UCSB LIBRARY
CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
BY DE. ADOLF WUTTKE,
LATE PROFESSOR OP THEOLOGT AT HALLE.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY DR. W. F. WARREN.
OP THE BOSTON TJNIVEE8ITT.
TRANSLATED BY
JOHN P. LACROIX.
VOLUME II.-PURE ETHICS.
EDINBURGH :
T. & T. CLARK, GEORGE STREET.
' • MDCCCLXXIII. .
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
NELSON & PHILLIPS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
NOTE OF TRANSLATOR
THIS second volume contains the first of the three
forms under which Dr. Wuttke treats of the subject-
matter of Christian Ethics. It embraces and occu
pies the entire ethical field. Its aim is to treat each
phase and bearing of the moral life from a normal
or ideal stand-point ; in other words, to present the
moral life as God originally willed, and yet wills,
that it should be. It involves in its scope, therefore,
»
all the essential principles of the system of the author,
and constitutes a whole in and of itself.
As to the scientific character of the work, and as
to whether it answers wants which are but v.ery im
perfectly met by any of our present English treatises ;
in a word, as to whether the work of Dr. Wuttke
finds before it, in the English-reading world, a com
paratively unoccupied and yet very important field,
I beg leave to refer the reader chiefly and ultimately
to the work itself, but also, preliminarily, to the special
iv NOTE OF TEANSLATOE.
introduction to this volume, for which I am thank
fully indebted to Dr. W. F. Warren, of the Boston
University. Frank and earnest words like these from
this distinguished scholar and theologian will, I am
sure, not fail to arrest the attention of whoever
thirsts after clear and truly Christian views on the
great problems of human life. J. P. L.
INTKODUCTION.
No literature is richer in native productions in
the field of Ethics than the English. It probably pre
sents more original, representative systems of moral
philosophy than any other. This at least would seem,
to be the verdict of a distinguished French philoso
pher, and French philosophers are not often afflicted
with " anglomania " in any amiable sense. In the
nineteenth Lecture of his Introduction to Ethics,
Jouffroy pays this high tribute to his neighbors across
the channel : " How has it happened, you may ask,
that all these moral systems, which we have been
considering, were of English origin ? The explana
tion of the fact is this very simple one, that moral
philosophy, properly so called, has been infinitely
more cultivated in England during the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries than in any other part of
Europe. In France, for example, the Cartesian era
produced only one eminent moralist, Malebranche ;
and Malebranche belonged neither to the class of
selfish philosophers, nor to that of the sentimental
philosophers. Cartesianism was followed in France,
in the middle of the eighteenth century, by a new
philosophy, but this was the system of materialism
yi INTKODUCTKXN.
in metaphysics and of selfishness in morals ; and
called to choose between Helvetius and Hobbes, I
could not b,ut prefer Hobbes. Much the same might
be said of the philosophy of Germany, which has
always been more metaphysical than moral, and has
never exhibited any forms of the selfish or instinctive
systems, which have obtained such a European celeb
rity as those of Hobbes, of Smith, and of Hume."
That fhis fertility of Anglo-Saxon mind in the de
partment of ethical speculation was not limited to
the centuries named, is clear from the bulk of our
more recent ethical literature. Its full stream has
never subsided, and is to-day pouring on past Bain
and Barratt, in England, past Hickok and Hopkins
in America.
But while this department of our literature is al
most immeasurable, and certainly invaluable, it is
sadly deficient in works written from a distinctively
Christian stand-point. One large portion of our trea
tises are purely philosophical. Another, perhaps still
larger, wretchedly confuse and mix up the ethics of
philosophy with the ethics of revelation. Scarce one
author has attempted to present in an independent
scientific form the whole ethical system of Chris
tianity. It is much as if we had innumerable treatises
on what is called natural theology, but as yet not one
on the doctrines of the Christian Revelation. Di
dactic theologians have occasionally included in their
Bodies of Divinity a brief account of the " Morals of
INTRODUCTION. yii
Christianity," but thus far no one has yet done for
Christian Ethics in our literature, what Danseus and
Calixtus did for it in the Keformed and Lutheran
Churches of continental Europe. The Science of
Christian Ethics is with us almo'st unknown. Too
many of our least suspected manuals, written by
honored arid able evangelical divines, presuppose
and continually imply a Socinian anthropology ^ and
a worse than Romish soteriology.* *
Whatever may be the true explanation of this grave
deficiency, it certainly is not due to an oversight of
the essential difference between philosophical and
Christian Ethics. Not a few of our evangelical writ
ers have pointed out the incompleteness and com
paratively imperfect basis of the former; but, with
the exception of Wardlaw, scarce one has done
any thing to supplant or to supplement it. John
Foster, in the Fourth of his "Essays," has some
excellent thoughts on the impossibility of ignoring
such revealed facts as Human Depravity, Redemption,
the Mission of the Spirit, Immortality, and Future
Judgment, in any comprehensive and thorough
presentation of the system of Human Duty. Richard
Watson enumerates five grave mischiefs, which result
* Twenty years ago, when a mere college lad, the present writer
addressed a letter to Dr. Wayland, respectfully and earnestly inquir
ing in what way certain statements in his " Moral Science " could be
harmonized with evangelical views of human depravity. His answer
was a curiosity. I would give not a little to be able to present it
here.
Viii INTRODUCTION.
from the attempt " to teach morals independently of
Christianity." The, writer of the essay on the Science
of Christian Ethics in the work, " Science and the
Gospel," (London, 1870,) a writer who acknowledges
his great obligation to "the lucid and admirable
WUTTKE," calling him " one of the most deservedly
distinguished ethicists of modern times," " a Chris
tian ethicist of superlative merit," expresses this
sentiment: "The propriety of discussing moral
questions apart from their natural and immediate
implication with Christian Truth, admits of the gravest
doubts." Wardlaw goes even further and asserts
D »
that, "The science of morals has no province at all
independently of theology, and it cannot be philo
sophically discussed except upon theological princi
ples." "Watson's final definition of the relation of the
two systems or methods is less extreme than this,
and accords very nearly with that given by WUTTKE
in section fourth of his Introduction.*
But whatever may be thought of philosophical
ethics, or of the exact relation of the two branches to
each other, no believer in Christian Revelation can
for a moment call in question the legitimacy of specifi
cally Christian Ethics. No Christian believer can
possibly speak his whole mind respecting man, the
ethical subject, or God, the author of our ethical
relations, or our destiny, the result of our ethical action,
without stating or implying all the fundamental doc-
* See "Institutes," Vol. II, bottom of p. 474.
INTRODUCTION. ix
trines of Christianity. Indeed, no man can elaborate
any ethical system of any considerable completeness
without definite and most important theological im-
plicajions. As a matter of fact, most of our accepted
text-books are thoroughly Deistic. They give us not
the Morals of Christianity, or of Judaism, or of
heathenism, but simply the ethical system of Lord
Herbert, or Theodore Parker. We are glad to
possess them, glad to see just what ethical consequence
Deism carries with it ; nevertheless we must repudiate
their claims to an exclusive occupancy of the field,
and especially their claims to represent the ethics of
Revelation. Their use in Christian schools is at least
of very doubtful expediency. Let every theological
system, even those of the heathen, develop its sup
plementary ethical system, only let it not attempt to
palm off its own ethical implication for those of wholly
different systems.
The value of any elaborate system of ethics is
largely in proportion to its fidelity to the theological
views and principles of its author. If we study an
atheistic system, we desire to ascertain precisely what
the logical results of atheism are in the field of
morals. This is the only special benefit we can hope
to gain from the study. So a modern Jewish, Mo
hammedan, or ethnic system is valuable in proportion
as it gives us the true ethical results of the particular
religion from which it springs. Thorough ethical
treatises are, therefore, to be welcomed from what-
X INTRODUCTION.
ever theological stand-point they may be written. If
thorough, they will serve the cause of truth. In the
way of reductio ad dbsurdum they will often evince
the untenableness of the theological principles upon
which they rest. So for as they spring from correct
theological conceptions, they will mutually comple
ment "and confirm each other.
The same thing may be said of systems of Christian
ethics written from different confessional stand-points.
Their value, too, is usually in proportion to their
logical consistency. One of their most important
uses is to throw light upon the necessary ethical con
sequences of their respective types of doctrine. In
this respect the most strictly confessional are the
most useful. In the interest of universal" Christian
theology, therefore, we greatly desiderate a thorough
and active confessional cultivation of this field. The
more clearly and constantly conscious of his distinc
tive doctrinal stand-point, the better service the
author will render. Nothing is gained, much lost,
by mixing up essentially Romish and essentially
Protestant definitions. In like manner Augustinian
ethics are as eternally distinct from Pelagian as are
the theological systems so named. If Methodist
theology be true, no consistent Calvin ist can ever
write a system of ethics acceptable to a Methodist,
and vice versa. Romanism, Calvinism, Lutheranism
and Methodism as much need distinctive treatises
upon ethics as upon Christian doctrine. Each has
INTRODUCTION. XI
the same right to the one as to the other. Nor will
they thus aggravate and prolong the dissensions and
divisions of the universal Church ; they will rather
accelerate the coining of the day when each great
branch of Christendom will have matured its distinct
ive thought and perfected its distinctive life, prepar
atory to a higher and grander synthesis. Even before
that day comes, each type of ethical inculcation will
ha^ye its essential and characteristic excellences, and
so effectively supplement all other types.
Especially welcome to the English reader must be
a thorough scientific presentation of Christian ethics
from the Lutheran stand-point. Hitherto none has
been accessible. The whole theological literature of
Lutheranism in the English language is deplorably
meager. Considering the historic interest and pres
ent relations of this great Church of the Reformation,
the deficiency is almost inexplicable. In this country
the actual numerical proportions of the communion,
its rapid growth from immigration, the close affinities
of its best theology and best life with the dominant
theology and life of the country, conspire to render its
teachings and spirit a study of great interest to every
intelligent American believer. Nor can the unedify-
ing controversies and schisms which have hitherto -so
excessively characterized the body, or even the high-
churchly self-complacency of such representatives as
the author of " The Conservative Reformation and
Xii INTRODUCTION.
its Theology." effectually prevent the Christians of
neighboring folds from cherishing a growing interest
in their ecclesiastical life, and in that of their confes
sional and ethnological kindred in the Fatherland.
An English translation of WUTTKE'S great work on
" Christian Ethics ' ' ought, therefore, to be warmly
welcomed on many accounts. First, for all the excel
lent reasons suggested by Dr. Biehm, at the close of
his special preface to Volume I of this translation.
Second, because as a work on Christian Ethics it
will contribute to the supply of what is perhaps the
gravest and most unaccountable lack in the whole
range of English theological literature.
Third, because it will have a tendency to stimulate
American and English moralists to a cultivation of
their science from evangelical, and possibly from
strictly confessional, stand-points.
Fourth, because by means of it the English student
will now, for the first time, have an opportunity to see
in full scientific form the ethical implications and in
culcations of modern evangelical Lutherauism.
For all these reasons, it affords the writer unfeigned
pleasure to bid the new-clad work God-speed, and to
commend it to the faithful study of all lovers of Chris
tian truth and holiness. WM. F. WARREN.
BOSTON UNIVERSITY, SCHOOL OF THEOLOGY, October, 1872.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
§ 50. CLASSIFICATION OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS 1
PAKT FIRST.
PURE ETHICS; OE, THE MORAL PER SE IRRESPECTIVELY
OF SIN.
INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS.
I. NOTION AND ESSENCK OF THE MORAL, § 51 5
§ 51. THE GOOD 5
§§ 52-54. THE MORAL 8-14
II. RELATION OF MORALITY TO RELIGION, §,55 15
III. SCIENTIFIC CLASSIFICATION OF ETHICS, §§ 56-57 23-29
CHAPTER I.
THE MORAL SUBJECT, § 58.
I. THE INDIVIDUAL MORAL SUBJECT, MAN, § 59 36
A. MAN AS A SPIRIT, § 59 36
§ 60. (1) THE COGNIZINO SPIRIT 41
§ 61. (2) THE VOLITIONATING SPIRIT, FREEDOM OF WILL. . . 45
§ 62. (3) THE FEELING SPIRIT 49
§ 63. (4) THE IMMORTAL SPIRIT 51
B. MAN AS TO HIS SENSUOUSLY- CORPOREAL LIFE, §§ 64-66. .59-64
O. THE UNITY OF SPIRIT AND BODY, § 67 67
§ 67. (1) THE STAGES OF LIFE 67
§ 68. (2) TEMPERAMENTS AND NATIONAL PECULIARITIES 71
§ 69. (3) THE SEXES 74
II. THE COMMUNITY-LIFE AS MORAL SUBJECT, §70 76
CHAPTER H.
GOD AS THE GROUND AND PROTOTYPE OP THE MORAL LIFE AND
AS THE AUTHOR OP THE LAW.
§ 72. (1) GOD AS HOLY WILL 82
§ 73. (2) GOD AS PROTOTYPE OF THE MORAL 85
xiv CONTENTS.
PAGE
§ 74. (3) GOD AS UPHOLDER OF THE MORAL WORLD-GOVERN
MENT 87
• § 75. (4) GOD AS HOLY LAW-GIVER 90
I. THE REVELATION OF THE DIVINE WILL TO MAN, § 76 92
(a) THE EXTRAORDINARY, POSITIVE, SUPERNATURAL REVE
LATION 92
§§ 77-78. (b) THE INNER REVELATION AND THE COX-
SCIENCE 96-99
II. THE ESSENCE OF THE MORAL LAW AS THE DIVINE WILL, § 79. 107
§ 79. (a) THE FORM OF THE LAW (COMMAND, PROHIBITION,
"OUGHT") ' 107
§ 80. (b) SCOPE OF THE LAW (REQUIREMENT, COUNSELS). ... 112
§ 81. (c) RELATION OF THE LAW TO THE PERSONAL PECUL
IARITY 118
§ 82. THE ALLOWED 122
§ 83. MORAL PRINCIPLES OR LIFE-RULES 133
§ 84. DUTY 136
§ 85. RIGHT 139
CHAPTER III.
THE OBJECT OP THE MOKAL ACTIVITY.
I. GOD, § 86 145
II. THE CREATED, § 87 149
§ 87. (1) THE MORAL PERSON HIMSELF 149
§ 88. (2) THE EXTERNAL WORLD. . . 151
§ 89. EXTERNAL NATURE 156
CHAPTER IV.
THE MORAX MOTIVE.
§ 90. PLEASURE AND DISPLEASURE 159
§ 91. LOVE AND HATRED 161
§92. ANTE-MORAL LOVE 1G3
§ 93. MORAL LOVE 168
§ 94. LOVE TO GOD 169
§ 95. GOD-FEARING . 171
§ 96. GOD-TRUSTING AND ENTHUSIASM 173
§ 97. HAPPINESS 175
CHAPTER V.
THTC MORAL ACTIVITY, § 89.
SUBDIVISION FIRST: THE MORAL ACTIVITY per se IN ITS INNER
DIFFERENCES, § 99 180
I. MORAL SPARING, § 100 . 182
CONTENTS. xv
PAGE
II. MORAL APPROPRIATING, § 1 01 186
(a) IN RESPECT TO WHAT ELEMENT OF THE OBJECT is APPRO
PRIATED, § 101 }S6
§ 102. (1) NATURAL APPROPRIATING 187
§ 103. (2) SPIRITUAL APPROPRIATING 190
(b) IN RESPECT TO HOW THE OBJECT is APPROPRIATED, § 104. . 191
(1) GENERAL (UNIVERSAL) APPROPRIATING, COGNIZING, § 104. 192
(2) PARTICULAR (INDIVIDUAL) APPROPRIATING, ENJOYING,
§ 105 194
III. MORAL FORMING, § 106 1 98
(a) IN RESPECT TO WHAT ELEMENT OF THE OBJECT is FORMED,
§ 107 200
§ 107. (1) NATURAL FORMING .*. 200
§ 108. (2) SPIRITUAL FORMING 201
(b) IN RESPECT TO HOW THE OBJECT is FORMED, § 109 203
§ 109. (1) PARTICULAR FORMING 203
§ 110. (2) GENERAL FORMING, ARTISTIC ACTIVITY 205
§§ 111, 112. APPROPRIATING AND FORMING AS MORALLY
RELATED TO EACH OTHER 210-212
SUBDIVISION SECOND : THK MORAL ACTIVITY IN RELATION TO if s
DIFFERENCES AS RELATING TO ITS DIFFERENT OBJECTS :
L IN RELATION TO GOD, § 113 214
(a) THE MORAL APPROPRIATING OF GOD, FAITH AND KNOWL
EDGE, § 113 214
§§ 114-117. PRAYER AND SACRIFICE 218-221
(b) THE MORAL SPARING OF THE DIVINE, § 118 232
II. IN RELATION TO THE MORAL PERSON HIMSELF, § 119 236
(a) MORAL SPARING, § 119 236
(b) MORAL APPROPRIATING AND FORMING, § 120 237
§§ 120. 121. (1) OF THE BODY BY THE SPIRIT 238-242
§ 122. (2) OF THE SPIRIT ITSELF 247
III. IN RELATION TO OTHER PERSONS, § 123 252
(a) MORAL SPARING, § 123 252
(b) MORAL APPROPRIATING AND FORMING, §§ 124-126 254-262
IV. IN RELATION TO OBJECTIVE NATURE, § 127 264
(a) MORAL SPARING, § 127 264
(b) MORAL APPROPRIATING.
§ 128. (1) 'SPIRITUAL 266
§ 129. (2) ACTUAL 267
(c) MORAL FORMING, § 130. 271
xvi CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
THE FRUIT OF THE MORAL LIFE AS MOEAL END.
iPiQB
§ 131. GOOD : 274
§ 132. THE HIGHEST GOOD 275
I. THE PERSONAL PERFECTION OP THE INDIVIDUAL, § 133 277
(a) OUTWARD POSSESSIONS, § 134 270
(6) INNER POSSESSIONS, § 135 280
§ 135. (1) WISDOM- 280
§ 136. (2) BLISS 283
§ 137. (3) HOLY CHARACTER 284
(c) THE GOOD AS«POWER, § 138 289
§ 138. VIRTUE 289
§ 139. THE VIRTUES 291
§ 140. THE PIETY- VIRTUES 297
II. MORAL COMMUNION AS A FRUIT OF THE MORAL LIFE, § 141 . . 302
(a) THE FAMILY, § 142 304
§ 142. SEXUAL COMMUNION 304
§§ 143. 144. MARRIAGE 304-306
§ 145. PARENTS AND CHILDREN >. 313
§ 146. BROTHERS AND SISTERS, AND FRIENDS 318
§ 147. BLOOD-EELATIONSHIP AS BEARING ON MARRIAGE 319
§ 148. FAMILY PROPERTY AND FAMILY HONOR 323
(b) MORAL SOCIETY, § 149 324
§ 150. HONOR, THE MORAL HOME 330
(c) THE MORAL ORGANIZATION OF SOCIETY, § 151 332
§ 151. RIGHT AND LAW 332
§ 152. CHURCH AND STATE, THEOCRACY 334
SECTION L.
THEOLOGICAL Christian ethics, as distinguished from
philosophical ethics, has an historical presupposition —
the redemption accomplished in Christ. But re
demption presupposes sin, from the power of which
it delivers man ; and sin presupposes the moral idea
per se, of which it is the actual negation. Hence
the knowledge of Christian ethics, as resting on the
accomplished redemption, presupposes a knowledge
of the moral state of man while as yet unredeemed,
as in turn this knowledge presupposes a knowledge
of that ideal state of being from which man turned
aside in sin. Christian ethics has therefore a three
fold state of things to present :
(1) The ethical or moral per se irrespectively of
sin, — the moral in its ideal form, the proto-ethical,
that which God, as holy, wills.
(2) The fall from the truly moral, namely, sin, or
the guilty perversion of the moral idea in the actual
world, — that which man, as unholy, wills.
(3) The moral in its restoration by redemption,
that is, the regeneration of moral truth out of sinful
corruption, — that which is willed by God as gracious,
and by man as repentant.
VOL. II— 2
2 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 50.
These three forms of the moral or ethical stand, in
relation to humanity, not beside but before and after
each other, — constitute a moral history of humanity :
the first stage is j>r0-historical ; the second is th'e sub
stance of the history of humanity up to Christ ; the
third is the substance of that stream of history which
proceeds from Christ and is embodied in, and carried
forward by, those who belong to Christ.
As in Christianity all religious and moral life stands in re
lation to the redemption accomplished in Christ, that is, to an
historical factt hence Christian ethics must also, under one
of its phases, bear an historical character. Man is Christianly-
moral only in so far as he is conscious of being redeemed by
Christ ; hence in this Christianly-moral consciousness the
abqve-stated three thoughts are directly involved. Only that
one can know himself as redeemed who knows himself as
sinful without redemption ; and only he can know himself as
sinful who has a consciousness of the moral ideal. The
classification of ethics here presented is based therefore in
the essence of Christian morality itself. The first division
presents ideal morality as unaffected as yet by the reality of
sin, — morality in the state of innocence ; the second presents
the actual morality of man as natural and spiritually-fallen, —
morality in the state of sin; the third presents the Christian
morality of man as rescued from sin by regeneration, and
reconciled to and united with God, — morality in the state of
grace. The first part is predominantly a steadily-progressive
unfolding of the moral idea per se ; the second belongs pre
dominantly to historical experience; while the third, as a
reconciling of reality with the ideal, belongs at the same
time to both fields. The historical person of Christ is, for all
three spheres of the moral, a revelation of the truth that is to
be embraced ; in relation to ideal morality Christ is the pure
moral prototype per se — the historical realization of the moral
idea; in relation to the moral state in the second sphere, he
manifests the antagonism of sin to moral truth, in the hatred
of which he is the object ; in relation to the third sphere, he
§ 50.] PURE ETHICS. 3
is the essentially founding and co-working power, and mani
fests the antagonism of holiness to sin.
To present distinctively-Christian morality alone would be
scientifically defective, as, without the two antecedent forms
of the moral, it cannot be properly understood. To present
ideal morality alone is the task of .purely philosophical ethics,
— usually, however, instead of the proposed pretendedly ideal
ethics, the result is simply an artfully disguised justifica
tion of the natural sinful nature of unredeemed man. The
ideal morality of our first division is in itself fully sufficient
only for such as do not admit an antagonism between the
actual state of humanity and the requirements of the moral
idea, or who explain it into a mere remaining-behind the sub
sequently to-be-attained perfection, instead of conceiving of
it as an essentially perverted state. The fundamental thought
of Christian morality is this, namely, that the natural man is
not simply normally imperfect, but that he is, guiltily, in an
essential antagonism to the truly good, and that he is in need
of a thorough spiritual renewing or regeneration. That this
is the case is not to be proved a priori, not to be developed
scientifically, but to be recognized as a fact. With -the reality
of sin the moral life becomes essentially changed, and an
ethical treatise which should make reference to sin only as a
mere possibility, as is the case with purely philosophical ethics,
would, for this reason, be insufficient for the actual state of
humanity. The history of humanity has become in all re
spects other than it would have been without sin, and hence a
complete system of ethics cannot have merely a purely phil
osophical, but must have also an historical character, — must
grapple with the entire and dread earnestness of real sin. If
it ended at this stage, however, it would present but a dismal
panorama of woe, utterly unrelieved by a gleam of comfort.
But divine love has interrupted the history of sin by an his
torical redemption-act, and founded a history of salvation
inside of humanity, — has given to man the possibility and the
power to overcome sin in himself, and to rise up from his
God-estrangement toward the moral goal. This is the third
sphere, that of distinctively Christian morality, which, while
it has indeed its prototype in the ideal ante-sinful form of
morality, is nevertheless not identical therewith, inasmuch as
4 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 50.
its actual presuppositions and conditions are entirely differ
ent,— namely, no longer a per se pure, and spiritually and
morally vigorous, subject, and no longer a per se good, and,
for all moral influences, open and receptive, objective world,
but, on the contrary, in both cases an obstinate resistance ; it
is in both respects therefore a morality of incessant struggle,
while that of our first division is rather the morality of a
simple detelopment ; — it is also not a mere pressing forward
out of an, as yet, incomplete and in so far, imperfect state,
but a real overcoming of actual immoral powers; and the
earnestness of the morality, as well as of the ethical system,
rises in proportion as we more deeply comprehend the inner
and essential ditference between the above-given three divis
ions of the subject-matter of ethics, as well as at the same
time their inner and historical connection.
This our distribution of the subject-matter of ethics, though
manifestly very accordant with the Christian consciousness,
has been assailed on many sides ; and especially have some
writers manifested great concern as to whence in fact we
could have any knowledge of this ideal and strictly-speaking
non-realized morality. Such an objection ought at least not
to be urged by those who think themselves able to construct
a system, even of Christian ethics, upon the mere facts of the
consciousness, or indeed upon a basis purely speculative.
But certainly all who conceive of sin as a something abso
lutely necessary, will of course have to regard our first divis
ion as a pure product of a dreamy imagination ; we contest,
however, to writers holding such an opinion, the right to deny
to a system of Christian ethics — which is throughout inspired
with the thought that sin is the ruin of men [Prov. xiv, 34]
and an abomination to the Lord [xv, 9]— the privilege of
treating upon and discussing that which God, as holy, requires
of his good-created children. As to whether for such dis
cussion we have also a source of knowledge, will appear as
we proceed.
PART FIRST.
THE MORAL PER SE IRRESPECTIVELY OF SIN.
(Dbsertwtiona.
I. NOTION AND ESSENCE OF THE MORAL.
SECTION LI.
THE moral idea rests upon that of purpose or end.
An end is an idea to be realized by a life-movement.
Whatever answers to an idea is good relatively to that
idea. Whatever answers to, and perfectly realizes, a
rational, and hence also a divine, idea, is good abso
lutely. All divine life and activity has a divine pur
pose ; whatever God brings to realization is therefore
absolutely good, — is in perfect harmony with the
divine will. — A nature-object is good per se and di
rectly, in virtue of the creative act itself; and what
ever is implied in it, as an end to be attained to by
development, is actually realized in fact by an inner
divinely-willed necessity. The essence of a rational
creature is per se likewise good ; but its full realiza
tion as that of a truly rational being, that is, its
rational end, is not directly forced upon it by natural
necessity, but is proposed to it as to be realized by its
own rational, and hence free, activity. The good
ness of a merely natural being lies in the necessarily
self-fulfilling purpose of God in the creature ; that
of a rational creature lies in the free, self-fulfilling,
6 CHRISTIAN ETHICS § 51.
through it, of the will of God to the creature. The
divine will is, in the latter case, not merely an end
for God, it is also a conscious end for the rational
creature. The good in general, in so far as it is a
conscious end for a rational creature, is a (concrete)
good. In as far as this good is unitary and perfect,
and hence perfectly answering to the divine will as
to the creature, it is the highest good, — which conse
quently must also be absolutely one and, for all
rational creatures, essentially the same, namely, their
fully attained rational perfection. Hence all rational
development of a rational creature aims at the reali
zation of the highest good.
As far back as in ancient Greece, philosophers have engaged
in the discussion of the notion of the good, and of the highest
good, and have proposed various definitions thereof, — those
of Aristotle being in the main correct. In and of itself the
question is quite simple ; it becomes difficult only when we
look upon the actual condition of man without fully taking
into account the antagonism of his reality with his ideal, and
are for that reason unable clearly to distinguish in human
aspirations the abnormal from the normal. As to the notion
of the relatively good, there is no dispute; it is always the
agreement of a reality with an idea or with another reality,
and hence is based on the thought of a mutual congruity of
the manifold. — The simple and true notion of the good is in
dicated in Gen. i, 3, 4, 31 ; [comp. 1 Tim. iv, 4]. God speaks
and it comes to pass; the reality is the perfect expression of
the divine thought and will, and hence, of its own ideal.
We have here the notion, not merely of the relatively good,
but of the absolutely good ; relatively good is every har
monizing or congruence of the different; absolutely good is
a harmonizing with God. Hence, first of all, God himself is
good and the prototype of all good [Psa. xxv, 8; Ixxxvi, 5;
Matt, xix, 17], — good relatively to himself, as being in per
fect harmony with himself, — good relatively to his creatures,
in that He sustains them in the form of life which He gave
§51.] PURE ETHICS. 7
them, that is, in their true peculiarities and autonomy, and
constantly manifests himself to them as their loving God and
Father [Psa. xxxiv, 9]. A creature is good in so far as it is
an image of God, — namely, such a revelation of the divine as
is conditioned by the normal peculiarity of the creature, —
and, from another point of view, in so far as its actual state
is in harmony with its essence, its ideal, and hence also (since
all creatures are created for each other) with the totality of
creation. Every thing that God created was "very good"
also in this respect, namely, that the different creatures con
stituted among themselves a perfectly concordant and har
monious whole; "it was not good that the man should be
alone," seeing that a finite creature is, in its very essence,
not a mere isolated individual, but should constitute a mem
ber of a community. Hence the expression lit3 has also the
signification of KeiAof, gratus, jucundus, suavis ; we attribute
this quality to an object as bearing upon ourselves in so far
as it harmonizes with and reflects our own peculiarities, — in
so far as we feel an affinity for it and are enriched and fur
thered by it in our life-sphere and activity. Hence, that is
truly good for man which contributes to the attainment of
his true, divinely-intended perfection, and hence, in the last
instance, this perfection itself. Now, a mere nature-object
possesses the good within itself as a necessary law, and can
not but realize it ; but a rational creature has it within itself
as a rational consciousness, as a free law, as a command, and
it may decline to realize it. In a nature-object the end ful
fills itself ; in a rational creature it is fulfilled only by the free
will of the same. Nature-objects are, in and of themselves,
an image of God ; but man was created not only in accordance
with the image of God, but also unto it, — has this image before
him as a goal to be attained to by free action, as a rational
task.
Whatever is good is good for some object, and is for the
same, in so far as actually appropriated by it, a good,. That
only can be a true good which is good absolutely, that is,
divine; all true goods are from God [James i, 17], and lead
to God. The idea of the highest good we propose here to de
termine, preliminarily, not as to its contents, but simply as
to its form. It cannot belong exclusively to any one phase
8 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§52.
of man's being, but must consist in the symmetrical comple
tion of his life as a whole; hence it cannot be simply the per
fection of his isolated individuality as such, but only as a
li\ing member of the living whole. Nor is the highest good
a merely relatively higher among many other less high goods,
otherwise the sum total of the former together with these
latter would amount to something higher still ; on the con
trary all goods collectively, as far as they are really such,
must be single elements of the highest good ; and the simple
fact that a particular object which I desire, and which hence
seems to me as a good, is adapted to be a manifestation or an
element of the highest good, is clear proof that it is a real,
and not a merely seeming, good. Whatever a man aims after
appears to him as a good ; whatever he shuns, as an evil ; and
rationality consists in the fact that he aim not at the seem
ingly, but at the really, good, and, in each single good, at
the highest good ; and this aiming is itself good. The highest
good is, consequently, the highest perfection of the rational
personality, or the perfect development of God-likeness, or,
in other words, the perfect agreement of the actual state of
man's entire being and life with his ideal, that is, with the
will of God, — which all are, in fact, only so many different
expressions for the same thing. Whatever contributes to
this highest end is good ; whatever leads from it is evil.
SECTION LII.
In so far as a rational creature realizes the good
rationally, that is, with a consciousness of the good
end, and with a free will, it is moral. The moral is
the good in so far as it is realized by the free will of
a rational creature; and. in this manifestation of ra
tional life, both the will, and also the action and the
(Mid, are moral ; and true morality consists in the com
plete harmony of these three elements. Morality is
therefore the life of a rational being who accom
plishes the good with conscious freedom, arid, hence,
works the harmony of existence, — as well the harmony
§ 52.] PURE ETHICS. 9
of its own being with God as also (and in fact there
by) the harmony of the being in and with itself and
with all other beings, in so far as they themselves are
in harmony with God. Morality, therefore, embraces
within itself two phases of rational life : on the one
hand, it preserves and develops the normal autonomy
and peculiarity of the moral subject, — does not let it
vanish into, or be absorbed by, God or the All, — for
there is harmony only where there is a distinctness
and individuality of the objects compared ; on the
other hand, it does not permit this difference to be
come an antagonism or contradiction, but preserves
it in unity, — shapes it into rational harmony. The
moral is therefore the beautiful in the sphere of ra
tional freedom. — is rationally self-manifesting free
dom itself. To be rational and to be moral is, in the
sphere of freedom, one and the same thing.
Moralness bears the same relation to the goodness of mere
nature-objects, as conscious freedom to unconscious necessity.
The goodness of creatures is not their rriere being, but their
life, for God whose image they are, is life ; God is not a God
of the dead but of the living. Hence the goodness of rational
creatures is essentially life also, and in this life morality real
izes the good. With this view of morality we may properly
enough speak also of a morality of God ; the fact that human
morality is really a progressive development of the image of
God, even presupposes this; moreover the Scriptures posi
tively express this thought, and there is no good ground for
explaining it away. God is good [nio] and upright; [fif-i;
Deut. xxxii, 4; Psa. xxv, 8]; hence our German hymn: "O
God, thou upright God ! " is strictly Biblical. God, as the
absolutely holy will, is perfect morality itself, inasmuch as
his entire being and activity are in perfect accord with his
will and essence, and inasmuch as his infinite justice and love
establish and uphold the harmony of life in the created uni
verse. God's morality is his holiness. For this reason God
10 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [g 53.
is also the perfect prototype and pattern of all morality ; " ye
shall therefore be holyf for I am holy " [Lev. xi, 45] ; also
virtue, aperi?, in the strict sense of the word, is attributed to
God [1 Pet. ii, 9; 2 Pet. i, 3]. Hence, man is moral not
merely in general, in that he makes God's will the law of his
life, but more specifically, in that he makes God's morality
his pattern. In God all good is also moral or holy ; in the
creature, all that is moral is also good, but all that is good is
not also moral.
Rothe objects to the more common notion of the moral,
because it embraces only the idea of the morally-good, but not
that of the moral in its secondary sense ; in his view a defini
tion of the moral should include also the morally-evil. It is
evidently proper, however, to confine a notion primarily to
the normal manifestation of its contents, and to treat the con
trary manifestation as an abnormal perversion. Surely, for
example, it would be too much to ask that the notion of the
rational be so conceived as to embrace also the irrational, —
that of organism, so as to include also disease. In fact the
'objection of Rothe has weight with him, chiefly for the rea
son that, in his system, evil is viewed not as a merely morbid
phenomenon, but on the contrary as a necessary transition-
state of development ; ia which case, of course, a definition
of the moral would have to include also evil.
SECTION LIII.
Though morality, as the free realizing of the good,
appears essentially in the sphere of the will, yet as
this will is a rational one, — the expression of a con
sciousness and of a love to the object of that con
sciousness,— hence, morality embraces the whole life
and being of the spirit in all its forms of manifesta
tion, as knowing, feeling, and willing. Moral know
ing \* faith, not only religions, but also rational faith
in general; moral feeling is pleasure in the good, and
love of it, and, on the other hand, displeasure in the
§ 53.] PURE ETHICS. 11
non-good ; moral willing is a striving after the reali
zation of the good. Morality itself, however, is not
one of these three, but always and necessarily the
union of all three of these phases of the spirit-life.
These three phases of the spirit-life are severally and col
lectively an expression of the union of the subject with
objective being, with the All in general, — in the final in
stance with God. The subject itself becomes also to itself
an object, and only thereby attains to its truth. The mere
isolatedness of a being is per se evil, is the opposite of true
existence and life, the ruin of life, that is, death, — is a disso
lution of the unitary collective life into indifferent ultimate
atoms. The individual exists in its truth only in so far as it
comes into union with the All ; this union is not its annihila
tion but its preservation, its recognition in the All as an
organic member of the same ; it is a mutual, vital relation, a
unity in diversity; and this is in fact the essence of life,
namely, that both the individual being and the collective
whole, in all its parts, stand in relation to each other, and
that, in this relation, the individual is, on the one hand, as
a member, quite as fully at one with the whole, as, on the
other, it is an integral being of itself.
In actively knowing, man brings the object into relation
to himself, — takes it up, in its idea, spiritually into himself;
in feeling, the subject brings himself in this spiritual appro
priation into relation to himself, — embraces the appropriated
object as in harmony or as in disharmony with his own be
ing and character, that is, as pleasing or displeasing ; in
willing, the subject assumes an active determining relation
toward the approvingly or disapprovingly received object;
hence, the will rests on feeling, as in turn, feeling on knowl
edge, though the latter may be obscure and only half-con
scious. In each of these three respects the spirit may be
more or less free or unfree ; in so far so it is free, it is also
moral. It is true, knowing and feeling are primarily un
free, — they press themselves directly upon the essentially
passive subject without his voluntary co-operation, and in
so far as this is the case they are as yet extra-moral ; but the
12 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 53.
moment they appear as freely willed they enter into the
moral sphere, and this is their higher, rational form. Know
ing is moral when we will to know rationally, that is, when
we embrace isolated being, whether that of objective nature
or of ourselves, as not existing for itself in its isolation, but
on the contrary, when, passing beyond its isolatedness, we
conceive it as having ultimately a divine ground, — in other
words, when we associate all individual being with the in
finite being and life of God, and thus conceive all existence
as unitary and as established by God. Now, this passing
beyond the individual object is not an unfree process ; the
object does not force us to do so, much rather it arrests us at
its own immediate reality ; but it is bur rational nature that
induces us to will to pass beyond. Knowing becomes moral
when it becomes a pious consciousness, — assumes a religious
character; and this pious associating of the finite with the
infinite \s faith, which is in its very essence religious. Faith
can never be compelled by a presentation of arguments ; in
all its forms it is a voluntary matter ; and from the simple
fact that faith is a moral knowing, and hence includes within
itself willingness and love, it is consequently not a mere
knowing, not a mere holding-for-true ; hence it may be, and
is, a moral requirement. Without this willingness to find and
acknowledge the divine in infinite objects, there is no
knowledge of God, and hence no real rationality of knowl
edge. Though faith is essentially religious, nevertheless,
springing forth from this source, it overflows and fructifies
with its moral potency the entire field of rational knowledge.
By virtue of this faith we have confidence in the truthfulness
of the universe,— confidence that truth is discoverable, that
the laws of our mind and the impressions made upon us by
the external world are not untrue and defective, that divine
order and conformity to law, and hence conformity to reason,
pervade the universe, so that, consequently, we may rely on
this order and this conformity to law. Without such a faith,
without such a confidence independently of all presentation
of evidence, there could be no knowledge — no possibility of
a spiritual life in general. Without this confidence we
would be unable to avoid suspecting poison in every cup of
water, in every morsel of bread, — we would tremble lest, at
§ 53.] PURE ETHICS. 18
every step, the ground might give way beneath our feet.
Fondness of doubting presupposes depravity; skepticism
proper, like the arts of sophistry, is an immoral dissolution
of rational knowledge ; under the skeptic's eye, both the
spiritual world and the realm of nature fall apart into lifeless
ultimate atoms.
In so far as feeling is simply a direct consciousness of such
an impressed state of the subject, it is as yet extra-moral,
because unfree ; it becomes rational and moral through free
dom on the basis of the religious consciousness, — namely,
when I do not permit myself to be determined by finite
things in an absolutely passive manner, but, on the contrary,
when I subordinate all my states of feeling to the power of
faith or of the religious consciousness, — in a word, when I
rise so far into the sphere of freedom as to have pleasure only
in that which is God-pleasing, and displeasure only in the
ungodly, — when my love to finite things is only a phase of
my love to God.
The will, the more immediate sphere of the moral, is in
itself likewise not as yet moral, but must first become so.
Free will, as distinguished from the unfree impulse of the
brute, is primarily as yet devoid of positive contents, — is
only the possibility, but not the actuality, of the moral. It
becomes a really free and, hence, a moral will only by com
ing into relation to faith, namely, in that it ceases to be a
merely individual will determined solely by the isolated per
sonality of the subject, — for, as such, it is as yet simply
irrational and animal, — and furthermore in that it imbues
itself with a positive faith, — determines itself by its God-
consciousness and by its love to God, — so that thus, passing
beyond mere finite being, it bases its outgoings on a rational
faith in the infinite. This is so wide-reaching a condition
of the moral will, that even an evil will (which also lies
within the sphere of the moral) is determined by a certain
faith-consciousness, seeing that such a will is a rebelling
against its God-consciousness ; " devils also believe " in God's
existence " and tremble " [James ii, 19] ; the degree of guilt
is strictly determined by the degree in which God is known.
Hence the will is morally good when it rests on faith, — when
it strives to realize the God-pleasing 1 ecause of its God-con-
14 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 54.
sciousness and of its love to God ; and it is morally evil when,
despite its God-consciousness, it aims at the ungodly, — seeks
to divorce finite beings, and especially its own, from its
union with God. Hence in general terms, though morality
has its essential sphere in the will, yet it also embraces, as
intimately involved therein, the spheres of knowledge and of
feeling.
SECTION LIV.
As the life of a rational spirit is continuous, name
ly, a continuous free activity, hence it bears contin
uously a moral character. Morality is not simply a
succession of single moral points, it is an uninter
rupted life, and every moment of the same is either
in harmony or in antagonism with the moral end, —
is either good or evil. In the entire life of man
there is not a single morally indifferent -moment or
state.
Man is God's image only in so far as he lives this God-like
ness, for God is life, and all life is continuous ; a real inter
ruption of the same is its destruction, — is death. Sleep is only
a change in the manifestation of life, arising from the union
of the spirit with material nature, but not a real interruption
of the same. Spirit sleeps not; also the slumbering spirit is
moral, — may be pure or impure ; the soul of the saint cannot
have unholy dreams; dreams are often unwelcome mirrorings
forth of impure hearts; when Jacob rebuked nis son Joseph
for his supposed ambitious dream [Gen. xxxvii, 10], his moral
judgment was quite correct, — simply his hypothesis was erro
neous. Any assumption that there are morally indifferent
moments in life is anti-moral. And that there are, in fact, in
the natural life of man middle states between life and death, —
for example, swoons,— is of itself a fruit of depravity, and in
the same sense that death is such. Morality is the health of
the rational spirit; and every interruption of health is disease.
God's will is incessantly binding; there is absolutely nothing
conceivable which would not either harmonize with, or antag-
ouize, it.
§ 55.] PURE ETHICS. 15
II. RELATION OF MORALITY TO RELIGION.
SECTION LV.
The religious consciousness, — which expresses the
couditionment of our being and life by God, and which,
as a state of heart, is piety, — is necessarily and inti
mately connected with morality, so that neither is
possible without the other; yet they are not identi
cal. Religion and morality, both, bring man into
relation to God. In religion, however, his relation
is rather of a receptive character, — he permits the
divine to rule in him ; in morality he is more self-
active, he reflects forth the God-pleasing from within
himself. In religion he exalts himself to communion
with God; in morality he evidences this communion
by developing the divine image both in himself and
in the external world. In religion he turns himself
away from finite individuality and multiplicity, and
toward the unitary central-point of all life ; in mo
rality he turns himself from this divine life-center as
a basis, toward the periphery of created being, —
from unity toward multiplicity, — in order to manifest
the former in the latter. The two movements cor
respond to the double life-stream in every natural
organism, and hence they are simply two inseparably
united phases of one and the same spiritual life ; and
the very commencement of spiritual life involves the
union of them both. In religion and in morality
God glorifies himself no less than in creation, — in
religion for and in man, in morality through man ;
and the moral man, in that he fulfills God's will in
and for the world, actually accomplishes the divine
16 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§55.
purpose in creation. — the free moral activity of man
being, in fact, the divinely-willed continuation and
completion of the work of creation.
The consciousness that we, as separate individuals, have
no absolutely self-sufficient and independent existence and
rights, as also that we are not simply dependent on other
finite powers, but, on the contrary, on an infinite divine first
cause, is of a religious character ; and the spiritual life that
develops itself on the basis of this consciousness is the relig
ious life. In so far, however, as it is a disposition or state of
heart, that is, in so far as it expresses itself in the feeling of
love to God and in the thence-arising habit of will, it is piety,
— in which form it assumes directly also the character of
morality. A pious life is per se also a moral one ; and morality
is the practical outgoing of piety. Religion and morality are
therefore most closely and inseparably associated ; as morality
rests on the recognition that the good is either the actual state
or the final destination of all existence, and as this recogni
tion, even in its rudest forms, is of a religious character (since
the "good" can have no meaning save as the divine ultimate
destination of creation), hence morality without religion is
impossible, and its character rises and falls with the clear
ness and correctness of the religious consciousness. He
who despises religion is also immoral ; and the immoral
man is also correspondingly irreligious ; all immorality is a
despising of God, since it is a despising of the good as the
God-like. As now, on the other hand, religion is a believ
ing, and hence a free, loving recognition of the divine, and
as it places man in a living relation with God, hence all
religion is per se also moral, and religion without morality is
inconceivable.
Thus, whatever is moral is religious, and whatever is re
ligious is moral; and yet these two are not identical; every
religious life includes in itself a moral will, and every moral
action contains a religious element, — implies religious faith ;
"without faith it is impossible to please God" [Heb. xi, 6J.
This looks like a contradiction utterly irreconcilable save by
making religion and morality absolutely one and the same
thing. Things, however, that are indissolubly associated, as,
§ 55.] PURE ETHICS. 17
for example, heat and light in the rays of the sun, need not
for that reason be identical. In the .religiously-moral life
two things are always united : our individual personality as a
relatively self-dependent legitimate entity, and the recogni
tion of God as the unconditioned ground of our entire being
and life, — that is to say, an affirming and also a relative
negating of our separate individuality, an active and a pas
sive element. Both are equally true and important ; the one
calls for the other, and either, taken separately for itself,
would be untrue ; the two must exist in harmony and unity.
The passive phase — the emphasizing of the being of God in
the presence of which individual being retires into the back
ground and appears only as conditioned and dependent — is
the religious phase of the spiritual life; the active phase —
that is, the emphasizing of the personal element by virtue of
which man appears, as an initiative actor with the mission, as
a free personality, of carrying farther forward in the spiritual
sphere the creative work of God — is the moral phase. The
religious life is, so to speak, centripetal ; moral life, as radi
ating out from the , middle-point, is centrifugal ; the former
corresponds, in the spiritual life, to the functions of the
veins of the body ; the latter is more like the arteries, which,
receiving from the lungs, through the heart, the vitalized
out-gushing blood, distribute it nourishingly and produc
tively through the body, and ramify themselves out toward
the periphery, whereas the veins conduct it back from the
outermost ramifications toward the center. In correspond
ence to this figure, the separate outgoings of the moral life
are more manifold than are the center-seeking manifestations
of the religious life. Hence piety, by its very nature, tends to
a communion of pious life-expression, to the social worship of
God ; but in morality the person comes into prominence more
in his self-dependent individuality : in the sphere of morality,
moral communion rests more on the moral individuals ; in that
of piety, the pious personality rests more upon pious com
munion and upon the spirit which inspires this communion.
In the moral sphere, Christ says to the individual: " Go thou
and do likewise; " in that of religion he says: "Where two
or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the
midst of them./' Secret prayer does not conflict with this,
VOL. II— 3
18 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 55.
for it is only one phase of piety ; the piety of the recluse is
simply morbid.
Religious life is only then genuine when it is at the same
time also moral, — Avhen it does not in Pantheistico-mysticai
wise dissolve and merge the individual into God ; the one-
sidedly religious life which lightly esteems outward morality
entangles itself inevitably in this quietistic renunciation of
personality. Moral life is healthy only when it is at the same
time also religious, — when the person does not assume to live
and act as an isolated being from an unconditioned autonomy
of its own independently of God ; it is, however, as dis
tinguished from the religious life, essentially a virtualizing
of liberty. The one-sidedly moral life, that is, the attempt
to virtualize personal freedom without religion, leads to the
reverse of the morally-religious life — to haughtiness of per
sonality as of an absolutely independent power, to an athe
istic idolizing of the creature, and, in practice, to a throwing
off of all obligation that conflicts with "personal enjoyment.
The moral life is therefore true and good only when the
virtualization of the freedom and independence of the per
son is rational, that is, essentially religious ; and it becomes
morally evil so soon as it asserts its freedom as unconditioned
and apart from God.
Piety and morality consequently mutually condition each
other, — develop themselves in no other way than in union
with each other. It is true, the first beginning of the relig
iously-moral life is, in so far, the religious phase, as all re
ligion rests upon a revelation of God to man, that is, upon a
receiving, and not upon a personal doing; but this revelation
is only then our own, the contents of our religious spirit,
when we embrace it in faith, and this embracing is a free, a
moral activity. Hence even the first incipiency of the ra
tional, the morally-religious life includes in immediate and
necessary union both phases of the same, so that, though in
logic we may speak of the one as being antecedent to the
other, yet in point of reality we cannot so speak. Should
this seem enigmatical to the understanding, still it is no more
enigmatical than is the nature of all and every life-beginning;
and just as little as Mre can deny the reality of the beginning
of man's natural life, for the reason that it is absolutely hid-
PUKE ETHICS. 19
den and mysterious — so that we can neither say that the
material being of the same is antecedent to its spiritual power
nor the converse, — even so little can we hope to solve the
mystery of the beginning of the religiously-moral life, by as
suming the one or the other of its phases as the first and
fundamental one. The plant, in developing itself out of its
embryo, grows upward and downward almost simultaneously ;
if it is insufficiently rooted it fades ; if it cannot grow upward
it decays ; the sending out of roots corresponds to religion ;
the development into foliage and fruit, to morality. Also in
the further development of the rational life these two phases
are constantly associated, and in their associated unity and
harmony consists the spiritual health of man. We are relig
ious in so far as we recognize that God is the unconditioned
ground of our being and moral life ; moral, in so far as by our
free life we confess in acts that God is fer us the absolute rule
of action, — that we are free accomplishes of the divine will.
In religion, God is for us ; in morality, we are for God ; in
the former God is manifested to us ; in the latter God is mani
fested in and through us. "I live, yet not I, but Christ
liveth in me " [Gal. ii, 20] ; this is the essence of Christian
morality. "As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they
are the sons of God " [Rom. viii, 14] ; that is, religion is the
vitality of morality, and morality the factive life-manifesta
tion of religion, and consequently of divine sonship. " Fear
God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty
of man" [Eccl. xii, 13; comp. Deut. x, 12]; hence the fear
of God is the ground and beginning of moral wisdom; "this
is the fear of God, that we keep his commandments " [1 John
v, 3], According to the uniform tenor of Scripture, religion
and morality go always hand in hand ; this is aptly expressed
by Luther in his Catechism : " We should fear and love God,
in order that," etc. ; the fear of God necessarily involves the
keeping of the commandments, and this fear is itself of moral
character, as is implied by the very word "should" ; "if
thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door" [Gen. iv, 7].
Hence the usual Scripture expression for morality is : "to
walk before God " [Gen. xvii, 1 ; xxiv, 40], that is, to act out
of a full consciousness of the holy and almighty One, in full
trust and love to Him ; or : "to walk with God " [Gen. v,
20 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 55.
22, 24; vi, 9], to "keep the way of the Lord" and "do
justice and judgment" [Gen. xviii, 19], "to walk in God's
ways," "to serve the Lord" and "to keep his command
ments and statutes " [Deut. x, 12] ; and God's exhortation to
the progenitor of the Israelites is: "I am the Almighty
God, [therefore] walk before me and be thou perfect " [Gen.
xvii, 1].
-The glorifying of God in religion and morality is the com
pleting of his glorification in nature. In religion, God per
mits the man who comes into living communion with Him,
to behold his glory ; in morality God permits men to show
forth his glory — to let their light shine before others that
they also may praise the Father in heaven. The will of God
in creation was not as yet fulfilled at the conclusion of the
creative act. " Let us make man in our image, after our like
ness," — but this image is God-like, not in its mere being, but
only in its rational, moral life. God created the world for
rational creatures, in order that for them and through them
his image might be manifested in creation, — that is to say, in
the interest of moral development. Hence sin is treachery
against God, an infringement on his honor. Morality looks
to the honor, not of man, but of God ; it is per se a serving
of God, and all divine service or worship is a moral act.
The relation of religion to morality is often stated quite dif
ferently from the view here presented. The more important
of these views are the following four :
(1) Religion and morality are totally identical. In develop
ing this view, the one is necessarily reduced to the other,
(a) Morality is entirely merged into religion — the view of all
consistent mysticism ; man has nothing to do but to give him
self entirely over to God ; and wisdom consists not in acting,
but, on the contrary, in renouncing all practical activity (Eck-
nrt, Tauler, Molinos). (b) Religion is entirely merged into
morality. Morality is directly in and of itself true religion;
to be moral is identical with being pious ; outside of virtue
there is no piety which is not only not simply associated with
virtue, but which is not, in fact, itself virtue ; — the view of the
worldly-minded in general, and, particularly, of the "illumin-
ism " of the eighteenth century.
(2) Religion and morality are in their entire nature radically
§ 55.] PUKE ETHICS. 21
different, and hence entirely independent of each other; the
one may exist without the other. This is the view of all the
naturalistic systems of recent date. It is at once refuted by
the simple fact that the different religions have given rise to
correspondingly different systems of morality. — In approxima
tion to this view, Rothe affirms (Ethik, I, Seite, 191, sqq.) at
least a predominant non-dependence of the two spheres on each
other.
His position is as follows : — Morality and piety, while
not entirely different, are yet relatively independent and self-
based. Each has indeed a certain relation to the other, and
there is no morality which is not, in some degree, also piety ;
both have the same root, namely, the personality ; but the two
form, nevertheless, independent branches strictly coetaneous.
The consciousness of this relative independence of morality
belongs among the inalienable conquests of recent culture, —
namely, the consciousness that an individual human life may
be relatively determined by the idea of the moral, nay, even by
the idea of the morally good, or, more definitely, by the idea
of human dignity and of humanity, without at the same time
being determined by the idea of God, — and indeed in such a
manner that it shall possess this idea of the moral as not de
rived to it from the idea of God. The Christian moralist can
not refuse to recognize this consciousness. The misconception,
that morality can rest on no other basis than the religious
relation, would at once vanish, could moralists determine to
keep distinct the moral sensu medio, from the morally-good.
For, that there can be moral evil on a basis other than a re
ligious one, will of course be questioned by none. It is true,
when strictly understood or comprehended, the idea of the moral
cannot arise apart from the idea of God.^-These last two state
ments of Rothe undermine his entire position ; for the ques
tion here is not at all as to evil, but exclusively as to the
morally-good ; and it is hardly possible that any one would
argue thus : Because evil can exist without religion, therefore
also the good can exist without religion. Moreover, in admit
ting that without religion man can be morally-good only rela
tively, but not truly, Rothe implicitly admits also that morality
is in fact not a something existing alongside of religion and
in real independency of it; consequently the above-assumed
22 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§55.
morality that is independent of religion, is but mere appear
ance.
(3) Religion is the first, the lasis, also in point of time ;
while morality is the second, the sequence. This is the most
usual, also ecclesiastical, view ; and as applied to Christian
morality it is also undoubtedly correct, since here the ques
tion is as to being redeemed from a presupposed immoral
state; in which case, of course, the religious back-ground
forms the basis of the renewal, from which, as a starting-
point, the moral will, in general, must rise to freedom. Where,
however, the moral life does not presuppose a spiritual re
generation, there no moment of the religious life is con
ceivable in which it does not also contain in itself the moral
element, — thus absolutely precluding the idea of a prece
dency of one to the other; moreover, even in the spiritual
regeneration of the sinner, the process of being morally laid
hold upon by the sanctifying Spirit of God, issues directly
into a willing, and hence moral, laying hold upon the ottered
grace of God.
(4) Morality is the first, the basis, while religion is the
second, the sequence, also in point of time; the moral con
sciousness of the practical reason is the ground upon which
the God-consciousness springs up ; — so taught the school of
Kant, and in part, also, Rationalism. This view, in its practi
cal application, coincides largely with that one which merges
the religious into the moral. It is true, appeal is made to
the passage in John vii, 7: "If any one will do his will,"
etc. ; here, however, the question is not as to the religious
consciousness in general, but as to the recognition of Christ
as the Messenger of God. But whoever purposes to do the
will of God, must have a consciousness of God already.
From the intimate unity of religion and morality, which
we have insisted upon, results readily the solution of the
question, as to how and whence we can have a knowledge
of the moral condition of humanity as pure and unfalleu.
The sources of a knowledge of religion are at the same time,
also, the sources of an acquaintance with morality ; and re
ligion throws light not only upon what has transpired and
now is, since the fall, but also upon what preceded all sin.
Thus we have for morality in general, as well as for the con-
§ 56.J PURE ETHICS. 23
sideration of tnorality irrespectively of sin, the following
sources of information: — 1. The rational, morally-religious
human consciousness, both as it is yet extant even in the
natural man, and also, as it is enlightened by divine, grace in
the redeemed. — 2. The historical revelation of God in the
Old and New Testaments. Although as bearing upon the
moral sphere Revelation relates predominantly to the actual
sinful condition of humanity, yet it contains also, at the same
time, the holy will of God to man per se. The moral law of
Christ, "Thou shalt love thy God," etc., is in fact absolutely
valid, not only for such as are as yet implicated in sin, but
also for man per se, and irrespectively of sin ; moreover, it is
not difficult for the Christian who has become acquainted
with the divine economy of grace to distinguish, in the di
vine precepts, that which is intended for the chastening and
discipline of the sinner, from that which is morally binding
per se. — 3. From the personal example of Him who knew no
sin, from the holy humanity of the Redeemer. — So much here
merely preliminarily.
HI. SCIENTIFIC CLASSIFICATION OF ETHICS.
SECTION LVI.
The usual distribution of the subject-matter of
ethics into the doctrine of goods, of virtues, and of
duties, does not answer the nature of this science, as
these are not different parts of the whole, but only
different modes of contemplating one and the same
thing, — modes which are so intimately involved in
each other, that such a classification inevitably in
volves, on the one hand, an unnatural severing of
the subject-matter, and, on the other, manifold rep
etitions of the same thought. All the various articu
lations of this science into the mere discussion of
virtues, duties, and goods, according to the different
classes and subdivisions of particular virtues, duties,
24 CHRISTIAN ETUICS. [§ 56.
and goods, come short of exhausting the subject-
matter, and must therefore involve the throwing of
other important ethical considerations into an intro
duction or some other subordinate position.
Among the various classifications of the matter of ethics, the
above-mentioned is in recent times the more usual ; it is
adopted by Schleiermacher, though only in his Philosophical
Ethics, and it is applied by Rothe to Theological Ethics also.
In both of these writers, the importance of such a classifica
tion lies in the thought of the working of reason upon nature,
in which morality is by them made to consist. The goal of
this working, namely, the positive harmony of nature and rea
son, is the good; the power of reason which works this good,
is virtue; the mode of procedure for working the good, the
directing of the activity toward it, is duty.* This view, ir
respectively of the so-strongly emphasized thought of Rothe,
of the good as a harmony of (material) nature and reason, —
which is utterly inapplicable to Christian morality, — is in fact
valid also for Christian ethics (Schwarz). In Christ's words:
" Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and
all these things [temporal goods] shall be added unto you"
[Matt, vi, 33], are comprehended both the highest good and
the single goods, duty and virtue, — the latter being embraced
in "righteousness," though righteousness is indeed more than
virtue. There is a difference between the goal to be reached,
the way or movement toward it, and the power of the subject
which conditions this movement ; still it does not follow from
this that the entire subject-matter of ethics can be organically
and exclusively distributed on this basis. The antithesis of
duties and goods could be most easily carried out, since the
producing activity and the produced result are clearly dis
tinguishable. But even here the difficulty arises, that true
good, and hence, of course, also happiness (as Aristotle very
justly remarks), is not an inert result but an activity ; but
every activity, if it is rational, must be the expression of a moral
idea, the realizing of a duty ; so that we are brought to the at
*Schl*irm. Syst., p. 71 tqq. ; Grundlinien, 1803, p. 175 sqq; ifb. d.
Legriffdtt hocfotcn Gutea, Werke III, 2, 447 sqq. Conip. §. 48.
§56.] PURE ETHICS. 25
first strange-seeming conclusion, that dutiful acting is itself a
part of the being and essence of the good, — is in one respect
itself a good. The family, the church, the state, etc., are
goods ; but these all are conditioned not merely on dutiful act
ing, — they themselves are a purely moral life, — consist, strictly
speaking, in a collectivity of moral actions, although not solely
therein. If we once abstract these actions, there remains
neither family nor state nor church ; these are not mere empty
spaces in which moral acting takes place, but they are them
selves incessantly generated by this acting, and without it
would not exist, — just as the fiery ring of a revolved torch is
not an entity per se, but exists alone by virtue of the motion.
Hence the visible embarrassment of the ethical writers in ques
tion as to where they shall treat, for example, of family and
political duties, whether under the head of duties proper or
of goods. — Still more embarrassing is it in the discussion of
the virtues. That virtue is per se a good, being an end to be
acquired by moral effort, is perfectly evident, and is so ad
mitted by Schleiermacher (Werke, III, 2, 459) ; also in the
above-cited utterance of Christ, righteousness appears as a
goal of effort, as an element of the essence of the kingdom of
God [comp. Phil, iv, 8J ; we a-nn at virtue, and we possess vir
tues; but every possession is a good. Now as goods are of
course not merely objective, — as indeed the highest good of
Christians, the possession of the kingdom of God, comes not
with outward observation but is of a strictly inward char
acter [Luke xvii, 20, 21],— hence it is plain that virtue is
also a good; as indeed the kingdom of God consists "in
power " [1 Cor. iv, 20], and hence by its very nature includes
in itself virtue. Hence the doctrine of goods cannot be dis
cussed without treating also of virtue. On the other hand, a
merely dormant power is in reality nothing at all; the reality
of a power is its outgoing, — the reality of virtue is moral
action, that is, the fulfilling of duty. It is not possible, there
fore, to discuss the virtues without at the same time treating
of all the duties, and vice versa, Hence the distribution of
ethics above-mentioned can be adhered to only so long as
the discussion lingers in generalities and avoids the par
ticular.
Schleiermacher and Rothe, in fact, admit that the three
26 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 56.
divisions, goods, virtues, and duties, are not, in reality, dif
ferent parts of, but only a three-fold manner of viewing, the
same object, — yet in such a manner that in each of the three
the other two are included, if not expressly, at least sub
stantially. The doctrine of goods, of virtues or of duties,
embraces, either of them, according to Schleiermacher, when
fully developed, the whole of ethics (Syst., p. 76 sqq.). The
classification in question can therefore be carried out only by
arbitrarily leaving some of the divisions imperfectly discussed.
Particular goods, says Rothe, do not spring from the working
of a particular virtue and through the fulfilling of a particu
lar duty, but on the contrary no single one is realized other
wise than through the co-working of all the virtues and
through the fulfilling of all the duties, and each single virtue
contributes to the realization of all the goods, and is condi
tioned on the fulfilling of all the duties, and each particular
virtue contributes in turn to every dutiful manner of action
(i, 202). Irrespectively of the fact that the latter declara
tions are too sweeping, — seeing that, for example, the family
may often exist as a good without the virtue of courage, of
industry, etc., and that courage may exist apart from the ful
fillment of the family duties, etc., — still it is quite evident
that if either of the three divisions in question were really
and completely, and not merely in general, carried out, there
would remain nothing for the other divisions save a few gen
eral observations. The family, for example, is a good only
in so far as it has domestic love for its basis, and, in point
of fact, Ilothe treats of domestic love among the goods ; but
what remains then to be said of it in treating of the virtues
and duties? The remarkable scantiness of Schleiermacher's
discussion of duties is itself evidence of an erroneous classi
fication. And Rothe obtains for his discussion of duties (in
fact confessedly finds any occasion whatever therefor) simply
because, as he says, reference is there to be had to si/i, so that
the discussion of duties becomes essentially the portrayal of
struggle. But this admission destroys the very basis of the
classification; — were it not for sin, a discussion of duties
would not be possible, whereas the basis of this classification
has not the least reference to sin. If Schleiermacher, after
speaking, in his first part, of chastity and unchastity, had
§ 56.] PURE ETHICS. 27
then in his second part spoken of chastity as among the vir
tues, — which his plan required of him, but which he does not
do — and in his third part fully discussed the duties of chastity,
then in order to carry out his classification he would have
had to reiterate the same matter three times. — Rothe speaks
in very strong expressions against those who do not adopt
this classification, affirming that all previous ethical teaching
and phraseology have been erroneous, and have ignored the
fact that even every-day parlance makes a difference between
being virtuous and acting dutifully; — as if common usage does
not, just as frequently and just as correctly, speak also of
acting virtuously and being true to duty! Oddly enough it
seems, in the face of this so-deemed "imperishable desert " of
Schleiermacher in regard to this classification, that Schleier-
macher himself — clearer-sighted here than Rothe — does not
apply it to his own Christian Ethics ; and not only that, but
he even declares it inadmissable here, — seeing that a descrip
tion of virtue and a description of the kingdom of God as the
highest good, cannot possibly be kept separate, inasmuch as
virtue is simply a "habitus" generated by the Holy Spirit
as indwelling in the kingdom of God ; nor can Christian
ethics, in his opinion, be treated under the head of duties,
seeing that no one duty can be discussed save in and with
the totality of all the duties, and hence in connection with
the idea of the kingdom of God (Chr. Sitte., p. 77 »qq.}. And
the same might also be said against the application of this
classification to Philosophical Ethics.
If this classification of general ethics into the doctrines of
goods, of virtues and of duties, is practically untenable, much
more is it inapplicable to Christian Ethics, since it lacks one
essential Christian thought, that of the divine law. Schleier
macher presented no discussion of the law, as he wrote wholly
irrespectively of the idea of God ; and for this reason alone
his classification Avould be inapplicable to Christian Ethics.
For duty is not identical with the law. The law is objective,
duty subjective ; the law is the moral idea per se in its definite
form, as thought, as universally valid — the will of God in
general ; duty is the subjective realization of the law for a
particular individual under particular circumstances, — relates
per se always to the strictly particular, the actual. The law
28 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 56.
is valid always, and under all circumstances; duty varies
largely according to time and circumstances ; the very same
mode of action which is to-day my duty, may be to-morrow,
contrary to my duty ; — to-day my duty is silence, to-morrow
I must speak. The law is categorical, duty is usually hypo
thetical ; the former is the expression of divine morality, the
latter of human. So also is the relation of goods to virtue;
the former are more the general, objective phase ; the latter
is more the particular, personal, subjective phase ; virtue is
the subjective possession of a moral power the product of
which is objective good. In the Old Testament the moral
life-movement went over from the divine objective will,
namely, the law, to the human subject in order to bring the
latter into possession of the highest good ; in the Christian
world the moral life-movement goes out from the subject as
being already in union with God, and already in possession
of the everlasting good, and directs itself to the objective
realization of God-like being, — from the inward possession of
the kingdom of God to the objective manifestation and realiz
ation of the same.
Of other scientific classifications, we will say but little.
The older popular division of the subject-matter of ethics
according to the Ten, Commandments, was a form very wrell
adapted for popular Christian instruction, and, indeed, by
giving a large construction to the more immediate scope
of these commandments, it admits of the treatment of
all evangelically-ethical thoughts: it does not, however,
suffice for a scientific development of Christian ethics, seeing
that this series of commands was constructed primarily for
merely practical purposes ; very essential points, such as the
moral essence of man and of the good, and (as parts of the
latter) of the state and the church, would have to be thrown
into introductory or collateral remarks. — The classification
according to our duties to God, to our neighbor, and to our
selves, while in fact embracing the whole circle of duties,
yet requires likewise too much of the essential matter to be
thrown into an introduction. — Harless makes the divisions,
the good itself, the possession of the good, and the preserva
tion of the good; but by "good" he understands rather the
antecedent condition than the goal of the moral life; by
§57.] PURE ETHICS. 29
" possession," more the obtaining and preserving of the pos
session; and by "preservation," rather its actual manifesta
tion. This, as well as Schleiermacher's theological classifi
cation, relates only to distinctively Christian ethics. — A very
common classification is, into general and special ethics, —
the latter treating of the special circumstances and relations
of the moral life ; but such a system can be carried out with
out violence only when the first division is reduced to a mere
general introduction.
SECTION LVH.
Morality is life, and hence, activity or movement,
and more definitely, rationally-free movement.
Herein lie three things : the subject that moves, the
end toward which the movement goes out, and the
movement-activity itself. The subject goes out from
its immediate condition of being per se, through move
ment, over into another condition which lies before
it as an end. But the moral subject is not a mere
isolated individual ; on the contrary, it is the freely
self-developing image of God as the primitive ground
and prototype of all morality, and it lives only in
virtue of constant inner-communion with God. The
holily-ruling God becomes, as distinguished from man,
the eternal, holy proto-subject of the moral life ; and
there is no moment of the moral life in which the
human subject, strictly per se and without God's co
operation, works the good. — The goal toward which
the moral movement directs itself is also of a twofold
character. Man finds himself already in the presence
of an objective world different from himself; and even
where he makes himself his own object, this, his
reality, is, primarily, a gift conferred upon him with
out any moral action on his own part ; this conferred
existence (world and self) is the working-sphere of his
30 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 57.
moral activity — the most immediate object and end
of the same. But man is not, in his activity, to
throw himself away upon this objective world — to
merge himself into it — but he is to shape it by his
own power, and in harmony with the moral idea, —
to make the possibility of the good into real good,
to realize a spiritual end in and through the object
ive world. Hence the goal of the moral activity is
to be considered under two phases : (a) As a pure
object untouched as yet by the moral activity, — as a
mere platform, as material given for the moral
activity in order to be spiritually dominated by
this activity so as to become a spiritually and morally
formed real good. (J) This object itself, as morally
fashioned, as having become a good, — existing prima
rily only as an idea, a rational purpose, but afterward
as a result of moral activity, as a fruit realized, — that
is the ideal goal proper, or the end of the moral
activity. In the first case, the object is, for the
moral activity, a directly-given reality, but it is not
to remain as such ; in the second case it is primarily
not real, but exists only in thought, but it is ulti
mately to become a reality expressive of the thought.
—The third phase of the moral movement, namely,
the moral activity itself, is, as spiritually free, like
wise of a twofold character ; on the one hand, it is to
be considered from its subjective side, that is, in
respect to how it is rooted in the subject himself,
and from him issues forth, — the subjective motive
of the moral activity, the source of the stream ; on
the other hand, it is to be considered as a life-
stream^ sent forth from the subject and directed
upon the object, — that is, the activity proper itself
as having become real and objective in its pro-
§51] PURE ETHICS. SI
gressive development toward the attained goal in
which it ends.
The subject-matter of ethics falls, therefore, into
the following subdivisions :
1. The moral subject, purely in and of itself con
sidered.
2. God as the objective ground of the moral life
and of the moral law, and also as the prototype of the
moral idea, and as co- working in the moral life.
3. The given objective existence upon which, as
material to be fashioned, the moral activity exerts
itself.
4. The subjective ground of the moral activity, the
personal motive to morality.
5. The moral working or acting itself, the moral
life-movement toward the moral goal.
6. The conceived object of the moral activity, its
goal or end. — the good as an object to be realized.
While Dogmatics sets out most naturally from the thought
of God, Ethics takes its start from man, the moral subject,
inasmuch as morality in its totality is simply the rational life-
development of man, — God coming into consideration here
not so much in his character as Creator as rather in that of a
Lawgiver and righteously-ruling Governor. Should we, how
ever, divorce Ethics entirely from Dogmatics, we would, of
course, have to preface the moral discussion of man by a
presentation of the doctrine of God.
The idea of the moral subject, of the rational personality,
is the foundation- thought of ethics, — the root out of which
all the other branches spring. But man is a morally rational
person only in so far as he conceives of himself, not as an
isolated individual, but as conditioned by the divine reason
and the divine holiness. Hence the idea of the moral per
sonality leads out beyond itself to the thought of God, as the
eternal fountain and the measure of morality, as the holy and
just Lawgiver; the prototypal relation of God to the moral
32 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 57
has its personally-historical manifestation in Christ, the Son
of God ; the moral idea becomes in Christ an actually-realized
ideal. The doctrine of the moral law belongs not in the
sphere of the human subject, but in that of the divine, for
the law is not man's but God's will.
In the notion of the moral subject considered as an indi
vidual being, there lies implicitly also the notion of an ob
jective world different from the same. Morality, as active
life, has this world before it as its theater of effort; the
activity in its outgoing comes into contact with a reality in
dependent of itself, which, though because of the unity of
creation it is not antagonistic to the subject, is nevertheless
primarily foreign to the same, and not in any wise imbued
with or dominated by it. But to be a spirit, implies in itself
the dominating of the unspiritual, the entering into harmony
with all that is spiritual. It is the task of the moral subject
to bring about this domination and this harmony. Moreover,
in so far as man finds himself in a simply given, and not as
yet spiritually-dominated and cultivated condition, he be
comes to himself his own object, his moral activity being
directed upon himself.
The modifying activity as exerted upon this given exist
ence is not, however, of a purposeless character, but it has
before it, in the rational end, an ideal object the realizing of
which is to be effected by the activity as moral. In an ethical
discussion which follows the actual order of the moral life,
this moral activity will have to be considered first, although
with constant reference to the moral end. This activity, as
a spiritual outgoing from the subject, has, on the one hand,
its fountain in the moral subject, on the other, it has also a
development-course as a stream. Each is to be considered
separately, so that we have here again two subdivisions.
The consideration of the subjective origin or ground of the
moral activity — its motive, — has to do with the why. The
existence of the law and the encountering of an external
world by the subject, do not suffice to explain why man
should enter upon a course of moral activity ; there must be
found, as distinguished from these, a motive in the subject
himself that prompts directly to moral activity, — that sets
the subject into movement. The mere "should" is not
§ 57.] PURE ETHICS. 33
enough to move us ; we may remain indifferent and emotion
less in the presence of every "categorical imperative" and
of every, however well-grounded, command ; if there is not
some impulse to activity within us, all and every command
will fall back powerless from us ; and this impulse must be of
a rationally-free, a moral character.
The moral activity itself, which is occasioned by this inner
motive, is to be considered primarily only in its essence and
in its general forms' of manifestation, and it involves only the
general, but not the special, discussion of the doctrine of
duties. By far the largest scope of special activity comes
under the last division of our classification; for the true
essence and real worth of moral good lies in the fact that it is
not a dormant possession, but that, on the contrary, it unfolds
continuously new and richer life, — just as a natural fruit is
not simply a product in which the life of the plant ends, but
is also the germ of a new life ; — with this difference, however,
that the fruit of the moral activity is not merely the germ of
a new life that simply repeats its former self, but rather of
an enriched, spiritually-heightened life. In the attained
moral good the moral life-movement rises to a new, higher
circulation ; the person in possession of this good has become
richer, — is a spiritually higher-developed personality; the
previously existing moral-subject has become more exalted
and spiritualized, — is, in fact, the already attained moral
good itself; and the moral activity gains thereby ampler and
more ennobled contents ; with the acquired good springs up
new duty.
In elucidation of the classification we have given, compare
the passages Deut. x, 12 sqq. ; xi, 1 sqq. ; xii, 1 sqq. Here we
may consider as the moral subject the people of Israel, — the
moral mission and activity of whom cannot possibly be un
derstood save in the light of their historically-moral peculi
arity. Jehovah is the sovereign, requiring moral obedience
to his will; the people's sinful hearts [x, 16], the heathen
country and inhabitants [x, 19; xi, 10 sqq. ; xii, 2 sqq.], and
the national life of the Israelites, form the sphere, the theater,
of the moral activity ; thankful love to the merciful, long-
suffering God is the moral motive [x, 15, 21 sqq.] ; willing
obedience, the walking in the ways of God, is the moral
VOL. II— 4
34 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 57.
activity ; and the approbation of God and his blessings are
the moral end [x, 13-15; xi, 8 sqq. ; xii, 7 sqq.].
In consideration of the thought that there lies at the basis
of all moral activity an end to which the activity directs it
self, it might seem more correct to consider this end, namely,
the good, before discussing the moral activity itself; however,
on the other hand, as the realization of the good presupposes
the moral activity, and as we are to consider the good not as
simply conceived, but as realized, and, inasmuch as out of
the realization of one good a new field of moral activity arises
in turn before us, hence it is clearly more natural, in fact, to
place the discussion of the end or the good (as being actually
the last in the order of the moral development) in the last
place ; for, it is in fact quite evident, that we cannot speak
of the family, the church, and the state, without having first
examined the moral activity per se. To begin with the
discussion of the good would be the so-called "analytical
method," whereas ours, on the contrary, is the "synthetic;"
— the course of the former is, so to speak, retrogressive -, while
the latter proceeds forward, more in the actual course of the
moral development, and hence is the more natural.
The first three subdivisions of our classification embrace, it
is true, only the antecedent conditions of the moral activity
itself; but it does not follow from this that their subject-mat
ter is to be thrown into an introduction. Free rational life,
as an object of ethics, cannot be treated as a mere activity
without taking into consideration also the active subject, as
well as the law by which the subject is governed, and the
field upon which it acts ; he who describes vegetable life,
must surely speak also of the organs of plants. In any case,
a controversy as to whether this consideration forms only an
introduction to the subject-matter, or is a part of the subject ••
matter itself, would be very unprofitable.
§58.] PUKE ETHICS.
CHAPTER I.
THE MORAL SUBJECT.
SECTION LVIII.
THE moral subject is the personal spirit, in a stricter
sense, the created spirit. Between the different
grades of spiritual beings, there is, in respect to the
moral life-task, no essential difference ; and, hence,
for the individual spirit, the life-task never comes to
a definitive close. The basis of the moral life is the
individual moral person ; but in so tar as a plurality
of persons constitute themselves into a spiritual life-
whole, such a collective totality becomes also itself a
moral subject with a peculiar moral task.
In the widest sense of the moral thought, even God him
self, as the holy One, is a moral subject. But in so far as
ethics has regard not to an absolutely infinite, eternal Being
and life, but to a task accomplishing itself in time, it con
siders only the created spirit as a subject of morality. But
all created personal spirits without exception are moral sub
jects, and that too with an individual task that never comes to
a close ; the blessed spirits, angels included, have not only,
like earthly men, constantly to accomplish morality, but so
soon as we leave sin out of view as an abnormal reality, their
moral task is essentially the same as that of man ; and Schleier-
macher is wrong in limiting moral acting, and hence also
ethics, to the, as yet, militant life, and in excluding them
from the perfected life of the blessed (Syst., p. 51, 61). Un
less we are to conceive the blessed as spiritually dead, then
they must have a life-activity answering to the divine will, —
that is, a moral one. Were this not the case, then Christ's
36 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 59.
holy life would be moral only so long as he had to do with
an opposing world ; and only the earthly, but not the glorifled,
Christ, as also not the saints in heaven, could be looked upon
as moral examples for us. It is true, the manifestation-form
of the morality of a blessed spirit will be different from that
of the yet militant; nevertheless the essence remains the
same.
The distinguishing of the moral collective subject from the
individual subject is a point of essential importance ; for, the
moral activity of the two is by no means the same. For the
member of a moral community, there arise special moral duties
that fall to him, not as a moral individual but as an organic
member of a whole, and which he is to fulfill not in his own
name but in that of the totality. The action of the individual
is, of course, the first, the presupposition of the other; the
moral community is always the fruit of a precedent moral
activity of the individuals, — is itself a realized-good, which,
however, at once becomes in turn itself a morally-active sub
ject, unless indeed it is to cease to be.
I. THE INDIVIDUAL MORAL SUBJECT, MAN.
SECTION LIX.
Man as created after God's image is, as spiritual
ized nature, both spirit and nature, and also the real
unity of the two.
A. As a spirit he is a rationally-free, self-determin
ing being, attaining to his fall, peculiar reality
through free activity. The basis and essence of this
spirituality is personal self -consciousness. Only in
so far as man is self-conscious can he be moral, and
by virtue of this self-consciousr,ess he is answerable
for his life, — his life becomes to him a moral one,
and is counted to him. But he is conscious of him
self as & personal individual, that is, he distinguishes
himself from others not merely by his being, but by
§59.] PURE ETHICS. 37
a to him exclusively-peculiar, determined being, — by
his peculiar personality, which in this peculiarity
does not belong to him directly from nature, but is
acquired only by personal, moral activity, and hence
constitutes character - peculiarity. The individual
being of man is distinguished from that of nature-
objects by the fact that it has inherent in itself, as
an inner rational power, the destination not to re
main a mere individual unit, but to become a per
sonality, — in a word, man is from the very beginning
not a mere specimen of his species, but is called to
become a peculiarly-determined being.
The Christian idea of man is summed up in the thought of
the image of God, and hence presupposes dogmatically the
development of the idea of God. The great emphasis which
is laid in Scripture on this idea of God-likeness [Gen. i, 26, 27 ;
ix, 6 ; 1 Cor. xi, 7 ; James iii, 9 ; Col. iii, 10 ; Acts xvii, 28, 29]
shows of itself that we have not to do here with a mere poetic
figure. All that is created is good, — is an expression of the
divine will, and hence is an image of the divine thought ; but
the rational creature, as the crown of creation, is the most
complete expression of this goodness, — is the image of God,
bears upon itself the most perfect impress of the Creator.
Now as God is essentially a spirit, hence, man is God's image
more immediately only as a rational spirit, whereas the body
merely bears on itself, like other nature-objects, the trace of
the Creator, but not his perfect impress, and it becomes an
image of God only, mediately, — namely, in so far as it is pro
gressively transfigured by the spirit into its own perfect ex
pression. In the Scriptures Christ is called by pre-eminence,
the true image of God ; but man is called to become like this
image [Rom. viii, 29]. Christ is this image not merely as the
eternal Son of God, but also and especially as the true Son of
Man, who historically and visibly reveals the divine [Col.
i, 15] ; and as such he is the "first-born among many brethren."
The rational spirit stands in contrast to mere nature-exist
ence. A nature-entity determines not itself, but is determined
38 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 59.
by a nature-force not lying within its own consciousness, —
is even in its activity predominantly unfree, whereas that
which constitutes the essence of spirit is, to be free, to deter
mine itself in its peculiarity, to be active toward conscious
ends. The brute has not purposes, but only impulses. There
is indeed reason in the brute ; the brute does not, however,
have the reason, but the reason has the brute. The reason
that is in nature is only objective rationality ; whereas spirit
is a subject possessing reason as a consciousness. This con
sciousness is rational, however, only as self-consciousness,
wherein man becomes to himself a real object, — comes into
spiritual self-possession, and in this self-possession distin
guishes himself from all other objective beings. By virtue of
self-consciousness man remains ever in the presence of Mmself,
and at one with himself ; and only in virtue of this continuous
sameness of the personal spirit, is it morally responsible.
