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ENCYCLOPEDIA OF SACKED THEOLOGY

ENCYCLOPEDIA

SACRED THEOLOG-Y

ITS PRINCIPLES

ABRAHAM KUYPER, D.D.

FREE UNIVERSITY, AMSTERDAM

TRANSLATED FROM THE DUTCH

BY REV. J. HENDRIK DE VRTES, M.A.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
PROFESSOR BEXJAMIX B. WARFIELD, D.D.. LL.T).

n °

OF PRINCETON THF.OLOGICAT, SEMINARY

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

1898

Noriuooli

J. S. Cushing i: Co. — Berwick i Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.

THE translation of this Theological Encyclopedia was
undertaken by appointment of the author, with whose co
operation also the proof-sheets have been read. In the
original, this work consists of three volumes, the contents of
which are stated in Dr. Warfield's "Introductory Note."
The volume here presented contains the first fifty-three
pages of Vol. I. of the original, and Vol. II. entire. The
full definition of " Principium Theologiae " being given on
page 341, the word ' orincipium " as a technical term has
been retained in its Latin form throughout. Grateful thanks
are due to Professor B. B. Warfield, D.D., LL.D., for valu
able assistance given. And it may also be stated here, that
profound regard for the author, and firm faith in the
standards of Calvinism which he so masterfully defends in
the Netherlands, are the motives that have inspired to the
end this effort of the

TRANSLATOR.

PRINCETON, N.J., June 20, 1898.

PREFACE

THE original work, a part of which only is here given in
English, consists of three volumes. These together form a
systematic whole. The first volume contains an introduc
tion to Theological Encyclopedia, included in pages 1-55 of
this translation. This is followed by a history of Theologi
cal Encyclopedia of about five hundred pages. No such
history had ever been written before. Brief, summary re
views are given in some encyclopedias, but no history of
this department as such can be found. And yet the need of
it is imperative for the sake of a broad study of the position
which Theological Encyclopedia at present occupies in the
domain of science. Moreover, the writer was impelled to
undertake this task because the general history of Theology
has for the most part been interpreted in a sense which does
not agree with what he deems should be understood by
Theology. In writing so extensive a history of Theologi
cal Encyclopedia he had a twofold purpose in view : on
the one hand of conveying a fuller knowledge of Encyclo
pedia of Theology than had thus far been furnished, and
on the other hand of giving a review of the entire history
of Theology from his view-point. Upon this introductory
volume follows Volume II., which is here given entire in
the English translation. And then follows the third vol
ume, almost equally large, in which the separate theological
departments find their logical division and interpretation
according to the author's principles. In this third volume
the principles previously developed are brought to their
logical sequence, showing that only in the full acceptance
of the proper principle can a pure and correct development
be discovered for all these departments of Theology.

viii PREFACE

The author docs not hesitate to say frankly that in the
writing of this work lie occupies the Calvinistic view-point,
though this is not to be taken in an exclusively dogmatical
sense. There are primordial principles which are funda
mental to Calvinism, and these only he defends. He is no
Calvinist by birth. Having received his training in a con-
scrvative-supernaturalistic spirit, he broke with faith in
every form Avhen a student at Leyden, and then cast himself
into the arms of the barest radicalism. At a later period,
perceiving the poverty of this radicalism, and shivering with
the chilling atmosphere which it created in his heart, he
felt attracted first to the Determinism of Professor Scholten,
and then to the warmth of the Vermittelungs-theologie, as
presented by Martensen and his followers. But if this
warmed his heart, it provided no rest for his thought. In
this Vermittelungs-theologie there is no stability of starting-
point, no unity of principle, and no harmonious life-interpre
tation on which a world-view, based on coherent principles,
can be erected. In this state of mind and of heart he came
in contact with those descendants of the ancient Calvinists,
who in the Netherlands still honor the traditions of the
fathers ; and it astonished him to find among these simple
people a stability of thought, a unity of comprehensive in
sight, in fact a world- view based on principles which needed
but a scientific treatment and interpretation to give them a
place of equal significance over against the dominant views
of the age. To put forth an effort in this direction has
from that moment on been his determined purpose, and
toward this end he has devoted a series of studies in The
ology, in Politics, and in ./Esthetics, part of which have
already been published, and part of which are embodied in
the acts of the Second Chamber of the States-General. To
all this, however, there was still wanting that unity which
alone can give a concentric exposition of the nature of theol
ogy, and to supply this want he set himself the task of writ
ing this extensive Theological Encyclopedia. Thus only
was he able to reach the heart of the question.

That the treatment of the principium of Theology, i.e. of

PKEFACE ix

the Holy Scripture, is given so much space could not be
avoided. In all this controversy the Holy Scripture is the
question at stake, and the encyclopedia that places itself un
conditionally upon the Scriptures as its basis cannot find a
plan until the all-embracing question of the Scriptures has
been fundamentally solved.

It is only natural that certain portions of this book should
bear a severely Dutch stamp. Being an enemy to abstrac
tions, and a lover of the concreteness of representation, the
author could not do anything else than write from the envi
ronment in which he lives. In one point only does this
require an explanation. In this book he speaks of Methodism
in a way which would have been impossible either in England
or in America, where Methodism has achieved a Church for
mation of its own. For this reason he begs leave to state that
he views Methodism as a necessary reaction, born from Cal
vinism itself, against the influences which so often threaten
to petrify the life of the Church. As such, Methodism had
in his opinion a high calling which it is bound to obey, and
a real spiritual significance. And it becomes subject to seri
ous criticism only when, and in so far as, from being a reac
tion, it undertakes to be itself an action ; and when, not
satisfied with imparting a new impulse to the sleeping
Church, it seeks to exalt itself in the Church's stead. This,
he thinks, it is not able to do, and hence falls into serious
excesses.

In closing this brief preface he begs to offer his sincere
thanks to the Rev. J. Hendrik de Vries, who with rare
accuracy of style and language has finished the difficult and
laborious task of this translation.

ABRAHAM KUYPER.

AMSTERDAM, June 1, 1898.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

IT gives me the greatest pleasure to respond to the request
of my friend, the Rev. J. Hendrik de Vries, — to whom a
debt of gratitude is due from us all for putting into English
a section of this valuable treatise, — that I should in a few
words introduce its author to his American audience. It is
not often that an opportunity falls to one to make known a
thinker of Dr. Kuyper's quality to a new circle of readers ;
and I count it a high honor to have been given this privi
lege. For many years now Dr. Kuyper has exercised a very
remarkable influence in his own country. As leader and
organizer of the Anti-revolutionary party, and chief editor
of its organ, De Standaard, a newspaper which, we are told
by good authority, occupies not only " a place of honor, but
the place of honor among Dutch dailies " ; 1 as founder, de
fender, and developer of the Free University of Amsterdam,
through which the people of the Netherlands are receiving
an object lesson of the possibility and quality of higher edu
cation conducted on Christian and Reformed foundations, free
from interference from the State ; as consistent advocate in
the Church of freedom of conscience, confessional rights, and
the principles of that Reformed religion to which the Dutch
people owe all that has made them great, and strenuous pro
moter of the great end of bringing all who love those princi
ples together into one powerful communion, free to confess
and live the religion of their hearts ; as a religious teacher
whose instructions in his weekly journal, De Heraut, are the

1 Jhr. Mr. A. F. de Savornin Lohman in De Nedcrlander of April 1, IR'.i?
(as extracted in the Gedenkbock, published in commemoration of the com
pletion of the first twenty-five years of service by Dr. Kuyper as chief-editor
of De Standaard, Amsterdam, 1897, p. 89).

xil INTRODUCTORY NOTE

food of hundreds of hungry souls, whose prelections in the
Free University are building up a race of theologians imbued
with the historical no less than the systematic spirit, and to
whose writings men of all parties look for light and inspira
tion ; in fine, as a force in Church and State in whose arm
those who share his fundamental principles trust with a
well-founded hope of victory. Dr. Kuyper is probably to-day
the most considerable figure in both political and ecclesiasti
cal Holland. As long as thirteen years ago Dr. Johannes
Gloel, looking in upon the Church life of Holland from
without, thought it not too much to say that Dr. Kuyper's
was the best known name in the land : 1 and though in the
interval friends have been lost, yet doubtless also friends
have been made, and assuredly the sharp conflicts which
have marked these years have not lessened the conspicuous-
ness of the central figure in them all. It is certainly high
time that we should make the acquaintance of such a man in
America. The present volume will, naturally, reveal him to
us on one side only of his multiform activity. It is a fragment
of his scientific theological work which it gives us ; indeed,
to speak literally, it is only a fragment of one of his theo
logical works, though possibly thus far his most considerable
contribution to theological science. But the reader will not
fail to perceive, even in this fragment, evidence of those
qualities which have made its author the leader of men
which he is, — the depth of his insight, the breadth of his
outlook, the thoroughness of his method, the comprehensive
ness of his survey, the intensity of his conviction, the elo
quence of his language, the directness of his style, the pith
and wealth of his illustrations, the force, completeness, win-
ningness of his presentation.

