of
humanity, such men as reveal to us what man is capable of,
have attested the truth of this proposition by their lives. They
had only one dominant passion-the realization of the aim
.which was the essential object of their activity. But the
object to which a subject essentially, necessarily rplates, is
nothing else than this subject's own, but objective, nature. If
it be an object common to several indiviclnn1s of the Stlnle
species, but under various conditions, it is still, at least as to
the form under which it presents itself to each of then1 accord-
ing to their respective modifications, their own, but objective,
nature.
Thus the Sun is the common object of the planets, but it is
an object to l\Iercury, to Venlls, to Saturn, to Uranus, under
other conditions than to the Earth. Each planet has its own
sun. The Sun "which lights and warms Uranus has no physical
(only an astronomical, scientific) existence for the earth; anù
not only does the Sun appear different, 1nlt it really is another
sun on Uranus than on the Earth. The relation of the Sun
to the Earth is therefore at the same time a relation of the
E artb to itself, or to its own nature, for the l11eaSUl'e of the
size and of the intensity of light which the Sun possesses as
the object of the Eartb, is the lueasure of the diðtflnce, which
detenniues the peculiar nature of the Earth. Hence each
planet 110.::5 in its "sun the mirror of its own nature.
THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF l\IAN.
5
In the object whieh he contmuplates, therefore, man becomes
acquainted with himself; consciousness of the objective is the
self-con
ciousness of mall. 'Ve know the man by the object,
by his conception of what is external to hÏ1nself; in it his
nature beCOl11es evident; this object is his manifested nature,
his true objective ego. And this is true not lnerely of spiritual,
but also of sensuous objects. Even the objects which are
the 11l0st r81note fi.Olll 11lan, because they are objects to him,
and to the extent to which they are so, are revelations of human
nature. Even the 11100n, the snn, the stars, call to luan rVWOL
(TEaVTóv. That he sees them, and so sees them, is an eyidence
of his own nature. The anÏ1nal is sensiLle only of the beam
which immediately affects life; while man perceives the ray,
to him l)hysically indifferent, of the remotest star. l\Ian alone
has purely intellectual, disinterested joys and passions; the
eye of man alone keeps theoretic féstivals. The eye which
looks into the starry heavens, whieh gazes at that light, alike
useless and harmless, having nothing in common with the
earth anel its necessities-this eye sees in that light its own
nature, its own origin. The eye is heavenly in its nature.
Hence Ulan elevates hiInself above the earth only with the eye;
hence theory begins with the contemplation of the heavens.
The first philosophers were astronomers. It is the heavens
that admonish man of his destination, and remind him that he
is destined not merely to action, but albo to contemplation.
The absolute to Ulan is his own nature. The 110wer
of the 0 bj ect over him is therefore the power of his own
nature. Thus the power of the object of fepling is the power
of feeling itself; the power of the object of the intellect is the
power of the intel1ect itself; the power of the object of the will
is the power of the will itself. The man who is affected by
musical sounds, is governed by feeling; by the feeling, that is,
which finds its corresponding element in musical sounds. But
it is not melody as such, it is only lnelody pregnant with
meaning and emotion, which has power over feeling. Feeling
is only acted on by that which conveys feeling, i. e., by itself,
its own nature. Thus also the will; thus, and infinitely nlore,
the intellect.. 'Yhatever kind of object, therefore, we are at
Rny tÏ1ne conscious of, we are ahvavs at the same tin1e conseious
of
our own nature; we can affil'
nothing without affirming
ourselves. And since to will, to feel, to think, are 11erfeetions,
essences, realities, it is impossible that intellect, feeling, and
6
THE ESSEXCE OF CHRISTIANITY.
will should feel or perceive then1selves as IÜnited, finite powers,
i. e., as worthless, as nothing. For finiteness and nothingness
are identical; finiteness is only a euphemisnl for nothingness.
Finiteness is the metaphJsical, the theoretical-nothingness
the pathological, practical expression. 'Vhat is finite to the
understanding is nothing to the heart. But it is ÌInpossible
that we should be conscious of will, feeling, and intellect, as
finite powers, because every perfect existence, every original
power and essence, is the Ì1nmediate verification and affinl1ation
of itself. It is Ì1npossible to love, win, or think, without per-
ceiving these activities to be perfections-impossible to feel
that one is a loving, willing, thinking being, without expe-
riencing an infinite joy therein. Consciousness consists in a
being becoming objective to itself; hence it is nothing apart,
nothing distinct frolll the being which is conscious of itself.
How could it otherwise become conscious of itself? It is
therefore impossible to be conscious of a perfection as an
imperfection, impossible te> feel feeling limited, to think thought
limited.
Consciousness is self-verification, self-affirmation, self-love,
joy in one's own perfection. Consciousness is the charac-
teristic mark of a perfect nature; it exists only in a self-suf-
ficing, cOInplete being. Even lHunall vanity attests this truth.
A. man looks in the glass; he has complacency in his appear-
ance. This complacency is a necesbary, involuntary conse-
quence of the completeness, the lJeauty of his fonn. A beau-
tiful fonn is satisfied in it
elf; it has necessarily joy in itself
-in self-contcmplation. This cOlnplacency becolnes vanity
only when a man piques himself on his form as being his
indivÎflual form, not when he adnlires it as a speeÏ1nen of
human beauty in general. It is fitting that he shoul)(: See, for example, Gen. xxxv. 2; Levit. xi. 4..t; xx. 26; and the
Commentary of Le Clerc on these passages.