But a spirit is more than a mere numerical individual ;
nature-creatures differ from others of their species, not by
essential peculiarities but by their mere separate being and
by outward fortuitous determinations, — are mere esseutially-
similar specimens of the same kind, mere repetitions of the
same existence. But each individual personal spirit has, as
distinguished from other personal spirits, a determined pecul
iarity of its own, which raises it from a mere numerical ex
istence into a determined personality. In self-consciousness
man knows himself not merely as a man, but as this particu
larly-determined man. He bears, therefore, a personal name,
the significance of which is, that it is his destination to be
something different from others, — to possess in his being
something which others neither have nor can have in the
same manner. The name is, with man as well as with God,
an expression of personal peculiarity — of that which inwardly
distinguishes one determined personality from others [Exod.
xxxiii, 12, 17; Isa. xliii, 1; xlv, 3, 4; Ivi, 5; John x, 3; Rev.
iii, 5] ; this personal peculiarity the spirit docs not have from
nature, nor yet is it generated by merely natural develop
ment; but the child has from the very beginning the capacity
for, and hence the destination unto, such a personality-con
stituting peculiarity; nor is this capacity a merely conceived
possibility, on the contrary it is a real germ ; but this germ
§ 59.] , PURE ETHICS. 39
can come to development only by moral activity. This germ
of personality which lies in the very essence of the rational
spirit does not contain within itself the determined pecul
iarity; it simply requires development, but as to how, and
unto what peculiarity it becomes developed, that depends
on the free moral activity of the person himself. That this
personal peculiarity does not come from nature, but belongs
to the life of the free spirit, is clearly implied in the custom,
prevalent among almost all nations and tribes, of name-giving.
Nature gives to man at birth his individual existence ; the
spiritually and historically formed society, or family, gives
to him his personal name, — designating thereby either the
goal of this personality or its already acquired peculiarity
[Gen. iii, 20; iv, 25; v, 29; xxi, 3; xli, 51, 52; Matt, i, 25;
Luke i, 60, etc.].
This thought of the moral quality of the personality is not
so uncontested as might be supposed. Schleiermacher, in
his Philosophical Ethics,* holds that moral individualities
differ primitively, before all moral activity, and hence do not
merely become different. While preceding moral systems,
and especially that of Kant, either overlooked the special
peculiarity of the person, or even ignored it as something il
legitimate, Schleiermacher emphasizes justly enough the moral
significancy of this peculiarity, but he also rushes to the
opposite one-sidedness,. and magnifies the difference into a
primitive, determined, ante-moral one, — a sort of moral
atomistics, which, in order to escape the difficulty of the
notion of free self-determination, assumes a much greater in
comprehensibility. In a system, sprung up from essentially
Pantheistic soil, this view is not inconsequential, inasmuch
as here the notion of a really free self-determination is out of
the question ; but at the same time also the notion of moral
personality is precluded, and ethics is reduced to a presenta
tion, not of how man as a free individual should conform him
self to a moral idea, but of how he must develop himself in
his strictly naturally-determined idiosyncrasy. But a spirit
that is absolutely determined by the All (conceived here as
* System, p. 93 sqq., 157, 172; comp. CJiristl. Sitte, p. 58 sqq., and
Grundlin. einer Kritik, etc., p. 79 tqg. (2 ed., p. 57) ; Monologen, 4 Ausg.,
p.. 24 sqq. ; Reden, 2. ed., 129.
40 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 59.
strictly impersonal) could not essentially differ from a mere
nature-creature ; even brutes have unfree spirituality. We
admit that men, even had they not sinned, would not have
manifested perfect similarity, but would have been in some
respects differently attuned from nature itself, — as, for ex
ample, in the peculiarities of sex, of temperament and of na
tionality, (see § 67,) but these natural differences affect not
the personal essence itself, — do not make of the individual a
being strictly personatty-diSerent from all others, but are only
different traits of entire clans or groups, — are not so much
differences of individuals as of races. The fact that in ;he
present condition of mankind, each individual has inborn
within him the germ of determined moral peculiarities, of
particular vices and the like, is simply a result of his illegiti
mate abnormal state, and is very far from justifying us in
merely cultivating and developing our inborn peculiarities.
But Schleiermacher is very erroneous when he regards this
original difference, even in spiritual and moral respects, as
something necessary and contributive to the aesthetic beauty
of the All, — as, for example, when he says: "Some [of the
phases of humanity] are the most sublime and striking ex
pression of the beautiful and the divine ; others are grotesque
products of the most original and fleeting whim of a master-
hand ; . . . why should we despise that which throws into
relief the chief groups, and gives life and fullness to the
whole? Is it not befitting that the single heavenly forms
should be glorified by the fact that thousands of others bow
themselves before them? Undying humanity is unweariedly
busy in reproducing itself and in manifesting itself under the
greatest variety of manner in the transitory phenomena of
finite life. Such is the harmony of the universe, such the
great and wonderful simplicity in its eternal art-work. What
indeed were the monotonous reiteration of a lean ideal in
which, after all, the individuals would be (time and circum
stances substracted) strictly like each other — the same formula
with the coefficients varied? — what were such a monotony in
comparison with this infinite variety of human peculiarities?
. . . This individual appears as the rude animal part of hu
manity, affected only by the first infantile instincts of the
race; that other one, as the finest sublimated spirit, free
§60.] PUKE ETHICS. 41
from all that is common and unworthy, and with light wing
rising above the earth ; — but all are there in order to show,
by their existence, how the various forces of human nature
operate separately and in detail." (Reden, 2ed.,p. \3Qsqq.).
Such language outdoes even the Greek distinction of man
into barbarous and free-men, and is, as a consistent expres
sion of a purely naturalistic view of the world, in most direct
antagonism to the Christian thought of a moral world-order
upheld by a holy God. — Rothe (EtJtik i, § 120 sqq.~) adopts
the view of Schleiermacher in a somewhat different, though
less consistent form.
SECTION LX.
The self-conscious personality unfolds its life under
a variety of forms. — (1) Man is a knowing, a cog-
noscitive, spirit, — he takes objects spiritually, that is,
according to their idea, into himself, and thus makes
them his enduring possession. The object of knowl
edge is truth, and the knowing spirit is capable of
attaining thereto. Knowledge is in itself true and
does not deceive, for God's created universe is good,
and hence true and in perfect harmony with itself.
As a rational spirit, man knows not only the created
world but also its divine source, — in fact the essence
of rationality consists in the knowledge of God in his
existence, his nature, his government, and his will.
This God-consciousness, resting upon a self-revelation
of God to man, is indeed, as finite knowledge, not
capable of thoroughly comprehending the infinite
essence of God, yet, with a full consciousness of its
own limits, it is nevertheless a true, real, and well-
grounded knowledge of the divine, and as such it is
the presupposition of moral ity.
The human spirit is an image of the eternal divine life,
though in the form of a temporal life. God, in his eternal
life, is eternally self-begetting, self-knowing, and self-loving,
42 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 60.
— absolutely his own object ; and the finite spirit, reflectively
manifesting the life-development of God, has a threefold ob
ject upon which its life-movement is directed, namely, itself,
the external world and God. Man is God's image in this
threefold relation, — in willing, in knowing, and in feeling;
but as, primarily, his reality is given to him, as already ex
isting without his co-operation, hence these three activities
appear in another and chronologically different order of suc
cession, as knowing, feeling, and willing. Thus the finite
spirit knows (takes cognizance of), feels (loves) and wills
both itself, the objective world and God ; and, as the life of
a created being is a progressive development whose spiritual
significance lies before it as a goal or purpose, — as something
not as yet fully real, but rather as to be won by effort, —hence
the threefold life of the spirit has also a threefold end,
namely, truth, happiness, and the good ; and it is only in the
perfect attaining of this threefold end that the image of God
in man perfects itself, — that the highest good is realized.
But as the perfection of created things consists- in the fact
that they perfectly correspond to the divine creative idea, so
the perfection of knowledge, feeling, and willing, and con
sequently of truth, of happiness, and of the good, consists in
their so relating to God that all finite objects are known,
willed, and loved only in God and as relating to him. God
himself is the truth, the good and love, and whatever falls
under this threefold notion, does so only in so far as it is
rooted in and in harmony with God.
Man, as created good by God, must have the capacity per
fectly to attain to this good state which is divinely proposed
to him as his life-goal. Hence his knowledge cannot be de
ceptive, but must have the truth as its contents. The world
would not be good, would not be in harmony, if the intellect
ual images of objects in the knowing spirit were not true to
the originals, — if the thought as objectively real were essen
tially other than the subjective one. "What Christ promises
to his followers: "Ye shall know the truth" [John viii, 32],
must also be fully applicable to man per se ; redemption is in
fact essentially a restoration of the lost perfection; God wills
that all men should " come unto the knowledge of the truth "
1 1 Tim. ii, 4J. The destination of man to know the truth is
§ 60.] PURE ETHICS. 43
expressed in Gen. ii, 19, 20. God brought the beasts to
Adam in order "to see what he would call them," that is,
how he would distinguish them from himself and from other
objects, — form of them a definite, generically-characterizing
notion ; the name is an expression of the obtained notion ; —
and whatsoever he severally called them, "that was the name
thereof; " — this is not a mere experiment on the part of God,
but, on the contrary, a divine guaranty for the. truthfulness
of human knowledge, and at the same time for the freedom
of the same. God himself brings before man the outer
world ; thereby he guarantees to him that his knowledge is
legitimate, true, and reliable ; and it is not God who gives
names to the objects; man himself does it, and freely; the
knowing (taking cognizance) of the truth is a free, and hence
a moral activity ; and this calling by name, this definite, dis
tinguishing knowing, is sealed by God as truthful, — "that
was the name thereof ; " man's free knowing is not to be
mere empty play, but to have a reality as its contents ; and
the spiritual significance of things is to find its goal only in
its being spiritually appropriated by man. Our knowledge
of the objective world is not to remain a mere sensuous be
holding, as with the brute, but is to rise beyond that stage
into the sphere of ideas ; this is for us a moral duty, and one
which has a divine promise. Thus the first man takes cog
nizance of, and names, also the woman, his created helpmeet
[Gen. ii, 23] ; and Eve, as well as Adam, recognizes the di
vine will and distinguishes it from her own as owing obedi- "
ence to the former [Gen. iii, 2, 3] ; in the one case as well as
in the other, there is manifested at the same time a definite
self-consciousness as different from the objective conscious
ness.
The relation of our knowledge to God is of course quite
different from its relation to the world. While all worldly
being may, as created, be also ultimately fully known and
comprehended by man, on the contrary the infinite and eternal
being and essence of God is, for the essentially limited human
spirit, a thought never fully to be grasped ; and the incompre
hensibility of God [Psa. cxlvii, 5; Isa. xl, 28; Iv, 8, 9; Job
xi, 8; Rom. xi, 33] is a Christian doctrine by no means to be
rejected. But this incomprehensibility does not preclude a
4-4 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 60.
very essential and true knowledge, otherwise were all God-
likeness in man a mere empty rhetorical phrase. Even as the
eye is unable to take in the entire ocean, and nevertheless
has a very definite intuition of its existence and peculiarities,
so likewise is the finite spirit unable to take in the infinite,
to fathom it in it? bottomless depths, and yet it is able with
constantly increasing clearness to attain to a true knowledge
not only of the existence but also of the nature of God, — not,
however, by means of the understanding, which relates to and
is exclusively occupied with the finite, but by means of the
reason, which relates essentially to the infinite. As all created
being is a reflection of God, and as man is his image, hence
the type leads directly to an (imperfect it may be, but yet)
true knowledge of the prototype [Rom. i, 19, 20; Col. iii, 10].
The assumption that man can know of God only that he is,
and what he is not, but not what he is, is self-contradictory
and unbiblical ; a merely negative knowledge is no knowledge
at all, and of that of whose- nature I know nothing I cannot
affirm even, that it is. The Evangelical Church very strongly
emphasizes primitive man's capability of attaining to a knowl
edge of the truth, even in relation to the divine nature ; the
Apologia (i, § 17, 18) ascribes to him sapientia et notitia del
certior, " a correct and clear knowledge of God." Skepticism
may readily find excuse for itself outside of Christianity, but
what holds good of man as estranged from God, does not
hold equally of him who is in communion with that God who
is himself the truth ; and hence within the Christian world,
skepticism has no longer any reason of existence. Also the
assertion of Kant, that the object per se remains hidden from
human knowledge, and that all knowledge of reality has, in
the sphere of pure reason, only a formal and subjective valid
ity, is in direct contradiction to the Christian world-view,
which expresses a much greater confidence in the harmony of
the universe. The perfect man and the Christian can do more
than "conjecture and presume;" for, "the spirit of man is
the candle of the Lord" [Prov. xx, 27]. — That man's first
God-consciousness should rest on an objective self-revelation
of God, was a necessary condition to his spiritual education
toward finding the truth for himself.
§ 61-1 PURE ETHICS. 45
SECTION LXI.
(2) Man is a ivilling, a volition ating, spirit ; the
goal of his life-movement is for him a conscious end.
He is not impelled unconsciously and by extraneous
force toward that to which he is to attain, but he
knows the end, and himself directs himself toward
it, — he chooses the known goal by virtue of a personal
will-determination, — that is, in his willing he is free.
The end of rational willing is the good, and, in so far
as this is to be realized by freedom, the morally-good.
That which in nature-objects takes place by necessity,
becomes, in the sphere of the moral will, a "should ;"
that which in the former case is natural law, becomes
here a moral precept; that which is there natural de
velopment, becomes here moral life. But the will
of the created spirit differs from the prototypal will
of God by the fact that its development in time is
not unconditioned, but is always conditioned on free
self-determination, so that consequently there exists
the possibility of another self-determination than that
toward the true end, — that is, in a word, by the fact
that man's freedom of will, as distinguished from the
divine (which is, at the same time, eternal necessity),
is freedom of choice — liberum arbilrium. The finite
spirit can, and should, attain to the good as the pur
pose of its life, but it can also — what it should not
do — turn away from this good ; and it attains to the
good only when it freely wills to attain to it. Man,
as created good, has this freedom in the highest de
gree, so that it is not limited or trammeled by any
tendency to evil inherent in his natural non-perfec
tion, as, for example, by his sensuousness. It is in
cumbent upon ethics to describe and explain the
46 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 61-
development of the natural freedom of the, as yet,
undetermined will, into the moral freedom of the
holy will.
The moral freedom of the will is distinctly presupposed in
the Biblical account of primitive man. "And the Lord God
commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden
thou mayest freely eat ; but of the tree of the knowledge of
good and evil, thou slialt not eat of it " [Gen. ii, 16, 17]. God's
injunction addresses itself to the free will of man, and requires
of him moral obedience. When, now, man nevertheless actu
ally did that which was forbidden, he simply did the opposite
of what God's holy will was ; and he thereby demonstrated in
fact, though to his ruin, the reality of human freedom of
choice. Scripture knows absolutely nothing of any other
view of the true nature of man than that he was capable
of freely choosing good or evil. For this idea of freedom of
choice, however, Scripture has no specific expression; for
thevdepof, i^Evdepla, originally used in a legal sense, designate
the condition of man as emancipated by Christ ; the idea of
man's freedom of choice is expressed rather as a " choosing
between good and evil;" for example, in Isa. vii, 15, 16,
where the time of the spiritual maturity of a man is called
the, time when he " shall know to refuse the evil and choose
the good" [comp. Dent, xi, 26 sqq.], or when he can do " ac
cording to his pleasure" [Esth. i, 8], or that which is "good
in his own eyes" [Gen. xvi, 6; xix, 8]. The view of freedom
of choice as presented in the book of Sirach xv, 14, holds
good in its full sense evidently only of man as free from
the bondage of sin. In the New Testament, man's freedom of
choice is implied by Oefotv (for example, in Matt, xxiii, 37 ;
whereas the "power over one's own will " mentioned in 1 Cor.
vii, 37 refers more to our moral discretion).
In the Christian church the full moral freedom of choice of
man before the fall, has been uniformly admitted ; and the
notion that human actions are necessarily determined, just as
uniformly rejected [comp. Apol. i, p. 52, 53 ; Form. Cone, ii,
p. 580, 677]. The " supralapsarian " predestinarianism of
Calvin has never been ecclesiastically sanctioned, nor in fact
does even it deny freedom of choice as a principle, and ex-
§ 61.] PURE ETHICS. 47
pressly, but only actually. Entirely different from this teach
ing of Calvin is the fundamental denial of freedom of will in
all Pantheistic systems since Spinoza. In Pantheism there is
no place for freedom, and what appears there under this
name is something entirely different from that which the
consciousness of all nations understands thereby. 'Where
conscious spirit is not the ground, but simply a product of
the collective development of the All, there the individual
spirit is in its entire existence, essence, and life, absolutely
determined ; and its single life-manifestations are quite as
absolutely determined as is its being itself ; — in which case
the rational spirit can never have a consciousness of freedom,
but only a "sense of absolute dependence," and hence there
can be no room for any moral responsibility. The seemingly
moral life is as immediate and necessary a manifestation of
the "all-life" as is the growth of plants, and it differs from
the nature-life only in the fact, that man has a consciousness
of that which he does necessarily, in fact, but which he
fancies he does freely. The will differs from unconscious
nature-impulse only by the consciousness which attends it,
but it is,- in fact, quite as absolutely determined and unfree
as is the latter. This view is expressed most clearly, simply,
and consequentially, by Spinoza ; and it is neither in the in
terest of clearness nor of scientific honesty, when more^ re
cent systems, based on him, make free use of fair-sounding
words about human 'freedom. In essential agreement with
Spinoza, Schleiermacher, in his "Discourses on Religion,"
rejects the freedom of the will. The essence of religion is a
sense of the absolute unity of the universe and the individual
existence, — a consciousness that our whole being and activity
are the being and activity of the universe itself, and are de
termined thereby. — Schelling, who subsequently attributed
to the idea of the personal will a very high significancy, held
as yet in his "Lectures on Academic Study" (1803) to the
unconditional necessity of all apparently free phenomena.
History is quite as fully an immediate and necessary mani
festation of the absolute, as is nature ; men are but instru
ments for carrying out that which is per se necessary, and
they are, in their reality and peculiarities, quite as fatally-
determined as the actions themselves. Actions appear as free
48 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 61.
or arbitrary only in so far as man makes a necessarily-deter
mined action specifically his own, but this action itself, as
well as its result in good or evil, and hence also man in all
his life-manifestations, is but the passive instrument of abso
lute necessity ; all that which is apparently free is but a
neceseary expression of the eternal order of things. Subse
quently (1809), Schelling sought to rise above Pantheism,
and, in some manner, to comprehend the freedom of the will,
but he did not rise beyond wide-reaching contradictions.
The assumption of an ante-mundane fall into sin was in
tended to reconcile freedom with necessity (Phil. Schr., 1809,
i, 438 sqq., 463 sqq.). On this we remark here simply, that
from an ethical stand-point it makes no moral difference
whether free self-determination is precluded, for our whole
mundane life, by an absolute natural necessity, or by a pre
tended ante-mundane free determination of man himself, but
of which he has not the least consciousness. Where there is
no continuity of the consciousness, there there is also no unity
of the person ; and a pretended free act which / am supposed
to have done, but of which /know absolutely nothing, is not
my act but is absolutely foreign to me ; and a fettering of my
freedom by a, to me entirely unknown, timeless act cannot
be regarded from a moral point of view as other than a sim
ple being-determined by unconditional necessity. — Hegel has
left the idea of freedom, in many respects, in great uncer
tainty ; he is very fond of talking of freedom ; but his system
itself is compatible only with a universal all-determining
necessity ; freedom is nothing more than " the not being de
pendent on another, the sustaining relations to one's self ; "
in its full sense, however, this is true only of the spirit as
absolute ; individual spirits are only transient manifestations
of the collective- life, and are determined by the same. —
More recent philosophy, wherever it deviates from strict
Pantheism, uniformly attempts to bring personal freedom of
will more clearly before the consciousness. There is here no
possibility of a middle-ground, and ambiguous rhetoric can
no longer deceive. Where God is not the infinite eternal
Spirit, but comes to self-consciousness only in man, there the
thought of a real freedom of will is impossible. The infinite
domination of the All leaves no place for the free movement
§ 62.] PURE ETHICS. 49
of the individual spirit; the misused freedom of a single
creature would throw the collective universe into disorder,
for the unfree All affords no possibility of preserving moral
order as against the free actions of individuals. On this
ground there remains a freedom only for thoughtless con
templation ; and this would then, of necessity, lead to the
ethics of an unlimited self-love which can seek and find in
the bedlam of individual wills nothing higher than itself.
Freedom is possible only where a free Spirit rules in and
over the All. The personal God is able, in almighty love, to
create free spirits, and to guarantee them in their freedom,
namely, in that he lovingly withdraws his direct activity
from the sphere of will-freedom, and thus preserves the
created spirit in its spiritual essence which is freedom itself ;
and such a God is able in the midst of the diversity and mul
tiplicity of free actions, and even of ungodly ones, to preserve
the moral order of the universe.
(The question of freedom of will has of late been much
discussed, mostly from the stand-point of recent philosophy
and in relation thereto. Daub: Statement and Criticism of
Hypotheses Relating to Free - Will, 1834 ; Romang : On Free - Will
and Determinism, 1835 [starting out from Schleiermacher's
stand-point, he attains only to a semblance of freedom] ;
Matthias: The Idea of Freedom, 1834; [since Hegel] Herbart:
On the Doctrine of the Freedom of the Human Will, 1836 [critic
al, rather than furnishing new matter] ; Vatke ; Passavant :
On the Freedom of the Will, 1835; K. Ph. Fischer, in Fichte's
Zeitschrift, iii, 101; ix, 79; Zeller, in the Theologische Jahr-
lucher, 1846 ; and others).
SECTION LXII.
(3) Man is a feeling, a sensitive, spirit, — becomes
conscious of himself as standing; in harmony with, or
in antagonism to, other being; and, inasmuch as in
the primitive unperverted creation, goodness, and
hence harmony, is an essential quality, and a real
disharmony therein inconceivable, hence while man
— as self-developing, that is, as seeking after an, as
VOL. II-5
50 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. f§ 62-
yet, unrealized goal — has a consciousness of some
thing yet lacking to his ultimate perfection, still he
knows nothing of any real antagonism of existence,
and hence he has no feeling of pain, but only of joy
in existence, arising from his consciousness of an un
disturbed harmony of universal existence with his
own personality, — that is, in a word, the feeling of
happiness. In so far as this feeling expresses at the
same time the recognition of this existence in its
peculiar reality, it is love. Bliss and love to God and
to his works are not two different things, but only
two different phases of the same spiritual life-mani
festation, — the former being rather the subjective,
the latter the objective phase, — inasmuch as in bliss
and love man is, in fact, perfectly at one with the
objective universe.
Feeling is not peculiar to the rational spirit ; it becomes
rational only in so far as it is an expression of self-conscious
ness; and as self-consciousness is rational only in being a con
sciousness not of mere individual being but also of a God-
likeness in the peculiarity of the person, so also is rational
feeling not of a merely individual nature, but it is excited by
the traces of God which shine forth from all created exist
ence, and hence it is, at bottom, always a love of God. The
goodness of created existence is embraced by rational feeling
not as being good merely for the feeling individual, but as a
being-good perse; the rational spirit feels not merely that
this or that entity stands in harmony with itself, but it feels
itself as standing in harmony with the totality of existence, —
feels the harmony of God's world as such. In the same de
gree that spirituality rises, rises also the vividness and com
pass of feeling. The unconscious nature-object is affected
only by the very few things that come into immediate contact
with it ; the brute shows so much the more extended and
more lively a sympathy with external existence the higher
and nobler its rank. Emotionlessness, blunt indifference to-
§ 63.] PURE ETHICS. 51
ward external objects, is always, save where it is artificially
superinduced by false teachings, a sign of deep moral degra
dation. The Biblical account of the primitive condition of
man uniformly represents the destination of nature to be, to
procure to the rational spirit the feeling of joy, of happiness.
Man is placed in the garden of Eden, and thereby brought
into the immediate presence of the full harmony of the created
world ; in it God causes to grow "every tree that is pleasant
to the sight and good for food ; " and the full feeling of hap
piness, as springing from his love to that which harmonizes
with him, is procured to man (to whom it is not " good " to
be alone) by the creation of woman, — in whom he at once
recognizes that she is bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh,
— a being other than, and yet of, himself.
Feeling is the presupposition of all activity, and hence also
of the moral ; and the most real feeling of all — that which
relates to the moral — is not an un-pleasure feeling, as is often
assumed in antagonism to the Biblical world-view, but in fact
a happiness-feeling. It would not imply a "good " creation,
nor indeed any God-likeness in man, were it a fact that man
were incited to activity only by un-pleasure, that is, by pain,
while yet happiness were the end of the active life. Even
as God is not prompted to activity by any feeling of want,
but rather in virtue of his eternal and absolutely perfect bliss,
so also can the true moral feeling of man, who is God's image,
be no other than the feeling of happiness and love ; but the
consciousness of a yet to be won good is per se by no means
a feeling of unhappiness, on the contrary it in fact awakens
a direct pleasure in seeking.
SECTION LXIII.
(4) Man, as a rationally self-conscious spirit, is
personally immortal; only as such is he a truly
moral being, — has a moral life-task transcending his
own immediate individuality. Faith in immortality
is the presupposition of true morality ; for the moral
life-task is one that is incessantly progressive, ever
self-renewing, and at no moment perfectly brought
52 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§63.
to a close; and, as the perfect realization of God-
likeness, it can only be accomplished through an
uninterruptedly-continuing personal life.
We have to do here, not with the scientific demonstration
of the doctrine of personal immortality, but only with its
moral significance. In recent times, especially since Kant,
the notion has frequently been maintained, that morality is
entirely independent of a belief in immortality, nay, that it
evinces its purity and genuineness by the very fact of entirely
leaving out of view this belief, and that a man is not truly
moral so long as he allows himself to be determined in his
moral activity by this belief. It is true, Kant deduces from
the idea of the moral, the idea of personal immortality as a
rational postulate ; the moral idea itself, however, is with
him independent of this postulate, — calls for its fulfillment
absolutely and unconditionally. There is in this some de
gree of self-contradiction ; if the "categorical imperative " de
mands morality unconditionally, and utterly irrespectively of
immortality, then this immortality cannot be embraced in it
as a postulate, but must be merely associated thereto from
without. In the endlessness of the life-task, however, as it
is presented by Kant, there actually lies, in fact, the thought
of immortality as included in the moral idea itself, — so that
his express dissociating of the two ideas is illegitimate and
unnatural. Schleiermacher goes further; and, even in his
Dogmatics, he is unable entirely to rise above his previous
express denial of immortality. In his Discourses on Re
ligion he places the religiously-moral life-task proper in an
actual disregarding of the idea of this immortality. " Strive
even in this life to annihilate your personality, and to live in
the One and All; strive to be more than yourselves, in order
that you may lose but little when you lose yourselves;" the
immortality to be aimed at is not that of the personality, not
above and beyond the earthly existence, but it is an ideal im
mortality in each and every moment; men should not desire
to hold fast t' their personality, rather " should they embrace
the single opportunity presented to them by death for escaping
beyond it."* Even in his Dogmatics Sehleiermacher holds,
* Reden ub die Itel., p. 174 sjj., 2 Auj,
§ 63.] PURE ETHICS. 53
that the purest morality perfectly consists with a "renuncia
tion of the perpetuity of the personality, — that, in fact, an
interestedness in a recompense is impious. In the Hegelian
philosophy morality is absolutely independent of immortality ;
this idea in fact can nowhere find footing in the system ; the
religion of the ' ' this-side " which sprang from this philoso
phy, affects to give point to its rhetorical flourishes on mo
rality by its seemingly magnanimous renunciation of all
expectation of eternal life.
The pretended disinterestedness of moral actions performed
without reference to immortality, is mere appearance. All
moral activity looks to an end, and this end is a good ; and
personal perfection is for each individual an essential part of
the highest good, or, in fact, this good itself; hence not to
wish to obtain any thing for one's self by one's moral activity
is simply absurd ; the first and most necessary of all goods,
and the one which is the presupposition of all morality, is in
fact existence ; to desire to renounce personal existence, or to
regard it as indifferent, is equivalent to renouncing moral
life, and is consequently not unselfish, but it is immoral. It
is true we cannot claim for the so-called ideological proof of
the immortality of the soul, full demonstrative power; this
much, however, it does prove, namely, that the highest moral
perfection would be impossible without immortality ; for, as
man can never arrive at such, a perfection of the moral life as
that he can advance no further, so that consequently his
farther existence would be purposeless, but in fact, on the
contrary, every fulfillment of one moral duty gives in turn
birth to new ones, and there is absolutely no point to be
found where the moral spirit might say, " thus far and no
farther, there remains nothing more for me to do," — hence
also moral perfection cannot be realized save in an unbroken
perpetuity of personal life. To say now, that the moral life-
task does not consist in obtaining entire moral perfection, but
only a limited degree thereof, would be per se immoral. And
in fact should we for a moment concede some such limited
degree of the moral, then there would be no conceivable rule
for fixing this degree, and each would be at liberty to narrow
the limits of his morality at pleasure, without that any one
would be justified in blaming, or less esteeming him therefor.
54 CHRISTIAN" ETHICS. [§ 63.
In all moral systems, even those of heathen nations, mo
rality is more precious than temporal life, and that person is
regarded as ignoble and contemptible, even by pagans, who
clings to his life at any price, for example, at that of failing
in his duty to his country, to his family, or to his own honor.
This moral sentiment of honor we have no wish to weaken.
It is conceivable, on the assumption of the prevalence of sin,
that one's moral duty, as, for example, that of speaking or
confessing the truth, or of fidelity in love or obedience, can
not in some conjunctures be fulfilled save at the sacrifice of
temporal life. Now, to one's existence in general one has an
unlimited right ; it is his first and most natural right. In
the atj&ence of immortality, however, the sacrifice of one's life
for a moral duty would not only not be a moral requirement,
but it would be downright folly and sin ; for morality can never
require the giving up of the first condition of all moral activity,
namely, personal existence. The first, the most immediate
and absolutely unconditional duty, is self-preservation, and
other duties are binding only in so far as they do not radically
interfere with this one. As it would not be a moral action,
but on the contrary a proof of insanity if one man should really
choose* eternal damnation for the sake of another, just as
little is any being whatever at liberty to purchase for others
any temporal good, however great, at the cost of personal
existence ; and in the absence of immortality there can be
none other than temporal goods. Man may sacrifice any one
good only for the sake of a higher good ; but in renouncing
existence he obtains no good whatever. The sound and un
sophisticated judgment will find, on the denial of immor
tality, no other rule of life-wisdom than simply to take ad
vantage of the short span of life here allotted to us for
enjoying the greatest possible happiness. Happiness is in
fact an absolutely necessary phase of human perfection, and
an essential expression of the highest good : to strive after it
is not only not selfishness, on the contrary, it is a require
ment of reason and of moral duty; and it is not possible that
in a world of rational order morality should work any thing
else than happiness. Were it otherwise it would be a plain
* It is only seemingly so that Paul expresses such a willingness in
Bom. ix, 3.
§ 63.] PURE ETHICS. 55
proof of the non-existence of a rational, moral world-order,
and in that case it would be totally absurd to speak further
of moral duty at all, for duty is itself a part of a moral world-
order. If there is, now, no eternal blessedness as a highest
good, then it can be only after temporal, earthly happiness,
that man has to seek, and by which consequently he is to
measure the morality of his acts. If it is true that all mo
rality necessarily renders happy, then on the above hypoth
esis only that can be moral which procures for us earthly
comfort, temporal enjoyment ; the teachings of the Epicureans
would then be the only rational theory, and no valid objec
tion could be made to the moral rule : ' l Let us eat and drink,
for to-morrow we die " [1 Cor. xv, 32]. Foolish then would
he be who did not recklessly seek as much enjoyment in his
earthly life as in any way he possibly could. It is, of course,
not necessary that this system should lead simply to groveling
sensual enjoyment ; the ancient Epicureans knew well enough
that riotous intemperate indulgence works much suffering,
and the modern ones also know equally well, that by unre
strained wantonness they bring themselves into shame and
contempt in the eyes of the morally-taught masses; this,
however, does not in any degree ameliorate the essence of
this morality of the "this side." The outwardly-respectable
life of many a denier of immortality rests in reality on the
power of public opinion, and on custom as grown up from
Christian ground. But the case is quite otherwise where un
belief becomes fashionable in wider circles of society. Let
vouch for this, the utter immorality and depravity that pre
vailed in the circles of the French and of the Gallicized
German free-thinkers of the last century. In the lower walks
of society where a simpler logic prevails, and where respect
for position and for public opinion has a less controlling
power, the practical inferences from a naturalistic philosophy
are more speedily and consistently drawn; and the ring
leaders in depravity among the lower classes of the present
day are, for the most part, deeply imbued with the con
quests of ''free thought," and are able thereby admirably to
justify their wantonness; and there is scarcely conceivable
a more absurd role than that assumed by the "respectable"
among the free-thinkers, who presume to preach morality
56 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 63.
to their more- free-thinking and more logically reasoning
brethren.
He who is without belief in immortality cannot act from
an unconditional moral idea, but only from empirical external
fitness, from circumstantial need ; he cannot make moral duty
his life-task, and his moral life sinks to a merely higher-
cultured animal life. The question as to whether Christian
morality is possible without a belief in immortality would
have to be rejected as trivial, — seeing that a belief in Christ's
and God's express word is certainly included in Christian
morality, — had it not been expressly affirmed by some. The
word of Christ, however, is a sufficient answer. "He that
loseth his life for my sake shall find it," and "He that loveth
his life shall lose it, and he that hateth his life in this world
shall keep it unto life eternal " [Matt, x, 39 ; Luke ix, 24 ;
xvii, 33; John xii, 25; x, 17; comp. 1 Cor. ix, 25; Phil, i, 81].
We emphasize in these passages, not the expressly pro
nounced affirmation of a life after death, but simply the ex
press requirement to sacrifice one's life in the interest of a
moral duty. But a world-government in which the realiza
tion of the good is possible only by the destruction of him
who has for his life-task to realize the good, would be per se
in a state of utter anarchy, and would have no right to im
pose moral duties. The simple undeniable fact is this, that
the Christian heroes who literally fulfilled the above word of
Christ, had joy in so doing only because of that living faith
that enabled them to pray amid the tortures of death: "Lord
Jesus, receive my spirit " [Acts vii, 59]. But between the
Christian martyr's joy in death and an unbeliever's defiant
contempt of death, there is a world-wide difference. Cases
are not unfrequently seen of hardened criminals and atheists
meeting death with undaunted courage and great CQolness ;
this is,, however, but another form of the cold defiance with
which other persons blow out their own brains ; and whoever
has the assurance to compare such blind hardness, even in the
remotest degree, with the joyousness and peace of soul of the
Christian, surely shows himself utterly incapable of appre
ciating the true nature of morality.
When Schleiermachcr and others, after him, declare it as
unpious to be interested in a recompense, — understanding by
§ 63.] PURE ETHICS. 57
this assertion that there is wanting a pure and immediate
seeking for piety and morality themselves, and that both are
desired merely as means for attaining to perfect happiness in
a future life, — there is indeed some ground for their position,
but only in so far as the subject should regard morality
merely as a means to happiness, and that too as a meritorious
means even in our present state of sinfulness, while the hap
piness should be considered as a justly claimable reward.
But so soon as the objectors presume to reprehend the seek
ing after happiness as an essential and necessary phase of the
high st good, and to brand as unpious the striving after the
same as an actual life-purpose in general, we must reject their
position as one-sided and untrue. Every good and hence
every moral end produces happiness ; and it would be a
strange requirement, to permit the seeking after the good
but not the seeking after the happiness therein contained.
When Christ and the Apostles hesitated not to base all moral
sacrifice on the promise and confident hope of eternal life, it
does not seem very becoming in a Christian to stigmatize
this as immoral self-seeking. When appeal is made to the
Reformed divine Danaeus, who (in his Ethica Christ, i, c. 17)
represents the honor of God as the sole motive, and that for
the sake of which we should be in duty bound to take upon
ourselves eternal death, were it required of us, and who stig
matizes it as mercenary to act morally for the sake of eternal
happiness, — we may reply, on the one hand, that it could
never occur to one who is a Christian and conscious of re
demption by grace to regard eternal blessedness, as a reward
due for his virtue-merit, — which, in fact, is the sole view
that Danseus rejects [fol. 78, ed. 3], — and, on the other
hand, that this somewhat rash and readily misunderstood
declaration has quite a different sense in the mouth of
DanaBus, who held fast to personal immortality, and in the
mouth of those who see in the thought of immortality only a
"dogma" without significance for the religious life, and
which it is well to vail as much as possible in ambiguous
phraseology. And in fact it doubtless forms a part of the
moral honoring of God, that we believe in his promises, and
love and thank him for them, and also act piously from this
loving thankfulness. For the moral life is genuine only
58 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 63.
when it is a full and true -expression of the filial relation of
man to God ; and it is not only illegitimate, but also a sinful
disregarding of God, to require that we should keep only one
phase of this relation in view, and violently throw aside and
forget the other, — that we should see in God only the Sover
eign and not also the lovingly promising Father. If God has
gifted man with immortality, if he has promised to the
Christian eternal life, then neither can nor should man, as
moral, have any other moral goal than that which answers to
this promise ; if man, in his moral life, ignores that this life
is the way to eternal life, — that God has placed before him
an everlasting goal, — such conduct is an immoral rejecting
of God's love. "Whoever does not act from love acts immor
ally ; now, for the promise of eternal life we owe God thank
ful love; hence there is no true morality which has not this
loving thankfulness for its motive.
Against this view, — which is surely in perfect harmony with
the general Christian consciousness, — indignant warning lias
been made,* as if it were an ignoring of the inalienable "con
quests of recent science," and even appeal has been made
to the Old Testament, in which, as an actual fact, it is as
serted, the doctrine of immortality is not presented as a
moral motive. Now, if the conquests of modern science are
to consist in going back to the Old Testament stand-point,
for which, on other occasions, the objectors are not in the
habit of showing any very high, esteem, we may well allow
ourselves to deem it a progress beyond said conquests, to come
back to the stand-point of Christ and the Apostles. What the
wise educative purpose of the said Old Testament peculiarity
was, we have elsewhere inquired, and we do not hesitate .in
the least to claim that Christian morality stands higher than
that of the Old Testament, and that also in moral respects
"he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater" than
the greatest of the Old Testament saints [Matt, xi, 11],
though indeed the latter also had, in their faith in the divine
promise, in their hope of a future glorious goal for all the
children of God, a powerful moral motive that was in no
wise opposed to a belief in immortality, but on the contrary
* So especially Alex. Schweitzer in the Protest. Kirchem^ 1862, Nr. If
Fr. Nitzscb in the Stud. u. Krit., 1863, II, 875.
§ 64.] PUKE ETHICS. 59
implicitly contained it. .Whether those who in recent times
decline, with such professed disinterestedness, the applica
tion of faith in immortality as a moral motive, seek their
moral glory in quite as unconditional a submission to God's
revealed Word and guidance as did the saints of the Old
Testament, seems to us, after all, quite questionable. We do
not doubt but that there may be some sort of morality with
out said faith ; but the question is as to true morality — that
which embraces the whole man, appropriates to itself all
truth, and is of the truth. The pains which some persons
give themselves to prove that there may be a moral life with
out faith in immortality, reminds us very much of the re
cently made experiment of a naturalist: — he scooped out
with a spoon the brain of a living dove, and the poor bird
actually continued to live for six several weeks, and even par
took of food in the mean time ! Very interesting experiments
may be had by performing similar amputations on the living
body of the Christian faith, — and some of our theologians
are quite busy at the work, — but whether the patient prospers
very well under the operation is another question.
B.— MAN AS TO HIS SENSUOUSLY-CORPOREAL LIFE.
i
SECTION LXIV.
The natural body, as the physical basis on which
the spirit develops itself to its full reality, has not a
purpose in and of itself, but only for the spirit,
namely, to be the perfectly-answering and absolutely-
subserving organ of the spirit's relations to nature.
This embraces three points : — 1. The sensuous cor
poreality is, despite its seemingly trammeling power
over the freedom of the spirit, per se absolutely good,
and there is neither any thing evil in it nor is it the
cause of any evil whatsoever; and as the body must,
in so far as it is normal, be in harmony with the
spirit and with nature, hence there is in it no sort
60 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§64.
of ground for any trammeling of the spiritual life —
for any pain.
The moral significance of the sensuous nature, the cor
poreality, of man is a very important point in the Christian
world-theory, and can ill no wise be regarded as non-essential.
It is, in fact, one among the living questions of the day, —
questions which are being warmly agitated even outside of
the church, and in relation to which the bearing of the Chris
tian consciousness is, in many respects, entirely misunder
stood. As early as the fourth century there 'infected the
Christian church (partly under the prompting, or at least the
countenance of non-Christian influences) a spiritualistic view
of the naturally-sensuous, — a practical disesteeming of the
same in comparison with the spiritual ; and the Middle Ages
followed in general the same tendency ; the Reformation re
turned to the primitive Christian and biblical view. The
recent rationalistic philosophy of the understanding de
veloped, in contrast to the Middle Ages, the theoretical rather
than the practical phase of spiritualism, and conceived the
sensuously-corporeal life, not merely as the cause of sin, but
asperse and originally a trammeling of the spiritual life, —
as the real source and seat of sin, and hence as a mere transi
tory and soon entirely-to-be-thrown-off evil, — and interpreted,
utterly erroneously, the New Testament term, adp%, referring
it to the natural corporeality. Death, which had previously
been viewed as the wages of sin, was now regarded as the
emancipator from the seductive and spirit-burdening cor
poreal life, — as the divinely appointed normal beginning of
the untrammcled life of the spirit. Sensuousness is here the
not inherited, but innate, and not guilty, but guilt-generating
molum originis — an evil, the origin of which was not free re
sponsibly-sinning man, but the divine creative will itself; in
getting rid of corporeality therefore man gets rid at the same
time also of his (so-regarded) scarcely-imputable sinfulness.
Sin consists essentially in the predominating of the sense-life
over the spirit ; the spirit per xc would have little or no occa
sion for sin. The doctrine of a resurrection of a glorified
body is rejected as belonging to a crude, unspiritual world-
view ; it is only the pure disembodied spirit that is free and
§ 64.] PUKE ETHICS. 61
perfect. In opposition to this view, the more recent and now
spreading irreligious Materialism has exalted the sensuously-
corporeal nature above the spirit, and conceived of the spirit
as merely a transient force-manifestation of organized matter.
The evangelically-Christian view is neither the above spirit
ualistic nor this materialistic one. Christianity, though so
often charged by worldlings with a one-sided spiritualism,
places in fact a much higher moral worth on the corporeal
nature than was ever done by heathenism. The body is
destined, it is true, to absolute subserviency to the spirit;
but it has precisely in this, its perfect service, also a share in
the high moral significancy of the spirit, — it is not only not
to be discarded as a trammeling of the spirit, but is a very
essential part of the moral person. As the eye cannot say to
the hand: "I have no need of thee" [1 Cor. xii, 21], neither
also may the spirit thus speak to the body. As the nature-
side of man, corporeality mediates the action of the spirit
upon nature, so that nature becomes thrown open to the
spirit as an object both of knowledge and of action. The
spirit stands in living relation not only to spirit, but essen
tially also to nature, and virtualizes also therein its God-
likeness.
The normal relation of the body ta the spirit cannot be
directly inferred from the present actual state of humanity ;
for if we assume, even preliminarily, the possibility that the
moral spirit of the race has fallen away from its harmony
with God, we yet thereby render it unsafe to infer that rela
tion from the present state of things, since from the dis
turbed harmony of man with God follows also the disturb
ance of his harmony with himself, and especially of that be
tween spirit and body. The true original relation can be
educed only, on the one hand, from Scriptural declarations
and from the living example of Christ, and, on the other,
from the Christian idea of creation. The simple fact that
all that God creates is good, is itself proof that the corporeality
created for the spirit can neither be a trammeling nor a nat
ural source of suffering for the same. Suffering and pain are
indeed means of educative chastening for man as sinful, but
for the unsinful their presence would be the reversing of all
moral order. In God's good-created world, men, were they
62 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 64.
unfallen, would receive their moral training through mani
festations of love, without the intervention of suffering and
pain ; to deny this would be to deny either God's love or his
power.
The sensuous corporeality in its uncorrupted primitiveness
can disturb neither the moral life by really immoral appe
tites, nor the feeling of happiness by pains and sickness, —
the aequale temperamentum qualitatum corporis (equipoise of
the qualities of the body) of the Apologia (i, 17) ; — in that
which was created good there can be no antagonism between
the life of the spirit and that of the body, nor between the
body and nature ; but every suffering, every pain, is evidence
of an antagonism, of an evil in its subject. In the Scriptures
all bodily sufferings are expressly traced back to sin [Gen.
iii, 16, 19; Rom. v, 12-21]; this is the only possible "theod
icy" in regard to human suffering. The body of the rational
spirit is under the dominion of that spirit, and not under
that of unspiritual nature ; and the spirit is under the power
of itself, and not under that of a nature-bound body ; and it
is only such a spirit as is free in every respect, — one that is
not rendered unfree by a hampering corporeality, — that is in
a condition to fulfill the whole of moral duty. In proportion
as the now actually spirit-hampering sensuous corporeality is
held to be the normal condition, and to answer to the divine
creative idea, in the same proportion must the moral life-task
also be lowered. And when Rationalism finds the true free
dom and moral emancipation of the spirit only in the freeing
of the same from the body, there is at least this much of
truth in the position, namely, that it is an admission that the
present bondage of the spirit under the manifoldly-hampering
power of the body is not in harmony with the true life of the
moral spirit. But whereas the evangelically-Christian con
sciousness refers this antagonism in God's world to the guilt
of man, Rationalism casts the responsibility for this condition
(which itself admits to be in contradiction to the moral idea)
upon Qod, and thereby, in fact, undermines the Christian idea
of God, and hence also the unconditional obligatoriness of
moral .duty. Ultra posse nemo obligatur (Obligation does not
transcend ability) ; this is an ancient truth valid not only in
the sphere of jurisprudence but also in that of morality.
§ 65.] PURE ETHICS. 63
SECTION LXV.
2. The body mediates the relation of the objective
world to the personal spirit, through the senses ; and
this mediation, as being established by the divine
creative will, is a truthful one. On the other hand,
the body mediates the active relation of the spirit to
the objective world, and, in subserving the spirit, it
thereby mediates the morally-essential dominion of
the spirit over nature, and is, hence, the necessary
and adequate organ of the moral spirit in its relation
to the external world, — and not that of nature for its
dominion over the spirit.
If the created spirit has surety of ability for knowing the
truth, this of itself implies that the knowledge mediated by
the senses must be real and true, — that sense-impressions
per se do not deceive us. ' ' The hearing ear and the seeing
eye, the Lord hath made even both of them" [Prov. xx, 12] ;
but God is a God of truth; and the solemn exhortation:
"Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created
these things ! " [Isa. xl, 26], is at the same time a guarantee
of the reliableness of the senses. If the senses deceive us,
then God deceives us. Just as without faith in God there is
no morality, so also, without confidence in the truthfulness
of the divinely established world-order — which of course in
cludes the vital relations of creatures to each other — a com
plete morality is impossible. Man cannot be under obliga
tion to be truthful, if creation is not so. The matter is
therefore not so morally indifferent as at first glance it might
seem. If God is to be seen in his works [Rom. i, 20] then
must these works speak truthfully to us. If sense-impres
sions have only subjective truth, then they have none at all,
and hence no worth whatever, — then we sustain no moral re
lation to the objective world, inasmuch as under such cir
cumstances it would have for us no existence. There could
then be no further question save of a moral duty of man to
himself or to God. Skepticism on this point is therefore no
6i CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§66.
less anti-moral than impious. Deceptions growing out of
false judgments as to per se true sense-impressions, must of
course not be confounded with the deception of sense-im
pressions themselves ; it is not the eye that sees the sky touch
the earth at the horizon, it is only a premature judgment
£hat leads .to this deception. Real sense-deceptions spring
of disease, but disease does not exist in a state of moral
purity.
The spirit is ,to dominate over nature, not directly, how
ever, by a mere magic-working will, but by the instrumen
tality of its own dominated body. The destination to this
domination is expressed even in the build of the human
body : erect, with upturned look, with hands planned for the
most manifold activity, the human body bears upon it the
impress as well as the reality of dominating power. While
Materialism subordinates spirit to nature, the Christian world-
view subordinates nature to spirit; and as the spirit is entirely
master over its body, so is it likewise master over nature by
means of the body. A childish, morally-unripe spirit cannot,
it is true, dominate nature at the will of its irrational whims,
— but we speak here only of the rational spirit, and in this
sphere the words, "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak, "
have no application; in normal man the flesh is also willing
and strong. Even as through the senses nature is open and
unlocked for the cognizing spirit, so is it also through the
bodily organs for the volitionating spirit. If the facts seem
otherwise in the present reality of things, if the body is no
longer an absolutely obedient medium for the dominion of the
spirit over nature, but on the contrary is much ofteuer a mere
instrument of nature for her dominating over the spirit, this
is simply because the right and primitive relation has been
disturbed, and has given place to the enfeebling influence of
sin.
SECTION LXVI.
3. The incipient limitation of the freedom of the
normally self-developing spirit by the body in conse
quence of the dependent condition of the latter on
external nature, is only the corresponding normal
expression of the btill existing unfreedorn of the, as
§ 66.] PURE ETHICS. 65
yet, unmatured spirit, and is therefore also the pro
tection of the same against its own immaturity,— a
divinely-intended means of discipline for the same.
But this primarily limiting relation of the body to
the spirit is only transient, and is not a real tram
meling. The body, while following in its own de
velopment the growth of the spirit in rationality and
freedom, passes gradually over from its at first pre
dominantly determining and conditioning character
to that of being predominantly determined and con
ditioned by the spirit ; and in its ultimate perfection,
— as corresponding to the full moral maturity of the
spirit, — it becomes perfectly spirit-imbued and spirit-
appropriated, — the absolutely subservient organ of the
emancipated spirit, — becomes a perfectly spiritualized
and transfigured body, which latter, as being de
veloped by a regular growth out of the original un-
free nature-body, is conditioned neither on a violent
death of the nature-body nor is subject itself to death,
seeing that it is simply the necessary and normal
organ of the immortal spirit.
It would be an injustice in the Creator, and a God-repug
nant defect in creation, were the essentially free and morally
matured spirit bound in unfreedom by a per se irrational na
ture; and the anti-scriptural notion, that the rational spirit
has been banished into a body, as into a prison, in punish
ment for the sins of a previous life, would then be the sole
possible justification of the Creator. But the conditional un
freedom of the spirit such as we must admit also for the
unfallen state, namely, that it is limited by the natural al
ternation of sleeping and waking [comp. Gen. ii, 21] by the
natural wants of food, etc., [comp. Gen. i, 29, 30], is not
against but for the spirit. It reminds the personal spirit of
its belonging to the per se unitary and law-governed All, its
regulated connection with nature ; it protects the, as yet, inex-
VOL. II— 6
66 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 66.
perienced spirit from unwise presumption, from arbitrary irra
tional meddling with the divinely-established order of the
world, — teaches it to submit itself to the divinely- willed and
ordered laws of existence, teaches it humility, and brings to
its consciousness its dependence on God's power, thereby im
pressing upon it the lesson that it can attain to true freedom
only by a free and cheerful self-denial in relation to the will
of God. Hunger, e. g., is the most powerful stimulus to
activity, and hence to the development of the spirit, and ever
since the entrance of sin into the race there has been no other
so sure and effectual a means of stirring up the spirit out of
its slothful indolence [Prov. xvi, 26, in the original]. In the
present state of man hunger is not only of significance for the
individual, it is a world-historical power, the first and most
persistent stimulus to civilization. Unf alien humanity, it is-
true, knows nothing of any hunger-stress, but it knows it as a
want requiring satisfaction ; and it is not a feature of the suffer
ing but of the true humanity of Christ, that he also felt hunger.
That which was a disciplining beginning, however, is not to
be permanent ; but it is not the body, but only the limiting
power of the same that is to pass away. The view that the
body is not a permanent condition of the spirit, but only a
prison-house destined to destruction, — a merely useless bur
dening incident of the spirit, — is a very favorite one, it is
true, but it is a very un-Christian one. What God does is
done well, and he has given the body to the spirit for perfect
service, and not for a burden and a clog. Of the notion that
the original body is only a worthless case or husk, to be cast
off like the chrysalis of the butterfly, the Scriptures know
nothing; — the dissolving of the earthly house [2 Cor. v, 1] ap
plies only to the body of sin and death [Gen. iii, 19] ; — the body
is originally, on the contrary, the divinely-established perma
nent condition of true life, though indeed not an absolutely
necessary condition of the life of the spirit in general. Christ,
the perfect man, shows in his own person what the human
body signifies and is ; Christ's resurrection is a stone of stum
bling for all one-sided spiritualism. Christ lives on, not as a
mere bodiless spirit, but in his now glorified body, and he will
transfigure our sin-ruined body that it may be like unto his
glorious body [Phil, iii, 21]. This transfiguration, though
§ 66.] PURE ETHICS. 67
without death — not a being unclothed, but a being clothed
upon [2 Cor. v, 4] — is the original purpose of the body given
to the immortal spirit as its subservient organ. The spirit's
body is in fact, as such, no longer a mere nature-object, but,
as the exclusive possession of an immortal subject, it is also
itself raised above the perishableness incident to all mere
nature-objects. — Death is in the Scriptures uniformly referred
back to sin; and the great emphasis which the New Testa
ment lays upon the resurrection of the body indicates what
the original body was to have been. If it is the moral des
tination of the spirit to be free, to dominate by reason over
the merely natural, then death, as a violent interruption of
life, comes into direct antagonism with this destination; it
indicates a complete ascendency of unconscious nature over
spirit, the impotency of the spirit in the face of nature — a
condition of the real bondage of spirit to nature. Were this
wide-reaching antagonism between the actual state and the
moral nature of the spirit the original condition, and were it
included in the nature of things or in the creative will itself,
then the nerve of all morality would be paralyzed, and all
moral courage broken. To struggle against too great odds is
folly; if irrational nature is more powerful than the moral
spirit, then the latter can rationally take no better course
than to yield to superior force, and to place its own sensuous
nature higher than its spiritual.
C.— THE UNITY OF THE SPIRIT AND THE BODY.
SECTION LXYII.
In virtue of the union of spirit and body into one
personality, the spirit is manifoldly determined also
in its moral life, and it appears in consequence under
different phases of existence, which occasion also
correspondingly different manifestations of morality.
1. The stages of life. The spirit is dependent in
its development on that of the body, not absolutely,
however, but only relatively ; the development-stages
of the moral spirit — which do not entirely coincide
68 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 67.
with those of the body, but only in general and
partially run parallel therewith — are the following : —
(a) The stage of moral minority, childhood. Here
the body is as yet master over the spirit ; the spirit
is as yet in most things essentially unfree — dependent
on outer, sensuous, and spiritual influences, — is more
guided than self-guiding. — (J) The stage of transition
to majority, — still wavering between freedom and
unfreedom ; morality appears essentially under the
form of free obedience toward educators. — (c) The
stage of moral majority. The person has come into
possession of himself, — is actually master over him
self as regards moral self-determination, is able by
his moral consciousness to guide himself independ
ently; hence he is fully morally responsible, and is
in process of developing an independent character. —
A relapsing of the morally matured into a state of
moral irresponsibility, a becoming childish, is not
conceivable in a normal condition of humanity,
though here there would doubtless, indeed, be a
greater turning away from merely earthly things,
and a growing preoccupation with the supernatural,
— in tlie stage of moral old age.
The development of a spirit as united with a body, consists
in one of its phases in the fact that it more and more throws
off its primarily normal greater dependence on the corporeal
life, — that it becomes freer, ripens toward maturity. Al
though we cannot conceive of the first created human beings
as beginning life in a state of unconscious childhood, still the
above-mentioned stages of life, seeing that they are implied
in the very nature of self-development, must hold good, at
least, of all succeeding generations ; and even the first man
could not appear at once as a perfectly mature, morally-ripened
spirit, but had to pass through similar stages of development.
According to the naturalistic view, the spiritual development
§ 67.] PURE ETHICS. 69
is exclusively and absolutely conditioned on that of the body
— is only the bloom and vigor of the same. This assertion, as
well as the theory on which it is based, is refuted by the sim
ple matter of fact that spiritual development often far outruns
that of the body, and in fact in a normal development must
do so, and also that in persons of precisely equal bodily de
velopment, the spiritual ripeness may be very widely different.
In an as yet unmatured body there may be a mature spirit, in a
weak and ailing body, a strong spirit ; this would be incon
ceivable on the naturalistic hypothesis. But especially the
moral development may come to ripeness of character much
earlier than the corporeal life ; growth in knowledge is much
more dependent on the development of the body ; the under
standing does not outrun the years, and children that are
early ripe intellectually, are usually morbid phenomena; but
a very youthful soul may acquire a real and firm moral char
acter. The proverb, "Youth is without virtue," in so far
as it is meant to be an excuse, is absolutely immoral and
perverse.
In consequence of the normal super-ordination of the spirit
to the body, the spiritual development-stages do not coincide,
in point of time, with the corresponding bodily stages, but
precede them somewhat. The first stage is that of childlike
innocence, where the child as yet knows not how to distin
guish between good and evil [Isa. vii, 16], where, as yet, the
moral consciousness slumbers, and the life-activity does not
spring from a will conscious of a moral purpose, but, on the
contrary, from unconscious feelings which are directly excited
by external or sensuous influences; hence an accountability
proper cannot as yet be presumed. The child has indeed
propensions and aversions, love and anger, and other states
of feeling, but it does not have them intelligently, — is not
as yet in spiritual self-possession. Obedience is, as yet, a
mere scarcely-conscious following, taking its rise simply from
natural feelings and from the instinct of imitation, and which
is indeed a germ of morality, though not, as yet, actual
morality, but is, in fact, also found to some extent among
domesticated animals. The typical character of children as
presented by Christ [Matt, xviii, 3] does not relate to any
moral perfection in them, but only to their receptiveness for
70 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 67.
moral impressions, to their innocence, to their consciousness
of need, and their readiness to believe.
The stage of transition, or youth, is the time when the per
son can distinguish between good and evil, and where, conse
quently, there exists a real moral consciousness, though not
one that is thoroughly formed and in every case self -determin
ing, but only primarily a consciousness of good and evil in
general, and the particular application of which in single
cases is, for the most part, not left to personal free self-deter
mination, but to the guidance of educators. The boy has the
definite law, as yet, only in an objective manner, in the will
of his parents ; his moral consciousness sketches only general
outlines, — for the more definite traits and shades it is as yet
dependent on some other, to him objective, consciousness.
Hence the most characteristic form of the morality of this
period is obedience ; and the greatest danger to morality, so
long as this partial uncertainty yet remains, is the tendency,
readily resulting from the incipient consciousness of moral
self-determination, to wish to determine one's conduct in par
ticular cases directly and immediately from the, as yet, only
general and indefinite moral consciousness,— that is, the tend
ency to premature freedom, the pleasure in an unregulated
enjoyment of freedom, in arbitrary self-determination. This
in fact was the danger to which our first parents fell a prey.
The stage of moral maturity, in a normal development, far
more than overtakes that of bodily ripeness. While civil law
fixes the civil majority, that is, the time of ripe understand
ing, at the period of full bodily maturity, the moral com
munity, the Church, declares man as morally mature much
earlier (confirmation) ; also the state fixes full moral respon
sibility much earlier than the civil majority. These dis
tinctions rest on well-grounded experience. The young man
knows not merely moral duty in general, but he is also capa
ble of conforming his life thereto in particular. Obedience to
parents or gunrdians assumes now the form of obedience to
the moral law, which latter indeed includes the former, but
no longer as an essentially unconditional obedience, but sim
ply as one that is to be subordinated to the moral law. But a
morally mature person can come into an actual conjuncture
where it is necessary to refuse obedience to parents, only on
§67.] PURE ETHICS. 71
the presupposition of a morally disordered state of humanity ;
and also civil law finds in such obedience, after years of moral
majority, no excuse for criminal acts.
The becoming-childish of the aged would be a very weighty
reason for doubting of personal immortality, were it a normal
phenomenon of old age. When, however, we consider that
even in the present sin-disordered condition of the race, this
becoming-childish is by no means a necessary and universal
phenomenon, but that, on the contrary, the fruit of a morally-
pious life — even in far advanced age, and despite the other
wise slumber-like obscuration of the intellectual faculties — is a
heightening of the religious and moral consciousness, and that
even the better forms of heathenism consider reverence for the
moral wisdom of the aged as a high virtue, — we can readily,
then, infer from this, how little room there would be for a real
becoming-childish in any respect whatever in an unfallen state
of humanity. Precisely what would have been the character
istics of normal old age in a sinless state, we know not ; this
much, however, we do know, that the life of an immortal
spirit, as being destined to a higher ennoblement or trans
figuration, and as not subject to a positive violent death,
could not be liable to a return to a state of moral minority, —
at the farthest it would only have prepared itself for this
freely self-accomplishing ennobling, by a greater turning
away from earthly things. All senility of age we can regard
only as an absolutely abnormal sin-born phenomenon, seeing
that it stands in manifest antagonism to the nature and des
tination of the personal spirit.
SECTION LXVIH.
2. Differences of temperament — the different tem
pers of the spirit in its bearing toward the outer
world, as determined by differences of bodily pecul
iarity. These differences are — as an expression of
that manifoldness of being which is necessary to the
perfection of the whole — per se good, and give rise
to a vital reciprocalness of relation among the mem
bers of society. As mere natural determinations of
72 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 68.
the spirit they have primarily no moral significance ;
they receive such, however, as conditions of the
moral life. They do not constitute moral character ;
on the contrary, they are, in their disproportionate-
ness, to be controlled by the character, and trained
into virtue. — Related to the temperaments are the
normal differences in the natural peculiarities of
nations.
From a naturalistic stand-point great importance is attrib
uted to temperaments, as if they were original moral deter
minations. But that which is original and merely natural is
not as yet moral ; it is only the antecedent condition of the
moral. Moral character is not determined by nature, but only
by the free action of man himself; in proportion as we con
sider the moral as determined by nature, we destroy its very
essence. While the ancients considered the temperaments
rather in their purely corporeal significance, in recent times
emphasis is often given rather to their spiritually-moral signif
icance, to the detriment of morality. On this point there
has been much fallacious speculation, and the inclination is in
many respects manifest, to attempt to comprehend man in his
moral peculiarity from mere nature-circumstances, rather than
honestly to look into his moral nature — to search his heart ;
and men are very ready to excuse their moral foibles and
vices on the score of temperament ; this course is naturalistic,
and, in fact, materialistic. Temperament is, essentially, sim
ply the normal basis on which morality is to develop itself ;
it does not, however, itself determine the moral life-task, but
only has influence in throwing it into its peculiar form; he
whose character is shaped only by his temperament has no
character. The moral character stands above all temperament ;
and where there are different and opposed temperaments like
moral characters may be formed, and the converse. Temper
aments are not per se a peculiarity of the spirit, but are based
in that of the corporeal life, and pass over upon the spirit
only by virtue of a kind of communicatio idiomatum. It is
usual to distinguish four temperaments, — according to the
susceptibility for external influences, and to the active bearing
§68.] PURE ETHICS. 73
toward the outer world : (1) that which is very open for out
ward impressions, and is at the same time more acted upon
from without, than self-active — the light, sanguine tempera
ment ; — (2) that which is very open for outward impressions,
but is at the same time rather self-active, initiatively working,
and influencing the outer world — the warm, choleric tempera
ment; — (3) that which is less receptive for outward impres
sions, and at the same time rather inactive, indifferent — the
cool, phlegmatic temperament ; — (4) that which, while equally
feebly-receptive for outward impressions, is yet more active,
storing up in itself what it receives — the heavy melancholic
temperament. — The types of temperament, however, do not
usually appear under these pure forms; generally they are
commingled and toned down. Nor does a temperament al
ways remain the same, but it changes with the outward rela
tions and age of the person.
As the moral person is not to permit himself to be deter
mined by the irrational, but should himself freely determine
himself on the basis of the moral consciousness, hence he is
all the more moral the more he subordinates his temperament
to his moral will, — not cultivating simply those virtues which
are more congenial to his temperament, as, for example, friend
liness in the sanguine, patience in the phlegmatic, courage
in the choleric, etc. Morality consists rather, on the con
trary, in the inner harmony of all the different moral phases,
and must consequently counteract the one-sidedness of any
particular temperament. The light temperament tends to
frivolity, the warm to passionateness and revenge, the cool to
indifference and indolence, the heavy to selfishness and nar
rowness. He who leaves his temperament unbridled, culti
vates not its virtue but its defect ; for virtue is never a mere
nature-proclivity. As a peculiar endowment, temperament,
like every other endowment, must be morally shaped, and
hence brought into proper harmony with the moral whole of
the life. No sin finds a moral justification in temperament ;
and, on the other hand, only that course of action is morally
good which springs not merely from temperament, but from
the moral consciousness.
The differences of natural national peculiarities are related
to the difference of temperament. Also in a sinless state, a
74 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§69.
diversity among nations, a difference of taste, etc., arising
primarily from differences of country, would be perfectly nor
mal and necessary [Acts xvii, 26]. As the mountaineer is
different in his entire bodily and spiritual temper from the
dweller in the plain, the inhabitant of the North from him of
the Tropics, etc., so there arises therefrom a diversity of forms
of the moral lif^-work, — which, however, cannot come into
hostile antagonism with each other, but in fact constitute a
stimulating diversity, from which arises an all the greater and
more vital harmony of the whole. Labor and enjoyment, the
family-life and the life of society, will necessarily assume dif
ferent forms ; and the proper development and preservation
of the normal peculiarities of nations form an essential feat
ure of general moral perfection. It is not as a progress of
spiritual and moral culture, but to some extent as a perver
sion thereof, that we must regard the tendency manifested in
recent times to sweep away, to a large extent, the peculiarities
of nations, and to bring about the greatest possible uniformity.
Manifoldness of language and spirit is not confusion, and it
has, as opposed to a bald, lifeless monotony, its legitimate
moral right. The sons of Jacob, as differing in character,
imparted also a normal difference to the tribes in Israel ;
nevertheless one spirit could and should have pervaded them
all.
SECTION LXIX.
3. The difference of sex conditions a correspond
ingly different peculiarity of the moral life-work.
Man represents the out ward- working, productive
phase of humanity, woman the receptive and forma
tive, — he more the spirit-phase, she more the nature-
phase ; in him preponderate thought and will ; in
her rather the feelings, the heart; to man it is
more peculiar to act initiatively, — to woman rather,
morally to associate herself. The moral life-work of
each is different in the details, but in both it is of
like dignity; it is sinrply two different mutually-
complementing phases of the %anie morality. The
§69.] PUEE ETHICS. 75
morality of both sexes consists, in fact, in especially
developing that phase of the moral life that is
peculiar to each, — not as strictly the same as, but as
in harmony with, the peculiarity of the other.
The antithesis of the two sexes is the highest spiritualized
manifestation of that primitive antithesis of the operative and
the reposing, the active and the, passive, that conditions all
earthly life, — that assumes an endless variety of forms, and
appears in .each single phenomenon of the world under some
of its many forms of combination. Nowhere do we find mere
force, nowhere mere matter, but every-where in nature both
are united ; and yet they are not the same. "What this
primitive antithesis is in nature, — what the greater antitheses
of the light and the heavy, repulsion and attraction, motion
and rest, sun and planet, animal and plant, arteries and veins,
etc., are, — this is, in highest refinement and perfection, the an
tithesis of man and woman in humanity. That the nature-
phase is somewhat more prominent in woman than in man is.
evidenced also by the earlier physical development and
maturity of the female sex, and by the greater dependence on
nature and on the changes of the seasons in the entire female
sex-life. The higher intellectual power is undoubtedly with
man, and the moral subordination of woman to man in wed
lock and in society is an unmistakable law of universal order.
The difference of the two sexes is not to be toned down, but
to be developed into moral harmony. As an effeminate man
or masculine woman is offensive to the esthetic sense, and a
hermaphrodite repugnant to uncorrupted feelings, and a sex
less form expressionless and unnatural, so also, in moral re
spects, it is the duty of man to cultivate his manliness, and of
woman to cultivate her womanliness ; and any assumption by
one party of the peculiarities of the opposite sex, is not only
unnatural but also immoral.
76 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 70.
H. THE COMMUNITY-LIFE AS A MORAL SUBJECT.
SECTION LXX.
Man is not simply an individual being, but, by
virtue of his moral rationality, which seeks every
where to reduce the manifold to unity, he effects also
a moral community-life, a community of persons, to
which the individual is related as a serving member,
and which has in turn itself a definite moral life-
purpose, to the fulfilling of which the individual
members are indeed called, though this moral life-
purpose, that is to be carried out by the individual,
is not identical with the life-work which he, as a
personal individual, has to fulfill for himself. A
plurality of persons constitutes a moral community-
life only when, in virtue of a real common-conscious
ness, and a common moral life-purpose, they are
molded into a life-unity, so that the individual
members bring not only the whole into active rela
tion to themselves, but also and essentially themselves
into active relation to the whole; and the moral life
of the individual is the more perfect the more it
develops itself into a life of the whole ; and the ulti
mate goal of moral development is, that all humanity
become a unitary moral community. The true
morality of the individual assumes therefore always
a twofold form : one that is personally-individual, and1
one that is an expression of the moral life-purpose of
the community-life, and in the name of which it ful
fills that purpose ; neither is subordinate to the
other, but they stand in vital reciprocity of relation.
The notion of the community-life as a moral subject is of
very great significance for ethics. Heathenism attained to it
but very imperfectly, inasmuch as the thought of the unity of
§ 70.] PURE ETHICS. 77
mankind was entirely wanting, and as where the community-
life was most prominent — in China — there only a naturalistic,
mechanical world-theory prevailed, and as, on the contrary,
where the personal spirit came into prominence — in the Occi
dent — there it did so only in the form of the strong individual
will, — that is, the will did not appear as general but as indi
vidual and arbitrary, so that the community-life itself bore
the impress of the individual will. In the Israelitic theocracy
we find, in virtue of the divine disciplinary purpose, only
the embryonic beginnings of the community-life ; as yet,
the morality of the individual prevails over the collective
morality. But to the idea of the latter itself there is very
clear allusion. The words, "I will make of thee a great
nation; ... in thee shall all families of the earth be
blessed" [Gen. xii, 2, 3], are not a mere blessing, but they
imply also for Abraham ^i moral duty, namely, that he live
not for himself, but also for his people, and through them for
the whole race, — that he work and act not merely as Abram
but as Abraham, as the father of nations [Gen. xvii, 5].
Christianity brought the great idea to realization ; the truth
that makes man truly free rendered again possible the found
ing of a true moral community, — primarily as the Church, but
then also as the Christian state. The idea of moral com
munion becomes here at once a fundamental one. Personal
communion with the personal Son of God and of Man as chief,
creates the true, vital moral community-life; the individual
lives for the community and the community for the individual,
and both through Christ and for Christ. This circumstance
is very suggestive as to the moral destination of humanity as
sinless.
The moral activity of the individual person as such is
clearly to be distinguished from the moral activity of the
same as an embodiment of the public morality. The mere
circumstance, that in a state of sinfulness these two forms of
morality may appear in antithesis and contradiction— that a
man may perform his duty as a citizen to a certain degree of
serviceableness, while his personal morality stands very low —
shows that in the thing itself there is a real difference. What
I do as a vital member of the moral community — as it were
out of the spirit of the same, and to some extent, in the name
78 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ TO.
of and as representing the same, that is, what I do, not because
I am a moral individual, but because I belong, as a part, to a
moral community, — that must of course, under circumstances
of moral maturity, be in entire harmony with my personal
moral disposition ; but harmony is not identity. As repre
senting the moral community-life and the common conscious
ness, my personal individual will retires essentially into the
back-ground, and the public spirit possesses me and guides
me, — rules sovereignly in me, and thrusts aside even my
otherwise legitimate individual weal. The warrior, in fight
ing for his country, acts not from his personal individual will ;
he seeks, in case he enters into it morally, nothing for him
self, but every thing solely for his country ; he sacrifices his
personal right to domestic happiness, to quiet labor, to legiti
mate enjoyments, and even his life itself, for the community,
— not as a personal individual, btft as a vital member of the
nation. The morality of the individual bears more a mas
culine, that of the community more a feminine character, in
asmuch as in the latter case there is a predominancy of yield
ing to influence, of self-associating, of devotion even to
sacrifice. The moral honor of a community is other than that
of the individual ; when the soldier defends the flag of his
regiment, it is not, or should not be, his own honor, but that
of the entire body, that prompts him; and where there is
honor, there there is also morality.
The distinction of this twofold morality presents itself,
under one of the special forms of the second phase, namely,
official morality, as recognizable also outwardly. What the
clergyman, the soldier, the judge does officially, is also
morality, but it is not by any means identical with his personal
morality, as is shown even by the fact of the different degrees
of censure incurred for violations of duty in the two spheres.*
An untruth, a deception, perpetrated in official activity, is
much more severely punished, and deserves also severer moral
rebuke, than a like act done in non-official life. He who is
acting in a public capacity is not at liberty to overlook an
offered indignity, while his very first duty when insulted in a
private capacity, is, to manifest a readiness for reconciliation.
The moral community often expresses this difference in the
fact that those who act principally and professionally in its
§70.] PURE ETHICS. 79
name, wear a special official garb, so that the entire external
appearance and bearing of such public persons are not gov
erned merely by their personally free self-determination, but
bear the impress of that which transcends the individual will,
namely, the community-life ; personal character, while realiz
ing public morality, falls back behind the character of the
community-life. Nevertheless it is true that the whole moral
activity and life of the individual contributes essentially to
the honor or shame of the family and of the community to
which he belongs [Lev. xxi, 9], so that consequently this dis
tinction of a twofold moral sphere of activity does not amount
to a real separation.
80 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ Tl.
CHAPTER II.
GOD AS THE GROUND AND PROTOTYPE OF THE MORAL
LIFE AND AS THE AUTHOR OF THE LAW.
SECTION LXXI.
As morality is connected with religion in an indis-
solubly vital unity, hence the God-consciousness is
the necessary presupposition and condition of mo
rality, and the character and degree of the morality
is consequently also conditioned on the character and
degree of the God-consciousness, although a higher
degree of the latter does not necessarily work also a
higher degree of morality. Hence true morality is
only there possible where there is a true God-
consciousness, that is, where God is not conceived
of as in some manner limited, but as the infinite
Spirit in the fullest sense of the word. Only where
the moral idea has its absolutely perfect reality, in
the personal holy God, has morality a firm basis, true
contents, and an unconditional goal.
If morality is in any manner conditioned by religion, then
is also the quality of this morality different in different re
ligions. We have already shown that morality is not condi
tioned by the mere God-consciousness, but only by it as
having grown into religion, for a God-consciousness which
does not become a religious one, but remains mere knowl
edge, cannot become a moral power ; and this is the simple
explanation of the fact, that while a feebler God-consciousness
cannot produce a higher degree of morality, yet a higher
God-consciousness does not necessarily create also a higher
degree of morality, — namely, when it does not develop itself
§71.] PURE ETHICS. 81
into a religious life-power. When it does so develop itself,
however, then it is unconditionally true that the degree of
morality perfectly corresponds to the degree of God-con
sciousness; — otherwise we would be forced to modify our
previously assumed position, that religion and morality are
two indissolubly united and mutually absolutely conditioning
phases of one and the same spiritual life. Where God is
conceived of as merely an unspiritual nature-force, as in
China and India, there morality cannot rest on the free moral
personality of man, but, on the contrary, it must throw the
personality into the back-ground as illegitimate ; where the
divine is conceived of only in the form of an antagonism of
mutually hostile divinities, as with the Persians, there the
moral idea lacks its unconditional obligatoriness, and in fact
the contra-moral has its relative justification; and where the
divine is conceived of as a plurality of limited individual
personalities, there the sphere of morality is invaded by the
pretensions of the arbitrarily self-determining subject, and
moral action lacks a solid basis. It is only where there is a
consciousness of the infinite personal Spirit that both the
moral personality is free, and the moral idea absolutely un
conditional and sure. The heathen do not really have the
divine law; they have only, lying in the very nature of the
rational spirit, an unconscious presentiment of the same
[Rom. ii, 14, 15]. — Though Polytheism is with us no longer
in fashion, still we are all the more infested with Pantheism,
or such a form of Deism as differs therefrom only by an
unscientific arbitrary inconsequence, — not, however, by any
means with that vigorous and comparatively respectable
Pantheism of India which drew, with moral earnestness, the
full practical consequence of its world-theory, and presented
in an actually-carried-out renunciation of the world the very
contrary of our natural and legitimate claim to happiness, —
but, on the contrary, with a Pantheism that is in every
respect morbid and characterless, and which, greedy of en
joyment, delights itself in a world robbed of God. Pan
theism lacks the antecedent condition of all morality, namely,
personal freedom ; with the universal prevalence of uncondi
tional necessity there is no place for choice and self-deter
mination ; it also lacks a moral purpose, seeing that it knows
VOL. II— 7
82 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 72.
no ideal, reality-transcending goal of morality, but, on the
contrary, must acknowledge the real as per se the fulfillment
. of the ideal, that is, as good, — and for the reason that that
which appears as a goal of life-development, is, in fact,
realized from necessity ; it lacks also a moral motive, for the
sole causative ground of the absolutely necessary life-develop
ment is, as unfree and as unfreely-acting, non-moral, — is only
a conscious nature-impulse. On the assumption that the
entire being and activity of the individual is simply a neces
sary expression of the existence and life which God generates
for himself in the world, it follows that each and every being
is fully and perfectly justified in whatever nature and activity
he may chance to appear, and no one can reproach another
because of any seeming moral depravity. The moral ten
dencies of Pantheism, and of the therewith essentially iden
tical Naturalism, must not be judged of from individual in
stances of men who are still unconsciously imbued with the
moral spirit of the community, but lather from the effects
that result where this world-theory has taken hold on the
mousey, — as at the time of the Ileign of Terror in France, and
in the bearing and aspirations of our more recent demagogues
of reform, nearly all of whom are imbued with Pantheistic
views.
SECTION LXXII.
The personal God is the basis of the moral, (1) in
that He, as holy will, is the eternal fountain and em
bodiment of the moral idea. The good is not a mere
object of a possible willing, not merely ought to be
willed, but is eternally willed by an eternal will, and
is nothing other than the contents of this will itself;
God is the absolutely moral spirit, the holy spirit —
perfectly at one with himself in his free personality,
and eternally self-consistent, — and who as such
guarantees to the moral life-task of his free creatures,
full truth, unconditional and permanent validity as
God's requirement, and unshaken certainty, and
perfect, constant unity and consistency.
§72.] PURE ETHICS. 83
Outside of the Christian God-consciousness the moral idea
lacks all certainty and strength. It is easy to say, that we
should do the good for its own sake, that the moral law pre
sents itself as a "categorical imperative," but in the reality of
life such generalities will not avail. For a mere idea without
any sort of reality, no human heart can grow actively warm ;
here there is at best only an intellectual interest, but not a
morally-practical one. The validity of the moral idea must
have a deeper basis than a mere intellectual process. Before
I can do the good for its own sake, I must love it ; before I
love it, I must with full certainty know it. So long as I am in
doubt as to what is good, or as to whether there is any good,
I have no object of love. The essence of the good, however,
implies that the same is not my merely subjective opinion,
but that it is universally valid — good per se. Now, should I
leave the God-consciousness out of sight, then there would
remain for me, in order to determine the unconditional
validity of a supposed moral precept, and to avoid the possi
bility of a mere arbitrary judgment, no other resort than the
impracticable test of Kant.* Suppose, however, that, apart
from religious faith, there were in fact a scientific source for
a certain knowledge of the moral law, still this would not yet
answer the purpose ; — not every one can be a philosopher, but
all are required to be moral. Hence the moral consciousness
cannot be based on mere scientific demonstrations, but must
have a basis available for all rational men; now just such a
resource is the God-consciousness. So soon as I know that a
mode of action is God's will, then am I perfectly certain that
it is good, that it has universal and unconditional validity ; —
I have not to infer that because it is universally valid, there
fore it is God's will, but the converse. Without certainty of
moral consciousness there can be no moral confidence ; in this
connection all doubt works ruin. The question is as to cer
tainty of moral consciousness, and hence essentially as to
God's will's becoming known to me.
So soon as there exists a consciousness of God, all good
must be referred absolutely to God's will; whatever God
wills is good, and whatever is good is God's will. The
* Namely: "Act so that the maxim of thy conduct shall be
adapted to become a universal law for all men."
84 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 72.
divine order of the world assumes, in the sphere of the free
will of creatures, the form of a moral command ; the "must "
becomes a "should;" this is not a lowering, but an exalting
of the law, for freely realized good is higher than the un-
freely realized, seeing that God himself is freedom. If a
moral duty is God's will, then I am also further certain that
it cannot be in real conflict with other moral duties. This is
the high moral significancy of faith in the living God, namely,
that it alone can give a full unity and certainty to the moral
consciousness ; with every limitation of the idea of God the
moral consciousness also becomes uncertain and doubtful.
Hence the Scriptures, even in the Old Testament, attribute
such high significancy to the unity and unchangeableness of
the holy and almighty God as moral law-giver, and base
thereon, in contrast to heathenism, all morality, — as, for ex
ample, in Gen. xvii, 1 ; Deut. vi, 4 sqq. ; x, 14, 17. In the
first passage God's omnipotence is emphasized in order to
awaken in man a consciousness of his dependence ; inasmuch
as all existence is absolutely in God's hand, therefore should
also man's free activity subordinate itself to Him, — therefore
also is the sinful effort to be independent of God, that is, to
be equal to God, unmitigated folly. Hence also he, who
walks before the Almighty, has the assurance that he will
attain to his goal ; thou canst, for the reason that tliou
shouldst, for it is God who places upon thee the " should."