For anything like a complete estimate of Dr. Kuyper's
powers and performance there would be needed a tolerably
thorough acquaintance with the whole political and religious
life of Holland during the last third of the nineteenth cen
tury. It would even be something of a task to undertake a
study of his mind and work in his literary product, which

1 Hollands kirchlichrs Leben, Wiirtemberg, 1885.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE xiii

has grown to a very considerable voluminousness, and touches
upon nearly the whole circle of civil and ecclesiastical inter
ests of the present-day Netherlands. All that exists is a
rather superficial and not very correct sketch of his life and
opinions from the pen of Jhr. Mr. Witsius H. cle Savornin
Lohman.1 It was written, unhappily, nearly ten years ago,
and Dr. Kuyper has not ceased to live and move in the
meanwhile ; and its greater part is devoted, naturally, to
an account of Dr. Kuyper's political program as leader
of the Anti-revolutionary party. It may be supplemented,
however, from the theological side from the sympathetic
and very informing account to be found in Dr. Hermann
Bavinck's paper on Recent Dogmatic Thought in the Nether
lands, which appeared a few years ago in the pages of The
Presbyterian and Reformed Review? With this there may
profitably be compared, by those who like to hear both
sides of a question, the series of papers on The Netherland
ish Reformed Church of the Present by Professor H. G.
Klein of Utrecht, which are buried in the columns of a
Reformed journal which used to be published in Austria,3
while Dr. Kuyper himself has lifted the veil from many
of his earlier experiences in a delightful booklet which
he appropriately calls Confidences.* With these references
I may exonerate myself from attempting more here than to
suggest the outlines of his work on the theological side.

Dr. Kuyper was born in 1837, and received his scholastic
training at Leyden, as a student of literature and theology.
He obtained his theological doctorate in 1863, with a treatise
on the idea of the Church in Calvin and a Lasco. During
his university career, when he sat at the feet of Scholten (at

1 It was published as one of the issues of the series entitled Mannen van
Beteekenis in Onze Dagen, edited by Dr. E. J. Pijzel, and published at
Haarlem by H. D. Tjeenk Willink. It is a pamphlet of 72 pages, and
appeared in 1889.

2 Issue of April, 1892, Vol. III. pp. 209 sq.

3 Evanyelisch Reformirte Blaetter aus Oesterreich (Kuttelberg, Oesterr.
Schlesien, 1891 ; Vol. I. pp. 9 seq.}.

4 Confidence: Schrijven aan den weled. Heer J. H. van der Linden, door
Dr. A. Kuyper (Amsterdam : Hoveker en Zoon, 1873). Additional sources
of information are given by both Dr. Bavinck and Dr. Klein.

XIV INTRODUCTORY NOTE

that time in his more conservative period) and Kuenen, he
had little clearness of religious insight and felt little drawing
to theological study, and gave himself, therefore, rather to the
cultivation of literature under the guidance of Professor de
Vries. At its close a great change came over him, mediated
partly by some striking experiences of providential guidance
in connection with the preparation of a prize-paper which
he had undertaken, partly by the continued and absorbing
study of Calvin and a Lasco to which the preparation of that
paper led him, and partly by the powerful impression made
upon him by Miss Yonge's romance, The Heir of Redcliffe,
read in this state of mind. The good work thus begun was
completed under the influence of the example and conversa
tion of the pious Reformed people of his first pastoral charge,
at the little village of Beesd, where he ministered the Word
from 1863 to 1867. Thus prepared for his work, lie entered
upon it at once con amore, when he was called in the latter
year to the Church at Utrecht. From that moment, at
Utrecht and Amsterdam, in the pulpit and professor's
chair, in the Chamber of Deputies, and the editorial page
of his journals, he has unceasingly waged battle for the
freedom of the Church of God to found itself on the Word
alone, and to live and teach in accordance with its own free
confession.

In his new enthusiasm of faith he went to Utrecht in the
highest hope, looking upon that city, in which dwelt and
taught the Coryphaeuses of the orthodoxy of the day, as " a
Zion of God," and expecting to find in them leaders whom
he would need but to follow to the reestablishment of the
Church and of the religious life of the land on the one firm
foundation of the Word of God. He soon discovered that
there were limits, in reliance upon the Reformed principles,
and even in trust in God's Word, beyond which the Apolo-
getical School of Utrecht was not prepared to go. " I had
thought to find them,"' lie says,1 " learned brethren, for whom
the Holy Scriptures, just as they lie, were the authority of
their lives, — who with the Word for a weapon were defend-
1 Gedenkboek, etc., as above, p. 68.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE XV

ing the stronghold of the Netherlandish Jerusalem with un
daunted valor ; men who did not merely stand on the wall
and ward off assaults, but rushed forth from the gates and
drove off the foe. But what did I find ? Everywhere a cry
of distressed hearts. Everybody shut up in the hold, with
no thought of anything beyond a weak defence, watching for
the shots to fall, and only when they came giving some poor
reply, while bulwark after bulwark of the faith was yielded
to the enemy." Such an attitude was intolerable to one of
Dr. Kuyper's ardent and aggressive spirit. Nor did he find
more comfort in the Ethical School, although he was by no
means insensible to the attractions of its " Mediating The-

ology."1 The weakness and wastefulness of both apology
and mediation as a means of establishing and advancing
Christianity he felt, moreover, most profoundly; and, plant
ing himself once for all squarely on the infallible Word and
the Reformed Confessions, he consecrated all his great and
varied powers to purifying the camp and compacting the
forces of positive truth. The effect of the assumption of
this bold, aggressive position was, naturally, to offend and
alienate the adherents of the more " moderate " schools.
The followers of Van Oosterzee and Doedes, of de la Saus-
saye and Gunning, — men who, 'according to their lights,
had wrought each a good work in the defence and propaga
tion of the principles of the Gospel, — were necessarily left
behind, where they did not even throw themselves into the
camp of the enemy. But the result has vindicated not only
its righteousness, but its wisdom. Not merely as over
against the forces of more or less open unbelief, but also of
those timid souls who would fain pitch their tents in neutral
territory, Dr. Kuyper has raised the banner of unadulterated

1 In the Preface to the first volume of his Encyclopaedic Dr. Kuyper says :
"Brought up under the teaching of Scholten and Kuenen, in an entirely
different circle of theological ideas, and later not less strongly influenced by
the ' Mediating Theology,' the author found rest neither for his heart nor
for his mind until his eyes were opened to the depth, the earnestness, and
the beauty of the Reformed Confession, which has come to us out of those
spiritually rich days when Calvinism was still a world-power, not only in the
theological, but also in the social and political, realm."

xvi INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Christianity, and the people of God have flocked to its lead
ing. He cannot, indeed, be credited with the creation of
the Reformed party in the Church, any more than of the
Anti-revolutionary party in the State. As the year 1840,
when Groen van Prinsterer was elected to the Lower Cham
ber of the States General, may be accounted the formal birth
day of the latter, so the year 1842, when the Address of
Groen and his six companions was laid before the Synod of
the Netherlandish Reformed Church, praying for the main
tenance of the rights of the Reformed Confession against
the Groningen teaching, may be thought of as the formal
birthday of the former. But as it is he who has organized
and compacted the Anti-revolutionary party and led it to its
present position of power, so it is he to whom is due above
all others the present strength of the Reformed tendency in
the religious life and thought of Holland, and to whom are
turned in hope to-day the eyes of all who truly love the
Word of God and the principles of the Reformed religion. —
that "sterling silver," "fine gold," "pure nard," of Chris
tianity, as he himself phrases it.

In the prosecution of his self-chosen task of recovering
for the Word of God and the principles of the Reformed
religion their rightful place in the civil and religious life of
the Netherlands, Dr. Kuyper has made the most vigorous
and versatile use of every means of reaching the minds and
hearts of the people. He edits the daily political paper,
De Standaard, which he has made a veritable power in the
land. lie edits the weekly religious paper, De Ileraut, and
discusses in its columns in the most thorough way all live
topics of theology and religion. He is serving the State as
a member of the Lower Chamber of the States General. He
is serving the Church as Professor of Dogmatics in the theo
logical faculty of the Free L'niversity at Amsterdam. It is a
matter of course that he has made the freest use also of occa
sional discussion and scientific presentation. Political pam
phlets, devotional treatises, studies on ecclesiastical topics
and theological themes, from his pen, have poured from the
press in an almost unbroken stream. It is a somewhat

INTRODUCTORY NOTE xvii

remarkable literary product for a busy man to have pro
duced when looked at from the point of view of mere
quantity; when its quality is considered, whether from the
point of view of richness of style, fulness of details, wide-
ness of view, or force of presentation, it is simply a marvel.
There have been published in our day few discussions of
civil and social questions more wide-minded and thoughtful,
few devotional writings more penetrating and uplifting, few
theological treatises more profound and stimulating. Among
the more valuable of his theological writings should certainly
be enumerated the numerous addresses which have been
given permanence in print, especially the Rectoral addresses
delivered at the Free University at Amsterdam, several of
which attain the dimension of short treatises, and are fur
nished with an apparatus of notes, while retaining the grace
of Dr. Kuyper's spoken style. Such, for example, are those
on Present Day Biblical Criticism, delivered in 1881, Cal
vinism and Art, delivered in 1888, and the tendency of Pan-
theizing thought towards the Obliteration of the Boundary
Lines, and the confounding of things that differ, delivered
in 1892. Among his more considerable works in scientific
theology there fall to be mentioned especially, his edition
of the Opuscala Theologica of Francis Junius, published in
1882, his copious commentary, in four volumes, on the Hei
delberg Catechism, which bears the title of E Voto Dor-
draceno, published 1892-95, his somewhat popular treatise
on The Work of the Holy Spirit, in three volumes, pub
lished in 1888-89, and, doubtless we may say above all, his
Encyclopaedie der Heilige Grodgeleerdheid in three volumes,
published in 1894, of which the present volume presents a
part in English.