32
THE ESSEKCE OF CHRISTIAXITY.
.
PAR T I.
THE TRUE OR ANTHROPOLOGICAL ESSENCE OF
RELIGION.
CH.APTER II.
GOD AS A BEING OF THE ù
DERSTA.NDIKG.
RELIG IO
is the disuniting of man from himself: he sets
God before him a8 the antithesis of himself. Goel is not ,,-hat
Inan is-luan is not ,,,hat God is. God is the infinite, lllan
the finite being; God is perfect, nlan Ï1llperfect; God eternal,
Jl1an teJl1poral; God almighty, luan ".eak; God holy, man sin-
ful. God and nlan are extremes: God is the absolutely po:::;i-
tive, the StUll of all realities; luan the absolutely negative,
comprehending all negations.
But in religion ll1aU contemplates his own latent nature.
Hence it must be shown that this antithesis, this differencing
of God and nlan, with which religion begins, is a differencing
of man wi th his own nature.
The inherent necessity of this proof is at once apparent
from this,-that if the divine nature, ,,-hich is the object of
religion, were really different frolll the nature of luan, n.
division, a disunion could not take place. If God is really a
different Leing from nly:::;elf, why should his perfection trouble
me? Disunion exists only between beings who are at variance,
but who ought to 1e one, who can be one, and who conse-
quently in nature, in truth, are one. On this general ground,
then, the nature ,,-i th which man feels himself in disunion,
must be inhorn, inllllanent in hinlself, but at the sanle tinle it
must be of a different character from that nature or power
.which gives hinl the feeling, the consciousness of reconciliation,
of union with God, or, what is the same thing, with himself.
GOD AS A BEIKG OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 33
This nature is nothing else than the intelligence-tho reason
or the understanding. God as the antithesis of nlan, as a
being not lnunan, i.e., not personally human, is the objective
nature of the understanding. The pure, perfect divine nature
is the self-consciousness of the understanding, the conscious-
ness which the under::;tanding has of its own perfection. The
understanding knows nothing of the ::;uflerings of the heart;
jt has no desires, no passions, no wants, and for that reason,
no deficiencies and weaknesbe:s, as the heart has.
Ien in
wholn the intellect predon1Ïllates, who with one-sided but an
the more characteristic definiteness, embody and perbonify for
us the nature- of the understanding, are fì'ee fro III the anguish
of the heart, fronl the passions, the excesses of the nlan who
has strong enlotions; they are not l)assionately interested in
any finite, i.e., particular object; they do not give thenlselves
in pledge; they are free. "To want nothing, and by this
freedom from wants to becolne like the imnlortal Goels;"
- "not to subject ourselves to things but things to us ;"
-" all is vanity ;"-these and similar sayings are the nlottoes
of the men who are governed by abstract understanding. The
understanding is that part of our nature which is neutral, im-
l)assible, not to be bribed, not subject to illusions-the pure,
passionless light of the intelligence. It is the categorical,
Ünpartial consciousness of the fact as fact, because it is itself
of an objective nature. It is the consciousness of the uncon-
tradictory, because it is itself the nncontradictory unity, the
source of logical identity. It is the consciousness of law,
necessity, rule, llleasure, because it is itself the actiyity of law,
the l1ece
sity of the nature of things under the forll1 of spon-
taneous activity, the rule of rules, the absolute nleasure, the
measure of measures. Onl y 1JY the understanding Call nutn
judge and act in contradiction with his dearest hUlllan, that is,
personal feelings, when the God of the understanding,
law,
necessity, right,-commands it. The father who as a judge
condemns his own son to death because he knows him to be
guilty, can do this only as a rational not as an ml1otional being.
The understanding shews us the faults and weaknesses even of
our beloved ones; it shews us even our own. It is for this reason
that it so often throws us into painful collision with ourselves,
with our own hearts. "\Ve do not like to give rea
on the upper
hand: we are too tender to ourselves to carry out the true, but
hard, relentless verùict of the understanding. The under
C 3
34
THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY.
tanc1ing is the power which has relation to species: the heart
represents 1) articular circumstances, individuals, -the under-
standing, general circu111stances, universals; it is the super-
lnunan, i.e., the impersonal power in man. Only by and in
the understanding has nlan the power of abstraction from
himself, from his subjective being, - of exalting himself to
general ideas and relations, of di
tinguishing the object from
the inlpressions which it produces on his feelings, of regarding
it in and by itself without reference to hunlan personality.
Philosophy, mathematiC's, astronomy, physics, in short, science
in general, is the practical proof, because it is the product, of
this truly infinite anLl divine activity. Religious nnthropoll1or-
phisms, therefore, are in contradiction with the understanding;
it repudiates their application to God; it denies them. But
this God, free fronl anthropomorphisms, inlpartial, 1)H.ssionless,
is nothing else than the nature of the understanding itself
regarded as objectiye.
God as God, that is, as a being not finite, not hunuln