But the certainty of the moral idea is only one of its
phases, the other is its actuating power. It is true, the idea
itself of the good should move the will; but its power is im
measurably greater when it is itself the expression of a holy
will than when it merely speaks to the human will. It is the
sacred awe of the Holy One that lends it this power. In a
mere idea I can have pleasure, but it cannot inspire me with
awe. The command that emanates from the Living One,
gives life; a mere idea pre-supposes life as a condition of its
efficacy. The moral idea becomes truly influential on the
personal spirit only by its being the actual will of a personal
God. "The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the
heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening
the eyes" [Psa. xix, 8J.
The question : is a thing good because God wills it, or does
§ 73.] PURE ETHICS. 85
God will it because it is good ? contains for us no contra
diction. It would do so, however, if the first clause meant,
that it is accidental and arbitrary that God declares this or
that to be good, and that He might also just as well have
declared good the very opposite (Duns Scotus, Occam, Des
cartes, Pufendorf). God cannot will anything else than
what is God-like — corresponding to his nature ; this ' ' can
not " is a limitation only in the form of expression, in reality
it is the highest perfection. A being that can come into con
tradiction and antagonism with itself, is not perfect. If the
good is that which corresponds to the divine nature, and if
God's will is necessarily an expression of his nature, then,
whatever is good is good because God wills it, and God wills
it because it is good. God's declaration : "I am that I am"
[Exod. iii, 14] is valid also for his holy volitions. The idea of
the good is not something existing without and apart from
God, it is a direct beam from his inner nature.
SECTION LXX1II.
God is the basis of the moral, (2), in that He re
veals himself in his universe as the Holy One, — dis
covers himself to man as the prototype of the moral,
as the personally holy pattern after which man should
form himself. In this consciousness of God as pro
totype of the moral, man conceives morality as God-
likeness, and himself, in his true moral dignity, as
God's image and as a child of God.
The idea of a moral self-revelation of God is of wide-
reaching moral significancy. Heathenism knows nothing of
such a self-revelation ; it is true, in the higher heathen relig
ions, moral laws are referred to a divine origin, but this sig
nifies simply either a revelation of the general laws of world-
order, or, at best, a revelation of the divine will in regard to
men, but not of the real moral nature of God. According to
the Christian world- view, the good is not merely to ~be realized,
but it exists already in full reality from eternity ; morality is
not to create something absolutely new, but only to shape the
86 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 73.
created after the model of its divine Creator; the free creature
is to become like the holy God, — to come into free harmony,
not simply with a naked idea but with an eternal reality.
As a consequence of this, morality has an incomparably higher
certainty and vitality than if the moral law appeared merely
under the form of an idea. There can be no more convincing
logic than the word : "Ye shall be holy, for- 1 the Lord your
God am holy " [Lev. xix, 2 ; xi, 44, 45 ; xx, 7 ; comp. Deut.
x, 17 sqq. ; I Pet. i, 15, 16; Eph. v, 1]; and Christ himself
repeatedly presents the moral essence of God as the true pat
tern for man, both in general and in particular [Matt, v, 48 ;
Luke vi, 36]. Even as in education there is no better moral
instruction than that by personal example, so is there also in
the moral education of humanity no more deeply influential
moral revelation than that of the holy personality of God ; and
as the child naturally seeks not so much to realize a lifeless
law as to become like a beloved and revered personal example,
so is it likewise the case in the moral development of humanity
in general ; and this is not childlike immaturity, but rational
truth ; and herein also is the child a proper example. In real
izing morality man does not present himself in the All as a
solitarily-shining star, but as a God-loved and God-loving
image of the invisible God, — as a human resplendence of His
holiness.
A much deeper impression than that made by the revelation
of the holy personality of God through speech, is made by
the revelation of the same by actual reality in the person of
Christ. We cannot answer here the oft proposed question as
to whether the Son of God would have become man even had
not sin entered into the world ; the Scriptures give us on this
point no decision; and even those who affirm it do not place
the advent of the perfect man at the beginning of the race.
Hence, even in this view, the coining of Christ is not held as
a necessary condition of the moral life. But as Christ is in
fact not merely the Redeemer suffering for and through sin,
but also the true personal manifestation of the perfect image
of God — the absolutely perfect prototype of human morality, —
hence, far «s, who are no longer in the condition of original
sinlcssness, the knowledge of pure morality is essentially con
ditioned on a knowledge of Christ. The first sin-free human
§-74.j PURE ETHICS. 87
beings needed not this historically-personal example in order
to have a truthful moral consciousness, and to be able to
realize morality ; but we need it — we who have had to be re
deemed from the curse and power of sin ; we need, also as a
help to a knowledge of the morality of unfallen man, this
example that did not rise out of sin but stood above it. In a
much higher degree, in fact, than Christ is the example for the
redeemed, is he the true criterion for a knowledge of unfallen
human nature; for there is much in the moral life of the
Christian for which Christ's own life cannot be a direct ex
ample ; for instance, the continuous struggle against the still-
remaining sin in the human heart, — in Christ there was no
such struggle ; to him every tiling that was sinful was foreign
and external, but never inward and personal. On the con
trary, there could be nothing in the moral life of unfallen
man which could not be directly connected with the person of
Christ, though indeed, not all the special phases of human
morality could have their particular expression in the life of
Christ. Thus we have occasion here to make at least allu
sion to Christ.
SECTION LXXIV.
God is the basis of the moral, (3), in that, omni-
presently ruling and judging in his universe, He
wisely, lovingly, arid justly guides and furthers
toward its eternal goal the moral life of his creatures,
without, however, interfering with their moral free
dom. This consciousness gives to the moral life full
confidence and joy in the fulfillment of the divine
will, and the proper fear of all that is ungodly.
The thought of a merely impersonal moral world-ordei may
seem in itself simple and attractive ; for real life, however, it
is of no efficiency. Even the proud equanimity of the Stoic
is unable definitively to find any better remedy for the antag
onism of the reality of existence with his self-conceived
ideals, than suicide ; and those who, in recent times, assum
ing that the Christian world-view is gloomy and unhumani-
tarian, prefer to it the domination of eternal impersonal
88 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 74.
necessity, and explain away all evil and anarchy as mere
appearance, gain after all from this pretended self-explaining
and all-reconciling view, little other profit than a complacent
satisfaction with themselves and with their own system. So
long as man cannot rid himself of his consciousness of free
dom and of the possibility of 'its misuse, as well as of his
consciousness of the reality of evil in the world, just so long-
will the notion of a world-order unembodied in a personal
God prove to be powerless. The Greek had a much higher
world-theory than that of ordinary Pantheism, and yet he
could not explain away the antagonism that exists between
the moral life and non-moral fate, or the excess of real evil ;
and he gave utterance, in his noblest intellectual productions,
either to a melancholy lament over the mysterious tragedy of
life, or to a blank hopelessness as to the triumph of the good.
Greek tragedy is, by far, more moral than the anti- Christian
Pantheism of recent date. To feel and bewail the antago
nism of existence even with out-spoken hopelessness, approx
imates more nearly the truth than to explain it away with
delusive sophistry. In a world where the misuse of moral
freedom may create evil and disturb the harmony of exist
ence, there can be hopefulness and confidence in moral effort
only in virtue of a firm faith in the personally-ruling almighty
and holy God ; without this there is for {he rational spirit no
possibility of an unshaken conviction that a truly moral con
duct will, in fact, bring real fruit, and not prove to be a use
less vain undertaking, an empty play of a restless activity-
instinct. — We are here as yet not dealing with a world actually
disordered by sin ; but also for the unfallen state all moral
effort becomes impossible, becomes even idle folly, so soon as
we assume even the possibility of a disturbance of the har
mony of the world, — unless there exists at tiie same time the
consciousness of a holy God freely ruling Move all creature-
life, and conducting the moral order of the universe. But
the possibility of sucli a disturbance through the misuse of
freedom, is directly implied in the idea of freedom. Hence
the notion of a merely general world-order without a per
sonally-ruling God does not suffice, even for the unfallen
state, to give to moral effort the necessary confidence. The
question is here as to a certainty not merely that the moral
§ 74.] • PURE ETHICS. 89
efforts of the individual will bear the expected fruit for him
self. — though we must consider this also as a perfectly legiti
mate claim, — but also, in general, that his moral efforts will
not be in vain for the furtherance of the perfection of the
whole, — will not be counteracted by the possibly interfering
power of evil. Without the confidence that by virtue of the
all-potent wisdom of the personal God, all truly moral effort
will bear legitimate fruit, and that evil can never prevent him
who continues faithful, from reaching the last and highest
goal of the moral, and that consequently the anarchy that
evil brings into the world will fall only on the heads of the
evil-doers, while even the ' ' prince of this world " can effect
nothing against the just [John xiv, 30], — without this confi
dence, the courage and vitality of all morality are paralyzed.
Also in the unfallen state human knowledge must still be
limited, — must be unable to see into the ultimate depths and
ends of existence, and least of all into the future. Hence,
without confidence there is no means of rising above doubt as
to the success of moral effort, and consequently also of a
degree of discouragement in the same. The true moral cour
age is not a blind defiance of fate, but a rejoicing in the con
sciousness that all tilings work to the good of those who love
God [Rom. vii, 28], and that "in Him we live and move and
have our being" [Acts xvii, 28], — that God, the ground and
source of all morality, is not far from any one of us, but
works in and with us for the accomplishment of his holy will.
— And as effort for the good can be potent only through con
fidence in God, so also is the moral dread of evil effectual only
through the fear of God. Not as if a mere fear of punishment
were to restrain man from evil, but rather a holy awe of the
holy and all-knowing God. This is also fear, — not, however,
slavish, selfish fear, but moral reverence, befitting shame in
the presence of the pure and holy One. To say that man
should shun evil even irrespectively of God, is empty talk;
if he believes in God, then he cannot leave Him out of thought
at the sight of evil ; and if he believes not in God, then he
believes also not in the holiness of the moral command, and
he will in fact not shun the evil, — he will simply deny it, as
modern observation proves. The fear of the Lord is the
beginning of wisdom, and also of morality [Psa. cxi, 10] ;
90 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. * §75.]
"fear the Lord and keep his commandments," says the
Preacher [Eccles. xii, 13] ; this is the fundamental idea of mo
rality in the Old Testament [comp. Dent, x, 12, 13]. There is
one Lawgiver and Judge who is able to save and destroy
[James iv, 12] ^ in the unity of the lawgiver and judge lies
the guarantee and holy potency of morality. Whoever be
lieves, not merely in an All, but in the living God, and knows
that all that is hidden from human eyes is known to the all-
knowing One, and that all secret sins rest under the curse of
Him who can kill and make alive, who can wound and heal,
and out of whose hand there is none that can deliver [Deut.
xxvii, 15 sqq. ; xxxii, 39], — such a one will evidently have a
very different dread of evil from that of him who regards
it as a mere world-inherent necessary transition-stage to
perfection.
SECTION LXXV.
God is the basis of the moral, (4), in that as holy
Lawgiver he reveals his eternal, holy will in time.
The totality of created being is, in the design of
the creative will, to be in harmony with God and
with itself. The idea of this harmony, as active in
God under the form of will, is God's law. Unfree
creatures have it as an inner necessity, and must
fulfill it ; free creatures have it as a moral command,
and should fulfill it ; for the former it exists as an
unconscious instinct or impulse, for the latter it is
revealed ; as God's law, it is made known to rational
creatures by revelation. The moral law is therefore
the revealed will of God as to the rational creature,
—namely, that the same should bring its entire life,
consciously and with free will, into harmony with
God's purpose.
A law which cannot be derived from God's will is not a
moral law, but at best a civil one. That the moral law is
based in the inner essence of the human reason is not contro
verted by the proposition, that it is God's will, but it is in
§ 75.] PURE ETH^S. 91
fact confirmed. Human reason is conditioned by the same
divine will which wills the good; and as, among the goods
which God himself created, the highest is reason, hence the
inner essence of the reason must involve also the moral, — not,
however, as something conditioned independently of God,
but in fact as God's will revealed to the reason, in so far as
the latter has kept itself unclouded. However, this moral
law, as immanent in the reason, is not to be conceived as im
plying that the rational will gives law unto itself; it is the
part of the will to submit itself to the law, but not to give it ;
the moral law is above the will, above human reason in general ;
and the latter, in its consciousness of the same, recognizes it
in fact as divine, and consequently as absolutely valid and
beyond the scope of human determination. As little as man
can give to himself reason and its dialectical laws, so little
ca.n he give to himself moral law. Freedom of will has to do
only with the fulfilling, but not with the conditioning of the
law. The morally cognizing reason simply finds revealed
within itself the divine law, but does not make it. The
Scriptures uniformly present the moral law as being essen
tially the will of God, without, however, thereby interfering
with the idea that the same is the expression of the inner
purpose of being itself. "Be ye transformed," says Paul,
[Rom. xii, 2], "by the renewing of your mind, that ye may
prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of
God ; " the " will " of God is here the fundamental ; any thing
is "good" only because it expresses the will of God which is
itself good per se ; the "acceptable" is that which is good
relatively to the spirit that is contemplating it, — that excites
approbation in the rational spirit, and is in harmony there
with, — in a word, that is in harmony with God and his
thoughts, and with God-related spirit in general; and the
"perfect," the goal-attaining, is whatever is the realization
of the divine and good end. Thus the apostle expresses the
essence of the good under all its phases; the good is good
both as to its origin, as to the cognizing spirit, and as to its
end.
92 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 16
SECTION LXXVI.
In treating of the moral law as tlie expression of
the divine will, we have two points to consider, first,
the communication of this law by God to man, and
then its inner essence.
I. THE REVELATION OF THE DIVINE WILL TO MAN.
This revelation reveals to us not only the contents
•of the divine law, but must also reveal it as the
divine will. This manifestation of the holy will of
God is of a twofold character. In reason, which is
the more especial embodiment of the divine image,
and which is consequently the God-ward phase of
man, man has the power of recognizing the divine
will in regard to reason, — the rational life-purpose
of the rational spirit. Hence, by virtue of his ration
ality, man has the divine law in himself as a per
sonal knowledge attained to through free self-de
velopment. The divine will-revelation is therefore
primarily an inner revelation within the rational
spirit conditioned by the creative will itself. As,
however, this knowledge cannot be a directly-given
one, but must be first attained to by morally-spiritual
activity, hence it cannot be for morality the sufficient
antecedent condition. There is a necessity therefore,
in order to the commencement of the morally-rational
life of humanity, of a special training of the same by
God unto moral knowledge, — of a direct extraordi
nary objective revelation by means of which man may
have from the very beginning a definite conscious
ness as to the divine will, and a firm guarantee of
the truth.
(a) The extraordinary, positive and supernatural
§ 76.] PURE ETHICS. 93
revelation of the divine will, in the educative guid
ance of man by God, precedes indeed his own reason-
knowledge as arising from the inner, general, natural
revelation, but in a normal development of man it
then gradually retires into the back-ground in pro
portion as his spiritual ripening advances. Its pur
pose is to awaken rational knowledge, and to conduct
the awakened spirit to its spiritual majority ; and
hence it involves the virtualizing of the moral free
dom and of the independent personality of the ra
tional spirit.
The seeming contradiction that lies in the facts, that
rational knowledge cannot be given in an immediate and
ready form, but must be first attained to through moral effort,
and that, on the other hand,, all moral activity presupposes
already the consciousness of the moral, is reconciled solely
and simply by the fact that the creating God is also an edu
cating one, — that He reveals to man Himself and his will, —
even as also the child does not ripen to reason and maturity
by being abandoned to itself, but by being educated by reason
and to reason, — by having the moral consciousness which as
yet slumbers in it awakened, by instruction, and, when once
awakened, then strengthened by actual moral example.
Without instruction and training the child never becomes
a truly rational person ; and when, in harmony with the
Christian system, we affirm the same thing of the first man,
we do not thereby state anything inconsistent with the nature
of man, but in fact simply that which is implied in the very
nature of rational spirit-development. If for a moment we
should, with Rousseau, conceive of the first generations of
man as in a condition of animal unculture, creeping on all
fours, and without speech, then we are utterly unable to learn
from any of the champions of this theory in what manner
these human-like animals could ever attain to reason and to a
moral consciousness. We have in fact, in the case of the un
civilized tribes of the race — who, low as they are, are yet not
so low as the above-supposed semi-men, — positive proof that
94 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 76.
man when once sunk into the condition of a savage never
again rises to a higher culture, of his own strength.
Without a consciousness of God and of his will, man is as
yet, on the whole, not rational ; but man was created by God
after his own image, and hence unto reason and unto morality.
This implies of itself that this consciousness was necessarily
shared in even by the first man. Now as man knows nothing
of nature save as nature communicates herself to him through
sensuous impressions, so also can man know nothing of God
unless God reveals himself to him; and in fact a God who
should not reveal himself is utterly unconceivable. If now a
consciousness of the moral, that is of God's will, is the neces
sary antecedent condition of all moral activity, and if, at the
same time, all real rational knowledge springs from a moral
using of such knowledge, then is it perfectly self-evident that
the beginning of this knowledge must have been directly
prompted by God himself. The fact that this first revelation
is termed, in distinction from the self-wrought-out knowledge,
an extraordinary and supernatural one, does not imply that it
stands in contradiction or antagonism to the inner revelation
in the self-developing spirit. On the contrary it is for the
development of humanity in general both very natural and in
harmony with general order; for, all life of individual
objects, both in the spiritual and in the natural world, re
quires a first stimulation, an awakening influence from other
already developed objects and beings ; and this stimulating
rises toward educative training in proportion as the perfection
of the species rises; man has therefore, by virtue of his
rational nature, a claim upon an educative influence from the
rational spirit; and this is in fact the historical revelation.
Man is not by his birth or creation already really a morally-
rational spirit, he becomes so only by an educative influence
from the rational spirit, and hence, in the case of the first
man, from a primarily objective revelation from God. This
revelation, however, does not remain, in this objective charac
ter, but, in stimulating man to a moral consciousness and to
moral activity, it brings him to the inner revelation in the
rational nature of man himself— to a consciousness of his own
God-likeness, and hence also to a consciousness of the divine
prototype. The first man sustained to God an absolutely
§ 76.] PURE ETHICS. 95
child-like relation, as to an educating father; and such is
precisely the Biblical account of the primitive state. If we do
not presuppose such an educative primitive revelation of the
moral, then, either the moral law would have to exist, (as in
irrational nature-creatures, so also in man) as a direct in
stinctive impulse, — in which case man would not be a moral
being, but only a peculiar species of animal; or, a rational
knowledge of the moral would have to be already created in
him, — which would be contrary to all our notions of man's
spiritual development, and surely a much greater miracle
than the one which it was designed to dispense with. That
which has no need of training is either not a rational being,
or it is God himself. The educative revelation presupposes
indeed a corresponding moral endowment in man; but this
moral endowment, the unconscious germ of the moralT has
need, in order to its developing itself into reality, of a spiritual
training. This training does not create the moral conscious
ness, but only awakens it — gives to it primarily definite con
tents, which the thus stimulated morally rational conscious
ness then perceives as not in antagonism but as in harmony
with itself, and for that very reason appropriates to itself.
In order to man's being really moral he must be conscious
that in his free acting he freely subordinates himself to the
will of God ; but he can do this only when he recognizes the
moral, not merely as such, but also as being of divine origin,
and this he can do only when he distinguishes the divine will
from his own ; this distinguishing, however, is possible, for
the first man, only when the divine will presents itself to him
as other than his own, as objective to him, — when God ex
pressly reveals himself to him. On this definite distinguishing
of one's own personal, from the divine will, depends all
morality ; a merely unconscious following of propension is
not moral, but immoral. Man must become conscious that he
does this or that act not simply because it pleases him, but
that it pleases him because it pleases God. In this conscious,
discriminating, free choosing of the divine will as distin
guished from the merely natural individual will, man is ex
pected to discover his essential difference from nature, his
belonging to the kingdom of God ; he is to learn to distin
guish between "can" and "should," between his ability
96 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 77.
and his obligation, and thus to become conscious of his
moral destination to freedom. Were the moral consciousness
or the moral impulse inborn in man, then he could not come
to a consciousness of his freedom — of his ability morally to
rise above his merely individual being, and freely to choose
the divine. Herein lies the high moral significancy of the
notion of an historical divine revelation. In the interest of
freedom, in the interest of the training of man into a moral
personality, we would have been forced philosophically, to
presuppose such a revelation, did we not already know of it
from Biblical teaching.
SECTION LXXVII.
(b) The inner revelation of the holy will of God
in the rational consciousness of man is not a mere
instinctive impulse, as this is the characteristic of
irrational nature-creatures, nor is it a mere feeling,
inasmuch as this, so far as relating to spiritual
things, always presupposes a knowledge, a conscious
ness, but it is a real consciousness, which, however, is
at first only obscure and indefinite, and receives
more definite contents only through educative reve
lation, whereby it is developed into full clearness.
The inner and the objective revelations, though
differing from each other as to the order of their
taking-place and as to their form, do not differ in
their essential contents, nor indeed as to their cer
tainty ; and the objective revelation is no more ren
dered superfluous by the inner one, than is the latter
by the former ; each mutually calls for the other.
Just as the educative influencing of the child does not
render superfluous its o^vn active moral self-development, but
in fact calls for the same as its end, and as the latter without
the former is not possible, so is it also with the twofold rev
elation. If the historical revelation did not lead to a knowl
edge of the moral law as immanent in this reason itself, man
§ 77.1 PURE ETHICS. 97
would remain in perpetual nonage, — would not come to a con
sciousness of his rationality; in fact this revelation has its
own withdrawal into the back-ground as its ultimate end, —
as indeed since the accomplishment of redemption it has act
ually, in a large degree, so withdrawn. — By inner revelation,
here, is not to be understood a real inspiration as in the case
of the prophets, for this would in fact be supernatural- and
extraordinary ; it is simply the gradual coming forward of the
divine image in man, — the rational spirit's becoming-conscious
of itself as such image. This becoming-conscious on the
part of one's own rational nature is properly called a revelation,
for the reason that this God-likeness is not conditioned by
man himself but is created by God in the state of a germ,
and is by the free activity of man, simply developed. The
positive revelation is the light whereby this divine image,
hidden in man's inner nature, becomes visible to his under
standing, or more properly, it is the warming sunlight under
whose influence the germ of rationality unfolds itself out of
secrecy into day. The inner revelation is neither in antago
nism to, nor is it identical with, the objective ; it is no more
in antagonism therewith than is man's own active self-develop
ment to moral maturity in antagonism with his training
received from others ; nor is it so nearly identical therewith
as to amount to a repetition of the same thing. Their
respective difference of origin continues to hold good also
for the morally mature ; even for the regenerated Christian,
though he possesses the law of the Spirit as a living power
within him, the historical revelation continues to serve as a
permanent unvarying basis for the development of his moral
consciousness, and as a sure criterion for testing the truth of
the light within him ; Christ came not to destroy the law. —
As in their origin, so also in their form, they are different;
the positive revelation bears a thoroughly historical character;
the inner, a psychological. The former assumes the form of
positive laws given at particular times, and through particular
personal instrumentalities ; the latter is continuous in every
individual throughout his life.
On this inner revelation through the God-likeness of the
rational spirit the Scriptures lay some stress, notwithstanding
that they speak of it simply in connection with man as per-
VOL. II— 8
^
98 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§77.
verted by sin, in whom the natural consciousness of God and
of his will is seriously obscured and in need of special illumi
nation, — for which reason the natural inner, and the super
natural inner, revelations are not strictly and formally
distinguished. In allusion to moral wisdom, it is said : " It
is the spirit in man, the breath of the Most High, that gives
him understanding" [Job xxxii, 8; comp. Prov. xx, 27]; and
it is prophesied of the new Covenant: " I will put my law in
their inward parts, and write it in their hearts" [Jer. xxxi, 33],
— as in contrast to the Old Covenant under which the law
was predominantly objective and in sharp antagonism to the
sin-blinded heart. But what is true of the New Covenant is
likewise true of the unfallen state. This prophecy refers, it
is true, to the working of the Holy Spirit, but unfallen man
was per se already filled with this Spirit. Paul speaks of a
natural consciousness of God and of the moral, even in the
heathen [Rom. i, 19 oqq.]', by how much more must this be
true of man as unfallen. This natural God-consciousness is
the general manifestation of that "life" which was the light
of men [John i, 4].
It is a favorite manner with some to speak of a moral
"feeling," and even of a moral instinctive "impulse," as
the primitive germ which subsequently develops itself into a
moral consciousness. If by such feeling or impulse so much
is meant as a knowledge as yet indistinct — a presentiment
rather than a comprehension, — we can readily admit it,
though in any case the expressions are very inappropriate,
and serve only to confusion. Understood in their proper
sense, we must emphatically reject them ; for feeling is simply
an immediate becoming-conscious of a state occasioned in
the subject by an impression, and is hence always of a merely
subjective and strictly individual nature, whereas the moral
law is per se necessarily objective and universal — an idea ; an
idea cannot be felt, but must be known, though indeed this
knowledge may be primarily as yet indistinct. A direct feel
ing can be occasioned only by a sensuous impression ; of spirit
ual things I can have a feeling properly so-called, only after
they have become an object of my cognizing consciousness ;
every feeling presupposes either a sensuous impression or an
idea, a conception. To consider feeling, Ih the sphere of the
§ 78.] PURE ETHICS. 99
religiously-moral, as the fundamental antecedent condition
tie/ore all knowledge, is simply to confound an, as yet indis
tinct, anticipatory consciousness with feeling proper, and
poorly serves to the attainment of scientific clearness. Still
less can we speak of a moral impulse, in the strict sense of
the word, as the primitive antecedent ; an impulse that does
not rest on a moral consciousness belongs not to the sphere of
the moral but to that of the merely natural, and in the exact
proportion that we attribute power to some such pretended
impulse, we violate the freedom of the will. If an uncon
scious impulse toward the good is the primitive antecedent in
man, then is a choice of the evil utterly impossible. If, how
ever, we should assume, as the primitive condition, that there
were in man contradictory impulses, the one toward the good,
the other toward the evil, still we would not, by this anarch
ical duality, safeguard the freedom of the will, if we did n^t
assume as above these mutually conflicting impulses, also a
higher moral consciousness, — whereby in fact the hypothesis
itself would be destroyed.
SECTION LXXVIII.
The revelation of the divine will to the moral sub
ject, as given in the rational self-consciousness, is
the conscience. This is not an originally ready power,
but, as given at first only in germ, it must be devel
oped, — stands in need of culture, primarily by God
himself, and, in all after the first generation, by the
already morally-matured spirit of men ; and with its
further moral development it constantly becomes
more definite, more clear and more rich in contents.
Now, as sin separates man from God and from the
knowledge of flim, and also damagingly affects the
moral training received from others, it is clear that
the conscience has its full purity and power only in a
sinless state. — As relating to the moral life-manifes
tations, the conscience appears as a morally-judging
power, and as sifch it is either in harmony with the
100 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 78.
particular manner of action — in which case it awak
ens a joyous feeling of approval, — or it is in antag
onism therewith, and in this case it awakens a painful
feeling of disapproval ; and either feeling prompts
to a corresponding course of action. As the con
science is a revelation of the moral law as the divine
will, hence it never exists without a God-consciousness,
— it is itself, in fact, one of the phases of this con
sciousness, and is per se of a religious character, and
is inexplicable from the mere world-consciousness.
In its germ it is a primitive and not a derived power,
and in this sense it is already presupposed on the
entrance of the positive divine revelation. The
ffbtual acceptance of this revelation is of itself already
a moral act which presupposes the conscience ; but
the latter is excited to activity and to full develop
ment only by the positive revelation. Conscience is
essentially an integral part of man's God-likeness, —
is, like rationality in general, a divine life-power
imparted to the creature.
The conscience is in its essence, not different from the God-
consciousness, but is only the bearing of the God-conscious
ness upon the moral ; as relating to the good, it relates also
to God, for none is good but God alone [Matt, xix, 17] ; and
God is the criterion of all good, for the good is the God-
answering ; a conscience which is not a God-consciousness is
a perverted, an unanchored one. As the conscience is an
inner revelation of God to man, we place its discussion in this
section, although it is an essential element of the moral sub
ject. — The manners of conceiving of the conscience differ
very widely ; it is, in turn, regarded either as a cognizing con
sciousness, or as a feeling, or as an instinctive impulse ; and
consequently it is sought for in all the different spheres of the
soul-life; it is indeed true that the conscience cannot be real
without embracing in itself all three of these spheres; and
hence the word may be used in all three significations. In
§ 78.] PURE ETHICS. 101
the expression: "Conscience says to me," or "it approves
this and rejects that," it is conceived of as a cognizing, .judg
ing consciousness; but we also speak of a joyous, or a chas
tising conscience; and again we say: "conscience compels
me to this act or deters me from it." The question, however,
is: which of the three phases is the primitive, the funda
mental one ? which constitutes the essence of the conscience ?
According to what we have previously said as to the relation of
feeling and willing to the cognizing consciousness, it follows
very plainly that the essence of the conscience is to be found
in that which its name directly expresses in various languages,
namely, a being-certain, hence a certain knowing, a cognizing
consciousness ; in -the New Testament the term aweidrjaif —
(from avvotda, conscious sum, strictly: "I am afellow-knower,"
and in a higher sense: "I know with God," in whom all
knowledge centers), — an associate knowing with God, in virtue
of his indwelling in rational creatures, is used of the co'n-
science, both in so far as it leads to the good (ayadrj aweidrjaif,
or KaMi or /caftzpd), and in so far as, by reproving, it punishes
evil [John viii, 9] ; and the same word is used also directly
in the sense of religious consciousness, presenting the con
science as a consciousness of the divine will [1 Peter ii, 19;
Rom. xiii, 5; Heb. ix, 9]. The conscience, as differing from
the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit [Rom. ix, 1], is
a power inherent in the essence of man per se, see Rom. ii,
14, 15 ; in this passage the hoytafioi are not the conscience,
but the reflections that spring from the conscience, which
itself is the "work of the law written in the hearts," that is,
the consciousness of the contents, of the requirements of the
moral law ; Paul is not speaking here of the true and perfect
conscience, but of the natural conscience of sinful man ; the
essential features of the true conscience, however, still lurk
in the disordered one ; and this essential character appears
here evidently as a consciousness of the moral. In the Old
Testament the conscience is designated by the word heart,
Mlb [Job xxvii, 6].
The conscience is not a mere simple knowing, it is an utter
ance of the practical reason, a direct judging of moral thoughts
and actions, an approving or condemning witness as to the moral
conductof man [2 Cor. i, 12 ; v, 11 ; Rom. xiv, 22 ; Acts xxiii, 1 ;
102 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 78.
xxiv, 16; 2 Tim. i, 3; 1 Peter iii, 16; Heb. xiii, 18]. Such a
judging presupposes the consciousness of amoral law, accord
ing to which the decisions are made ; and this consciousness
is the inner essence of conscience itself. The conscience is a
judging power, for the reason that it is per se a consciousness
of the law as the divine will; it utters itself discriminating
and deciding (npivuv) because it is mindful of the eternal
ground of the holy, — because it is the inner essence of the
divine image as coming to self-consciousness ; this latter is
the essence of the conscience, the judging is its active mani
festation. — The conscience can be awakened, cultivated, and
refined by human instruction, but not generated ; it is a per
petual witnessing of God as to himself and his holy will in
the rational spirit of man, and for this simple reason it is not
within the control of man, but is a power above him ; it may
be silenced temporarily, and led astray in its particular utter
ance as a discriminating power, but it can never be eradicated
nor definitively perverted. It is not the person, strictly speak
ing, who has the conscience, but it is the conscience that has
the person ; it dwells indeed in the individual personality, but
it is not itself of subjective character, since it is of divine
quality; it does not express my personal peculiarity, but the
holy will of God in regard to me. Conscience is the fact of
the divine morality in man antecedent to all human morality ;
it is the germ proper of man's God-likeness, — the God-like
ness itself as bearing relation to free conduct, in so far as this
consciousness constitutes a part of the essence of rationality.
Without this divine germ of the moral in man, morality
would be impossible — as impossible as is seeing without eye
sight, no matter how much light there might be, or instruction
without previously existing rationality as a basis. A convict
ing by argumentation is possible only when there is antece
dently existing in the subject some certain knowledge where
with the new truth shall agree. What axioms are in mathe
matics, that is the conscience in the moral sphere. He who
does not recognize the axioms, and hence has, as it were, no
mathematical conscience, is beyond the reach of instruction.
He alone can become rational and moral, and live so, who
is so already in the original structure of his being; and this
deepest ground of moral rationality is in fact the conscience.
§ 78.] PURE ETHICS. 103
He in whom the witness of the holy God does not witness for
the holy, cannot be moral ; but such an abandoned one there
cannot be in the entire creation of God, for to none has he
"left himself without witness." A man may become un
godly, may be unconscieutious, and yet not be free from the
power of conscience ; he may deprive himself of his eyes, but
not of his reason, and consequently not of his conscience.
For this simple reason, every sin is a fall of man from his own
proper nature, an unfaithfulness toward himself. Conscience
rests on the discrimination of the personal creature and its
will from the personal God and his will ; it finds its universal
expression in the words of the Lord: "Not my will but thine
be done." Whoever supposes himself to act from necessity,
or merely according to his own individual will, for him the
idea of the conscience is obscured ; the irreligious are neces
sarily unconscientious. It is for the simple reason that it is
not the individual ego, but the divine, that speaks in the con
science, that there can be a reproving, an evil, conscience, in
which the difference of this twofold ego appears in an irreduci
ble antithesis. But this voice of the divine ego does not
first come to the consciousness of the individual ego, from
• without; rather does every external revelation presuppose
already this inner one ; there must echo out from within man
something kindred to the outer revelation, in order to its be
ing recognized and accepted as divine. Even as Adam at the
first sight of the woman recognized at once that she was
flesh of his flesh, so recognizes man immediately on the utter
ance of the divine will by special revelation that this is spirit
of that spirit which dwells and speaks within him,— not, how
ever, as his individual ego, but as distinct from it, and as
having uncontested right to rule over it.
The first manifestation of conscience in the Scriptures
appears in the words wherein Eve opposes the temptation:
"We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden; but of
the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God
hath said: ye shall not eat of it." Here Eve distinguishes the
command, as the divine will, from her own will ; which
latter, however, she afterward carries out; but this adversely
judging conscience presupposes a previous first activity of the
same, namely, the recognition of the divine command as
10-4 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 78.
obligating. The command itself spoke in fact, primarily,
only to the understanding; the recognition of it as divine, as
a legitimate determining authority for the individual will, the
receiving of it into the heart, and the willingness to conform
the individual volitions to it, — all this is not a matter of the
cognizing understanding, nor in general of the individual
spirit as such, but of that divine element in man which re
sponds to the divine command — the conscience; and in the
very first utterance of this power, it shows itself primarily,
indeed as a consciousness, but then straightway also as a
feeling of love as toward the congenial, the right, and as a
willingness arising from this consciousness and this love.
The cognizing activity of the conscience relates primarily
and directly only to the God-pleasing, and not also to the God-
repugnant ; for the former is real, but not the latter, and all
true and real cognition relates to something real. Hence the
second phase of conscience, that where men's "eyes are
opened" and they "know the good and the evil," does not
belong to the primative and pure conscience, but is a mani
festation of the conscience as already in antagonism to the
moral actuality of man. As primarily relating to the God
like, and hence as attended by a feeling of approbation, the
conscience has originally nothing to do with fear of punish
ment, but is on the contrary an expression of peace with God;
fear presupposes already a disturbed harmony and a knowl
edge of good and evil ; hence in the Scriptures we find con
science expressly distinguished from fear. [Rom. xiii, 5.]
According to Rothe, conscience is the divine activity in its
passive forth, that is, it is the soul's self-activity as being de
termined by the body, or, in general, by material nature,
and, in the final instance, by the divine self-activity, or, in
general, by God himself, — that is, it is instinctive impulse as
religious. In Ids opinion conscience lies not on the side of
the self-consciousness, but on that of the self-activity, and
relates not to conceptions and to the understanding, but to
volitions and to actions. Conscience has essentially an indi
vidual character, — is of subjective, not of objective, nature;
hence it is not correct to speak of a tribunal of conscience.
"The conscience of another has not the least binding force
for me, but only my own ; when an appeal is made to con-
§ 78.] PUEE ETHICS. 105
science, there all further discussion is cut off, there all object
ive arguments become powerless ; whatever is a matter of
conscience to me is to me a sanctum sanctorum which none
dare violate " — not even for objective reasons ; nor does my
conscience bind any one else. Conscience is essentially a
religious instinct-impulse ; and as being an activity of God in
man under the form of an instinctive impulse, and hence also
a sensuously perceptible one, it is attended by sensuously-
somatic phases of feeling. Now every instinct-impulse is
either positive or negative, hence conscience is either appro-
bative or disapprobative ; as disapprobative it is religious
aversion, — an instinctive impulse toward the counterworking
of the sin (hence stings of conscience) ; as approbative it is the
religious appetite. Rothe takes occasion here to complain
seriously of the hitherto prevalent confusion of phraseology
on this subject, — namely, in view of the fact that conscience
is treated of, sometimes as a propension, sometimes as a moral
feeling, sometimes as a religious feeling, sometimes as such
and such an instinct-impulse, or as such and such a sense ; in
this, however, he is manifestly unjustifiable ; it is to no good
purpose to quarrel with language which is, in fact, often
profounder and truer than the boldest theoretical systems.
No one has a right arbitrarily to define ideas contrarily to the
general consciousness, and then to find fault with language
because it does not harmonize with the definitions. In the
present case we find language perfectly justifiable in making
so wide a use of the term conscience, inasmuch as all the
above phases are in fact embraced in it, though indeed not in
equal degrees. The strange notion that conscience rests on a
determination of the personal soul by the material body, so
that by implication a rational spirit without a material body
would not have any conscience, we pass over in silence, and
make only the following observations. Should we admit
that conscience relates to volition and action, it does not
follow from, this that it is not per se, and primarily, a con
sciousness ; thought in fact may influence volition ; and the
necessary presupposition of every volition is a thought ; but
an unconscious instinct-impulse is neither religious nor moral,
but irrational. The fact is, conscience lies most strictly on
the side of the self-consciousness; otherwise an evil con-
106 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 78.
science could not contain a self-accusation. That the con
science is of sulrjective nature is only in so far correct as it
constitutes an integral element of rational personality ; but it
is entirely incorrect in Rothe to reduce it to a mere individ
ually-subjective phenomenon, and entirely to deprive it of
objective character. If conscience is to be at all of a rational
character, it must have a general, and hence also an objective
significancy. That which is merely subjective lias not the
least moral significancy, rather is it the opposite of the
moral ; what is holy for me must be also holy per se and
before God, and what is holy before God must be holy for all
moral creatures. My conscience is true only in so far as it is
an expression of the moral idea; but the moral idea is not of
a merely subjective nature. For every Christian, it is a
matter of Conscience to follow Christ; this holds good in
general as well as in particular, and not simply for me as such
and such a particular person. The more the conscience bears
a merely subjective character, the more detective it is; in a
normal condition of humanity all moral consciences would
necessarily be essentially concordant, inasmuch as there is
only one God and only one divine will, and inasmuch as con
science is the expression of this will. Rothe comes himself
into violent contradiction with his assertions, in that he makes
conscience to be determined by a divine activity ; for this
divine activity must be objective to the subject ; and, as of a
holy character, it certainly does not determine each individual
to a different decision: and a little farther on Rothe himself
takes this position: that the conscience as an activity of God
in man, has a direct and unconditional authority, and from
which man cannot in any manner escape ; that arguments
avail nothing as against conscience, — that perfectly convinc
ing arguments may be urged and yet the conscience remain
unmoved ; that consequently conscience is also infallible, that
it never deceives and is incapable of being bribed ; and that
though we may blind ourselves as to its decision, yet it is
itself not to be deceived. These positions, so utterly ex
treme and so contrary to all experience, are manifestly
irreconcilable with his previous position, namely, that con
science, being entirely devoid of objective character, is a
mere subjective phenomenon ; for in the notion of an authority
§ 79.] PURE ETHICS. ' 107
in conscience, and especially of an unconditional one, it is
manifestly implied that the subject is subordinate thereto.* —
According to Schenkel (Dogmatik, 1858, I, 135 sqq.) the con
science is a special faculty of the human soul, or rather that
one of its organs which has to do with religious functions,
whereas the reason and the will do not relate directly to God
biit to the world; this conscience, in which the God-con
sciousness is primarily and immediately given, is at the same
time also the ethical central-organ. What is to be gained by
this freak of fancy it is difficult to determine. When men
thus arbitrarily, and contrary to prevalent usage, limit the
notion of the reason and the will, it is of course an easy
matter to discover new faculties of the soul and new organs
of the same; but whether anything important is gained there
by, and whether the supposed epoch-making ne^f discovery
will meet with much favor, we may seriously doubt. — Tren-
delenburg shows much more circumspection and acumen in
considering conscience as the reaction and pro-action of the
total God-centered man against the man as partial, especially
against the self-seeking part of himself (Naturrecht, 1860, § 39).
II.— THE ESSENCE OF THE MOEAL LAW AS THE
DIVINE WILL.
SECTION LXXIX.
The essence of the moral law as the divine will
cannot be deduced from the nature of man alone, but
essentially only from the idea of God as ruling right
eously in his creation. — (a) As morality rests on
freedom, and as freedom consists in the fact that a
man chooses, by a personal independent volition, a
* Kothe appears to have become dissatisfied with this exposition of
the conscience. In his revised edition (Theol. Ethik, 2 Auf., 1867,
§ 177, Anm. 3) he carries his dissatisfaction with the term conscience
so far as entirely to exclude it from his work. He declares the word as
"scientifically inadmissible," inasmuch as it is devoid of " accurately
determined logical contents ; " — it is but a popular expression for the
collective moral nature of man. — TRANSLATOR.
108 , CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 79
particular mode of action among; several possible
ones, hence every moral action is at the same time
the leaving undone of a possible contrary action.
The moral law is therefore per «6 -always twofold; it
is command and prohibition at the same time, and
consequently there is in fact no essential difference
whether the law appears in the one or in the other
form; and as the moral life of man is a continuous
one, hence he must at every moment of time be ful
filling a divine law ; a mere non-doing would be a
negation of the moral. It is in consequence of the
freedom of choice, and not in consequence of sin-
fulness, that the divine law bears the form of a
" should."
Every presentation of the moral law from the stand-point of
man alone, that is, purely from the nature of man, without
deriving it from God, is anti-religious, and can never include
the whole truth of the moral idea. And in precise proportion
as we conceive more highly of the moral nature of man from that
stand-point, we render unavoidable his Pantheistic exaltation
into the highest realization of God himself — the putting of
man in the place of the personal God. We cannot possibly
understand the moral law save as the divine purpose in regard
to free creatures, and we can base it on the nature of man
only in so far as we recognize in and through this nature the
divine creative will, the fulfillment of which lies in the real
ized moral perfection of man.
The fact that any particular action is morally good, neces
sarily implies as possible a contrary, or non-good one ; and
the commanding of the fonner is per se a prohibiting of the
latter; every command directly implies the prohibition of the
contrary form of action. Now it might seem as if the con
verse did not hold good, namely, that a prohibition does not
imply at the same time also a command; the laws: thou shalt
not kill, thou shalt not commit adultery, seems to require
simply a non-doing. This, however, would be possible
only on condition that a mere non-doing were in general a
§ 79.] PURE ETHICS. 109
moral possibility. But as life is strictly continuous in all of
its stages, and as even a momentary real cessation of life is
death, hence least of all can the highest form of life, the moral
life, be a non-living, a simple non-doing, without thereby turn
ing into the contrary, namely, into spiritual and moral death.
As the human spirit, even in the deepest sleep as conditioned
by the weariness of the body, is never idle, but keeps up an
activity in remembered or unremembered dreaming, so also
the highest form of spirit life, the moral life, is never inter
rupted by a pure inactivity. Hence a prohibition that should
include in itself no contents of a positive character, no com
mand, could not be of a moral nature. The moral non-doing
of a morally prohibited action is in and of itself necessarily
the doing of the contrary. Hence, Luther, in his elucidation
of the Commandments, is strictly right in never leaving them
in the form of a simple "thou shalt not," but in uniformly
deducing from them a very positive "thou shalt." The law:
"thou shalt not kill," though in form a simple prohibition,
nevertheless directly implies the enjoining of all that man, in
his intercourse with others, ought to do as contrasting with
the disposition that leads to murder ; we should not only not
kill our neighbor, but we should help and succor him in all
his bodily perils ; — a mere non-doing in the face of such
perils would be a direct violation of the law. If man is not
to commit adultery, then must he, in the conjugal relation,
not only not do any thing that stimulates and nurtures an
adulterous disposition, but he must do the contrary thereof;
that is, he must live purely and chastely in words and acts,
and love and honor his own consort.
Nevertheless it is not indifferent as to which of the two
forms the moral law .assumes ; the difference, however, lies
not in the essence, but in the practical educative adaptation.
As the essence, the end, of the moral life is not negative but
has positive contents, the true and perfect form of the law is
in fact that of the express command; "thou shalt" is higher
than "thou shalt not." But for man while as yet undevel
oped to moral maturity, the form of prohibition is the more
obvious and simple, since, on the one hand, it brings his
moral liberty of choice more clearly to his consciousness, and,
with the exclusion of the immoral, opens to him the whole
110 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 79.
field of the discretionary, and since, on the other, it estab
lishes protecting limits for the field within which he is to
train himself up to moral maturity, to a consciousness of the
good. With the child, education always begins in the pro
hibiting of what conflicts with its well-being; God's first law
to man was a free throwing-open of the field of the discre
tionary in connection with a limiting prohibition [Gen. ii, 16,
17], whereas the real command appears primarily only in the
general form of a Messing, as expressive of the goal of moral
effort, the good [Gen. i, 28]. While the Mosaic Command
ments bear predominately the character of prohibition, Christ
sums up the moral contents of the divine law in the form of
a positive command: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself;" and at the
same time Christ declares that this command embraces the
whole ancient law. Hence, while the essence of the divine
law continues ever the same, the revelation of it gradually
advances from the predominantly prohibitory form to that of
the positive command.
As both forms of the divine law present a duty to the free
will of man, they both bear the expression of a command, a
" should." This is the form assumed by nearly all laws, from
the first one given to Adam to the perfect laws of Christ.
Since the time of Schleiermacher, however, many take offense
at this "should," and strive to banish it, at least, from the
pure moral law. In Schleiermacher's Philosophical Ethics,
this rejection of the "should" is entirely consequential; for
here the moral is quite as necessarily-determined a phe
nomenon of the universe as is the natural, and for freedom
of will there is no place whatever; consequently ethics has
no other task than simply to describe that which takes place
from necessity, but not to present laws under the form of re
quirements, of duty. Rothe follows this .view only up to a
certain point; he rejects the form of the "should" only for
sinless man, as indeed also one cannot apply the idea of
"should" to God; only for sinful man can the moral appear
as a duty (Eth. I, Anf., § 817). As relating to God this is
doubtless correct, inasmuch as God's freedom is not human
liberty of choice, and as it absolutely excludes the possibility
of sinning, and since God is absolutely his own law. But as
§79.] PURE ETHICS. Ill
relating to free creatures, even though they be as yet perfectly
sinless, it is erroneous, — at least unless we are to regard the
moral perfection of the same as a cessation of all freedom of
choice and likewise of all moral duty. As long as man does
not cease to propose to himself moral ends, and freely to aim
to reach them, so long will duty as yet continue. This form
of the law would be unsuitable for perfect man only wlien
it should be conceived of as something uncongenial to man,
as some sort of oppressive yoke, which, however, is by no
means the case. The as yet unrealized state of a freely-to-be-
attained goal always implies a "should." It is only from
some such misconception as if the ' ' should " implied some
thing foreign and burdensome to man, that we can explain
why even Harless limits the application of this word to the
fallen state (Christl.Eih'ik, 6 Auf., p. 80 sqq.). There is, how
ever, no shadow of censure in the form "thou shouldst; " in
fact, there is for the free will no other form of law conceiv
able than that of the "should." Without a distinguishing
of the divine will from that of the subject, no real conscious
morality is possible ; and simply this distinguishing and
nothing more — not an antagonism of estrangement — is con
tained in the idea of the "should." It is in this idea in fact
that morality and piety find their unity, the moral being con
ceived as the divine will [Deut. x, 12; Micah vi, 8]. The
child that does the good for the reason that it knows that it
is the will of its parents that it should do so, stands morally
higher than the one that does it without a consciousness of
its duty; the former, but not the latter, is able to offer resist
ance to temptation; for temptation is overcome only by the
thought of the divine will, or of duty. A command does not
presuppose a contrary inclination, but only the possibility of
sin, that is, it presupposes freedom of will. In denying to
man while as yet in a sinless state all consciousness of the
divine law, and supposing him to act simply from a direct
impulse of love, we not only contradict the express declara
tion of the Scriptures as to a revelation of the divine will
to primitive man, but we also render the fall into sin an
impossibility.
112 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 80.
SECTION LXXX.
(5) Whatever is morally good is God's will, and is
hence also moral law; and this law has, as God's
will, an unconditional claim,— presents itself always
as a requirement from which there is no escape, and
cannot possibly be construed into a mere counsel the
non fulfillment of which would not be a sin, and the
voluntary fulfillment of which would constitute a
supererogatory merit. The moral goal of every human
being is moral perfection, and all that conducts
thereto is for every such being an absolute duty, that
is, it is God's will and law concerning him. JSTo one
can do more good than is required of him ; for the
human will cannot be better than the divine, and
God's law is not less good than God's will. That
which in the Scriptures has the appearance of real
moral counsel is simply a conditional law, the fulfill
ment of which becomes a duty to the individual onl}7
under certain, not universally-existing, circumstances;
but wherever it does become a duty, there it is so
absolutely, and hence its non-fulfillment is a violation
of duty ; and wherever it does not become a duty
there its fulfillment has no merit.
Here, for the first time, we meet an antagonism of moral
views between the different Christian churches; and it is a
far-reaching one ; and from this point on, in our attempt to
construct a system of Christian ethics, and not simply of the
ethical views of this or that church, we must seek for the
essence of Christianity, not merely in those generalities which
are common to all particular churches, but, wherever two
views are in irreconcilable antagonism, we must necessarily
decide for that one which is of a really Christian character,
and cannot regard both as equally legitimate. And although
the question in this connection is nearly always, as to coun-
§80.] PURE ETHICS. 113
sels to redeemed Christiana, still it properly belongs in this
place, since in fact unfallen man would be, even much more
than the redeemed, in a condition to obtain a higher merit
than is strictly required.
On a superficial examination it might seem that by the
dogma as to the evangelical counsels (consilia as distinguished
from praecepta) the moral requirements were advanced higher
than the generally-sufficient degrees of morality; the fact is,
however, the very opposite. The notion that there is some good
which is not also a duty, can only be obtained by lowering
the moral requirement from that of the highest possible
moral perfection to an inferior requirement ; and a supereroga
tory merit becomes possible only where the idea of the good
embraces more than the moral requirement. The Protestant
church, however, holds fast ,the view that all real good is
absolutely a duty, and hence that man is obligated to do all the
good within his power, — that he should unconditionally strive
for the highest possible perfection. The Protestant view as
to the moral requirement stands therefore higher than the
opposing view. The Protestant church rejects the notion
of moral counsels, and of the meritoriousuess of their fulfill
ment, for the reason that it regards their contents as not
absolutely good, as not per se moral, but as only good under cer
tain not universally-existing circumstances, but as absolutely
commanded when those circumstances do exist. That which
is good in a particular conjuncture is, when that case arises,
an absolute duty, and not a mere discretionary and non-obli
gating counsel. The saying of Christ [Luke xvii, 10] : "When
ye shall have done all those things which are commanded
you, say: we are unprofitable servants," — which is not designed
to disparage the worth of true morality, but simply to lead
man to humility by reminding him of his sinful state, and
of his redemption by grace alone, — is, however, applied by
the theologians of the Romish church to the doctrine of the
evangelical counsels, in that they say that man should in fact
not remain a mere unprofitable servant, but should be a child
of God, as indeed also Christ was not an unprofitable servant ;
and even some Protestant exegetes try to escape this inference
simply by referring the works here in question not to Chris
tian morality, but merely to the Mosaic law. We regard both
Vol. II— 9
CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§80.
the inference, and this mode of escaping it as inadmissible.
It is indeed true, man should not be simply an unprofitable
servant but a child of God ; but from this very fact it follows
that that which morally conditions this filial relation to God,
must also be a positive moral requirement and duty, and not
a mere counsel, which we may leave unfulfilled and yet not
fail in doing all that is actually required of us; man is in
fact absolutely bound to become a child of God. Now as a
limitation of these words of Christ to the Mosaic law is not
justified by the context, seeing that just previously (verses
5, 6) the question had been as to the power of faith, hence
their true scope is, we think, as follows: man, even though
redeemed but not yet free from sin, is unable by his dutiful
works to acquire merit before God in such a sense as that he
could claim of God the blessedness of the children of God
as a reward due, and which God would be required by his
justice to grant, but on the contrary he can regard this bless
edness only as a gracious gift conferred upon him in virtue of
his faitli in the compassionate love of God in Christ. To the
works owed, it is not other non-owed and hence supererogatory
works that are compared, but faith, which, though indeed
also a moral requirement, yet differs essentially from works
properly so called (comp. verse 19; "thy faith hath made
the whole"). Christ's utterance, therefore, teaches clearly
the very opposite of sanctification by works as prevailing in
the Romish church.
The Romish church finds further support for its supereroga
tory good works, — which consist essentially in intensified self-
denial, that is, in voluntary celibacy, poverty, obedience to man-
devised rules, solitary life, etc., — in those texts of the New
Testament which seem to present celibacy and voluntary pov
erty as-a higher morality not to be expected of all Christians.
To the rich young man, who, as he himself affirmed, had kept
all the commandments, Christ says [Matt, xix, 21]: "If them
wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the.
poor, and then thou shalt have treasure in heaven ; and come
and follow me." Now, it is argued, the moral law does not
in fact require of all men the giving up of their possessions,
and yet this young man had fulfilled all the commands which
Christ mentions to him; hence this giving-up was over and
§80.] PUEE ETHICS. 115
above these commands. This is a very unfortunate inference,
for surely a morality which does not lead to the perfection of
man, can hardly be pure and required by God ; and in the case
of this young man the giving-up of his riches was the condition
of his perfection, and hence, as we hold, an unconditional
requirement, in case he really desired to attain to the highest
good. The young man in declining the requirement failed,
as Christ says, to have part in the kingdom of heaven ; all
his presumed fulfillment of the law was insufficient. Now
this is in plain antagonism to the Romish doctrine, according
to which the fulfillment of the law, even without obedience
to the counsels, is amply sufficient to a participation in the
kingdom of heaven, whereas the supererogatory works simply
serve to a more speedy attainment thereof, or to a higher de
gree of blessedness. Hence those who refuse to admit that
certain particular actions become a duty only under particu
lar and not universally-existing relations, but that when these
do exist, then they become in fact a positive requirement,
would have no other alternative left, than to regard the
requirement made of the rich young man as a general duty
for all Christians. "We can distinguish universally- valid
commands from conditional ones, not, however, moral com
mands from mere counsels. Also the conditional commands
are, when the particular conjuncture arrives, of absolute ob
ligation, and not to fulfill them is disobedience to God's com
mand ; whereas, in the Romish view, the non-fulfillment of
the counsels does not incur the least moral blame. — When
Paul says of himself [1 Cor. ix, 12-18] that he has denied
himself many things to which he had a right, that he has
labored without charge, etc., the Romanists here find a super
erogatory work to which the Apostle was not obligated. Paul,
however, declares expressly that he so acted in order "not to
abuse his power [liberty] in the Gospel." Now if the taking
advantage of his discretionary power, under these particular
circumstances, would have been a misuse of his liberty, then
the course of action adopted by the apostle was evidently
simply his duty, and by no means a supererogatory work. — But
the greatest emphasis is placed on the utterances of Christ
and of St. Paul as to abstaining from marriage : " All cannot re
ceive this saying, but they to whom it is given " [Matt, xix, 11],
116 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. f§ 80.
Now, that those who do not receive the saying can be
believing Christians who attain to . the kingdom of God,
although not to that higher stage of salvation which is con
ditioned on supererogatory works as Romanists understand it,
is not only not said, but, to the contrary, it is said that the
self-chastening in question is done ' ' for the kingdom of
heaven's sake," and hence plainly in the sense that the same
is a condition of attaining to the kingdom of heaven. But
the opera super erogationis of which one is found here, are not
regarded as a condition to participation in the kingdom of
heaven. Wh<en Paul [1 Cor. vii] commends to Christians to
abstain from marriage, this is certainly not offered as a univer
sally-applying command, but manifestly as a mere counsel
(comp. Averse 12), not, however, in such a sense as that indi
viduals may disregard it at perfect pleasure and without
moral detriment. On the contrary, the apostle expressly gives
the ground of his" ad vice: "I suppose that this is good («aAw)
for the present distress ; " " such (as marry) shall have trouble
in the flesh; but I spare you." From this it follows that
where such a "present distress " does not exist, or where there
is full moral power and readiness to endure the worldly trials,
there the advisableness of celibacy no longer applies. In
general the principle is valid: "If thou marry thou hast not
sinned " (verse 28) ; but in every definite case the duty becomes
definite also. Where there is such a pressure of "distress,"
and where higher duties are to be fulfilled, and there is not
sufficient power to bear the worldly trials without danger to
faithfulness, there to marry is not only not a mere non-sinning,
and abstaining from marriage a good counsel, but the former
is a positive sin, and the latter a duty. And wherever any
one, in view of these particular circumstances does remain
unmarried, he does not thereby acquire a higher, a supereroga
tory desert, but he simply fulfills his duty. Such a supereroga
tory desert is moreover directly excluded by the fact that the
apostle proposed by freedom from marriage to preserve the
Christians, in that time of distress, from temporal "trouble;"
now he who renounces an otherwise legitimate privilege in
order to be spared from worldly trouble, cannot possible lay
claim to a special higher desert and to a special recompense
for the same. In fact, we can readily conceive of cases to the
§ 80.] PURE ETHICS. 117
contrary, where the greater desert would consist precisely
in the assumption of these trials by marrying, and where
therefore to marry would be a duty.
According to the Romish doctrine there is a difference be
tween God's holy will and his moral law ; the former has not
an unconditional validity, but is, in relation to man in the
sphere of higher moral perfection, simply a wish the fulfill
ment of which would indeed be pleasing to God, but with
the non-fulfillment of which He will nevertheless be satisfied.
Bellarmin says, apropos to Matt, xxii, 36: "He who loves
God with his whole heart, is not bound to do all that God
counsels, but only what He commands," — an assertion that
must appear to an evangelical conscience as a reversal of the
moral consciousness. Hirscher, in his earlier writings, de
fended this doctrine thus: "Love is a command given to all
without exception, whereas a specific degree of love is not
commanded ; rather is love, when once really existing, left to
its own nature ; it jn fact presses forward of its own prompt
ing, and it is inconsistent with its inner nature that the rude
hand of a command should impose upon it that which it will
always freely bring forth from its own heart ; hence love is in
general an absolute duty, not, however, a specific higher degree
of love ; the absence of the higher degree does not involve
also an absence of righteousness in general, but only a certain
higher range of the moral affections; so was it with the rich
young man in the Gospel." Now, all this is manifest soph
istry. • It is true the degree of love cannot, for every particu
lar case, be stated in a particular legal formula, still, however,
this degree is an absolute duty ; it simply depends on the
spiritual and moral culture of the individual, but is in no
case left to individual caprice. Whoever loves God or Christ,
or father, mother, or consort less than his moral culture en
ables him to do, simply commits sin ; and he who loves with
all the capacity of his soul does not do any thing supereroga
tory, but simply his bounden duty ; and it is nearer the truth
to say that all will have to accuse themselves of loving too
little, than that any single soul may boast of loving God more
than with the " whole heart and soul and strength." (In the
fifth edition of his Moral, II, p. 328 sqq. , Hirscher so tones
down the above teaching that only a mere shadow of it remains. )
118 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§81.
The Romish doctrine, in making perfection dependent on the
fulfillment of the counsels, implies thereby that God's will,
as expressed in the moral law, is not that man should be per
fect, but it is on the contrary rather an individual courage
transcending the mere will of God, that leads him out beyond
the moral goal set for him by God himself.*
SECTION LXXXI.
(<?) While, on the one hand, there is no form of
action which could be to the subject, in any given
moment, morally indifferent, that is. neither in har
mony nor in disharmony with the divine will, neither
good nor evil, still, on the other hand, no detinitely-
frarned form of law embraces within itself the total
contents of the moral life-sphere; for as every law
has only contents of a general character, while* the
moral activity itself is always of an individual char
acter, so that the moral actions of different men that
fall under the same moral law offer a great diversity,
hence the moral law does not sustain to the actions
that answer to it precisely the same relation as an
idea to its direct realization and manifestation ; the
particular moral action is not the simple, pure
expression and copy -of the moral law itself, "but it
always contains something whicli does not arise from
the law, but from the individual peculiarity. The
law as appropriated by the person is fulfilled only in
such a manner as expresses also the peculiarity of the
person. Every moral action contains therefore two
elements : a general ideal one, the moral law, and a
particular and more real one, the personal element, —
* See, for the Komish view, Thorn, Aqu., Su?n/na, II, I, qu. 108, 4 ;
.Bellarmini, De Oontrov. Fid. II. 2, De Monachis, c. 7 &qq. — For the op
posite view: Joh. Gerhard, Loci Tk., Loo. 17 (De Evany.) o. 15; M.
ChemnitiuS) Loci, De Diser. Piaecept. et Cons.
§ 81.] PURE ETHICS. 119
which latter, as the expression of the personally
peculiar character, has also its perfect legitimacy.
God's moral will is not that men should be mere im
personal, absolutely similar expressions of the moral
law, but that the latter should come to its realization
only as appropriated by the particular personality.
This personally- peculiar element that inheres in every
actual moral action cannot be embraced in any gen
eral legal formula, inasmuch as in its nature it is in
fact not general, but a pure expression of individual
personality. Every real moral activity is therefore
the product of a twofold freedom : of that which sub
ordinates the individual personality to the law, and of
that which does not merge the personality into a mere
abstract idea, but preserves it in its legitimate peculiar
ity, and which is to a certain extent a law unto itself.
By this notion of the right of personality Christian Ethics
differs from all non-Christian systems, not excepting those of
the Greeks, notwithstanding that the latter lay such great
stress on the freedom of the person ; and this feature is of
wide-reaching significance. The decided rejection of the
notion that there may be morally-indifferent actions and condi-
tions,^ind the emphasizing the rights of personal individual
ity, are very essential to a true understanding of the moral.
By insisting disproportionately on the former, we leave too
little room, for the peculiarity of the moral personality, and
make it necessary that for every particular action there should
be also a special law ; this leads inevitably to a legal bondage
hostile alike to all vital individuality, and to the essence of
personal freedom. This is the stand-point of Chinese and of
Talmudic ethics, and to a certain extent, of the casuistics of
some Romish moralists. On the other hand, if we insist too
exclusively on the peculiarity of the person, we incur the
danger of trespassing on the unconditional validity of the
law, to the profit of the fortuitous caprice of the subject, —
somewhat as recently in the period of the sp-called "gen-
120 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 81.
iuses " and of the genius-less freethinkers who followed them,
all morality was made to consist in the uncurbed develop
ment of the fortuitous peculiarity of the individual, to which
peculiarity every thing was freely allowed provided only that
it was "genial." The only true course is, in harmony with
the general Christian consciousness, to hold fast to both of
these elements.
At each and every particular point of time, the moral activity
and the moral state are either good or evil, either in harmony
with the moral idea or not so. Although in the same action
there may be different phases which have morally different
characters, and which place good and evil in close proximity,
still these contrary elements never coalesce into a moral
neutrum, into a morally-indefinite fluctuating between good and
evil — a moral indifference. An individual may" indeed be
morally undecided, neither cold nor warm; this indecision,
however, is not of a morally-indifferent character, but is itself
evil. There may be different degrees of good or evil, but not
an action that is neither good nor evil. This will become
self-evident if we fix our mind on the fundamental idea of
good and evil as that which answers to, or does not answer
to, the divine will ; between these two a third is absolutely
inconceivable, just as in mathematics there is no medium be
tween a correct and a false result, or in a clearly presented
legal case no medium between yes and no. The bride who
cannot answer "yes" to the question as to- her willingness to
the marriage, says thereby, in fact, "no;" and whoev<^% does
not at any given moment say "yes" to God's never neutral
will, simply rejects it. The essentially self-contradictory as
sumption of a morally-indifferent middle-sphere between good
and evil, is in itself anti-moral ; and every immoral person is
only too ready to transfer all his immorality, in so far as he
cannot explain it into good, into this pretended sphere of the
morally indifferent.
And yet this so widely prevalent tendency to assume that
there is a morally-indifferent sphere of action, is based on an
actual, though falsely interpreted, presentiment of the true
relations in the case. The fact is, every feature in correct
moral action is not directly and specifically determined by the
moral law, but a very essential phase of such action, has an-
§ 81.] PURE ETHICS. 121
other source than the general law ; nor is the truly moral man
simply a mere expression of the moral law, but, as differing
from other equally moral men, he is entitled as a person to
have and retain his special peculiarity. This phase of the
moral life appears at once, and very clearly, in that which
lies at the basis of all moral society — wedlock-love. Love,
and, more specifically, conjugal love, is a moral command ;
but the fact that this love fixes itself exclusively and continu
ously upon precisely this particular person, is a personally-
peculiar shaping of the moral law ; no law can prescribe what
particular person shall be the object of my conjugal love ; and
the personal element is here so manifestly legitimate that the
eliminating of it — the indulging in love, not to a particular
personally-chosen person, but to the other sex in general — re
sults in "free" love, the very quintessence of immorality and
vulgarity. Wherever moral theories ignore the rights of per
sonality, there the tendency is very strong to base marriage,
not on personal choice, but on the choice of the State, as in
ancient Peru. Now, what is true of conjugal love is true
also, though not always in such striking consequences, of all
moral activity. When two equally moral persons do the same
thing, fulfill the same law, it is, after all, not the same action ;
nor indeed should it be ; what is right and good in one person
may, in that particular form, be even wrong in another, not
withstanding that the moral law is the same for all. Paul em
ploys his moral activity in a different manner from that of
Peter jnd James ; in fact, in the living communion of Chris
tians there is presented not only a great diversity of spiritual
"gifts," but also of personally-moral idiosyncrasies; even in
the purely spiritual sphere there are manifold gifts, but only
one Lord. The normal difference of moral life-tendency as
seen in the sous of Adam, and which must have occasioned
as great a difference in the fulfilling of the moral commands
as it did in the manner of offering worship, presents a type
of the manifold moral diversities into which the moral law is
shaped by peculiarities of personality.
The visualization of the personal element is not to be un
derstood as a something conflicting witli the divine law ; on
the contrary, it is in fact the divine will that the peculiarity
of the personality be preserved. If, at first thought, it should
122 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 82.
seem questionable to place along-side of the universally-valid
law another essentially variable element, lest thereby the un
conditional validity of the law be infringed upon and nega
tived, let it be observed, in the first place, that the personal
peculiarity finds in the moral law both its limits and its moral
criterion, so that consequently it can never come into antago
nism with the same, but that, nevertheless, there is, within the
scope of the personal spiritual life, a field into which the law,
because of its general character, does not dictatingly enter.
So long as the moral consciousness is not yet truly mature,
there is, indeed, in the personal element of the moral, a peril
for the moral life, inasmuch as the law cannot give specific
directions for every special case. Hence in the Old Testament
God complemented his earlier legislation by special revelations
of his will through priestly and prophetic inspiration ; now,
however, since the Spirit of God is poured out upon all men,
there is no longer any need of this extraordinary revelation
of the divine will in individual cases, for now the human per
sonality, having come into possession of the truth, has also
become "free indeed," — is so imbued with the divine law
that, in loving and acting as prompted by its divinely purified
heart, it fulfills the divine law in the very fact of developing
its personality; and, in fulfilling the law, it preserves also at
the same time its personal peculiarity, — as, for example, in a
happy marriage there is no longer any antagonism between
the fulfilling of the will of the one party by the other, and
the acting-out by each of his own personal peculiarity, but,
on the contrary, in each of the two elements the other is al
ready implied. And the moral unripeness of individual per
sons, that necessarily still exists even in a normal condition of
humanity, is complemented to full moral safety by the spirit
of the moral community, — as in fact this thought is vitally
embodied in every true Christian church-communion.
. SECTION LXXXII.
The sphere of the personally-peculiar element is
that of the discretionary or the allowed. That par-
tieular action which is neither commanded nor for
bidden in general by any moral law is an allowed
§82.] PURE ETHICS. 123
action ; this circumstance does not, however, by any
means make it of a morally-indifferent character ; on
the contrary, the morally-allowed belongs per se to
the morally-gwe? in so far as the development of per
sonal individuality is per se legitimate and good.
The idea of the allowed relates therefore less to the
moral activity per se and in general, than rather to
the peculiar manner in which an end that is per se
good, that is, correspondent to the moral law, is
realized in particular, by virtue of the personal pecul
iarity of the actor ; and the same moral law may be
fulfilled in many ways, the moral quality of which,
however, is conditioned in each particular case by the
said peculiarity. There is nothing that is allowed
under all circumstances ; and all that is allowed, and
all so-called indifferents (adiaphord) are in each par
ticular case either good or evil, but never morally
neutral, notwithstanding that such actions may be
per se, that is, generally considered, morally unde
termined, and neither commanded nor forbidden. The
moral quality lies not so much in the action objec
tively considered, as in the disposition from which it
springs and by which it is attended. — The sphere of
the allowed is different for every stage of the moral
development and for each particular circle of life.
The farther the moral development of the person has
progressed, that is, the more the moral law has be
come identified with his personality, so much the
higher will also be the rights of his personal individu
ality, so much the higher the morally-personal free
dom, and consequently so much the wider also the
sphere of the allowed ; to the pure all things are pure.
Free movement within the sphere of the alloweckis
therefore essential to a truly moral life, and condi-
124 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 82.
tions the all-sided development thereof; this move
ment is per se good, and it is in itself a good, the
significance and compass of which increase with the
moral development of the subject. Herein lies the
contrast of the Christian freedom of the Gospel to
the bondage of the law.
This is one of the most important and, at the same time,
most difficult points in ethical science, and both for the same
reason, namely, from the necessity of giving play to personal
freedom, and of doing this without infringing on the uncon
ditionally-valid moral law ; and in exact proportion as a
system of ethics embraces the idea of personal freedom, will
it also be able to embrace the idea of the allowed. As in ex
press laws — commands and prohibitions — God manifests him
self as holy, so in the concession of the allowed he shows him
self as loving. As in the fulfilling of the command and in the
observing of the prohibition, man becomes conscious of his
moral freedom, so, within the sphere of the allowed, this
freedom becomes to him an enjoyment. Now, as freedom of
will is not a mere antecedent condition of all morality, but also
itself a moral good, and as every good is per se an enjoyment,
hence free-created beings have also a moral claim upon the
legitimate enjoyment of freedom, — not simply of freedom as
subject to definite commands, but also of freedom as entitled
to free choice in various directions, — that is, they have dis
cretionary power to free activity; this constitutes in fact
the divinely conceded sphere of the allowed, wherein mainly
the personally-peculiar element of the moral comes to
virtualization.
The very first moral direction, or rather blessing, that was
given to man, contains implicitly the notion of the allowed or
discretionary : ' ' Replenish the earth and subdue it and have
dominion over the fish of the sea," etc. This is really not so
much a command as a blessing, — it proposes a moral goal, a
good. But in this good that is to be sought after, namely,
dominion over nature, there is at the same time implied a
command to realize this supremacy of the rational spirit
through moral activity. But within this command there lies
also a discretionary field. The particular manner Tiotc man is
§^2.] PUKE ETHICS. 125
to realize this dominion, is not expressed in the command,
but is left to his free personal self-determination — in so far as
he does not thereby come into collision with other moral com
mands. Thus, man may use animals for his own purposes,
may domesticate them, train them, force them to help him.
and use them for his nourishment ; but as to what choice of
them he shall make, and as to what kind of service he shall
exact of them, this is left to his discretion, — here he may
act freely, here he has the full enjoyment of his freedom.
For unfallen man there was no need of narrower limits ; but
when depravity gained the upper hand these limits were
drawn closer, and the Mosaic lajv gives very specific and
narrower bounds within which man, as no longer morally
stable, was to exercise his freedom upon nature. — The first
definite command of God presents at once, along-side of the
expressed command, also the allowed: "Of every tree of the
garden thou mayest freely eat ; but of the tree of the knowl
edge of good and evil thou shalt not eat ; " whatever he may
choose of the other trees is per se good ; the choice he shall
make is not prescribed; simply a boundary is set, beyond
which begins evil. -Now, we cannot say that this choosing
within the given limits is of a morally- indifferent character ;
rather is such choice, as the realization of a good, itself
morally good; and this goodness consists in the simple fact
that every choice is good, and that the choice of the one is
not better and not worse than the choice of the other. To
infer from this that the single objects of the choice are
morally indifferent, would be to overlook the fact that the
moral element does not lie in the object, but in the choosing
person, and that the latter exercises his morality precisely in
the fact of freely choosing in accordance with the peculiarity
of his personality ; not to choose at all would be to despise the
divine gift, and hence immoral.
In the state of innocence the sphere of the allowed was,
notwithstanding the indispensable educative limitation,
wider than it was subsequently in the state of sin, not, how
ever, because men were then morally more contracted, but
because they were morally purer. In consequence of redemp
tion from the power of sin, the now sanctified personality
becomes also freer, and the sphere of the allowed is enlarged ;
126 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 82.
herein lies one of the most essential differences between Old
Testament and New Testament ethics. The moral itself re
ceives, in contrast to the specifically and particularizingly
prescribing ancient law, a more general form, and the whole
law and the prophets are summed up in one short command :
"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and
thy neighbor as thyself." The sanctified personality acts
within the limits of the law Avith more freedom ; the bound
aries of the allowed, as established for the state of sin, are
thrown more into the back-ground ; the laws as to the Sabbath
and as to meats and other similar prescriptions, are thrown into
a freer form by the personality as made free in Christ. In
stead of the limiting laws regulating the use of " meats," and
other material objects in general, and which were framed
with reference to the sinful impurity of man, Christ gives the
broad principle : ' ' Not that which goeth into the mouth cle-
fileth a man, but that which cometh out of the mouth, this
detileth a man" [Matt, xv, 11]; and Paul expresses this in a
still more general form: "Every creature of God is good, and
nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving "
[1 Tim. iv, 4] ; and elsewhere [Titus i, 15] he states the
thought in its highest exaltation: "Unto the pure all things
are pure ; " that is, the higher the morality rises, so much the
wider becomes also the sphere of the allowed, and hence of
freedom; and upon him who is morally perfect, who is in
wardly fully identified with the divine will, there is no longer
imposed any degree whatever of outwardly-legal limitation to
the employment of his freedom ; for whatever he can love,
that God loves also, and his sanctified personality cannot
choose any thing that would be offensive to God, — and such a
person is again invested with his original full right of do
minion over nature, with his full right of free choice ; and
whatever he does of free choice, that he does to the glory of
God [1 Cor. x, 31].
The words of Paul [1 Cor. vii, 28] may serve as a further
illustration of the notion of the allowed : ' ' If thou marry, thou
hast not sinned ; " whereas on this very occasion the apostle
dissuaded from marriage. The Christian lias a right to mar
riage ; whether, however, under circumstances that would
otherwise morally admit of it, he put into execution this
§82.J PURE ETHICS. 127
right, does not depend on any particular legal prescription,
but on his own untrammeled personal choice. Paul had dis
cretionary ' ' power to lead about a sister, a wife, as well as
other apostles " [1 Cor. ix, 5] ; but he did not do so ; all have
the "power to eat and to drink " [verse 4], but our choice is,
within particular limits, left free. Ananias was at liberty
to keep his field or not [Acts v, 4] ; what he did was of his
own election ; it was not a moral law, but solely his personal
choice that determined his conduct. [Comp. 1 Cor. vi, 12 ;
x, 23; Rom. xiv, 1 sqq. ; xv, 1 sqq. ; Matt, xii, 3, 4.]
The sphere of the allowed is the more special theater of
personal freedom, as distinguished from mere moral freedom.
In obedience to the commanding law I am indeed free, but this
freedom is nevertheless a controlled one ; it is true, I can will
and act otherwise than the law wills, but I dare not ; and if I
in fact do so, then I violate the law, then I am an enemy of
God; I have the liberty but not the right so to act. Com
manded duty has consequently, notwithstanding the liberty
on which it rests, always still a certain constraint in it ; and
though in the mere literal fulfillment of the law, man becomes
conscious of his freedom, yet he does not come to a proper
and full enjoyment thereof. If God's law actually entered,
prescribing and prohibiting, into all the details of individ
ual action, without, by some concessions, allowing play
ground for discretionary action, then, though man would in
deed have the privilege of freely obeying or disobeying at
each particular moment, nevertheless he would feel the law as
a burden upon him ; and Paul was very apt in expression
when he spoke of the preparatory law of the Old Covenant
as a chastening-master. For the simple reason that the es
sence of man is freedom or self-determination, it is natural
for him to aspire to become also fully conscious of this free
dom, — to put it into exercise in so far as consistent with his
moral obedience, — and hence he needs a free field wherein he
may act with real freedom, without having his actions in every
respect prescribed to him, without being strictly bound by
the law, — where, in a word, he may say: I may choose this,
but I do not need to choose it ; and whether I choose this or
that depends entirely on my personal self-determination, and
that too without detriment to my moral duty.
128 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 82.
The sphere of the allowed stands in the same relation to
that of the express law as pl<iy to earnest activity. Play
also is an element essential to the full development of youth
ful moral life. With the child, play is of high moral signifi-
cancy, as it is thereby that it learns to comprehend, to exer
cise, and to enjoy its full personal freedom. In learning and
working the child is also free ; but however good and zealous
of work it may be, it is nevertheless conscious at the same
time of being controlled by an objective law to which it must
adapt itself; the other and equally legitimate phase of its life,
that of personal freedom and self-determination, is revealed
to it in its purest form only in play ; and the child, even the
morally-good one, finds so great a delight in play, for the
simple reason that it thereby comes to the enjoyment of its
personal freedom ; and the essence of its enjoyment lies in the
simple fact that in its playful activity and feats it is free lord
of its own volitions and movements ; and those children be
come spiritually dull whose plays are strictly watched over by
tutorial intermeddling. Playing is freedom, however, only
in form, and is without definite contents ; hence it is essen
tially only a transition-occupation appropriate to the age of
childhood. The sphere of the allowed in general, is the
wider and positive-grown extension of that play. Here be
longs recreation after labor, as in contrast to the positive
fulfilling of the law ; recreation is per se morally good and its
essence consists in freedom ; that I select precisely this path
for a promenade, or busy myself thus or thus, is neither pre
scribed to me by any law, nor is that which I do not select
forbidden. It is entirely erroneous to say that man must be
totally swallowed up in his calling, that he has a definite duty
to fulfill at every moment; this would be a moral slavery.
The sphere of personal liberty has also its own good right,
and for the plain reason that man is not merely an obligated
member of the whole, but also a free individuality. Recrea
tion per se is therefore by no means of a morally indifferent
character, but the particular mode of its realization is discre
tionary, and the moral law is not, at this point, of a detailed
particularizing character, but it simply hovers protectingly
on the outskirts, and wards against abuses, — even as a prudent
educator simply exercises a protecting oversight over the
§ 82.] PURE ETHICS. 129
child's play, but does not prescribe the details. Man is indeed
moral at every moment of his existence, and should at each
moment be and act morally right, but every thing that he
does is nevertheless not a direct expression of some moral
formula, on the contrary there is a share therein that belongs,
and rightly too, to personal free choice, — just as, in regard to
his clothing, a sensible man, though in the main following
the prevalent mode, will nevertheless reserve the privilege of
deviating therefrom whenever it better suits his personal indi
viduality. — Even as a fish in the water, though indeed swim
ming according to the natural laws of gravitation and motion,
yet, within the scope of these laws, disports itself at pleas
ure, and exhibits precisely in this free motion the traits which
distinguish it from the unfree plant, so also does man, within
the limits and conditions of the moral law, comport himself
freely on the field of the allowed, and in so doing manifests
the characteristics of the free child of God as in contrast
to servitude under a chastening law.