This important work differs from other encyclopedias of
theology in several particulars. It is marked by the strict
ness of its scientific conception of its sphere and the skill
with which its proper province is discriminated and occu
pied. It is marked not less by the comprehensiveness of its
grasp upon its material, and the thoroughness with which it
is worked out in its details. It is especially marked by the

xviii INTKODUCTOKY NOTE

attractiveness of the style in wliicli it is written, which is
never dull, and often rises into real eloquence. It is marked
above all, however, by the frankness with which it is based
on the principles of the Reformed theology, — with which
it takes its starting-point " from what Calvin called the
semen religionis, or the sensus divinitatis in ipsis medidlis et
visceribus hominis infixus," so as to grant at once that it must
seem as foolishness to him who chooses a different point of
departure ; and with which also it builds up its structure on
the assumption of the truth of the Reformed presuppositions,
and allows at once that it separates itself by so much from
the point of view of all other systems. With so substantial
a portion of the work before the reader, however, as this
volume supplies, it cannot be necessary to speak here of its
method or quality. It is only needful that the reader should
remember that he has before him, here, only a portion of the
whole work. In its completeness it fills three volumes of
about the size of this one. The first of these is introductory,
and treats of the name, idea, and conception of Encyclope
dia, and then, more specifically, of the idea, divisions, and
(most copiously) the history of Theological Encyclopedia.
The second volume — the one here translated — is the gen
eral part, and discusses, as will be seen from its table of
contents, all those questions which concern the place of
theology among the sciences, and the nature of theology as
a science with a " principium " of its own. This volume
is notable for the extended and thorough discussion it ac
cords to the "Principium Theologiae," -involving, to be
sure, some slight breach of proportion in the disposition of
the material and possibly some trenching upon the domain of
Dogmatics, for which the author duly makes his apologies:
but bringing so great a gain to the reader that he will
find himself especially grateful for just this section. The
third volume contains the treatment of the several divisions
of theology, which is carried through in a wonderfully fresh
and original fashion. It is to be hoped that the reception
accorded the present volume will be such as to encourage the
translator and publishers to go on and complete the work in

INTRODUCTORY NOTE xix

its English form, and thus that this volume will prove to
be, in the literal sense of the word, but the introduction of
Dr. Kuyper to English readers. I cannot but feel assured
from my own experience that he wrho reads one treatise
of Dr. Kuyper's cannot fail to have his appetite whetted for
more.

BENJAMIN B. WARFIELD.

PRINCETON, June 16, 18<J8.

CONTENTS

FIRST DIVISION
THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPEDIA

CHAPTER I
THE NAME ENCYCLOPEDIA

PAOB

§ 1. Significance of the Name 1

§ 2. Use in the Greek Classics 2

§ 3. Transition among the Fathers 4

§ 4. Usage in the Period of the Reformation .... 6

§ 5. Usage of the Word after the Seventeenth Century . . 9

§ 6. Usage of the Word in our Century 11

§ 7. Conclusion 12

CHAPTER II

THE IDEA OF ENCYCLOPEDIA

§ 8. The First Appearance of this Idea 15

§ 9. Development of the Organic Idea . . . . . .17

§ 10. Victory of the Organic Idea 19

§ 11. The Break in the Process 20

§ 12. Provisional Result 22

CHAPTER III

THE CONCEPTION OF ENCYCLOPEDIA

§ 13. Forming of the Conception 24

§ 1-1. Critical Demand 25

§ 15. Encyclopedic Necessity ........ 27

§ 10. Scientific Character 28

§ 17. Limitation of the Conception ...... 31

§ 18. Subdivision of Philosophy 32

§ 19. Methodology and Hodegetics 33

xxii CONTENTS

I-AI.;-:

§ '20. •• \Yissenschaftslehre "........ :>(>

§ 21. Organic Character ......... :J7

§ 22. Still Incomplete :j!)

§ 2:). A Threefold Tusk 41

§ 24. Method of Encyclopedia 42

§ 25. Purely Formal 42

§ 20. Result 4:>

CIIA1TEK IV
THK CONCEPTION OK THKOLOUICAI, ENCYCLOPEDIA

Two Difficulties ......

28.
29.
in

The First Difficulty
The Second Difficulty .....
No Onesidedness ......

. 4'i
47
4!)

52.
5:5.
54

View-point here taken .....
Compass of its Task
Its Relation to Methodology .
It*; Aim . .

5(1
. 52
5:5
54

tt.

Result

SECOND I) 1 1 7-V / O N

THE ORGANISM UF SCIENCE
§ 36. Introduction ..........

CHAPTER I

THK CoNCKPTION OF SCIENCE

§ 37. Etymology and Accepted Use of the Word ....

§ 3b. Subject and Object .........

§ 3D. Organic Relation between Subject and Object, . . . iJ7

i; 40. Language S4

ij 41. Fallacious Theories ........ 8!)

§ 12. The Spiritual Sciences ....... 02

CHAPTER II

SCIKNCE IMPAHI! l> I'.V SlN

§ 43. Science and the Fact of Sin . . . . . . . lot!

$ 44. Truth . .114

CONTENTS xxiii

PAGK

§ 45. Wisdom 119

§ 46. Faith 125

§ 47. Religion 146

CHAPTER III

THE TWOFOLD DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE

§ 48. Two Kinds of People 150

§ 49. Two Kinds of Science 155

§ 50. The Process of Science 17U

§ 51. Both Sciences Universal 181

CHAPTER IV
DIVISION OF SCIENCE

§ 52. Organic Division of Scientific Study 183

§ 53. The Five Faculties 192

CHAPTER V

THEOLOGY IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE

Is there a Place for Theology in the Organism of Science? . 211
The Influence of Palingenesis upon our View of Theology

and its Relation to the Other Sciences . . . .219

THIRD DIVISION
THEOLOGY

CHAPTER I
THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY

§ 56. The Name 228

§ 57. The Theological Modality of the Conception of Theology . 235

§ 58. The Idea of Theology 241

§ 59. The Dependent Character of Theology 248

§ 60. Ectypal Theology the Fruit of Revelation .... 257

§ 61. The Conception of Theology as a Science .... 292

CONTEXTS

PAGE

§ 62. Degenerations of Theology as " Knowledge of God " . . 300

§ G3. Falsifications of the Conception of Theology . . . 306

§ 64. Deformations of Theology 319

§ 05. The Relation of Theology to its Object 327

§ 66. Sancta Theologia (Sacred Theology) 333

CHAPTER II

THE FUNDAMENTAL, REGULATIVE, AND DISTINCTIVE PRINCIPLE
OF THEOLOGY, OR PRINCIPIUM THEOLOGIAE

§ 67. What is here to be understood by Principium . . . 341
§ 68. Different Representations of the Workings of this Prin
cipium .......... 348

§ 69. The Relation between this Principium and our Consciousness 355
§ 70. Relation between this Principium and the Natural Prin
cipium .......... 368

§ 71. Is the Natural Principium able to summon the Special Prin
cipium before its Tribunal ?...... 380

§ 72. Universality of this Principium ...... 389

§ 73. This Principium and the Holy Scripture .... 397

§ 74. The Special Principium and the Written Word . . . 405

§ 75. Inspiration : its Relation to the Principium Essendi . . 413

§ 76. Inspiration in Connection with Miracles .... 420

§ 77. Inspiration according to the Self-testimony of the Scripture 428

§ 78. The Testimony of the Apostles 441

§ 79. Significance of this Result for the Old Testament . . 453

§ 80. Inspiration of the Xew Testament 460

§ 81. Unity and Multiplicity 473

§ 82. The Instruments of Inspiration ...... 481

§ 83. The Factors of Inspiration ....... 504

§ 84. The Forms of Inspiration ....... 520

§ 85. Graphical Inspiration ........ 544

§ 86. Te-.tinionium SpiritusSaucti, or the Witness of the Holy Spirit 553

CHAPTER III
THE METHOD OF THEOLOGY

§ 87. What is demanded by the Nature of this Principium . . 564

§ 88. The Principium of Theology in Action 571

§ 89. Relation to the Spiritual Reality 578

§ 90. Spiritus Sanctus Doctor 583

§ 91. The Church and the Office 587

§ 92. The Liberty of Scientific Theology 593

CONTENTS XXV

CHAPTER IV
THE ORGANISM OF THEOLOGY

PAGE

§ 93. Part of an Organism 600

§ 94. In the Organism of Science Theology is an Independent

Organ 603

§ 95. The Boundary of Theology in the Organism of Science . 605

§ 96. Self-determination of the Organism of Theology . .615

§ 97. Organic Articulation of Propaedeutics 617

§ 98. Organic Articulation to the Spiritual Reality . . . 624

§ 99. The Organism of Theology in its Parts . . . .627

CHAPTER V
THE HISTORY OF THEOLOGY

§ 100. Introduction 637

§ 101. The Period of Naivety 639

§ 102. The Internal Conflict 646

§ 103. Triumph claimed Prematurely 652

§ 104. The Development of Multiformity 658

§ 105. The Apparent Defeat 668

§ 106. The Period of Resurrection 672

INDEX 681

DIVISION I
THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPEDIA

CHAPTER I

THE NAME ENCYCLOPEDIA

§ 1. Significance of the Name

Since the encyclopedic, scientific and theological view
point of this Theological Encyclopedia differs in more than
one respect from the ideas that are most widely accepted in
our times, even among " believing " theologians, clearness
demands that we indicate this difference and give an account
of it. The conception of '•'•Theological Encyclopedia" itself
should therefore be investigated first, and this investigation
should be preceded by the definition of the general concep
tion of Encyclopedia.

This definition starts out with the etymological explana
tion of the word which is used as the name of this depart
ment of science. Not as evidence from etymology ; this is
excluded by our plan : but because the indication of the
first activity in the human mind which has given rise to the
origin of any department is frequently found in the his
torical choice of the name. This is not always so. To
our Western consciousness Algebra is a meaningless term,
however capable it may be of an etymological explanation
in its original. Metaphysics originated by mere accident.
Anemology is an artificially fabricated term. But as a rule
there is a history in a name, which it will not do to pass
by. And this is the case in a special sense with the name

2 § 2. USE IN THE GREEK CLASSICS [Div. I

Encyclopedia. To exclude arbitrariness, and to keep our
selves from ideal subjectivity, the conservative path must
again be discovered, at least to this extent — that no defi
nition of any conception should be admitted, which does
not take account of what went on in the human spirit (even
though with no very clear consciousness) when the germ
of this conception first originated. (See Dr. Georg Runze,
Die Bedeutung der Sprache f'dr das wissenscliaftliche Er-
kennen, Halle, 188G.)