Schleiermacher (WerJcelTL, 2, 418 sqq.) denies the admissi-
bility of the notion of actions that are merely allowed. We
have, in his opinion, no time for that which claims to be, not
duty, but simply allowed, not morally necessary, but only
morally possible ; every performance of such an action implies
a definite willingness to act otherwise than from moral mo
tives, — which is immoral ; the idea of the allowed belongs
not to ethics but to civil law. This we concede in so far as
Schleiermacher speaks of such actions as are held to be neither
in conformity nor in disconformity to duty, that is morally
indifferent, but this is by no means the true idea of the al
lowed. However, we do not admit the existence of such a
class of actions ; but in rnorally-gw^ actions there is a phase
which is not determined by the law itself, and which consti
tutes the allowed. — Eothe (Ethik, i Auf. § 819) finds the
idea of the allowed in the fact that particular forms of ac
tion cannot be referred with certainty to a particular legal
formula, so that consequently their moral worth cannot be
estimated thereby beyond a doubt. The reason of this may
lie in the incompleteness of the law; hence the allowed has a
larger scope in the minority-period and with children ; but as
the law becomes more definite and perfect, the sphere of the
VOL. 11—10
130 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§82.
allowed grows narrower ; the more fully man is as yet without
positive law, so much the more numerous are the actions that
are allowed to him ; but there arrives a turning-point in the
development where the relation again changes, and for the
reason that, then, the law begins to retire into the back
ground and to become progressively simpler, so that the
sphere of the allowed becomes again more extensive. With
this view of Rotlie we cannot coincide. According to it the
sphere of the allowed rests only on a lack of the law, and it
would be more properly termed the sphere of the morally
doubtful. Adam, however, to whom the allowed was at once
presented in connection with the commanded and the prohib
ited, could not possibly be in doubt as to what would be
moral for him; and the divine word placed before him with
perfect definiteness the sphere within which he was allowed
entire freedom of action. And it is utterly erroneous to say
that in childhood the sphere of the allowed is wider than in
maturer years. The fact that many a thing is allowed to the
.child which does not become it in later years, is not a proof
that it has a wider liberty, but only that at this period the
allowed lies in a different circle, and one that answers to the
childish understanding ; on the contrary, the fact undoubtedly
is, that to the child more things by far are not allowed which
are allowed to the man, than conversely ; and every wider
stage of development brings to the youth a consciousness of
an increased freedom of self-determination, although, on the
other hand, it is true that the more earnest demands that are
made by the growing positiveness of the life-work, exclude
much of the earlier childish liberty. But that there comes
again afterward a turning-point when a contrary relation
begins, cannot be substantiated, and moreover it conflicts
directly with the idea .of a constantly progressive develop
ment toward moral maturity. — With a similar tendency, Stahl
(Iiechts-philos. II, 1, 112) transfers the allowed beyond the
sphere of the ethical proper, as being in its fulfillment morally
indifferent, and into the sphere of satisfaction, that is, of
earthly enjoyment; hence he infers consistently enough, that
the sphere of the merely allowed must constantly decrease as
morality advances, and that satisfaction is ultimately to be
sought only in that which is at the same time a fulfilling of
§82.] PUEE ETHICS. 131
the moral law, — as, for example, in the exercise of benevo
lence, etc. Christian Friedrich Schmid arrives at the same
conclusion (Sittenl., p. 450 sqq.). According to this view the
sphere of the allowed would amount in Tact but to a sphere
of the non-allowed, and would be simply a temporary con
cession to moral immaturity and weakness. This seems to us
incorrect. For a truly rational man, there can be no other
satisfaction than a moral one ; whatever he does and receives,
he does and receives in faith and love and with thanksgiving,
and in virtue of this thankfulness every truly allowable enjoy
ment becomes invested with a moral character. Stahl appeals
to the fact that, with the progress of moral development,
many a thing that is otherwise allowed must be renounced ;
but this is only in appearance a greater limitation; for though
it is true that mature man' no longer allows himself many of
the pleasures of his unripe youth, yet he has in their stead
other and wider fields of ^the allowed which are denied to
youth. The greater freedom of the Christian as compared
with the law-observer of the Old Testament, is perfectly evi
dent. It is true, many things were allowed to the Jew, which,
because of the higher morality introduced, are no longer al
lowed to the -Christian, such as the putting away of wives,
and retaliation [Matt, v, Slsqq.], so that it might seem as if
the sphere of the allowed, and hence of personal freedo'm,
were really more narrowly limited in Christianity than in
Judaism. However, when we reflect upon the above-cited
declarations of Paul*as to the contrast of Christian freedom
to the yoke of the law, the matter will doubtless appear in
reality very differently. Many things were not indeed morally
allowed to the Jews, but only tolerated in them, because of
their hardness of heart; the whole significancy of the moral
law was not yet exacted of them, just as in children many a
thing is tolerated and overlooked because of their more lim
ited moral knowledge, which in riper persons would be
regarded as improper and blameworthy, without implying,
however, that that which is tolerated is actually admitted as
allowable. The fact is, that as the moral consciousness grows
in clearness, the compass of duties grows wider also, so that
many a thing that was not previously a moral requirement now
becomes really such. This does not, however, render the
132 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 82.
sphere of the allowed narrower, but in fact wider, inasmuch
as every duty admits also of a variety of ways of fulfillment,
and consequently also a diversity of ways of virtualizing
our personal peculiarities. Thus, the fact that consorts may
no longer discard each other, though at first sight a seeming
limitation of the sphere of the allowed, yet really greatly
exalts the moral personality of both parties ; they have by far
a higher right in each other, — may require more of each
other, may more strongly emphasize the right of their moral
personality, may each allow to the other, and to himself to
ward the other, more than would be proper were marriage
merely an easily-dissolved contract, — even as the son of the
house is freer and may allow himself more liberty than the
servant, and for the simple reason that the former is more
indissolubly united with the house than the latter; — the
closer and firmer the bond, so much the greater mutual
trust and confidence, so much wider also the sphere of the
allowed.
Writers often admit two different species of the allowed :
the one is allowed because of the meagerness of the moral
knowledge, as with the child ; the other, conversely, because
of the advanced state of the moral maturity. This difference,
however, is by no means a real one ; and, when expressed in
this form, the idea of the allowed has no longer any unity,
but involves a direct antagonism. Rather do both of these
forms of the allowed fall under the one notion of the rights of
the personal peculiarity. Many things>are, for the peculiar
nature of the child, morally good, which are not so for a riper
person, and for the simple reason that the unsuspecting child,
in doing that which would be improper in those of riper
years, "thinketh no evil," and because the sentiment holds
good also of unconscious innocence, that ' ' to the pure all
things are pure." And the case is essentially the same with
him who is morally matured; simply the form is different.
When man has come, through moral growth, into a state of
conscious innocence, then also to him, as being pure, many a
tiling is pure which would be impure to the sinful.
§ 83.] PURE ETHICS. 133
SECTION LXXXIII.
In so far as the moral law is made into a moral
possession of the person, that is, a constituent element
of his personally-moral nature, it becomes to him a
moral principle, a life-rule or maxim • without moral
principles there is no real morality. As in this union
with the personal peculiarity the moral law itself
enters into this peculiarity, hence though it is in
fact the same always and for all men, still the life-
rules that grow out of this law, among different per
sons and nations and under different conditions in
life, must evidently also be relatively different.
The correct shaping of the moral law into life-rules
correspondent to the peculiarity of persons and cir
cumstances, constitutes the principal work of practi
cal wisdom. — A disregarding of the rights of the
personal peculiarity in the moral life, and the ex
clusive application of general and definitely-expressed
laws as direct rules of life, result in a servitude to a
legal yoke (rigorism) which is incapable of producing
any truly personal morality, and has no justification
save as a temporary disciplinary process in a state of
depravity.
The law is not of man, but solely of God ; life-rules each
person makes for himself, not, however, independently of the
law, but as based on it, though peculiarly modified by his
moral personality. The life-rule or maxim is the law as in
carnated, as having become subjective ; in it man has appro
priated the law as a personal possession, — has merged it into
his flesh and blood. My life-rule, even in so far as it is per
fectly correct, is valid in this definite form only for me, and
it may legitimately enough be widely different at different
life -stages and under different circumstances. The manifold-
ness of life-rules contributes to the esthetic richness of the
134: CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 83.
collective life of the race ; in them the moral idea, though
essentially one, yet shapes itself into a variegated diversity,
just as the light of day, though in itself essentially colorless,
is reflected back from flowers in a thousand varying tints. It
is true, the giving scope here for freedom of will involves
also a possibility of immoral self-determination ; and it is also
true that sin, in consequence of its essential deceptiveness,
seeks almost always to hide itself under the cloak of pretend-
edly legitimate life-rules, and thereby attains to its seductive
power, and that the free personal shaping of the moral law
into life-rules is possible without danger, only as proceeding
from pure and sanctified human nature, so that consequently
the severe discipline of the tutorial law appears as peculiarly
appropriate for the divine training of mankind before the full
realization of redemption ; but wherever morality is to become
perfect, that is, free, there the law itself must become an
inner freely-appropriated one, — must be received into the
personality as its essential possession, and not as a foreign
element, but as one that has coalesced with its essence; and
this essence is a personally-peculiar one. Even as natural
nutriment does not nourish in its natural crudeness, but only
in so far as it is received and really appropriated into the
natural organism and into its peculiarity, so is it also with
the moral law. From the possible danger of subordinating
the unconditional validity of the divine law to individual
caprice, there does not follow a condemnation of the person
ally-peculiar molding of the law, but only the requirement
that morality be based not on merely unconscious or obscure
feelings or impulses, but upon a positive clear consciousness
of God's will and of one's own moral condition. The non-
governing of one's self, the yielding of one's self to immediate
natural impulses, the giving rein to the spiritual and sensuous
proclivities that already exist irrespective of a knowledge of
the divine will, is per se, even where sin does not yet exist as
a power of evil, immoral. Moral life-wisdom is not an acqui
sition attained to in unserious play ; and slavish submission
to an all-specifying, rigorous law is easier than the free,
moral developing of life-rules on the basis of the more general
moral law. The less ripe the moral personality, so much the
more dictating must be the objective character of the law, so
§ 83.] PURE ETHICS. 135
much the more severe must be its discipline [Gal. iii, 24] ; and
the riper the moral nature of the person becomes, so much
the more freely and independently may and should he shape
the law into life-rules for himself.
It creates confusion to confound the moral law with personal
life-rules ; it inevitably leads either to legal bondage or to
moral laxity. The Scriptures contain not only moral laws,
but also life-rules for particular, not generally existing life-
relations, and the regarding these latter as general moral com
mands or counsels has sometimes led Christian ethics into
error. When the apostle recommends celibacy because of the
"present distress " [1 Cor. vii,] he gives simply a life-rule for
particular, expressly-stated circumstances; and, in order to
prevent all misunderstanding, he says, in relation to the un
married: "I have no commandment of the Lord" [verse 25].
By this, Paul does not mean that he establishes on his own
authority a new command without reference to any divine law,
but only that this specific life-rule is not itself a divine law,
but rather simply a rule of conduct applying the divine law to
particular circumstances. The law on which it is based, how
ever, is no.t: "Thou shaltnot marry," but: Care for the things
that belong to tRe Lord, and not for the things that belong to
the world [see verses 32, 34]. Monasticism made of this life-
rule an objective law or counsel. The instructions of Christ
to the apostles, when sent out to prepare the way for himself
[Matt, x, 9 sqq.]: "Provide neither gold nor silver nor brass
in your purses," etc., are not given as a moral rule to the
moral man in general, but to the apostles for this specific mis
sion. But the mendicant orders made of this also an objective
law. When Christ required of the rich young man to sell all
that he had and give it to the poor, it is perfectly evident that
this was simply a specific injunction for this particular person,
seeing that neither Christ nor the apostles required in all
cases, or in any manner, the giving up of possessions, not
withstanding their strong emphasizing of the duty of charity
[Acts v, 4; 1 Tim. vi, 17 sqq.; 2 Cor. viii, 1 sqq.]. The mo
nastic vow of poverty is a perverted application of this in
junction. To the same category belong the rules of propriety
for women, as given in 1 Cor. xi, 5, 10 sqq., and in part evi
dently also the resolution of the Apostolic Council [Acts xv,
136 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 84.
20, 29]. In all such rules either the assigned or the directly
implied reference to particular, but not generally existing and
permanent relations and circumstances, distinguishes them
very readily from general moral laws, the characteristic of
which is to be valid absolutely and always.
SECTION LXXXIV.
The moral law as (by virtue of the particular form
into which it is thrown by the peculiarity of the
moral person) requiring its realization in a particular
case, is moral duty; duty is, therefore, the law as
coming to actual application in moral action through
the moral life-rules into which it has been shaped by
appropriation into the moral person, — that is, it is
the law as realizing itself under the form of life-rules,
in other words, it is the law as shaping itself in and
for a particular person under particular circum
stances, and as becoming in him a determining and
actuating power. I fulfill the law in, that I do my
duty. The duties that spring from the same law are
different for diiferent men and for different circum
stances. — As, therefore, duty is the product of two
elements, the moral law and the peculiarity of the
person, and as the moral laws collectively, though
existing under the form of a plurality, must yet of
necessity constitute a concordant whole, hence, if we
leave out of view the actuality of sin, a conflict of
different duties with each other (collision of duties) is
utterly impossible. The distinction of conditional
and unconditional duties is not correct, and rests on a
confounding of the notions of law and duty.
The moral person does not directly and strictly fulfill the
law, but simply his duty. Even ordinary speech indicates
the difference; we do not say, "my law," but always, "my
duty." The law per se is general and above man; duty is al-
§ 84.] PURE ETHICS. 137
ways special and personal. No one person can do the duty of
another ; and what is duty for me, may be a violation of duty
for another. The law alone is directly prescribed ; to what
particular form of action this law, as appropriated into my
personality, determines or obligates me, is not directly ex
pressed in the law, but is the result of a moral judgment in
view of my special moral peculiarity and circumstances. We
cannot, therefore, with propriety institute a contrast between
conditional and unconditional duties. The condition is al
ready implied in the relation of the fulfillment of the law to
the fulfillment of duty ; what I may not or cannot now do, is
simply not my duty ; at another time, however, this same form
of action may become my duty. Any and every duty may,
with as much propriety, be called conditional as uncondi
tional ; in its becoming a duty it is always conditional ; when
ever, however, it actually presents itself, there there can no
longer be any question of conditionality. Whoever is in a
condition to rescue a person from imminent life-peril, has the
unconditional duty of doing so ; whoever cannot do so, has
no duty whatever in the matter ; between these two positions
there is no third one possible. With like propriety we may
say also that the law is at the same time conditional and un
conditional, but in a converse relation; in its essence it is
unconditional, in the manner of its fulfillment it is always
conditional. The law, "Thou shalt love thy -neighbor as
thyself," is in its moral contents unconditional; every human
being is an object of this love, but how this love is to be exer
cised, in what manner it is actually to manifest itself in actions,
that is, to what definite duties it shall lead, this depends on
manifold conditions not contained in the law itself ; to one's
husband or wife, or to parents, one owes a very different love
from that due to friends, and the very same sacrificing love
will manifest itself very differently toward the moral and
toward the immoral.
When the law is presented in the general form of command
or prohibition, the manners in which the manifold relations
of life make it the duty of different persons to fulfill it are so
different, that there may even arise an appearance of contra
diction. The fact is, however, that for a real conflict (collision)
pf duties (a subject which has from of old been a favorite and
138 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 84-
much discussed one among moralists) there is in a normal state
of humanity no possible place. Moral laws cannot come into
conflict with each other, otherwise the idea of the moral, and
the moral order of the universe itself, would be undermined ;
and there is just as little ground for a conflict between duties,
seeing that their conditionment is in fact based in part on the
personal peculiarity and special circumstances of the subjects.
The personal peculiarity of a sinful man may indeed come
into conflict with the moral law ; but in so far as this is the
case it forms no legitimate element in the construction of the
notion of duty ; rather will it become our duty in many re
spects to counteract this element. But all legitimate personal
peculiarity is itself formed in harmony with the uioral idea,
and hence cannot come into conflict therewith. For an irre
concilable collision of duties there is, therefore, nowhere any
manner of possibility.
The idea of duty is often otherwise understood than as here
presented. Duty is frequently declared to be the divine law
itself. Now if by this is meant, that which God requires of
us in each particular case, and that too of each individual in
particular, then it would be correct, — this, however, is not
expressed by the term "law ; " but if it means, that duty and
the divine law are identical, then it is incorrect. More definite
is the statement, that duty is the manner of action which con
forms to 01 harmonizes with the law. The Kantian school
explains ducy as that which, according to the law, should
take place, or which, by virtue of a law, is practically neces
sary, or which answers to an obligation, — obligation being
understood as the necessity of an action in consequence of a
moral law. All these statements are inadequate, inasmuch as
the personal peculiarity is left out of the account, so that con
sequently no difference whatever is made between duty and
law; and as to how obligation differs from duty we are ut
terly unable to see. Schleiermacher in his System (§ 112 sqq.~)
defines duty as "the form of conduct in which the activity
of the reason is at the same time special, as directed upon the
particular, and also general, as directed upon the totality,"
or, the law of the free self-determination of the individual in
relation to the common moral life-task of the race, or, the
, formula for the guidance of rationality in single actions in
§ 85.] PURE ETHICS. 139
the realizing of the highest good. That these, in the main,
correct statements, are still too indefinite, is shown even by
their numerousness. Similarly, but more definitely, Rothe ex
plains duty as that definite form of action which is required
by the moral law as under the form impressed upon it by the
individual instance.
SECTION LXXXV.
To duty on the part of the moral subject, corre
sponds right on the part of the law. My duty is to
fulfill the right of the moral law, that is, the right of
God to, or his claim upon, me. The substance of
dutiful action is therefore justice or right, and the
product of this action is the right, i. e., the realized
claim. Hence dutiful action is per se right-doing.
Duty and .right call for each other, — are but two
phases of the same thing; to every right there cor
responds a duty, and conversely, — simply the subjects
are different ; every duty is the expression of a right ;
another's right in regard to me is for me a duty, and
to the fulfillment of another's duty in regard to me I
have a right ; the two ideas are absolutely correlative
and co-extensive. In virtue of duty I accomplish the
moral, for the law has a right, a claim, upon me;
in virtue of right the moral is accomplished upon
me ; in the fulfilling of duty /keep the law; in my
accomplishing of the right the law keeps me. The
fulfilling of my duty obtains for me a right to, or
claim upon, the moral law in so far as this law is an
element of universal order, namely, the right to be a
real, living, and hence free, member of the moral
whole, — in other words, a moral claim on the just
recompense of God. There is, morally, no other
right of an individual than such as is conditioned by
a corresponding fulfillment of duty on his part;
140 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§85.
rights without duties would be a reversing of moral
world-order. God has an absolutely unlimited right
because he is absolutely holy, and man, as related to
God, is under absolute obligations. All right has
therefore its basis in God's right and in God's love.
Hence in the Scriptures the notion of duty is nearly
always presented as an indebtedness , — as the right of
God to man, as what man owes to God. God's right
eousness has a right to righteousness in man, and
hence righteousness is man's duty ; those who fulfill
their duty are therefore the righteous.
As duty is not merely of a subjective character, a mere
utterance of the individual consciousness, but the law as
appropriated by the person, so also, and equally emphatically,
is right also not a mere subjective something with no better
basis than a merely fortuitous power of the individual. Every
right of the individual is a special expression of the right of
the whole, and is valid only in so far as this individual is in
moral harmony with the whole. Whoever by undutif ul conduct
dissolves his union with the moral whole, loses thereby, in
like measure, his right to or claim upon the whole. Duty and
right are both an expression of the moral ; the former is the
moral as subjective obligation, the latter is the moral as ob
jective requirement ; both manifest the essence of the moral
as an essential law of collective being. The individual has
duties and rights only as in vital union with the whole. I
have duties and rights, not in virtue of being a mere indi
vidual, but in virtue of the fact that the totality of being
bears a moral character. From this it follows at once, that
there can be true duties and rights only where the morality of
the whole is based, not merely on the morality of the indi
vidual persons, — which would be a mere arguing in a circle, —
but where it is based on t»he holiness of the personality of
God. I can keep and fulfill the law only when the law keeps
and fulfills me; I can do my duty only when I therein recog
nize a right or claim of the moral whole, and hence of the holy
God, upon me. An impersonal whole has no right to, nor
§ 85.] PURE ETHICS. 141
claim upon, the personal spirit; from such a servitude Chris
tianity has definitively emancipated human thought ; nor has
one man, as upon his fellow, any other right or claim than
such as he derives from God ; that is, he has it only by the
grace of God ; that man has per se a right upon his fellow,
irrespective of God, is an un-Christian view; "Be not ye the
servants of men " [1 Cor. vii, 23] ; this is Christian right and
Christian freedom.
In such a moral world-order where duty and right are ab
solutely correlative, where right extends as far as duty, and
duty as far as right, every one receives strictly his own light
— his due. The dutiful man has a right upon the moral
whole, — a right to have his personality respected, — and it is
thus that the moral law, the moral world-order, realizes itself
on man ; it upholds in a just and honorable position him who
has upheld it. He who gives honor to God, to him God gives
also his honor. Also he who violates duty receives his right ;
every punishment is the fulfilling of the right of God and of
the collective universe upon the individual ; the criminal has a
right to the punishment ; when the criminal comes to his right
mind he demands himself his own punishment, and a child
that is not totally perverted finds a moral tranquillization in
suffering the punishment it deserves, — it even calls for it.
The notion that the fulfillment of moral duty acquires for
man a claim upon the moral order of the world, and hence
upon God, is emphatically rejected by Schwarz (Eth. I,"
p. 199), who even declares such a view as blasphemous ; God
alone, he holds, is the absolutely-entitled One; man has, as
toward God, simply duties, but no rights;. God only can have
claims upon us, not we upon God. And he appeals for sup
port to Rom. ix, 20; xi, 35 sqq.; Job ix, 12; Luke xvii, 10.
The first two passages, however, relate to the impossibility of
fathoming the eternal divine counsel, and declare any doubt
as to God's holiness and righteousness as unjustifiable ; more
over all of them relate exclusively to the condition of sinful-
ness, in which we of course concede, in harmony with Script
ure, that all salvation rests exclusively on the undeserved and
compassionate mercy of God. We are now speaking, however,
of man as not yet under sin, of the moral life in its unclouded
purity, and here the matter stands very differently. If God's
142 - CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 35.
righteousness is not a mere empty figure of speech, it must
form the basis of a moral right ; we cannot doubt that God
rewards each according to his moral conduct; and when a
truly moral creature receives from God a just reward [Rom. ii,
6, 7, 13], this is not a mere compassionating gift, but it is
justice, and the creature has, in virtue of his righteousness, a
claim upon such a reward. It is indeed a gracious gift of the
Creator, that he has made the creature thus noble, that it is
permitted to bear in itself God's own image ; but that God
regards and treats the creature that has become positively
holy, in view of and in reference to that fact, is simply justice.
As the sinner receives but his right when the divine punish
ment falls upon him, so also the sinless creature receives but
his right when he is an object of the divine pleasure. To
think otherwise on this point would be to overthrow our
notion of a holy and just God. The Scriptures express very
distinctly this thought of the right of the moral person upon
God, even in circumstances where, because of sin, there can
no longer be any question of a right strictly speaking, — so that,
then, it is in fact a pure grace that God, notwithstanding
this, yet concedes to man such rights. Of the justifying faith
of Abraham, Paul says, ' ' To him that worketh is the reward
not reckoned of grace, but of debt " [Rom. iv, 4] ; if therefore
man should really and truly fulfill the law of God, then his
reward would fall to him in due course of justice. The infer
ence of the apostle, as to the worth of faith for sinful man,
would not have tho least basis should we presume to regard
this declaration of his as per se meaningless and impossible ;
and this holds good in the fullest sense of man as untouched
by sin, as also it is true of the Son of man. The true and real
fulfilling of the law has in fac't eternal life as its just reward
[Matt, xix, 17] ; the only question is, as to whether in fact any
person perfectly fulfills the law as Christ did. The doctrine
-of grace for the redeemed is not interfered with by that of a
claim of the moral man upon God, but receives in fact thereby
its proper foundation. In the idea of the Covenant which God
made with the Patriarchs, and as to which li^e himself says :
' ' I have made a covenant with my chosen, I have sworn to
David my servant: Thy seed will I establish forever," etc.,
there is contained also the idea of a right upon God as gra-
§ 85.] PURE ETHICS. 143
ciously conceded even to sinful man, provided he should obey
the voice of God and keep his commandments [Psa. Ixxxix, 4 ;
Exod. ii, 24; xix, 5; Deut. vii, 8, 9, 12; ix, 5]. That God
should make such a covenant, is pure grace ; but now that
He, the truthful One, has made it, it follows that those who
keep it acquire thereby a right to its fulfillment on the part
of God; and hence the pious of the Old Covenant make
appeal in their petitions to the promises of God [Gen. xxxii,
12; Exod. xxxii, 13; Deut. ix, 26 sqq.]. The great emphasis
which the Scriptures place upon the thought of the covenant
of God with man, which is, in fact, more than a promise, im
plies very clearly that here the moral character of God, as well
as that of man, is essentially involved. We need only sepa
rate from the idea of a right all that the sinful heart has
associated therewith, all that is presumptuous and self-seek
ing, and it will no longer have the least feature that could
give offense to the most reverential mind. The Scriptures
present the thought of duty as intimately connected with the
idea of right ; and this involves, in fact, the profoundest con
ception of the moral. Here, all dutiful living, on the part of
man, is a right of God upon him (DWMp), a paying of his debt
to God, — it is 60«A#, — and man is debtor to God and to the
brethren [Rom. i, 14; viii, 12; Luke xvii, 10; comp. 1 Cor.
vii, 22] ; and God's laws are an expression of the rights of
God [Lev. xviii, 4, 5 ; xix, 37 ; xxv, 18 ; Deut. vii, 12 ; xxxiii,
10; Psa. xix, 10; 1, 16; cv, 45; cxix, 5 sqq.; Isa. xxvi, 9; and
others]. By virtue of his moral nature, of the likeness of God
that was impressed upon him, man becomes in turn a debtor,
— is under obligation to bring this nature into realization, to
fulfill the claim or right of God upon him ; and he who ful
fills this right is consequently just or righteous: "He hath
showed thee, O man, what is good (the moral law) ; and what
doth the Lord require of thee (as duty) but to do justly (the
right) and to love mercy ? " [Micah vi, 8 ; comp. Deut. x,
12, 13]. Thus, as it appears, the Scriptures present rather the
objective phase of the moral, the right of God and of the
divine law upon man ; whereas the moralists of recent times,
especially since Kant, devote their attention rather to its sub
jective phase, as duty.
In the manner of viewing the relations between right and
144 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§85.
duty there often prevails some confusion ; right is often con
founded with discretionary power, whereas, in fact, the
former is more than the latter, and contains an actual require
ment ; or, right is regarded as the mere possibility or liberty
to act. Furthermore a great difference is frequently made
between right and the right, the two being taken as capable
of excluding each other, so that I may have a right and yet
its execution be not right. This, in so far as the question is
as to moral right, is manifestly absurd. It is true, according
to civil law, I may have a so-called right in the exercising of
which I shall do wrong ; but of such civil right we are not
here speaking; in the sphere of morality I can never have a
right to what is wrong, and I can never exercise a right with
out doing the right. I have a right only in so far as the
moral law takes me under the protection of the moral order
of the universe ; I have a right upon another in so far as he
has a moral duty to fulfill toward me ; I have right conduct
in so far as I myself realize the moral law ; and this I do in
fact when I do not throw away my own moral right, but.
maintain it intact. Whenever I have a moral right, then is it
also right to realize it.
§ 86.] PURE ETHICS. 145
CHAPTER III.
THE OBJECT OF THE MORAL ACTIVITY.
SECTION LXXXVL
As the moral is the free realizing of the good, and
as the good itself is the inner law and nature of the
divinely-created All, hence, in every moral activity,
man comes into relation to this All, and this All — as
well as also God himself — becomes in its entire exist
ence, so far as within the scope of man, an object of
.the moral activity, namely, either in that as a good
it is brought into unity with the moral person, or
appropriated by the same, — or in that, as material
capable of being modified, it is formed by the moral
activity.
I. The moral life relates primarily always to God.
God can be an object of the morally-pious activity
only in so far as he is conceived of as a personal
spirit ; to an impersonal God there can be no moral
relation. This moral activity is not a mere receiv
ing, but it is a real acting, namely, in that man
not only turns himself toward God, but in that he
also turns God toward himself; the good that is real
ized by this activity becomes actual, however, not in
God, but in us, in that it brings us into communion
with God, so that consequently all pious activity is
at the same time a moral producing for ourselves. —
As God upholds, and rules in, all creatures, hence
all moral activity without exception stands in relation
VOL. II— 11
146 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 86.
to God, arid all realizing of the good works com
munion with God. All that is moral is also pious,
and all that is pious is also moral. Hence all duties
are also duties to God, and religious duties do not
stand along-side of other duties, but they include
them in themselves.
Every view is defective which excludes from the moral life
any thing whatever that comes into the life-sphere of man.
This is precisely that which distinguishes rational creatures
from the irrational, namely, that the latter have always sim
ply a quite definite and restricted scope for their life-mani
festation, while every thing else is indifferent to them, and as
good as not existing, whereas rational creatures have an in
terest in all that exists, and bring it into some manner of
relation to themselves. Perfect indifference to the world is
Indian, but not Christian, wisdom ; God is indifferent to
nothing, and for this reason moral man, the image of God, is
so also. The collective All and God himself constitute the
life-sphere of the moral. Because of the inner unity of all
things, every moral act not only reverberates in the whole
universe, and there is joy among the angels in heaven over
one sinner that repents, but this act itself acts upon the All,
for all that is good and all that is capable of good belong
together in one great unity. The declaration : " Whether life,
or death, or things present or things to conic — all are yours "
[1 Cor. iii, 22], holds good in its fullest sense of the moral
life, although indeed our moral bearing toward the different
forms of existence is correspondingly different; to nature the
moral spirit is related as dominating, to God as obeying.
The conceiving of God himself as an object of the moral
activity is a fundamental point in Christian ethics. It is
true the heathen also required reverence toward the gods, but
this exercise of piety did not rise to a dominating power over
the entire moral life. In recent times it has become a favorite
view to regard the moral as not relating to God at all, but
only to man, or indeed also to nature ; it is even said that
God cannot be an object of the moral activity, seeing that
because of his unapproachable sublimity he must be inaccess-
§ 86.] PURE ETHICS. 147
ible to all human influence. Evidently, with this view of the
matter, prayer is narrowed down to a mere pious exercise
without any other possible efficacy than to benefit the person
so exercising ; it would be more consequential, however, for
those who think thus to follow Kant, and discard prayer alto
gether as empty and meaningless. It does not come within
our scope to answer here the question, how the answering of
prayer is reconcilable with the eternally-immutable nature of
God, but we simply accept from dogmatics the unquestion
ably Scriptural principle, that God actually does hear and
answer prayer, that prayer and its answering are not a delu
sion, but that proper prayer really and truly conditions the
answering of the petitions, and that consequently it has a
positive influence on the bearing of God toward man. True
prayer is impossible so soon as I entertain the opinion that it
has no effect, that the gracious turning of God toward me is
not in some way conditioned thereby. This does not imply
that God comes into any manner of dependence on man;
whatever he does is eternally self-determined, but it is deter
mined in view of the moral bearing of man as divinely gifted
with rational freedom. In this sense, prayer is really a moral
activity in relation to God, and God is a real object of the
same. Prayer is the beginning and the end of all moral
activity. The sentiment: "Pray and work," holds good of
all and every moral life ; the two do not stand beside each other,
but consist only in and with each other.
God, as living and personal, cannot sustain a relation of
indifference to human conduct. If we can speak in any prop
er sense of a displeasure of God at sin, of a wrath of God
against sin, then must also, conversely, the pleasure of God
in the moral conduct of man be of a real character, and,
hence, in some manner, conditioned by said conduct. The
moral activity as relating to God is per se necessarily pious ;
but to presume, for this reason, to exclude it from the sphere
of the moral, would be very inconsistent ; for in fact it takes
place with freedom, and with moral consciousness and with
moral purpose, and it is frequently, in the Scriptures, ex
pressly required as a duty ; and all duties are moral. But,
on the other hand, all duties are also pious, inasmuch, as mo
rality is always' in very close association with piety (§ 55),
148 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§86.
and no duty can in fact be truly fulfilled without being
regarded as an expression of the divine will, and hence with
out pious submission to that will. We therefore must reject
the view that there are no moral duties toward God, and no
moral influencing of God ; if there are sins against God, as,
for example, blasphemy, then there must also be duties to
ward Him, — and we must, further, reject the view that the
duties toward God constitute a special group entirely distinct
from the others, so that in fact the duties toward man might
be fulfilled without at the same time also fulfilling those
toward God.
The distribution of the subject-matter of ethics into du
ties toward God, duties toward one's self an,d duties toward
other men, was formerly very usual ; it was, however, only
partially correct. God fills, in fact, heaven and earth, and the
statement of Christ that whatever ' ' ye have done unto one
of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me "
[Matt, xxv, 40], is of course true also in relation to God. It
might, however, be said that, while it is true that all other
duties imply in themselves also a fulfillment of duty toward
God, yet that the converse is not true, so that consequently
the duties of piety might be considered by themselves, see
ing that in fact in the duty of worshiping God no other duty
is directly implied. This is, however, only seemingly so; for
in every duty toward God, I fulfill also directly at the same
time a duty toward myself: I cannot possibly love and honor
God without exalting myself into communion with Him ;
whatever man does to the honor of God is at the same time
a self-transfiguration ; he cannot praise God as his Father
without confirming himself as the child of God. Moreover
toe can do this only in so far as he, at the same time, divests
himself of illegitimate self-love ; and only that one can be in
communion with God, who likewise enters into communion
with the God-fearing. The fulfilling of our moral duties to-
•ward God implies consequently in itself, really and directly
at the same time also, the fulfilling of our duties toward those
who are beloved of God. Hence, the moral relation to God
is the central spring of all other moral life, and our duties
toward God do not stand co-ordinate with and apart from
our other duties.
§ 87.] PURE ETHICS. 149
SECTION LXXXVIL
II. The moral activity as strengthened by its moral
relation to God, that is, by communion with Him,
comes now, and only in consequence of this strength
ening, into a truly moral relation to the created, — com
prehending both the moral person himself and also
the, to him, objective world.
(1) The moral person is his own object. Man is
morally to form, to cultivate himself — to make his per
sonal peculiar reality a product of his moral activity.
Man is what he is as a person solely in virtue of moral
activity ; without this activity he remains in spiritual
unculture, and is essentially impersonal. Hence man
is, in so far, an object of his own moral activity, as
he has not yet attained to his ultimate perfection, —
in so far as he is a cultivable and, as yet, relatively
incompleted being, that is, in so far as there is yet a
difference between his ideal and his reality. Man is
to form himself into a good entity, that is, into a per
sonal reality that is in full harmony with God, with
itself and with the All, in so far as this is good.
The possibility of man's bearing a moral relation to him
self rests on the nature of rational self-consciousness,
wherein man becomes in fact an object to himself. If man
were from the very start absolutely perfect and complete, hg
would still be, even then, an object of his own moral activ
ity, only however under its conserving, but not under its form
ative, phase. Progressive development is implied in the very
nature of the created spirit, and there is no Stage of temporal
life conceivable where man would not have a still higher per
fection to attain to, and further moral culture to work out. —
All self- forming, unless kept in harmony with God, becomes
necessarily anti-moral. Man can, it is true, develop himself
in harmony with himself without being in harmony with God,
150 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§87.
— this is, however, a culture of self into the diabolical ; and
if he forms himself merely in harmony with the world, he
becomes an immoral worldling, and if in this worldliness he
leaves self-harmony out of the question, then he becomes
simply characterless.
(a) The spirit is an object of the moral activity in virtue
of its being per se merely the possibility of its real develop
ment into a rational spirit, — the germ of itself, — and because
it does not develop itself into its full reality by inner nature-
necessity, but by freedom. Man has, in virtue of his very
constitution, the task of forming himself into the full reality
and truth of spiritual being, namely, in respect both to his
knowing, to his feeling, and to his willing, — that is, into the
perfect image of God. The soul-life of brutes shapes itself
by inner nature-necessity ; brutes have no need of education ;
man, however, without education and without moral self-cul
ture would sink below the brute, and for the evident reason
that he would thus fall into complete self-antagonism; his
freedom would become unbridled barbarity. Spirit lives only
by continuous development ; where it is not morally trained,
it pines away and degenerates. What Christ says of the re
ceived talents [Matt, xxv, 14 sqq.] is especially true also of
the moral culture of the spirit. .
(J) The body is an object of the moral activity in so far as
it is the necessary organ of the spirit in its relation to the
world. It is not from the very start an absolutely subserving
and perfectly spirit-imbued organ (§ 65,66), nor does it become
such by purely natural development, but it is trained into
such only by the rightful dominating of the rational spirit
over it. The merely natural development of the spirit forms
not as yet a spirit's-body, but only an unspiritual animal body.
Even as in the features of the countenance, spiritual uncul-
ture and spiritual refinement are almost always visibly ex
pressed, so is also the body in its entire being subject to the
refining influence of the moral spirit ; and this influence ought
not to be of a merely mediate and unintended character, as
resulting from the unconsciously-ruling potency of the spirit
ual life in the body, but in fact also of an immediate character.
The good that inheres in the body is to be faithfully pre
served, — the germs of higher perfection to be developed.
§88.] PURE ETHICS. 151
Whatever is originally given in the body, whether as actuality
or as capacity, is a legitimate possession of the spirit and
should not be lightly esteemed. To despise the body is to
dishonor the Creator. It should not be honored, however, as
merely corporeal, but as subserving the spirit in its rational
life-work, — not as an end in itself, but as an end for the spirit.
"Glorify God in your body;" this moral precept, the apostle
bases on the fact that this body is "a temple of the Holy
Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not
your own" [1 Cor. vi, 19, 20]. The body is not a mere
nature-object, but a holy temple of a sanctified spirit, — bears
the consecration "of a sacred destination ; man has not discre
tionary power over it, as over a mere nature-object, — not
merely as over an unconditional possession, but as over a good
intrusted to him by God, and belonging to God, and for
wrhich he must give account to God.
SECTION LXXXVIII.
(2) The external world as an object of the moral
activity, — the widest and almost endlessly diversified
field of this activity, — is — (a) the world of rational
beings, — primarily and chiefly the world of humanity.
To the moral person other persons stand, on the one
hand, in the relation of similarity, in virtue of the
common possession of a rational nature, and, on the
other, in the relation of difference, in so far as each
individual is an independent moral person with a
special peculiarity ; and it is the part of the moral
activity at once to respect, to acknowledge, to pre
serve, and to promote both these features, and to
bring them into reciprocal harmony. A human be
ing never becomes, for the persoi> acting upon it. a
merely dependent rightless object, but in all cases
continues to be a personality that is to be respected
in its legitimate peculiarity, and hence it should
never become an uufree and as it were impersonal
152 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 88.
creation of another, but it is an object for the moral
activity only so far as it is itself at the same time
recognized and treated as a moral subject. The moral
bearing of man to his fellows rests essentially on the
thought of the inner, and not merely conceived, but
also real, unity of the human race, which finds its
whole truth only in the thought of the common
origin of all men from a first-created primitive indi
vidual.
Here also Christian morality comes into striking antagonism
to all non-Christian morality. The thought of mankind as a
homogeneous whole of which each individual is a legitimate
rightful member, is peculiar to Christianity ; the heathen know
only nations and compatriots but not humanity and man ; even
the free Greek and the Roman make the distinction both in
fact and in law between persons and slaves; the slave is only
a thing, not a moral personality. All acting upon others
which aims simply to exert an influence upon them without
also receiving an influence from them, is immoral. Even the
immature child necessarily exerts some influence upon its
educator; and when Christ presented a child to his disciples
as a moral pattern [Matt, xviii, 3, 4], this is not to be regarded
as holding good simply in a loose sense and for the morally
immature, on the contrary it is the moral essence of the child,
its God-likeness, that is, in fact, a true mirror of the moral
even for the relatively mature educator, and that has a right
to his respect. That person is a pernicious educator who has
never experienced a real moral influence upon himself from
the child, — who has never recognized in the soul of the child
the features of the image of God, nor been impressed with re
spect for G\\\\(\-nalvete ; and it is the acme of meanness not to
respect and sacredly to protect child-innocence.
The moral conceiving of man as an object of the moral
activity, presupposes that we have in fact to do with real true
men, men who are not only similar to us, but who are bound
to us as members of one body. To creatures which, while be
longing to the zoological order limana, and while differing
from the ape by the formation of the skull and of the feet and
§ 88.] PUKE ETHICS. 153
by an erect walk, yet should have been from of old distin
guished, both in their origin and also in their spiritually-in
ferior nature, from the so-called " nobler" race of the whites,
we could not come into the same moral relation as to those
who are our brethren. The question as to the origin of the
different races of men has a deep moral significancy, and is of
fundamental importance for ethics. The natural science of
the present day, which has become largely infected with a
spirit-denying materialism, is well known to have until quite
recently declared it as a fully-established fact that the vari
ous physically-differing races of men are of different origin,
and cannot have descended from a single primitive race ; and
there are not a few persons, in other respects favorable to the
Christian faith, who recognize these pretended "results of
modern science " as really such, and regard them as beyond
question. It is not here the place to examine the scientific
worth of these so-esteemed results ; we have to do with the
question here only in its moral significancy. We merely re
mark in passing, that we must absolutely deny to an experi
mental science — and this is the pretended source of said
results — the right to decide upon matters that lie beyond all
experience. Such science can simply affirm what is, or is not,
but it cannot decide what cannot possibly be. "Empirical"
natural science may be justifiable in saying, that so far as
experience goes, a white person is never born of a negro, nor
a negro of a white person, though even this is not uncontested,
but it has no scientific ground for inferring, that, conse
quently, it can also never have been otherwise. Inferences of
this kind, illegitimate even according to the simplest rules of
logic, are overturned almost daily by the mere progress of
science. Moreover, it is not unworthy of remark that the
position: "as it is in the life of nature now, so must it always
have been," is applied to the question before us by the very
same persons who cannot admit that the human race could have
otherwise originated than through some .extraordinarily potent
nature-process — through human germs, forsooth, that were
cast from the sea upon the shore. — and who in reply to "the
question : why then this interesting nature-process has not re
peated itself also in our own day, or at least during the his
torical period in general? immediately exclaim, that nature
154 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§88.
has declined in her generative power. On the whole, there
fore, and in view of the fact that the latest ' ' progress " of
this particular wing of natural science takes ground in direct
antagonism to the above pretended unassailable "results,"
namely, in regarding man as an advanced development of the
ape (Darwin), we may without the least anxiety spare our
selves the trouble of refuting the above-mentioned earlier
view, and abandon this "modern" science to its own further
self-dissolution.
Christianity has from the beginning had a clear conscious
ness of the moral significancy of the original unity of the
human race. Though God had undoubtedly the power to
create thousands of men in the different parts of the earth,
instead of one, as he did in fact do in the case of plants and
animals, nevertheless it must be for good reasons that in the
Scriptures the whole human race is assumed to have sprung
from a single stock [Gen. i, 27, 28 ; ii, 18 ; iii, 20]. There is
involved here an antagonism of the natural and the spiritual
stand-points, and that too in a moral respect. According to
naturalism the unity of the world is a merely conceived some
thing, — in reality it is a product of a presupposed multi
plicity of single existences ; and also the good, which in its
nature is a manifestation-form of unity, is not an element
fundamental and presupposed in every single existence, but it
is simply a consequence — a product of the active individual ;
the good is ever to "be without ever and truly being. Accord
ing to the Christian system, however, the real unity and the
real good are every-where the first, the fundamental, while
multiplicity is only of a derived character. Here the moral
is simply and solely the following of God as the absolutely
good One, a free manifestation of a unity with God which in
fact, however, originally existed, — which had not first to be
realized, but only revealed,. witnessed, and freely virtualized.
Man is able to be moral only Iwcause, in his nature, he is al
ready at one with God. So is it also in his moral relation to
mankind ; the unity of the total sum of individual men is not
first to be created out of an original multiplicity, and to be
constituted as an entirely new something, but it' is simply
(and this is the origin and the reason of this plurality) to be
freely and morally witnessed and confirmed. Humanity is to
§ 88.] PURE ETHICS. 155
become morally one, for the reason that in their origin they
are already one ; love to mankind is simply fidelity to the
nature of man as existing from the beginning. This view is
in diametrical antagonism to naturalistic ethics ; and hence
Paul presented it very prominently, at Athens, as the pecul
iarly-Christian view in contrast to heathenism [Acts xvii, 26 ;
comp. Rom. v, 12, sqq.] ; the latter estranges humanity into an
original diversity ; the former attributes all hostile antagonisms
to the workings of sin.
The very natural and in fact morally legitimate feeling, that
blood-relatives stand to us in a closer relation of duty than
entire strangers, contains a profound truth. It calls forth
really a very different and morally more potent feeling, when
we know that even the degenerated negro is of our own blood,
our brother, sprang from one father, than if we should assume
that he is originally, and by nature, of a spiritually and cor
poreally inferior species [August., De Civ. Dei., xii, 21]. That
which forms no unessential part of the world-historical honor of
Christianity, namely, that it has made slavery morally impos
sible, has been again absolutely put into question by the
teachings of naturalism ; and . it is scientifically as well as
morally a signal indication of inconsideration, and especially
so on the part of theologians, to declare the decision of the
question as to the original unity of the human race as a mere
non-essential matter. By the assumption that there were
originally different races, the slavery-system is not only ex
cused, but it is directly justified. In fact man has not only
not the duty, but he has not the right to break down the
original and naturally-constituted differences of spiritual ex
istence. But the moral influencing of the degenerate races
consists essentially in raising the actually lower-standing in
dividuals of the colored races to the height of the whites, — in
placing them both, in spiritually-moral respects, on an equal
footing, in making of the colored races our true and proper
brothers, in doing away, in fact, with whatever places them
actually below the whites. But the effort to do this would
be, in the eyes of the above-mentioned teaching, a simple
presumption, a transgression^ of the limits prescribed to us by
nature herself ; according to it, the negro is destined by his
primitive and manifestly inferior peculiarity, to service under
156 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 89.
the higher race, and it would be a criminal interference with
the ordinances of nature to wish to change this. That which
has hitherto passed for the greatest stain upon a perverted
Christian civilization, the re-establishment of slavery, can find
no more desirable an apology than these results of a perverted
science ; and it is a standing and entirely consequential opin
ion among even the most liberal-thinking champions of this
tendency, that negroes are in fact but half-men and should
remain such.
SECTION LXXXIX.
(&) External nature as an object of the moral activity
is such not merely in its single manifestations, but
also in its totality. On the one hand, nature exists
not for itself but for the rational spirit for man ; on
the other, it is, as a work of divine creation, a good
thing, and hence has rights in and of itself. —
(1) Nature is by origin and essence destined to be
dominated by the rational spirit as God's image, —
to be formed by the spirit into its organ and for its
service. As nature is not per se moral, hence man's
moral relation to it does not consist in his receiving
from it a direct moral influence, though indeed he
does receive from it a mediate moral influence
through the contemplation of the image of God as
manifesting itself therein, but in his acting morally
upon it. For the single individual, this action is al
ways limited to a narrow theater, but for humanity
it extends to all terrestrial nature. As the body is
related to the individual spirit, so is nature related
to humanity in general; nature's destination is to be
perfectly subservient to man and to be exalted in the
service of his rational destination. — (2) But this
dominating of nature is essentially conditioned on
the truly moral and hence rational selfculture of
man, in virtue of which nature is not to be subjected
§ 89.J PURE ETHICS. 157
to the whims of irrational caprice; for, as God's
work, nature has claims upon man ; it is legitimately
an object for human activity only in so far as man
subordinates himself to the divine will, whose pecul
iarity it is not to destroy but to preserve.
The relation of nature to the rational spirit is neither that
of an object absolutely different from and foreign to it, seeing
that both are the work of one creative spirit, nor that of a
power entitled to dominate over the same ; this would be a re
versing of the moral order of the world ; for that which is per
se higher and rational should not be enslaved under that which
is inferior and irrational. If, therefore, nature and spirit exist
for each other, and if they are to constitute an intimate unity,
then the only relation possible is, that the spirit shall be the
dominating power over nature, — the power that forms and
molds it. And if in reality the relation is in many respects
now actually otherwise, still this should not lead us astray in
conceiving of the true relation between them in a sinless state.
The rational consciousness of all nations has at least some
presentiment of the proper relation. Even as in all forms of
superstition a more or less clear expression is given to a pre
sentiment, though indeed misapplied, of a corresponding
deeper truth that lies beyond the grasp of the superficial un
derstanding, so also has the notion of magic, so widely prev
alent throughout heathendom, its roots in a presentiment of
the true relation of reason to nature.* It is but the childishly
perverted thought, that the spirit should not be enslaved under
un spiritual nature, — that its true destination is to cause nature
to subserve it in its own purposes. When Christ, in his char
acter of Son of man, exerts his mastery over nature, and by
his miraculous deeds counterworks the sufferings that have
sprung from the enslavement of sinful humanity under nature,
and when he promises like power also to his disciples on con
dition of faith [Matt, xvii, 20; Mark xvi, 17, 18; Luke x, 19;
xvii, 6 ; John xiv, 12], he simply indicates, though primarily
only in a typical manner, the true goal of human development
* See the author's Qesch. des Heidentums, i, 141, and his Deutscher
Volksaberglaube, 1860.
158 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 89
in its relation to nature. The miracle does not play feats with
nature, it simply dominates it, — subjects it not to the irra
tional caprice of the individual will, but to the rational will
of man as in union with God ; and it is a rational demand of
the rational will, to be free from all fetters that lie outside of
the rational will, — to be untrammeled in its activities by suf
ferings that spring from bondage to spirit-hostile nature.
Nevertheless nature is not to be considered as mere material
for the active spirit, and absolutely without rights of its own ;
it has a right to be respected, because of the rationality that is
impressed upon it. From the face of nature the Spirit of the
Creator beams forth upon us with striking evidence ; here also
there is holy ground which man should not tread with un
washed feet. That is not a moral bearing toward nature
which forgets the image of God that is stamped upon it, and
which, in the zeal of shaping and enjoying it, perceives not
that also natural objects, even while as yet untouched by the
plastic hand of man, proclaim the glory of God. The Hindoo's
dread-reverencing of natural objects, though indeed oblivious
of the Creator, has yet a positive presentiment of the divine
in the works of the, to him, unknown God.
§ 90.] PURE ETHICS. . 159
CHAPTER IY.
THE MORAL MOTIVE.
SECTION XC.
EVERY motive to action is primarily a feeling / but
feeling springs from a consciousness. And feeling is
such motive under both of its forms of manifestation,
as feeling of satisfaction or of dissatisfaction, and
hence of pleasure or of displeasure. The feeling of
displeasure is to be assumed as existing to a certain
degree also in a state of strictly normal life-develop
ment, namely, in so far as man, before reaching his
last stage of perfection, has always a consciousness,
that as yet something is lacking to him to which he
is yet to attain. This is not pain, but yet it is a feel
ing of want.
Any view is contrary to the nature of the soul-life which
assumes any other soul activity, as, for example, cognition, as
the most immediate motive of the moral. Thought per se
contains nothing that moves the will ; but thought is in fact
never absolutely alone, is never a merely inert possession, but
it excites at once and necessarily a feeling, and then, through
this feeling, the will. I feel myself in some way affected by
the perceived or conceived, more or less agreeably or dis
agreeably, according as it is in harmony with, or in contradic
tion to, my present state. An entire indifference is here im
possible, though indeed the shades of the feeling of pleasure or
displeasure may be very different, — impossible for the reason
that that which I receive into myself sensuously or spiritually,
must necessarily come into some sort of relation to my present
corporeal or spiritual reality, and for the reason that this rela-
160 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 90.
tion must always be either one of harmony or disharmony.
It is true indeed that the different phases of a received impres
sion may have different bearings, and hence the feeling that
arises from them may be of a complex character ; nevertheless
in this complexity the elements of the pleasant and the un
pleasant remain always distinct, — do not coalesce together
into a feeling of total indifference, just as every object that is
taken for nutriment is either strengthening or weakening to
the body, but cannot be absolutely indifferent. Now, every
feeling stirs up also straightway the will, and hence activity in
general ; in case it is a pleasant feeling we desire to possess its
object, either by preserving it or by appropriating it ; in case
the feeling is unpleasant we seek to get rid of it. In this
double-movement all action is embraced, and hence also all
that is moral ; and this movement itself rests absolutely on an
antecedent feeling. Thought, it is true, is the foundation of
the moral, but it is only the feeling excited thereby that is-the
motive proper of action. Only he can will the good who has
pleasure in the law of the Lord [Rom. vii, 22 ; Psa. i, 2 ; cxii, 1].
— When the thought of something not yet existing, but which
may be realized by my action, awakens in me a feeling of
pleasure, this is in fact the thought of a good, which, by virtue
of this feeling, becomes an intention, which differs from a
resolution in the fact that the latter relates not to the good itself
but to the means of realizing it. While, however, an inten
tion refers to a good, a purpose refers to the good. I purpose
to become a perfect man ; I have an intention of mastering a
science ; I form a resolution or determination to study. But
a thought becomes to me a purpose only by the accession
thereto of the feeling of love ; in a resolution the will stands
forth a little more actively.
It might, now, seem that while in the condition of the primi
tive sinless goodness of human nature, there would be place
for feelings of pleasure, that is, of happiness, yet there would
not be occasion for the feeling of displeasure. This would
be only then correct when man's original perfection should be
conceived of, contrary to the very idea of life in general, as a
state of completion. But all capability of development im
plies a certain lack, though not a fault, nor a non-good ; and
every consciousness of a lack awakens the feeling of a want,
§ 91.] PURE ETHICS. 161
which, though it is not a pain, and does not destroy inward
happiness, is yet also not the pleasurable feeling of complete
satisfaction. That even he who is perfectly constituted, and
who remains in this perfection, should still have bodily and
spiritual wants, which are per se necessarily attended with a
certain, though indeed only momentary, feeling of displeasure,
is implied in the very nature of the creature and of its de
velopment.
SECTION XCI.
Feeling as relating to the object that excites it, is,
as a feeling of pleasure, love, and, as a feeling of dis
pleasure, hatred. Between these two there is no
third, although both may exist in different degrees
and even in association with each other. Hence love
is the feeling of pleasure which springs from the
consciousness of the harmony of a real or conceived
object with the actual state of the subject, together
with a desire to preserve and to perfect this harmony,
and hence also to preserve the being and essence of
this object. Hatred is the feeling of displeasure
which springs from the consciousness of an irrecon
cilable antagonism between the object and the subject,
together with a desire to destroy this antagonism in
the object, even should this involve the destruction
itself of that object. In a normal moral condition
of things where all that exists is good, love alone has
a real object, while hatred has only a possible one. —
Love is essentially of a preserving character, hatred
is essentially of a negating, destroying character ; as,
however, all moral action aims to create a reality by
continuous development, hence preserving love is
necessarily at the same time also promotive of the
being and nature of the beloved object, and negating
hatred is at the same time a confirming of the oppo
site of the hated object. Hence love works in order
VOT, IT— 12
162 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 91.
to be able to love always ; hatred works ill order to
destroy itself; love lives in order to be eternal;
hatred lives in order to come to an end ; only that
hatred can be endless whose object is eternal — namely,
Satanic hatred. As moral hatred is necessarily an
effort to destroy the antagonism of existence, that is,
to re-establish its harmony, hence it is in essence the
same thing as love. Hatred is per se as moral as
love, — is but its necessary reverse phase. There is
no moral love without hatred, and no moral hatred
without love ; pure hatred without love would be
simply Satanic hatred. As moral hatred is in its
essence love, hence the actual motive of all moral
activity is love.
"Love is the fulfilling of the law " [nvl^ay/a, Rom. xiii, 10] ;
in this formula the Christian idea of the moral motive is very
definitely expressed ; love leads to the fulfillment of the law ;
it is the rich fullness in which all law is included. Without
love there is no morality ; and where love is, there morality is
truly free, for love develops itself into all forms of the moral.
Hence Christ, after the example of the Old Testament [Deut.
vi, 5 ; x, 12 ; xi, 13], sums up the whole law in the one precept of
love to God and to our neighbor [Matt, xxii, 37 ; Luke x, 27] ;
"This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments "
[1 John v, 3] ; love is not and cannot be a mere inert feeling,
but it is by its very nature active, it produces that which its
subject loves, — brings about the full and free harmony of the
person and his life with God. Whoever assigns any other
motive for morality than love, knows nothing of the moral.
But love tends by its essential nature to a unity of the diverse,
— seeks not its own mere isolated being. Mere self-love to
the exclusion of love to others is not love at all, but only im
moral self-seeking; it is indeed a motive to action, but to
anti-moral action. Even that which appears in the animal
world us an unconscious symbol of moral virtue, is based on
love, and is an expression thereof. There is no form of moral
activity conceivable which would not be an expression of love
§ 92. PURE ETHICS. 163
[1 Cor. xvi, 14]. — The moral love of the divine is, per se and
necessarily, also hatred against that which is ungodly. But as
the ungodly is primarily not real but only conceivable, and as
this thought itself becomes really vital only through the reality
of sin, it does not come here properly within our scope.
Love is taken here primarily as not yet a virtue or a dispo
sition, but as a simple feeling occasioned by a consciousness
of harmony or of disharmony. The love that is required as
the fulfilling of the law is more than mere feeling, though
indeed it has feeling as its basis and essence. And yet the
love here in question is not a mere feeling of pleasure, not a
mere impressed state of the heart, but it contains in itself at
the same time a power prompting to an active relation to the
beloved object. All love has for its object a something that
is good, and hence, as relating to the subject, a good (§ 51),
and it evidences the existence of this good by the outgoing
and recognizing life-movement of the subject toward it, — by
the effort of the subject toward the object in order to pre
serve or intensify its unity, its harmony therewith. Now as
all existences are created for each other and destined to a self-
harmonious life, hence love is the primitive feeling of all
rational creatures, — the direct witness of the goodness of ex
istence, an echo of that first witness of the Creator as to his
created work, and hence also the innermost vitality of the
moral life, the purpose and essence of which is in fact har
mony, or the good. Directed toward the good, and hence
the divine, love has for itself the pledge of eternity ; whereas
moral hatred, as directed against all non-good, that is, anti-
divine, has, in virtue of its negating nature, for its purpose,
the destroying of its object and of itself with it. Peace is the
goal of love and also of hatred, — is an essential phase of the
highest good itself.
SECTION XCII.
If love is the motive to all moral action, and con
sequently also the necessary presupposition thereof,
hence there must also be an ante-moral love, one that
\%per se not yet moral but which simply leads to the
moral. In man's originally-possessed, though not as
164 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. ' [§ 92.
yet developed, God-likeness, there is in fact implied
an original love antecedent to all moral volition, —
an immediate love of the created spirit for the Creator
as revealing himself to it, and for the surrounding
universe as proclaiming the Creator's love. This
direct and not morally-acquired love is, however, not
an unfreely-operating, compelling instinctive impulse,
but receives the character of moral freedom through
the simultaneously awakening consciousness of per
sonal independence and of the therein-contained love
of the person to himself, so that in virtue of this two
fold primitive love, which offers the possibility of an
antagonism as well as of a harmony, man is invited
to a free self-determination.
If the feeling of love is a directly excited one, and, as such,
the presupposition of the moral activity to which it leads, it
would seem as if moral freedom were actually precluded.
For this feeling is as yet involuntary and unfree ; aud love and
hatred produce, directly, a desire or a rejection. On the other
hand, we cannot possibly exclude love from the sphere of the
moral, and make of it a mere antecedent condition of the
same ; for according to the Christian consciousness at least,
man is morally responsible for his love and his hatred ; love is
an object of duty, and is required by Christ as the essence of
all fulfillment of the law. This seems like an irreconcilable
contradiction.
In the first place, it is unavoidably necessary to admit that
there is an ante-moral love. Brutes even have love, and are
thereby impelled to activity; also the child at its mother's
breast feels and manifests love. This is not a love springing
from free conscious volition, — not a moral love, — but a purely
natural love, which forms, however, the necessary antecedent
conditi on of all development to morality. Primitive man must
also have had such a love, inasmuch as without this a life of
God's image is not conceivable. Created in harmony with
God and with the All, he must have had also a direct feeling
of this harmony, must have felt happy in his existence and in
§ 92.] PURE ETHICS. 165
his Paradise-world ; and in this feeling of happiness he must
also have loved that whereby it was produced in him ; there
met him on every hand the image of divine love, of the har
mony of the universe, and he must have felt and loved it;
and when God revealed himself to him as the loving Father,
then must man have experienced also toward Him a feeling
of harmony and love. But all this love is as yet simply a
directly-excited one, — is not freely produced by moral activity,
and is consequently not yet a moral love, though it indeed
conducts to moral activity and thereby to a transformation of
itself into moral love. If now this first ante-moral love of
man for God and his work were the sole love really existing
in man, then evidently the action answering to it, and hence
also to the will of God, would flow out of it so immediately
and necessarily that the possibility of a contrary self-deter
mination would be scarcely conceivable, so that though in
deed moral freedom in general would not be thereby de-
*<lftroyed, yet liberty of choice would actually and essentially
be precluded. Man would not stand in free self-determina
tion between the choice of the good and the evil, but he
would be overpoweringly driven by an inner potent impulse
to a choice of the good. Now, though this would in fact
render conceivable an absolutely sinless development, still it
would render all the more inconceivable the possibility of a
determination to the sinful.
But the matter assumes a very different aspect when we
take into account the equally natural and immediate ante-
moral impulse of self-love. This must, in fact, also be re
garded as ante-moral, for the reason that it is the involuntary
natural expression of soul-life in general, and hence exists
also unconsciously among brutes. The fact that with man it
is conscious, and constitutes a phase of rational self-conscious
ness, does not make it per se moral, but simply renders it capa
ble of being formed into a moral quality. While now in the
case of the brute the unconscious self-love can never become
really evil, the self-love of man is, by virtue of the higher in
dependence of the free spirit, only in a possible harmony with
the love to God and the universe, but should come into real
harmony therewith. Self-love is per se good, — is by no means
the same as self-seeking or selfishness ; Christ himself repre-
166 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§92.
sents self-love as morally right, and as the measure for our
love to our neighbor [Matt, xxii, 39 ; Luke x, 27 ; conip. Rom.
xiii, 9; Gal. v, 14; James ii, 8; Eph. v, 28, 29, 33; 1 Sam.
xviii, I', 3] ; but the goodness of this love consists not in an
antecedently-established harmony with the love to God and
the world, but simply in its liberty to confirm this harmony
spontaneously. The love of God and the love of self are both
equally primitive, and are per se not in antagonism with each
other in the least, but yet they are different from each other
and relatively independent of each other. In this mutual inde
pendence of these two forms of love there is afforded oppor
tunity for the freedom of human choice. Man is called freely
to confirm the harmony of his self-love and his divine love,
and that too not by suppressing the one or the other, nor by
making his love of God dependent on his self-love, but in fact
by making his self-love dependent on his love of God, — by
freely subordinating it thereto. As soon as the divine com
mand was given to him, man was at once conscious that there*"
was a difference between his self-love and his love to God, but
also, at the same time, that it was his duty to develop this
difference, not into antagonism but into harmony. The one
(logically) possible mis-choice, of suppressing the per se legiti
mate self-love by disproportionate exaltation of the love to
God, was impossible in fact, inasmuch as the love to God
necessarily involves in itself all possible good, and hence also
the proper love of self, for God preserves that which He him
self ha's willed; so that consequently there remained possible
only the other mis-choice (which was therefore morally forbid
den), namely, of subordinating the love of God to self-love,
instead of preserving the latter in its true character through
its proper subordination to the former. If simply the love of
God had been primitive in man, then a choice of the ungodly
would have been impossible; if simply self-love had been
primitive in him, then a choice of the good, of submission to
the divine will, would have been equally impossible, and man
would have been in the one case irresponsible for the good,
and in the other for the evil — without desert and without
guilt. But by virtue of the fact that the love to God and the
love of self are alike primitive, as the ante-moral germ of
the moral, it follows that man is fully responsible for the con-
§ 92.] PURE ETHICS. 167
firmation or the disturbance of the harmony of this twofold
love ; for this determination was not already involved in the
constitution of man, but was proposed as a moral task to his
free will. The mere love to God would have made man good
but not free, the mere self-love would have made him seem
ingly free but not good ; the twofold love made him free for
choosing the good, but also free for the possible choice of the
evil, — which, under these circumstances, assumed, in conse
quence of the equally real original love to God, the form of
infidelity to God, of a punishable sin. The case is quite
similar with the moral culture of the child. The child, as
soon as self-conscious, has love for its mother, and also a per se
strictly legitimate love for play ; when the will of the mother
calls the child from its play, it becomes conscious of the dif
ference of the two forms of love ; it knows also that it can
prefer its love for play, and leave the will of the mother un
heeded. It must by a morally-free choice, make a decision, —
must subordinate the one love to the other ; if it chooses obe
dience, then in thus choosing, and thus only, it feels itself
truly free. If there had been no difference of a twofold love,
the child would have had no choice; it would have just as
unfreely, and without a consciousness of the good or a right
to praise, followed its mother, as, on the other supposition,
it would have unfreely and without a consciousness of the
evil or a desert of blame, preferred its play. It is only such
cases of choice, of moral self-determination, that bring the
child's morality to development and to maturity. — It would
be very erroneous to consider self-love as per se evil, and as a
natural germ of the evil; the fact is, it simply offers — not
per se, however, but in its normal difference from the love to
God — the possibility of evil, but equally so also the possibility
of moral good in general. It is only in the consciously- wrought
free subordination of self-love to the divine love, that the latter
as well as the former becomes moral. There can be no ques
tion of a " must " in the determination, whether in the one
direction or in the other, but only of a " should " and a
"should not."
168 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 93.
SECTION XCIII.
The primitive love of man to God and his works
becomes moral only, when, with consciousness and
free recognition, it is confirmed by the self-loving
spirit, and when the love to God is made to control
the love of self, that is, when this twofold love be
comes a striving of the self-love to put itself into
harmony with all love, through free self-subordina
tion to the love for God. Love as moral, and as
consciously striving toward its object, becomes dis
position. Hence for all further development of the
moral life, a moral disposition is the necessary ante
cedent condition ; and it is such in its twofold form,
as the affirming disposition of love, and, with refer
ence to evil, as the negating disposition of hatred.
It is only as disposition, but not as ante-moral nat
ural love, that love is an object of the divine law, a
moral requirement, whereas the ante-moral love is
simply an element of the good that is conferred in
creation itself. Hence, as moral motive, love is also
the basis of the moral in the fullest sense of the word,
the life-inspiring germ of all other moral activity.
By the fact that love becomes a moral duty, it does not
cease to be a moral motive. Man, as awakened to moral con
sciousness, is to have no other motive of his moral activity
than one which he has himself morally constituted, — not a
merely natural ante-moral love, but love as a disposition.
Many are led to deny that love is at all an object of the divine
law, from the simple fact that they reduce it to a mere in
voluntary feeling. Also Rothe affirms that we cannot com
mand to love, but only to learn to love. This is very nearly
a distinction without a difference ; for if we can command to
learn, and this learning has a necessary result, then evidently
in commanding the learning we also command the result.
The notion that man is per se, and irrespective of his moral
§94.] PURE ETHICS. 169
depravity, not master of his own heart, — that he cannot domi
nate his proclivities, his love or his repugnance, — simply de
stroys his moral responsibility. If man cannot control his love
and his hatred, and bring about in himself moral love, but
must allow himself to be ruled by blind inclinations, then is
he no longer a moral creature, but simply a dangerous sort of
animal. If marriages are contracted only from "irresistible
inclination" and dissolved because of "irresistible aversion,"
then they lie outside of the sphere of morality. Christian
morality does not indeed require that marriages shall continue
to exist despite the pretended "irresistible aversion;" on the
contrary, it denies fundamentally that the notion of such an
ungovernable aversion is to be admitted, inasmuch as it makes
man morally responsible for his love and his hatred. It would
not only be a monstrous but also an absurd theory of morals
which should admit, on the one hand, that we are not at all
master of our love and our aversion, — that love cannot be
commanded as a duty, — and yet, on the other hand, should
require that man should not act according to his love or aver
sion, but according to requirements of the moral law that have
no connection therewith ; he who has not love cannot practice
love without hypocrisy ; but that he has it not is his own fault.
Christian ethics requires not to proclaim love in our deeds
where there is no love, for it cannot require falseness ; but it
requires us to have love for all, and, for that reason also to
practice it. The Scriptures declare unequivocally that love,
the motive of all moral action, is also a duty commanded by
the moral law ; the law " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy
self" [Lev. xix, 18; Matt, xxii, 39; Mark xii, 31] is called a
"royal law," that is, a law that dominates all others [James
ii, 8; comp. Gal. v, 14; Col. iii, 14; I Tim. i, 5; 1 John iii, 11
s^.yiv, 1 sqq.].
SECTION XCIV.
As morality is the free fulfilling of the divine will,
hence moral love is primarily always love to God,
and the love to created things is moral only in so far
as it springs from the love to God, — considers created
things as the work of God, and loves them in him.
170 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§94.
The God-consciousness, as developed into a moral
love of God, is piety (Kvasftud) ; hence all morality
rests on piety. All non-pious love is immoral, and
hence also all love to the creature as such, taken in
itself without connection and interpenetration with
the divine love. But all love to God rests on our
consciousness of God's- love to us ; love is produced
only by love ; all moral love is, in its essence, recip
rocal love; a non-loving creature can be loved only
in so far as God's love is reflected to us from it ; and
for this very reason moral love to persons seeks in
deed their love in return, but does not need it.
As rational thought finds the unity of its thought-world
only in the thought of God, so also moral love finds its rest
and its unity only in love to God ; it is not content with the
semblance thereof but only with the truth ; and all things have
their truth only in their relation to God. As that love is
higher, truer, and mightier which loves, in a person, not
merely the earthly but also the soul, so is that love higher,
truer, and mightier which loves in man, not merely the creat
ure but also the image of God, and, through it, God himself.
Love is the more genuine the higher its object ; he who sees
in creatures the trace of God, and loves God in them, he alone
loves with the whole might of love. The proper love to the
creature rests on the consciousness that "the earth is the
Lord's and the fullness thereof" [1 Cor. x, 26] ; this does not
lower the creature in the eyes of the love, but elevates both
its worth and the love for it. Thus also Christ presents the
precept of love to God as "the first and great command
ment; " and "the second is like unto it," that is, it is already
implied in it, though it does not absolutely coincide with it, —
it is in fact the reflection of our love to God back upon our
neighbor ; our love for our neighbor is erroneous, when it does
not rest upon love to God. Hence Christ says : ' ' He that
loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me "
[Matt, x, 37 J. To the natural man this sounds hard and
severe ; but from a Christian stand-point, nay, even from a re-
§95.] -PURE ETHICS. 171
ligious stand-point in general, no other view is possible than
in fact, that a love for the creature without the higher divine
love, or with one that prevails over the latter, js sinful. By
this relation of all love to the love of God, this love is pre
served also from one-sided narrowness, — clings not, in irra
tional caprice, to isolated objects, — but extends itself to all
that is created, though indeed different degrees of such love
are possible, from the fact of the differing peculiarity of the
object and of the loving person.
This true mutual relation of our love to the creature and our
love to God, appears still more striking when we attentively
consider the relation of human love to the divine love. As
human thinking is only a reflection of the divine thought, so
also is human love only a reflection of the divine love. All
that is true and good in the copy is enkindled by the true and
the good of the prototype ; "He that loveth not knoweth not
God, for God is love" [1 John iv, 8]. Man could not love
G«d, and hence could not love morally at all, were he not
loved of God. God's love is a love of grace ; man's love is a
love of gratitude, — the answering love of a child. Love
cannot love any thing else but love [Psa. ciii, 1 sqq.; Col.
iii, 17; 1 Thess. v, 18; 1 John iv, 11, 19]. For this reason
there is no pain so great as where love remains unrequited.
But to the pious heart it is not unrequited ; such a heart finds
the love which it seeks ; Christ says : whatsoever ' ' ye have done
unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it
unto me; " and where, against the loving one, the heart of
man coldly closes itself, there the love of God comes in its
place.
SECTION XCV.
While our love to created things is either simply a
love to the inferior, or to the equal, or to the merely
relatively higher, and hence always meets its object
with a consciousness of its own independent power
and of an individual personal right, our love to God
is, as directed to One that is absolutely superior to
all that is human, always associated with a conscious
ness of our own impotency as in contrast to the in-
172 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 95.
finite holy power of the Beloved, and hence is a love
of fear. Love to God is essentially God-fearing •
there is, however, no moral fear of God without also
love to God. Mere fear alone is not a moral motive,
for only love is this.
In all love to a created object our moral action is comple-
mentive and promotive of the being and life of the same ; we
render to it in our love a real service, and obtain for our
selves a claim upon its grateful, answering love. But God's
being and life cannot be complemented and heightened by
our love ; we cannot render to him a real service for which
he would be under obligation to us [Job xli, 2; Rom. xi, 35].
Our love to God consists only with the consciousness that we
receive every thing from God, and God nothing from us, —
that our entire being and life stand absolutely in his power.
Such a consciousness includes necessarily the feeling of fear —
not fear of a mere power operating without reference to moral
action, but of a righteous God who opposes all that is unholy ;
and in this sense Christ himself makes a regard for the penal
judgments of God a motive for moral action [Matt, v, 22, 25
sqq. ; xxv, 45, 46]. Fear of God in the absence of love is, in
fact, by no means irrational ; rather is it, wherever such love
is lacking, the natural expression of the antagonism between
the unholy nature of the person and the holy God, but such
fear is not a moral motive. It presupposes the antagonism
which the moral denies; and it cannot do away with it, for it
is love alone that harmonizes. That nevertheless this slavish
fear is of moral significancy for the state of sinfulness, we
shall subsequently see. For the unfallen state, mere fear lias
neither reason nor possibility, for mere fear is, in its essence,
hatred, — hatred against the more powerful being with whom
we are not united by love.
Mere love, however, without fear, as toward God, is not
truthful, for that would be only a love of familiarity as with
our equal. He who is conscious of his moral freedom, must
also be conscious, as often as he makes use of this moral free
dom, that God opposes his holy power to its misuse. The
feeling which springs out of such a consciousness is not con-
§96.] PURE ETHICS. 173
trary to love, nor is it yet love itself, but it is genuine moral
fear. Hence this moral awe of God, the true reverence for
God, is the beginning of all wisdom and the condition of all
morality [Deut. v, 29; vi, 2; x, 20; Prov. i, 7; viii, 13; ix, 10;
xv, 33 ; xvi, 6 ; Psa. cxi, 10 ; cxii, 7 ; Job xxviii, 28 ; 2 Cor.
vii, 1]. Only those who fear the Lord trust in the Lord
[Psa. cxv, 11] ; for only the holy God gives surety for his love
and truthfulness; not to fear God involves being godless
[Prov. i, 29 ; Horn, iii, 18], and piety is synonymous with the
fear of God (0o/3of 6eov) [Acts ix, 13 ; Eph. v, 21 ; 2 Cor. vii, 1].
The reference is not to this pious dread of the holy God, but
to that mere servile fear which is at bottom hatred, when St.
John says: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casteth
out fear ; because fear hath torment (itohaaiv %«, is a feeling of
estrangement from God, of unblessedness) ; he that feareth is
not made perfect in love " [1 John iv, 18]. The true fear of
God is closely allied to the love of God [Deut. x, 12].
SECTION XCVI.
Where the love to God is true God-fearing, there
it is also a firm trusting in God. Trusting is the
reverse side of this fearing. Man-fearing is devoid
of trust ; God-fearing is per se also God-trusting. In
relation to all that is evil, I fear God, who will
bring it to naught and me with it ; in relation to all
that is good, I trust God, who will not permit me to
come to naught, but will gloriously accomplish that
which I begin in his name. God-fearing love is full
of confidence in the results of its moral strivings ; be
cause it fears God, it has no reason to fear any power
that is hostile to God. Certain of its victory, and
certain that it works in God and for God, and hence
that it accomplishes divine and imperishable work, it
becomes enthusiasm, which is the highest and truest
moral motive, and the only sufficient power where
there is involved a moral working for general in-
174 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 96.
terests that transcend all temporal individual in
terests, — where the temporal happiness of the person
must be sacrificed to a moral principle, — which, how
ever, is conceivable only where sin is dominant.
Trusting in God is faith, love, and hope at the same time ;
primarily, however, it is not a result of moral self-culture,
but it is simply the germ of that threefold life that is ante
cedent to all actual moral life. As the awakening conscious
ness of the child expresses itself in an, as yet, obscure trust
to its mother, so is it with man's first life-relation to God.
Man attains a trust not simply through faith and through love,
but faith and love are per se, and of necessity, trust already ;
and hence trust is a necessary antecedent condition of all
moral life. Trust relates to the idea of an end ; the mere de
sire of an end is not a sufficient motive to inspire moral effort
toward it ; it may be a hopeless, and hence an inactive, desire ;
doubting Peter sinks in the waves; it is only an unshaken
trust that confirms courage and awakens strength [Psa. xviii,
31 sqq. ; xxvii, 14; xxxiv, 9; xxxvii, 3 sqq. ; Ixii, 6 sqq. ;
Ixxxiv, 13; Prov. xvi, 20, and elsewhere]. — There is no en
thusiasm for evil, — at furthest only a Satanic pleasure in evil,
but this pleasure is attended with fear and malice, but not
enthusiasm. Man as sinful may err as to what is good or
evil, and he may therefore have enthusiasm for a folly, but
only from the fact that he takes it for something good and
noble. Nor can the merely individual and temporal awaken
enthusiasm; nothing but the ideal can do this, — that which
is, or is conceived of as, absolutely valid, as eternal truth,
and hence of divine significancy, in a word that in the victory
and permanent endurance of which the person has entire con
fidence. For that which is merely individual or useful I
may indeed have energy or passion, but not enthusiasm.
Only the absolutely good, the divine, is free from all doubt.
Doubt is death to enthusiasm ; without faith it is not possible
merally to battle for the divine. Without enthusiasm there
can be but a cold, calculating working for temporal ends, but
no effort for the divine and eternal ;' hence whatever is not of
faith is sin, for it is non-moral, whereas man ought constantly
to be moral. The apostles had indeed, during Christ's earthly
§ 97.] PURE ETHICS. 175
life, a warm love for their Master, so that they were ready
even to die with him [John xi, 16J, but they had enthusiasm
only after the pouring out of the Holy Ghost.
SECTION XCVH.
As love springs from the consciousness of the har
mony of the person with his object, and as the feel
ing of such a harmony is the feeling of happiness,
hence all love is per se also happiness, and its striving
is necessarily a striving for happiness. As, however,
love does not seek its own, but finds its bliss alone in
that of the beloved, it is clear that this striving for
happiness, as based on moral love, is in nowise self-
seeking and narrow-hearted, but, on the contrary, a
proper motive of moral activity, — only, however, in
so far as it is in unison with the right love, and does
not appear as something different from it, — not as
the first and fundamental element, but only as a de
rived one ; but it becomes an immoral motive in so
far as it is an expression of mere self-love (Eude-
monism). — The tendency to the good, which is pro
duced by moral activity, becomes in turn itself a
higher motive to the moral.
The question as to the morality of happiness-seeking as a
moral motive, cannot be answered without a more definite
characterization. The " eudemonistic " view proper, that
of the Epicureans, is evidently immoral, as it rests on mere
self-love. Heathen ethics could oppose to this self-seeking
happiness-principle nothing other than the notion that virtue
should be sought after for its own sake. If there was here a
seeming subordinating of the person to a general moral idea,
still, because of the inner untruthf ulness of the position, it could
not possibly be otherwise than that in fact, even in the strictest
Stoicism, the mere proud self-consciousness of the individual
should be, after all, the influencing motive proper. The
thought of love as the true moral motive was entirely wanting
176 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 97.
to heathen ethics, — is peculiar to Christianity. The Christian
idea of love harmonizes the legitimate self-love with submis
sion to the moral law. In loving God, man loves also himself
as a child of God, and in fulfilling his duty he at the same
time realizes his happiness. The love to God and to His
creatures is, on the pne hand, a feeling of happiness, and, on
the other, a motive to moral activity. The old controversy
about 'the happiness-principle, which has in recent times been
revived, especially by the school of Kant, receives its proper
splution only in the Christian view, namely, in that, while
Christianity recognizes in the proper seeking for happiness a
strictly moral motive, it also exalts the character of this seek
ing by the love in which alone it bases it. It is therefore a
very one-sided illiberality in Rationalists to reproach Old
Testament ethic* with "Eudemonism." It is true, the Old
Testament recognizes the seeking after happiness as a proper
motive in the fulfilling of the law: ''That it may go well with
thee and with thy children after thee, and that thou mayest
prolong thy days upon the earth [Deut. iv, 40; Exod. xx, 12;
Deut. v, 16; xxix, 33; Psa. xxxvii, 37; cxxii, 6, etc.]; the
formula "Blessed is he that," etc., [Psa. i, 1 ; ii, 12; xxxiv, 8;
xl, 4, etc.] and other similar ones, are very frequently given as
an encouragement to moral obedience ; but also Christ himself
and the apostles expressly present such a motive: "Do this
and thou shalt live " [Luke x, 28 ; comp. Matt, xix, 16, 17,
28, 29 ; vi, 19, 20 ; Mark x, 21 ; Luke xii, 33 ; John iii, 36 ;
Eph. vi, 3; Rom. ii, 7; 1 Tim. iv, 88; vi, 19]; the "crown"
of life is promised as a reward to fidelity [1 Cor. ix, 25;
2 Tim. iv, 8 ; 1 Peter v, 4 ; James i, 12 ; Rev. ii, 10] ; but nei
ther the Old nor the New Testament separate this striving
for happiness from the love to God and our neighbor in which,
in fact, both Covenants find the true motive to moral action.
There is, in reality, no essential antagonism between love and
the striving after happiness; but the latter is directly implied
in the former, and is, in the nature of the case, inseparable
from it. Christianity knows no other happiness than love to
God in the consciousness of being loved by him.
All moral activity has necessarily a permanent result in the
person himself; it makes the moral his possession and property,
— forms more and more his moral character, and hence creates a
§97.] PUKE ETHICS. 177
tendency to, and a readiness in, moral acting. 1 his moral pos
session, as a result of moral activity — virtue— becomes in turn
itself, as an active power, a motive force to moral life, so that
by his moral activity man constantly increases the actuating
power of the same. Of this readiness or skill in moral acting
we will have occasion to speak hereafter ; we merely remark
here, that by virtue of acting morally the originally as yet
undetermined freedom of choice receives a determined char
acter, — takes up into itself the morally good as such. The
moral develops itself into a constantly increasing power, —
renews itself on a progressively larger scale in the organic
circulation of life. The good becomes to the moral man, as
it were, a second nature, which, in turn, works out of itself
by virtue of its own power ; it is no longer simply something
objective to him, nor merely a natural quality conferred upon
him, but it is a vital possession, and hence an actuating power
within him.
VOL. 11—13
178 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§98.
CHAPTER V.
THE MORAL ACTIVITY.
SECTION XCV1II.
LOVE works the accomplishment of the lovingly-
willed end ; the moral motive and the accomplishing
of the end belong, therefore, morally, inseparably
together. The moral element lies neither exclu
sively in the motive, nor exclusively in the action ;
neither exclusively in the intention or end, nor
exclusively in the means to the end, but in the
unity of both. A good end does not sanctity the
means, nor do good means sanctify the end, but a
good end is accomplished morally only by good
means ; an end which actually can be realized by
immoral means, is itself immoral.
As the moral is a free realizing of a rational end, the ques
tion naturally rises, wherein the moral element properly lies,
namely, whether in the end and in the motive? or in the means
to the end, that is, in the acts that lead to the realization of
the end? or whether in both at the same time, — that is,
whether we are to judge of an act exclusively from the inten
tion, or exclusively from the action itself, or in fact from both
together? The first of these queries has been 3 answered
affirmatively by the Jesuits — though this is not peculiar to
them, but is involved more or less in all perverted moralizing,
especially in that of worldly society at large; outside of the
sphere of Christian earnestness there prevails every-where in
fact a tendency to distinguish between the morality of the end
and that of the means.
§98.] PURE ETHICS. 179
From the very idea of the moral it follows necessarily that
the conscious end, and hence the intention, occupies with
good right the chief place in determining the moral judg
ment, and that consequently only that action can be good
which aims at a good end — one in harmony with the moral
order of the world. Whatever accomplishes such an end must
consequently be in harmony with the moral order of the
world, and hence be itself good; when therefore the axiom:
"The end sanctifies the means" is understood to mean "that
the means which answer to a really good end are necessarily
also good," then it is entirely unobjectionable; it becomes
false only when either the end is only seemingly good, or the
means only seemingly appropriate, or where it is assumed that
the means, that is, the actions, are per se morally indifferent,
and receive a moral character only from the intention. As,
however, all free action falls within the sphere of the moral
order of the world, and as the reality that is produced by this
action is either in harmony or in disharmony with this order,
hence also the action, per se and irrespectively of its end, is
either good or bad, — though indeed, in order to its full moral
appreciation, its end also must be taken into the account. He
who sets a house on fire from negligence may have had no
evil intention, but he is punished nevertheless, and justly so,
for his action was per se evil, and might have been avoided
by him. If we suppose instead of an absolutely good end,
that is, such a one as is a part of the highest good, simply
particular ends, the goodness of which consists only in their
subordination to the order of the whole, then the axiom:
"The end sanctifies the means," is false, in so far as the end
or means do not consist with the order of the whole. He
who burns down a house in order to drive the rats out of it
attains indeed his end, but at the same time he destroys the
super-ordinate end of the house. The question becomes diffi
cult only when bearing upon moral action in a sinful world, in
which evil, and hence the infliction of evils for punishment,
for discipline and defense, has a legitimate place. But of this
we can only speak further on.
Moral action, as flowing from love, may be considered
from two points of view: first, in itself, according to its
inner differences, that is, moral action as such; secondly,
180 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§99.
in relation to the different moral objects in virtue of the
differences of which the moral action itself assumes a differ
ent form.
SUBDIVISION FIRST.
THE MORAL ACTIVITY PER BE IN ITS INNER
DIFFERENCES.
SECTION XCIX.
As moral action always seeks to effect a harmony
between the acting person and the moral object,
hence it stands in relation, on the one hand, to the
former as its starting-point, and, on the other, to the
latter as the goal aimed at by the life-movement.
This harmony can consequently be effected in a two
fold manner, — either in that the object becomes for the
subject, or the subject for the object, that is, either
by appropriation or by formation. As, however,
every entity, in so far as it is good, has a right in and
of itself, hence it has such a right also as bearing
upon the morally active person, so that neither the
appropriating nor the forming is without some degree
of limitation, but both must respect this right of the
object. The two forms of moral action have there
fore, as a necessary limit, a third form of moral bear
ing, namely, a bearing by which the moral object is
preserved in its rights, — moral sparing.
This third form of the moral bearing, which, as an activity
of the will, has of course a moral character, has been very
largely ignored in ethics, or at least left in the back-ground,
and it is even severely criticised in its defenders, and yet it is
a sphere of very essential duties, duties which can be classed
into other spheres only by manifest violence, and which yet
consist, in fact, neither in appropriation nor in formation.
§99.] PURE ETHICS. 181
When I check my foot in order not wantonly to crush an ant
that is crossing my path, this is in fact a moral self-limitation,
but it cannot be properly classed as moral forming, seeing
that the end of this action is very evidently the to-be-spared
animal, and not the acting person. But every moral action
without exception is also a moral self-forming, a self-cultivat
ing, without, however, that this self-culture should always
appear as the end proper. Without the proper respecting of
the duty of sparing, appropriation and formation would be
come violence. But the moral motive of all right action,
namely, love, implies in its very nature also the exercising of
preservative sparing ; man cannot love an object, and yet not
seek to preserve it in the beloved peculiarity of its being.
Sparing is not of a mere negative character, a mere limiting of
another action,, but it is essentially different from all other
action ; it is of a negative character only in form but not in
contents. When I do not severely reproach a person who is
inwardly and deeply ashamed and humiliated because of
his sin, but tenderly spare him, this is not a mere non-doing
of that which I might do, not a mere limiting of my punitive
activity, but it is the very opposite of this. There results
here from the moral motive, that is, love, not a positive act
ing upon the other, but a restraining of such action ; and if I
thereby heap coals of fire upon the head of an enemy, and
thus profit him morally, still this is not a real influential form
ing on my part, but a giving place for the moral self-forming
of the other; my sparing procedure here is indeed mediately
a forming, as, on the other hand, it is also a self-mastering ;
per se however, it is an action different from both. When, in
the sphere of the freedom of rational creatures, God restrains
his immediate action in order to preserve them in their free-
dora, — when God spared Cain, and, after the flood, promised
henceforth to spare living creatures *as a whole [Gen. iv, 15 ;
viii, 21 ; ix, 11 sqq.],— this is simply a divine example of moral
sparing. To spare is often more difficult morally than to
appropriate or to influence, for in the latter cases the person
has a lively consciousness of self, and stands forth promi
nently with his own rights and his enjoyment of activity ;
but, in sparing, it is the right of the object that stands in the
foreground, and the actor must recognize and respect this
182 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§100.
right, and must morally overcome his personal will and his
pleasure in self-assertion. Sparing is the preservative, the
"conservative," phase of the moral life, and its carrying-out
presupposes greater moral maturity than the exercise of the
appropriating or forming activities; for the youthful zeal of
the morally immature spirit, its practice is exceedingly diffi
cult ; not to crush the bruised reed, nor to quench the smok
ing wick [Matt, xii, 20], is more difficult, and involves a
higher moral wisdom, than to destroy or to create anew. — As
the sparing procedure is logically the most immediate course
of conduct, and rather a withholding than an express acting,
hence it is more appropriate to treat of it first.
I. MORAL SPARING.
SECTION C.
Moral sparing is a self-limiting of personal action
in the interest of the rights of the object j the latter is
neither appropriated nor formed by the person,
but simply let alone in its peculiar being and nature.
The duty of sparing rests upon the right of every
natural or spiritual and historical entity to its exist
ence and its peculiarity, in so far as these are good,
and hence upon love to the object as being good, —
consequently, in the tinal instance, upon a pious
world theory, upon love to God. The entity is
spared because it bears in itself the impress of the
Eternal, — is an expression of the will of God ; hence
sparing is moral only in so far as it relates to the
good and the divine in existence, and not to that
which "by virtue of its ungodly nature should be an
object of moral hatred. — The higher the perfection
of an object, so much the higher is also its right to
moral sparing; the less the perfection, the more the
object falls within the sphere of appropriation and
§ 100-1 PURE ETHICS. 183
formation. The highest object of moral sparing
among created things is man, and whatever exists
through and for him ; but, above all, his moral per
sonality itself, and hence alsx> his honor. God him
self cannot indeed be an object of moral sparing in
the strict sense of the word, but he is such, however,
in the forms of his revelation in time, and in all that
symbolically represents him.
An indiscriminate sparing would be simply spiritual and
moral sloth or indifference, and hence immoral. The sparing
of the anti-godly is a sinning against God, is the withholding
of moral love. An evil existence has indeed also, in so far as
any good still inheres in it, a right to be spared, — only, how
ever, in that which it has of good. The right to be spared is
not, of course, in the case of finite 'existences, of an unlimited
and unconditional character, and in the case of nature-objects
it is much more limited than with personal beings, though
indeed it never sinks entirely to zero. It is true, nature is
destined to service under the dominion of the rational spirit,
and, in so far as it reaches this destination, man has in fact a
right to pass beyond the limits of mere sparing restraint, and
actively to lay hold on the very existence of nature, trans*
forming and appropriating it. Where the right of the per
sonal spirit is not recognized, where God is conceived of as a
mere nature-entity, there pious morality manifests itself in a
wide-reaching sparing of natural objects, far beyond the
measure of what is required of us ; so is it with the Brahmins
and the Buddhists ; and, especially in the case of the former,
this over-delicate sparing of natural objects is associated with
a cruel ?m-sparingness toward themselves.
As the duty of sparing rests on the right of each particular
being to its own peculiarity, hence this duty as well as this
right rise in scope in proportion to the degree of the indi
vidual perfection. That which is absolutely perfect bears
the character of eternity and unchangeableness, and though
it may indeed be spiritually appropriated, yet it cannot in any
respect be formed or changed. In the process of education,
the dictating influence upon the child falls into the back-
184 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 100.
ground in proportion as the child grows toward moral ma
turity. Lifeless matter has no claim to sparing. When the
Brahmin does not allow himself causelessly to crush the least
earth-clod, this is simply because he regards it as the sacred
body of Brahma. Plants Imve a better claim to be spared
than inorganic objects, and the more so the higher their or
ganization, and especially as they stand in a closer relation to
man ; to injure fruit-trees and other edible vegetation, without
cause, is regarded as sinful even by uncultured tribes. The
more an object enters into the sphere of man's spiritual life,
the more it bears the impress of the spirit, constituting, as
it were, a sort of larger corporeality for man, so much the
higher is its claim upon sparing. This is especially the case
with the human body itself, as the organ of the spirit, as a
" temple of the Holy Ghost; " in the next rank stand all such
natural objects as hold a relation to the spiritual life, and
which are mementos of important events and of spiritual
effort in general, — every thing, in fine, that has been actually
produced by the human spirit, and the more so in proportion
as it is of a spiritualized character, — and hence, especially,
all products of industry and art. But the highest right to
sparing is possessed by the personal spirit itself in its personal
peculiarity; to assail the honor of another is to wound his
moral being; the higher the moral culture and maturity of a
person, the higher is also his right to moral sparing ; by sin
this right is necessarily largely forfeited.
While the heathen idol falls, of course, within the sphere of
human sparing, the eternal and almighty God stands beyond
the scope of this activity. Nevertheless there are sacred
duties which express, in a certain sense, a sparing of the di
vine ; the name of God and his honor are to be held sacred ;
and whatever is a symbol of the divine, or is a reminder of
God's presence, has an especial claim to moral sparing ; even
uncultured tribes practice a reverential sparing in regard to
all that is sacred or stands in relation to the divine in contra
distinction to the worldly and the profane. From the simple
fact of the sparing of whatever stands in real, or even in sym
bolical, relation to God, it is very evident, of how great .signiti-
cancy is piety for morality. The pious mind finds God's
being and providence in all things and in all life, and what-
§ 100.] PURE ETHICS. 185
ever is not hostile to God is, for it, sacred and an object of
pious sparing. The higher the piety of the person, so much
the higher becomes the worth, and hence also the right, of all
existence, in so far as this existence is good. He who is im
pious has no reverence for created things, — no tenderness
toward them. Not to spare that which has a right to sparing,
is moral rudeness. The immoral and the impious are uniform
ly rude and coarse ; they have indeed fear but no awe.
Sparing is, as a non-doing, only then moral when it is a
conscious and freely-willed withholding of a real out-going
action, that is, when it is an inner activity, a moral self-con
trolling out of respect for another's right, and when it is in
real harmony with moral forming and appropriating, so as not
in any manner to interfere therewith, — that is, when it is the
virtualizing of the real rights of the moral object. The form-
able or cultivable object has, however, just as good a right to
be formed as it has to be spared. In so far as sparing is a
mere non-influencing of the objective entity, it is not yet
moral, and may even also be evil. The spiritually indolent
declines even this form of activity, not, however, from love
to the object, but from mere selfishness. Only that sparing
is morally good which rests on love to the object, and which
therefore implies a conscious self-limitation and self-controll
ing, and which is, consequently, only in outer form, but not
in inner essence, a mere non-doing ; mere non-doing would be
per se sinful, inasmuch as the moral life must always be active,
and it is only the seeming non-doing which, however, is an
inner-doing, that can be moral. True moral sparing is, in re
lation to beings that are formable and in need of formation,
uniformly also a formative influence, namely, in that it gives
proper play for legitimate self-forming on the part of the ob
ject. A tyrannical education that extends its tutorial dicta
tion into all the minute details, produces not a moral char
acter but only servile-mindedness. All right education must
also practice, in the interest of the training of moral freedom,
a wise sparing, — must allow the child the possibility of de
termining itself independently, and of thereby maturing itself
toward moral freedom. As the sparing of a growing plant is
at the same time also a furthering of it, so also, and even in a
higher degree, is this true of sparing as exercised toward ra-
186 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 101.
tional beings ; the pardoning of an offense exercises frequently
a very fruitful influence on the moral development of him
who is pardoned.
II. MORAL APPROPRIATING.
SECTION CI.
In the appropriating activity man effects his unity
with the objective entity, by taking it up into him
self, — by uniting it with himself, by making it an
element of his own nature. This moral activity dif
fers both in regard to what element of the object is
appropriated by the actor, and in regard to how this
takes piace.
(a) According to what element of the object is
appropriated, the appropriating is either natural or
spiritual; the latter is the more comprehensive, and
extends itself to all objective existence, — also to
God. — Natural appropriation relates as well to the
existence and preservation of the individual person
as tothe existence and preservation of the species, and
is the necessary condition of both. In both respects,
therefore, man is bound to nature and stimulated by
natural instinct, and although in this respect he is
freer than the brute, and all the freer the higher his
personality is developed, nevertheless in respect to the
preservation of the existence of the subject, this free
dom is still always of a limited character, and the
law of nature is, in many respects, stronger than the
will, though, however, not so potent as to force the
will to the immoral.
All natural existence is at the same time also of spiritual
significance, — is a realized thought, the expression of an idea.
But as, on the other hand, not every spiritual entity is con-
§ 102.] PURE ETHICS. 187
nected with a natural one, hence spiritual appropriating is of
greater compass and higher significancy than the merely nat
ural. The higher moral worth of the former appears also
from this, that it preserves the objective existence in its
reality, whereas natural appropriation more or less destroys
it. With the increase of moral and spiritual growth, natural
appropriation constantly gives place more and more to the
spiritual; with the child the former predominates; but what
is normal in the child becomes immoral in mature age.
In natural appropriation there is manifested a real and
normal limitation of free self-determination. When hunger
predominates, the spiritual forces subside, and at last it be
comes even mightier than the free determinations of the will.
Nevertheless this power of nature over the will is neither
unlimited nor absolutely definitive, but the moral will is
capable of asserting its autonomy against it. It may indeed
enfeeble the bodily force and therewith also the spiritual,
but it cannot absolutely determine the will. Christ cried out
indeed on the cross: "I thirst;" but when hungering in the
desert he resisted the temptation. The fact that from grief or
despair persons have starved themselves to death, proves at
least that the will is capable of being stronger than nature,
even under its most overpowering phases. He who in the last
desperation of famine lays hold on human life to satiate his
hunger [Lev. xxvi, 29] commits a crime even in the eyes of
human law, and the violence of hunger forms no excuse.
That also in this respect a great difference is to be made be
tween man as unfallen and man as enslaved to sin, we have
already observed.
SECTION Oil.
Natural appropriating per se is not yet a moral
activity, but it is extra-moral, and therefore when it
appears in and of itself as the substance and chief-end
of life, it is immoral. It becomes morally good only
when it is the expression of an under-lying spiritual
appropriating, that is, when it does not rest on mere
sensuous impulse, but on conscious love, not so much
to the sensuous object per se as rather to God who
188 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 102.
lovingly gives it to us. This implies further that,
with a moral person, the natural appropriating should
never predominate over the spiritual, — that not the
attendant sensuous enjoyment per se should be re
garded as the essential and proper object of effort,
but rather the rational God-willed end of the sensu
ous, so that consequently the sensuous enjoyment
should be aimed at only in so far as the moral pur
pose admits of it.
There is per se forbidden to man, irrespective of his sinful-
ness, no natural temperate sensuous appropriating; this is
plainly seen in the account of Paradise and in the example
and deed of Christ at the wedding of Cana. Thankfulness
to God sanctifies even the sensuous appropriation of his gifts
[1 Tim. iv, 3-5]. The Christian custom of saying grace at
meals, after the example of Christ [Matt, xiv, 19; xv, 36],
which prevailed also generally in the ancient church [Acts
xxvii, 35; Tert. Apol., 39], has a high moral significancy; it
rescues the natural enjoyment from the stage of mere sensu-
ousness, — elevates it into the sphere of the moral. As even
in >the opinion of worldly society the significancy of social
repasts consists not in the sensuous enjoyment, but in the in
tellectual entertainment and interchange of sentiment, so
according to Christian morals the significancy of all sensuous
appropriation consists in its relation to God, — in the appro
priating of the divine in and through the bread and wine of
daily food. " Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatso
ever ye do, do all to the glory of God " [1 Cor. x, 30, 31].
But man does not give God the glory when he forgets Him
and finds pleasure merely in the sensuous. God neither for
bids nor begrudges to man the enjoyment of the sensuous, but
he forbids a beastly merging of one's self into it. He who
forgets the Giver in the gift sinks below the sphere of the
moral and even of the human. The world at large is not
fond of grace-saying, and yet even the heathen made his
libations to the gods at his repasts. Even Schleiermacher
(Ohristl. Sitte, Bcil., p. 33) found in the just-cited words of
Paul simply an assumption of the animal element — food-
§ 102.] PURE ETHICS. 189
taking — "into the sphere of social pleasure," "in order to
chasten mere sensuous desire," and he is unable to discover
any significancy in the saying of grace.
The observing of moderation in natural appropriation, the re
garding it as a mere means to the rational end of preserving
the individual as well as the species, is not merely a moral
preserving of the person but also of the object, — is a doing of
justice toward the object. He who is temperate simply, e. g.,
in order not to injure his health, is not yet moral, but only
self-seeking. Appropriation finds its measure in the moral
duty of sparing. All natural appropriating is more or less a
destroying of the objective entity ; and, as the latter has per se
a right to sparing, it follows that the limit of appropriation
is not a merely subjective one. The nightingale-tongue pies
of the Roman epicures are not mentioned with detestation
simply because they are a mere immoderation, but because
they involved an injustice against the right of nature to be
spared. And many modern table-luxuries are not of a much
more innocent character.
In sexual appropriation the moral is conditioned not merely,
as in the use of natural objects, on thankful love to God as the
giver, but — inasmuch as the object appropriated is itself a
moral personality — also on personal love to the same. With
out this love the person of the object would be treated as a
mere impersonality, as a mere nature-object, and its validity
as a personal moral spirit ignored. Upon this moral recog
nition of the personality Scripture lays great emphasis.
"Adam knew Eve, his wife;" the same expression OfT^)
is very frequently used of wedlock communion, also on the
part of the woman [Gen. xix, 8; Num. xxxi, 17]. This is
usually explained as a mere euphemism, but it is in fact the
appropriate expression to the essence of the matter. The
persons mutually recognize each other as personalities bound
to each other in full reciprocal possession, — recognize, each,
himself in the other and the other in himself — recognize the
complete belonging of each to the other in virtue of a mutual
love which precludes every thing that is strange or disunit
ing, so that consequently the two constitute truly one soul and
one flesh. The expression to "know," to recognize, refers
therefore primarily solely to legitimate wedlock cohabitation,
190 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 103-
and was applied only subsequently and improperly also to
sinful.
Sexual appropriation also is in part a destruction, a despoil
ing of the person, which finds a compensation only in the fact
that the one person belongs to the other as an inalienable pos
session — that both persons are united to an indissoluble life in
common. Hence the commerce of the sexes without marriage
is self-profanation ; and virginity is esteemed among all, not
absolutely barbarous nations as an inviolable treasure to which
only that one has a right who is united in his whole person
ality to the person of the virgin. And even within the limits
of marriage each party has a right to sparing, and should not
be degraded into a mere object of sensuous pleasure ; also here
there is a measure that is conditioned on the end, and the
transgressing of which is a dishonoring, a degrading, of the
consort.
SECTION CIII.
2. — Spiritual appropriation relates to all objective
existence, nature included, and takes up the spiritual
contents thereof into the being of the self-conscious
subject, — makes it its personal possession. The moral
subject enlarges thus its own spiritual being, — re
ceives the universe as well as God into itself, — forms
for itself an inner world which, as a copy of the real
world, realizes under its subjective phase the moral
end, namely, the effecting of the harmony of exist
ence.
In spiritual appropriation, as the far richer field of this
activity, the appropriated object is in no wise destroyed, but
on the contrary preserved, nay, brought to its higher truth,
namely, in that its spiritual contents not only exist per se, but
also exist jfor the spirit, and have now in the spirit a continued
existence even after the object itself outwardly perishes.
That which has become a part of history and science has
thereby attained to imperishableness. That which externally
perishes, the natural existence, is the inferior, the less essen
tial ; that which is capable of becoming a possession of the
§104.] PURE ETHICS. 191
immortal spirit is, in fact, the higher, — the essence, the idea,
the spiritual contents of existence. In virtue of their spirit
ual contents even natural objects receive a sort of immortality
by being appropriated by the rational spirit ; in a still higher
degree is this true of the facts of history. Spiritual appro
priation is related to natural appropriation as the spirit to the
body ; the latter must therefore always be subordinate to the
former, — must absolutely serve it. — As all nature is created
not only by spirit but also/or spirit, and as whatever is spirit
ually created is likewise for the spirit, hence it is but justice
to both natural and historical existence, — but a simple right
of the same upon the rational spirit, — that it be appropriated
by the latter, and it is a perfectly moral requirement that
spiritual appropriating be made an essential part of the moral
activity. Only savages know nothing of history, of the per
manent preservation of the transitory. The preservation of
that which belongs to the spirit, that which has been ap
propriated by it, is the earliest evidence of the spiritual, the
historical character of a people, — of human culture. The
most ancient historical nations of heathendom, the Chinese
and the Egyptians, place their chief interest in the preserving
of transpired events; the Egyptians sought to rescue from
perishing even the bodies of men, as the tabernacles of the
spirit, — sought to appropriate them to history. The art of
writing has as its original purpose, not mutual personal inter
course, but history, — was committed not to perishable leaves
but to the rock ; and also the most ancient products of archi-
tectural skill were consecrated, not to purposes of dwellings,
but to purposes of history.
SECTION CIV.
(i) The difference of spiritual appropriation in re-
Bpect to how it takes place, appears, on the one hand,
in this, that the appropriating person is active as a
rational spirit in general, — as at one with all other
rational spirits, and hence in such a manner as that
the appropriation might be made in like manner by
any other spirit, — general appropriation ; and, on the
other, in this, that the person is active as a single
192 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 104.
personality for "himself, — appropriates the object to
himself as an individual, makes it his exclusive pos
session, — particular appropriation..- — (1) General (uni
versal) appropriation is cognizing or learning. The
object is indeed received by the individual spirit and
into it, not, however, as its exclusive possession ; on
the contrary, in this receiving, the person divests
himself at the same time of his isolated character, —
has the appropriated not as a mere particular posses
sion for himself, but as a possession of the rational
spirit in general, — as universally-valid. The so ap
propriated spiritual possession is truth- now truth
has the destination and tendency to become a com
mon possession. Learning or cognizing is therefore
moral : (a) in that it seeks to appropriate to itself the
real spiritual contents of existence, that is, seeks after
truth ; (b) in that it makes of truth, not a personal
isolated enjoyment, but strives to communicate it to
others.
All learning is spiritual appropriating, but not all spiritual
appropriating is general; we here consider spiritual appropri
ation under another phase than in the preceding section.
Where the love of sensuous enjoyment prevails to a sinful
extent, there the love of truth declines. The desire of knowl
edge is a characteristic of the moral spirit. Man, as called to
dominion over nature, is also called to the spiritual appropri
ating of the same, and of all existence. The striving after
truth is a seal of man's God-likeness. Even as to God every
thing is open, and all truth is known, so also is man only then
truly a spirit when he strives after truth and seeks cognosci-
tively to appropriate to himself all things. This is a legitimate
striving after possession, — after the possession of an inner
world, a true copy of the real one ; and it is among the most
essential sources of the bliss of the perfected, that they know
the truth and constantly appropriate to themselves cognosci-
tively more of it. The acquiring of the truth is a becoming
§ 104.] PURE ETHICS. 193
free from the limits of a merely individual existence, — a di
vesting ourselves of the mere state of nature, an assuming of
a more general character, an entering into the life and essence
of the self-concordant All, an appropriating of the objective
outgoings of spirit in general. "Ye shall know the truth
and the truth shall make you free," says Christ to such as
shall continue in his word [John viii, 32]. Even as light
breaks down the isolation of individual being, and throws up
a bridge to that which is outwardly separated from it, thus
causing all separate objects to exist in some sort for each
other, so the knowledge of truth frees man from the bonds of
a merely isolated being, opens for him the totality of exist
ence as his life-sphere, — throws a unifying bond around deity
and the totality of his creatures. As no life of the earth is
without light, so also is there no life of the spirit without the
knowledge of truth ; and it is not this or that truth that makes
man free, rational, and blessed, but the truth ; and the Spirit
of the Lord strives to lead his disciples into all truth. Who
ever seeks to set limits to the moral thirst for truth, whoever
declares any truth as indifferent or unworthy of effort, he re
sists the outgoings of the spirit of truth. Moreover, there is
no particular truth which stands isolated and for itself, and
does not first receive its validity from the truth which springs
from the eternal Spirit of God ; and he who thinks to satisfy
the thirst of the soul for truth with certain separate morsels
of truths from the sphere of the finite and transitory, knows
not the truth but only falsehood.
All true knowing is of such a nature that every other rational
spirit can and must know in precisely the same manner, and
hence has a significance beyond the possession of the indi
vidual, — is general appropriation. Hence, as moral, it is also
directly connected with a tendency to make that which is
appropriated by the individual person a general possession of
all rational beings. The moral man cannot wish to retain the
truth for himself alone, but the truth which has become his
possession impels him, by virtue of its general character, free
ly to communicate it to others [Luke ii, 17; 1 John i, 1 sqq.~\.
The duty of secret-keeping has a validity and significancy
only on the supposition of predominant sinfuluess, — is incon
ceivable save on the presupposition of sin ; and the weakness
VOL. 11—14
19-i CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§105.
of being unable to keep a secret springs, in some sort at least,
from a correct feeling of that which ought to be. Good-
hearted persons are usually poor secret-keepers ; and for inno
cence there is no secret. The truth, like light, cannot hide
itself; it is only with designing effort that either can be con
cealed. Truth, morally considered, belongs not to the mere
understanding but to the heart ; and with that of which the
heart is full, the mouth overflows [Luke vi, 45]. He to whom
the truth belongs, belongs also himself to the truth, — must
also T)ear witness of the truth. ' ' We cannot but speak the
things which we have seen and heard," said Peter and John
in the presence of the chief council [Acts iv, 20], and they
only express the inner moral necessity of such a witnessing of
obtained truth. Whoever feels nothing of such an inner im
pulsion to witnessing either possesses not the truth, or the
truth possesses not him. With the witnessing of the truth it
is in some sense as it is with the first ante-moral love ; the
person may indeed resist the inner impulse, but if he does not
do so then his immediate love of the truth will spontaneously
induce him to witness for it without any need of a special
effort of the will. "Ye also will bear witness (as well as
the Holy Ghost), because ye have been with me from the be
ginning, " says the Lord to his disciples [John xv, 27] ; this is
not an injunction but a promise ; they will not be able to do
otherwise; the truth is stronger than the command. Hence
he who is of the truth needs no longer the law; for the truth
impels him to bear witness of itself through his life.
SECTION CV.
(2). Particular (individual) appropriating is enjoy
ing. Here the object exists solely for me in so far as
I am an individual being, — becomes my special pos
session. In enjoyment I do not, as in cognizing, have
the object purely as such, but I have it as it stands in
accord with my peculiarity, as it has become an ele
ment of my own being. In enjoyment I have, there
fore, always also myself as in some way affected by
the object ; hence the sphere of enjoyment is essen-
§ 105.] PURE ETHICS. 195
tially feeling, namely, the feeling of pleasure. En
joyment is either sensuous or spiritual ; the former
is never moral per se, but only with and in the latter.
— As the personal spirit has an independent right in
and of itself, and as true enjoyment rests on love to
the object, and consequently is a visualization of
this love, hence enjoyment is also a moral right, and
therefore also relatively a duty. The morality of
enjoyment consists primarily in a conscious and com
plete subordinating of merely sensuous enjoyment to
spiritual ; and furthermore in the fact that it be al
ways a pure expression of moral love, and hence also
of thankfulness, and that it rest on joy in God, — that
it stand in proper harmony with the formative activi
ty ; and also in the fact that, by virtue of the agree
able feeling manifested in it, it awake also commu
nicative love, namely, the tendency to extend the
enjoyment to others. — The highest enjoyment consists
in the consciousness of the filial relation to God, that
is, in the perfect appropriation of life-communion with
God ; and in fact to the child of God, only that is a
real enjoyment, in which also God has pleasure. In
association with this enjoyment of the filial relation
to God, every other enjoyment is sanctified.
In learning, or cognizing, I throw into the back-ground rny
isolated individuality, — let the truth, as general, rule over
me ; my mere isolated being has no validity ; in enjoying, on
the contrary, I come with my separate individuality into the
fore-ground ; the object per se has no validity ; in learning I
have myself only as a member of the whole, but in enjoying. I
have myself as an individuality distinct from the whole.
Hence enjoyment, as of such and such a form, is not com
municable ; de gustibus non est disputandum. Whatever one
rational person cognizes as true, that must be cognized by all
as true ; but that which is an enjoyment for one is not necea-
196 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 105.
sarily such for another. All enjoyment is love, and the highest
earthly love is conjugal and maternal love ; but this love which
is at the same time the highest earthly enjoyment, belongs to
this or that particular person, — is by no means personally-
communicable ; a child can be loved by no one else as it is by
its mother. As knowledge naturally impels to communica
tion, so enjoyment, on the contrary, impels rather to isolation ;
the pleasure-seeker would fain have every thing for himself;
if he seeks society, it is only in so far as society becomes to
him an object of enjoyment. Enjoyment readily gives rise to
jealousy, whereas knowledge tends to a liberal imparting of
the acquired truth ; even maternal love knows jealousy.
Christian morality begrudges not enjoyment to man, not
even the sensuous, for "the earth is the Lord's and the full
ness thereof" [1 Cor. x, 6; Psa. xxiv, 1; cornp. Gen. ii, 9].
-The pious reference of all enjoyment to God as the Giver of
all good, and thankful love to him, render even sensuous
enjoyment rioral, in so far as it is sought in the divinely-or
dained manner, — spiritualize it, in fact, by the heart-disposi
tion of the subject, and place the joy proper in the spiritual
associations of the sensuous. So soon as sensuous enjoyment
is sought purely for itself, apart from the spiritual and from
love to God, it becomes at once immoral, seeing that it then
interrupts (§ 102) the spiritual life, which by its very nature
is continuous; of the relation of enjoyment to forming, we will
speak hereafter.
The communication of enjoyment, — a constituent element
of its morality, — springs not from the essence of the same,
but from love to man in general. It can only take place in so
far as thereby the essence of the enjoyment is not affected ;
the enjoyment that lies in the family-life can never be made
a common possession ; and the fact that in the case of a few
rude tribes, hospitality is extended to a communicating even
of marital rights,* is evidence simply of a perversion of the
moral. Manifestly, however, wedlock-happiness and that of
the family in general require, in order to their being moral,
that they be communicated to others, not, however, as a direct
enjoyment, but through hospitality, — through the throwing
open of the family to friendly intercourse, through the per-
•TertulL : Apolog., c. 39; Wuttke: Gesoh. d. ITeident., i, p. 177.
§105.] PURE ETHICS. 197
mitting of others to share in the inner peace of the domestic
life. Hence there is not lacking a moral back-ground for tho
custom of reserving the higher sensuous enjoyment of repasts
for hospitable occasions, in which the spiritual intercourse, and
hence spiritual enjoyment, occupies the fore-ground, while
the sensuous enjoyment appears only as an attendant in the
back-ground. The idea of Paradise is the epitome of the
entire circle of true enjoyments, — it is not a mere crude or
childish fancy-creation, but the very truth itself. Christian
morality is not averse to enjoyment; it favors man's taking
delight in this world of reality. But Paradise exists only
where man is in filial communion with the divine Father, —
where love to God sanctifies all earthly enjoyment. "The
kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness,
and peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost" [Kom. xiv, 17].
Christianity knows no other joy than joy in the Lord; "Re
joice in the Lord always, and again I say, Rejoice " [Phil, iv, 4].
He who rejoices in the Lord, takes true delight in all that
comes from the Lord [Deut. xxvi, 11]. To man as sinful
many enjoyments are forbidden, because he is able to enjoy
them only sinfully ; to the pure the sphere of morally-pure
enjoyment is much wider and richer [Titus i, 15]. The child
of God has enjoyment in every thing, and every thing is to him
a moral enjoyment, save alone the violation of God's law ; to
him the world is a paradise, for it is God's, as is also himself ;
and he loves not the world without God, but only in God and
with God. The blessedness of the children of God, the un
speakable enjoyment of true heart-devotion in fervent prayer,
in which man knows himself at one with his God, and rests
in the peace of God, is not a subject for scientific synthesis
and analytical description ; it belongs to the sphere of the
inner life, and needs to be experienced rather than described ;
the world knows nothing thereof.
198 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§106.
III. MORAL FORMING.
SECTION CVI.
Moral forming works the harmony of existence, in
that thereby man impresses upon objective existence
the peculiarity of his own spirit, — makes it an ex
pression thereof, that is, spiritually shapes it. The
object is destroyed not in its existence, but only in
its isolation and peculiarity, — receives the peculiarity
of the acting spirit, is imbued with, and thus bound
to, it. Forming is morally good not when it is an
impressing of the merely individual and as yet not
morally-rational spirit upon the object (for this would
be injustice to the object, a non-sparing of its legiti
mate being), but when it is an impressing of the spirit
as moral, as rational and as in harmony with God,
that is, when the object itself is formed toward a
complete harmony with the morally-rational collect
ive spirit. Moral forming must therefore always be
associated with moral sparing, and all the more so
the higher the spiritual significance and worth of the
object that is to be formed. As related to the moral
spirit, therefore, all moral forming is an educating,
which latter is never an absolutely all-determining
forming, but a forming that respects the rights of the
personality that is to be formed.
The outward-going formative activity can neither be arbi
trary and purposeless, nor a mere destroying of that which
exists, but must have a rational end and a right of its own. In
view of the wants of the moral activity, therefore, created exist
ence cannot be, primarily, at once and definitively completed and
perfected, though indeed it is good, but it stands in the presence
of the activity of the rational spirit as formable material to
which man, as active, has a right, and the final completion of
§106.] PURE ETHICS. 199
\
which is an end for human activity. It is only through form
ing that man makes the objective world his own, namely, in
that he impresses upon it his stamp, and makes it by moral ac
tivity into a likeness of himself, and therefore into his own
possession. ' ' Do your own business (npdaaeiv TU Wia) and work
with your own hands " [1 Thess. iv, 11] ; man really possesses
nothing as his own but that which he has produced by work
ing and forming ; and it is not a curse but an original moral
law of the universe, that the true existence of man, bodily as
well as spiritually-moral, is conditioned on formative work
ing, on labor. Even the first man was not placed in Paradise
simply to enjoy its delights, simply to appropriate to himself,
naturally and spiritually, that which already existed, but he
was to cultivate the garden [Gen. ii, 15]. Man is called to
dominion over nature, to' be a creator of a spiritual world;
this is both a wide and also a privileging and obligating field
for the moral. The play of the child is a forming ; that of the
brute has no objective significancy; and wherever by virtue
of an instinct, the brute exercises a formative activity, there we
are simply presented with a natural symbol of the moral, as
in the case of the bee, the ant, etc.
Forming, as compared to sparing and appropriating, ap
pears at once as the higher, and generally more difficult, form
of activity ; sparing is a mere checking of the outward-going
activity; appropriating, according to its kind, either annihi
lates the objective existence, or leaves its substance untouched ;
but forming interferes positively with the existence and pecul
iarity of the object. There is need here, on the one hand, of
a considerate respecting of the right of the object to its own
peculiarity, so that the forming may not become an unjust
perverting and destroying, and, on the other hand, of a proper
and clear consciousness of the rat onal purpose of the trans
forming. Appropriating begins earlier in the spiritual de
velopment of man than forming; the latter always presupposes
some degree of moral maturity ; forming as exercised by an
immature spirit is a destroying. The formative activity of
the child appears as a rending-asunder of whatever falls into
its hand; the historical activity of savage or half-civilized
tribes, bears also this childish character. Unripe youth have
also, as relating to society and the state and to historical real-
200 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 107.
ity in general, great pleasure in destruction ; and the revo
lutionary spirit of boisterous young men is only a higher
degree of the destructive proclivity of the child; but on the
supposition of the attainment of higher spiritual maturity, that
which is innocent in the child becomes a culpable lack of
judgment. Moral forming must necessarily always have also
a preserving phase, inasmuch as in all that which is to be
formed there is also something that has a right to existence,
and hence a claim upon sparing; and an education which
ignores this right in the pupil, is violent and therefore
immoral.
SECTION CVII.
Moral forming differs likewise in two respects.
(a) According to that which is formed in the object,
it is either a sensuously-natural or a spiritual form
ing. — 1. Natural forming is a shaping of nature-
material for the human spirit by virtue of the mastery
of the spirit over nature, to the end either of practical
utility or of a manifesting of spirit in art-work. Na
ture, as created, is indeed per se good and perfect, but it
becomes a true home for, a true organ of, the spirit
and of history, only by becoming imbued with spirit.
Natural forming is moral and rational only in so far
as it is the sensuous expressing of a spiritual forming.
All dominating is necessarily a forming, inasmuch as the
dominated is more or less an expression of the will of the dom
inating power. A natural entity can bear this expression
only in virtue of being shaped by man and at the same time
for man. In natural forming the difference between man, as a
moral creature, and the brute, becomes at once plainly visible.
The activity of the brute is predominantly a sensuous appro
priating; that of man is predominantly a forming, and indeed
primarily a sensuously-natural forming. The appropriating
of nature is primarily permitted by God to man, and is limited
by a prohibition only in one respect; the forming of nature
is enjoined upon him [Gen. i, 28; ii, 15]. The mere letting
§108.] PURE ETHICS. 201
alone of even a Paradisaical nature in its given condition, is
for man per se immoral ; he is called to form it into a home for
himself by Ms personal activity. — But man cannot morally ac
complish a natural forming save on the condition that there
exists already in him an antecedent moral forming. The
artist cannot create a work of art unless it has already been
spiritually formed in his soul ; and each and every object that
is shaped, is to be, in its entire purpose, not a mere solitary
something existing for itself, but rather one of the stones of a
greater and essentially-spiritual structure, — the structure of
history. Man shapes nature not for its own sake but for hu
manity, namely, into a home for man's spiritual life, into an
expression of historical reality, — which is essentially the prod
uct of spiritual forming. Hence natural forming has always
the purpose simply of serving the spiritual, even as the nourish
ment and development of the body take place not in the inter
est of the body, but of the spirit.
SECTION CVIII.
Spiritual forming relates to the spiritual essence
of the object, and hence predominantly to the con
scious spirit ; it is a communicating of the spiritual
possession of the subject to the object, a shaping of the
object according to the rational idea of the subject,
a putting of the former into harmony with the moral
person of the latter. Each man has the duty of
helping spiritually to form every other one who
comes into spiritual relation with him, that is, of
communicating to him his own moral nature, of re
vealing himself to him ; this holds good even of the
as yet morally immature in relation to the morally
mature. All morally-spiritual communicating is a
forming, and all spiritual forming is a communicating.
Communicating is, however, only then a moral form
ing, when the communicating spirit itself stands in
harmony with God, is itself morally good, and when
its motive is love.
202 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§108.
Also spiritual forming extends in a certain sense to nature-
objects, in so far as these are not a mere sensuous existence,
but have also spiritual contents. The training and enno
bling of domestic animals is not a sensuous but a relatively-
spiritual forming , inasmuch as their inner nature is raised
to a higher plane. The chief sphere of spiritual forming is,
however, the personal spirit. Man has neither the right nor
the liberty to develop himself as a mere isolated individual, —
he cannot develop himself morally save when in spiritual life-
relation with the moral community; and each stands with
every other in such a moral relation. And this relation is a
mutual forming and appropriating, at the same time. Man is
formed only by appropriating to himself spiritual elements,
that is, in that another spirit reveals itself to him. Forming
cannot take place morally by the imbuing of thoughts and
sentiments that are foreign to the subject himself into the
spirit that is to be educated, for this would be deception, and
would not establish a spiritual communion ; it can be done
only by a self-revelation of the moral spirit. Only the morally-
formed spirit can itself form ; the immoral spirit can only per
vert, and can do this successfully only when it affects morality.
However, it is not necessary that the formative spirit should
be already mature ; also the child exerts a formative influence
upon its elders. — In the condition of sinlessness the formative
activity has no need of art or of a calculated plan ; mere self-
manifestation exercises a formative influence directly and of
itself. All artfully-planned manners of influencing are evi
dence of lost purity, and cannot, however cunningly contrived,
exert the power of the moral reality. The moral spirit lets its
light shine before men that they may see its good works, and
this light directly illumines and enlightens the spirit of others.
This self-revelation, however, would be immoral, that is, hollow
and empty, were it to spring from self-complacency instead of
from love to others. It is love alone that divests this letting
one's light shine of an appearance of parade. Loving souls
hide themselves not from each other; true love impels to a
full and genuine self-communication; and moral love has
nothing that it would gladly or necessarily conceal.
§109.] PURE ETHICS. 203
SECTION CIX.
(5) According to the manner in which the objective
entity is formatively influenced, we have to distinguish
between particular and general -forming.
1. Particular forming forms single objects for the
service of the earthly wants of single or several per
sons, that is, for use for temporal ends. It is there
fore labor, in the proper and narrower sense of the
word. Labor relates not merely to natural matter,
but also to the individual spirit, in so far as the latter
is to be formed for the temporal earthly life, and
hence is spiritual as well as natural forming.
All utility relates to the particular ; that which is for the
common utility is simply that which is useful for many par
ticular persons. When the Rationalistic school spoke of the
"common utility" of religion, it manifested simply very bad
taste ; religion is thus placed on a par, e. </., with a public
fountain or an advertising sheet. Labor concerns the indi
vidual ; works for the common utility, such as roads or canals,
look not to the good of humanity as a whole, as a unity, but
to the many individual persons whom they are to benefit ; for
him who does not use them, they have no significancy and are
perhaps even offensive. Their utility and enjoyment fall to
the individual as such, but not in virtue of his being a man,
a rational spirit. In a work of art, however, one has pleas
ure precisely in his character of rational spirituality ; although
from another stand-point this work is of no "use" to him
whatever. That which is to exalt the Tieart must be more
than labor. Products of labor may indeed excite a general
and rational interest, as, for example, a machine or other
superior fruits of skill; here, however, it is not the work
itself that is admired, but the art to which the handicraft has
been exalted, — the spiritual power of invention, that is, the
power of spirit, — not the utility, but the beauty or ingenuity,
— not the merely individual element, but the spiritual, which,
as such, bears upon itself the stamp of general significancy
204 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [£ 109.
and validity. The actual work on a machine is performed
not by the ingenious inventor, the master, but by the manual
laborer ; and in that which this laborer executes there is lit
tle else to admire than the industry, but nothing of a general
interest. The end of a work of art is not, to be used by the
individual, but to be enjoyed and admired universally; and
it is properly regarded as a sign of spiritual unculture when
a particular age takes delight only in the merely useful, in mere
labor, and not also in that which transcends labor, namely,
in art, — when the age does not also exalt labor into art. In
the time of Rationalistic illuminisin many "useless" art-
structures of the Middle Ages, magnificent castles and
churches, were converted into magazines and factories. — art
was turned into a hand-maid of labor; this was certainly very
"useful, "but it was at the same time also an evidence of
shameful unculture. The spirit of mere utility is but little
removed from barbarism.
Labor is not mere manual toil. Common usage is perfectly
right when it speaks also, and not merely in the stricter
sense of the word, of spiritual, intellectual, labor, and of intel
lectual laborers, in distinction from a higher spiritual and
intellectual activity. The highest results to which the spirit
can attain are not effected by labor; the delicate, etherial im
age which delights our astonished gaze was not painfully
wrought out by the sweat of the multitude, but sprang forth
at once from the brain of genius ; but, as distinguished from
this ideal activity of the spirit, there is another which is en
titled to be called work in the strict sense of the word, and
which consists in a strictly-particular forming. All spiritual
activity which looks to the mere benefit of individuals is
labor; thus, we speak of the labor of pupils, of official labors,
etc. The pupil labors in order, by the appropriation of par
ticular scientific material, to form himself as an individual
for a calling in life ; the teacher labors upon the pupil for the
same end. All spiritual forming which looks to success in
the world, to obtaining a position in it, is labor ; hence also
we maj speak of a scientific industry ; there is an immense
difference between science as manual labor, and science as an
art. When the learner, however, elevates himself to a more
ideal activity, — when, inspired with enthusiasm for the true
§110.] PURE ETHICS. 205
and the good, he soars above the merely particular, or when
the teacher seeks to awaken an enthusiasm of this character
in him, then the activity ceases to be labor and becomes
a higher kind of forming. It is true, we sometimes speak,
though in a less strict sense, of a laboring in the sphere of
purely spiritual things, as, for example, in that of religion
and of active love [Rom. xvi, 6, 12; 1 Thess. i, 3; Heb. vi, 10;
1 Cor. xv, 58; 2 Cor. vi, 5; xi, 27; Rev. ii, 2, 3; xiv, 13];
Paul says, "I labored more abundantly than they all " [1 Cor.
xv, 10 J, and the pastor and the messenger of the Word may
speak of their labor on souls [1 Cor. xvi, 16; 2 Cor. x, 15 ;
xi, 23 ; 1 Thess. iii, 5 ; v, 12 ; 1 Tim. v, 17] ; however, in this
essentially figuratively-used expression [see John iv, 38 ;
1 Cor. iii, 8] reference is had not to the activity per se, but to
the trouble in overcoming obstacles (hence the words KOTTOC
and KOTUCIW) which lie not in the matter itself, but in other cir
cumstances, such as the enmity of sinful men, the feebleness
of the actor himself, etc.
SECTION CX.
2. General forming forms the object for a general,
that is, a rational end, — not merely for a particular
need, for temporal utility, but for the rational and
moral spirit in general, — forms it for rational enjoy
ment, for moral approbation, i. e. into a beautiful and
good product, — is artistic forming, in the largest sense
of the word. It may be a sensuous as well as a
spiritual forming. The natural entity receives a spirit
ual form, — becomes an expression, an image, of the
rational spirit, an expression of harmony in general,
—a work of art. The spiritual entity is formed into
an essentially God-answering, truly rational char
acter, into a beautiful soul, into a child of God. Re
ligious and ideal culture in general differs essentially
from education for a worldly calling, — aims not to
make man into a " useful " and serviceable being, but
into one in whom both God and men have pleasure,
206 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 110.
and who has himself pleasure in God and in all that
is divine and beautiful, — seeks not to mold him into
a merely isolated being, a mere citizen, a mere pro
fessional man, but seeks to bring to development that
which is purely and truly human in him, — seeks to
make the merely natural person into an image of the
moral spirit, into a true image of God, into an ex
pression of the truth. All that which is created by
general forming is art-work ; and when this forming,
as distinguished from professional working, creates a
science, then this science becomes itself a work of art.
Hence, no general forming is possible without moral
enthusiasm, that is, without being imbued with and
prompted by a universal spirit which divests itself of
all individual narrowness, and of all selfishness, and
aspires to a universal divine ideal (§ 96). — A special
phase of general forming constitutes the typical or
symbolical activity, under which falls also the mor
ally becoming.
The fruit which is aimed at in mere work is only for the
benefit of the individual ; works of art, and the beautiful
and good in general, are for the spiritual enjoyment of rational
man as such. Also the angels must rejoice in heaven, not
only over a sinner who repents, but also over all that is truly
beautiful. Man forms himself into a useful, a skillful, a
learned member of society by labor and pains-taking, but into
a beautiful soul only by enthusiasm ; this is indeed not the
beautiful soul as improvised by sentimental novelists, but the
soul that is beautiful in the eyes of God un,d of all of God's
children, — the child-soul of a child of God, full of love and
enthusiasm, — the soul of him who is pure of heart, and which
inwardly beholds God, because God looks upon it with pleas
ure. Hence the Scriptures look upon the higher artistic
endowment as a special gift from God [Exod. xxxi, 3, 6;
xxxvi, 1, 2].
Art in its deepest ground and essence is religious, as in fact
§ 110.] PURE ETHICS. 207
historically it is a birth of religion ; this holds good with
out exception of all nations. No religion is without art,
without an ideal embodying of the highest ideas. Architect
ure, plastic art and song, among all nations, have sprung
from religion, and are the subservient attendants of religion
[Exod. xxxi, 2 sqq.; xxxv, 1 sqq.] ; and it required all the un-
genial one-sidedness and bald reflective tendency of Zwingli
to banish art from the Church, — a wrong against Christian
humanity which has, at least in some degree, been disavowed
in most of the branches of the Reformed Church. Even
worldly art, in so far as it has not, untrue to its essential na
ture, entered into the service of sin, is closely related to
religion. It also elevates man above the merely individual
and sensuously-natural; and, itself a birth of enthusiasm, it
awakens also in man enthusiasm for the beautiful and the
noble, — for that which raises him out of his isolation and
self-seeking, and up to that which finds response in all moral
souls. L(*ve to art banishes rudeness, — makes the heart
receptive also for the morally beautiful and divine. Hence
the culture of art is so important an element in education
and in the life of nations. But for this reason also art be
comes such a demon-power, when, forgetting its nobility, it
stoops to the role of pandering to corrupt pleasure, and when,
instead of inspiring enthusiasm for the truly beautiful, it only
aims to intoxicate and seduce by lustful appeals to the senses.
"Wherever there is a healthful religious life, there art and re
ligion stand in intimate and mutual relations. Where faith is
alive in the heart, there it utters itself in "psalms and spirit
ual songs," there it celebrates the glory of its God in a
becoming ornamentation of his altars and courts [Exod. xxxv,
21 sqq.], and wherever true art prevails there it consecrates
the most beautiful of its products to the honor of God. Re
ligion created for the Greeks poets and artists, and the poets
and artists created for the Greeks their gods ; and however
much there may have been of heathen error in these creations,
still this much at least is here exemplified, namely, that the
divine makes its nearest approaches to man in the words, the
songs and the works of artistic inspiration. The prophets of
the Ancient Covenant were also unable to bring down to the
plane of mere simple prose, the visions which they had spirit-
208 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 110.
ually beholden ; and also the Prophet of the Few Covenant
publishes his visions under the drapery of boldly-constructed
symbols. He who finds fault with this knows neither art nor
religion.
General moral forming does not necessarily take place
directly and immediately ; as relating to the free spirit, it
consists essentially in the fact that, by the moral activity of
the subjcctj the object is so incited and inspired as to bring
about self-development through his own spontaneity and
strength. In this consists the true art of education and gov
erning, namely, in that the guiding power hides itself in some
respect from the spirit that is to be molded, — does not per
mit its influence upon it to appear as a limiting, overpowering
force, but rather simply gives scope for free and independent
self-development. This does not take place, however, by a
simple "letting alone" of the one who is to be guided, but
by the fact that the moral and rational consciousness is quick
ened and strengthened in him, — that he is brought to feel and
know himself, not as a mere non-obligated individual, but as
a personality inspired by a holy and moral spirit, — that a
moral disposition and an ideal enthusiasm become in him an
actuating power, which in turn itself forms him to a higher
development and perfection.
There is an important sphere of moral activity, namely, sym
bolical forming — to which belongs also the practicing of the be
coming, — which can be understood only from the stand-point of
general artistic forming; — a sphere of stumbling and oft'ense
to all champions of the merely prosaically useful. The moral
ly-good, is not simply to become real, but the real is also to be
an expression, a manifestation of the morally-good, — is to bear
witness in its entire outward appearance to an inner ideal
quality, and every single good is to show itself not merely as
per se good, but is also to point to a higher good beyond
itself. Even as in nature, the good, as a regulated means to
an end, is associated with a beauty more significant than the
mere fitness for an end, — even as the flower not merely pos
sesses the fructifying organs and the delicate tissues that pro
tect them, but also, in its graceful form, its hues and its
fragrance, delights man, and, as a symbol of the eternally
beautiful, reminds him of divine love and of the glory of God,
§110.] PURE ETHICS. 209
— even as the birds of song not only nourish themselves and
propagate their race, but also praise the goodness of the
Creator in strains that touch tho heart, — even as God not only
causes the sun to shine and to awaken life, and the clouds to
drop rain, but also paints on the skies the color-resplendent
bow as a pledge of his faithfulness and grace, — in a word, as
God himself decks his creation with such grandeur that the
heavens proclaim his glory, and with such beauty that the
understanding is incapable adequately to comprehend it, but
only the adoring heart to feel and love it, — so also man, as
God-like, not only forms that which is useful for the temporal
life, but also that which, as a significant sign, points to a
higher good, — forms reality into a type of the true and good,
— creates the poetry of reality. Every artistic product is such
a sign or symbol, but all symbolical forming is not properly
artistic in the stricter sense, though it is indeed poetical.
The clothing of man is not simply for a protection against
the weather, but also largely a suggestive expression of the
inner life * all adornment as well as cleanliness has a spiritual
suggestiveness. For him who knows not this symbolical,
poetical phase of the moral, a very important and essential
part of morality remains incomprehensible. A large portion
of the moral precepts of the Scriptures look not to a direct
and simple realization of a good, but to the expressive sug
gesting of a moral element not directly contained in the mat
ter itself, — have a symbolical character; and lightly to esteem
this phase of things is an indication of moral obtuseness.
Doubtless it was not very "useful" when Mary, the sister of
Lazarus, took a pound of pure and costly ointment and
anointed the Lord's feet ; and the harsh reproof of Judas was
perfectly well-grounded from the stand-point of mere utili
tarianism, but the Lord judged very differently from Judas
[John xii, 3 sqq.; comp. Mark xiv, 3 sqq.]. To this category
belong almost all the precepts of the Old Testament in regard
to the clean and the unclean, to food and clothing, — in which
case the object of the forming is man himself, — and also in
regard to the form of worship and whatever is therewith con
nected, such as circumcision, etc., as well as in regard to agri
culture [Lev. xix, 19 ; Deut. xxii, 9, 10] and to the treatment
of animals [Exod. xxi, 28, 29, 32; xxiii, 19; Lev. xx, 15, 16].
VOL. 11—15
210 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§1H-
The becoming is the outward, beautiful or symbolical form
of the moral, — in a certain sense its esthetic phase. To cele
brate the Lord's day in the spiritual-exalting of the heart to
God, is a moral duty; to give expression to the celebration
by sacred art and by a worthy outward appearance, is becom
ing. The ungodly world is prone to substitute in the place of
the moral substance an outwardly and externally gracious
form — the becoming ; the suggestion : ' ' That is not becom
ing," is with the irreligious world of much more weight than :
"It is sinful." The outward form may indeed be hypocriti
cally assumed in the absence of the substance, but he who
holds fast to the moral substance, must observe also the form ;
he only is morally-cultured who not only observes the sub
stance of the general precepts, but also aims at the morally-
becoming ; and this is in fact a general and artistic forming
on the part of the moral activity. The becoming stands not
along-side of the moral precept, but is essentially contained
in it, as, in fact, without it man remains coarse and rude.
Almost all of the above-mentioned precepts of the Old Testa
ment are precepts of the becoming, and the New Testament
also lays great stress on the becoming [1 Cor. xi, 4 sqq.; 1 Tim.
ii, 9, and others].
SECTION CXI.
Appropriating and forming are, in a right moral
development, ever in association with eacli other, and
that too all the closer the higher their character.
No spiritual appropriating is without spiritual self-
forming, and no forming of an objective entity is
without a spiritual appropriating of the thing formed ;
and in fact the forming of one's own spirit is per se
necessarily an appropriating. The measure of appro
priating and especially of enjoying stands in all right
development, always in strict relation to the measure
of the forming ; and the two modes of forming are
associated not only with each other, but also with the
two modes of appropriating, as are in turn the latter
with each other.
§ 111.] PURE ETHICS. • 211
The fruit of labor and still more the work of art, are the
property of the laborer and the artist; they call it their own;
they have appropriated it to themselves in the very process
of producing it. The outward-directed activity turns thus
about and flows back into the acting person. In forming an
objective entity, man forms his own self ; he has the work
not merely as his own, as a copy of his thought, but he ia
also himself spiritually and morally promoted both by the
working and by the work. All forming is self-forming ; and
inasmuch as man stands to his fellows in a spiritual relation, — •
reveals himself to them through his culture, — hence all self-
forming is directly also in turn a forming of others. — All par
ticular forming, all work, should as moral include in itself
also at the same time an element of general forming; without
this the laborer falls into spiritual and moral deterioration.
When the laborer unites the useful with the beautiful, —
gives to his work a graceful form, — when song accompanies
the work, when the heart mounts up from the work that
serves a temporal end, toward the Eternal One, and thus puts
into earnest practice the precept: "Pray and labor," then
the particular forming is exalted and transfigured by the
general. The more isolated, the more limited, the work is, so
much the more preponderates the merely useful phase of it ;
hence no work is so dangerous, nay, so detrimental, to the
harmoniously-moral culture of man as the spiritless mechan
ism of f actory-work ; and white slavery works here often
much more ruinously than the black. The uninterrupted
monotony of the narrow routine of the work paralyzes the
spirit and subverts morality.
Furthermore, all forming is not only a general appropriat
ing, formative of the subject himself, in that he recognizes
the product of his influence, but also a particular appropriat
ing, in that he enjoys it. The divine prototype of this is
seen in the account of creation, where we read that God
looked upon all that he had made, and found that it was
very good. All moral work, and still more, all general form
ing, are, in and of themselves, also enjoyment, and that too the
highest and purest enjoyment, even as in the above utterance
of the Creator his own bliss was implicitly expressed also.
But also the sensuous enjoyment that is not directly included
212 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 112.
in the formative activity itself, is nevertheless, in virtue of the
moral order of the world, associated with it. Adam was first
to dress and care for the garden, and thereafter to eat of its
fruits [Gen. ii, 15, 16]. "If any one will not work, neither
should he eat " [2 Thess. iii, 10] ; this is a morally unassailable
principle ; and where the practice is otherwise, there the
social relations are corrupt; and the grudge of the suffering
laborer against the luxurious idler has a very just foundation.
In proportion to the degree of productive activity, 'rises or
falls the moral right to enjoyment in general, and to personal
position in society. Hence the admonition : Let each labor
to produce with his own hands something good [Eph. iv, 28 ;
cornp. Acts xx, 34, 35; 1 Thess. iv, 11 ; ii, 9].
SECTION CXII.
Inasmuch as man becomes perfect only through
the perfect all-sided development of all his life-phases,
and as any exclusive realization and culture of one,
or simply some, of them works a disturbance of the
inner harmony, hence every person should, in so far
as his circumstances admit of it, realize every form
of moral appropriation and moral culture. He who
allows his life to be devoted exclusively to particular
forming and appropriating, — to toil and enjoyment,
has fallen out of moral harmony, and is consequently
immoral. General, and hence, essentially, religious,
forming must attend the work hand in hand ; and the
ordination of the Sabbath along-side of the days of
labor has not simply a religious, but essentially also
a moral significancy. Moral resting from labor is a
rising to ideal self-culture, an exalting of the tempo
rally-particular into the eternal, the holy, the general,
the divine; the celebrating of the Sabbath is the
higher and moral transfiguring of the temporal pro
saic individual life by the poesy of the ideal and the
infinite.
§112.] PURE ETHICS. 213
In particular forming man merges himself into objective ex
istence ; primarily he has not the object in his own possession,
but the object possesses him; hence the danger, especially in
a state of sinfulness, that the person lose himself in his la
bor, — that, as in sensuous enjoyment, he passively surrender
himself to the creature [Eccles. vi, 7, in the Hebrew text]. Man
should, however, hold fast to himself and to his Creator, —
should withdraw himself from his absorption in finite things,
collect himself in spiritual repose, — should obtain fresh moral
strength for the particular forming of industry, in the general
forming which springs of enthusiasm. Even as God, though
merging himself into the world while creating it, yet did not
lose and forget himself in it, but returned to himself and to
his infinite self-sufficiency, and ever retains himself in eternal
unchangeable majesty above all that is created, so also is it a
moral requirement that man, in his creating of the finite and
particular, should not forget himself as a personality gifted
with eternal destinies ; it is for man's sake that the Sabbath
was made [Mark ii, 27]. It is very suggestive that in the
Scriptures the repose of God after creation is made the proto
type and basis for the celebration of the Sabbath [Gen. ii, 3 ;
Exod. xx, 8 sqq. ]. It is thereby implied that it is our innermost .
God-likeness that calls for the rest of the Sabbath, — the truly
rational, religiously-moral essence of man, and not the mere
natural need of repose and enjoyment. That which is with
God only two phases of his eternal life itself, and not an alter
nation in time, namely, creative action and self-possession, this
falls, in the case of the finite spirit, at least partially, into such
an alternation, — into labor and Sabbath-rest. God blessed
the Sabbath day ; there rests upon its observance an especial,
an extraordinary benediction, an impartation of heavenly
goods, even as the blessing upon labor is primarily only an im
portation of temporal goods. The Sabbath has not merely a
negative significancy, is not a mere interruption of labor, but
it has a very rich positive significancy, —it is the giving free
scope to the higher, time-transcending nature of the rational
God-like spirit, the re-attaching of the spirit that had been
immersed by labor into the temporal, to the imperishable and
to the divine. Where God is conceived of as swallowed up
in nature, as with the Chinese and in the unbelief of our own
214 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 113.
day, there there exists no Sabbath ; there there is to be found
only a discretionary alternation of labor and sensuous enjoy
ment. The celebration of the Sabbath belongs to morality
per se, and does not depend on the fact of the state of redemp
tion from sinfulness; but where sin is as yet a dominant
power there its observance is necessarily less free, legally
more strict, than where the freedom of the children of God
prevails.
From the fact that all moral working is attended also with
a general forming, it follows manifestly that, for him who is
truly morally free, the antithesis of Sabbath-rest and labor is
not of au absolute character, — that every day and all labor have
also their Sabbath consecration, and that, on the other hand,
also the Sabbath does not absolutely exclude all work. It is
perfectly clear, however, that, in general, only such works
consist with the observance of the Sabbath as express a gen
eral formative activity, — as bear an artistic character in the
noblest sense of the word. In this category belong those
healings of the sick by which the Lord incurred the reproach
of Sabbath-breaking. Such works are not labor, but, as a
restoring of the disturbed order of the universe, are of gen
eral and spiritual significaney.
SUBDIVISION SECOND.
THE MORAL ACTIVITY IN ITS DIFFERENCES AS
RELATING TO ITS DIFFERENT OBJECTS. — I. IN
RELATION TO GOD.
SECTION CXIII.
As God sustains to man an essentially active and
creative, but not a receptive, relation, hence in the
strict sense of the word he is an object only of moral
appropriating.
(a) The moral appropriating of God is directly at
the same time also the highest moral self-forming of
the moral person, and contains two necessarily asso-
§113.] PURE ETHICS. 215
ciated elements : first, that God becomes for us, and
secondly, that we become for God ; that is, that, on
the one hand, we take up into our moral conscious
ness the ever present divine, and that, on the other,
we elevate our moral consciousness to God, — form it
into the divine lite; the former is faith, the latter is
worship / neither can exist without the other. Be
lieving is the lovingly-willed and lovingly-willing,
that is, the pious recognizing of God as lovingly
revealing himself to us as our Lord and our Father,
and to whom we are obligated to unconditional obe
dience and submissive love, — it is the self-conscious
ness of man as having come to its rational truth,
namely, in that man regards himself no more as a
mere isolated individual, but thinks of himself con
stantly and strictly in his relations to God.
As believing is essentially the particular appropri
ating of God, so the knowing, the cognizing of Him
is the general appropriating ; and hence the striving
for this knowledge is a high moral duty ; this duty is
fulfilled not without believing, but only through and
in virtue of the same, — is a spiritual receiving and a
true appropriating of the divine revelation imparted
to us through the channel of faith, in regard to the
nature, power, and will of God. The correct knowl
edge of God is not the antecedent condition, but the
goal of the moral striving, and hence without it there
can be no perfection of morality.
God is indeed per se already present in every creature ; but
in order that he shall be truly present for man, that is, in a
manner called for by his rational nature, it is necessary that man
shall freely appropriate to himself this presence of God. I
possess rationally only that which I rationally and morally
appropriate. All appropriating, and hence all faith, pre-sup-
216 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 113.
poses a difference, and at the same time a mutual life-relation
between its subject and its object ; what I already am, in and of
myself, that I cannot appropriate to myself. That the appro
priating of God is a moral act, arises from the fact that man
may fully admit his difference from, and yet not heartily
recognize his life- relation to, God, — may cling to himself as
independent of God, may sinfully aspire even to become like
God. It is a moral activity when man raises his self-conscious
ness, which is primarily merely individual, into a truly rational
one, and conceives of himself not merely as an isolated being,
but as conditioned by God, that is, as created by and obliga
ted to God ; it is only this religious self-consciousness that is
moral, and this is in fact faith. Faith is not a mere regard
ing as true, not a mere religious knowledge, or a mere object
ive consciousness, but it is a morally-conditioned believing, a
willing, and hence a loving, recognition ; in faith we icill to
have God and a consciousness of him in us, and we desire
this consciousness as divine, that is, as a full and true life-
force, and hence as operative, as realizing the divine. The
notion of faith combines, therefore, loving and willing with
knowing, — is not identical with one of the three, but is the
unity of them, — is not an affair of the mere understanding
but of the heart (§ 53). Faith is the thankful reflection of the
divine love ; lie who is loved by God, turns himself lovingly
toward the loving One. Without the love of God to man
there would be no love of man to God ; man believes because
he becomes conscious of the divine love ; he who would only
recognize received love, but not reciprocated it with his heart,
is immoral; a mere recognition of God without heart-faith is
sinful.
"Faith is the substance (the sure confidence) of things
hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" [Hcb. xi, 1]; it
is not a confidence of that which falls within the immediate
scope of experience, but of that which lies beyond it, not of
that which already exists in realization but of that which is
yet, in virtue of faith, to be realized into fact, though indeed
it already exists in germ. The really complete life-communion
with God, the full appropriating of the divine, is at first only
an object of hope, — can be really brought about only through
faith ; and faith lays hold, in full confidence of success, upon
§113.] PURE ETHICS. 217
the divine as lovingly revealing itself to it. Faith stands,
therefore, not by the side of knowledge, as if not including
this within itself, nor yet below it, as if it were but a lower
degree thereof, and would cease with the increase of knowl
edge, but in fact above it, inasmuch as it is a loving knowing,
a lovingly-willed and lovingly-willing knowing of God, so
that consequently it includes within itself both feeling and
•willing as essential constituent elements. Believing leads to
knowing, but also precedes actual knowing, and hence is not
conditioned thereon.
As particular appropriating, believing or faith is, so to speak,
an enjoying of the divine, — belongs essentially to the person
ality itself, and is therefore not communicable, whereas know
ing may, on the presupposition of faith, be communicated by
instruction. In the entire sphere of the religious life, believ
ing precedes knowing, for without faith God would no more
exist for us than would sensuous objects without our senses ;
believing includes, it is true, some degree of knowing, but is
not per se complete knowing. And for the simple reason that
believing includes knowing as an essential element, it is a
moral requirement to bring our knowing to its highest possi
ble perfection, and thereby also to heighten and strengthen
faith. The divine revelation as received by faith becomes
real knowledge by a proper spiritual merging of ourselves
into it, by a full appropriating of its contents into our entire
spiritually-transformed being, so that the knowing becomes
thus a powerful moral motive to the loving of God and to
obedience to his will [Psa. Ixiii, 7 sqq. ; Jer. xxix, 13, 14; John
viii, 32; Acts xvii, 27; Col. i, 11; Eph. i, 17, 18]. The knowl
edge of God consists not merely iri the, as yet, only imperfectly
attainable [1 Cor. xiii, 9, 10; 2 Cor. v, 7; Isa. Iv, 8,9] knowl
edge of God's being [Rom. i, 19, 20], but also of the divine
will as to us [Col. i, 9, 10 ; Eph. v, 15-17] and of the divine
providential activity in nature and in human life, and of the
holy purpose of his world-government. Though indeed a prop
er and ripe knowledge of God leads to a higher perfection
of the moral life, still knowledge is not, as faith, the ante
cedent condition of the moral in general; for only he can
know the truth of God who is pure of heart [Matt, v, 8].
218 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 114.
SECTION CXIV.
The second phase of the moral appropriating of
God is, that man becomes for God, — that he exalts
himself toward God by a moral act in order to unite
God actually, and riot simply in inner recognition,
with himself, — in order to permit the divine activity
to be influential upon him ; this is in fact i\\Qivorship-
ing of God, which is at once a religious and a moral,
and hence a holy, activity. The worship of God is
either purely spiritual and at the same time affirma
tive, namely, in that man puts himself spiritually into
direct relation with God, — rises to God in pious devo
tion, which is prayer, — or it is of a rather virtual
and at the same time more negative character, namely,
a free moral turning away from the ungodly and the
unholy, — sacrifice. These two phases of the worship
ing of God belong inseparably together ; there is no
prayer without sacrifice, and no sacrifice without
prayer.
Faith is the purely inward phase of the moral appropriat
ing of the divine, — the woman-like self-opening of the soul
for the in-shining of the divine light ; in this receiving, the
person remains strictly in and with himself. Worshiping is
more objective; the person goes forth out of himself, — lets
his own light beam forth toward the divine original light,
even as the flame of the sacrifice, when once kindled by the
heavenly fire, mounts up toward heaven again. All worship
ing of God presupposes faith, though it is itself more than
faith. When man has by faith received the divine into him
self, and imbued himself therewith; he still yet distinguishes
himself as a creature from God, — puts himself into moral re
lation to God, raises himself by a moral action to God as to
one different from himself ; and this is the worshiping of God.
To the pure mystic all worship falls away, for he loses sight
of the distinction between the Infinite and the finite.
§ 115.] PURE ETHICS. 219
Worship is the immediate actual outgoing of faith •, it is a
religious activity which aims at making the already naturally-
existing communion of God Avith us into a consciously-willed
communion of ourselves with God ; it is a sacred activity as
distinguished from the worldly or profane, — from that which
deals only with temporal things. In a normal moral condition
of humanity, all activity whatever would bear a sacred char
acter, and the distinction between the sacred and the "pro
fane " could only assume the form of a conditional outward
difference of a temporally-alternating occupation with earthly
things, on the one hand, and with eternal interests on the
other ; with labor and with the Sabbath-rest of the soul dur
ing the continuance of the earthly life, and that, too, only in so
far as consistent with the fact that all earthly occupation is
constantly exalted and sanctified by a positive and conscious
relation to the eternal. Our sacred activity relates either im
mediately to God, — is a purely affirmative uniting of the human
to the divine ; or it relates only mediately to God, but imme
diately to the ungodly, namely, in that by refusing the un
godly, it sets up a barrier against it, — turns the heart away
from the evil, and toward God. These two features can never
be separated ; prayer without sacrifice, without a rejecting of
the ungodly both within and without us, is morally impossi
ble ; in exalting ourselves to God in prayer we at the same
time distinguish the divine from the anti-divine, and
withdraw ourselves from the latter; we cannot truly pray
without at the same time renouncing the worldly, — without
giving up, without sacrificing, the pretentious emptiness of
finite things.
SECTION CXV.
1. Prayer, as resting on faith in the personal God,
is the free moral uniting of the believing heart with
God, in such a manner that the moral personality is
in fact not lost, but, on the contrary, exalted in and
by God ; it is the free and conscious recognizing that
God knows all our thoughts, and the joyful wish that
such be the case; it exalts our natural communion
with God into a spiritual and moral one, the being
220 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§115.
of God in man into a being of man in God. As it
is alone in this being at one with God that the true
life of the rational spirit consists, hence in the moral
man, at least ?t prayerful disposition, if not express
praying in words, must be strictly unceasing. Prayer
has only then moral worth when it really springs of
a praying heart, and hence, when it is offered with
devotion • and as it unites the person with the Father
of all men, hence it leads to a communion of prayer,
and the higher form of prayer is therefore social
prayer.
In prayer man enters into personal communion with God,
and in loving confidence expressly communicates to him as the
All-knowing One, his pious thinking, feeling, and willing;
only that which is pious can be communicated to God ; a con
sciously unpious prayer is blasphemy. Prayer is absolutely
conditioned on a believing recognition of the divine omnis
cience ; it is not, therefore, so much a means of making our
thoughts known to God, — for God knows our thoughts from
afar, and of what we have need before we ask therefor, — as
rather an expression of our belief that God knows, and our
joyful willingness that he should know thereof. A prayer
that should spring from the thought that God himself needed
it in order to know our inward state, would be per se impious
and in self-contradiction ; but every thought and every act
that we are not willing that God should know, and that we
would hide from him, is impious, and the degree of our piety
is measured by the degree in which we have the desire that
all our acts and thoughts should be known of God. The in
termission of prayer docs not shut out our inner life from the
divine knowledge, it simply shuts out the divine blessing from
us. Prayer reveals not our being to the divine knowledge,
but it reveals the divine all-knowing presence to us, — brings
not God down to us, but elevates us to God ; it is for us the
means of uniting ourselves truly with God, inasmuch as
thereby not only is God, as the Omnipresent One, with «s, but
also we, by a religiously-moral act of will, are with God ; and
§ 115.] PURE ETHICS. 221
only when God is himself with us, not merely naturally and
without our desire, but upon our express prayer and seeking
therefor, are we in real saving life-communion with him.
Without prayer there can be only a natural, but not a moral
and spiritual communion with God ; and this merely natural
communion is, on the supposition that it rises no higher, in
antagonism to the essence of a moral creature, and hence leads
to the casting off of man by God. For him who cannot pray,
God's presence is judicial and condemnatory. As in prayer
man exalts himself to the highest object of the moral activity,
so is prayer also the highest moral act ; and all other moral
action receives its moral worth solely from its relation to this,
— solely as morally consecrated by prayer.
In prayer, man gives utterance to his highest moral privi
leges and to his free personality, inasmuch as thereby, with
full and joyful freedom, he wills, recognizes and heightens
that which already existed without prayer, though indeed
only in an immediate, natural ante-moral manner, but which
could not so remain without turning into antagonism and
unblessedness, namely, the divine omnipresent domination.
Only to those who desire it is God's presence a blessing,
and only by those who love is the loving communion
of God experienced ; ' ' draw nigh to God, and he will
draw nigh to you " [James iv, 8 ; comp. Psa. cxlv, 18,
19]. It is the sublime significancy of prayer that it brings
into prominence man's great and high destination, that it
brings to expression his free personal relation to God, that it
heightens man's consciousness of his true moral nature in rela
tion to God ; and as all morality depends on our relation to
God, prayer is, in fact, the very life-blood of morality. The
true freedom, and hence also the true morality of man, mani
fests itself not in his arbitrarily choosing that which is fleet
ing or baseless, but in the fact that with conscious free-will
and glad assent he recognizes and confirms that which lies
in the holy constitution of the world itself. To the limited
natural understanding, prayer seems useless and therefore irra
tional ; for this understanding is not capable of comprehend
ing the spiritual. It is true, God causes his sun to rise upon
the good and the evil, gives rain to the just and the unjust,
furnishes food to man and beast, — in a word, He "gives to all
222 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 115.
men their daily bread " even without prayer; but the signifi-
cancy of such prayer is the fact of our recognizing Him as the
Giver of all, of our receiving his gifts with thankfulness.
That God's presence and gifts be not only about us but also
for us, that they become a blessing to us, a bond of love
between God and us, a living fountain of godly-minded-
ness, — that they be not foreign to us, not in antagonism to
us, but in fact our own and in harmony writh us, — that God's
being in us be also our being in God, — all this is the fruit of
prayer.
Prayer is so intimately connected with the morally-religious
life that it appears, under some form, even among those na
tions where, because of the relative ignoring of the person
ality of God, it has almost lost all shadow of meaning, as, for
example, in India. Greek and Roman philosophers often in
troduce their disquisitions with prayers (Socrates, Plato) ; the
Romans prayed on occasion of all important state-events, on
the election of magistrates, the enactment of laws, etc. Of
course in heathen prayer there could never exist the proper
earnestness, inasmuch as the idea of God was always imper
fect ; no heathen could ever pray as could a pious Israelite.
The first real opposing of prayer, if we except the frivolous
Epicureans, was on the part of Maximus of Tyre, a Platonist
of the second century after Christ; it was also opposed by
Rousseau, though for very superficial reasons (because the
order of the universe could not be changed by individual
wishes), and, with astonishing lack of insight by Kant, who
even finds in the Lord's Prayer, as given by Christ, a very
clear suggestion to substitute in the place of all prayer simply
a determination to lead a good life (Rclig. innerh., etc., 1794,
p. 302). In Pantheism the rejection of prayer as absurd, is a
matter of course. — The Scriptures present prayer as one of the
most essential moral requirements [Psa. cxlv, 18, 19; Matt,
vii, 7 ; Mark xi, 24 ; James i, 5 sgq. ; 1 Tim. ii, 1-3 ; Eph.
vi, 18]. The injunction to pray without ceasing [Luke xviii,
1-7; 1 Thess. v, 17; Rom. xii, 12; Col. iv, 2; 1 Tim. ii, 8;
comp. Psa. Ixiii, 7] implies the constant aspiring of our heart
to God as to Him whose will alone is our law, and who gives
his blessing to whatever is done in his name. — Where sin is
not yet dominant, any other than a devotional prayer is incon-
§116.] PURE ETHICS. 223
ceivable. Devotion in prayer is not merely the absence of
distraction, but it is the praying out of a true, earnest and
upright heart-disposition. Devotion cannot be required as a
special duty, for it is necessarily included in the very idea of
prayer; the Scriptures simply allude to the earnestness of
prayer, and to the liability of self-deception in well-meant
prayer [Isa. xxix, 13; Psa. cxlv, 18; Matt, xv, 8; vi, 5-7;
James v, 16].
It is not as a merely moral, but as a religious, activity that
prayer leads to communion, for religion is essentially socializing,
not directly, however, but in virtue of the communion which it
establishes with God. Mere individual prayer has its proper
justification as bearing on the personal relation to God ; it is
in fact the primary and most obvious form [Matt, vi, 6] ; but
prayer attains to its highest, though never exclusive, character
as the single-hearted prayer of the believing communion or
church-society. And this not simply because such prayer
hightens the feeling of the unitedness of the faithful, but be
cause, in virtue of the throwing off of personal isolation and
of its flowing out of the holy spirit which pervades the
society, it has a guarantee of greater purity, and consequently
the promise of special blessing [Matt, xviii, 20 ; Acts ii, 42 ;
Eph. v, 19; Col. iii, 16]. — Christ himself gives the moral pat
tern of prayer ; he prayed out of the full consciousness of life-
communion with God, and consequently with full confidence
of being answered [Heb. v, 7] ; he prayed often in solitude ,
[Matt, xiv, 23 ; xxvi, 36, 42 ; Mark vi, 32 ; Luke vi, 12 ; ix, 28],
and often in the presence of others [Matt, xxvi, 39; John
xi, 41 sqq.], and in communion with his disciples [John
xvii, 1 sqq.].
SECTION CXVI.
All prayer is primarily, either expressly or in
virtue of its necessary presuppositions, a confession,
a recognition of God as the unconditional Lord, and
as the all-knowing, all powerful and all-loving Father.
In as far as in it we are always conscious of ourselves
as loved by God, prayer is at the same time also
thanksgiving. In so far as in prayer we have respect
224 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 116.
not only to the past and present, but also to the goal
of moral effort, the realization of which we regard as
not in our own power independently of God, nor yet
in an unfree nature-necessity, but in the will of God
as co-operating with us, prayer becomes petition — the
climax of the inner religiously-moral life, wherein
the true filial relation of man to God finds its ex
pression ; and as the moral end is of a rational, and
hence not merely individual, character, consequently
the petition is essentially also intercession — the highest
religious expression of our love to man. As only the
all-embracing wisdom of God is capable of fully seeing
the appropriateness of earthly things and relations to
the attainment of the highest good, hence the petition
for earthly goods, though per se entirely legitimate,
can never be more than of a humbly conditional
character ; and there is no petition other than that
for the per se unquestionably eternal good, that has
no other condition than the willing, believing tfbe-
dience of the subject. The promise of answering is
based on the condition of believing and of humble
confidence.
Prayer is per se a recognition of God, — it is adoration and
confession both to God as the all-ruling One, and also before
bod as the all-knowing and holy One. In this recognizing
confession itself, there is involved a thanksgiving, which
consequently is included, though it may be but implicitly, in
every prayer; in the Lord's Prayer it lies in the very address.
All thanksgiving [1 Sam. ii ; Psa. cvi, 1 ; Rom. xv, 6 ;
1 Tim. iv, 4, 5; Phil, iv, 6; Col. iii, 17; iv, 2] is at the same
time a petition for the bestowal of the good for which it
is offered ; and the petition is, in virtue of the soul-uniting
filial relation to God, necessarily also intercession for others
and for the whole kingdom of God [Matt, vi, 10; John
xvii, 9 gyq.; Eph i, 16; vi, 18; 1 Tim. ii, 1-3; Col. i, 9;
§ 116.] PURE ETHICS. 225
iv, 3; Phil, i, 4; James v, 16; Heb. xiii, 18]. So long as
prayer remains of a merely individual character, it cornea
short of true prayer, — rests not yet on a consciousness of the
filial relation to God, for this consciousness is inconsistent
with self-seeking exclusiveness ; the children of God have
their home only in the kingdom of God.