§ '2. Use in the Greek Classics

As for most scientific conceptions, the germ of the con
ception of " Encyclopedia " also is found among the Greeks.
They were the people who, in contrast with the intuitive
powers of the Eastern nations on the one hand, and in dis
tinction from the limited form of the life of the spirit in
Rome on the other hand, were divinely endowed with the
disposition, tendency and talent of extricating its thinking
consciousness from the world of phenomena and of soaring
above it on free wings. And yet, as far as wre know, the
word Encyclopedia in its combination was unknown to them.
The first trace of this combination is discovered in Galen,
the physician and philosopher, who died about two hundred
years after the birth of Christ.1 The Greeks left the two
parts of the word standing side by side, and spoke of '

The sense of TraiSeia in this combination needs no further
explanation. HaiSeta means instruction, training, educa
tion ; that by which a Trat? becomes an avr/p. The difficulty
lies in the definition which makes this TraiSeia, ey/cv/cXtos.
In its simplest sense, eyfcvrcXios is all that which presents
itself to you as being included in a KVK\O<;, i.e. a ring or
circle. But this idea admits of all sorts of shades, accord-

1 In his ITepi 5miT7Js 6!;{<av, i.e. dc rictus rations in morbis acutis, c. II.
I have named Galen as the first Greek writer. It is also found already in
Pliny, Natur. hist. § 14 : iam omnia attingunt, qnae Graeei TTJS tyKVK\oTraideias
vocant, et tamen ignota aut incerta ingeniis facta, alia vero ita multis prodita
ut in fastidium sint adducta.

CHAP. I] § 2. USE IN THE GREEK CLASSICS 3

ing as it indicates something that forms a circle by itself ;
something that lies in a sphere or circle, or within a certain
circumference, and is thus included in it ; or something that
moves within such a circle. A round temple was called iepov
€jKi>K\Lov, because such a temple forms a circle. The Siicaia,
or common civil rights, were called eyicvKXia, because they
reside in the circle of citizens, and confine themselves
to its limits. In Athens, the \eirovpyfcu were called ey-
Kv/c\iai, and they spoke of e<yrcvtc\ia ava\(a/JLara, €y/cvK\iai
BciTrdvaL, eyKVK\ia ^uaKovrj^ara, etc., to indicate services in the
interest of the state which are rendered in turn, expenses that
returned periodically, or activities that constantly changed
after a fixed programme of rotation. Aristotle (Polit. II.,
p. 1269b, 35) calls even the daily, and therefore periodically,
returning task, ra ejKVK\ia. Thus unconsciously the idea
of that which was of a daily occurrence, and in a certain
sense ordinary and normal, was included under eytcvfc'h.ios ; 1
and it was in this process of thought that eyxvieXios was
added to jratBefa by which to indicate that kind and that
measure of instruction or knowledge which was deemed
indispensable for a normally developed Athenian citizen ;
in part, therefore, in the same sense in which Demosthenes
calls the legal rights that are common to all citizens, ejKVK\ia
BiKaia (XXV. 74),2 or, in a better sense still, Aristotle
wrote his eytcvtcXLa (/uXocro^r^uara, i.e. popular philosophy.
It is a mistake, therefore, to interpret eytcv/cXLos TratBeia as
a group of sciences which in the abstract formed a circle
or a whole, and it is equally ill-advised to understand by
it nothing more than "everyday matters of knowledge."
The idea of a circle or rotation must certainly be main
tained ; only the definition of what falls within this circle
must not be derived from the mutual connection of these
departments of knowledge as such, but from their connec
tion in relation to the forming of the young Greek.

The explanation of Quintilian (I. 10) : orbis doctrinae,

1 Isocrates describes it even as ra /card TTJV rj/j.tpa.v fKacrr^v yiyvd^tva (III. 22).

2 $ yap ovd£ rCiv laCov ov5£ rCiv iyKVK\iuv diKaiuv /merovcriav 5i56a<riv oi vd[j.oi,
OVTOS TUV a.v^K^<TTwv fT^povs afrios yiyverai OVK 6p0a)s K.T,\.

4 § :]. TRANSITION AMONG TI1K FATHERS [Div. I

<inem (Jraeci eytcvicXiov jraiSei'av vacant, is based on a mis-
understanding, as is also that of Vitruvius I. 6, praef.. and
1. '2, encyclios disciplina uti corpus unum ex his membris <-orn-
positum est : in so far as both evidently argued from the
general significance of the word ey/cu/cAto?, instead of asking
themselves the question how it was actually used by the
Greeks in connection with TratSeia. This use referred
chiefly to what was normal, as Ilesychius also interprets it
by saying, ra eyKvtc\ov/j.eva rw /3io) Kal avvijdr] ; and Strabo,
who writes that we should not call " him who is wholly
uneducated a statesman, but him who partakes of the all-
round and customary training of freemen." We should
say : the normal measure of knowledge which a civilized
citizen has at command. But Quintilian and Vitruvius
were correct in so far as they showed themselves im
pressed with the fact that there was a reason why the
Athenians did not speak of awr/dns TraiSeia, but purposely
spoke of eyKVK\ios TraiSeia. The Greek language was not
a crystallized one, like the Latin. A Greek understood and
saw through the word eyKVtc\io<;, and, when he used it in the
sense of normal, he did not abandon the original significance
of KVK\OS. With reference to his conception of it, the use
of this word in connection with TraiSeia plainly shows :
(1) that from the knowledge of his times taken as a
whole he separated certain parts ; (2) that he did not
choose these parts arbitrarily, but that he arranged them
after a given standard ; and (3) that he derived this stand
ard from a circle of life, and that, in connection with this
circle of life, he grouped his separated parts of human knowl
edge so as to form one whole. And this threefold action of
his mind assumed, at the same time, that he had more or less
objectified for himself the whole of human knowledge.

§ 3. Transition arnon;/ the Fathers

In every distinction lurks an antithesis. The eyKv/cXios
TrcuSeia, which was also called ejKVK\ta ^aQi^ara, Traibev-
/Ltara, or more simply still ra ejKi>K\ia, did not stand in
antithesis to what was beneath it, — he who had no

CHAP. I] § 3. TRANSITION AMONG THE FATHERS 5

K\IOS TrcuSeia was simply called aTrat'Seuro?, — but to the
higher development of the philosopher and the knowledge
necessary for a given profession or calling. This excelled
the common «u/c\o? of the life of the citizen. Thus ey/cvtcXios
TraiSeia was the lower and ordinary in antithesis to what was
reached by higher knowledge.

When the higher knowledge of the Christian Religion came
out of Israel into the Roman-Grecian world, it was but natu
ral that Christian scholars should class the entire heathen-
classical development with what was lower and common, in
antithesis to the higher yvwais of the Holy Scriptures. This
readily explains the fact that, as we are told by Suicer (see
his Thesaurus in voce), in the Greek of ecclesiastical liter
ature ey/cwcXto? TraiBeia gradually obtains a modified signifi
cance and comes to mean the knowledge or science which
covered the entire circle of the heathen-classical life ; over
against which stood 0€0\oyui, Qewpta, or yvoHris as higher
knowledge. Suicer infers this from what Eusebius writes
in his Church History, VI. 18, concerning Origen ; viz.
that he trained the youth in ra TT}? e£&>0ez> <£iXocro(/>ia? and
instructed them in the eyrcv/cXia, showing them the subse
quent benefit they should derive from this later on for
sacred studies. In the same sense Hesychius would explain
eyKVK\ia as being TO, e£<o ypd/j.fjt,ara^ which means that the
ey/cvtc\io<; TraiSeta formed a circle to the heathen Greek, in
which he himself was included and of which he formed the
centre ; while to the Christian Greek TO, ea-ca were the mys
teries of the Christian religion, and the eytcvicXios 7rai8eia
came to him e%a>6ev, i.e. from without his circle of life.
Thus, if a closer investigation confirms us in this view,
this transition was gradual and led to eytcvtcXios TraiBcui,
no longer signifying the common instruction given to the
ordinary citizen, but the whole realm of worldly science in
distinction from Sancta Theologia. As Zonaras states it :
" Simply every art and science."

§ 4. USAGE IN THE [Div. I

§ 4. Usage in the Period of the Reformation

With the decline of Greek culture the use of €JKV/C\LO<;
ia in its pregnant sense fell away. In the scholastic
and ecclesiastical use of the word, which formed itself under
Western influence, the original conception of the €JKVK\IO<;
TraiSeia was expressed by Trivium et Quadrivium ; and the
later conception of ra e£a> 'ypdjAfAara either by litterae pro-
fanae or artes liberales. We read nothing of Encyclopedia
in the Middle Ages. In ordinary conversation, even in that
of the " clergy," the word was lost, and only after the rise of
Humanism in the sixteenth century does it appear again ;
and then according to the interpretation of Quintilian, as the
circle of sciences. Thus Elyot writes, in 1536 : u Whiche of
some is called the ivorlde of science, of others the circle of
doctrine, whiche is in one word of Greke : Encyclopaedia."
(The Crouvernor, quoted in the Encyclopedia Britannica, un
der the word Encycl.} Evidently the use of the word by
the Greeks is here not inquired into ; the sense of the word
is indicated by the sound ; and in the wake of Quintilian,
Elyot also does not understand the KVK\O<; to be the circle
of citizens, but the circle of sciences, — the orbis doctrinae.

This cleared the way for a new transition of meaning.
In the latter part of the sixteenth and beginning of the
seventeenth century the name Encyclopedia passed from
the world of science to the book in which this " world of
science " was contained. The naive assumption that the
knowledge of the several sciences was already as good as
complete easily accounts for the several efforts that were
made during the Middle Ages to embody in one single
volume the collective knowledge with which they were sat
isfied and for which they were grateful. This sort of book
was given the name of /Speculum, Compendium, Syntagma, or
Systema ; and the effort to give manuals of this sort a
methodical arrangement met with increasing success. And
when attention was again called to the word Encyclopedia,
and this was taken as the Orbis doctrinae, it was but natural
that Encyclopedia should be considered a very proper name

CHAP. I] PERIOD OF THE REFORMATION 7

for such a vade-mecum. Ringelberg seems to have been the
first to choose it as such for the title of his Lucubrationes vel
potius absolutissima /cv/eAoTrcu&eia, published at Basle in 1541.
After him the Hungarian, Paul Scalichius de Lika (Paulus
de Scala), used it for the title of his work : Epistemon Ency
clopediae s. orbis disciplinarum turn sacrarum turn profanarum
Bas. 1559. And when it was once adopted, Encyclopedia
seemed to meet with so much favor for manuals of this sort
that when, in 1584, the Margarita pJdlosopldca by Reisch,
which had been published in Freiburg in 1503, went through
a second edition, the editor inserted also the name of Ency
clopedia on the title-page of this work. Matthias Martinius,
the well-known Reformed theologian of Bremen (f 1630), imi
tated at once the example of the publishers of Basle in his
Idea metliodicae et brevis Encyclopediae sive adumbratio uni-
versalis (1606). And when also the Reformed theologian,
loannes Henricus Alstedt, chose the same name for his Cursus
philosophicus, especially for his renowned quarto of over 2000
pages, the modified use of the word Encyclopedia became
established. In a smaller form this work was published as
early as 1608, but was republished on a much larger scale in
1620, at Herborn, and received the title, Cursus philosophi-
cae Encyclopediae ; the third volume of which also appeared
separately under the title, Septem artes liberales. This work
of Alstedt was for many years the standard work for the
study of general science, which is the more evident from
the fact that in 1649 it was reprinted, at Leyden, in four
octavo volumes. The edition of 1620 was dedicated to the
States-General of the United Netherlands.

A short sketch of Alstedt' s work is here given, so that
it may be clearly seen what was understood by Encyclo
pedia in this third significance. First we have a Compen
dium Encyclopediae philosophicae, or a catechetical resume
of the whole work. Then follows the first volume of
the real work, which is a treatise on the four Praecognita
philosophica, to wit : (1) Archeology, or the doctrine of prin
ciples ; (2) Rexiology, or the doctrine of intellectual charac
teristics ; (3) Technology, or the doctrine of the sciences ; and

8 § 4. USAGE IN THE [Dtv. I

(4) Didactics, or the doctrine of methods. These constitute
the prolegomena, and then come in turn the sciences them
selves, divided into theoretical, practical and poetical. The
theoretical are twelve in number, to wit : Metaphi/sica, Pneu-
matica, Plujsica, Arithmetica, Greometria, Cosmographia, Ura-
noscopia, Geoyraphia< Optica, Musica and Architectonica. The
practical sciences are these five : Ethica, Oeconomica (the
doctrine of the family), Politica, Scolastica (pedagogy)
and Historica. And finally the disciplinae poeticae, or the
Arts, are seven in number : (1) Lexica, ("J) Grrammatica,
(•3) Rhetorica, (4) Logica, (5) Oratorica, (6) Poetica,
(7) Mnemonica.

From this sketch it is evident that under the name of
Encyclopedia Alstedt virtually embraced all the sciences,
and was bent on establishing them mutually in technical re
lations. What he offers is no medley or hodge-podge, but
a well-ordered whole. And yet this systematizing of the
several disciplinae is merely accidental with him. His real
purpose is to collect the peculiar contents of these sciences in
a short resume, and that to such an extent that in the divi
sion Lexica he places before you successively a Hebrew, Greek
and Latin dictionary ; that under the rubric Historica he
furnishes a fairly extensive universal history ; and that under
the title of Mathematica, Musica, etc., he presents you on
each occasion with a brief manual of these sciences. But
being a man of systematic thought, he presents these col
lected contents not merely in a well-ordered succession,
but even with an introduction that throws light upon
the character of the department and upon its relation to
the other departments. When, for instance, he passes on
from Ethica to Oeconomica, Politica and Scolastica, he directs
your attention to the fact that the three last named together
form the Symbiotica, i.e. the disciplinae of social life, and
how they flow from the principles of Ethica. And since
from the comprehensiveness of the book the impression of the
relation of the several parts is of necessity somewhat lost, he
introduced the work itself with his Compendium Encyclopediae,
in which he treats exclusively the mutual relations of the

CHAP. I] PERIOD OF THE REFORMATION 9

whole and the parts. For which reason Alstedt's Encyclo
pedia stands for his times really very high. It is evidently
his purpose to exhibit before our eyes the body of the sciences
( Corpus Scientiarum) as one whole ; and he seeks to reach
this end on the one hand by giving us a description of the
members of the body, but also on the other hand by direct
ing our attention to the skeleton and the network of nerves
and veins that unite these parts.

But even with Alstedt the word Encyclopedia as such has not
received a pregnant significance. In his introduction he him
self tells us that his Encyclopedia has the same end in view
as was held by Petrus llamus in his Professio regia, by Gre-
gorius Tholosanus in his Syntaxis artis mirabilis, and by
Wower in his Polymathia. To him, therefore, Encyclopedia
is but a convenient name for what had been furnished by
others before him. With Alstedt Encyclopedia refers rather
to the exhaustive scope than to the organic coherence of his
work ; what Martinius called adumbratio universitatis. This,
however, did not prevent him from unconsciously attaching
a double significance to the name : (1) that of a book which
comprehended in brief the results of the most widely known
sciences, and (2) that of a study of the mutual relations of
the sciences. Alstedt had a systematic nature, and his
organic interpretation of science is already evident from his
announcement that it is his purpose to furnish a " description
in one exhibit of the whole estate of the kingdom of phi
losophy." To work methodically was to him an outspoken
necessity. Thus in his introduction he writes : " That the
foundation of all philosophy may be presented in one view
to systematic minds eager for learning."

§ 5. Use of the Word after the Seventeenth Century

In the second half of the seventeenth and in the course of
the eighteenth century, the systematic conception in the use
of the word Encyclopedia retires still more into the back
ground than with Alstedt. It is still used as the title for
more or less systematic reviews of the contents of separate
sciences, and medical and juridical compendiums are published

10 § 5. USE OF THE WORD AFTER 17TH CENTURY [Div. I

under the name of Encyclopedias, but in general Encyclopedia
acquires more and more the stamp of a Polyhistory. Finally
the idea of a systematic collocation of the sciences is entirely
abandoned, and, in order to condense the ever-increasing quan
tity of material in a convenient form, refuge is taken in the lexi
cographical form. Somewhat in the spirit of Suidas the alpha
bet takes the place of the organic system, and the so-called
Alphabetical Real-Encyclopedia holds its triumphant entry.
First came Jablonski with his Allgemeines Lexicon der
K'dnste und Wissenchaften, Lpz. 1721, and Zedler with
his Grosses vollstdndiges Universallexicon alter Wissenchafien
und Kiinste, 1732-1750, in 68 volumes ; followed by the
Deutsche Encyclopaedic, oder allgemeines Worterbuch aller
Kilnste und Wissenschaften in 23 volumes ; and, finally, the
still unfinished work of Ersch and G-riiber begun in 1818.
The name of Encyclopedia came especially into use for this
kind of Real-Lexicon through the Encyclopedia of Diderot
and d'Alembert and the Encyclopaedia Britannica, or a uni
versal dictionary of arts and sciences. Till, finally, Pierer,
Meyer, and Brockhaus undertook to let this Real-Lexicon
run a continuous course, and for a small price to furnish a
Conversationslexicon or Real-Encyclopaedie, which keeps the
people informed of the progress of scientific investigations.
These general Real-Lexica have found favor also in the
domain of the separate sciences, so that now there are such
alphabetical Encyclopedias for almost all departments and
sciences, partly for the learned and partly for the general
public. And in this sense, the present meaning of the word
Encyclopedia is: A work which embraces briefly, and in alpha
betical order, the most important particulars thus far known
of each of the subjects that belong either to a single depart
ment of science or to the domain of science at large. The
distinction between the non-theological and theological
sciences is here utterly lost from view. Already, in Io59,
this antithesis had been abandoned by Paulus de Scala.
Martinius and Alstedt had still respected it. But when
the Polyhistory excluded all system from Encyclopedia, of
itself this antithesis also fell away.

CHAP. I] §6. USAGE OF THE WORD IN OUR CENTURY 11

§ 6. Usage of the Word in our Century

The understanding of Encyclopedia, as a brief resume of
the results of a science, was still held in our century in so
radical a sense, that in the Introduction to his Encyclopaedie
und Methodologie der Philologischen Wissenschaft, Lpz. 1877,
p. 36, Boeckh writes that the conception of Encyclopedia lies
in its being " a general presentation," and then adds : "A
logical scheme is not necessarily involved in it, seeing that
it might be constructed simply as an Alphabetical Encyclo
pedia. I do not mean to say that an Encyclopedia should
be devoid of all logical character, but only, as an Encyclo
pedia it is not necessary." All idea of system is thus ex
cluded from the conception attached by him to the name.
To him it is no orbis doctrinae, as it was to Elyot, nor
a " description of the estate of the kingdom of sciences "
(delineatio latifundii regni scientiarum) as it was to Alstedt.
To him no system follows from the idea of Encyclopedia.
From its very nature it needs but to be an agglomerate ;
and if it has any connection, that flows from its general
character, and not from its nature as Encyclopedia.