Prayer as petition is the profoundest enigma for the-merely
wordly finitely-occupied understanding ; for the religious
heart, however, it is the beginning and the center of the spirit
ual life. He who cannot offer petitions to God i§ not of God.
All intellectual doubts as to the nature and efficacy of peti
tioning prayer, have as their back-ground a doubt of the per
sonality of God, although they may assume to be a vindication
of the eternal order of the world. A God who cannot answer
petitions is not a personal spirit, but only an unconscious
nature-force. In the believin r petition the Scriptures promise
answers [Psa. 1, 15 ; x, 17 ; xxii, 4, 5 ; xxxiv, 15 ; Ixii, 1 sqq. ;
Ixv, 2; xciv, 9; cii, 17; cxlv, 18, 19; Prov. xv, 8; Isa. Ixv,
24 ; Matt, vii, 7 ; xviii, 19 ; xxi, 22 ; John ix, 31 ; xvi, 23, 24 ;
1 John iii, 22; v, 14; James i, 5 ; iv, 8; v, 13-18; 1 Pet.
iii, 12] ; to the impious and foolish petition they refuse it
[Job xxvii, 9 ; xxxv, 13 ; Psa. Ixvi, 18 ; Prov. xv, 8, 29 ; xxviii, 9 ;
Isa. i, 15 ; John ix, 31 ; James iv, 3, and others] ; and confi
dent faith in an answer is itself the condition of the answer
[Mark xi, 24 ; James i, 6, 7], As the fuller development of the
subject belongs to dogmatics, we here subjoin but a few gen
eral observations. The answering of prayer is not uncondi
tional ; it is conditioned, on the one hand, on the loving
wisdom of God, which is higher than that of man [Eph.
iii, 20], and, on the other, on the prayer-spirit of him who
prays. And the answer is not a merely seeming one, so that
prayer would be superfluous, but .the answer is given on the
basis and in virtue of the prayer [Luke xi, 5-13; xviii,
1 sqq., — the lesson of which is, that if earnest prayer is effect
ual even with unloving men, how much more is it so with the
all-loving One who gladly hears such petitions; Gen. xviii,
^ sqq.; Exod. xxxii, 9 sqq.; Num. xiv, 13 sqq., 20; xvi,
20 sqq.; Isa. xxxviii]. Prayer does not change the eternal
counsel of God ; this counsel is itself not unconditional, but it
is determined by the all-knowing One in view of the free con-
VOL. 11—16
226 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 116.
duct of his .creatures; and, consequently, one element of it is,
that prayer is eternally destined to be answered. Every pious
prayer is answered, although only in the manner most whole
some to him who offers it, and hence not always in the special
manner in which the answer is expected [2 Cor. xii, 8, 9. ] If
man deceives himself as to the sought good, still he receives
the good, — not, however, the false one which he had in mind,
but the true one which he had in heart. Hence no believing
prayer, in so far as it relates to earthly goods, can be or
should be m<5re than a conditional petition, and the manner
of the fulfillment must be submitted to the wisdom of God.
If even Christ prays in this conditional manner to the Father
[Matt, xxvi, 39, 42 ; Luke xxii, 42], by how much more should
man so pray, whose knowledge is so limited ; true faith is in
fact a confidence that God knows best what serves for our
peace, and brings it about ; childlikeness and humble confi
dence give power and truth to prayer [Rom. viii, 15 ; Gal.
iv, 6]. Under this condition, prayer for particular earthly
goods is not only allowed to man, but is also willed by God
and with promise of answering [Matt, vi, 11 ; vii, 7 sqq. ; Phil,
iv, 5, 6; Eph. vi, 18; James v, 14 sqq.}; and the confidence
of obtaining the object sought, even in such special petitions
rises to confident assurance wherever the prayer goes forth
from a complete life-communion with God, and in the power
of the Holy Ghost, — wherever it is prayer " in spirit and in
truth " [John iv, 24 ; Rom. viii, 26, 27 : Gal. iv, 6 ; Eph. vi, 18;
comp. John xiv, 13; xvi, 23J; for, the more complete the
union of the pious heart with God, so much the more does it
partake of the illuminating power of God, and God's knowl
edge of the future begets in him who partakes of God's
Spirit a presentiment of the divine counsel in regard to him;
and the presentiment rises to a prayerful longing, an unshaken
faith ; and the true petition to a prophecy. The fulfillment of
the petition is felt by anticipation in the prayer itself; he
who truly prays is a rjrophet; and God is the fulfiller of the
prophecy, because he is the author of the counsel. Here also
Christ himself furnishes the pattern: "Father, I thank thee
that thou hast heard me," etc. [John xi, 41]; his prayer re
lated to what he had already prophetically beholden and pre
dicted [verses 11, 23], The primary and most essential
§ 117. PURE ETHICS. 227
element of true prayer is, of course, the petition for the filial
relation to God and for the coming of the kingdom of God
[Matt, vi, 10, 12; John xvii, 15; Luke xi, 13]. Man should
beware, however, of sinning in prayer itself; but by self-
seeking narrowness he does this ; to pray in the spirit of God,
is to pray for the kingdom of God. Model prayers are the
Lord's Prayer and the high-priestly prayer of Christ.
As God's eternal decree to answer prayer is conditioned on
the actuality of the prayer, hence prayer is not simply moral
appropriation, but also, though not in a direct and strict
sense, moral forming, seeing that, though indeed not God
himself, yet in fact the particular temporal manifestation of
his world-government, is conditioned on prayer. God's
essence is indeed not subject to change ; his doing and acting
in the world, however, are, in virtue of his righteous love
conditioned on the free conduct of his rational creatures, and
hence also on prayer. The real forming, however, which is
directly connected with prayer relates to the personal re
ligiously-moral being of the subject. The blessing efficacy of
prayer beams back from God upon the offerer, namely, in that
in virtue of the prayer not only his being in God comes more
vividly to his consciousness, and has a more efficacious in
fluence, but also God's being in him comes to a higher reality.
Faith in prayer and in the answering of prayer, heighten the
divine life of the children of God.
SECTION CXVII.
2. The negating and rather virtual phase of the
service of God, is the actual or symbolical manifesting
of the real or conditional vanity of earthly things and
relations, as contrasted with God or with the God-
loving, pious state of the heart, namely, in sacrifice,
the essence of which is self-denial or renunciation.
In the unfallen state of man sacrifice consists essen
tially simply in a free giving-up of that which is
naturally pleasurable, out of regard to the divine will
and for the sake of the higher good, the moral end ;
228 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§H7-
hence it consists in the subordinating and giving up
of earthly desire. The appropriating of the divine
requires the rejection of all that is ungodly, and
therein the person accomplishes, at the same time, a
high moral culture of himself.
As contrasted with the highest good and with God, every
thing finite appears as relatively empty and void ; the actual
manifesting of this nullity, out of love to the divine, is sacri
fice, — a notion that is fundamental to all religions, and that
constitutes the focal point of all religious life, and which is
still recognizable even in the most utter perversions of the
truth.* There is no love without sacrifice; the higher the
love, so much the higher the readiness to sacrifice for the sake
of the beloved ; sacrifice is the test of love ; maternal love
sacrifices repose and enjoyment for the sake of the child ; this
is not figurative language, — the sacrifice is real and true. As
God's highest love expresses itself in the giving up of his
Son, so man's love to God is manifested in the sacrificing of
that to the enjoyment of which man has in general a right.
As, however, in the sinless state of humanity, there would
exist no really untrue and vain object from which man would
have actually to turn away in moral abhorrence, but only a
merely relatively such, namely, the merely natural and transi
tory as in contradistinction to the spiritual, hence in this case
sacrifice would not consist in the destruction of an entity, but
in the renunciation of an enjoyment, an abstaining from the
merely worldly. In the interest of his spiritual freedom, of
his moral growth, man is not to give himself over to nature,
but must by obedience renounce some degree of the enjoyment
of nature and of his personal discretion. He is to sacrifice
whatever tempts him from God, whatever binds him to the
merely natural or to the non-divine ; also of unfallen man it
was required that he should realize his spiritual freedom by
the free renunciation of a merely natural enjoyment. Christ's
fasting in the wilderness was not a part of his atoning self-
sacrifice, and yet it was a sacrifice on the part of the Son of
* See Wuttke's Gesch. des Heident. I, pp. 127 sqq., 268 sqq.t 311 / //,
pp. 64, 343 sqq, 547 sqq.
§ 111.] PURE ETHICS. 229
man, even as was also required of unfallen man. In yielding
himself to enjoyment without moral discrimination, man loses
hold on the spiritual ; he must renounce in order to be free.
In the unfallen state sacrifice has essentially an educative end
and a symbolical form. God certainly did not forbid man to
eat of the designated tree because it was a bad tree, for to sin
less beings there could be nothing evil in the entire circle of
God-made nature ; but in his educative wisdom, God required
of man a sacrifice, for the simple reason that no moral life is
possible without self-restraint, no religious life without sacri
fice. Man stands in the presence of nature and God, both are
good ; but nature is a created object and may not be placed
on an equal footing with God. When man enjoys nature for
its own sake and without reference to God, he sins ; for he
ought to belong, not to nature, but to God. Hence he should
recognize, and manifest in moral acts, the truth that nature
per se is not the true being and the true goal of moral aspira
tion, namely, the highest good, but only a means to this end.
Hence his moral relation to nature and to the sensuous, is, as
in contrast to his relation to God, of a negative character.
This "no" in regard to nature, man pronounces morally
when he subordinates his relation to nature to his higher rela
tion to God, when he says to sensuous desire: "Thou mayest
not, shalt not absorb and dominate my thinking and willing ; "
he must freely hold in. check the merely sensuous, for the
sake of the spiritual, — must restrain himself from the former
in order that he may possess and perfect himself as a moral
spirit, and that he may rise to spiritual-mindedness.
It is the antagonism of the spirit to the flesh that lies at the
basis of sacrifice ; in the interest of the spiritual, the spirit
sacrifices the fleshly. Also man as normal and not yet sinful,
had to crucify his flesh with the affections and lusts thereof
[Gal. v, 24], although this flesh and its desires were not yet
immoral ; but to have sought the flesh as an end, as a good,
would have been sinful ; and God put upon him a requirement
of abnegation in order that he might recognize and actually
learn this fact, — that he might break away from the merely
sensuous, and develop in himself the image of God. Simple
obedience to this requirement, without a why or wherefore,
was the purest and best of sacrifices. This Paradisaical gerrn
230 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 117.
of all sacrifice is, therefore, self-denial in obedience to God, a
renouncing not a destroying, a giving up, out of love to the
spirit, of that which is dear to the flesh ; and this idea per
vades all forms of sacrifice, even the emphatic sin-offering;
only that which'is dear to man can be to him a sacrifice ; and
because of the simple fact that the first man would not bring
the light sacrifice required of him, it became necessary for
him afterward to make severer ones; and from the hour of the
fall and thenceforth the morally-religious consciousness of
humanity finds satisfaction only in a series of progressively
more violent and more terrible sacrifices, culminating in
the offering of human victims, and that too not merely
among the rude, but even among the most civilized of gen
tile nations.
In the idea of sacrifice it is always implied that that which
the person gives up is per se good and right, that primarily he
has a right to its enjoyment, but that he gives it up for the
sake of a higher end ; to give up that which is per se bad, is
not to sacrifice ; the offering that was presented to Jehovah
had to be pure and spotless ; and the worth of the sacrifice
rises with the worth of the object offered. Thus, sensuous
enjoyment is per se good, but it must be restrained and limited,
and often refused, in order that not it but the rational spirit
may be the master. But man has also to bring, in the inter
est of the moral, purely spiritual sacrifices. It was not the
sensuous per se that was the temptation to Eve, but the repre
sentation made to her that the tree would render her ' ' wise ; "
it was her duty, as it is the duty of man in general, to re
nounce the desire of obtaining from the creature that wisdom
which only God can impart — which can be learned only in
believing obedience to God.
The sacrifice that was required of unfallen man implied in
its renunciation at the same time, a confession, namely, to
God as the highest good and the highest love, and this
again implied thankfulness for the love received in com
munion with God. Inasmuch as every good gift is from
God hence the thank-offering of the believer can only be
symbolical, expressive of his readiness to give up in the
interest of the eternal even that which is dearest of all to
him, in the consciousness that in the communion with God
§117.] "PURE ETHICS. 281
for whom it is given up, the real and true life is in fact pre
served ; in the presence of God none is to appear empty [Exod.
xxiii, 15; xxxiv, 20].
Sacrifice appears in the Old Testament in its more definite
form as early as in the case of Cain and Abel ; we find no
indication of its express, institution by God ; and we might
therefore regard it as an immediate and natural expression of
the religious consciousness ; however, a positive divine pre
scription is the more pro cable. It is certainly not probable that
sacrifice was first made from a consciousness of guilt; the
offerings of Cain and Abel, consisting of the products of the
field and of the flock, seem rather to be thank-offerings than
sin-offerings ; Abel's bloody offering is expressly designated
[Gen. iv, 4] by the word minchah (present, gift) by which are
subsequently designated the bloodless thank-offerings in con
tradistinction to the bloody, and, for the most part, atoning
offerings, namely, the sebachim; the offering of Noah appears
expressly as a thank-offering [viii, 20] The burning up of
the material of the sacrifice signifies the renunciation and the
eradication of the earthly desires of him who sacrifices ; the
pure heavenward-mounting sacrificial flame symbolizes the
exaltation of the heart from the earthly to the heavenly, —
the union with God. Thus sacrifice becomes a symbol of the
alliance of man with God ; and in the case of Noah and the
patriarchs, a sign of the Covenant, and hence also a sign of
the union of the Israelites who escaped from Egypt, into one
people [Exod. iii, 12]. And, therefore, subsequently in the
fully-developed sacrificial service of a sinful people, the
essence of the sacrifice was in fact not placed in the out
ward rite, but in the submission of the heart, in the renun
ciation of an earthly self-seeking mind, in the complete giv
ing up of all earthly love for God's sake [Gen. xxii, 16] ;
obedience is better than [outward] sacrifice; God-pleasing
sacrifices are a broken spirit and a contrite heart, and " to do
justice and judgment is more acceptable to the Lord than
sacrifice" [1 Sara, xv, 22; Psa. xl, 6; 1, 8-15; li, 16, 17, 18;
Hos. vi, 6; Eccl. iv, 17; Prov. xxi, 3, 27; Isa. i, 11; Jer. vi,
20; comp. Matt, ix, 13; xii, 7; Mark xii, 33]. In the case of
the very first sacrifices God warns man against the error of
supposing that the essence of the sacrifice lies in the outward
232 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 118.
act; Abel's offering He graciously accepts, that of Cain He
disregards. Sacrifice is an appropriating of the divine, inas
much as in the turning away from the non-divine there is
necessarily implied a turning to the divine.
SECTION CXVHL
The, moral sparing of the divine, has direct refer
ence not to God himself, but to the forms under
which He is revealed. Every thing whereby God
becomes for us is sacred as distinguished from mere
ly created objects per se. . In the unfallen state of
humanity all created objects are at the same time
also sacred, namely, in so far as they are considered an
expression of the divine will ; and whatever is sacred
is in the highest degree an object of moral sparing, —
should be treated as sacred. This sparing springs
from moral humility, — is an express respecting of the
sacred in virtue of a holy awe, springing from a
lively consciousness, on the one hand, of the divine
glory even in the humbler forms of its manifestation,
and, on the other, of our own existence as a limited
one and as resting solely on divine grace. The
objects of this sacred awe. and hence of moral spar-,
ing, are both the immediate, full and actual self-
revelations of God, and also all mediating instru
mentalities of His revelation and communication, as
well as also every thing that relates to the reverencing
of God on the part of man.
The distinction between the sacred and the non-sacred is,
for the unfallen state, of a merely conditional character ; it
is in fact, simply the same thing considered under two
phases; in all things we can behold both the created and the
Creator. He who is truly pious sees himself every-where sur
rounded by the sacred, — he prays to God not merely in the
§ 118.] PURE ETHICS. 233
temple of Jerusalem, or on Mount Gerizirn, but every-where in
spirit and in truth. Now, in so far as objects that are
imbued with the divine are temporal and finite, they are
capable of being abused and desecrated, — hence the moral
duty of sparing. The direction of God to Moses on occasion
of the revelation in the burning bush [Exod. iii, 5], suggests
the proper moral bearing of man; he must put away from
himself all that bears upon itself the character of the com
mon, the unholy, the dross of earth. The duty of sparing, as
relating to the sacred, is not a mere . non-doing, but, like
every other form of this duty, it is a self-restraining out of
regard to the higher right of the sacred object; a sparing
from mere indifference would be sinful.
The objects of this sparing are: (1) The immediate per
sonal revelations of God himself. Here there is no room for
a mere passive bearing ; here the mere non-doing, the mere
not respecting the divine presence, is an offending of God
himself ; and moral sparing passes over at once into adoring
reverence ; here the declaration of Christ holds good : ' ' He
that is not for me is against me;" the not-concerning our
selves about God is a dishonoring of God. — (2) God's revelation
and self-communication through his Word should be recog
nized as absolutely sacred, and distinguished in every respect
from whatever is merely human and natural ; it is disesteemed
and dishonored by doubt, unbelief, and disobedience, and by
trifling or irreverent use, by ridicule or neglect; the divine
Word as sacred is to be treated entirely differently from the
merely human ; it calls for unconditional faith and reverent
submission. — (3) The name of God [Exod. iii, 14] and other
symbolical designations of God must be treated with sacred
awe and sparing, — may not be associated with the common
and thus subjected to irreverent use, may not be misused in
sport, or frivolity, or for deception [Exod. xx, 7; Lev. xix,
12; xxii, 32; Matt. vi. 9]. A name is not a mere empty
sound; it is the body of a thought; and as the human body
is not an object of indifference for the spirit, and as to dis
honor it is to insult the spirit, so also is a misusing of the
divine name a dishonoring of God himself. In the awe of the
Jews as to the pronouncing of the name of Jehovah, there
lay a deep moral significancy, though indeed this peculiarity
234 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 118.
rendered also possible an outward evasion of the command
itself. That the precept to revere God's name appears as one
of the chief commandments of the Mosaic law, evinces its
high moral importance. Where there exists reverential love,
there the name of the beloved will not be desecrated by
trifling-ness and frivolous sport. And what is true of the
name is also true of all symbols of God, as, for example, in
the Ancient Covenant, of the covering of the ark of the Cov
enant (the mercy-seat), of the pillar of fire, etc. In a more
general sense every form of sin is a dishonoring of the name
and image of God, inasmuch as man himself bears God's
name and image in himself, and should therefore spare and
respect these in his own person [comp. Rom. ii, 24] ; and all
morality may be summed up in the keeping sacred of the
divine image in ourselves, — as expressed by Jehovah: "Ye
shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy " [Lev.
xi, 44], or in the words of Peter: " Sanctify the Lord God in
your hearts" [1 Pet. iii, 15]. — (4) The human organs of divine
revelation, the prophets and the called heralds of the divine
Word in general, have a moral right to reverential sparing,
though this sparing refers essentially not to them as men,
but to God in whose name they speak. [Psa. cv, 15 ; Matt, x,
40, 41; comp. xi, 49-51; 1 Thes. v, 12, 13; Ileb. xiii, 17] ; the
persecuting and killing of the prophets is frequent ly spoken
of in Scripture as among the most heinous of offenses. Also
in a sinless development of humanity all those would be
regarded in .the light of prophets of God, who, having
attained to higher spiritual knowledge, should bear witness
of divine truth; they would stand not strictly on an equal
footing with those whom they should .teach and train; and
their recognition as divine messengers would beget a greater
willingness to give heed to them. Wherever there is a really
moral communion, there the ministers of God are honored ;
not to respect them is a sign of deep moral declension ; but the
deepest degradation of all is where they themselves do not
respect their calling. No prophet of God was ever without
moral self-denial and constant humiliation before God, —
without the deeply felt consciousness of Moses : " Who am I
that I should go unto Pharaoh, and bring forth the children
§ 118.] PURE ETHICS. 235
of Israel out of Egypt ? " — but also no prophet of God was
ever without the sacred right to be recognized and respected
as God's messenger, provided only that he be found faithful.
— (5) All that relates to the worshiping of God, — the holy
seasons, places, and things, are, as sacred, to be distinguished
from the non-sacred, and to be honored accordingly, and not
to be placed on an equal footing with that which serves only
temporal, individual ends. The Sabbath is to be treated
quite otherwise than the day of labor ; it has a right to be
respected, for it is God's day, set apart to his special service.
Its celebration by actual divine worship is only one of its
phases, the other is its being sacredly spared. Every thing is
to be avoided on the Sabbath which disturbs the devout
frame of the soul, — attracts it back to the merely earthly and
sensuous, impresses upon it a mere every-day character. He
who does not honor the day of the Lord, honors also not the
Lord of the day. Holy places and things, being consecrated
to heavenly purposes, should not be profaned to worldly
entertainment and to merely temporal uses. Though we do
not recognize any mystic power in a special consecration, yet
we hold fast to the principle that holy places and things
belong exclusively to the service of the Lord. God himself
ordained, in the Old Testament, particular sacred things and
a special consecration of them [Exod. xxv, sqq. ; xxx, 22 sqq.].
Even as the "burning bush" [Exod. iii, 5] and the mount of
legislation and the holy of holies in the temple were sepa
rated from all that was not sacred, so also is it with every
place that is dedicated to the holy One [Lev. x^x, 30]. The
significancy of this setting apart, and the importance of
this respecting of the sacred, increase with the actuality
of sin.
Note. God cannot of course be an object of moral forming
in the strict sense of the word. Though prayer is in fact a
moral influencing of God, inasmuch as it finds hearing, still
no change is thereby wrought in God, and that which is real
ized by the efficacy of prayer is not so much in God as in us
and in the world. But in a remote sense we may speak of a
forming of the divine, namely, in so far as God is expressed
in sacred symbols and in sacred art, and in so far as, by our
witnessings for God, the knowledge and love of God are im-
236 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 119.
planted in the souls of men ; all this, however, is in reality
simply a forming of the finite and the human into an image
of God, and not a 'forming of God himself.
II. THE MOEAL ACTIVITY, IN RELATION TO THE
MORAL PERSON HIMSELF.
SECTION CXIX.
(a) The duty of moral sparing is here the preserv
ing of one's own existence and of its normal pecul
iarity and development, as prompted by a conscious
ness of the divine will, and hence also the warding
off of all therewith-conflicting and disturbing or
destroying influences on the part of nature or of the
spiritual world. To this end it is necessary that in
all things the true relation of the body, as a serving
power, to the rational spirit, as the dominating power,
be preserved, and that the image of God, which
though originally inherent in man. is yet in need of
fuller development, be preserved pure even in its
corporeally-symbolical manifestation.
The moral sparing of one's self is the higher moral applica
tion of a law* that pervades the entire totality of being. That
which is cohesion in a nature-body, and the law of gravita
tion in the natural world in general, and the instinct of self-
defense and of self-preservation in the animal world, becomes
with man a moral duty. When man seeks to preserve him
self, to ward off injury and death, out of mere natural instinct,
his action is not yet moral ; it becomes moral only when it
springs from a consciousness that it is God's will, — that God
has pleasure in our existence as his own creative work, that
He has a purpose in us which we are morally to fulfill. Of a
duty of self-destruction there can never be any possibility;
and for a duty of entire self-sacrifice, of the giving up of life
for the sake of a higher end, there is, in a state of sm-
§ 120.] PURE ETHICS. 237
lessness, also no possibility ; otherwise the divine government
would be in anarchy. God who gave existence to man wills
also its preservation, — has willed it as a moral end, and not
simply as a means to an end. Death is simply the wages of
sin, and not a condition of virtue, save alone where on ac
count of sin there is need of a sacrifice.
In a sinless state the duty of self-sparing is of easy fulfill
ment, partly for the reason that it corresponds to a natural
law immanent in all living creatures, and partly because dis
turbing influences are conceivable only where they are occa
sioned by the fault of man himself, — for example, when he
presumptuously exposes himself to such natural influences as
he is not yet able to resist, — which is in fact possible seeing
that, also for the unf alien state, the complete mastery over
nature is presented as a condition yet to be attained to by
moral effort. Also from the influence of spiritual beings an
injuring of the moral person is possible, so long as the rational
creature has not as yet attained to its ultimate perfection, so
that here also there is place for the duty of watchfulness, in
order that the diverse personalities that are as yet in process
of development may not act hinderingly upon each other.
And this duty of sparing watchfulness is still more increased
when the moral person stands no longer in the presence of
simply sin-free beings, but is assaulted by spiritual temptation,
as in the case of Adam and Eve ; here the duty of self-pre
serving sparing assumes at once the form of a positive ward
ing off. — In the Scriptures the duty of sparing one's self, even
in relation to the corporeal life, is presented as per se strictly
valid; " no man ever yet hated his own flesh, but nourisheth
and cherishetlTit, even as the Lord the church" [Eph. v, 29].
Man is also to exercise this duty of sparing in view of his own
possible sinning ; in protecting his moral innocence, man pro
tects also the image of God as created in him.
SECTION CXX.
(J) Moral appropriating is, as regards the moral
person himself, directly at the same time also a moral
/"arming of the person into a progressively more per
fect expression of the moral idea, — into a personally-
238 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 120.
peculiar realization of the moral end ; and in pro
portion as the moral person appropriates to itself its
own self, puts itself into possession of itself, it accom
plishes upon itself also a moral forming.
(1) Not the body is to appropriate to itself the
spirit, but the spirit is progressively more and more
to appropriate to itself the body, and to form it, and
thereby also to form itself; hence the spirit alone is
the appropriating factor, and the body is simply to
be appropriated and formed. Even as nature stands
to God in a twofold relation, namely, in that, on the
one hand, God accomplishes his will in it, makes it
good, and, on the other, reveals himself through it,
makes it into his image, into an object of beauty, so
also has the body in relation to the spirit the twofold
destination of being its organ and its image • the
former it becomes essentially by particular forming,
the latter by general forming (§§ 109, 110).
(a) The body is formed and appropriated to itself
by the spirit as its true absolutely subservient organ,
in that (1) it is strengthened and rendered apt in
accomplishing every service for the rational will,
through the mediating and carrying out of all appro
priating and forming action of the rational spirit as
bearing upon the external world ; (2) in that, in its
sensuous impulses, it is held under the discipline of
the spirit, and is never allowed to have an independ
ent fight for itself; in both these respects realizes
itself the complete domination of the spirit over the
body.
It is characteristic of the true moral nature of man, that he
is capable, not merely, as is the case with the brute, of appro
priating and forming external objects, but also himself. The
brute is formed by nature, not by itself, and it appropriates
§ 120.] PURE ETHICS. 239
to itself only nature, but not itself; but man in his first-
given condition does not as yet really have himself, but must
first learn to possess himself, — must attain to moral ownership
of .himself.
Man virtualizes his god-likeness primarily in this, that he
glorifies God even in his body as the temple of ihe Holy
Ghost [1 Cor. vi, 19, 20], and that he presents this body to
God as a living, holy, and well-pleasing sacrifice [Rom. xii, 1.]
The preliminary manifold dependence of the spirit on the
body, and through the body also on external nature, is to be
overcome and changed into spiritual freedom ; the spirit is
itself to make the body truly its own body, to appropriate it to
itself as a moral possession, to form it into the perfect organ
of the spirit, — in a certain sense, to create it spiritually. The
original foreignness of the body to the spirit is to be overcome ;
its as yet partially-actual independence is to be broken ; the
body is to be thoroughly permeated by the spirit, and all that
is merely objective' and unfree in it, to be done away with.
The dominion of the spirit over nature, which is set before it
as a moral goal, is to realize itself first on its own nature,
that is, on the body. That this is a moral task is plainly in
dicated by nature itself. The brute is much earlier self-
supporting and mature than man, and needs no training in
order to attain to its greatest skill; all the skill that man
attains to he has to get by learning, to acquire by moral
effort ; and all learning is an appropriating through conscious
ness; man must in some manner first comprehend his body,
before he can really form it and take it under his control ; he
who is spiritually dull usually remains also physically clumsy ;
man as coming from the hands of nature is the most helpless
and most unskillful of creatures ; all that he ever becomes is
by the spirit, — by free moral activity; that his nascent life is
much more helpless than that of any of the animals, is simply
an incident of his high moral dignity. That which he has from
nature is indeed good, but if it remains as mere unspiritual-
ized, undominated nature, then it becomes for him evil, — be
comes something of which he is to be asTwtmed. This render
ing the body skillful is a personally-particular forming — a
working of the spirit upon the body ; thereby the spirit forms
the body into its own true possession ; it aspires to have it
240 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 120.
for itself, to have it entirely in its control. Herein consists
also the true particular appropriating, the enjoying, of the
body ; man enjoys it when he has it fully in his power. This
is the secret of the rich enjoyment of young persons, when,
in free corporeal movement, in skillful playing, in skating, in
rhythmical muscular action, etc., they feel themselves mas
ters over their bodies ; it is the consciousness of freedom,
of acquired mastery; for, all consciousness of mastery is a
feeling of happiness, and that, too, a per se legitimate one.
Man is to form and appropriate to himself his body in two
respects ; for as a spirit he stands to the outer world in the
double relation of receiving and of influencing, — through the
senses and through the organs of motion. The cultivation
of the senses is more an appropriating than a real forming; the
senses must first be brought under the control of the spirit ;
the seaman and the huntsman have not always a really sharper
natural eye than others, but their seeing is more skilled, —
they see many objects from which others may indeed receive
exactly the same light-impressions, but yet not actually per
ceive them, for the reason that they overlook them; seeing is
an art, and many, though with open eyes, see comparatively
little. An uncultured person hears, in a beautiful piece of
music, little more than confused sounds, for the reason that
he does not know how to hear. It is a moral duty of man to
develop his senses to perfection, fully to appropriate them to
himself, for they were given to him by God as channels
through which to appropriate to himself the outer world ;
and it is unthankfulness to God for man to be willing to see
and hear little or nothing in God's nature, — for him to have
no open eyes for the glory of God as resplendent in crea
tion, and no ear for the beautiful harmonies of nature and art.
Rudeness and unculture are sinful in every respect, and hence
also in respect to the senses.
The appropriating training of the organs of motion to
vigorous skillfulness, not merely as a pleasure but also as a
duty, is brought about under normal circumstances not so
much by calculating art as by spontaneous natural activity ;
and it takes place chiefly during youth. While it was an
error of many former educators entirely to neglect the train
ing of the body to skillfulness and grace, still, on the other
§ 120.] PURE ETHICS. 241
hand, there is danger of overestimating the worth of regu
lated gymnastics. The unnatural physical life of our city
populations may render necessary a systematic process of
corporeal exercise, notwithstanding its manifold unesthetic
and even repulsive joint-wrenchings ; but where the young
people can have scope for indulging in more natural and
frolicksome muscular recreation, regular gymnastics are doubt
less quite superfluous ; the learned cramming of overcrowded
schools needs them indeed as a sanitary complement, but it is
dangerous to substitute mere medicine for daily bread. It is
a morbid condition of society, when that to which nature it
self prompts us has to be made a school-requirement.
The complete subordinating of the sensuous impulses to the
discipline of the spirit, that is, the training of the body by the
spirit to temperateness in respect to all sensuous enjoyments,
and to such activity as is necessary to its being a proper organ
for the spirit, is also, at the same time, an appropriating and a
forming ; the members are to be formed into ' ' instruments of
righteousness unto God " [Rom. vi, 12, 13]. Paul represents the
complete dependence of the body on the moral spirit as a
dependence, not on the merely individual spirit, but on the
spirit as morally subordinating itself to God. Man, as
consecrated to God, is not to permit the per se legitimate
caring for his body to become a fostering of the sensuous de
sires [Rom. xiii, 13, 14], but is strictly to subordinate the
nurturing of the body and the indulgence in sensuous enjoy
ments to the rational purposes of the moral spirit, so that
they shall simply be means for the spirit and never ends, in
themselves [Luke xxi, 34; Rom. xiv, 17 ; Eph. v, 18; 1 Thess.
v, 6 ; 1 Tim. iii, 2 ; Tit. ii, 1 sqq. ; 1 Pet. iv, 7, 8]. Temperate-
ness, however, does not imply the taking of the least possible
quantity of food and drink, nor indeed indifference to the
sensuous pleasures of the table ; this would in fact be un-
thankfulness toward the goodness of God who has prepared
for us also this pleasure ; it does, however, require the observ
ance of that measure which is conditioned on the needs and
health of the body, and on the properly understood social re
lations of the person. Excessive indulgence is not only a
degradation of the person himself, but also uucharitablenesa
toward the destitute.
VOL. 11—17
242 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 121.
SECTION CXXI.
(J) The body is to be formed into an image or
symbol of the rational spirit, — to become a revelation
of the spirit in the external world ; that is, it is to be
shaped into an object of beauty, into a spiritualized
expression of the moral personality. This takes
place : (1) immediately, — in that the body, without
the express and conscious activity of the person, is
formed into a true expression of the morally-cultured
spirit ; (2) mediately, — in that the body, which though
per se possessing the highest nature-beauty, is yet not
to remain in simply that state, is formed by means
of a spiritually-expressive characterizing adornment
into an expression of artistic beauty, — into a sym
bolical expression not merely of the spiritual in gen
eral, but also of the personally-moral character in
particular, — and in that, with moral carefulness, it
is kept free from whatever would present it in the
light of an object that is disesteemed or given over
to natural unfreedom, and cast off by the spirit, — the
virtue of cleanliness. Adornment, both under its
positive and its negative phase, is a moral duty, not
merely out of regard to others, as the true moral pres
entation and revelation of self to others, but also out
of regard to the moral person himself.
The natural perfection of the body is not yet the true, — is
to be exalted from natural beauty to spiritual. As the spirit
exists primarily only in a germinal form, hence the body can
not, from the very beginning, bear the full impress of the
same ; the spiritual expression of the body is at first not that .
of the personally-formed, but only of the as yet impersonal,
spirit in general. The expression of the countenance becomes
really spiritual, truly beautiful, only by and through a per
sonal character-development, which is, in turn, reflected back
§ 121.] PURE ETHICS. 243
from this personal peculiarity. The spirit must already have
behind it a moral history, before it comes to expression in the
features. A general beauty without character, is meaningless ;
a personally-spiritual beauty is winning and magnetic. The
body becomes truly beautiful only through the complete ap
propriating of the same by, and for, the spirit ; and the true
secret of beauty consists in a genuine spiritual and moral cul
ture. Where falseness has not yet gained firm foothold, there
the countenance is the mirror of the soul; and, for the skilled
look, even disguising falseness is transparent. There lies at
the basis of ' ' physiognomies " a deep truth ; but this truth is
not expressible in definite words and lines. It is not by mere
chance that for certain historic personalities, such as those of
Christ and the more prominent of the apostles, certain very-
definite forms and casts of countenance have found their place
in Christian art, and by which every one recognizes them at
first glance. The true character-expression of the cultured
body is, in some sense, spirit-imbued, — is sensuous and super-
sensuous at the same time; neither words, nor outlines, nor
even the photographic pencil of nature, is capable of repro
ducing it, but only the spirit-guided hand of the artist: spirit
is recognized and grasped only by spirit ; no photograph of a
spiritual, character-imbued face attains to the fidelity of an
artistic portrait. In a sinless state, the beauty of the spirit
would necessarily reveal itself in beauty of body. So also
must it have been in the case of Christ, — and the erroneous
notion that for a time prevailed in the early church, to the
effect that in Christ there had been no physical comeliness,
was soon dissipated by the correct consciousness of Christian
art. The heavenly soul of Christ must have depicted itself in
his countenance [comp. Psa. xlv, 3] ; and the reason why the
children approached Him with glad confidence and shouted :
" Hosanna ! " is doubtless because of a direct impression
which Christ's person made upon them ; children have a won
derful capacity for reading character in the external appear
ance. Female vanity, in laying such great stress on corporeal
beauty, is guilty simply of applying to sinfully-perverted
reality, the thought, that is correct for the unfallen state of
humanity, namely, that beauty of body is evidence of a beau
tiful soul. The moral task in relation to this culture of bodily
244 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§121.
expression, is, happily, not an immediate intentional forming
of the body, but rather the moral forming of the soul, which
then, in turn, of itself impresses itself on the body.
The ornamentation of the body, including the exclusion of
all uncleanliness, is a very important moral duty, and one that
is very definitely emphasized in the Scriptures. On the sub
ject of nudity and clothing, there has been, both from the
moral and from the artistic stand-point, much disputing.
Greek art, in its golden age, represented some of the gods
nude ; at a later period, when it had stooped to the service of
worldliness rather than of religion, it expressed itself predom
inantly in the nude. Still, however, only such gods appear
nude as represent a certain degree of moral and spiritual un
ripeness or sensuousness ; Jupiter, Juno, Minerva, appear
almost always draped ; for spiritually-developed and historical
characters, also among human beings, nudity was an artistic
impossibility. This suggests the true law in the case. Nu
dity represents merely the naturally-beautiful, not the spirit
ually-beautiful, merely the human in general, not the personal
in particular, — is that which is alike in all persons, not that in
which they spiritually differ. That portion of the body which
does not express the merely general, that is, the countenance,
is, in fact, uniformly left free of clothing. The very sense
for the morally-spiritual gives even a stronger expression to
the personal through the medium itself of clothing. Who
could bear the thought of a nude Caesar or Homer ! Christian
art rejected the nude, for the good reason that it had spiritual
characters to represent. Moreover, mere nudity is artistically
beautiful only in the form of lust-repellent, colorless sculpture ;
in painting it becomes licentious and, therefore, un-beautiful.
It is a very false opinion, that clothing really conceals beauty ;
clothing, as an expression of the spiritual, as a free artistic
creation, is in fact the higher beauty. This appears very
clearly when man is represented not as an individual, but in
groups; a bathing-place, swarming with nude figures, pre
sents assuredly no beautiful spectacle, even if they were so
many Apollos; precisely where man appears in his higher
truth, namely, in society, there a beautiful scene is presented
only by the help of diversified, character-expressive clothing.
It is true, clothing is beautiful only where it is really express-
§121.] PURE ETHICS. 245
ive of a character, whether of the nation or of the person.
The slavish copying after journals of fashion, is evidence of a
want of sense and of character, and of a lack of esthetic
perception.
Clothing did not first become necessary because of sin. The
Biblical account implies only, that it became necessary pre
maturely, and for another than its normal reason, — namely,
before the development of personal character had led to its
invention as an adornment. The sin of the first pair effected
only that the hitherto-innocent consorts felt, now, shame in
each other's presence, and that clothing, the proper object of
which is ornamentation, was turned into a garb of penance.
Clothing was not the very jf?rs£ want of persons living as yet
in the most primitive simplicity ; nor was yet its lack the char
acteristic trait of the Paradisaical state ; clothing would have
become a moral requirement also in the unfallen state so soon
as man had grown into families, and the riper character of
parents appeared in the presence of children [comp. Gen. ix,
21 sqq.] The nudity of savages is not innocence, but shame
less rudeness.
Animals do not decorate themselves, they are decorated
already ; man exalts himself above the animal by ingenious
decoration. The tawdry ornamentation of savages exemplifies
this, under a rude form ; with them, the mere changing of the
natural form is regarded as a beautifying ; the notion of or
namentation is conceived under an essentially negative form ;
the unnatural itself is regarded as beautiful. There is a
higher significance in the hunter's hanging about himself the
skins of the bear or lion ; — this is to him essentially a decora
tion of honor, a sign of his courage. Thus also, in the simpler
forms of civilized life, it is an honor for a woman personally
to weave and to prepare her own clothing and that of the
family ; it is natural for man to display his work, the fruit of
his skill ; but he also loves to manifest his spiritual idiosyn
crasy under an esthetic form in the ornamentation of the body.
Clothing and ornamentation in general, when of a normal
character, manifest, in part, the general element, the natural
peculiarity, and, in part, the personal peculiarity; hence in
the style of the clothing we can to a certain extent recog
nize the personal character ; the distinction between male and
246 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 121.
female clothing among all civilized nations has a deep moral
ground [comp. Deut. xxii, 5] ; and just as, on the one hand, it
is usually foolish and vain for an individual to break entirely
with a general national custom, so, on the other, it is evidence
of spiritual imbecility to make one's entire outward appear
ance a piece of mere imitation, without personal peculiarity.
The Scriptures attach some importance to a befitting
adornment, especially in its moral significancy. Jehovah
himself prescribes a worthy garb for those who officiate in
his worship [Exod. xxviii and xxxix; Num. xv, 38 sqq.]; a
holy adornment becomes those who offer worship to the
Lord [Psa. xxix, 2; comp. Exod. xix, 10; Ezek. xxiv, 17].
When Christ in his parable [Matt, xxii, 2 sqq.] characterizes
the not putting on of the wedding-garment as a serious fault, lie
manifestly does more than allude to a mere worthless custom
[comp. Gen. xli, 14]; and the apostle does not consider it
unimportant to commend to the societies a becoming adorn
ment [1 Tim. ii, 9, 10].
That cleanliness of body and of clothing is regarded not
only in the Old Testament [Exod. xix, 10 ; xxix, 4 ; Lev. viii,
66; Num. viii, 6 sqq. ; xxxi, 21 sqq. ; comp. Prov. xxxi, 25],
but also in all the higher heathen religions and in Islamism,
as an important moral and religious duty, so that in fact a
large part of the worship consists in washings, with direct
symbolical reference to moral purification, — is a plain indica
tion of the deep moral significancy of bodily purity. The
sanitary interest is here merely incidental"; the essential point
is the outward expressing of the spiritual. Man is to bear, in
his entire inner nature, as well as in his outward manifesta
tion, a spiritually-moral impress, — is to be, in all respects, an
expression of free self-determination, is" to have upon himself
nothing which has attached itself to him merely outwardly
or fortuitously, as something belonging not to him, but to an
extraneous nature-body, — is to be a purely spiritual creation.
Uncleanliness is the expression of unfree nature, — of a depend
ent, passive belonging to mere outward nature, an evidence
of self-abandonment, self-disesteem and dishonor, and is
regarded among all cultivated nations as a symbol and actual
indication of sin ; it lias never been any tiling other than isolated
spiritual perversions of humanity who have foimd an especial
§122.] PURE ETHICS. 247
wisdom and greatness of soul in an open display of uncleanli-
ness. Sensual pleasure-seeking, riotousuess and moral degra
dation usually lead to corporeal filthiness; and it is a very
wise principle of education in the case of the morally aban
doned, and in missions among rude tribes, to place a very
high value on bodily cleanliness. The precepts as to cleans
ing, in the Old Testament, are based on this ground ; Chris
tianity expressly declares carefulness about outward cleanli
ness as a virtue intimately connected with religion [Matt, vi,
17; comp. John xiii, 4 sqq.].
To the gracefulness and beauty of the physique, belongs
also that manner of movement or bearing which answers to the
spiritual character, to beauty of soul ; the cultivation of
skillfulness of movement leads directly to the culture of
esthetical motion. The beauty of movement consists in the
fact that it expresses the perfect mastery of the soul over the
body, and thus presents, in the body, not merely the organ of
the will, but also, through the element of the beautiful, an
image of the self -harmonious spirit, — in youth an expression of
heart-gladness, in age that of earnest dignity. The dance is
esthetic only in youth, in the mature it is repulsive.
SECTION CXXII.
(2) Moral appropriating and forming, as bearing
upon the spirit itself, that is, the .moral striving of
the spirit to have and to possess itself as its own
moral product, takes place through conscious, free
activity, although indeed in the unconscious nature
of the personal spirit there exists an impulse in that
direction. In so far as man is a rational spirit he
has before him his own self as a moral task, — is to
form himself into a moral personality, into a char
acter ; all non-advancement is here retrogression.
This appropriating and forming relates to the spirit
both as cognizing, as feeling, and as willing, and
looks to the harmony of these three phases of the
spirit-life.
It is only when the spirit makes itself into its own posses-
248 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 122.
sion, — forms itself into a truly rational spirit, that it is a
moral spirit. He who is only a product of other spirits, who
allows himself passively to be molded merely by the spirit
that for the time being prevails in society, is, even when this
spirit is a good one, not yet morally mature, but is in moral
nonage ; he is not yet a person, not yet a character. What
Christ says [Matt, xxv, 14 sqq.] of putting to use the talents
received, holds good also of the moral endowments of man ;
he dare not leave them idle, but must put them to moral usu
ry, — must mold himself by spiritual appropriation into richer
self-possession. He who "has not," — who leaves idle his
received talent, who makes it not into a vital possession, —
does not retain it even as an unproductive power, but loses
what he already has, and for the simple reason that it is a
general law that a life-power, if unawakened into activity,
dies away and perishes ; it is only in virtue of a vital pro
gressive development that the spiritual can be preserved, —
even as water is saved from stagnation only by motion. The
state of innocence cannot be preserved by mere non-doing;
moral indolence would let even the trees of life in Paradise
wither away. By the leaving idle of that which is destined to
development, man sinks to moral dullness and insensibility ;
the spiritual condition of savages is a manifestation of the
consequences of burying the received talent.
The culture of self by the appropriation of truth, that is, the
forming of self to knowledge and wisdom, is presented in
the Scriptures as one of the highest moral duties, and it is
inadmissible to limit this appropriation to merely religious
and moral truth, though of course this is the principal thing
(§ 104). God actually directed the first man to the acquire
ment of knowledge by the fact of his referring him to the
objective world about him (§ 60), and in the fact that He
made known himself and his will to him. But the knowledge
of good and evil was forbidden to man, for the reason that a
real knowledge of the latter was possible only by its reali/a-
tion ; he was indeed to know what he should not do, but not
to know of a real evil, and only a real entity can be truly
known ; but the woman sought after a wisdom [Gen. iii, 6J apart
from true wisdom, and consequently fell.
Feeling is primarily of an immediate, involuntary character;
§122.] PURE ETHICS. .249
but man is not to be under the power of unfree feelings ; he
is rational only when he develops his feelings into moral
ones^ — brings them under the control of his rational knowledge
and of his moral volitions. There is absolutely no place in
the human mind or heart for any thing that is not morally
willed or conditioned. Hence it is a moral duty to cultivate
our feelings into moral integrity, so that they may never incur
the liability of being reproached by the moral consciousness, —
never, even involuntarily, entertain envy, and the like. In the
ante-sinful state such feelings of course do not yet exist ; but
non-moral feelings become very soon sinful ones unless they
become developed. And even the, as yet, uncorrupted feel
ings are primarily still in a crude state and in need of culture.
The feeling of delight, and hence of happiness, rises with the
increase of culture ; the first human beings could not be so
happy in their first days as they could have been after further
moral development. They too were liable to have morally
false feelings. It is true there was as yet nothing immoral
before their eyes which could have become an object of im
moral delight ; but they had, before them, themselves as in
need of further development ; hence if they had felt perfectly
contented in this state of need, instead of thirsting after a
higher perfection, this feeling would have been immoral. On
the other hand, they were capable of feeling displeasure at the
divine, — as in fact actually occurred in view of the divine
prohibition. And the pleasure which Eve felt in the words
of the tempter was already decidedly immoral, seeing that it
implied a will not to follow .the will of God, and was essen
tially the fall itself.
But feeling must be formed not merely as to its quality, but
also as to its degree of liveliness. If only the more prominent
phases of good and evil make an impression upon us, while
the less prominent ones pass before us unnoticed, then our
moral feeling is obscure and obtuse. The fact that feeling,
like the bodily senses, is affected at first only by the stronger
impressions, implies of itself the duty of making it sensitive —
sensitive even for the most delicate features of the godly or
the ungodly. And this can be brought about only by a con
stantly increasing growth in knowledge, — by an attending to
whatever tajses place within and without us; we must prove
250 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 122.
all things and hold fast to the best, the good, and that too not
merely as knowledge but also as the possession of our heart,
as our delight and joy. — Our feelings, as moral, stand not out
side of, but also under our will. The notion that the heart
cannot be commanded, is absolutely immoral, — is an assertion
of man's irresponsibility. Natural feeling does indeed pre
cede the will, but moral feeling is, under one phase, deter
mined by the moral will [§ 93]. It is not left to the hearts of
children whether they will or can love their parents, they are
bound to love them ; and the same is true of wedlock-love, of
our love to our calling, to our rulers, to our country. The
first promptings of feeling are as yet extra-moral, but in that
by this first excitation the will becomes free and is set into
activity, it then in turn directs its activity also upon the feel
ings and the affections.
That willing is in harmony with knowing and feeling, is
primarily strictly natural ; in man, however, as distinguished
from the much earlier self-possessing animal, this agreement
is primarily only approximative ; the will must be exercised in
order to be sure of itself ; man must first learn how to use it.
There is need of a moral will in order that the will may be
come moral. This has all the appearance of a vicious circle,
but it is not ; the fact is, I must in general, and as a principle,
have a will always to follow the truth, in order that, in par
ticular, I may actually form my individual will morally, and
make it subject to recognized truth. The spirit is willing but
the flesh is weak ; this is relatively true also in a normal devel
opment of mankind ; this flesh is, however, not merely sensu-
ousness, but also the spirit itself, the will, in so far as it has
not as yet become veritably free. The will of the spirit must
become something which it is not, as yet, from the very
start, — truly free; and it is free only when that feebleness,
which is primarily merely a sort of clumsiness, is overcome, —
when the spirit is not only in general willing to do God's will,
but also shows in each particular case the same unwavering
willingness. That which, in a state of sinfulne?s, becomes a
self-conflicting double will [Rom. vii, 15 sqq.], exists also in
the ante-sinful state, at least in so far as to constitute a dif
ference between the will as purely individual and the will as
truly rational, God-consecrated, and self-denying. The for-
§ 122.] PUKE ETHICS. 251
mer is not to be done away with, but to be harmoniously sub
ordinated to the latter ; the will must be so formed as that we
can say at every moment : I will, and yet not I, but God who
dwells in me. The will should not be a willful will, but must
be molded into an obedient one, — into obedience to the divine
will, which, in virtue of our love to God, becomes at one with
our own will. In obeying, man distinguishes indeed his own
will from God's will, but he subordinates his will, not loth-
fully but in loving willingness, to the lovingly-appropriated
divine will, — transfigures the former, more and more, by his
love of the latter, so that finally there are no longer two wills,
but only one, — and that, not in virtue of any destruction, but
simply in virtue of love, not by violence but through free
dom, — by following the example of Christ in the constant
practice of the principle: "Not my will, but thine be done"
[Luke xxii, 42; Matt, vi, 10; John v, 30; Psa. xl, 8; Jer. vii,
23; Matt, vii, 21; xii, 50; 1 John ii, 17; Heb. xiii, 21].
Every moral will must say with Christ : ' ' My meat is to do
the will of him that sent me " [John iv, 34] ; obedience is the
food of the soul, — forms and strengthens the will to an in
creasingly freer and holier manner of willing. Only those are
the children of God who are led by the spirit of God, — who
permit themselves freely to be guided by Him, who will only
in and through Him [Rom. viii, 14].
Hence also in the forming of the will we have to distin
guish between the quality and the degree. A will may in fact
be good in quality, may aim at the good and detest the evil,
and yet be lacking in strength and in steadfastness, — may
shrink before difficulties ; it may begin well and yet not bring
to perfection ; good resolutions do not necessarily imply a truly
good will ; in fact, the road to hell is said to be paved with
good resolutions. He who has a good will only at first, but
does not really carry out any thing, is as yet unfree in his
will, — has it not under his control, and is yet a moral minor;
he does not actually will at every particular conjuncture that
which he wills in general. Hence it is man's duty to place
Ms will entirely under the dominion of moral reason, to mold
it to freedom, in order that in particular cases it may not offer
resistance to good resolutions in general, — in a word, that a
will of the flesh may not oppose itself to the will of the spirit.
252 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 123.
III. THE MORAL ACTIVITY AS RELATING TO OTHER
PERSONS.
SECTION CXXIII.
(a) The moral sparing of others consists in a real
recognition of their moral personality, and hence of
their personal independence, freedom, and honor.
(a) Man's personal independence and freedom,
which are the expression of his morally rational
essence, may be limited by others only in the inter
est of higher moral ends, namely, either in order to
train the as yet morally and spiritually immature
toward real freedom, or in the moral interests of the
moral whole or society. — (0) The personal honor of
our fellow-man is preserved when we recognize and
treat him as a morally-rational being called to God-
likeness and God-sonship, and hence as capable of,
and entitled to, moral communion with us, — when
we do nothing toward him which is inconsistent
therewith, — which would stigmatize him as non-
moral, or, undeservedly, as immoral and irrational ;
this is the duty of respecting our neighbor, and as
implied therein of respecting the personal dignity of
man in general, — the duty of sparing and protecting
the good name of our neighbor. — (y) From these two
duties follows the duty of a sparing respect for what
ever appertains to our neighbor, — belongs to him as
a possession, is his property in the broadest sense of
the word, that is, whatever he has a right to call his
own, — and hence a positive avoidance of all action
whereby it would be damaged or alienated from our
neighbor.
§ 123-] PURE ETHICS. 253
Even as our personal morality does not consist in undisci
plined arbitrary discretion, but in the controlling our own
will by the wiH of God, so also there is no moral influencing
of our fellow-man without a limiting of his individual will,
of his individual liberty, and that too in the very interest of his
higher personal freedom. The child qannot be educated
without that in many respects limits be set to its, as yet,
unripe, unintelligent will ; in the person of the educator it is
confronted with the principles of moral order under which it
is to bow its individual will ; it is in fact an essential part of
the duty of sparing the personality of the child, that it be not
allowed to grow up in rudeness. As the child is related to
its parents, so is the individual person to the moral whole.
He whose calling it is to govern, must confine the liberty of
the individual within the order of the whole, — must in some
measure limit it in order that all may become truly free ; in
an organized moral community it is each member's duty to
co-operate in the realization of moral order, and hence to hold
within bounds both his own will and the will of others.
Hence the moral sparing of others is never of an unconditional
character, but finds a limit in the duty of moral culture ; but
within this limit the duty of sparing becomes all the more
imperative. The limiting may never be such as to reduce
the object to a mere will-less creature of arbitrary discretion ;
the right of the object of education or guidance to be an
independent moral personality with a moral purpose of its
own, may never be ignored. He who is as yet morally a minor
may never be treated as if he were always to remain such, —
never as a mere means to an end, — but he must be treated as
having an end in himself. A slavish education is sinful;
despotic government is immoral, whether exercised by a
single individual or by a minority-crushing majority. Whatever
apology may be made for slavery in a sinful world, in the
sphere of pure morality it is absolutely anti-moral.
The sparing and respecting of the personal honor of others,
appears among the chief commands in the Old Testament
[Exod. xx, 16; Lev. xix, 16], and is presented also in the Gos
pel as one of the most essential of duties [Matt, v, 21, 22J.
My neighbor has upon me a claim to respect for his honor, for
his good name. Man is not a mere isolated unit, but a vital
254 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§124.
member of a moral whole ; the personal honor, the good name,
of each is the moral bond which holds together the commu
nity ; he who has lost respect in society stands outside of the
scope of its common-life, — is a broken-off leaf soon to wither
away. — The sparing of the po ssessions of others [Exod. xx, 15,
17; Lev. xix, 35, 36; Deut. xxv, 13 sqq.; xxvii, 17; 1 Thess.
iv, 6] is only a special phase of the sparing of the person of
others. In his property man creates for and about himself a
little world which as the product of his labor, belongs to
him, which he calls his earnings, and for which he has conse
quently a moral right to recognition and respect on the part
of others.
SECTION CXXIV.
(5) The moral appropriaiing and the forming of
others are, in virtue of the mutual moral relation of
men to each other, always associated together in a nor
mal state of things, — each being and involving at the
same time also the other ; and both take place at the
same time in the moral act of love. In active love
toward his neighbor, man brings about also love
toward himself, for the beloved person becomes
united to, and appropriated by, him who loves ; the
active love of one's neighbor is therefore an appro
priating arid a forming at the game time, both in
respect to the neighbor and in respect to the loving
person himself. The exercise of love breaks down
the antithesis of individual persons, but at the same
time respects their moral rights and moral inde
pendence.
It is noteworthy that in the Scriptures we never read of the
love of mankind, but always of the love of neighbor ; [Matt, vi,
14, 15 is only a seeming exception to this, as here " men " stand in
contrast to God]. Christ's love to us is indeed called love to
man or to the brethren, but never love to neighbor ; but our
love to man in general, and not merely to our Christian
§ 124.] PURE ETHICS. 255
brethren, is always called love to neighbor. In this very
circumstance the moral relation of men to each other is
directly indicated. My fellow-inan does not stand before me
as a mere isolated individual, but as one who, by God's will,
is near to me, — who belongs to me for my full love, belongs
to me so intimately that there ought to be nothing strange or
uncongenial between him and me. In love, my neighbor
becomes mine, and I his ; hence love is a mutual appropriat
ing ; and by the fact that I thereby enlarge both my life-
sphere and his own, it is at the same time a mutual forming.
Love seeks not merely the welfare of the other, but also his
love. In the act of love I form the other, in that I impart
myself to him as loving, and that too in my moral character ;
I rejoice him and exalt his moral life, in that I stimulate him
to reciprocal love. At the same time also I exercise a form
ative influence on myself, in that by this communion I am
myself exalted and promoted in my spiritually-moral exist
ence, — in that I spiritually appropriate to myself an other
spiritual being.
The law of love is presented by Christ as the highest of all
commands, and love of neighbor as the substance of all moral
duties toward our fellow-man [Matt, xxii, 39, 40 ; John xiii,
34, 35; xv, 12, 17; comp. Rom. xii, 10; xiii, 8-10; Gal.
v, 14 ; Eph. v, 2 ; 1 Thess. iv, 9 ; 1 Cor. xiii, 1 sqq. ; 1 Pet. i,
22; iv, 8; 1 John iii, 11; James ii, 8; Heb. xiii, 1], All
fulfilling of duty toward our neighbor is an exercise of
love ; when not so it is but deception ; that which springs not
of love, is not only morally worthless, but also immoral,
because counterfeit. Love 'is the test of true God-souship
[1 John iv, 12, 13], "for love is of God, and every one that
loveth is born of God and knoweth God " [1 John iv, 7] ;
human love is thankful reciprocation for that love which first
loved us, — is true religion [James i, 27] ; and love to God
must necessarily manifest itself also in love to the beloved of
God [1 John iv, 20, 21; v, 1, 2]. The precept of love to
neighbor is presented even in the Old Testament as a chief
duty [Lev. xix, 18], and is expressly extended to non- Israel
ites [verse 34; Deut. x, 19; Micah vi, 8; Zech. vii, 9]; what
a contrast this forms to the boasted " humanitarianism " of
the Grepks to whom every non-Greek was a right-less barba-
256 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§124.
rian! Thou shalt love thy neighbor " as thyself; " this is not
a mere comparison of two parallel forms of love, — both are at
bottom but one love ; a truly moral love of one's self as a moral
personality, necessarily manifests itself also as love to other
moral persons through whom in fact one's own rational being
is heightened ; true love of neighbor is also at the same time
true self-love. This holds good even of the false love of
neighbor; every one seeks, in some form, friendship and
love, and feels himself unhappy in isolation ; hence our Lord
says: ;'If ye love [only] them which love you, what reward
have ye ? do not even the Publicans the same ? " [Matt, v, 46,
47; comp. Luke vi, 32]. If now even a false love of neigh
bor is at the same time a love of self, how much more so is
the true love of neighbor! — not however, of course, in such a
sense as that I love my neighbor only for my own sake, for
that would be self-seeking, but in the sense that I love my
neighbor for God's sake, and in this love of God exalt at the
same time my own moral life, and find in the love of neigh
bor true moral enjoyment.
The symbolical expression of mutual union in love is bodily
touching, especially the giving of the hand [2 Kings x, 15 ;
Gal. ii, 9], and in a higher form the kiss, which evinces a
more intimate equality of love the more it is reciprocal ; the
kiss on the forehead or cheek is rather the sign of a con
descending and more distant love, the kissing of the hand
that of a reverential love, the kissing of the feet that of a
humbly submissive love [Luke vii, 38 ; Isa. xlix, 23], the kiss
on the lips that of a mutual, confidential, intimate love, and
hence especially expressive also of sexual love. In the
Scriptures the kiss appears as the sign of love between parents
and children [Gen. xxvii, 26, 27; xxxi, 28, 55 ; xlviii, 10;
I, 1 ; Exod. xviii, 7 ; Ruth i, 9 ; 1 Kings xix, 20 ; Luke
xv, 20], between brothers and sisters and relatives [Gen. xxix,
II, 13 ; xxxiii, 4 ; xlv, 15 ; Exod. vi, 27 ; Ruth i, 14], between
friends [1 Sam. xx, 41], as an expression of homage [1 Sam.
x, 1 ; Psa. ii, 12 ; Luke vii, 38], and as an expression of love
in other respects [2 Sam. xx, 9 ; Matt, xxvi, 48 sqq. ; Luke
vii, 45 ; Acts xx, 37] ; hence it is also a symbol of recon
ciliation [Gen. xxxiii, 4 ; 2 Sam. xiv, 33 : Luke xv, 20] ; and
the fraternal kiss was, in the early church, a general custom
§ 125.] PURE ETHICS. 257
[Rom. xvi, 16; 1 Cor. xvi, 20; 2 Cor. xiii, 12; 1 Thess.
v, 26; 1 Pet. v, 14.]
SECTION CXXV.
Active love is a self-impartation of the subject to
the object, — an imparting of what is one's own to
another in order to exalt his life. Hence it mani
fests itself in service-rendering, in benefiting ; all
moral community-life is a reciprocal service of love ;
every act of love is a sacrifice. Sympathizing love
imparts every thing which is dear to it : — (a) It im
parts its own spiritual possessions in" order thereby
to promote the spiritual life and the spiritual posses
sions of the other, and this, in virtue of an honest
and truthful self-communication. To this communi
cation corresponds, on the part of the object, the
answering and accepting love of confidence, that is, a
willingness to let himself be formed by the appro
priation of the spiritually-communicating love of his
fellow, — a being receptive for self-revealing truthful
ness. (&) Love imparts also its material possessions,
and is hence a devoting of our personal productive
forces to the aid of the needy, in the fulfillment of
the duties of charity and personal assistance. In im
parting and devoting itself, love acquires a right to
the reciprocating love of the other, — to thankfulness
in heart and act.
Love imparts lovingly to the beloved that which itself
loves ; only that in which I myself have pleasure, can I lov
ingly impart ; for this reason every true act of love is a sacri^
fice, and a sacrifice that is not hesitatingly and stumblingly
brought ; love makes it easy ; but every sacrifice must be
made to God ; only he who practices love for God's sake
brings a proper offering. To do good and to communicate is
expressly declared in the Scriptures as a God-pleasing sacri
fice [Heb. xiii, 16]. The mite of the poor, when offered in
VOL. 11—18
258 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§125.
love, avails more than the rich gift of the thoughtless spend
thrift ; in fact he who does not morally love his legitimately-
obtained possessions, cannot in the nature of things make
therefrom a sacrifice.
Christ gives as the determining rule for our conduct toward
our neighbor the general formula: " All things whatsoever ye
would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them, for
this is the law and the prophets " [Matt, vii, 12 j. Hence
true self-love is the pattern and measure of love to neighbor ;
our own rational striving shows us what is the striving of
others, and ought to put itself into harmony with the latter;
that which I would acquire for myself as a right upon others,
ought first to be a duty toward them. By this rule Christ
implies, at the same time, that love begets answering love,
and hence reverts back upon him who exercises it. This is a
practical life-rule in answer to the question : How shall I exer
cise love in each and every particular case ? and it gives as
the answer : Just as I should wish that it should be done to
myself, — a very safe rule, provided always that my own moral
consciousness in general is not beclouded, so that I should no
longer know what would really serve to my peace. The pre
cious is purchased only by the precious, — love only by love.
All love seeks to serve; love of neighbor is ministering love.
" Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your min
ister, and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be
your servant, even as the Son of man came not to be min
istered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for
many" [Matt, xx, 26 sqq.~\. Christ's love, the highest pattern,
is itself the highest love-service, and has brought the greatest
sacrifice ; all love to God is a service of God ; all neighbor-
love is a God-serving in the service of the neighbor. ' ' Let no
man seek what is his own, but every man what is another's"
[1 Cor. x, 24] ; love to self must not become a separating of
ourselves from others, nor a self-seeking using of them ; self-
seeking must be sacrificed in order to attain to true self-love
in the love of neighbor. ''Remember the words of the Lord
Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive "
[Acts xx, 35] ; giving makes happier in the very love-act
itself, and, though a sacrificing, is yet at the same time a re
ceiving, an enkindling of reciprocal love, an imitating of
§ 125.] PURE ETHICS. 259
God and of Christ who out of love gave all ; it is more blessed
than receiving, — not that we are simply to give acts of love,
and not also thankfully to receive them, — for he who cannot,
out of love, receive, is unable also to give out of love, and he
who, because of pride, will not receive, gives in fact only out
of pride; but that kind of receiving is not blessed and does
not render blessed, which is not willing also to give, but only to
Tiaee, and in which the person regards only the bestowment as
such, and not the love which makes it, — inclines only to pos
sess the gift, but not to recognize the love and to reciprocate
it in love. The moral person receives also gladly, out of love,
from love, not however for the sake of the gift but for the
sake of the giver, — desires indeed to receive love, but only
for the reason that he himself loves. The giving of presents
is a universally recognized sign of love, even where the moral
consciousness appears under its rudest forms [Gen. xii, 16 ;
xlv, 17 cqq.] ; there is no love which does not seek to impart
itself, — which would not gladly offer liberally, for the delight
and enjoyment of the other, that in which the loving one him
self has delight and enjoyment, and thus prove itself genuine
by sacrifice [Gen. xxiv, 22, 53; xxxii, 13 sqq.; xlii, 25; xliii,
11; xlv, 22 sqq. ; \ Sam. ix, 7 sqq. ; xviii, 4; Prov. xviii, 16].
Among certain rude tribes it is customary for friends to inter
change names, as is, in fact, the case with one of the parties,
even now, in Christian marriage ; this is also a love-offering.
Communicating love imparts indeed all that it has, but it
does not give away all ; the spiritual possession grows in im
parting itself. The communicating of one's own spiritual
possessions is the exercise of truthfulness. The rational spirit
has, in virtue of its own duty of spiritual appropriating, an
absolute right to truthfulness in the self-communications of
others, though indeed not an unconditional right to the com
munication of all that is known by others. Love admits of no
falseness ; and though there may be things in the life, even of
the righteous, especially inner states, which may not and
should not be communicated indiscriminately to every one, —
for example, to the as yet morally immature, — still, this si
lence is essentially different from falsifying. In the Scriptures
truthfulness is based on love; "speak every man truth with
his neighbor, for we are members one of another " [Eph. iv,
260 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [$ 125.
25], that is, because we are united as vital organs to a single
moral body, — belong to each other, should be transparent to
each other. "To this end," says Christ, "was I born, and
for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear wit
ness unto the truth " [John xviii, 37] ; this is true of Christ
also in his character of Son of man, and hence also of all
men ; now Christ came into the world out of love, and out of
love he bore witness to the truth. Truth is the good, the di
vine, as relating to spiritual communicating. Whatever exists
is for the personal spirit, and each personal spirit exists for all
other personal spirits, — must be perfectly transparent to them,
in so far as sin throws into it no shadow, in order that spirit
in general, the essential nature of which is to unite the sepa
rated, may attain to the truth [Matt, v, 37 ; comp. Job xxvii,
4; Zech. viii, 16; Psa. xv, 2; xxxiv, 14; Rev. xiv, 5]. Where
sin is not yet predominant, but love prevails, there truthful
ness is easy and natural ; it becomes difficult only where sin
predominates.
The formative influencing of others through the living-out
of a moral character is to be regarded simply as a phase of
the truthfulness of loving self- communication, and not as
constituting a special duty of giving a good example [Matt, v,
14-16; Rom. xiv, 19; xv, 2; Phil, ii, 15; iii, 17; Titus ii, 7;
1 Pet. ii, 9, 12, 15; comp. 1 Cor. iv, 16; xi, 1; Phil, iv, 9;
2 Thess. iii, 7]. No one may wish to be moral in order to ap-
vear moral ; that would be downright hypocrisy ; but also
no one should desire to conceal that which in his character is
truly moral ; this would likewise be untruth. But in order to
the formative influencing of others through moral self-mani
festation, it is of course not enough simply to be inactive,
simply as it were to let one's self be contemplated, but there
is requisite, in view of the diverse characters that are to be
influenced, a selection of special manners of self-communica
tion ; as bearing upon children the manner must be other than
with the morally mature ; from this, however, it does not fol
low that this self-impartation is to sink to a mere self-compla
cent display of self, — an intentional presentation of self as a
moral pattern, in any respect whatever. This would be, even
in a saint, a violation of becoming humility, — a tempting of
hearts from Him who alone is the perfect type of holiness.
§125.] PURE ETHICS. 261
Spiritual self-communicating, even when perfectly truthful,
is not per se of a moral character, for, in view of the limited-
ness of men as individual persons, it is in fact a direct neces
sity ; for this reason, perfect solitude is so great a torment ;
the recluse endures his freely-chosen solitude solely because
he is engaged in a continuous spiritual self-communicating,
namely, to God in prayer; a non-praying, unpious solitary
would either be suffering the severest punishment or would be
spiritually deranged. Self-impartation may even be sinful, as
in purposeless, thoughtless gossip ; it becomes moral only
when it is a practicing of love. Loving self-communication
seeks not its own but that which is another's. Falsehood is
hatred, is lovelessness ; where true love is there falsehood is
impossible ; hence the deep pain occasioned by falseness on.
the part of the beloved one.
From the fact that truthfulness is an expression of love, it
is entitled to answering love from the other party, to a ready
welcoming, to confidence. It is true, confidence in men is gen
erally presented in the Scriptures as deceiving [Psa. cxviii, 8 ;
Jer. xvii, 5, 6, etc.]; here, however, the question is only as
to an unpious confidence which builds not upon God but upon
man, and of the state of sinfulness in general. But where sin
is not yet in the mastery, there mutual confidence is the nec
essary antecedent condition of all moral communion, and a
necessary out-going of love. Distrust paralyzes love. The
truthful have a moral right to confidence in their word ; con
fidence is the reverse side of truthfulness. Even as Christ
uniformly required faith and confidence in himself, because he
was the Truth, so may every one who is of the Truth lay claim
to confidence ; hence confidence is not a discretionary state of
the mind, but a moral act. The little child that was proposed
to the disciples as a moral type, is such also in respect to trust
and confidence.
The more outward form of self-imparting through service-
rendering [Gen. xxiv, 18 sqq, ; xxxiii, 12, 15; Exod. ii, 17;
Deut. xxii, 1 sqq. ; Matt, xxi, 3 ; John xii, 2 ; xiii, 4 sqq. ; Acts
xxviii, 2; Gal. v, 13; 1 Pet. iv, 10; Heb. vi, 10; xiii, 16, etc.]
which, on the supposition of a state of sinfulness, includes in
itself also beneficence, is not as yet in the unfallen state a
showing of pity, for misery does not exist save in a state of
262 CHEISTIAN ETHICS. [§126.
sin ; but there is always need of mutual assistance so long as
the last degree of perfection is not yet reached, and hence
there is always also the duty of helping, through the impart
ing of our own forces and means, — of mutually complementing
our possessions which largely vary according to the personal
peculiarity of the possessors.
Love is in its very nature communion-forming, — calls for the
love of the other. And unreciprocated love presupposes sin.
Love gives itself over, but it does not give itself away ; it de
sires to find itself again in the beloved, even as light never
shines without being reflected. The loving reflection of love,
namely, love as the fruit of love, is thankfulness. He to whom
thankfulness or unthankfulness is indifferent, has no love;
even the Lord himself wept aver Jerusalem when it spurned
his love. The warmer the love, so much the more sensitively
is felt the chill of thanklessness ; only a taking refuge in the
love of God can assuage this pang. But only he is entitled to
thankfulness whose love is itself humble thanks to the loving
God ; without this the pretended right is simply presumptuous
self-seeking. The moral worth of thankfulness and the des-
picableness of thanklessness are recognized even among the
rudest tribes, as in fact even in brutes thankfulness is mani
fested by brightened looks ; and hence Christ represents this
duty as valid even among the heathen, — as instinctively com
mending itself to the natural consciousness, and as also prac
ticed by man in his natural state [Matt, v, 46 ; Luke vi, 32,
33 ; comp. Exod. ii, 20 ; Josh, vi, 22 sqq. ; 1 Sam. xv, 6 ; 2
Kings v, 16, 23; Ruth ii, 10 sqq.; Luke xvii, 16; Acts xxiv,
3]. But only love has a right to thankfulness ; a benefit which
does not flow from love, which merely seeks thankfulness,
does not deserve thankfulness, for it is inwardly false.
SECTION CXXVI.
At an equal stage of spiritually-moral maturity,
men are related to each other as mutually-forming
and appropriating each other to a like degree ; but
the more there is a difference in this maturity, so
much the more predominates on the part of the
§ 126.] PURE ETHICS. 263
morally higher-developed the formative influencing,
and on the part of others the appropriating. How
ever, the right and duty of formative influencing on
the part of the morally less-developed never sinks to
zero ; — even the as yet morally immature inevitably
exert a measure of moral influence upon the morally
higher-developed and upon the totality of society.
A complete moral equalization of all men as to their moral
influencing of others would be an irrational reversing of all
moral order, a dissolving of all historical life into unorganized
individual units. Children never sustain to their parents a
relation of perfect equality ; their relation to them is always
rather appropriating than formative ; the resistance of chil
dren to the higher moral validity of the parents is regarded
among almost all nations as a flagrant outrage, and reverence
for age as a high virtue. But society at large is a moral
whole, and here also the higher-advanced have and exercise
naturally a guiding and an educative influencing-activity over
and upon the others, and the totality has a higher validity
than the individual. The higher-developed moral individual
sustains to the morally-immature the right and duty of edu
cative influencing ; a perfectly holy man would enjoy per se a
right to spiritually-moral dominion ; and for this good reason,
and not simply in virtue of his being the Son of God, is
Christ our legitimate Lord. Nevertheless the right and duty
of moral forming never sinks, even in case of the most imma
ture, to absolute nothing ; childish innocence has disarmed
many an evil intent ; the direct impression of guileless confi
dence, of unsuspicion, strikes the malicious purpose with
shame. The pious simplicity of the faith-word of a child has
often proved a heart-stirring awakening for vain wisdom-
boasting unbelief. — Also toward the moral community, the
individual sustains the right and the duty of moral influenc
ing, though in a normal development of the community-life
this influencing would give place very largely to appropriat
ing ; moreover it varies according to the varying social
stations of the individual.
264 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§127.
IV. THE MORAL ACTIVITY AS RELATING TO
OBJECTIVE NATURE.
SECTION CXXVII.
(a) The moral -sparing to which nature, in virtue
of its essence as God's perfectly created work, and as
an expression of the divine love and wisdom, has a
right, requires that man, in the exercise of the moral
dominion over nature to which he is called, regard
this, its divine phase, with due respect, — that he
avoid all purposeless and wanton changing or de
stroying of natural objects, and that, on the contrary,
he exercise toward nature a considerate love, espe
cially in its higher manifestations, by preserving
them in their peculiarity. The duty of considerate
sparing rises in proportion as the nature-creature
comes into actual relation to human life, and enters
into the sphere of his moral activity as a helping
factor.
Moral love to nature is thankfulness to God who gave it to
us for moral enjoyment and for moral dominion ; to man, as
pure, God gave not an uncongenial and fear-awakening na
ture, but a Paradisaical nature. God loves nature as lie made
it, and from its bosom God's creative love beams out toward
us, and he has even impressed manifold natdral suggestions
of the moral upon it ; Christ himself requires respect for
nature, for the heavens are God's throne and the earth is his
footstool [Matt, v, 34, 35], and it is in virtue of this religious
conceiving of nature that there can be moral duties also
toward nature (as against Rothe, JSthik, 1. ed., iii, § 866).
With the exception of the Indians, who adore nature as the
revealed divine essence itself, no people has manifested so
high a respect for nature as the Israelites; the legislation of
the Old Testament surpasses all other systems in a considerate
sparing of nature. Domestic animals especially are placed
under the sparing protection and care of the law [Prov.
§ 127.] PURE ETHICS. 265
xii, 10] ; the mouth of the threshing ox is not to be muzzled
[Deut. xxv, 4] ; on the Sabbath cattle, also are given rest
Exod. xx, 10] ; and in the Sabbatical year both cattle and
beasts are to pasture on the fallow lands [Exod. xxiii, 11 ;
Lev. xxv, 6, 7, in the original text] ; the beast of another
that falls under its burden, or loses its way, is to be helped
[Exod. xxiii, 5; Deut. xxii, 1 sqq. ; comp. Matt, xii, 11];
animals may not be castrated or otherwise maimed [Lev.
xxii, 24 ; even the crossing of animals of different kinds is, in
high moral recognition of the rights of nature-creatures, for
bidden [Lev. xix, 19]. With the greates tenderness of feeling,
a merely symbolical cruelty is not allowed ; " thou shalt not
seethe a kid in its mother's milk " [Exod. xxiii, 19 ; xxxiv,
26 ; Deut. xiv, 21] ; it makes the impression of cruel mockery
when the milk which is destined to nourish the young is
used in connection with its death. Under the same category
falls the prohibition of killing the calf, the kid, and the
lamb, on the same day with its mother [Lev. xxii, 28],
and of taking an incubating mother-bird at the same time
with the nest [Deut. xxii, 6, 7]. The touching account of
the care of God for the animals at the time of the deluge, is
an emphatic illustration of the moral sparing of animals as
it should be exercised by man ; God includes also animals in
his covenant with Noah, and promises to spare them [Gen.
ix, 10, 15]. Christ himself illustrates his own relation to the
body of believers in a gracious picture of a shepherd loving
his flock [John x; comp. Matt, xviii, 12, 13].
The piety-inspired careful sparing of whatever contributes
to the nourishment of man, is so natural an expression of the
moral consciousness that it prevails among almost all, and
even barbarous, nations. Christ sanctions this significant
carefulness [John vi, 12]. This sparing has essentially a sym
bolical meaning, — is an evidencing of thankfulness for the
good gifts of God, — a thankfulness which suffers not that
these gifts of love be destroyed in wanton thoughtlessness
and in purposeless waste, or contemptuously thrown away.
266 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§128.
SECTION CXXVIII.
(b) The moral appropriating of nature is either of a
purely spiritual, or of an actual character. — 1. Spiritu
al appropriating consists, in addition to the legitimate
striving after the highest possible knowledge of
nature considered as a manifestation of divine power,
love and wisdom, mainly in the reflective contem
plating of nature in its symbolical suggestiveness of
the moral, — God having implanted in it natural
symbols of the moral.
The thoughtful, moral contemplating of nature is at once
of a pious and of a poetical character ;* it is not a mere play
of the fancy, it is veritable reality. Nature is not moral, but
it is the work of Him who is himself perfect morality.
•Nature as created by the holy God must necessarily reflect
this holiness as from a mirror ; it is the high and mysterious
charm of nature that it is not mere nature, but that every
where the Spirit whispers out of its bosom and broods over
its expanse. Nature reveals to us not only God's creative
power, wisdom and glory [Horn, i, 20; Job xxxvii, sqq. ; Psa.
xcvii; civ; cxi, 2; cxlvii, 8 $qq.]J the heavens not only
declare God's glory [Psa. xix, 1 sqq.], but also God's love is
made known to us in nature [Matt, vi, 26 sqq. ; Acts xiv, 17],
and the bow on the clouds [Gen. ix, 12 sqq.] and the
bespangled vault of the skies are symbols of the divine faith
fulness [Gen. xv, 5]. But the moral consciousness finds still
more than this; the phases of beauty that are perceived in
nature are suggestions of spiritual beauty. It is not a
groundless fancy when the mind discovers moral ideas sym
bolically suggested even in plants ; we feel at once the
kindredness of impression upon the sensibilities that is made
by a delicate rose and by modest virginity, by a violet and by
childlike humility, by an oak and by firmness of character. And
the fact that animals so frequently directly remind us of human
moral qualities, is simply evidence that the holy creative
* Compare : Zockler, Theologia naturalis, 1859.
f Eridgewater Treatises, vol. 9 ; Kostlin, Gott in der Natur, 1851.
§ 129.] PURE ETHICS. 267
Spirit rules in them and discovers to us; in that which is
merely natural, embryonic premonitions of the moral. The
ant, the bee, etc., are natural emblems of the virtue of indus
try [Prov. vi, 6] ; it is God who causes them busily to care for
a common want, — who works in them in order to speak to
man an unmistakable word of exhortation and instruction.
The care of birds for their young, the fidelity of the dog and
of the horse, are manifestations of a deeply suggestive charac
ter in nature. The quiet gentleness and the patient sufferance
of the lamb are applied as types even to Christ |_Isa. liii, 7 ;
John i, 29, 36; 1 Pet. i, 19; Rev. v, 6, and elsewhere]; Christ
himself uses the dove as a symbol of uprightness of heart
[Matt, x, 16]. The animal-fable has something of the mystical
in it and contains deep truth. The attractive and convicting
element thereof is this inner mysterious fact, that something
of the divine rules in the animal, and looks out upon us, — a
moral element unconsciously immanent in nature itself; and
that which appears in the brute as a type of human sin, is
more than a mere fancied resemblance, — is in fact the root of
that which in man actually becomes sin, whereas in the animal
it is simply a normal limitedness.
SECTION CXXIX.
(2) The actual appropriating of nature-objects for
nourishment, and thereby at the same time for sens
uous enjoyment, involving the destruction of living
natural objects, — rests upon the moral right of man
over nature ; and the limitations to the enjoyment of
the nature-objects which serve for food, lie less in the
nature-objects themselves than in the degree to
which they are used and in the moral state of the
person, as also in the thought of the morally-becom
ing. Also the flesh of animals is allowed to man for
food, and hence also the killing of the same for such
purposes, although in connection therewith all cru
elty and all wanton levity is to be avoided. The
chase is moral only in this sense, and not for diver-
268 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§129.
sion. — As drink man is permitted to use not only
the strictly natural fluids, but also such as are pre
pared by skill, including the vinous; it is simply
their misuse for inebriation that is immoral.