The use of the word Encyclopedia came, however, to
stand in direct opposition to this under the influence of
modern philosophy, after Hegel chose the name of Ency
clopedia as title for his systematic review of philosophy
(Encyclopaedia der Phil. Wissenschaft, Heidelb. 1817, 1827,
1830, Berlin, 1840 and 1843. Scimmtl. Werke, Bd. 6, 7 a and
76). Before Hegel, Klugel, G. F. Reuss, J. G. Buhle, K.
Ruef, W. J. G. Krug, E. Schmid and others had used the
name of Encyclopedia for their expositions of the relations of
the sciences or of the departments of any one science. Mur-
sinna and Clarisse did the same in theology, J. S. Putter in
law and Boerhaave in medicine. But the idea of system in
the conception of Encyclopedia came to the foreground with
full consciousness only when Fichte took science itself to be
an object of science, and when Hegel, in the same track,
wedded the name of Encyclopedia to this idea. Science, as
such, now became an object of scientific investigation ; the

12 §7. CONCLUSION [Div. I

idea of system became the chief aim in Encyclopedia; and from
the material of each science so much only was taken as was
necessary for the proper understanding of its organic life.

This idea, which answered so fully the need of our time,
extended itself, though slowly, from science in general to
the individual sciences. Special Encyclopedias also ceased
to be compendia, and more and more took the form of sci
entific investigation into the nature of these special sciences.
There were differences in the proportionate treatment of
what was formal and material in a science. In several
Encyclopedias the resume of the general data of a science
was still very extensive, while from other Encyclopedias
it almost entirely disappeared. But, even with this by no
means insignificant difference, the idea of system came more
and more to be viewed by almost every one as the distin
guishing mark of the Encyclopedical treatment. Tims,
while with Alstedt Encyclopedia is still the name of a book,
it has come to be more and more the name of a separate
science.

§ 7. Conclusion

This brief review of the use of the word Encyclopedia
leads to the following result. The use of this word has
passed through five stages. (1) Originally the Greek
attached the significance to it of a certain group of subjects
of knowledge whose scope was determined by the circle of
the life of the Athenian citizen. (2) The rise of Christian
Theology extended this significance to the entire heathen-
classical science in distinction from Theology- (3) Reviving
Humanism used it in the sense of Compendium, and, with a
weak effort to furnish a systematic exposition, it embraced
under it the entire Humanistical knowledge. (4) During
the most flourishing period of Polyhistory, Encyclopedia
became the name for an alphabetical agglomerate of what
was noteworthy in every subject in general, with the exclu
sion of almost all conception of system. And, finally (5),
through the rise of the newer philosophy the word Encyclo
pedia became the name of an independent science, which has
for its object of investigation all other science.

CHAP. I] § 7. CONCLUSION 13

Thus the word Encyclopedia serves successively to indi
cate a part of human knowledge ; then profane science ; then,
it is used as the name of a book, taken partly as compendium
and partly as an alphabetical agglomerate ; and, finally, as the
name of an independent science.

But however different these five interpretations may seem,
the fundamental significance, that led to the formation of the
word Encyclopedia, is not lost. By his ey/ev/eXto? TratSeta
the Greek divided the whole of human knowledge ; i.e. he
objectified it, analyzed it, and brought a certain order into it,
while by his e'7/cwcXio? he bound the separated part to a given
circle. The Christian writers did this same thing; only
with this difference, that the part separated by them was
larger, that it was bound to a more extended circle, and that
this circle was determined by another principle as its centre.
The Humanists put the content of this part of human knowl
edge in the place of the abstract conception of it, and tried
to fix the boundary of the circle, in which this part of
knowledge moved, not by the persons with whom it be
longed, but by the organic coherence of this knowledge
itself. Polyhistory and Real-Encyclopedia in the alpha
betical form gave, like the Compendia of the Humanists,
the content of the knowledge itself, but under the two
restrictions, that that only would be taken up which was
of importance either to the circle of the learned or of the
public at large, and that the circle in which one moved
was not bound to the science itself, but, as with the Greek,
to the " learned " or educated public. And finally the latest
interpretation, which gives the name of Encyclopedia to an
individual science that takes all the other sciences for the
object of its investigation, turns from the content of the
Humanists and of Polyhistory to the well-ordered concep
tion of the Greeks, i.e. to a norma for the grouping; only
with this difference, that it interprets this ordering, for
mulating and grouping organically, and so on the one hand
extends them to the whole realm of science, and on the other
hand causes them to be governed by the principle of science
itself.

14 § 7. CONCLUSION [Div. I

The reason which has led to the repeated resumption of
the word Encyclopedia, and which finally implanted this
organic sense in it, lies in the conception of the KVK\OS.
That the Greek took this word to define the TraiSeia, shows
that there was present in his mind the idea of what belonged
together within the realm of human knowledge and grouped
itself about one common centre. The Polyhistor and the
alphabetical Real-Encyclopedist weakened this conception.
The writers of the old Compendia, and they wiio at present
seek in Encyclopedia chiefly the idea of organic relation,
cause this original motive of the Greeks to assert itself
again, and also enlarge upon it. Quintilian already con
ceived something of the rich development of which this
motive of the KVK\OS was susceptible when he interpreted
Encyclopedia by " orbis doctrinae."

This motive will ever maintain the supremacy in the
meaning of the word, even though the sense has lost for
us something of the riches attached to the KVK\OS by the
Greek, especially in relation to the crfyalpa (see Plato,
de Legibus, X., p. 898 a). If it is not possible for science
to be anything but a unit, if it has an inner impulse which
determines its course, and if in this course it is fastened
or bound to a fixed point, as a circle to its centre, there
can be no reason to question the propriety of the devel
opment of the meaning of this word " Encyclopedia," by
which it has come to mean the investigation of the organ
ism of science. To avoid confusion of speech, therefore,
it would be well, if from now on the alphabetical collection
of separate articles would call itself nothing but Lexicon, —
either Real-Lexicon in a general, or Lexicon for Arts and
Sciences in a special, sense, — so that Encyclopedia might
be exclusively used as the name of that science which has
science itself as its object of investigation.

CHAPTER II

THE IDEA OF ENCYCLOPEDIA

§ 8. The First Appearance of this Idea

The historic career of the idea of Encyclopedia is different
from that of the name. Much of what falls under this idea
bore a different name, while on the other hand the name
Encyclopedia has repeatedly been used for what was entirely
foreign to the idea of it. The idea of Encyclopedia lies in
the conception that the several parts of human knowledge
are related to each other, and that it is possible and neces
sary for our mind to penetrate into this relation and to expli
cate it. When a group of phenomena reflects itself in a
mirror, man is compelled to investigate not merely those
phenomena, but also the reflected image, by means of Optics.
And what Optics effects for the image presented to sight,
Encyclopedia designs to do for the reflection of what exists
in our science. There lies a majesty in the human mind by
virtue of which it cannot rest until it has acquired full domin
ion in the world of thought. It cannot bear the suggestion
that there should still be something in that world of thought
that has withdrawn itself from the power of its sceptre.
This impels it to scan not merely the whole horizon of
phenomena with its knowledge, but the field of knowledge
itself with its thought. An atornistical science offends the
unity-sense of its own mind, or, by the pulverizing of the
cosmos, robs that mind of confidence of step in its walk.
And therefore it is bound to presume a relation between
the parts of its knowledge also, nor can it rest until it has
seen through that relation organically, because in this way
only can science harmonize with the organic unity of its own
thinking, as well as with the organic unity of the Kosmos.

16 §8. THE FIliST A1TKAHANCK OF THIS IDKA [Div. I

P»ut the human mind does not subject this field of knowl
edge to its greatness all at once. At best it is a process of
slow growth. A space of twenty-three centuries separates
Plato from Fichte's Wisxenscliaftdelire and Hegel's Encyclo
paedic, and Real-Encyclopedia still stands only at the very
beginning of its clearer development. If Diogenes Laertius
(IV. I, 5) can be believed, Plato already ventured upon a
somewhat systematic classification of the several parts of our
knowledge in a lost work, AidXoyoi TMV Trepl rr/v TrpayfiaTet'av
6fjLot'(t)v. The same is said of Speusippus, Plato's kinsman, in
his "OpoL, and of Aristotle in his Tlepl eTnarrifjiwv ; but since
these writings have not been preserved, it is not possible to
judge of the tendency of these studies. So much, however,
is certain, that in those circles serious thinking was already
begun upon the TratSeia in general and the €7ricrTf)/nai as such,
but it took at once a more practical course. Aristotle indeed
defined the boundary and the task of the several sciences.
And Varro and Pliny actually put together the contents of
different parts of knowledge. The organism itself of the
plant was not reached ; flowers were picked and tied to
gether as bouquets, but in such a way that the relation was
found at first almost solely in the cord that was twined
about the stems, and a harmonious arrangement of flowers
after their kinds is scarcely yet suggested. Yarro's Rerum
humanarum et divinarum antiquitates and his Disciplinarian
libri IX have both been lost, and Pliny's Historia naturalis
is the only treatise that enables us to form any idea of the
defectiveness of these first efforts.

With Hugo of St. Victor (f!141) and Vincent of Beau-
vais (fl'264) the eye is opened to this harmony in classifica
tion. That which Marcianus Capella (f-106) gives us in his
Satyricon, Cassiodorus (ff)62) in his Institutio divinarum
litterarum, Isidore of Seville (fOBG) in his Oriffines, and
Hrabanus Maurus (f85G) in his De universo libri XXII.
strives indeed after unity, as may be seen from Hraba-
nus' title, but succeeds only in the presentation of a dis
tasteful and overdone bouquet. Hugo of St. Victor, on the
other hand, seems to have an eye for the inner relation of

CHAP. II] § 9. DEVELOPMENT OF THE ORGANIC IDEA 17

the sciences when in his Eruditio didascalia he gives us a
descriptio et partitio artium, in which he endeavors to show
quomodo unaquaeque disciplina contineat aliam et ab alia con-
tineatur. But even his systematic talent did not reach far.
He divides the disciplinae into three groups: (1) the theorica
contra ignorantiam (to wit: theology, physics and mathe
matics); (2) the practica contra vitium (to wit: ethics,
oeconomics and politics); and (3) the mechanica contra in-
firmitatem (to wit: mechanica, to which the trivium is added).
Vincent followed chiefly the division of Hugo, Avhich (with
the exception of the change of mechanica into poetica) held
its ground till the seventeenth century, but he gave it a more
enduring phase by the division of his giant work into specu
lum historiale, naturale and doctrinale, to which was added
at a later date a speculum morale by one of his followers.
The mutual relation of the sciences is grasped somewhat
more firmly already by Bonaventura (f 1274) and by Thomas
Aquinas (f!274). Excellent suggestions are given by Louis
de Vives (f!540) in his XX books de cans, corrupt, art.
de trad, discipl. et de ortibus ; but this relation was grasped
for the first time as organic by Bacon of Verulam (f 1626),
who in his work de dignitate et augmentis scientiarum (Lond.
1624), and more yet in his organon scientiarum (1620), divided
the sciences organically, i.e. after a principle derived from
those sciences themselves. The development of this idea
could follow only when the task of collecting the contents
of ready knowledge gave place to reflection on the relations
of what had been collected. No doubt, only those who have
never looked into Alstedt's Encyclopedia can dispute the
fact that this gigantic systematician had the systematizing
talent : but the material to be collected began to be too ex
tensive for the handling of it all and the deeper study of its
relations to lie within the reach of a single scholar.

§ 9. Development of the Organic Idea

Since from the days of Plato the human mind has been
dimly conscious of the fact that the several parts of our
knowledge form one body (o-w/ia) ; since it has been sought

18 § 9. DEVELOPMENT OF THE ORGANIC IDEA [Div. I

in every way to give expression to this consciousness by the
actual collection of the several fragments of this one knowl
edge in one work, or more correctly by reflecting it in one
speculum ; and since the arrangement of this crude mass of
itself demanded an account of the manner in which these
members of this one body were related, — the ever-increasing
burden of ready knowledge needed to be thrown from the
shoulder before the human mind could be sufficiently free,
with ever more detiniteness of purpose, to choose this rela
tion as the object of investigation. Two phenomena hastened
this process. On the one hand, the advent of the alphabetic!,
who, for the sake of making their books usable, purposely
abandoned the systematic track and at an early period sought
the Ariadne-thread for the labyrinth of their articles in the
a b c ; and on the other hand the revival of the philosophical
tendency that marks the second half of the eighteenth cen
tury. When the alphabetic! cast the systematic method over
board, it was natural for others to fish it up. And when, the
philosophical tendency everywhere went, by way of the trunk,
down to the root, the duty lay at hand of finding a principle
according to which the sciences themselves might be divided.
For a long time the remembrance of the word Encyclopedia
was altogether lost. Used to a material encyclopedia, men
thought that the encyclopedic domain was abandoned as soon
as they withdrew from the bazaar for the sake of the exclu
sive study of the invoice of the goods on hand. The real-
lexicographers, who had abandoned the Encyclopedic idea,
were reputed the only persons still entitled to the name of
Encyclopedists, while the actual Encyclopedists, who gave
themselves to the study of the organism of the sciences, did
not dream of taking possession of their title.

Johann August Ernesti wrote under the title of Inifia doc-
trinae solidioris (1730), and his friend J. M. (ies.sner treated
his subject as Primae lineae isagoyes in eruditionem univer-
salem (1745), thus furnishing actual encyclopedia without a
single thought about the name of Encyclopedia. In his
Kurzer Inlegriff oiler Wissenschaften (175(>), which is fol
lowed in the main by Reimarus, Kliigel, Biisch and Buhle,

CHAP. II] § 10. VICTORY OF THE ORGANIC IDEA 19

Sulzer and his followers no doubt furnished some system, but
with a brief resume of the content for every department of
science. With them formal Encyclopedia obtained no inde
pendent position as it did with Ernesti and Gessner. Even
Eschenburg, who in his Lehrbuch der Wissenschaftskunde,
1792, embodied Kant's idea, as well as his followers Hefter,
Burdach and Kraus, continued to look upon the formal as
the frame in which the material was arranged ; and it is
only in Erhard Schmid's G-rundriss der allgemeinen Encyclo
paedic und Methodologie (1810), in Schaller's Encyclopaedic
und Methodologie der Wissenschaften (1812), and partly in
lasche's Architectonik der Wissenschaften (1816), that the
suggestion of Ernesti and Gessner is worked out, and the
consciousness returns that this study of science as science
is Encyclopedia in its real sense.

§ 10. Victory of the Organic Idea

And yet these men only stood in the vestibule ; Johann
Gottlieb Fichte was the first to unlock the temple itself
by his treatises on Die Bestimmung des G-elehrten (1794)
and Das Wesen des Crelehrten (1806); but especially by his
numerous monographs on the Wissenschaftslehre, which after
1804 he prepared for his classes in Berlin and which later he
explained and defended. This does not mean that in these
studies Fichte gave us a true Encyclopedia. On the con
trary, in his Wissenschaftslehre no trace of this can be found.
But Fichte marked knowing itself as the object of an inde
pendent science; and thus quickened the dim consciousness
that the encyclopedic insight into the organism of the sci
ences was not merely an auxiliary aid by which to create
order in the chaos, nor simply tended to satisfy the sys
tematic inclination and longing after order that is active in
the man of science, but that the insight into the nature and
into the organic relation of the sciences is an aim which
must be striven after per se as an indispensable part of our
knowledge. " Das Wissen vom Wissen" as Fichte preferred
to call it, is the root from which all fundamental Encyclo
pedia germinates. By this watchword the truth had come

20 §11. THE BREAK IN THE PROCESS [J)iv. 1

to light that the " knowledge " of man forms a world by
itself ; that without unity of principle this world of our
knowledge remains unintelligible; and that the necessary
relation between (1) man who knoivs, (2) knowledge as such,
and (3) the knoum, or the thus far acquired science, must be
explained organically from this one principle. Only when this
was perceived with some measure of clearness was the science
of Encyclopedia born. Not that this is the only science that
is called to solve the problem in all its parts. One only of
these three parts is its appointed task. The Wissenschafts-
lehre has knowledge ( Wissen) itself for its object ; Logic
takes knowing man as its object of investigation; and Ency
clopedia confines itself to the investigation of science as an
independent whole. But it is only by Fichte's radical for
mulations in the domain of the Wissemchuftslehre that the in
dependent character of Encyclopedia entered into the sense
of our times. Now, indeed, it was felt that the unit of
science formed a well-rounded whole ; that an inwardly
impelling power determined the circumference of its circle :
and that the place for each of its parts is assigned by the
character of its organism. From technic, which it had thus
far been, Encyclopedia was changed into a philosophical
conception; and when animated by this thought Schelling
published his Vorlesunyen iiber die Metlwde des Academischen
fitudiums, and Tittmann and Beneke in like manner dis
placed the mechanical interpretation of the study by the
organic, the process but awaited the intellectual powers of
a Hegel to give us the first encyclopedia in the higher sense,
if not of all, at least of philosophical, science.

§ 11. The Break in the Process

This very advent of Encyclopedia, as a philosophical sci
ence which has science itself for its object, rendered the
execution of an Encyclopedia of general science provision
ally impossible, and necessitated seeking the development of
this new-born science first in the domain of the special sci
ences. Here also progress was to be made from the special
to the general. Thus the second half especially of this ceri-

CHAP. II] § 11. THE BREAK LNT THE PROCESS 21

tury has witnessed the publication of a considerable number
of special Encyclopedias, which as a rule have followed the
division of the great field of science into a theological,
philological, juridical, medical and physical science. Two
factors have cooperated to further the course of this process.
First the difficulty presented itself that he only who himself
was well versed in a science is able to write its Encyclopedia
with any hope of success, and that in view of the vast
expanse of detailed knowledge and literature required for
every special science, it becomes more and more inconceiv
able that one man should be able to command this sufficient
knowledge of all the departments of science. However
much, therefore, Encyclopedia is also an undoubted part
of philosophical science, yet it is entirely impossible that
one philosopher should be able to manipulate all the ma
terial for the science of Encyclopedia. No other course,
therefore, was open but the one by which Theological
Encyclopedia is developed by theologians, Historical by
historians, Medical by physicians, etc., i.e. by each one for
his own department; and only when each of these separate
Encyclopedias has reached sufficient development can the
man arise who may unite the results of these subdivisions
into one philosophical whole. And on the other hand, the
writing of an Encyclopedia has scarcely ever been under
taken without the practical aim of introducing students
of a given faculty into their science. A certain KVK\OS
is necessary for every Encyclopedia, and this was given in
the historical division of the faculties. Because of the sub
division of its task, the Philosophical faculty alone has de
parted from this, and has divided itself into philosophical,
philological, historical and natural philosophy groups ; and
where the natural philosophy and literary faculties are also
divided as faculties, as they are in the Netherlands, distinction
has still further been made between the philological and philo
sophical task of the latter. This course of Enc}~clopedical
study has an undeniable disadvantage. In the first place, a
jurist, theologian, physician or philologian may readily fall
short of philosophical unity and power of thought. Secondly,

22 § 12. PROVISIONAL RESULT [Div. I

instead of the principle of science itself, the historical divi
sion of the faculties has become the motive of the division.
Thirdly, the practical purpose has tempted more frequently
to the production of a convenient manual than to the writ
ing of a scientific Encyclopedia. And fourthly (an evil indi
cated already by Fichte and Griiber), the former custom of
introducing the students into the imiversitas scientiarum
too, as well as into their own department, has been more
and more neglected. The academy has become an agglom
erate of faculty-schools, and the university idea in its later
interpretation has lost something of its inner truth.