What things are per se appropriate as means of nourishment,
is not a moral but a physiological question. Although for the
state of sinfulness, the disciplinary law of God required man
also in this sphere to distinguish between clean and unclean,
and forbade to him a number of per se appropriate means of
nourishment, still this law of limiting discipline had no valid
ity for humanity while as yet unstained by sin. Here are
applicable the words of Christ: "Not that which goeth into
the mouth defileth a man" [Matt, xv, 11; comp. Titus i, 15;
Acts x, 15; Rom. xiv, 1 sqq. 20; 1 Cor. x, 25 sqq.]. It is not
the object per se that renders an article of food sinful, but the
disposition of the eater, the manner of enjoying it, — namely,
when one forgets God in the sensuous, forgets his own moral
dignity in the pleasure, aims not at the satisfying of the want,
but only at the enjoyment, and does not observe the measure
prescribed by the purpose of nourishment.
The admissibility of flesh-food, though very clear from a
physiological stand-point, has yet been contested from a
moral point of view. Asceticism has in all ages laid great
stress on abstinence from flesh ; the Indians reject flesh-food
unconditionally, inasmuch as, in consequence of their Panthe
istic philosophy, they regard the slaughtering of animals,
otherwise than for sacrifice, as a blasphemous outrage.* The
Manichees (and Essenes ?) abstained likewise from all flesh.
The rejection of flesh-food in seasons of fasting has less an
objective than an inner ground. According to St. Jerome
flesh and wine were originally not allowed, and were first per
mitted after the deluge, but they are not permissible under
Christianity.! Paul mentions similar views [Rom. xiv, 2].
Jehovah expressly conceded to man after the deluge also ani
mals for food [Gen. ix, 3], whereas in the blessing after crea-
* See Wuttke's Gesch. des Heid&nt, II, p. 466 sqq.
t Ep. T9 ad Salvin., /, p. 500 / ed Vattars. ; adv. Jovinian., t, 7, pp.
267, 842.
§129.] PURE ETHICS. 269
tion [Gen. i, 29] there is mention only of plants as food ; from
this circumstance some have inferred that, previously, flesh-
food was not in fact allowed ; but we find no trace of a pre
vious prohibition, and we can discover no reason for a change ;
rather would there lie in the progressive corruption of man
kind a reason for a limiting of former rights ; God's direction
to Noah has in fact all the appearance of an express confirma
tion of a former right ; and the privilege conferred at creation,
of ruling over the fish of the sea, etc., would hardly have any
significance if it did not also include the right to eat them. Abel
brought offerings of the firstlings of his flock and of their fat
[Gen. iv, 4] ; now as it was uniformly that which was most
precious to man that was offered as a sacrifice, hence it is
probable that flocks were kept also for the sake of flesh-food,
to which in fact the "coats of skins" [Gen. iii, 21] seems to
allude. Were flesh-food simply a concession to sinfulness,
which in fact would have no comprehensible reason, it would
certainly not be prescribed in connection with the Passover
and with sacrifices, and above all Christ himself would have
abstained from it, whereas we know that the contrary was the
case [Matt, xi, 19; comp. Mark ii, 19; John ii, 2 sqq. ; Matt,
xxvi, 17 sqq.]. Paul declares abstinence from flesh as a weak
ness of faith [Rom. xiv, 2 ; comp. 21 ; 1 Cor. x, 25] ; to Peter
animals are expressly offered in a vision for food [Acts 11 sqq.],
and animals are spoken of as destined to be slaughtered
[2 Pet. ii, 12 ; Deut. xii, 15, 20]. It is true man can live without
flesh, and he certainly has reason not needlessly and out of
mere wantonness to multiply the destruction of animals ; still,
however, as it is grounded in the very constitution of nature
that animals serve for food to each other, hence it must be
allowable also for man to take food for himself out of the
animal kingdom. And should there seem to lie in the killing
of an animal something inconsistent with the original peace
between man and nature, and with man's instinctive feelings,
and should it be inferred therefrom that it is only the chang
ing of the original relation of things, as alluded to in the
blessing upon Noah, that rendered flesh-food morally possible,
— still the force of this difficulty will vanish so soon as we
reflect upon the very ancient, pious, and significant custom, —
wide-spread even among heathen nations and suggested in the
270 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. f§ 129.
laws of Moses [Lev. xvii, 3 sqq.], — namely, of slaying the nobler
animals in general only for purposes of sacrifice, and of receiv
ing back the flesh, thus consecrated to the Deity, only out of
His own hand. In regard to the primitive usage it is most
probable, therefore, that before the deluge the devout children
of God partook indeed of flesh-food, but only of animals
offered in sacrifice, and that too only seldom, as indeed pastor
al people in general use but little flesh-food. Noah might, in
view of the sensuality of the perished world, have doubted the
propriety of flesh-food, and hence God sanctions it expressly.
It is indeed not to be denied that in the practice of the
slaying of animals in general there lies a moral danger ; it
tends to blunt our feelings of natural compassion ; and it is
not a mere morbid sensibility, that makes it repugnant to
some persons, e. g., to wring off the head of a dove; moreover
it is a well-known fact that those who are engaged for the
most part in the slaughtering of animals are liable to become
hardened and cruel; it does not follow from this, however,
that the slaughtering of animals for food is per se wrong, but
only that the manner of the slaughtering is not a matter of
indifference, — that it should be done with the least possible
suffering, and that not every animal is equally appropriate
therefor. It is in fact repugnant to our moral feelings to
slaughter such domestic animals as by their fidelity to and
fondness for us, have become in some respect our home-com
panions; it has the look of treachery on the part of man, —
of a betrayal of the confidence which the animal had placed
in him, in a word, of a breach of faith. The iron necessity
of our evil-fraught actual condition may excuse it ; but it is
surely not the proper relation of things ; and the fact that the
general feeling of almost all cultured nations has a horror of
the butchering of dogs and horses, man's most faithful com
panions, has its foundation surely not in any notion of the un-
wholesoineness of their flesh, but in a very legitimate moral
feeling, — a feeling the disregarding of which is no mark of a
special refinement of culture. Much more natural, and less
questionably morally, is the killing of wild animals, and of
such animals of the flock as have, not as yet stood to man in
a close relation of confidence. We cannot here as yet discuss
in full the subjects of food and drink.
§130.] PURE ETHICS. 271
SECTION CXXX.
(c) The formative working upon nature, the shaping
of it into an organ for man, is at the same time also
an exalting of nature into the service of the moral
life, and hence a forming of it into an expression of
the human spirit, — an educating of nature whereby
it is raised above its immediate naturalness, and is
made to receive the impress of human action, of spir
itual discipline. Man ennobles, spiritualizes, nature,
and makes it into his spiritual possession, into his
freely-formed home, — and in forming nature he ap
propriates it at the same time to himself.
If the dominating of man over nature, — to which God ex
pressly called the first man [Gen. i, 28 ; Psa. viii], and which
still holds good in a somewhat modified manner even in the
state of sinfulness [Gen. ix, 2, 3], and which is promised
again in the fullest degree for the yet to be recovered perfect
state [Isa. xi, 6 sqq.], — is not to be regarded as a mere figure
of speech, then it must also imply a forming of the same.
Man forms nature into an obedient instrument of the spirit,
and gives to it a spiritual, historical impress. Nature, in its
wild state, stands to man in an unhornelike, not to say hostile
relation, — it is only in its form as shaped and disciplined by
his skill that he feels at home. God gave nature to man as a
theater for his moral activity, but man is not at liberty simply
to sport with it, simply to admire and enjoy it, — he should
really rule over it; but all ruling is at the same time an
appropriating and a forming. Man is to make of nature
something which as yet it is not, — is himself to form it into a
spiritually-molded home for himself. This forming of na
ture is either a forming of it into a useful object for the indi
vidual, and hence in the service of labor (§ 109), or a forming
of it into an image of the spirit, into a thing of beauty, into
& work of art (§ 110). A hill-side cavern is not a dwelling-
place for man; his home-protection, he must construct for
himself. If even the bird builds its nest in a way of its own,
272 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 130.
so that itr bears an impress peculiar to the bird, how much
more must man spiritually shape nature into a home for him
self ! Of course the forming of nature does not consist in an
abuse of it, — e. <?., in a forcing of trees to be square, in crop
ping the tails of horses and the ears of dogs, — but in the
further development of the natural beauty and perfection
already existing m nature. The cultivated rose is more
beautiful than the wild one; the improved fruit tree is bet
ter in many respects than the wild-growing one; the domes
ticated animals have become in many respects quite other and
mpre perfect creatures than they were in their wild state ;
they have attained not only to higher soul-capacities, but also
to a nobler and stronger physique ; the wild dog and the
wild horse cannot in any respect bear favorable comparison
with those which have been cultivated by man. The fidelity
of these creatures, — which indeed they show almost exclu
sively toward man, to whom they attach themselves much
more closely and affectionately than to their own kind, — is an
evidence of the normal dominion of spirit over nature, and a
positive ennobling, and is the thankfulness of the animal for
its culture.
The task of overcoming the wild forces of nature that
stand in the way of individual human life, and of subjecting
them to the discipline of the spirit, is a powerful stimulus to
moral activity; and they are in fact, in virtue of the divine
creative plan, perfectly overcomable by the rational spirit, —
if not always by the individual, yet at least by the collective,
spirit. Though it is not true that all nature-objects exist
merely for the outward use of man, nevertheless they are in
fact for man, in a still higher sense, — for his moral delight,
for spiritual enjoyment, for the service of the moral life.
The dominion and discipline which man can and should
exercise over the animal world, does not in the original pur
pose imply that he is to surround himself in his domestic life
with animals of every sort, but it does imply that lie ought
not (as, however, has actually taken place) to acknowledge
them as a power over against himself, and before which he has
to tremble, and against which he can secure himself only by
strategy and deadly violence; on the contrary, he should rise
to a consciousness of his all-sufficient dominating power over
PURE ETHICS. 273
them ; but to destroy is not to dominate. That nature-creat
ures should become to man a torment, a plague, a death-
bringing danger, and that man in the interest of his self-
preservation should have to carry on a war of extermination
against a large portion of them, — all this is, according to the
Scripture view, a consequence of the disturbance of the har
mony of creation ; hence, as it is a result of sin, we cannot
as yet, here, treat of it. Even in the fallen state, however,
we can still discover clear traces of the true relation of
things ; even the lion and the tiger cannot bear the steady,
fearless look of man. and they throw off their natural awe of
man only after having tasted of human blood. Man can and
may, however, actually realize his dominion over nature, only
when he permits himself to be ruled over by the holy Origi
nator and Lord of nature.
VOL. 11—19
274 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 131
CHAPTER VI.
THE FRUIT OF THE MORAL LIFE AS MORAL END.
SECTION CXXXI.
The end of moral action, as willed by man as
moral, is identical with the end of God in man's
creation ; in this action man wills perfectly to realize
in himself the image of God, — to develop himself in
reality as a good being, and thereby to realize the good
in general. In so far as the good is a fruit of moral
action, it is not a something exterior to man, but
inheres in him, — is his possession, which, as incor
porated into the morally-formed essence of man him
self, and as thenceforth inseparable from him, is a
property or quality of his person. In so far as the
good is the property of man, it is his moral estate.
Hence, as the end of the moral activity in general is
the good, so is this end, for the moral man himself,
the good as having become a moral estate.
The world is, with its mere creation, not as yet complete,
but is charged with a task which is to be carried out by moral
creatures themselves. Though it is true that all good is from
God, still all good is not from Him immediately ; but in
man's case it arises through the free developing of that which
was directly created. Man is himself to create good ; though
as a creature he is good, yet he is not good in such a manner
as he is to become so ; the image of God becomes complete in
him only through his own moral activity ; and he makes into
a good entity not only himself, but also the world that comes
into contact writh him, — he creates a spiritual historical world
which is itself good. To this good as created by himself he
sustains quite other relations than to that which is directly
given to him in his natural existence. To the first man much
§132.] PURE ETHICS. 275
good was given, to which he had a right, and which he could
call his own. This good, however, was simply placed upon
him, — was as yet external to him, and not as yet identified
with his spiritual being ; he indeed possessed it, but it was not
yet his property, — was not a quality of his. All that I have in
my power, upon which I have an actual claim, is my posses
sion. But the idea of property is higher ; only that is my
property which by moral action I have appropriated to myself,
and which consequently essentially belongs to my personal life-
sphere, as my free personal acquisition. A merely inherited
property or power is morally a mere possession, while an
estate or power that is acquired by labor or is morally devel
oped, is a property ; in it 1 have invested my labor, my soul,
my will,— it inheres in me and in my self-created life-sphere,
— is my enlarged personality itself. Hence property has
always a moral element in it, — is moral fruit, is an acquisition.
In the case of the first human beings, the possession of Eden
would have become a property, only in virtue of their cultivat
ing and caring for it. A moral property is inalienable ; it may,
as, for example, in the case of a work of art, come into the
possession of another, but it remains the spiritual property of
its author. A slave is the possession of his master ; but con
sorts not only possess each other, — they appertain to each
other, — each is the property-of the other. Thus in so far as
the good becomes and is a property, it is a good, a moral
estate, — and hence it is such only as a fruit of moral action.
The good as an outward possession may be lost; but when
exalted into a moral property, it is permanent ; to this Christ
alludes when he says : " Lay not up for yourselves treasures
upon earth," etc. [Matt, vi, 19, 20].
SECTION CXXXII.
The good to be attained to by moral action is,
that perfection which answers to the divine crea
tive intention, — on. the one hand, the perfection ot
the individual person, and, on the other, that of
the moral community ; that is, it is in part a
personal, and in part a common good. The two
276 . CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 132.
forms mutually condition each other, and stand
with each other in constant arid closest relation ; but
both are further conditioned on the moral commun
ion with God which is aimed at by the moral activ
ity, and which is the highest moral goal as well as
the ground and essence of all creature-perfection in
general ; for God alone is the eternally-perfect good.
The real moral life-communion with God, as dis
tinguished from the merely natural, is consequently
the absolute good, and hence the highest good, — that
which is the source and condition of all other goods.
In so far as individual man has the highest good as
his moral property, he is a child of God ; in so far
as the moral community has this good inherent in
itself, it is the kingdom of God, which rests on the
God-sonship of its individual members.
The thought of a moral communion, and hence also of a
moral common-good, is met with also in the extra-Christian
world; the Republic of Plato was meant to embody it. But
where the common ground of the personal good as well as of
the common good, namely, communion with God, is lacking,
there this thought is realizable only as a sum total of single
goods, or only by the all-dominating despotism of the com
munity-organism over the individuals, as in the system of
Plato. A vital union of the two forms of good is effected
only by the Christian God-consciousness. Some form of com
munion with God is enjoyed by every creature as such ; this,
however, is of a merely natural character, and. needs, in the
case of rational creatures, to be exalted to a moral character.
As coming from the hands of nature man is not the child of
God ; he becomes truly such only by free moral love to God.
The question as to the highest good, — for the heathen diffi
cult and in fact not truly solvable at all, — is, from an evan
gelically-moral stand-point, readily answerable. There is
absolutely no good realizable or actually realized without
standing in relation to God, without springing from God as
its source, and hence none for man without personal life-corn-
§133.] PURE ETHICS. 277
munion with God [ John xvii, 21 ; 1 John i, 3 ; ii, 5, 6] who is the
perfectly good One in an absolute sense [Matt, xix, 17] ; only
he has the highest good who is rich toward God [Luke xii,
21 ; Psa. Ixxiii, 25], and who has everlasting treasures in
heaven [Matt, vi, 20; 1 Tim. vi, 19]. While heathen phi
losophers grope about in uncertainty as to the highest good,
Jehovah reveals it in all simplicity and definiteness to the
patriarch Abraham at a time when he was wavering in faith
as to the fulfillment of the prophecies made to him, — reveals it
in these words: "I am thy exceeding great reward" [Gen. xv,
1], — thou canst aim at and attain to nothing higher; and the
highest blessing of the Old Testament is the ' ' peace of God "
[Num. vi, 26; Psa. xxix, 11]. This highest good man cannot
have as a merely outward possession, as a mere gift, — he can
not have it from nature, but only as a morally-acquired
property; even under the economy of redemption from sin,
where not merit but grace prevails, faith which is in fact a
moral work — is the necessary condition. The idea of a king
dom of God, — unknown throughout heathendom, but prepared
for and anticipated in the Old Testament, and realized in
Christianity, — presents the moral community as in full pos
session of the highest good, which now becomes, in turn, for
the individual members (by whom it is enjoyed as God-son-
ship) the source of higher moral perfection. In virtue of
life-communion with God the highest good bears the stamp of
eternity, in the sense of endless duration ; the life of the
children of God is an everlasting life [Matt, xix, 16, 17, 29 ;
xxv, 46; John xvii, 3; 1 John ii, 25, and other texts], and
the kingdom of God is an everlasting kingdom.
I. THE PERSONAL PERFECTION OF THE INDIVIDUAL
AS THE END OF THE MORAL ACTIVITY.
SECTION CXXXIII.
The personal perfection of the individual person is
the realization and visualization of God-sonship, that
is, of the idea of man, and of the creative will of God
as to man. The moral goal set before man, namely,
278 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 134.
the all-sided personal perfection of the human life-
powers and of their manifestation, is, as a fruit of
the collective moral activity, never fully and defini
tively realized during the temporal life, but is involved
in constant progress, though at every stage of the
truly moral life it is in fact relatively realized.
To be perfect is neither an improper nor an impossible
requirement upon man ; on the contrary, it is expressly pre
sented by Christ and the apostles as the moral goal : "Be ye
therefore perfect (r&eioi) even as your Father which is in
heaven is perfect" [Matt, v, 48]; "if thou wilt be perfect,
follow me" [xix, 21 ; Luke vi, 40; 1 Cor. ii, G; xiv, 20; Eph.
iv, 13 ; Col. i, 28 ; 2 Tim. iii, 17 ; Ileb. v, 14 ; James iii, 2] ; the
term refaiof implies the contents of TfAof, that is, the purpose
and goal of the moral life. This perfection of the creature is
indeed, as compared with the divine perfection, of a limited
character; such as it is, however, it really exists, in every case
of normal development, from the very first moment on, and it
steadily advances, keeping pace with every stage of the life-
development. Christ himself, even as a child, is presented as
a pattern, while as yet he was increasing in wisdom and in
favor with God and man; that is, he was even as a child per
fect, though this perfection was not yet that of the full man's-
age of Christ [Eph. iv, 13]. Every moral being should and
can be relatively perfect at every moment of its life; even
the child is to be so in the manner of a child [1 Cor. xiii, 11] ;
and the final and true perfection is not a merely conceived
and never-to-be-realized goal, for such would not be a goal at
all, but it can in fact and should actually be realized by each
and all. Christ as the son of man really reached this goal,
and all who belong to him have, in virtue of their God-son-
ship, both the duty and the possibility of attaining to it [Phil.
iii, 12, 15; 1 Cor. xiii, 10].
SECTION CXXXIV.
All moral attainments, and hence all the elements
and forms of perfection or of the true good, are a
moral possession, and hence a property. Every pos-
§134] PURE ETHICS. 279
session is an enlargement of the existence, the power
and the life-sphere of the moral person, in virtue of
moral appropriation, — is a breaking down of the
limits of the original individuality, a uniting of the
isolated existence witli the life of the whole. Cor
responding to the distinction between special and
general appropriating (§ 104), and, from another
point of view, to that between natural and spiritual
appropriating (§ 101), the possession acquired by
moral appropriating (which is at the same time nec
essarily also a forming) is, on the one hand, partly of a
more external character, — bearing upon the individ
ual as such and widening his life-sphere, and hence,
as relating to others, of an exclusive character, — and,
on the other, in part of a more inward, spiritual and,
in so far, riot merely personal, character, but, on the
contrary, promotive of communion.
(a) The outward possession — legal property, tem
poral means — is, as the fruit of moral labor, a real
and legitimate good, and hence also a legitimate end
of moral effort, though it becomes at once sinful
when it is made the end per se, the highest good
itself, when it is placed above the inward possession
and not rather vitally united with it, when the effort
for it aims merely at the enjoyment and not also at
the moral culture and the moral communion natural
ly involved in it,— when it does not become a channel
of communicative love.
If appropriating is per se a moral activity, then is also the
striving after temporal possessions not only a right but also a
duty. Possessions distinguish man from the brute, and civil
ized man from the savage ; the Diogenic form of wisdom is
by no means very profound. Labor finds in possessions its
normal fruit ; possessions are labor as having become reality '
280 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 135.
The brute is possessionless because he does not labor. In prop
erty man ceases to be a mere isolated individual of his spe
cies ; he creates for himself a world about himself which he
can call his own ; his property is the outward manifestation
of his inward peculiarity. The fact that he who possesses
much is also much regarded and esteemed in the world, is,
indeed, often very hollow and baseless, though in reality it
springs from the per se correct consciousness that possessions
are the fruit of labor, — the result of moral effort. He who
acquires nothing for himself passes in the world, not without
reason, for unrespectable. Of a special virtue of possession-
despising, as with the mendicant monks, there can, in the
ante-sinful state, be no question ; and even after the fall, pos
sessions are presented as a perfectly legitimate end of moral
effort, and their being increased as a special divine blessing.
Cain and Abel possess already personal property ; and the
God-blessed possessions of the patriarchs occupy a very large
place in their morally-religious life [Gen. xii. 5, 16 ; xiii, 2 ;
xiv, 14; xxiv, 22, 35, 53; xxvi, 13, 14; xxvii, 28; xxx, 27,
30, 43; xxxi, 42; xxxii, 5, 10, 13 sqq.; xxxiii, 11; xxxix,
5 ; xlix, 25 ; Exod. xxiii, 25 ; Lev. xxv, 21 ; Deut. ii, 7 ; vii, 13 ;
xv, 14 sqq. ; xvi, 15, 17 ; xxviii, 3 sqq. ; xxxiii, 13 sqq. ; xxiv,
25; comp. 1 Kings iii, 13; Psa: cvii, 38; cxii, 2, 3; cxxxii, 15].
Property being the enlarged life-sphere of the moral per
son, — in some sense his enlarged personality itself, — the moral
phase thereof lies not merely in its antecedent ground, name
ly, labor, but also in its moral use and application. To its
enjoyment man lias a moral right, as such enjoyment is the
reward of labor; but to the exclusive enjoyment of it for
himself alone he has no moral right, seeing that he is bound
to other men by love, and love manifests itself in communi
cative distribution.
SECTION CXXXV.
(J) The inner' possession, namely, the perfection of
the personality itself in its essence and life, — perfectly
realized in the person of the Son of man alone, — is,
(1) The perfection of knowledge, namely, wisdom;
that is, that all-sided knowledge of God which rests
§ 135.] PURE ETHICS. 281
on a true love of God, and winch in virtue of moral
effort has become a true property of the person, and
which consequently also constitutes a life-power de
terminative in turn of the moral life itself, — and
hence involving also a knowledge of the being, es
sence, and end of created reality, especially also of
one's own life (§§ 60, 104). As influencing the moral
life, wisdom is necessarily also practical ; and as
taking into view the actual circumstances of exist
ence and their application to the moral end, it as
sumes the form of prudence.
Wisdom is presented in the Scriptures as the first and most
essential element of the highest good, and in fact always under
its two phases, as a knowledge of the truth, and as power to
fulfill it. It is not a mere knowledge in which man forgets
himself in the object, not mere science, but a knowledge
which merges the person himself into the life of the truth, —
which fills the soul with vital, life-creating truth. The object
of wisdom is not this or that particular truth, but the truth, —
is the self-consistent complete whole. Knowledge is not yet
wisdom ; with scantier knowledge there may be more wisdom
than with a richer knowledge ; a much-knowing one may even
be a great fool. "Wisdom is essentially not world-science but
God-science ; it is, as a manifestation of God-sonship, never
without a life in God, — is in its essence piety ; without God-
knowledge and God-fearing there can be only folly [Psa.
cxi, 10; xxv, 14; Job xxviii, 28; Prov. i, 7; ix, 10]. Wisdom
is more than knowledge and science, inasmuch as it always
aims at unity, at the central point, at the whole, — always
unites the person himself with God and with the All, both
cognoscitively and actively ; it is moral knowing. Its essence
consists not in the compass and in the fullness of the knowl
edge, but in the harmony, the true foundation, the truth and
the moral potency of that which is known. There is no wis
dom, therefore, without constant moral effort ; but also none
which does not itself produce a moral life. Such wisdom is
presented as the most essential element of the highest good,
282 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 135.
and to acquire it, as a high duty [Prov. ii, 2 sqq. ; iv, 5 sqq. ;
viii, 11 ; xvi, 16 ; xxiii, 23 ; John viii, 32 ; xvii, 3 ; Acts xvii, 27 ;
Rom. xii, 2; xvi, 19; 1 Cor. xiv, 20; Eph. i, 18; iii, 18; iv, 13;
v, 10, 17 ; Phil, i, 9, 10 ; iii, 8 ; iv, 8, 9 ; Col. i, 9, 11 ; iii, 10, 16 ;
1 Tim. ii, 4; 1 Pet. iii, 15; 2 Pet. iii, 18; James i, 5], and the
non-recognizing of the divine as deep guilt [Rom. i, 20, 21 ;
iii, 11 ; 1 Cor. i, 21 ; 2 Tim. iii, 7; 2 Thess. i, 8]. Wisdom as
sociates all knowledge with God, and uses it all in moral
self- revelation, — is pious and moral at the same time, — goes
back always to the primitive ground, and forward to the ulti
mate end ; hence it leaves nothing in its isolation and separate-
ness, but brings all things, man included, into relation to the
whole, and the whole into relation to every part ; it is know
ing in its truly rational character; the fear of the Lord, it is
wisdom. — As wisdom makes knowledge the full property
of the person, — as it belongs not merely to the understand
ing but also to the heart, and is in fact intelligent love, —
hence it is necessarily also active life, — begets love and works
from love, awakens a striving to manifest the attained truth
in the reality of life. A wisdom which does not generate life,
— which remains locked up in the subject, — is folly [Deut.
iv, 6; Prov. viii, 11 sqq. ; James iii, 13, 17].
Prudence (typovrjaif, different from aofaa, Eph. i, 8) is indeed
in the sphere of sinful humanity not identical with wisdom,
and can even exist as a merely worldly quality apart there
from ; but where sin is^not yet actual, this difference is merely
formal. Wisdom, as essential rationality itself, embraces truth
per se as a harmonious whole ; prudence, on the contrary, takes
into account actual reality with a view to bringing it into re
lation to the moral idea as embraced by reason, — in order to
find for the moral idea its realization in each conjuncture, and
the means thereto ; hence it is simply wisdom as relating to
specific real circumstances. Hence true prudence can neither
exist without wisdom, nor wisdom without prudence, and
moral duty involves both of them in inseparable unity. The
harmonizing of prudence with open-hearted simplicity becomes
difficult only in a world of sin. Considerateness and circum-
apectness are designations of prudence as applied in cases diffi
cult of decision [Luke xiv, 28, 29], especially in so far as it
guards against the promptings of over-rash feelings.
§ 136.] PURE ETHICS. 283
SECTION CXXXVI.
(2) The perfection of feeling, as a moral fruit, is
the feeling of pure pleasure in the divine, and of un
mitigated repugnance to the ungodly, and, as based
on faith, the feeling of pure joy which springs from
the consciousness of the morally-wrought harmony
of one's own existence with God and with the uni
verse. As relating to existence other than that of the
moral subject, this perfection is perfect love as a power
grown essential and inherent in the personality ; in
relation to the moral subject himself it is the perfect
Hiss of the child of God, the repose of the soul in
God.
So long as the feeling of self is not yet reduced to full
harmony with the love of God (§ 92), so long also is feeling,
as relating to the godly and the ungodly, not pure and not
decided. As the ear must first be made skillful by atteut-
iveness and practice in order to be able readily to distinguish
beautiful from discordant notes, so also must feeling, first be
made sensitive by moral exercise in order to be able, at every
moment, unhesitatingly to love and to hate at once in the
right manner. Such decisiveness, such purity of feeling, con
stitutes an essential part of the perfection of the life in God,
that is, of blessedness ; blessed are they who are pure of heart ;
blessed they who find no occasion of offense in Christ and in
the ways of God [Matt, xi, 6.] Mere joy is not yet blessed
ness ; the merely natural pleasure in existence, even were it of
a Paradisaical character, is not enough to satisfy the spiritual
nature of man ; only that which is morally wrought, or at least
morally appropriated, renders blessed. Even a normal child
rejoices more in its own playful creating than in mere eating
and drinking. The nine Beatitudes of Christ [Matt, v] relate,
all of them, to the moral, and not one of them to a mere state
of enjoyment. All blessedness, however, is love, and true
love is blessedness; but only morally attained love is true
love ; even love to God becomes truly blissful only when it is
the expression of already-attained God-Sonship. The moral
284 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 137.
man feels blissful when he views the harmony of being not as
simply immediately existing and as merely contemplated by
himself, but as in moral freedom recognized, willed, and re
alized by himself, — namely, in so far as, on the one hand,
those features in the objective world which are originally as
yet exterior and uncongenial to man are overcome, and the
dominion of man over nature realized, and in so far as, on the
other, a spiritually moral world is brought into being with
which the individual knows himself in moral harmony; but
the consciousness of this double harmony produces loving
blessedness only when it rests on the consciousness of a
morally virtualized filial relation to God. True blessedness
exists only in union with God; peace of soul only in the
eternal.
That such blessedness is not simply an inheritance in the
future but the destination even of the present life, is implied
in the moral idea itself, as well as in the thought of the
divine love. God has not appointed us unto wrath, but to
obtain blessedness [1 Thess. v, 9]; "but whoso looketh into
the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being
not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall
be blessed in his deed " [ James i, 25] ; though this thought
may hold good on the part of one redeemed by grace, only
under certain limitations, yet it is unconditionally valid of
man per se and as unf alien ; with him moral activity is per se
blessedness, and there is no blessedness without moral activ
ity. "Blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep
it " [Luke xi, 28], — keep it not merely in memory but in their
heart, in love and in volition ; ' ' blessed are they that do his
commandments " [Rev. xxii, 14].
SECTION CXXXVII.
(3) The perfection of the moral will, that is, the
full moral freedom of self-determination as effected
by wisdom and love, the perfect mastery over one's
self, the completed possession of one's self, consti
tutes the fully developed personal character. As dis
tinguished from all mere fortuitous character-forming,
§137.] PURE ETHICS. 285
the truly moral character is the copy of the divine
holiness as attained to through free moral culture, —
the moral law as become the real free property of
man, the harmony of the human with the divine will
as become a dominant power, a moral nature, so that
consequently the willing and accomplishing of the
ungodly becomes to man a moral impossibility, — so
that the love to God becomes perfect hatred against
sin. The constantly advancing development of
the moral striving toward this holiness, constitutes
the ever-progressive sanctification of the soul, the
ultimate fruit of which is the perfect freedom of the
will, and as contained therein the enjoyment of
blessedness.
In that the moral activity becomes fact, that is, becomes a
moral possession of the person, it transforms the original, as
yet, undetermined will-freedom into a determined moral will-
quality, into moral character. Character-formation illustrates
clearly the nature of moral freedom. An, as yet, undeter
mined character has a much wider possibility of choice in
single cases than a definitely shaped one; a characterless
man is unreliable because his freedom has no moral deter-
niinedness, but is merely external freedom of choice. Char
acter is reliable, and upon the degree of its firmness rests the
confidence which it inspires ; we know in advance with cer
tainty how, in a definite moral conjuncture, such and such a
character will choose. This is now surely no limitation of
freedom, but rather its moral maturity. The freedom is all
the more perfect, true, and mature, the more it is character-
firm, the more it has moral determinedness; and the highest
moral freedom is that where the person can no longer waver
in any moral question, where it has become for him a moral
impossibility to choose the immoral, — and this is the state of
holiness. Holiness is related to innocence as morally-acquired
good to ante-moral natural good — as moral property to mere
possession.
286 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 137.
Human holiness as a copy of the divine holiness differs
from the latter in this, that with God holiness constitutes
his essence itself, and the possibility of sin is not in any sense
conceivable ; whereas human holiness is simply a morally-
acquired good, and presupposes the possibility of sin, which
in fact it has morally overcome. God's holiness is eternal ;
human holiness is, in its true character, the goal of develop
ment, — depends on progressive sanctification, which advances
from a mere non-willing of the sinful to hatred against it
and to abhorrence of it. The moral requirement of complete
heart-purity and holiness may not in any manner be lowered,
as if a limited measure thereof were enough, and as if a lower
requirement were to be made of feebly constituted man than,
e. g..of the angels. According to the testimony of Christ, men
are in fact to become equal to the angels [fffuyye/Uu, Luke xx,
36] ; and also in their moral essence they should and must
not remain below them. Man ought (and the word ought
expresses the fundamental condition of all morality in gen
eral) to become morally perfect, and hence holy. This re
quirement is fully maintained even in the state of sinfulness,
where primarily, that is, before the completion of redemption,
the entire fulfilling of the same was not possible. The legis
lation from Sinai places this moral requirement, as the funda
mental idea of morality, in great prominence: "Ye shall be
holy, for I am holy, the Lord your God " [Lev. xi, 44, 45 ;
xix, 2; xx, 7] ; and the apostles adopt the same words as fully
valid also for Christians [1 Pet. i, 15, 16]. The utterances of
the Scriptures elsewhere fully harmonize therewith [Eph. i, 4 ;
iv, 24; 1 Thess. iii, 13; comp. Matt, v, 48; Luke i, 75; and
other passages], and the fact that the faithful of God are so
frequently styled "saints" is clearly an expression of their
moral destination.
Man is originally innocent, but not yet holy ; he is not,
however, to remain merely innocent, but is to advance to real
holiness. Man is created in innocence unto holiness. The
mere unconscious retaining of the first innocence would be a
lingering in the child-consciousness; and the going beyond
it, — not of course in the direction of sin but only in that of
conscious holiness, — was the true normal course; Christ's
holiness was not mere innocence. As a morally-acquired
§137.] PURE ETHICS. 287
property, holiness as distinguished from the mere possession of
innocence, is a permanent quality, and constitutes the moral
character itself of man ; he for whom there is yet possible a
single sinful moment, has not yet attained to holiness. There
is not only a .natural but also a moral must; and when the
child Jesus says: "Wist ye not that I must be about my
Father's business ? " [Luke ii, 49], this is a direct reference to
this moral " must " of a holy soul. Holiness is consequently not
a quality of single actions, but it is character-peculiarity; not
the single volitional act, the single frame of mind is holy, but
the heart itself. This purity of heart is not a merely negative
state, a mere non-presence of sin, for that would be only inno
cence, but it is a moral fruit, a morally-acquired power over
sin, and hence where sin has once actually existed it cannot
be attained to by a mere ceasing to sin, but only by cease
lessly militant santification. Sanctification (uyiaa^iof) is
consequently by no means a merely negative bearing, even
in the ante-sinful state, but is a positive forming of the will
and heart unto holiness. The sanctification mentioned in the
Scriptures [1 Cor. i, 30 ; 2 Cor. vii, 1 ; 1 John iii, 3 ; Heb. xii, 14,
and other passages] designates of course only the putting off of
existing sinfulness as taking place in virtue of redemption ; but
when Christ says of himself: ' ' For their sakes I sanctify myself,
that they also might be sanctified through the truth " [John
xvii, 19], this self-sanctification of the holy One is indeed prim
arily to be understood of his giving himself in sacrifice, but
it alludes at the same time also to the perfecting of the moral
life-development of the Son of Man unto the plenary posses
sion of morally-acquired holiness in his character as man;
such sanctification is the duty of man as man.
Through progressive sanctifying culture of the will man
becomes perfectly master over his heart, over his will, — the
moral becomes easy to him, becomes his second nature, whereas
his first nature is the as yet not morally formed one. The
will of the person is qpw no longer different from the divine
will, but it is, in full freedom, at one therewith ; the divine
will has fully become the inner essence and the vital power
of the disposition of the person, not merely in general but
also in particular, so that in each special case the will with
unfailing certainty chooses the right, — even as a true artist
288 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 137.
possesses full mastery over his hand, so that it never introduces
a false tone or makes a false stroke. Practice leads to mas
tery ; and the morally-matured man is master over his own
will.
It is only in this mastery that man is truly free, namely, in
that he has then overcome every thing in himself which, as a
morally-to-be-mastered material, was as yet different from the
moral idea itself. But freedom is bliss ; he who has become
truly free in his will is thereby necessarily also happy. Master
over himself, he is also at the same time master over all that
is unspiritual, over nature; and in having put himself into
complete and free harmony with God, he participates in the
lordship of the absolute Spirit over nature. "The Father
that dwelleth in me he doeth the works," says Christ in refer
ence to his miraculous works — the works of the Spirit upon
nature; "verily, verily," says Christ to his disciples, "he that
believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also ; and
greater than these shall he do " [John xiv, JO, 12] ; for God
who dwells 4n him, as he in God, the same does the works ;
having become free in God, man has nothing more either
within or without himself which could prove a hinclerance
to the moral will of the rational spirit, — which would say,
No! to the striving of the Holy Spirit; as an expression of true
and complete freedom, and not as the caprice of the immature
and unsanctified spirit, this promise of Christ holds good for
all his faithful followers. The hard rind of unspiritual nature
must be broken through, the longing of the vanity-bound
creature must be fulfilled ; nature must be " delivered from
the bondage of corruption unto the glorious liberty of the
children of God " [Rom. viii, 19-22] ; all that is natural must
be spiritualized, must be exalted into the complete untram-
meled service of the free spirit ; such is the freedom, such the
blessedness of the children of God.
In the possession of knowledge, of purified feeling, and of
the mastery of the will, as attained to by moral appropriating
and self-forming, man becomes morally cultured, as distin
guished from the as yet morally immature and crude man;
and in such culture he is truly free. The very first man was
called unto perfect culture, and it is quite the opposite of cor
rect to conceive, with Rousseau, the first human beings as
§ 138.] PURE ETHICS. 289
living in a state of happy barbarism. As far back as the Bibli
cal account reaches we find even in the state of sin no trace of
an actual cultureless barbarism. The fact that Adam was to
till his garden was of itself an implication of his destination
to culture, for barbarians never till the soil ; Adam's sons ap
pear, from the very first, as persons of culture with a definite
savagery-excluding calling; Cain was a founder of villages
[Gen. iv, 17] ; and among his immediate descendants appear
inventors of manifold articles of skill [Gen. iv, 21, 22] ; and
from that time forth we find traces of a progressive culture.
The progenitors of the Israelites are by no means half-savage
nomads ; their wandering-about is only a temporary state of
necessity, for they are in search of a home ; and their entire
form of life gives evidence indeed of great simplicity, but
yet also of high spiritual and moral culture. True culture
is always a fruit of moral effort, and a culture that aims at
mere temporal enjoyment and profit is but a deceptive self-
defeating counterfeit.
SECTION CXXXVIII.
(c) In that the morally-good becomes an acquired
possession of man, his real property, it has become an
essential element of his moral nature, and hence is
not an inert state, but an active power generative of
new moral life, — has become a creative, operative
disposition, and is consequently itself per se a directly
active motive to moral action. The morally-good
has become virtue., which is accordingly, on the one
hand, a good not innate and embraced in the nature
itself of man, but a morally-acquired possession, and
on the other a power generative in turn itself of the
good.
" All Scripture, given by inspiration of God. is also profitable
for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in
righteousness, that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly
furnished unto all good works " [2 Tim. iii, 16, 17] ; the moral
perfection attained to by the sanctifying activity is itself in turn
VOL. 11—20
290 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 138.
a stimulus to the good, a capacitation, a skilledne"ss and power
for moral activity ; -such is the inner idea of virtue. Man as
come into possession of virtue is no longer the original man
possessed of merely naturally-moral power, but he is man as
armed with morally acquired and hence heightened power.
There are no innate virtues, but only innate capabilities of
virtue. The merely natural man has moral freedom as a simple
and as yet undetermined freedom of choice ; the virtuous
man has his freedom as exalted to a determinedness for the
good ; he has no longer an equally balanced choice between
good and evil, but his morally acquired peculiarity of char
acter inclines spontaneously to the good. Man can never
merely possess virtue, he must let it be operative ; a dormant
virtue is none at all. Hence, varying from the usual view
which distinguishes and contrasts goods and virtues, we con
sider virtue directly as a good. The contrasting of virtue as
a power and of goods as a possession is inaccurate ; all power
is a good, and every good is a heightening of power; hence
men of the world seek so zealously after earthly goods, as they
thereby enlarge" their power. That virtue is not a dormant
possession, but strictly an operative power, does not make it
differ essentially from all other goods ; no real property exists
merely to lie idle, no talent is to be buried ; but it is to be
put to usury and made constantly to acquire more. Money is
a good ; for him, however, who does not put it to use, it does
not really exist ; it becomes a real good only when it becomes
a power, when it is employed in heightened life-activity.
Virtue, however, is a much higher good than that which is
given us directly and from nature, or as an outward posses
sion.
In the New Testament the notion of virtue is variously ex
pressed ; uperf] [Phil, iv, 8 ; 1 Peter ii, 9 ; 2 Peter i, 3, 5] is not
strictly virtue, but is rather the notion of the morally good in
general. Usually the notion of virtue is expressed by dinaioavvri,
in so far as this quality is- a personal possession [Luke i, 75 ;
Rom. vi, 13; Eph. iv, 24; v, 9, and other passages], also by
iiyiaaiii'Ti [1 Thess. iii, 13], by uyaOvovvr} [Rom. xv, 14; Eph.
v, 9], and likewise also by evaefStta, in so far as the root of
virtue rather than virtue itself is meant; for Christian virtue,
is also used, as designating its resting upon divine
§ 139.] PURE ETHICS. 291
grace. In the Old Testament the notion proper of virtue is
wanting ; under the predominance of the thought of the law
and of right, the morally correct character is designated as
"righteousness," in virtue of its answering to the law and
claims of God ; hence this is merely a designation of the form.
Before the full accomplishment of redemption, the inner essence
of virtue was neither fully realizable nor comprehensible.
SECTION CXXXIX.
Inasmuch as all moral motive consists in love (§ 91),
and inasmuch as virtue, as a moral property, is also
an actuating power, hence virtue is essentially love
to God, and is consequently per se not multiple but
single. In so far, however, as the relation of this
one-fold virtue may be different both as to the moral
person and as to the object, it appears under the form
of a plurality of virtues, which, however, as merely
different phases and manifestation-forms of the one
virtue, are never to be entirely separated from each
other, and can never exist alone. These diverse
manifestation-forms of virtue may be reduced to four
cardinal virtues: — (1) Moral love preserves itself for
the object in its proper relation to it, and thus mani
fests itself in the virtue of fidelity. — (2) Moral love
preserves the object in its moral rights, and hence in
its legitimate peculiarity, — as the virtue of justness. —
(3) Moral love preserves the moral subject himself in
his moral rights, and hence at the same time within
his moral limits, in that it places upon the moral
activity of the same a definite measure, — the virtue
of temper ateness. — (4) Moral love preserves at once
both itself, the moral object and the .moral subject in
their moral rights, in that it actively opposes all hin-
derances that stand in the way of it and of its realiza
tion, — the virtue of courage.
292 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 139.
We do not adopt the Platonic classification of the virtues
which has found its way into a large portion of works on
Christian ethics, for it is only by violence that it can be ac
commodated 'to the Christian consciousness. The cardinal
virtues which we adopt, result logically and naturally from
the notion of love as a disposition of the soul ; and it is, by no
means, accidental that they correspond to the four tempera
ments. The so-called temperament-virtues are simply the
natural germs of the real virtues. The virtue of courage cor
responds to the warm or choleric temperament ; that of tem-
perateness to the cold or phlegmatic ; that of justness to the
quick or sanguine, — for sanguine persons are very receptive
for whatever is objective, accepting it just as it presents itself,
yielding themselves to it, doing it no violence ; sanguine per
sons are very companionable. The virtue of fidelity corresponds
to the melancholic temperament, which, directed inwardly
and dwelling within itself, and largely closed to outward in
fluences, is not easily led astray. — The four virtues are so inti
mately connected with each other that each contains within
itself in some measure all the. others. Temperateness is just
ness in so far as it restrains man from that which does not
become him ; it is fidelity in so far as it regards love to God
and to God's will as having the highest claims, and does not
allow the individual self to become too prominent ; and it is
courage in so far as it actively confines the unspiritual and
the irrational within their proper limits. Justness is fidelity
in so far as it preserves love for and verifies it upon the object ;
it is temperateness in so far as it respects every-where the
measure and the. limits of the moral person and of the object ;
and it is courage in so far as it carries out and vindicates the
just. Fidelity is courage in so far as it asserts itself in the
active overcoming of all hinderances ; it is justness in so far as
it manifests to the object only the measure of love which is
really felt for it ; and for the same reason it is temperateness.
Temperateness and fidelity correspond to each other in so far
as they both retain the moral person in a proper bearing in re
lation to the object ; justness and courage correspond to each
other in so far as they both resist all influences that are un
friendly to the moral. Temperateness and courage are purely
human virtues in so far as both presuppose a creature-limit
§ 139.] PURE ETHICS. 293
of the moral personality, and hence they can in no sense be
predicated of God ; fidelity and justness are also divine virtues
[1 John i, 9] because they presuppose only a difference of the
personal subject from the object, and a claim of the moral.
The former two have in their manifestation a negating char
acter, — presuppose an antagonism in which one phase must
be made subordinate ; the latter two bear a more affirmative
character, — are an express recognition and carrying out of the
moral rights of the object. Of a conflicting of the virtues
with each other there is no possibility.
Of the cardinal virtues here presented, three coincide with
the Platonic virtues ; but in the place of wisdom our classifi
cation gives fidelity. With the Greeks the making of wisdom
the fundamental virtue was quite consequential ; for all the
other virtues were a fruit of moral knowledge, but not of love.
From a Christian stand-point, where the moral freedom of the
will is conceived more highly and is not placed in so uncon
ditional a relation of dependence upon knowledge as with the
Greeks, and where, consequently, virtue inheres essentially in
the love-inspired will, wisdom is indeed conceived as a high
morally-to-be-acquired good, as the presupposition and attend
ant of all virtue, and is also in fact closely associated with love,
(§ 135), but still it cannot be regarded as a virtue proper. The
first and most essential manifestation-form of virtue as love
is persistent love, namely, fidelity, which consequently cannot
be classified under any one of the other virtues as a subordi
nate manifestation, but it must be placed at the head, as the
virtue dominating all the others.
(1) Fidelity (marie), thrown very much into the back
ground in heathen ethics, for the reason that, there, the ab
solutely firm basis of all morality, faith in the true God, was
lacking, comes in the Christian consciousness into the fore
ground. Human virtue, as lasting love, is an image of the
divine fidelity, which is presented in the Scriptures as one of
the most prominent of the divine attributes, and is almost al
ways associated with love, grace, and mercy [Gen. ix, 9 sqq.;
Exod. xxxiv, 6 ; Deut. vii, 9 ; ix, 5; xxxii, 4; 1 Sam. xii, 22;
Psa.Jxxxvi1 15; fCor. i, 9; x, 13; I Thess. v, 24; 2 Thess.
iii, 3; 2 Tim. ii, 13]. God's fidelity is loving grace; the
fidelity of man is humble obedience, and is hence a manifesta-
CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 139.
t5on of piety, — is, in ground and essence, fidelity toward the
faithful God [Matt, xxv, 21 ; 1 Cor. iv, 2] ; the holy walk of
the Christian is summed up in the word: "Be thou faithful
unto death" [Rev. ii, 10; comp. Psa. Ixxxv, 11, 12; Matt.
x, 22; Luke xvi, 10-12; 1 Cor. vii, 25].— True fidelity relates
not to a mere idea, to a mere law, but to a spiritual reality,
and chiefly to the personal spirit ; love loves only a loving
spirit. A merely conceived law cannot be loved ; hence there
can be no real fidelity to such, which is not in reality fidelity
to the holy law-giver. Fidelity toward man is morally with
out anchor unless it is based on fidelity to God ; for fidelity
can be based only on a perfectly firm foundation. Fidelity to
a creature in the absence of fidelity to God, would not be
a virtue but sin. Fidelity is the truthfulness of love ; a chang
ing love is mere inclination, and is not moral ; truth changes
not, and hence also moral love changes not. — As relating to
industrial activity in a temporal calling, fidelity appears as
diligence, which is only then morally good, and hence a virtue,
when it is a conscious persistence in our God-appointed moral
task [Prov. x, 4; xii, 27; 1 Thess. iv, 11].
(2) Justness or righteousness is the constant willingness to
the actual recognition of the rights of every moral personali
ty, as well those of God as those of man ; it is love in the
fulfilling of the command : " Render unto Cesar the things
which are Cesar's, and unto God the things that are God's "
[Matt, xxii, 21], — the imitating of the righteousness of God
which gives to each that which is his due. In the Scriptures
justness or righteousness is one of the most important of the
moral notions, and it appears even in its widest sense as the
respecting of the suum cuique; it is a manifestation of love,
and a never fully to be absolved debt [Rom. xiii, 8] ; and in
so far as it is a manifestation of reciprocal love it is thankful
ness (§ 125). It is for the reason that justness lovingly fulfills the
claims of God that it can lay claim to the essence of virtue in
general ; it is virtue in so far as virtue is a disposition of soul
recognizing the claims of God upon us. Christ sums up all our
moral relations to our fellows under the one head, justness,
and makes of this, in its fuller sense, the fundamental idea of
morality: "All things whatsoever ye would that men should
do to you, do ye even so to them, for this is the law and
§ 139.] . PUKE ETHICS. 295
the prophets " [Matt, vii, 12] ; this is not merely ordinary civil
justice, but the higher, — that which is an expression of love.
But all love seeks to maintain the harmony of existence, and
hence the divine order of the world, that is, the rights
of whatever truly is; and all human justness is a copy of the
divine [Deut. x, 17, 18.]
Justness adapts itself to the differences of existence and of
rights ; God has different rights from those of man, and
among men there exist, even in an unfallen state, different
rights, according to their differing conditions and relations ;
parents have different rights from those of the children, gov
ernors from those of the governed ; justness gives not to each
the same, but to eacli - that which is his due [Rom. xiii,
7-9], and thus realizes the harmony of existence. Even
toward nature there is a justness, inasmuch as nature, in vir
tue of its being good, has a claim upon the moral spirit (§ 127;.
Real justness therefore presupposes wisdom; its practice
becomes difficult, however, only where the harmony of exist
ence is already disturbed by sin. The Scriptures describe
justness manifoldly in its single manifestations [e. g. Lev.
xix; Job xxxi; Psa. xv; ci; Ezek. xviii, 6-9; Isa. i, 17; Jer.
xxii, 3 ; Zech. vii, 9, 10; viii, 16, 17; Luke vi, 38] ; the Deca
logue itself is but a description thereof. That Christian
justness or righteousness is not a merely human virtue but
essentially a gift of grace, need here only to be mentioned in
passing. As virtue simply and purely, it appears only in the
person of Christ [1 John ii, 1, 29 ; Acts iii, 14 ; 1 Pet. iii, 18].
(3) Temperateness, the self-discipline of the heart, the
aucj>poavv7j of the Greeks, is presented in the New Testament
in the narrower sense of e}'/cpur«a, while au^poavvrj has, here
also, only the more specific sense of modesty andirreproacha-
bleness of behavior [1 Tim. ii, 9 ; perhaps only in verse 15 in
a somewhat wider sense], but the adjective autypuv is used in
a more general sense [1 Tim. iii, 2; Tit. i, 8; ii, 5]. Tem-
perateness in the wider and full sense is the self-restraining
of the subject within his normal moral limits, a subordinating
of all self-seeking desires to unconditional obedience to the
moral law, and hence, on the one hand, as relating to sensu-
ousness, a controlling of the sensuous desires by the moral
reason, and, on the other, as relating to the spiritual, a con-
296 CHETSTIAN ETHICS. [§139.
trolling of self-love by love to God and to our neighbor, — a
maintaining of the rights of the rational spirit in its true
essence. That temperateness is at once also justness is self-
evident; it is but another phase of the same virtue. Even as
relating to the sensuous desires it is also justness, in so far
as these are restrained within their moral limits out of regard
to the higher rights of the spirit. Modesty, patience, and
obed lateness are special phases of this virtue; so also are
shame, pudicity and chastity, as a keeping of sexual sensu-
ousness within bounds, a subordinating of it to its higher
moral conditions ; shame and pudicity are rather the inner ele
ments, the state of the heart, and chastity rather the outward
manifestation ; they are an expression of the fact that this
sensuous instinct has absolutely no right per se, but only
in the service of wedlock-love. — Temperateness presup
poses indeed a difference and a possible antagonism between
selfish desires (especially the sensuous ones) and the mor
ally-rational consciousness, though not an actually-existing
antagonism and opposition. In its manifestation it is more a
negating virtue than justness, and yet its essence is very
affirmative. — This virtue becomes most difficult where the
individual energy stands forth most strongly over against gen
eral, rational right, and hence in the period of youthful vigor
when the consciousness of personal strength and of self-will
delights to cope with objective barriers, and seeks to cast
them off as trameling fetters, — when the strongly self-conscious
individuality delights to enjoy this consciousness, whether in
the enjoyment of sensuous pleasure, or in that of unbounded
freedom, or in that of will-assertion. Fidelity, justness, and
courage are, for vigorous youth, much more easily attained to
and preserved than the virtue of temperateness; but as all
the virtues are only different phases of virtue in general, and
as they are all connected with each other in a vital unit}',
hence the violation of one of them is necessarily also a viola
tion of the others ; intemperateness is, in every respect, per so
also an infidelity, an un justness and a cowardliness, and it
leads directly to a further development of these vices.
(4) Courage, the moral readiness to combat against what
ever opposes the moral end, — expressed by the Greeks by the
more limited uvSptia, and in the Scriptures by the higher and
§ 140.] PURE ETHICS. 297
more inward notion of nafifaaia [Eph. iii, 12; 1 Tim. iii, JO,
etc.], — is the being joyous and confident in the carrying out
of the moral idea on the basis of hopeful faith [Matt..v, 12;
Acts ii, 29; iv, 13, 29, 31; ix, 27, 28; xiii, 46; xiv, 3; xviii,
26; xix, 8; xxvi, 26; xxviii, 31; Rom. viii, 31 sqq. ; 2 Cor.
iii, 12 ; v, 6, 8 ; xii, 10 ; Eph. iii, 12 ; vi, 19, 20 ; Phil, i, 20 ;
1 Thess. ii, 2 ; Heb. xii, 3 ; Psa. cxviii, 5 sqq.]. The moral life
of the Christian is a constant struggle [Luke xiii, 24 ; 1 Tim.
vi, 12] as well against the outward hinderances of the moral
life as also against the inner opposing desires and against
carnal sloth and fear. Though both these forms of hin-
derance do not hold good in a strict sense for the unfallen
state, still we must doubtless admit that there were relatively
corresponding relations of a normal kind. During the
development of man toward his ultimate perfection there
constantly exists an, as yet, extra moral reality, namely,
nature within and without him, which is to be brought with
in the dominion of moral reason, and which is, as extra-
moral, also per se a barrier that is to be overcome by moral
effort ; however, it is not an active antagonism, and the effort
does not involve suffering. Self-love, in itself perfectly legiti
mate, needs also to be brought into perfect subordination to the
love of God, and the mastering of it requires conflict and
courage. This "parrhsesia" is not mere feeling, not mere
inward peace, but it is essentially a combat-courting courage,
a persistence in the moral struggle in virtue of joyous trust in
God. Absolutely sure of victory, it fears nothing and un
dauntedly carries out what it undertakes.
SECTION CXL.
In so far as God himself is the object of love, and
in so far as, in the creature, the divine phase, the image
of God, is brought into prominence, the above four
virtues appear under a special form expressive of the
essence of piety, as piety -virtues, which, however, do
not stand along-side of the other virtues, but are in
fact the highest and God-directed phase of the same.
Fidelity as relating to God appears as moral faith ;
298 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. f§ 140.
justness as moral devotedness or pious obedience ; tem-
perateness as filially-pious humility, as child-minded-
ness ; and courage as hope or confidence.
The piety-virtues, only partially corresponding to the so-
called theological virtues, are the essence proper, the ground,
the kernel and the crown of the virtues in general, — are neither
super-ordinate nor co-ordinate to the four cardinal virtues, but
are their essential substance and spirit itself.
1. Faith, designated in Scripture by the same expression
with fidelity, is the loving response to God's fidelity to us, and,
as an expression of our fidelity toward the faithful God, is a
high moral requirement, — is a loving confiding of our own
being and life to the faithful love and truthfulness of God,
a holding-fast of love to God. Were faith a mere holding for
true, then it would not be a moral requirement, and hence
the possession of it not a virtue ; as fidelity, however, it is a
virtue (§ 113). Faith is reckoned to man for justness or
.righteousness [Rom. iv, 3; Gal. iii, 6], for the reason that,
as fidelity, it is itself justness toward God, and the root and
essence of all righteousness.
2. Obedience toward God, moral decotedness, vTraKof?, is the
inclination and willingness that God's claim upon us should
be perfectly realized in our moral conduct, and hence that we
should do that which, as God's creditors, we owe to Him
[Rom. viii, 12] ; we meet God's claim upon us only by perfect,
voluntary and joyous submission to his will [Exod. xix, 8;
xxiv, 3, 7; Deut. iv; xi, 1; xii, 1, 32; xiii, 4, 18;, Jer. vii,
23; Luke i, 38; James iv, 7 ; 1 Pet. i, 2, 14, 22; comp. Gen.
vi, 22; vii, 5; xii, 4; xxi, 13 sqq. ; xxii, 1 sqq.] ; the obedient
are by that very fact the just [Hos. xiv, 9; Mai. iii, 18; Matt^
xxv, 37; 1 John iii, 7]; obedience is the fruit of faith [Pleb.
xi, 8], the expression of the child-mindedness of believers
toward the Father. The Son of man is the holy pattern of
obedience [Rom. v, 19; Gal. iv, 4; Phil, ii, 8; Heb. v, 8;
Isa. liii].
3. Humility, Ta-rri-ivofytoavvr), the moral and reverential con
fining of ourselves within the limits fixed by God for us as
creatures and for each of us in his special moral calling, is an
absolute duty even of sinless man, inasmuch as the moral crea-
§ 140.] PURE ETHICS. 299
ture, as related to God, is and lias nothing which is not to be
recognized as depending upon God's support ; hence it holds
good also of the angels [Col. ii, 18], and of Christ as the Son
of man in his subordination to God [Matt, xi, 29 ; comp. xx,
28; Phil, ii, 6-8; Heb. xii, 2; John xiii, 4 sqq.]. All moral
humility is at bottom humility before God [James iv, 10 ;
comp. Gen. xxxii, 10; Luke xviii, 14], even as the first sin
consisted in a lack of humility; when humility before men
does not rest on this ground, it sinks to abjectness and serv-
ile-mindedness ; it is only in humility before God that man
learns to harmonize humility before men with a proper respect
for his own moral dignity. All humility rests on faith and is
also obedience ; its essence, however, is a keeping Avithin
bounds, a self-retention within our divinely-appointed posi
tion [Matt, v, 3; xxiii, 11; Luke xxii, 24 sqq. ; Acts xx, 19;
Rom. xii, 3, 16; Eph. iv, 1, 2; Phil, ii, 3; Col. iii, 12; 1 Pet.
v, 5 ; James iv, 6]. Child-like humility aims not at high
things, but only at the highest, which in fact are accessible
only to child-mind edness, — retains always toward God its
filial character [Matt, xviii, 3, 4]. Humility is a purely Chris
tian virtue; to Greek ethics it was almost unknown (§ 21).
4. Hope, IXnlf, mentioned in connection with faith and love
as a high virtue [1 Cor. xiii, 13], directs itself with firm con
fidence toward the highest good as the goal to be attained to,
toward the idea of the good [Rom. viii, 24], and is not a mere
expecting of a future happiness, but a joyful trusting faith-
born confidence that God means it well with us, and will also
actually enable us to reach our moral goal, provided we hon
estly strive toward it, — is, in a word, that moral courage in
God that is sure of its victory, and that has consequently
already overcome all inward obstacles to the outward victory ;
it is not merely an involuntary state of feeling, but a morally-
acquired good. All hope is faith [Heb. xi, 1], but it is also
moral self-surrender and child-like humility, for it expects the
victory not from itself but from God. The hope that is fixed
merely upon created things is vain and sinful; but moral
hoping in God does not end in disappointment [Rom. v, 5],
and all moral courage is based upon it [Psa. ix, 10; xxv, 2;
xxxi, 15 ; xl, 4 ; Ivi, 4 sqq. ; Ixii, 6 ; xci, 2 ; cxii, 7 ; John xvi,
33; Rom. iv, 18; v, 2, 4, 5; xii, 12; Phil, iii, 1; iv, 4;
300 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 140.
1 Cor. i, 10 ; iii, 12, etc.]. God is a God of hope [Rom. XT, 13],
because all hope is based on him, and relates to his promises.
The word of the faithful God is the ground, the contents and
the vitality of all true hope. Hope is a virtue belonging es
sentially only to the kingdom of God ; among heathens only
the Persians have as much as a darkly-groping hope ; the
Greeks looked but dismally into the future, and their ethics
knows nothing of hope as a virtue ; in the Old Testament,
however, we meet with it almost on every page ; it is the
key-note of the religiously-moral life, constantly bursting out
in inspired strains ; the Christian's hope, as fulfilled in Christ,
awakens and gives ground for new hope.
As all virtue Avhatever is a force and a motive to moral ac
tion, much more is this true of the piety-virtues. All moral
action directs itself essentially toward a yet to be attained
good, and which consequently exists primarily only in thought ;
hence the moral motive is not merely love to an existing en
tity, but at the same time also love to a, as yet, not existing
one, to a merely conceived one, the realization of which, how
ever, is, in virtue of our love to the truly existing primative
ground of all morality, absolutely sure to us, — hence it is,
essentially, faith in the living and truthful God, and hope of
the realization of the highest good. In virtue of this pious
believing and hoping, as springing from our love to God,
fidelity in our temporal calling becomes joyous perseverance ;
and in our working for the spiritual and the eternal, it be
comes enthusiasm.
Observation. The systematic development of the cardinal
virtues has ever been one of the most weighty and difficult
points in ethics. Plato was the first to present the four vir
tues, which were adopted by Sts. Ambrose and Augustine, and
which then held sway through the entire Middle Ages and up
to the most recent times ; and to these were added and super-
ordinated, without any clear connection, the three theological
virtues (§ 31). The Greek classification of the virtires is,
however, entirely unadapted to the Christian notion of virtue,
as the violent construction of them, to which even Augustine
had to resort, abundantly manifests ; while with the Greeks
the fundamental virtue was wisdom, in Christianity it is love,
love to the loving, personal God ; this love to God was en-
§ 140.] PURE ETHICS. 301
tirely lacking to the Greeks, because with them its certain
object was also lacking. Protestant ethics sought out, there
fore, with a correcter consciousness, new paths, and that too
from the very beginning (§ 37). The three cardinal virtues
of Calvin : sbbrietas, justitia, pietas, do not, however, exhaust
the material, and they admit of no proper organic union, be
cause pietas is not co-ordinate to the other two, but super-
ordinate. Scbleieniiacher's cardinal virtues (§ 48) : wisdom,
love, discretion and perseverance, are, in spite of all the dia
lectical skill bestowed in their development, of a merely ar
tificial character, and are least of all adapted to Christian
ethics, — to which in fact he does not apply them ; the Platonic
virtues admit of a much more natural development. In the
system of Schleiermacher, love is by no means presented in its
full Christian significancy, least of all as love to God (which
is in fact regarded as an unapt expression), but it is presented
only as the "vivifying virtue, as working forth out of itself
into the world, namely, into nature," — as manifesting reason
in its action upon nature ; reason is the loving element, nature
the loved ; love to God is true only as love to nature (Syst.
§§ 296, 303 sqq.) ; this is almost the very opposite of the Chris
tian notion of love. C. F. Schmid accepts this classification
under a more Christian form, without, however, developing
it in greater fullness (Christl. Sittenl., p. 528). — Most peculiar
of all is Rothe's classification (Eih. 1 ed., § 645 sqq.}. He gives
two virtues of the self-consciousness or rationality, and two
virtues of self-activity or freedom. (1.) Individually-determ
ined rationality is geniality, — aptness for an absolutely in
dividual cognizing, so that the same can absolutely be accom
plished by no other person — the artistic virtue proper; to it
belong courage, cornposedness, modesty, grace, ' sympathy,
confidence, etc. (2.) Universally-determined rationality is
wisdom — aptness for a universal cognizing, so that the same
may absolutely be accomplished by every other spirit in the
same manner ; it appears under the forms of considerateness,
impartialness, sobriety, instructiveness, benevolence, fairness,
etc. (3.) Individually determined freedom is originality, the
virtue which specifically qualifies for individual forming, — the
social virtue proper ; to it belong valor, temperateuess, chas
tity, dignity, unselfishness, fidelity, etc. (4.) Universally-
302 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 141.
determined freedom is the strength which leads to a universal
forming, that is, to laboring and acquiring, — the public or
civic virtue proper ; it appears under the forms of persistence,
patience, self-control, eloquence, beneficence, magnanimity,
etc.
II. MORAL COMMUNION AS A FRUIT OF THE MORAL
LIFE.
SECTION CXLI.
All moral activity is of a communion-forming char
acter, and all true communion is an expression of
love, — in nature an expression of immanent divine
love, in humanity, an expression of human love.
The highest end of the moral life is indeed the
full morally-acquired communion with God, but man,
as an individual being placed in natural and spiritual
relations to other creatures, fulfills his moral destiny
not in an exclusive communion with God, but only in
a communing at the same time with the children of
God, and hence he has it as a moral duty to form
this his relation to other men into a moral com
munion, without which his personal perfection cannot
be reached. The most primitive natural communion
is sexual communion, from which naturally arises
the second form, that between parents and children ;
both forms are to be raised from the merely natural,
to the moral communion of the family.
As all love presupposes some form of communion, though it
be ante-moral and merely natural, hence the moral forming of
this communion is not an absolutely new creating of a com
munion, but the spiritual exalting of one that already exists
naturally. Though moral communion with God is the highest
good, still this does not exclude, but includes, a communing
with other rational creatures, for God is himself in communion
§ 141.] PURE ETHICS. 303
with them. Mystical quietism is but a refined self-seeking,
and conflicts with the essence of Christianity ; for God did
not' create mere isolated beings, but destined them for each
other; " it is not good," not in harmony with the moral desti
nation of the race, " that man should be alone," for an isolated
person lacks a very essential sphere of moral activity — that
upon which he can not only (as in his relation to God) appro
priate and obey, and not only (as in his relation to nature)
dominate, but also, as relating to beings like himself, form
and appropriate at the same time in mutual moral reciprocity.
Without moral communion with other men morality cannot
come to its full development ; communion is not a mere inact
ive condition, but it is a productive good, a condition of new,
higher morality. This of itself is a condemnation of the her
mit-life ; of such a life the Scriptures 'know nothing ; solitude
may indeed be salutary as a preliminary preparation for a call
ing that requires great collection of soul [Luke i, 80], as in
deed the Son of man himself resorted thereto for a while
[Matt, iv] ; but the Sabbath-introspection of the soul cannot,
as opposed to an active life among men, be made the exclu
sively-legitimate life. The recluse life, even where the
severest discipline is exercised against the sinful nature, is an
immoral renouncing of the moral duties of man toward his
fellows, a dissolving of the kingdom of God into mere atoms,
into mere isolated individuals, and hence it was utterly foreign
to the earliest Church.
The communion of man with his fellows is primarily of a
merely natural character; but man is to have in his whole
being and nature, and above all in his spiritual nature, nothing
which he has merely naturally received and not also morally
appropriated to, and formed for, himself. The communion
of the sexes, as well as that between parents and children, is
primarily as yet extra-moral, — does not yet distinguish man
from the brute ; both forms of communion need to be raised
to a moral character, otherwise they will sink to an immoral
one ; even parental love may be sinful.
304 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 142.
(a) THE FAMILY.
SECTION CXLII.
Natural sexual love is, as a manifestation of the
divine love ruling in nature, per se a type of moral
communion, but it does not itself suffice to create this.
The merely natural, and hence extra moral, element
of the same is confined entirely to the unconscious
natural inclination ; the exalting of the mere inclina
tion' to real love is never an ante-moral or extra-
moral process, but springs of moral determination ;
the actual accomplishing of the sexual communion
should never follow upon mere natural love, but
must, as a free act, be simply a manifestation of the
already realized moral communion of the persons in
virtue of moral love. Without this condition it is
not extra-moral, but anti-moral, as an actual destruc
tion of moral communion.
Sexual communion is the first possible communion, and
hence has in nature its first incitation. As man was not an
absolutely other and new creation but the divinely-animated
nature-creature, so also is the first moral communion not one
that was absolutely new-created by man, but a morally-
exalted natural communion. Sexual love prevails throughout
animated nature, — is its highest life-function, and, therefore,
also the highest manifestation of the divine love as ruling
in nature The flower develops in its sexual bloom its highest
force and splendor ; the brute has, in sexual love, the highest
pleasure-feeling, that of a perfect, mutually life-unifying har
mony with its like; it is the feeling that it is not a mere iso
lated unit, but a living member of a higher whole. It is not
man's duty to suppress this life-manifestation, but to exalt
it, — to raise the unconsciously-prevailing love of the animal
into a conscious and moral love. Though in idea the same,
the sexes are in reality different, mutually complementing
each other to the full idea of man. The somewhat clumsy
§ 142.] PUKE ETHICS. 305
myth as to the original androgynous forms of humanity, as
given in Plato's Symposium^ is but a. distorted echo of the
thought, much more suggestively expressed in the Biblical
account, of the formation of Eve from a rib of Adam.
Love, according to its inner idea, is not only preservative
but also communicative, awakening new life and promoting
it ; hence the propagation of the human race is conditioned
on the highest earthly love. All l<5ve is an appropriating and
a forming at the same time. In sexual love the sexes mutually
appropriate and form each other as natural beings, though in
different degrees; the spiritually moral appropriating and
forming must, however, precede the natural, as its moral
consecration and conditionment ; the reversing of this rela
tion, the letting the moral and personal love simply follow
the sexual communion, is morally impossible, as thereby the
latter is degraded to a purely bestial, immoral character, and
cannot become the starting-point of a moral communion.
A possession is moral only as property, that is, in virtue of
its having been morally-acquired and appropriated ; now the
communion of the sexes is the complete giving up and appro
priating of each party as the property of the other ; hence
when it is not a manifestation and fruit of an already-accom
plished, morally-personal, spiritual unity, — of the appropria
tion of the persons as moral and hence as permanent inalienable
property, — it is then not only not a simply natural action but
an immoral throwing away of one's moral personality, an ir
remediable ruining of th£ moral personality of the other.
Lost innocence is irrecoverable ; mere sexual communion
without moral love is a defamation. But moral love is in its
very essence permanent ; that which is by love appropriated
to the person as property is inalienable, — can be destroyed only
with the personality itself. Whoredom is not mere bestiality,
but, as a moral self-abandonment, it is below bestiality; for
the brute does not throw itself away. Even in the case of
the first man, moral love preceded sexual communion. " And
Adam said: this is now bone of my bones and flesh of my
flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out
of man" [Gen. ii, 23 sqq.]. This is a child-like, natural ex
pression of moral love, the full consciousness of the harmony
and unity between man and wife ; the wife is the man's other
VOL. 11—21
306 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§143.
ego, belongs to him, is destined to him as property, as also he
to her; she is of, and for, him. Hence to this expression of
moral love joins itself, as a sequence, the further thought :
' ' therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother and shall
cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh ;" the becom
ing one in the flesh follows only from and upon the being
one in spirit ; they become one also sexually, because they
have mutually recognized each other as joined in a personally-
spiritual unity. The moral consciousness of the personal be
longing of the one to the other, the free recognition of their
mutually-possessing each other as property, is the indispens
able antecedent moral condition of sexual communion. With
out this moral condition, that which is the acme of the nature-
life, the innermost center of nature-mysteries, the synthesis
of all that is wonderful in nature-force, namely, the generative
act, — which, as moral, is a sacred act, — becomes an absolutely
immoral one, and sinks man toward the brute more than any
other natural action.
SECTION CXLIII.
Moral sexual love being a love of the persons to
each other, and the moral personality of the one
being per se equal to that of the other in moral worth,
and consequently also in moral rights, hence that
giving up of the one person, as a complete moral
possession, to the other, which is required by sexual
communion, is only then possible when this sur
render is a mutual one, that is, when the two persons
belong to each other exclusively ; and hence moral
sexual love exists only in the marriage of two per
sons, in view of sexual communion and consequently
of complete personal life-communion. Polygamy is
morally impossible, — is but legally regulated whore
dom, makes a real personal love-surrender, and hence
marriage itself, impossible. For the same reason,
marriage is morally indissoluble. Marriage is not a
mere right, is not simply allowed, but it is a divinely-
§ 143.] PURE ETHICS. ' 307
willed and expressly ordained moral communion, and
hence the entering upon it is not a merely natural
but also a religious action, which, standing as it does
under the express promise of the divine blessing, is
very naturally invested with a religious consecration.
The extra-Christian notion of polygamy absolutely excludes
the moral essence of marriage •, in it the woman is indeed the
man's property, but not man the woman's ; this involves a dif
ference in the moral worth and rights of the sexes, which,
from a moral stand-point, is impossible; for it denies the
moral personality of the woman ; and in fact, in polygamy,
woman is only a slave. Of the polygamy of the .Old Testa
ment it is not here the place to speak. The primitive divine
institution of marriage recognizes only the marriage with one
woman, and the New Testament presupposes this throughout
[Matt, xix, 3 sqq. ; 1 Cor. vii, 2 ; xi, 11 ; Eph, v, 28 ; 1 Tim.
iii, 2].
As marriage rests entirely on personal love to a person,
hence it is not a mere legal relation ; and as in it the persons
belong entirely to each other, — are to each other a mutual
property, the essence and strength of which is love, — hence
to view marriage as a merely legal relation not only falls be
low the moral idea of marriage, but is per se immoral, for a
contract-relation presupposes the non-presence of mutually-
confiding love, — excludes a perfect moral life-and-body-com-
munion, the reciprocal belonging to each other as a moral
property ; on the contrary, such a contract tends to raise be
tween the two persons, as exclusively bent on their personal
advantage, the separation-wall of distrust, and delivers the
one consort to the other for mere stipulated service and use.
As little as a contract-relation is conceivable between parents
and children in their mutual family duties, just so little is it
morally possible between husband and wife. Sexual com
munion when based on a mere legal contract is only respect
able concubinage ; it stands essentially on an equal footing
with polygamy. — The generating of children is not so much
the purpose as rather the blessing of marriage ; its purpose is
absolutely the fulfilling of moral love ; marriage is and con
tinues in full validity even where this blessing is wanting.
308 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§143.
The legal principle that "the chief end of marriage is the
generating and training of children," is consistent rather
with a legalized concubinage or with polygamy than with the
moral idea of marriage, and would in consistency require that
barrenness be regarded as a perfectly valid ground for di
vorce.
For the simple reason that consorts belong to each other as
moral property, marriage admits morally of no dissolution. A
moral property is inseparably united with the moral peculiarity,
and hence with the personal essence of the individual, — is,
like this essence, inalienable. It is as impossible morally to
dissolve a marriage as it is for a person to separate from his
personal life, his peculiar character, and hence from his own
self; and, as a violent internal anarchy of the spirit, namely,
in insanity, is conceivable only in a sinfully-disordered state,
so also is a dissolution of marriage conceivable only in a state
of sinfully morbid disorder, — it is in fact an ethical insanity,
a moral ruin of the two self-separating consorts. Christ affirms
this moral impossibility of divorce [Matt, xix, 3-9], and bases
his doctrine on this significant reason: "They are no more
twain, but one flesh ; what therefore God hath joined together,
let not man put asunder." This is not two reasons but only
one ; God has joined together marriage in his primative institut
ing of it, that is, by his creative will, which established the es
sence of marriage to consist in the fact that the two consorts
should be one flesh, one single absolutely inseparable life as
to soul and body, even as every living body is a single in
separable whole, and any dissevering of it, the death of the
same. The indissolubility of marriage is still more strongly
emphasized by Christ by his citing the words of the Creator
at its institution : ' ' For this cause shall a man leave father
and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they twain shall
l>e one flesh." Man is not to abandon his father and mother
with his love, though he may outwardly withdraw from them
in order ta b,uild up a family of his own; but still more inti
mate than the bond between parents and children, is the bond
between husband and wife, who mutually fully belong to each
other. Now if the bond of , love and unity between parents
und children can never be dissolved without great moral vio
lence, still less can the bond between husband and wife be
§ 143.] PURE ETHICS. 309
morally dissolved. The unity of the "flesh" is not to be
understood merely, nor even chiefly, of the bodily union, but
alludes to the highest and perfect moral union of the whole
life of both body and soul. A merely spiritual unity is desig
nated by jj-in napSia xai ^v^ [Acts iv, 32], but husband and
wife are also elf piuv aapKa [1 Cor. vi, 16; comp. vii, 4; Epb.
v, 28 sqq."\.- Adultery alone works divorce, and all divorce is
in its moral essence adultery [comp. 1 Cor. vii, 10], and, as re
lating to the children, a ruthless annihilating of the family.
It is of high significancy that the Scriptures expressly affirm
the divine institution of marriage, and give to moral marriage
a promise of special blessing [Gen. i, 28 ; ii, 24 ; ix, 7 ; Matt.
xix, 4; comp. Psa. cxxviii, 3; cxxvii, 3-5]. Hence marriage
cannot in any sense be implicated in unsanctity or lowness, so
as to be inconsistent with a truly spiritual and holy life ;
otherwise God, when he introduced woman to man as called
to be holy, would have encouraged him to turn aside from his
high destination, and Adam would have had not merely the
right but in fact also the duty of declining this gift of divine
love ; the creation of the woman would really have been the
first temptation. In a normal, uncorrupted state of humanity
it is not only the right, but also the duty, of the morally and
corporeally mature individual to live in this God-instituted
state of marriage ; it is not marriage itself but the particular
choice of the consort that is left to the particular, personal
preference of love. God's declaration: "It is not good that
the man should be alone ; I will make him an help-meet for
him," distinctly implies that celibacy per se is not the better
but the less good state, — as well for man, for he ought to have
a help-meet, as also for woman, for her express destination is
to be a help-meet for the man. Of the relations of marriage
after the fall into sin, it is not here the place to speak.
The fact that in all not totally savage nations marriage is
not constituted simply by the consent of the two persons, but
by some sort of solemn and, most usually, religious ceremony,
is a significant implication of the moral essence of marriage ;
and the importance that a people places on the religiously-
moral consecration of marriage, is a pretty safe criterion of
its morality in relation to the sexual life.
310 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 144.
SECTION CXLIV.
The two consorts stand to each other, as moral per
sons, on an equal footing ; they both find their union
in a complete devoted love, and hence, in fact, in a
loving, free subordination to the moral law. The
consorts complement each other also in spiritually-
moral respects; and it is only in respect to this har
mony-conditioning complementing that the woman is
in many things rather guided than self-determining.
This, however, is not a real domination of the man over
the woman as over a subject, but only a conditional
super-ordination of the man as the actively-guiding
unity-point of the common life. As a moral relation
marriage rests on freedom, that is, on free mutual
choice ; consequently it presupposes the moral matu
rity of the two lovers. This freedom of choice, how
ever, is not irrational caprice, but determines itself
in view of the true life-harmonizing, reciprocally-com
plementing, personal peculiarity of the two parties,
and receives its moral ratification by its being freely
recognized on the part of the moral community, and
primarily of the family.
But moral equality is not sameness. As the final destina
tion of all moral beings is the same, hence a difference of the
moral worth of the sexes is not conceivable [Gal. iii, 28 ;
1 Pet. iii, 7J. The inferior position of the female sex in all
non-Christian nations is a sign of moral unculture, which even
the Greeks did not entirely put off. The account of the crea
tion of woman indicates her true dignity ; taken from man's
heart, she belongs to man's heart, and is not a slave at his
feet; she is a part of him, — is not merely flesh of his flesh
but also soul of his soul. The antithesis of sex. which is not
of a merely bodily character, conditions indeed also very differ
ent moral duties ; but these duties are absolutely equal in
moral worth. The precedency of the woman in the interior
§144.] PURE ETHICS. 311
of the family is in no respect less than that of the man in the
civic sphere ; and though, in virtue of this difference, the wom
an is, in many respects, — especially in those of the external,
public life, that is, of the outward-directed activity, — prop
erly subject to the man as the natural leader in this sphere
[Eph. v, 22, 23], yet, as an offset to this, the man is in his
turn properly dependent on the womaft in the sphere of
female activity; it is not to the credit of the man to dominate
in the kitchen and nursery. Each rules, by the constitution
of nature, in his own sphere ; and it is perfectly in order for
the woman, in her sphere, to exercise a determining influence
on the man (§ 69). The historical tyrant-relation of the man
over the woman is not the original and true one, and is incon
sistent with true confiding love and with the dignity of
womanhood, and is expressly explained in the Scriptures as a
punishment for sin [Gen. iii, 16]. On the other hand, how
ever, a- certain guiding super-ordination of the man is the
original and normal relation, and is in no respect a fruit of the
fall ; Adam was as guilty as Eve ; sin was effectual only in
changing the original normal subordination of the woman
into a relation of senitude. Though the woman is, in more
than one respect, the " weaker vessel " [1 Pet. iii, 7], neverthe
less she is a " co-heir of grace ; " and she has, though indeed
another and peculiar, yet not a less noble moral life-task than
the man ; as the help-meet of man it is hers faithfully to pre
serve and foster that which the stronger and more independ
ent-willed man actively creates. The strong vital initiative,
the fixing of the goal, and the task of producing, are the work
of the man ; in this work the woman is to be for him, to aid
him, to have him for the vital central-point of the activity
peculiar to her [1 Cor. xi, 8, 9]. Though the woman had
first sinned, and the man was thus led astray by her, yet the
offended and sentencing God turns himself first to Adam, and
requires account of him, and then afterward to Eve; Adam
was in duty required to strengthen and dissuade the yielding
and sinning woman, and not to let himself be led by her.
The contracting of marriage is neither a mere business-
transaction nor a fruit of a simple falling in love ; where
moral love does not form the marriage, there it is desecrated.
Hence marriages cannot be planned and brought about simply
312 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 144.
by parents, no more than can the parents practice virtue for
their children; the moral must be accomplished by each for
himself. The free personal choice that is absolutely neces
sary to marriage proper is not to be made arbitrarily or by
hap-hazard ; it aims essentially at the realization of the com
plete life-unity of the two persons, to the end of moral com
munion. This unity, and hence this perfect harmony, pre
supposes a difference and at the same time a similarity of the
spiritually and bodily self-complementing persons. The dif
ference consists in the normal spiritual and corporeal antithe
sis of the sexes in general, and, in particular, in the respective
peculiarity of the persons, which finds, largely, in the opposite
peculiarity its complement, and hence its moral satisfaction ;
a fiery, impassioned temperament is advantageously comple
mented by one that is gentle and calm. The similarity con
sists in the essential agreement of the persons, not merely in
their moral and spiritual, but also in their physical peculiari
ties, — a similarity which can well exist in the midst of large
difference. Without the similarity there would be no una
nimity ; without the difference there would be no mutual com
plementing, and hence no mutual attraction. The selecting
for marriage is a finding of the complementing personality,
and is free and unt'ree at the same time. There lies, indeed,
in this finding, something of the mysterious, something which
transcends the dialectical consciousness ; and an anticipatory
feeling antecedes, even in a normal state of things, the definite
recognizing of the person ; the matter should not rest, how
ever, at the stage of mere feeling, but the person should at
once exalt it to a rational consciousness, — should transfigure
the ante-moral love-feeling into rational love.
The morally-rational character of the contracting of mar
riage is recognized by usages prevalent among all not utterly
uncultured nations, and is guaranteed by the fact that it is
not left to the mere discretion of the individuals, but is sub
ject to the ratifying recognition of the moral community, and
hence primarily of the parents concerned [comp. 1 Cor. vii,
37]. Though parents are not entitled so far to represent their
children as to choose consorts for them, yet they arc perfectly
entitled to ratify the choice of their children by their
approval.
§145.] PURE ETHICS. 313
SECTION CXLV.
Marriage as productive is the basis of the more ex-
tended family , which, like marriage, is not a merely
natural but essentially a moral relation. The family
members stand to each other either in the relation of
equality, as husband and wife or as brothers and sis
ters, or in that of super-ordination and subordination,
as parents and children. The relation between par
ents and children is the iirst inequality among men,
and the presupposition and type of all other relations
of super-ordination and subordination. Parents and
children stand to each other in the relation of moral
personalities, and hence also of mutual moral duties ;
parents have, in relation to their children, prepon-
deratingly the duty of forming, and hence of educat
ing, during the progress of which, however, the con
stantly and necessarily therewith-connected duty of
sparing, rises gradually to greater prominence as the
development advances, until finally it predominates,
and the child has attained to its moral majority. As,
however, in a process of normal development, the
parents also constantly advance spiritually and mor
ally, hence they always retain their super-ordinate
relation to the children even as matured ; their form
ative influence on the children can never cease, and
never gives place to a relation of moral equality with
them. The children, on their part, continue always,
though not in a constantly like manner, subject to
the parents in reverential obedience, which, however,
as itself resting upon love to God, is ever also con
ditioned thereby.
The difference between consorts and blood-relatives rests on
the difference between moral and natural communion. In
314 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 145.
both cases the communion is not only spiritually-moral but
also corporeally-natural. With consorts, however, the bodily-
natural communion rests on an antecedent moral communion ;
and with blood-relatives the moral communion rests on the
precedent corporeally-natural communion; the former become
corporeally one because they love each other, the latter love
each other because in blood they are already one ; the former
proceed from an original state of separation, toward union ;
the latter tend from their original union to a state of separa
tion ; blood-relationship proper precludes sexual communion.
The fact that relatives are bound to each other by especially
clos£ bonds of love [Gen. xiii, 8, 9 ; xiv, 14 sqq. ; xviii, 23
sqq. ; xxix, 13 sqq. ; Exod. xviii, 5 sqq. ; Ruth i; ii, 20; Luke
i, 38, 40, 58; comp. Job xix, 13; Psa. xxxi, 12; Ixix, 8],Tloes
not conflict with the more general love of neighbor.
In the family begins, now, moral society with all its normal
differences. Husband and wife do not as yet constitute a so
ciety, for they are one flesh ; nor do parents and children form
one, for although they are one spirit, yet they stand to each
other in the relation of super-ordination and subordination.
Persons who are entirely alike, and who stand to each other in
absolutely like relations, constitute indeed a multitude, but
not a society; where there is no vital all-guiding nucleus, no
throbbing heart for the body, no soul for the acting members,
there there is no living whole, no society. Inequality, unlike-
ness, lies in the essence of every moral society, — not an in
equality of the moral rights of personalities, but an inequality,
a difference, of spiritually-moral position in and relation to
society. Parents are the first princes, and true princes are the
fathers of their people ; patres was the title of distinction of
the Roman senators ; ' ' elders " is used in a like sense for the
leaders of moral society in almost all the free constitutions of
antiquity and also of the church. Parents are the guides of
their children by the grace of God, for children are a gift of
divine grace [Gen. xxi, 1 ; xxv, 21 ; xxix, 31 ; xxx, 6, 17 sqq.;
xxxiii, 5; Exod. xxiii, 26; Deut. vii, 14; Ruth iv, 13; 1 Sam.
ii, 21; Psa. cxxvii, 3; cxxviii, 3; comp. 1 Tim. ii, 15];
therein lies the right as well as the duty of the parents.
Guiding the children in God's name, standing in God's stead
for them [Eph. vi, 1; comp. Lev. xix, 32], they have not only
§ 145.] PURE ETHICS. 315
a right to reverential obedience, but also the duty of rever
ence-awakening training. Parental love is per se strictly nat
ural, hence it is found even in the natural man [Gen. xxi, 16 ;
xxxi, 28, 43, 50, 55; 1 Kings iii, 16 sqq.; Isa. xlix, 15; Matt.
ii, 18; Luke xv, 21 sqq. ; John iv, 47 sqq.], and consequently
very much more so in the pious [Gen. ix, 26, 27; xxi, 11, 12;
xxii, 2; xxiv; xxviii, 1-4; xxxvii, 3, 34, 35; xlii, 36 sqq.;
xliii, 14; xliv, 22, 30; xlv, 28; xlvi, 30; xlviii, 10 sqq.; Exod.
iij 2 sqq.; 2 Sam. xii, 16 sqq.; xiii, 30 sqq.; xiv; xviii, 33;
xix, 1 sqq.; Prov. x, 1; xv, 20; Jer. xxxi, 15; Matt, ii, 14;
Luke ii, 35, 44 ; John xix, 25].
It is the part of parents to cultivate their children into
morally-matured personalities ; this is not merely a right of
the parents, but also of the children, and hence, for the for
mer, a duty ; they are to impart to their children the spiritu
ally-moral attainments of their own spiritual development,
and consequently also those of humanity in general, so that
the children shall not have to go through again, in the very
same manner, the same absolutely new-beginning develop
ment as the parents, for this is simply the manner and char
acteristic of nature-objects, but that they may place them
selves in the current of history, and learn and appropriate to
themselves its spiritual results, and then, in their turn, carry
them further forward. All spiritual forming of the, as yet,
spiritually immature is an historical working, — an initiating of
the, as yet, immature spirit into the current and working of
history. Now, as the child is in fact to ripen on into a mor
ally-mature personality, and yet from the start already is, both
in essence and in faculties, a moral personality, hence the
forming of the same by the parents is never a strictly exclu
sive influencing, and hence, on the part of the child, never a
merely inactive receiving, but always also a spiritually-moral
co-operating of the child, a constantly increasing initiative
self-forming of the same, so that consequently from the very
start there must always'be united with the formative activity
upon the child, also a sparing bearing toward it ; and such a
forming is in fact education. — Education, — which, as aiming
at the moral goal, namely, harmony with God and with the
totality of moral being, must always be at the same time
a natural and a spiritual, a special and a general forming,
316 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ U5.
directed toward bringing the child to God and to God-sonship
{Gen. xviii, 19; Deut. vi, 7; xi, 19; xxxi, 12, 13; xxxii, 46;
Psa. Ixxviii, 3 sqq. ; xxxiv, 12; Isa. xxxviii, 19; Eph. vi, 4;
cornp. Luke ii, 27], — is a characteristic manifestation of ration
ality ; the brute needs no education, as it is never destined to
become free and moral. All created beings are, in their es
sence, naturally good ; but it is only by education that they
become morally good, and truly rational and free. Wherever
the morally uncultured and unmatured undertake to establish
liberty, there it soon results in unbridled license, and, as an
attendant thereof, in the coarse tyranny of the stronger. In
the want and requirement of education are implied a recog
nition and admission that the entire true essence of the child
is not conferred upon it immediately by nature, but must be
first acquired by free spiritual acts, and that too not by merely
individual acts, but by the spiritual appropriation of the
already extant spiritual attainments of humanity, — by spir
itual obedience toward the spiritually and morally mature.
The child cannot educate itself, nor can it on the other hand
simply be educated without its own moral co-operation ; but
it must willingly let itself be educated.
Reverence for parents, and, what is only another phase of
the same thing, for the aged in general, is regarded by all
nations, with the exception of the totally savage, as a sacred
duty [comp. Gen. ix, 23] ; and it is a sure sign of a deep
moral corruption of the spirit of a people where there is a
declension in the reverence of children for parents, and, in
general, of youth before old age; and more especially so
when this declension is not undeserved. In a morally-normal
development-course of humanity it is absolutely inconceivable
that old age should so deeply decline as to fall behind the
wisdom and moral maturity of the youth ; the superior wis
dom and knowledge of divine and human things would, in
virtue of the higher inner and outward experience, continue
to be the imperishable possession of old age ; and it belongs
among the most distressing evidences of the sinful disorder of
the human race, that in fact old age does frequently sink back
to childishness, and needs to be taken under the guardianship
of the children. If any one can regard this as the natural
order of life, let him also regard as foolish and groundless
§ 145.] PURE ETHICS. 317
the pain which every, not totally perverse, child's heart
experiences at the sight of such a sinking of the gray head,
before which it would fain only bow in reverence.
Children have, toward their parents, predominantly the
duty of appropriating, which, however, gradually passes over
more and more into a self-forming, though without ever
entirely breaking off from the formative influence of the
parents ; and the sparing bearing of the children toward the
parents can never, save under utterly corrupted conditions, be
transcended by their formative bearing toward them. The
formative influence of the children upon the parents, that
exists indeed from the very beginning, can, even after they
have become morally mature, assume only a secondary rank.
This predominatingly-receptive relation of the children to the
parents is that of filial reverence [Gen. xlv, 9 sqq. ; Exod. xx,
12; Lev. xix, 3; Prov. xxx, 17; Matt, xv, 4; Eph. vi, 2],
the outward expression of which is obedience [Prov. xxiii, 25 ;
Eph. vi, 1 ; Col. iii, 20]. Christ himself is the pattern also in
this [Luke ii, 51; John xix, 26]. — Children, when entering into
wedlock and establishing a new family, enter thereby indeed
into a greater independence of the parents [Gen. ii, 24], but
the bond between parents and children, the duty of the for
mer to care for the weal and the honor of the latter [Gen. xxxi,
48 sqq.; Deut. xxii, 13 sqq.], and that of the children to show
reverence for the parents, is not thereby dissolved.
The right of parents to obedience, and the" duty of children
to show it, are, however, essentially conditioned on the agree
ment or disagreement of the parental command with divine
will, and can never become per se and unconditionally bind
ing. For this right is not a merely natural but a moral one ;
the merely natural dependence of children on their parents
extends, as with brutes, only so far as the state of actual
helplessness and need extends; the moral dependence, how
ever, is a.permaneut one that is never to be dissolved. The
moral right of the parents to obedience rests on the fact that
they do not represent their own individual will, but the
divine will. And for this very reason the guilt of parents is
so deep when they misuse their moral mission to educate in
God's name, and lead the child away from God, placing their
own sinful will in the stead of the divine will.
318 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 146.
SECTION CXLVI.
Brothers and sisters sustain toward each other, in
the same manner as consorts, though only in moral
ly-spiritual respects, complementing relations; and
their mutual love forms an essential element in the
morality of the family-life ; but this complementing
is, because of the predominant like-character of the
parties, never perfect and all-sufficient, and hence
brothers and sisters naturally seek for complement
ing elements also outside of the family-circle. This
form of love which passes beyond the merely natural
communion and freely selects for itself the com
plementing personality, is friendship.
Also the mutual love of brothers and sisters is primarily of
a purely natural character and requires to be exalted to a
moral one [Gen. xxxiii; xxxiv; xlii, 24 sq. ; xliii, 16 sqq. ;
xliv, 18 sqq.; xlv, 1 sqq.; 1, 17 ; Exocl. ii, 4 sqq.; Psa.
cxxxiii, 1 ; Luke xv, 32]. Brothers and sisters can never
personally complement each other to such an extent as that
the need of friendship outside of the family-circle should not
arise ; they are originally too homogeneous, too similar, to ren
der attainable that full harmony that both requires, and per
fectly consists with, large difference. Brother and sister
complement each other much more than brother and brother
or sister and sister; and they in fact usually unite themselves
more intimately with each other than do brothers or sisters
among themselves; nevertheless there remains also here, and
especially as spiritual maturity draw's near, an unbridged
chasm, and there is felt the need of a harmony more vital —
one that is conditioned on a more strongly developed antithe
sis. It is not a loveless turning away from the family, but a
strictly legitimate impulse, when the boy and girl seek after
outside friendship. This does not interfere with the family-
love, but heightens it. Friendship is an enlarged brother-
and-sister love, or rather it is its complementing of itself out
side of the family proper ; it is brotherly love as resting upon
PURE ETHICS. 319
purely spiritual affinity. Hence friendship is usually stronger
in the period of transition from the original narrow family-
circle into new and more independent forms of life; and on.
the establishing of a new independent family-circle it is
usual for the friendship of the consorts with others to grow
less strong, and for new friendships to be less easily
formed ; wedlock-love occasions an enfeebling of friendship ;
he who in youth has had true friendships usually turns out to
be an affectionate consort ; and friendship with persons of the
other sex very readily develops itself into real sexual love,
and is consequently not without its essential dangers.
SECTION CXLVII.
.% _.
The necessity of the complementing of family
love by friendship, indicates of itself the reason of
the moral impossibility of marriage between near
Mood relatives. The instinct that prompts brothers
and sisters to seek friendship outside of the narrower
family-circle, prompts them also to seek for them
selves consorts outside of the same. The requisite
antecedent condition of marriage, a difference of the
bodily and of the spiritual peculiarities of the persons,
exists most feebly in near blood relatives ; and mar
riage is, in its very essence, a free moral communion
which does not spring from a natural communion,
but, on the contrary, itself gives rise to this. As
marriage presupposes a moral equality, and is a re
lation of homogeneous reciprocal love, hence it would
be, between parents and children, a revolting crime,
inasmuch as here the relation of reverence is insu
perable; also, as between brothers and sisters, it is,,
for all save the second generation of the race, abso
lutely inadmissible, partly for the reasons already
given, and in part because of that deep awe of the
parental blood which holds good also as towards
320 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§141-
brothers and sisters. .The antecedent moral presup
position of marriage is riot filial or brotherly love, but
"friendship.
The obstacle to marriage as found in blood-relationship is
one of the most difficult of ethical questions, not so much,
however, because of any kind of doubt as to its legitimacy,
as rather in reference to the moral grounds for this recogni
tion, which in fact is almost universal and which prevails in
almost all, even heathen, nations. With the adducing of mere
outward grounds of fitness, such as the avoidance of near-
lying temptation, very little is gained ; also it is difficult to
establish this prohibition, as a nature-law, from the practice
of animated nature in general, for brutes do not observe it.
The grounds lie deeper and are essentially of a spiritually-
moral character. In the first place, however, a distinction is
to be made between ascending and collateral blood relation
ship. Marriages between parents and children and within
other ascending and descending degrees of relationship are an
outrage even for our natural feelings in general [Lev. xviii ;
xx, 11 sqq. ; ICor. v, 1 sqq. ; comp. Gen. xix, 30 sqq.]. The
insuperable relation of reverence between children and parents
[comp. Gen. ix, 23] renders morally impossible any sexual
mingling, inasmuch as sexual communion rests upon the
closest confiding equality of the persons ; whatever conflicts
with filial and paternal love is absolutely immoral, and this
would unquestionably be attendant upon sexual communion.
The same is of course true of grand-parents and grand-chil
dren. The case stood originally somewhat different as far
as regards marriage between brothers and sisters; in this re
spect there occur in the general consciousness some, though
indeed very rare, exceptions. The Peruvians punished such
marriages witli death ; and yet for political reasons they pre
scribed them for their ruling Inca. In the case of the children
of Adam, God made an exception in the interest of the indis
pensably essential unity of the human race (§ 88). And the
unconditional prohibition of such marriages could only come
into force when the possibility of other alliances was fully
realized. In the legislation of Moses, the sexual mingling of
brothers and sisters was visited with anathemas and death
§ 147.] PURE ETHICS. 321
[Lev. xviii, 9, 11 ; xx, 17; Deut. xxvii, 22] ; and as early as in
the time of Abraham such marriages were utterly foreign even
to the heathen consciousness, as is evidenced by the fact that
Abraham, in order to protect himself, caused Sarah to pass as
his sister [Gen. xii, 13; xx, 2]. (That Sarah was really Abra
ham's half-sister in the stricter sense is not proved by Gen.
xx, 12, as the expression "daughter of my father" may also
designate Terah's grand-daughter, and it is not improbable
that she was the daughter of Haran, Abraham's brother, and
that her earlier name Iscah [Gen. xi, 29] was exchanged for
the title of honor, Sarai [my mistress, my wife] ; in verse 31
she is called Terah's daughter-in-law, which would hardly be
said had she been his daughter ; and whatever the facts may
be, the contracting of this marriage falls before Abraham's
call.)
The most immediate ground for the inadmissibility of mar
riage between brothers and sisters lies in the fact, that though
here the requisite likeness of disposition in the parties does
exist, yet on the other hand there is lacking that degree of
difference which is essential to a vital complementing har
mony; brothers and sisters are entirely too homogeneous in
their bodily and spiritual natures to give rise to a vital, fruit
ful, reciprocal influencing. Narcissus fell in love with his
own image, and passed, for this very reason, for a simpleton ;
and brother and sister are to each other, each, the image of
the other. No sensible man will select for himself as a friend
one who is only his strictly-resembling second-self, but, on
the contrary, such a one as, by his difference, will stimu-
latingly-complement himself ; the same holds good of husband
and wife ; of these, because of their constant uniformity of
life in marriage, it holds good in fact in a still higher degree.
This explains also the well-known fact that an actual falling
in love between brother and sister is among the rarest of oc
currences, even under circumstances where moral corruption
has taken deep root; (illustrated in the case of Amnon,
2 Sam. xiii, 1). To attempt to explain this natural phenomenon
simply from the express law is inadmissible, and for this rea
son among others, because this law, as existing among all
cultured heathen nations, can in fact be explained only from
a natural conviction, and because this sentiment prevails even
VOL. 11—22
322 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 147.
where in general no regard whatever is had to religious and
moral laws. This reason, however, is not fully sufficient, be
cause while indeed it has reference to, and accounts for, un
happy marriages, yet it does not explain why some marriages
should be regarded as criminal ; and, besides, in many cases,
where only too great differences exist between brothers and
sisters, it would not apply at all. A second reason for this
inadmissibility reaches deeper^ namely, that marriage as dis
tinguished from a merely natural communion, must rest essen
tially upon a purely moral free choice and act ; it exists in its
truth only where it does not proceed from natural communion
as developing itself into complete love, but where it first
creates this natural communion ; its purpose is to create love
and spread it abroad, and not merely to affirm a love which
is already strong from nature. Blood-relationship and mar
riage are twro different moral ordinances and bonds, which
are not to be intermingled with each other; marriage looks to
the uniting of a previously existing antithesis by love, and
not to the uniting or ratifying, a second time, of an already
existing natural unity. It is because of this peculiarity that
marriage forms the basis of all moral community-life, and
must therefore express in itself the essential character of this
life, namely, purely spiritual love. If the marriage of brothers
and sisters were admissible, then the family would tend to
hedge itself in upon its purely natural basis, — would grow up
animal-like to a merely natural, but not to a purely spiritual,
communion. There is need of the general dissemination of
love, as St. Augustine remarks, and this would be obstructed
by the possibility of marriage between brothers and sisters;
and family self-seeking in narrow-hearted seclusion would be
come almost inevitable ; marriage looks not merely to the
uniting together of two persons, but also of two families.
The moral development of a people as a whole imperatively
requires this breaking down of the walls of family s*eclusive-
ness, namely, the non permission of the marriage of brothers
and sisters; hence this prohibition is of high world-historical
significancy. — The chief ground, however, and one which ex
presses itself chiefly in our natural feelings, is reverence for
the parental blood which has passed from the parents over
upon the children, and which calls for a respectful avoidance
§148.] PURE ETHICS. 323
of fleshly-sensuous enjoyment. Man sees in his brother or
sister not merely the image, but also the blood of his parents
[comp. Lev. xviii, 9; vii, 8, 11 sgq., where this thought is im
plied]; and the feeling of reverential awe and shame that,
springs from this consciousness precludes any feeling of
sexual love. And in general the feeling of reverence is un
congenial to sexual love ; and when, as not unf requently occurs,
a maiden has stood in a reverential relation to the man who
offers himself to her as husband, there .the transition from this
feeling of reverence to that of conjugal love costs her a severe
and poignant struggle. — Where sin has actually taken deep
root, there arise other grounds for the inadmissibility of the
marriage of blood-relatives. But we must confine ourselves
here to the expression of the fundamental idea.
SECTION CXLVIII.
The family is a unitary vital whole also in relation
to its moral property; it is not a mere sum of simply
isolated persons of like name, but a body arid a soul
— a moral person with a. common moral honor and a
•possession of its own, iu which all the single members
participate.
The family has as a living unity, also me spirit, a common
moral life-purpose and a common moral peculiarity ; the
common life-purpose consists in the mutual promotion of the
moral life in one God-inspired spirit; the common peculiarity
is, spiritually, the moral honor of the family, and, outwardly,
its temporal possessions. The moral acquirements of one fam
ily member, especially of the head, pass over to the whole
family, and the deserts of the parents bear, in virtue of the
divine order of the world, fruits of blessing for the children,
and are rewarded upon them [Gen. xxvi. 4, 5, 24; xlix, 10, 26;
Exod. xx, 6 ; Deut. v, 10 ; vii, 9 ; 2 Sam. ix, 7 ; xxi, 7 ; 1 Kings
xi, 34>Psa. xxv, 13; xxxvii, 25 sqq.; cxii, 2, 3 ; Prov. xiv,
26; xvii, 6; xx, 7; Jer. xxxii, 18; comp. 1 Cor. vii, 14; Kom.
xi, 16] ; and the sins of the fathers are visited upon the chil
dren, and are for them a shame and a misfortune [Gen. ix, 25 ;
xx, 7, 17 sqq.; xlix, 7; Exod. xx, 5; xxxiv, 7; Lev. xxvi. 39;
324 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. t§ 149-
*
Num. xiv, 18 ; Deut. v, 9 ; vii, 9 ; 1 Kings xi, 39 ; 2 Kings
v, 27; Job v, 4; xxi, 19; xxvii, 14 ; Psa. xxxvii, 28; cix, 9, 10;
Prov. xi, 21; xvi, 5; Isa. xiv, 21; Jer. xviii, 21; xxxii, 18;
Lain, v, 7 ; Hos. iv, 6 ; comp. Matt, xxvii, 25], and the sins of
the children upon the fathers, as their disgrace [Lev. xxi, 9 ;
Prov. x, 1; xvii, 25; xxviii, 7; comp. Deut. xxii 13 sqq.], —
whereof we shall speak elsewhere more fully. The conscious
ness, deeply rooted in all cultivated nations, of a transmission
of deserts, of a moral nobility of family-lines, has a profoundly
moral basis; but this moral solidarity of the family is con
ceived even by the Old Testament more clearly and more dis
tinctly than was ever done in any heathen nation. This is
morally a very weighty thought. Man is made to feel that he
does not live and act as a merely isolated individual, but, on
the contrary, every-where and always as a member of a moral
whole, — that the fruits of his actions, be they good or evil,
pass over to those who belong to him and with whom he is
morally connected, and hence that in sinning he commits an
injustice not merely against himself, but also against aZZwhom
he calls his own. So the family is a divine ordinance, so is the
solidarity of moral deserts and guilts such also ; this is not
injustice but sacred justice, for the simple reason that man is
never a merely isolated individual. That which is true of the
spiritually-moral property of the family is true also of the
material property, and upon this rests the principle of
inheritance.
(6) MORAL SOCIETY.
SECTION CXLIX.
Moral society is the family as enlarged by its own
natural growth and by friendship, but which, in this
enlarging, assumes also an essentially different char
acter. Social communion differs from family-com
munion by the greater retreating into the back-ground
of the natural unity and at the same time of free per
sonal choice; society itself assumes an objective,
and, in some sense, nature-character ; and the place
§ 149.] PURE ETHICS. 325
of natural and free moral love is supplied by custom,
which becomes more or less an objectively-valid
power over the individuals. It differs, furthermore,
from the family in this, that it involves a communion
of a far more general character, one that absorbs into
itself the individual person far less, and requires
and brings about a more interrupted and only occa
sionally-exercised moral intercourse of its members.
The members of society sustain to each other the
relation Q*t friendliness, which is larger in extent, but
feebler in inner quality. and power, than friendship.
That form of love which manifests itself in friendli
ness, and which consequently constitutes the moral
essence of society, is the love of neighbor^ which, as
distinguished from more intimate love, does not elect
its own object, and is not directed toward particular
persons but toward man in general. Social com
munion realizes itself through mutual, spiritual and
natural, communicating, of which the latter form is
the expression and the medium of the former. Spirit
ual" communication may, however, take place only
within the limits conditioned by the family, and
hence only with some degree of moral reserve, —
should never become family-confidentiality.
The family throws itself open indeed, in a normal state of
things, to and for, society, but it does not merge itself
therein, — rather is it the uniform and indispensable moral
basis and presupposition thereof; it is a morbid state of
society that does not rest on the family, but rather throws it
into the back-ground, and more or less assumes its place.
Only the moral integrity and the deep-reaching moral nature
of the fainily give to society moral vitality; without these
elements society declines to selfish, enjoyment-seeking char
acterlessness.
Society cannot, from its very nature, require as large a per-
326 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ U9.
sonal giving up of individual peculiarities as does the family ;
it rests essentially on a greater independence of its individual
members to each other, — gives greater scope to the equal
right of the individuals to independent peculiarities, than is
the case with unreservedly-confiding love or reverence ; it is
made up therefore strictly only of the truly independent, and
hence of- the spiritually and morally mature ; minors should
belong predominantly only to the family, and should not as
yet enter society ; premature ripeness for society damagingly
affects not only the taste for family-life but also the moral
character of the person ; and the most common reason for the
characterlessness of the fashionable world, is the too early sup
planting of the family-life by society-life. In society the in
dividuals stand less in a strictly personal relation to each
other, — stand not in the relation of a special, personal love,
personally complementing each other, but rather as the single
members of a more extensive generality. Here each one sees
and loves, in the other, not so much the special personality as
rather simply a single representative of society as a whole. In
order to the exercise of social virtue, not so much depends on
the personal choice of the individual — on the fact that I have
to do with precisely this or that, to me, congenial personality
— as on the fact that the person be simply a member of
human, of moral, society in general. Hence the members of
society make also less demands upon each other for mutual
devotion and confidentiality than the members of a family ;
in the place of such perfect, mutual self-devotion as the prop
erty of others, come tender deference, politeness, friendliness
and complacency. Politeness, which has nothing in common
with hollow-hearted pretense, is not shown to the person as
such but simply as a member of society, and should not be
confounded with a manifestation of friendship, as this re
gards only the person. Forms of politeness are an expression
of love, of friendliness, of humble deference, to another ;
they arc manifestations of honor to whom honor is due, and
it is due to every upright man [Horn xii, 10; xiii, 7; 1 Pet. ii,
17; v, 5; and, for examples, see Gen. xviii, 2 sqq.; xxiii, 7,
12; xxxii, 4, 18; xxxiii, 3, 6, 7, 13, 14; xliii, 26, 28; xliv,
18 sqq. ; Rom. xv, 14, 15 ; etc.].
The boundary lines between the family and society are very
§ 149.] PURE ETHICS. 327
delicate, but also very legitimate ; and he who, from a miscon
ception of this difference, oversteps these limits and demeans
himself in society as in the family, that is, does not show that
proper reserve which seeks not to press itself upon others, —
in a word, he who shows himself over-confidential, is regarded,
and rightly so, as indelicate, characterless, or impudent; and
when the person so acting is a female, she is looked upon as
unwomanly or shameless. French gallantry, for which, hap
pily, we have no German word, is a treating of the female
members of society as if they were family-members ; it treats
every maiden as if she were an affianced sweetheart ; it mani
fests the appearance of love where neither its reality nor the
design of realizing it exists ; this is an immoral disintegration
and invasion of the family by society, a breaking down of the
limits between them. With the growth of gallantry the dis
solution of the family usually increases also ; and the gallant
society-man usually is or turns out to be a very ungenial hus
band. That devotion, that full, mutual, spiritual self-commu
nicating, and that confidentiality, which, within the family as
well as within the bounds of friendship, are not only a right
but also a duty, become sinful when shown to society at large.
Hence the personal love that manifests itself in the family is
less in compass, but greater intensity in, than that love of
neighbor which extends to all members of society without ex
ception, as well as also without choice, and which manifests
itself in the equally generally due spirit oi friendliness [Matt.
v, 47; Gal. v, 22; 1 Cor. xiii, 4; Eph. iv, 2, 32; Col. iii,
12; 2 Tim. ii, 24; Prov. xii, 25; Ruth ii, 8 sqq.]. He who
loves and treats the members of his family merely with the
friendliness of neighbor-love sins quite as much as he who
promiscuously treats any or every one he meets with as a per
sonal friend or as a consort ; and this holds good not simply
and merely of society as sin-disordered, though of course the
difference is here much greater than in a state of innocence.
Christian neighbor-love is indeed designated as brother-love,
and the members of the moral community are to regard each
other as' brethren, even as also Christ calls his disciples his
brethren [John xx, 17; Heb. ii, 11] or his friends [John xv,
13, 14], but this must not be so taken as to do away witli the
difference between family-love and neighbor-love ; but, on the
328 CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
contrary, it rather simply implies that the latter is a form of
love that is to be shaped after the pattern of brotherly love
proper. Society is to be progressively more closely allied to
the family, — is to be more and more affectionately and inti
mately united together on the basis and after the pattern of
the family ; and the closer bonds of the family are not thereby
relaxed but in fact confirmed. The Son of man who embraced
entire humanity in his love, loved yet his disciples with a
closer love, than he felt for others ; and even among the disci
ples there was one ''whom the Lord loved " by pre-eminence
— who lay upon Jesus' bosom ; and also Lazarus was a special
friend of the Lord [John xi, 3, 33 sqq.], although Christ's love
to these persons was still always something essentially other
than human friendship — the Friend never predominating over
the divine Master.— Of the distinctions that naturally form
themselves in every society, and hence of the classes of call
ings, we cannot as yet here treat, as their sharper separation
springs of and presupposes a sinful perversion of humanity.
As, on the part of the moral person, love in society is more
of a general and, so to speak, impersonal character, so also is
this love met from without by the objective reality of the
moral, not so much as personal love in a personal form, as
rather under a general and impersonal form — as a merely spir
itual power, as custom. Custom is indeed upheld by the in
dividual members of society, but it does not proceed from
them as particular single persons, but rather from the collec
tive public spirit of the whole. Custom is a fruit of the moral
life, not of the individual, but of the collective public ; it is
the virtue of society as peculiarly-constituted ; and, as such,
it has a right to be respected by the individual ; and the duty
of the individual to conform to custom cannot be limited by
mere caprice, but only by the higher moral law itself and by
the legitimate peculiar duty of the individual subject. It is
not requisite, in order to entitle social custom to the right of
being respected, that in each particular case a definite moral
or .other rational ground be readily adducible for its continu
ance ; this is in many cases even impossible ; and though, of
course, the custom, if legitimate, must ever have its sufficient
reason, yet this reason is not always a universally-moral one.
A respectful deference for that which has become historical
§ 149.] PUKE ETHICS. 329
in society is a high moral duty, provided simply that society
itself is not already morally perverted. The ebullient juve
nile vigor of the intensely self-conscious youth gladly recalci
trates against the historical reality of society, — is loth to
recognize for itself any other limits than such as are imposed
by the general and, as yet, not historically-determined moral
law. The moral law, however, is not of a merely universal
character, but shapes itself in society into a particular histor
ical form ; moral society has the same right to the forming and
retaining of a peculiar character as has the individual person ;
and as the individual is entitled to be respected and spared in
his moral peculiarity, so is entitled also, and with still greater
right, the moral collective whole [Gen. xxix, 26]. It is a sign
of moral crudity when individuals disregard social custom in
cases where it is not positively evil, and oppose themselves to
it for the simple reason that they do not regard it as abso
lutely necessary, — as, for example, in the style of clothing
and in the forms of social intercourse. It is true, each indi
vidual is entitled to his own moral judgment as to a custom,
and an immoral or irrational custom may by no means be
spared or conformed to ; on the contrary, there arises here the
duty of reformatorily influencing society itself. But of such a
perverted state of things we are not as yet here treating. The
proper moral respecting of custom is good-mannered or becom
ing behavior [/coo/uof, 1 Tim. ii, 9; iii, 2]. The female mind
embraces the moral more as an expression of custom ; the
male more as that of the law.
As all communion of love is a mutual imparting, so is it also
with social love ; the basis and at the same time the moral
limit of this imparting or communicating, is the family. The
family throws itself open occasionally for society, — imparts
itself to society, welcomes its members hospitably into itself.
Hospitableness or hospitality [Gen. xviii; xix; xxiv, 31 sqq. ;
Exod. ii, 20 ; Lev. xix, 33, 34 ; Judges xix, 20, 21 ; Job xxxi,
32; Matt, xxv, 35; x, 41, 42; Luke xi, 6; Acts xxviii, 7 sqq.;
1 Pet. iv, 9 ; Rom. xii, 13 ; 1 Tim. iii, 2 ; v, 10 ; Titus i, 8 ;
Heb. xiii, 2J is properly a virtue practiced not by the indi
vidual, but predominantly by the family. It is the occasional
letting in of society into the family, the outward manifesting
of the love that prevails in the family toward those who stand
330 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§ 150.
to us simply in the relation of members in society. It is only
the family that can exercise true hospitableness — that can
constitute a hospitable house ; this manifests itself, even in our
present so radically perverted state of society, in the fact that
it is always the housewife who takes the lead of the guest-
circle, and gives it the family-consecration. Hospitality is
one of the first and most natural manifestations of neighbor-
love, hence it is highly esteemed even among many uncultured
nations ; it exists always in its highest form where also the
family is preserved in high moral integrity, as, for example,
among the ancient Germanic races. It is a very special and
important characteristic of hospitality, that it is not exercised
merely toward friends proper, who in fact already belong to
the outer circle of the family, but also, and historically even
primarily, to strangers who are as yet not known personally
at all, that is, to man simply in his quality of neighbor.
SECTION CL.
The recognition of the moral character of a per
son on the part of moral society, is his social honor •
each and every one has, normally, a moral right to
such recognition by every other morally honorable
person, and should strive to obtain and retain it.
The actual manifestation of personal honor, as a
moral possession, is personal dignify. No honor is
morally valid save in so far as it is, at the same time,
honor before God. The moral society into which
the individual is incorporated by virtue, on the one
hand, of custom, by which he as well as the collect
ive society is influenced, and in which he conse
quently recognizes the morality of society, and, on
the other hand, by virtue of the honor which he
enjoys in the eyes of society, and in which conse
quently his morality is recognized by the society, is
lor him his moral home.
§150.] PURE ETHICS. 331
Only he has honor who has acquired a moral character ; the
characterless is honorless. Horuor is the reflection of the per
sonal character in the consciousness of society, — is its recog
nition by the. same. Honor is the reverse phase of love ; only
the moral man can rightly love, and in loving he thirsts also
to be loved, and hence to be recognized in his moral person
ality by others; the immoral man as such is not loved, be
cause he is not in the possession of honor. Though honor is
based on moral character yet it is not identical therewith, — it
is character as having become objective in the moral con
sciousness of society. God's honor is not his holiness and his
divine essence themselves, but the recognition of the same on
the part of rational creatures; and as God vindicates and
seeks his own honor [Exod. xiv, 4 ; 1 Sam. ii, 30 ; Psa. xlvi,
10; Isa. xlii, 8; xlviii, 11; Ezek. xxviii, 22; comp. John v,
23 ; Rom. xi, 36 ; xvi, 27], so also the moral man seeks, and
rightly so, his honor, but only such as is at the same time
honor before God, namely, a recognition of his conduct and
spirit as those of a child of God, and hence an honor which
is at the same time the witness of a good conscience before
God [Psa. iii, 3 ; Ixxiii, 24 ; cxii, 9 ; John v, 44 ; xii, 26, 43 ;
Roni. ii, 6, 7, 10, 29; v, 2; 1 Cor. iv, 5; 2 Cor. x, 18],— the
pleasures of God in him who loves Him [2 Cor. v, 9 ; Col. i,
10]. In this sense honor before men and the children of God
is a high good [Psa. vii, 5 ; xlix, 11 ; Ixxxiv, 12; Prov. iii, 16,
35; viii, 18;. xi, 16; xxi, 21; xxii, 4; xxix, 23; Phil, ii, 29],
and to disesteem stick honor is either to think unworthily or
to be too high-minded.
Personal honor and social custom condition man's moral
home. Society and country are only in so far a home as they
are expressive of the spiritually-moral life of society. My
fatherland is not where I am outwardly prosperous, but where
I enjoy myself morally, — feel myself vitally at one with a
moral community. Mere nature forms a sort of home only
for the savage ; a true home is of a spiritual character, and
nature is such only as brought within the sphere of history, as
transformed by man. It is at home that man enjoys his exist
ence ; the far-off is tempting mostly only for him who is as yet
in process of development toward spiritual and character-
maturity ; the seeking of a new home is in normal circum-
332 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§151.
stances less an affair of the single individual than of whole
branches of a nation, namely, in cases of the founding of new
colonies ; but here in fact the moral home migrates along.
To be shut out from one's home is properly regarded as a
severe misfortune ; the declaration that he should be a fugi
tive wanderer in the earth was the bitterest element in the
curse upon Cain ; among ancient nations Banishment was
the severest of punishments.
(c) THE MORAL ORGANIZATION OF SOCIETY.
SECTION CLI.
As single persons unite themselves into a family
and develop in it a vitally organic life in common, so
in turn society unites itselfinto a higher-organized copy
of the family, into a society-family, into a homoge
neous moral organism, — organizes itself into a real
unitary life; social custom rises from being primarily
a purely spiritual, impersonal power, and becomes a
real personally-represented and actually self-execut
ing power, — that is, it becomes social right as ex
pressed in law, in which form morality becomes for
and over the individual an objective reality and
power, and is not a mere formula but is in fact-
embodied in and tested and executed by moral per
sonalities. There is no law without a personal repre
sentative and executor of the same.
If at first view society appears as a mere falling apart of the
family, as a loosening of the narrower bond of love and duties
as existing in the family itself, as a dissolution of the family-
generated collective spirit into mere independent individual
spirits, as a freer-making of the single individuals, — and if it
is nevertheless, at the same time, a necessary progress beyond
the mere family-life, — still there can be no resting at mere
society and social custom, but society must in turn in its fur-
§ 151.] PURE ETHICS. 333
ther development return back to the fundamental character of
the family, — must exalt itself to the ideal of the family and
of its moral organism, even as the plant, when unfolded out
of the seed into branches and leaves, in turn generates again
in the fruit the original seed. This return of society to the
family takes place not merely through the fact that society
itself becomes the occasion to constantly new unitings of
families, but essentially by the fact that it itself takes on the
character of a -family of a higher grade, — that custom itself
(which- rules in society only as a bodiless spirit) assumes full
objective reality, attains to flesh and blood and vital force, so
as to vindicate and execute itself against whatever individual
will may oppose it. Social custom depends for its realization
entirely on its favorable recognition on the part of individu
als; it falls away powerless where it meets with extended
resistance ; but when raised to the state of social right or
law, it can itself compel recognition in the face of such
resistance, — can force its opposers to submit themselves to
general rationality as incarnated in the law. Just as mere
custom is society-virtue as sentiment, so is law society-c&ar-
acter, with firm will-force for carrying itself out. Custom is,
as it were, the heart-rich idealistic bride-state of public
morality ; right as enunciated in law is its marriage-state with
the full earnestness of obligation; the former rests on the dis
cretion of the individual; the latter binds the individual
unconditionally and with the power of active compulsion.
That is surely a very bad legal condition of society where
right is accomplished only by coercion and fear; and the
normal condition of society is that where the law is inscribed
in, and a vital force of, every individual heart, and that, too,
as law and not as a mere and, as it were, simply beseeching
custom; and where it does not find free recognition, there it
should not bow its head and suffer in silence, but it has been
intrusted by God with the sword for the punishment of evil
doers, and for the praise of them that do well [1 Pet. ii, 14 ;
Rom. xiii, 1-4]. That would be a bad-ordered family where
the father, as against his disobedient children, merely be
wailed in inactivity, — where he should not virtualize his true
moral love by palpable chastisement; and organized society
has, as the higher-developed family, also the love-duty of
834 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§152.
coercion and penal chastisement. Morality cannot and ought
not to have a merely subjective form; it should attain also to
objective reality, — should become a power above the indi
vidual person, and that, too, not as merely conceived, but as
having full reality ; and this condition is realized only in the
fact that right or objective morality is not a mere thought, a
mere written code, but that it has its personal upholders and
executors; this is not merely human order, it is divine order.
— As the highest form of the moral community-life, positively-
organized society cannot do away with the earlier stages, the
family and society in the larger sense of the word, — but as it
is itself based upon them, it must necessarily contain them with
in itself, and foster and promote them. A state which, as
was the case with Plato's, swallows up the family is totally
illegitimate and in utter conflict with the moral idea. That
unlimited autocracy of the state which assumes to be the sole
and absolute source of right is a heathen notion, and, within
the Christian world, anti-moral.
SECTION CLII.
The difference, as necessarily existing in every
moral communion, of the morally-advanced and the
morally less-matured, and which finds its first ex
pression in the relation of parents and children, forms
also the basis of organized society. In this society
the duty of forming, of guiding and of educating falls
mainly to the former ; that of appropriating and
obeying, to the latter. The guiding rests entirely on
morally-religious culture, and aims by general form
ing to make of society a moral art-work, a moral
organism. The difference between the guiding or
ruling ones and the guided and obeying ones, is
therefore per se strictly identical with the difference
between the morally and religiously higher-developed
(the prophets and priests) and the as yet to-be-de
veloped, namely, the general public, the body of
§ 152.] PURE ETHICS. 335
society. In so far as the moral organism expresses
the antithesis of priest-prophets and people-con
gregation in the sphere of religion, it is the church;
in so far as it expresses the antithesis of the ruling
and the ruled in the sphere of law or right, it is the
state. In a normally constituted and absolutely sin-
free society church and state are perfectly identical,
and the moral organism appears as a theocracy • its
definite popular form would be a fully developed
patriarchal state. The religious and the legal com
monalty in their perfect unity are the morally de
veloped family ; and as its inner law and essence are
absolutely the moral law itself, which rules at the
same time as a vital power in the hearts of all its
members, hence the theocratically-organized relig
iously-moral society is the historical realization of the
kingdom of God on earth, and its perfecting is the
goal of all ra,tionally-moral effort, of the individual as
well as of society as a whole ; and the spiritual and
moral development of humanity toward this ultimate
end forms universal history.
We have nothing to do here with the actual church and the
actual state, which are both essentially conditioned on, and
constituted in view of combating, sin, but with the ideal moral
community-life which is free of all sin. The family continues
to be the moral basis and the pattern. The inner difference
between the guiding and the guided can, in a sinless state of
things, be only of a very mild and a merely relatively valid
character. In a perfect religious community all the mature
members are of priestly character, are invested with the duty of
spiritual guidance ; and in a perfect civil society all the mature
citizens participate in the spiritual and moral guidance of the
whole ; and the more perfect the collective development of all
the members, so much the more does the fundamental rela
tion of fathers and children retire into the back-ground, and
336 CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
assume rather the form of the gentler antithesis of the two
sexes in marriage.
As in the normal family, religious and moral life are united,
and the father is also the spiritual and priestly guide of the
religious life, hence in the ideal social organism, church and
state are simply one and the same thing ; they are but two
absolutely inseparable phases of the same spiritual life. All
religion becomes social reality, and all social life rests on
religion ; the normal state is also a church, and the true church
develops out of kself a corresponding social community-life,
— as was seen in the early Christian church, and as, in recent
times, the Unitas Fratrum, from a correct presentiment of the
goal of Christian history, lias partially carried out. That the
father of the people should also be the chief bishop, is implied
in the prototype of the moral commonalty ; but whether in
this particular the ideal is to be applied to the very unideal
present reality of the world, it is not here the place to decide.
The patriarchal state is the primitive manner of morally organ
izing society, — the one most nearly related to the family proto
type ; and the family-chief of the closely related tribe is
at once its chief leader and its priest ; he represents, however,
not his single personal will, but the moral will of the whole,
which is in turn itself a faithful expression of the divine will.
For this simple reason the ideal form of the social state is
necessarily and essentially a theocracy ; for it is only in a vital
communion with God that the rulers of the people have their
right, their law, their power; and it is not the mere divine
law that is the all-guiding factor, but the living personal God
himself, who enlightens and guides his trusting children, and
governs directly through his prophets and anointed ones.
The divine right of a true magistracy is based on this idea,
but is valid as a moral right only in so far as humble submis
sion to God rules in the hearts of the rulers. The theocracy
of the Old Testament [Exod. xix, 3-6 ; Deut. vii, 6 sqq. ;
xxxiii. 5; 1 Sam. viii, 6 sqq.; Isa. xxxiii, 22] is only a faint
shadow of that which was to have been realized in sinless
humanity, and of which as partially regained through re
demption only glimpses are caught in prophetic vision [Isa.
ii, 2; iv, 2 sqq.; ix, 6 sqq.; xi, 1 sqq.; xxxii, 15 sqq.; Ixv,
17 sqq.; Ezek. xxxiv, 23 sqq.; xxxvi, 24 sqq.; xxxvii, 24 sqq.].
§ 152.] PURE ETHICS. 337
The mysterious phenomenon of the priest-king of Salem,
Melchizedek [Gen, xiv, 18 sqq. ; Heb. vii, 1 sqq. ; Psa. ex, 4],
like a reminiscence of a long-forgotten better age floating
down into a totally different present,— perhaps the last scion
of those who had remained faithful to the Covenant of Noah
outside of the family of Abraham, — is in some respects the
expression of a true theocracy as it exists in a higher manner
only in Christ. With the Israelites royalty and priesthood
were in fact separate; Aaron and David represent the two
Bides of the one theocratical idea ; Samuel approximated this
idea, but was more a priest than a king. The theocratical
form of society was realized in Old Testament times only in
its first beginnings, in the family-state of the patriarchs. The
people of Israel was both outwardly and inwardly too little at
peace both with the world and with God to be able to sus
tain a theocratical form of government ; it is only in " Salem "
that the Prince of Peace can rule.
The moral commonalty in its double form as church and
state is, on the one hand, a complete preserving and virtualiz-
ing of the personal moral freedom of the individuals, in that
the collective will, as manifesting itself in laws and in the
government, is at the same time the will of the individual, and
on the other, a real objective presentation of the moral idea
with a determining power for and over the individual, but
which acts as a limit to the freedom of the individual only
when this freedom has fallen from its harmony with God into
irrational caprice. In the ideal state all morality becomes right
or law, and all law is a pure expression of morality. When
this moral commonalty has become a full reality, then it is-
the kingdom of God as having attained to historical form and
reality. The kingdom of God comes not, it is true, with out
ward show [Luke xvii, 20, 21], inasmuch as it exists primarily
in the hearts of men ; but when it has come into the hearts of
men — when God has assumed form within them — then will
also the kingdom of God itself take upon itself a form, and
"the collective history of the God-imbued portion of humanity
(the true church) is simply this gradually self-developing
form. As soon, however, as sin has entered into reality, then
church and state at once fall apart, and dissolve themselves
in turn into discordant and contradictory subdivisions, and
VOL. 11—23
338 CHRISTIAN ETHICS. [§152.
the kingdom of everlasting peace becomes a plurality of king
doms of endless strife. The moral or ideal destination of uni
versal history is, to be the uniformly undisturbed evolution of
the kingdom of God; to confound its criminal reality with
the unclouded ideal, is to deny ethical moral truth. But uni
versal history, in its pure and normal form, is the develop
ment of humanity as unitary (§ 88); of this humanity the
statement would hold good in the most perfect manner, that
" the whole earth was of one language and of one speech"
[Gen. xi, 1].
GENERAL INDEX TO VOLS. I AND II.
Aaron vs. David, ii, 337.
Abel, ii, 231, 280.
Abelard, i, 205.
Abortion, in Greece, i, 66, 85, 119;
as viewed by the Jesuits, 269.
Abraham, purpose of the call of,
i, 157 ; his marriage, ii, 321.
"Accommodation," i, 260.
Achilles, i, 41, 63.
Adiaphora, i, 253 ; ii, 123.
Adornment, ii, 242.
Adultery, Jesuitical teachings in
regard to, i, 266 sqq. ; ii, 309.
.^Enesidemus, i, 145.
Agrippa of Nettesheim, i, 281.
Ahura-Mazda, i, 60.
" Akosmism," i, 289.
Albertus Magnus, i, 208.
Alcuin, i, 200.
Allihn, i, 357.
Alsted, i, 248.
Ambrose, i, 191.
Amesius" i, 247.
Amiability, i, 106.
Ammon, i, 338, 360.
Amyraud, i, 247.
Andreas, i, 248.
Androgynism, ii, 305.
Anger, i, 105, 108.
Angra-mainyus, i, 59.
Animals, ii, 202, 264, 267, 270.
Anti-hero-worship, of the Jews, i,
163.
Antisthenes, i, 72.
Apocrypha, ethics of the, i, 1 69.
Apollo, i, 63.
Apologia, the, ii, 44, 62.
Appropriation vs. formation and
sparing, ii, 180 ; 186 ; sexual,
189; spiritual, 190; 214; 237;
natural, 266.
Architecture, sacred, ii, 207.
Arnauld, i, 274.
Arndt, John, i, 249.
Arrian, i, 133.
Aristippus, i, 73.
Aristotle, i, 41, 89; relation to
Plato, 92 ; works of, 92 sqq. ; in
fluence on the Middle Ages, 93 ;
on the God-idea, 94 ; on virtue,
96; on the highest good, 97;
on depravity, 102; on the vir
tues, 103 sqq. ; on the contem
plative life, 109; on the com
munity-life, 110; on friendship,
111; on democracy, 114; on
marriage, 1M) ; on education,
120; on war, 121; vs. the Chris
tian spirit, 124.
Art, ii, 205, 209; 271.
Art-works, ii, 184; 205 sqq.
Asceticism, Brahminic, i, 51 ;
Buddhistic, 54 ; early Christian,
183; ii, 268.
Astesauus, i, 222.
Atheism, i, 52 ; of the Epicureans,
129; of La Mettrie, 320; 352
sqq.
Augustine, ii, 192 ; on grace and on
the will, 193; on the principle
of virtue, 194; on the four car
dinal and the three theological
virtues, 195 ; on the divine
counsels,- 196.
Autonomy, ii, 7, 9, 18.
Avesta, the, i, 59.
Awe, ii, 173.
Azorio, i, 256.
Baader, i, 342, 375.
Babylonians, the, i, 54.
Bacon, i, 303.
Balduin, i, 251.
Banishment, ii, 332.
Barnabas, i, 181.
Basnage, i, 248.
Basedow, i, 322.
Basil, i, 190.
340
INDEX.
Bauer, G-. L., i, 152; Bruno and
Edgar, 354.
Bauny, i, 257, 263.
Baumgarten, Alex., i, '298; Jacob,
325.
Baumgarten-Crusius, i, 361.
Baxter, i, 248.
Beautiful, the, i, 63 ; ii, 9.
Beauty vs. morality, i, 65 ; vs. the
ethical, 80; ii, 242.
Becoming, the, ii, 210.
Bede, i, 199.
Beneke, i, 357.
Bernard, St., i, 206, 224.
Bertling, i, 325.
Besombes, i, 376.
Besser, i, 257.
Bliss, ii, 283.
Blood-relationship vs. marriage, ii,
320 sqq.
Bohme, i, 342.
Boethius, i, 197.
Bolingbroke, i, 312.
Bona, i, 275.
Bonaventura, i, 224.
Brahma, i, 41, 42, 45; ii. 184.
Brahminism, i, 48 sqq.
Braudis, i, 107, 123.
Braniss, i, VII.
Breithaupt, i, 255.
Brothers vs. sisters, ii. 318.
Bruno, i, 281.
Buddseus, i, 324.
Buddhism, i, 41, 48, 52 sqq.
Buchner, i, 354.
Busenbaum, i, 257.
Butchering, moral influence of, ii,
268.
Cain, ii, 231, 285, 332.
Calixt, i, 250.
Calvin, i, 242 ; o» the virtues,
% 243; ii, 301.
Cana, the marriage at, ii, 188.
Canz, i, 298, 325.
Caste, i, 49, 83, 120.
Castration, i, 269 ; ii, 265.
Casuistry, i, 199, 221, 250, 255.
" Categorical imperative," the, i,
330; ii, 33, 52, 83.
"Celestial kingdom," the, i, 45.
Celibacy, i, 188. 189, 254.
Chalybaus, i, 357.
hase, the, and war, i, 121.
hastity i, 181.
Childhood, ii, 69, 263.
hild-innocence, ii, 152.
!hildren vs. parents, ii, 313.
Chinese, ethics, i, 43 ; virtue, 46 ;
marriage, 47.
hrist, the nature of his moral pre
cepts, ii, 87 ; his comeliness, 243.
Christian ethics, i, 173, 328 ; ii, 1 ;
threefold form of, 2.
hristianity, scientific impulse
given by, i, 179.
Chrysostom, i, 190.
Church vs. state, ii, 335.
Chytrseus, i, 242.
Cicero, i, 132, 149; on collision
of duties, 150; 280.
Clarke, i, 306.
Clavasio, i, 222.
Cleanliness, ii, 242 sqq.
Clemens Alexandrinus, i, 186.
Clothing, ii, 245 sqq.
Collins, i, 310.
Collision of duties, 5, 150; ii, 136,
292.
Commands vs. prohibitions, ii, 124.
Communism of Plato, i, 84 ; of the
Stoics, 141.
Community-life, the, 5, 82, 110,
220; ii, 76, 302.
Compassion, Buddhistic, i, 53;
286.
Concini, i, 376.
Concilia vs. prcecepta, ii, 113.
Concubines, i, 65; ii, 307.
Condillac, i, 314.
Confession, ii, 223.
Confidence vs. distrust, ii, 261.
Confucius, i. 44.
Consanguinity, ii, 155.
Conscience, i, 339 ; ii, 99 sqq.
Considerateuess, ii, 282.
Consorts vs. blood-relatives, ii, 313.
Constance, the Council of, i, 260.
Contemplative life, the, favored by
Aristotle, i, 115; by St. Vic
tor, 224.
Continence, i, 108.
Contract-marriage, ii, 307.
Corporeality, ii, 60.
INDEX.
341
Courage, i, 103; ii, 291, 292, 296.
Counsels, the, i, 196, 215, 242.
Culture vs. savagery, ii, 288.
Creation, to be completed by the
creature, ii, 274.
Crell, i, 281.
Criiger, i, 325.
Crusius, i, 299, 326.
Cudwortli, i, 306.
Cumberland, i, 305.
Culmann, i, 375.
Custom, ii, 325 ; vs. law, 333.
Customariness, i, 21, 348.
Cynics, i, 72.
Cynics vs. Cyrenaics, i, 73.
Cyprian, i, 189.
Cyrenaics, i, 73.
Damascenus, John, i, 198.
Damiani, i, 200.
Danasus, i, 247 ; ii, 57.
Dance, the, ii, 247.
Dannhauer, i, 251.
Darwinism,- ii, 154.
Daub, i, 344, 351.
Death, Epicurean view of, i, 138 ;
ii, 67.
Dedekenn, i, 352.
Decalogue, the, ii. 28.
Deism, i, 302, 312.
Depravity, i, 38, 42 ; Plato's ex
plication of, 78, 79; Aristotle's
remedy for, 114; 123.
Descarl.es, i, 282, 288.
Determinism, i, 282, 293.
Devotedness, ii, 298.
De Wette, his works, i, 37 ; 360.
Diana, i, 264, 270.
Diderot, i, 319.
Dignity, ii, 330.
Diligence, ii, 294.
Diodorus, quoted, i, 57.
Diogenes, i, 74 ; ii, 279.
Dionysius the Areopagite, 5, 198.
Discretionary, the sphere of the,
i, 155 ; ii, 122.
Distrust, -ii, 261.
Divorce, i, 85 ; vs. barrenness, ii,
308. '
Dogmatics, vs. ethics, i, 22 sqq. ;
the presupposition of ethics,
180; ii, 31.
Domestic animals, ii, 264.
Dualism, i, 60, 62, 63, 87; Stoic,
133; Schellingian,' 341 sqq.
Diirr, i, 250.
Duns Scotus, i, 217; ii, 85.
Dunte, i, 251.
Duties, the, i, 296; all duties are
duties to God, ii, 148.
Duty, i, 345; ii, 336 sqq.; vs.
right, 139.
Eberhard, i, 298.
Ebionites aud Gnostics, i, 185.
Ecclesiastes, the Book of, i, 168.
Eckart, i, 225 ; ii, 20. '
Eden, ii, 51, 275.
Education, Platonic, i, 84; Aris
totelian, 119 sqq. ; ii, 198 sqq.
Egyptian ethics, i, 55 sqq.
Egyptians, the, i, 54; ii, 191.
Elvenich, i, 357.
Empirical ethics, i, 28.
End, the, sanctifies the means, i,
260; ii, 179.
Endemann, i, 326.
Endurance, Buddhistic, i, 53.
Enthusiasm, ii, 173; vs. the ideal,
174; 206.
Epictetus, i, 132.
Epicurean view, of the highest
good, i, 129; of pleasure, 130,
of right and wrong, of religion,
of death, of the universe, 129-
131 ; ii, 55.
Epicureanism, principle of, i, 128
sqq. ; realistic, 142 ; vs. Chris
tianity, 1*3.
Epicurus, i, 128.
Equanimity, i, 105.
Erasmus, i, 279, 281.
Erigena, i, 201, 223.
"Eros,"i, 79.
Escobar, i, 257.
Ethics, defined, i, 13; Harless'and
Schleierrnacher's definition, 15;
Platonic, 79 sqq. ; Aristotelian,
93 sqq. ; Epicurean, 129; Stoic,
141 ; Old Testament, 151 ; Chris
tian, 173; heathen, 177; vs.
dogmatics, 180 ; Patristic, 181 ;
mediaeval, 199; Protestant, 235;
I Reformed vs. Lutheran, 244
342
INDEX.
sqq. ; Roman Catholic, 255, 375;
Spinozistic, m 281; Leibnitzian,
290; Wolfian, 292; Lockean,
303; materialistico-French, 314
sqq. ; Kantian, 327 ; Fichtean,
338; Schellingian, 342; He
gelian, 345 sqq. ; Schleiermache-
rian, 361 ; Rothean, 371 ; classi
fication of, ii, 23-34.
"Eudaemonia," i, 97, 109.
Eudemonism, i, 328; ii, 176.
Eve, ii, 103, 249.
Evil, i, 13, 42; Plato'3 view of,
78; origin of, 156.
Example, ii, 86, 260.
Fables, ii, 267.
Fairness, i, 107.
Faith, i, 153, 212; ii, 10; vs.
knowledge, 12; 215; as a vir
tue, 298.
Fall, the, in Persia, i, 60; true
nature of, ii, 166.
Falsehood, i, 85; ii, 192 sqq.
Family, the, in China, i, 46 ; in
India, 51; in Greece, 85, 110
sqq. ; in Israel, 1 65.
Family-honor, ii, 323.
Fatalism, i, 115.
Fear of God, ii, 89.
Feder, i, 301.
Feeling, ii, 13, 49, 98, 159, 249;
its perfection, ii, 283.
Fenelon, i, 276.
Ferguson, i, 312.
Feuerbach, i, 351.
Fenerleiri, i, 37. •
Fidelity, ii, 293.
Fichte, i, 338 ; his moral canon,
339 ; J. H., 358.
Fischer, i, 358.
Filliucci, i, 257.
Flatt, i, 360.
Formation, ii, 180, 198 sqq.
Frederick the Great, i, 320.
Freedom, i, 38 ; true, ii, 280.
"Free love," i, 85.
Friendship, i, 111 sqq. ; Christian,
ii, 318; vs. friendliness.
Fulbert, i, 200.
Future life, i, 41 ; Egyptian view
of, 57 ; Aristotle's view of,
95 ; why not prominent in the
Mosaic law, 161 sqq.
Gallantry, ii, 319, 327.
Garve, i, 301.
Gassendi, i, 314.
Gellert, i, 300.
Genettus, i. 272.
Gerhard, i/252.
" German Theology," i, 229.
Gerson, i, 228.
Gifts, i, 125; ii, 259.
Giving, ii, 258.
Goal, the Chinese, i, 44 ; the Brah-
minic, 49 ; the Buddhistic, 53 ;
the Persian, 60; the Platonic,
91; the Aristotelian, 96; the
Mosaic, 154 ; the Christian,
174; 220; ii, 7, 24, 30, 149, 274.
God, the basis and measure of
the moral, ii, 9 ; his free immu
tability, 85; 145; 232.
God-consciousness, the, ii, 80.
God-fearing, ii, 172; vs. tjrod-trust-
ing, 173.
God-likeness, i, 77; ii, 164.
God- worship, ii, 276.
Gonzales, i, 262.
Good, the, i, 13, 40; among the
Chinese, 42 ; among the Greeks,
43; among the Indians,' 47;
according to Plato, 77; accord
ing to Aristotle, 96 ; according
to Peter Lombard, 206; ii, 5,
sqq. ; vs. the moral, 10; three
phases of, 91.
Gossip, ii, 261.
Grace-saying, ii, 188.
Graffiis, i, 272.
Grecian, the, his unseriousness, i,
67 ; his presumption, 68 ; hia
virtues, 293.
Gregory, of Nyssa, of Nazianzum,
i, 190; the Great, 198.
Guion, Madame, i, 276.
Gutzkow, i, 362.
Gymnastics, ii, 241.
Habit, i, 99; ii, 290.
Hales, i, 208.
Hanssen, i, 325.
Happiness, ii, 175.
INDEX.
343
Harless, i, XII, 22, 374; ii, 28.
Hartenstein, i, 357.
Hatred, ii, 161 sqq.
Heart, ii, 101. '
Heathen ethics, ground-character
-of, i, 38, 177; ii, 175.
Heathenism, i, 39, 64, 86, 155.
Hebrew ethics, i, 156.
Hegel, his view of ethics, i, 20 ;
345 ; on State and Church, 349.
Heidegger, i, 248.
Helvetius, i, 314.
Hemming, i, 242.
Hengstenberg, i, VI.
Henriquez, i, 256.
Hellene, the, i, 64 sqq.
Help-meet, the idea of, ii, 309.
Herbart, i, 356.
Hermaphrodite, ii. 75.
Heroic virtue, i, 108.
Heydenreich, i, 336.
Highest good, the, i, 97, 159, 161,
176, 209, 365; ii, 6, 43; 276.
Hildebert,- i, 204.
Hirsoher, i, 376; ii, 117.
Hobbes, i, 304.
Holbach, i, 321.
Holiness, ii, 285, 286.
Home, significance of, ii, 331.
Honor, ii, 183, 253.
Hope, i, 212; as a virtue, ii, 299.
Hospitality, ii, 196.
Human flesh, the eating of, i, 270.
Humanism, i, '279.
Humanity, i, 38, 121.
Hume, i, 311.
" Humanitarianism," i, 66, 121 ;
ii, 255.
Humility, i, 175 ; as a virtue, ii,
298.
Hunger, ii, 187.
Huss, i, 231.
Hutcheson, i, 310.
Ideal, the, vs. the real, ii, 82.
Illuminism. i, 302, 322, 327, 337;
ii, 20.
Image, the, of God, ii, 37, 42.
Immortality, ii, 51.
Incarnation, conditional or un
conditional, ii. 86. '
Incomprehensibility of God, ii, 44.
Innocence vs. holiness, ii, 285.
Intercession, ii, 224.
Irenasus, i, 185.
Isenbiehl, i, 376.
Isidore, i, 190, 198.
Islamism, i, 171.
Israel, the world-historical sig
nificance of, i, 157 sqq.
Jacob, i, 159; L. H., 336.
Jacobi, i, 342, 344.
Jansenism, i, 273.
Jealousy, ii, 196.
Jerome, i, 192.
Jesuits, i, 256 sqq. ; their Pelagian-
ism, 260; their moral laxity,
264; on equivocation, 266; on
adultery, 268; ii, 178.
Jocham, i, 376.
John, of Salisbury, i, 220 sqq. ; of
Goch, 231.
Jovinian, i, 192.
Judaism, i, 171, 282.
Judas, i, 343.
Judith, the Book of, i, 171.
Justin, i, 186.
Just mean, the, i, 45 ; of Aristotle,
100.
Justness, i, 81, 106; ii, 294.
Kahler. i, 361.
Kant, i, 324, 327; his ethical
works, 329; his canon of mo
rality, 330 ; criticised, 333 ; hia
second canon, 334; ii, 22, 39,
44, 52, 83; on prayer, 222.
Keckermajjjn, i, 247.
Kiesewetter, i, 336.
Kingdom of God, the, i, 156; ii,
276.
Kiss, the, significance of, ii, 356.
Klein, i, 344.
Knowledge vs. faith, ii, 12.
Konig, i, 251.
Kostlin, ii, 266.
Krause, i, 344.
Labor, fi, 203, 271.
Lactantius, i, 191.
La Mettrie, i, 320. f
Lampe, i, 248.
Lauge, S. G., i, 338.
INDEX.
Latin theology vs. Grecian, i, 193.
Law, ii, 90.
Laymarm, i, 257.
Leibnitz, i, 278, 290; his theodicy,
291.
Less, i, 257, 326.
Liberality, i, 104.
Libtrum arbitrium, ii, 45.
Life-stages, ii, 67.
Ligorio, i, 375.
Lipsius, i, 281.
Lobkowitz, i, 271.
Locke, i, 303.
Lombard, Peter, i, 206.
Love, Platonic, i, 99 ; Christian, ii,
213; vs. hatred, 161 sqq. ; vs.
fear, 172; vs. happiness-seek
ing, 176; a duty, 178; 201,257.
Luther, i, 235 ; ii, 109.
Lutheran ethics, i, 244.
Magic, ii, 157.
Magnanimity, i, 105; portrayed
by Aristotle, 1 24 sqq.
Majority, i, 168 ; civil vs. moral, ii,
70.
Malder, i, 272.
Mandula, i, 271.
Manichees, ii, 268.
Manliness, i, 81.
Manu, the Laws of, i, 48.
Marcus Aurelins, i, 133.
Mariana, i, 269.
Marriage, moral presuppositions
of, ii, 304 sqq.
Masculinity, ii, 75.
Marheineke, i, 37, 146, 352.
Marriage, Brahminic, i, 5l ; Gre
cian, 66; Platonic, 85; Aris
totelian, 118; Stoic, 140; Isra-
elitic, 165; early Christian, 181;
"irresistible aversion" in, ii,
169; Christian. 310 sqq. ; re
quires diverse qualities iii con
sorts. 321.
Martensen, i, 358.
Martin, i, 376.
Materialism, ii, 61.
Maxim vs. law, ii, 133.
Maximus, i, 198.
Mehmel, i, 341.
Meier, i, 250, 299.
Meiner, i, 37.
Melanchthon, i, 236; his works,
237 ; on will-freedom, 239.
Melchizedek, ii, 336.
Mengering, i, 251.
Mexicans, the, i, 43.
Michelet, i, 351.
Middle- way, the, i, 100.
Minority, ii, 68.
Miracles, i, 158.
Moderation, ii, 189.
Moral element, the, of an action,
ii, 178.
Morality, Chinese, i, 50 ; Buddhis
tic, 52 sqq. ; Persian. 62; Gre
cian, 63; Socratic, 70; Platonic,
79; Israelitic, 154; Christian,
174; Patristic, 181; Hegelian,
347; ii, 8 ; vs. religion, 15 ; cen
trifugal. 17.
Moller, i, 344.
Mohammed, i, 172.
Moleschott, i, 354.
Molinos, i, 275; ii, 20.
Monasticism, beginnings of, i, 183;
200.
Monkery, ii, 280.
More, i,"306. '
Morus, i, 326.
Motive, general nature of, ii, 159;
179.
Moses, i, 164.
Mosheim, i, 15, 326.
Miiller, i, 351.
Mummies, significance of, 5, 57.
" Must " and " should," antagonist
ic, i, 14; ii, 90; 167.
Mysticism, i, 198, 224, 231, 273,
275, 341 ; ii, 18, 20.
Name-giving, ii, 39.
Name-interchanging, ii, 260.
Narcissus, ii, 321.
Natalis, i, 272.
Nationalities, ii, 73.
Naturalism, i, 144; Greek, 122;
Epicurean, 129; 288.
Nature, its destination, ii, 156 ; du
ties toward, 264; symbolism in,
266; abuse of, 272.
Navarra, i, 265.
Neander, i, 37.
INDEX.
345
Nebuchadnezzar, i, 58.
Neighbor-love, ii, 254.
Neo-Platonism, i, 144, 147; Pan
theistic, 148; mystical, 149.
Nicole, i, 274.
Nimrod, i, 58.
"Nirvana," i, 40.
Nitzsch, i, 24 ; P., ii, 58.
Nobility, ii, 324.
Normality, moral, ii, 286.
Nudity, in art, ii, 244.
Obedience, ii, 288.
Objective morality, i. 86.
Official morality, ii, 78.
Old age, ii, 68."
Olearms, i, 251.
Ontology, Chinese, i, 44; Brah-
minic. 48 ; Buddhistic, 52 ;
Egyptian, 55 ; Semitic, 57 ; Per
sian, 59; Grecian, 63; Platonic,
78; Aristotelian, 94; Epicu
rean, 131, 142; Stoic, 133, 142;
Hebrew, 153; Neo-Platonic,
201; Spinozistic, 282; Leibnitz-
ian, 290; Kantian, 329; Fich-
tean, 338; Schellingian, 342;
Hegelian, 345 sqq.
Opera supererogatoria, i, 234.
Origen,-i, 187.
Ornamentation, ii, 244.
Osiander, i, 251.
Osiris, i, 56.
Palmer, i, 29, 374.
Pain, ii, 60.
Pantheism, Indian, i, 47 ; Neo-Pla
tonic, 147; mediasval, 198; of
Erigena, 201; of Eckart, 225;
of Spinoza, 282 ; of Fichte, 337 :
of Sclielling, 341 ; of Hegel, 346;
of Strauss, 352 ; ii, 47 ; moral
tendency of, 81 sqq. ; vs. prayer,
222.
Paradise, i, 45 ; true significance
of, ii, 197; 212.
Parents vs. children, ii, 313.
" Parrhassia," ii, 297.
Pascal, i, 274.
Patuzzi, i, 376.
Peace, ii, 163.
Pederasty, i, 141.
Pelagianism, i, 260, 279.
Pennaforti, i, 222.
Peraldus, i, 219. *
Perazzo, i, 272.
Perfection, moral, i, 278.
Perkins, i, 248.
Pericles, i, 65.
•Personal honor, ii, 330.
Peru, ii, 121.
Petition, ii, 224.
Pharisaism, i, 136. 232.
Philosophical ethics, i. 16, 27 ; vs.
theological, 28; 355.
Physiognomies, ii, 243.
Piccolomini, i, 256.
Piety, i, 81; ii, 15; vs. morality,
147; 170.
Pietism, i, 252, 337.
Piety-virtues, the, ii, 297.
Plant-sparing, ii, 184.
Plato, i, 75; his works, 76; on
the virtues, 81 ; on the state,
82 ; on caste, 83 ; on property,
84; on divorce, 85 ; on religion,
91 ; on reading Homer, 92.
Play, ii, 128.
Pleasure, i, 109; Epicurean, 130.
Plotinus, i, 147.
Plutarch, i, 151.
Polanus, i, 247.
Politeness, impersonal, ii, 326.
Polygamy, ii, 306.
Pomponatius, i, 281.
Pontas, i, 272.
Porphyry, i, 147.
Prayer, i, 177; ii, 147, 218; Kant
on, 222.
Predestinarianism, i, 242, 273.
Presentiment, ii, 226.
Prierias, i, 222.
Priest vs. layman, ii, 334.
Proclus, i. 147.
Probabilism, i, 255, 261.
Property, Plato on, 84; ii, 279, 280.
Prophecy, ii, 226.
Proverbs, the Book ofj i, 167.
Prudence, ii, 282.
Pyramids, the, significance of, i, 57.
Pyrrho, i, 145.
Quesnel, i, 274.
Quietism, i, 273, 275 ; ii, 18, 303.
346
1 INDEX.
Race, the human, its unity, ii, 153.
Radicalism, i, 346.
Rationalistic ethics, i, 37, 322,
324; ii, 22.
Rationality, ii. 6 ; vs. morality, 9 ;
41.
Raymond of Toulouse, i, 230.
Reynauld, i, 257.
Reason, i, 329; the practical, 331.
Recluse-life, the, ii, 303.
Redemption, progressively reveal
ed, i, 166,'
Reformation, the, i, 232, 233.
Reinhard, i, 360.
Religion vs. morality, ii, 15; cen
tripetal, 17.
Repentance, i, 286.
'.' Republic," the, of Plato, i, 82 ;
criticised, 290; ii, 276, 334.
"Rescuer" of the-Persians, i, 61.
Reservatio mentalis, i, 255, 266, 271.
Resurrection, the, ii, 66.
Reusch, i, 325.
Reuss, i, 326.
Reverence for elders, ii, 316.
Right, three stages of, 291 ; 345,
347; vs. duty, ii, 139; vs. law,
332.
Rixner, i, 250.
Rodriguez, i, 257.
Roman philosophy, i, 149.
Rothe. i, XII, 9 ; on the scope of
ethics, 18; 25, 30; on heter
odoxy, 31; criticised, 32 sqq. ;
359 ; on church and state, 372 ;
ii, 10, 21, 24; on conscience,
104; 110, 129, 168, 264; on the
virtues, 301.
Rousseau, i, 37, 280; his ethical
views, 317; 222.
Rudeness, ii, 184.
Ruisbroch, i, 228.
Sa. i, 265.
Sabbath, the, idea of, i, 155; ii,
212 sqq.
Sacrifice, ii, 218 sqq.
Sailer, i, 376.
St. Victor, i, 224.
Sakya-Muni, i, 52.
Salat, i, 245.
Sales, Francis de, i, 275.
Sanchez, i, 251.
Sarah, ii, 321.
Sanctification, ii, 285, 287.
Savages vs. history, ii, 191.
Scavini, i, 376.
Sartorius, i, 24, 374,
Satanology, i, 344.
Savonarola, i, 231.
Schleiermacher, i, XII, 317 ; on
Spinoza, 290; 361 sqq. ; ii, 24
sqq., 39, 63, 110, 129.
Scholling, i, 280; his ontology and
ethics. ,341-344; ii, 47.
Schenkel, i, 337 ; ii, 107.
Schenkl, i, 376.
Scblegel, i, 362.
Schliephake, i, 358.
Schmid, i, 336 ; J. W., 338 ; C. R,
374.
Schmidt, i, 338.
Scholasticism, i, 200, 203.
Schopenhauer, i, 358.
Schubert, i. 325.
Schwarz, i, 360 ; ii, 24, 141.
Schweitzer, ii, 58.
Self-culture, ii, 248.
Self-love, false vs. the true, i,
175; vs. God-love, ii, 165.
Self-mortification, i, 50, 274.
Secret-keeping, ii, 193.
Seneca, i, 132 ; on suicide, 139.
Senility, ii, 71.
Senses, the, ii, 63.
Service-rendering, ii, 261.
Servile-mindedness, ii, 185.
Sex, ii, 74 ; in nature, 304.
Sextus Empiricns, i, 145.
Sexual relations. Jesuitical teach
ings as to, i, 266.
Shaftesbury, i, 308.
Shame, i, 106; ii, 239.
Sin, its historical origin, i, 156;
Christian view of, 176, 215.
Sismond, i, 264.
Sirach, the Book of, i, 169; ii, 46.
Skepticism, i, 144 sqq. ; ii, 13.
Slavery, Grecian, i, 66 ; Aristotle's
apology for, 117 ; ii, 152.
Sleep, i, 14.
Smith, i, 311.
Snell, i, 336.
Soeinianism, i, 281.
INDEX.
347
Socrates, i, 65, 69, 70, 72 ; vs. his
wife, 72 ; advances made by,
127.
Solidarity, ii, 324.
Solon, i, 66.
Sparing, ii, 180 ; its objects, 183 ;.
232, 252.
Speculation, theological, i, 30.
Spener, i, 252.
Spinoza, i, 31, 278; his Ethica,
281 ; vs. Calvin, ii, 47.
Stackhouse, i, 326.
Stalil, i, 358 ; ii, 130.
Stapf, i, 376.
Staudlin, i, 36, 338.
Stapfer, i, 324.
Stattler, i, 376.
Steinbart, i, 323.
Stiruer, i, 354.
Strauss, i. 352.
Strigel, i,' 242.
State, the Chinese, i, 47 ; the Pla
tonic, 82 ; the Hegelian, 345,
349.
Stoicism, i, 131 ; vs. Epicureanism,
132, 145; errors of, 141; vs.
Christianity, 143, 182.
Stoic view, of virtue, i, 131 ; of the
life-goal, and of the norm of
truth, 133 ; of the good, 134 ;
of religion, 136; of compassion,
137 ; of death, 138 ; of suicide,
139; of marriage, 140.
Suarez, i, 257.
Subjectivism, i, 144.
Suicide, i, 139.
Summon casuum, i, 222.
Supererogatory works, i, 234 ; ii,
1 1 4 sqq.
Supralapsarianism, ii, 46.
Symbolical forming, ii, 209.
Symbolism, ii. 206.
Table-luxuries, ii, 189.
Table-pleasures, ii, 241.
Talmud, the, i, 171.
Tamburini, i, 257.
Taste, ii, 195.
Tauler, i, 226 ; on three kinds of
works, 227 ; ii, 20.
Temperaments', the, ii, 71 ; four
of them, 73, 292.
Temperateness, i, 81, 104 ; ii, 291,
295.
Tertullian, i, 187 ; on marriage,
188.
Thankfulness, ii, 262, 294.
Thanksgiving, ii, 223.
Theological ethics, i, 21, 27 ; vs.
philosophical, 35 ; as a distinct
science, 247; 250, 359, 371;
ii, 1.
Theocracy, the, in Israel, i, 166;
ii, 335.
Theosophy, i, 30, 341, 375.
Thomas a Kempis, i, 229.
Thomas Aquinas, i, 208 ; on the
will. 209 ; on virtue, 211 ; on
the virtues, 212.
Thomasius, i, 298.
Tieflrunk, i, 336.
Titans, the, i, 64.
Tittmann, i, 326.
Tollner, i, 326.
Tolet, i, 256. .
Tournley, i, 376.
Trendelenburg, ii, 107.
Trust, ii, 173.
Tweston, i, 364.
Typhon, i, 56.
Tyranny, of man over woman, ii,
311.
Tyrant-murder, Jesuitical code of,
i, 269.
Unitas Fratrum, ii, 336.
Unity of mankind, ii, 152.
Utilitarianism, ii, 203.
Vatke, i. 351.
Vasquez, i, 256.
Vedas, the, i, 48.
Venial sins, i, 188, 265.
Vergier, i, 275.
Virginity, ii, 190.
Virtue, Brahminic, i, 49 ; Chinese.
50; Platonic, 77, 81: essence
of, 207; 339, 366; ii, 177, 274;
New Testament, idea of, 290.
Virtues, the cardinal, i, 195; 207,
239, 243 ; four chief, 290 ; the
Platonic, ii, 292 ; different clas
sifications of, 300.
Vogel, i, 338.
348
INDEX.
Vogt, i, 354.
Volition, ii, 250.
Yoltaire, i, 28 ; superficiality of
his ethics, 319.
Von Eitzen, i. 248.
Von Henning, i, 251.
Waibel, i, 376.
Walaeus, i, 247.
\Valdenses, the, i, 231.
Weber, Dr. A., i, VIII.
Wedlock-love, ii, 121.
Werner, i, 376.
Wickliffe, i, 231.
Will, the, the sphere of the moral,
ii, 10.
Will-freedom, i, 14 ; in Aristotle,
96; threefold, 206; 209, 224,
239, 335 ; ii, 13, 45, 84.
Wirth, i, 357.
Wisdom, i, 81. 107 ; practical, ii,
133 ; true, 286.
Wisdom, the Book of, i, 170.
" Wise men," the, i, 69.
Wolf, i, 278, 292 sqq.
Wollaston, i, 308.
Womanliness, ii, 75.
'.' Woman's rights," Plato's view
of, i, 86 ; the author's view of,
ii, 310 sqq.
Worship, i, 369; ii, 215.
Writing, the art of, ii, 191.
Wuttke, sketch of his life and
works, i, VII ; his confessional
position, VIII ; his life-task, IX ;
his relation to Hengstenberg,
X ; character of his ethics, XII ;
scope of the same, 35.
Youth, prone to revolution, ii,
329.
Zeno, i, 131 sqq.
Zockler, ii, 266.
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