§ 12. Provisional Result

This review of the development of the Encyclopedic idea,
in connection with the history of the name of Encyclopedia,
yields the following result. The Encyclopedic idea sprang
from the dim consciousness that the knowledge at our ser
vice can be made the subject of thought, which study brings
about the classification of its material into groups. This dim
consciousness found at first only a practical expression, which
is evident from the choice of the name e'7/cu/cXto?, and from
the distinction that was made between a higher and lower,
a holy or profane, group of knowledge. Then the body,
or crco/u,a, of this knowledge was objectified in large com
pendia, which collected all disposable knowledge and so
presented it as a unity. The classification in these compen
dia was at first entirely arbitrary or accidental, till gradu
ally the need made itself felt of introducing system into this
arrangement. This systematizing became ever more difficult
as the material to be arranged constantly grew in volume,
till finally the two motives parted company, and the material
was arranged on the one hand alphabetically, exclusive of
all system, while on the other hand the arrangement and the
relation were studied independently. This latter study was
provisionally almost exclusively technical, till Fichte gave
the impetus to postulate the investigation of the organic
system of all science itself as a necessary and independent
science. The misunderstanding presented itself here, for a

CHAP. II] § 12. PROVISIONAL RESULT 23

while, that the name of Encyclopedia was held by those who,
in the collection of the material, sacrificed every Encyclopedic
idea ; while the students of true Encyclopedia allowed the
name to be lost. But during the last decennials, Encyclo
pedia, as name also, has returned to its proper study, and the
Real-Lexica as compendiums of the material and the Ency
clopedias as studies of the organic relation of this material,
separate. Provisionally these Encyclopedic studies, in the
narrower sense, are still of a more special character ; and
only when these special studies shall have reached a resting-
point where they can take each other by the hand, will the
time come in which general Encyclopedia can again be suc
cessfully studied.

CHAPTER III

THE CONCEPTION OF ENCYCLOPEDIA

§ 13. Forming of the Conception

The word, the idea, and the conception of Encyclopedia
are genetically related. Hence in Encyclopedia also the old
feud can be renewed, whether the conception lies at the begin
ning or at the end of the development of the encyclopedic
thought. To prevent misunderstanding, let it be stated that
this paragraph takes "conception" in the last-mentioned
sense. It is not difficult to account for this choice in the use
of the word. The process of thought that takes place in the
human spirit consists by no means merely in the linking
together of those series of thoughts which you have willed
to think, and by thinking have produced. This is but the
labor which as an arboriculturist you have performed in the
garden of your thoughts. But as the work of the gardener
is only possible because of the fertility of the garden, and
because this growth in his garden impels him to work,
which work he himself directs, so also in the human mind
there lives a world of thought, in which is growth and luxu
riance of life independently of the human will and disposi
tion ; and from this living world of thought one receives the
impulse to think himself, and by this impulse mental effort
is directed and defined. When this is lost from sight, we
may have persons who think, but there is no development
of thought in the human mind. The common element is
then wanting from our thinking, by which alone the under
standing of each other becomes possible. In this way all
thought becomes aphoristical dilettantism and human lan
guage inconceivable. If we now apply this to the " con
ception," it follows that the conception also is no form

CHAP. Ill] § 13. FORMING OF THE CONCEPTION 2o

of thought which we ourselves cast, but that it germinates,
grows, and ripens independently of us, and is only plucked
by us. As the flower was already present in the seed, and
unfolded itself from it by a lawful development, so does
the clear conception spring slowly from a process in our
world of thought, which primarily at least went on alto
gether outside our consciousness. And yet this unconscious
working produces its effect upon our act. The infant seeks
the mother-breast and drinks without having the least im
pression of what the breast is, or the mother, or the milk.
From that unconscious substrata of our life germinates first
of all impression. This impression is first defined by the
word by which it is expressed. The idea which impels us
springs from it but gradually. And only when this idea
inspires us, and has impelled us to act, does the bud set
itself and by degrees unfold; till at length as fruit of
empirical knowledge our insight becomes possible into the
structure of the flower, and our conception forms itself.

Speaking, therefore, in the organic sense, this "concep
tion " was already present in its germ in the first impulse
that worked in us from the unconscious world of thought ;
this conception germinated in the impression ; it matured into
the idea ; it directed us in our practical actions ; and finally
objectified itself in our forming of the conception. If, on
the other hand, you take the "conception" as you grasped
it in its completed form, then of course it became observable
only at the end of this process of thought, and to you it had
its birth at that moment only in which you plucked it.

Applying this to Encyclopedia, we find that the concep
tion of Encyclopedia also was not cast by us arbitrarily, but
that it germinated of necessity and defined itself. This
conception is no product of our imagination, but it com
pelled our thought to take it up into itself. As such the
germ was already prepared, when the first impulse began to
work in the human mind, from which sprang all Encyclopedic
study. But if you take this conception, as here it must
be taken, in distinction from the idea, the word, and the
impression, then it only began to exist for you at that mo-

26 § 14. CRITICAL DEMAND [Div. 1

ment when with a clear insight you grasped the thought
that impelled you. Genetically, therefore, we stand before
this process: that originally in the human mind there
worked the need of bringing a certain order into the chaos of
its knowledge, not arbitrarily, but agreeably to a distin
guishing principle that forced itself upon it. Further, that
this need quickened the impression that there is a certain
order in what presented itself to it as chaos, and that for this
impression also it sought a representation in the figure and
activity of the cyclos, and that in this way it formed the
word Encyclopedia. That under the impulse of this impres
sion clarified by the word, it performed Encyclopedical labor,
That first with less and then with greater clearness the
Encyclopedic idea led it in this work. And that only after
this the Encyclopedical thought in turn was thought out by
it, till at length it was able to give itself an account of what
it accomplished and aimed at in this Encyclopedical labor.
In this way only it grasped the Encyclopedic thought with
entire clearness of consciousness, and thus formed its con
ception.

§ 14. Critical Demand

In forming this definition of the conception we must
work critically. Simply to construe the conception out of
all that presents itself as Encyclopedic work is already
impossible, because the great variety of matter exhibited
under this label allows of no unity of conception. Just
because Encyclopedic students were impelled for a long
time by the impression only, led by the word, or inspired by
the idra, but lacked the verification of the clear conception,
it could not but happen that many things allied more or less
distantly to Encyclopedia were ornamented with its name;
that a good deal belonging to it was wrongly interpreted;
and that a large share of inseparable essentials was neg
lected. The definition of the conception of Encyclopedia
demands, therefore, a critical discrimination of matter, and
whiie on the one hand the idea must be grasped from
what presents itself under this name, on the other hand also
the historical content must be marked out agreeably to the

CHAP. Ill] § 15. ENCYCLOPEDIC NECESSITY 27

demand of this idea. The lack of a pure definition of the con
ception has created much confusion and error, and it is the
duty of the conception-definition to restore us from these paths
of error to the right track, and from this confusion to clear
distinctions. For this reason our investigation began with
the consideration of the word and its original significance, in
order to grasp the root-idea of Encyclopedia as such; after
this we traced the empirical use of this word under the
guidance of the idea ; but now from this root-idea the con
ception must be dialectically grasped and fixed. It is the
root-idea that the human mind brings about a certain dis
tinction and order in the chaos of our human knowledge,
which is not done arbitrarily, but agreeably to a fixed order
assumed to be present there. Under the lead of the general
Encyclopedic idea this seeking after order in the chaos
took place practically in all sorts of ways. First there was
a classifying of this human knowledge by distinguishing
between certain groups belonging to a fixed sphere or circle
of life. Then order was sought by collecting the treasure of
accessible knowledge into proper arrangement. After that
the effort to establish order was made by placing the several
departments of knowledge in a certain logical relation.
And, finally, the attempt was made to penetrate to the
organism itself, which science taken as a whole presents.
It is not proper arbitrarily to mark one of these four mean
ings as the conception of Encyclopedia. Hence we must
see along which of these lines the lawful development of the
Encyclopedic thought comes to its conception.

§ 15. Encyclopedic Necessity

This investigation is governed by the antithesis of chaos
and order. If we ourselves bring order into the chaos of
our knowledge, after whatever manner we please, there is
no Encyclopedic conception possible, because in that case
every age and scholar is free to do this as he wills. But if
we have no such liberty, then there is a something that
binds us, and the question must be put as to what compels
us logically to take this order in this way and not in the

28 § If.. SCIENTIFIC CMIAHACTKK [Div. I

other, and with what right a succeeding- generation disap
proves in part of the interpretation of a bygone generation
and improves upon it. This compulsion springs in the iirst
instance from the logical necessity which dominates in our
thought. But this is not all. For then the question arises
whether this logical necessity for our thinking has its ground
in our thinking itself alone, or whether it proceeds from
data outside of our thinking. Or, if you like to apply this
to Encyclopedia, we face the question whether the necessity
of bringing Encyclopedic order into this chaos of our knowl
edge in one way and not in another, is born solely from the
fact that by our thinking itself we arrange this knowledge
in this order and not in the other, or whether this Encyclo
pedic order is imposed upon that thinking by something that,
outside of the thinker, lies in the object itself. Upon what
ground the latter is assumed will be explained by the inves
tigation of the conception of science. Here we merely state
that in our bringing about of Encyclopedic order in the
chaotic treasure of our knowledge, we are governed in t\vo
respects by a compulsory order which is separable from our
thinking. First, because the treasure of knowledge which
we obtain by our thinking does not originate first by our
thinking, but exists before we think; and, on the other hand,
because the knowledge to be arranged in order stands in
relation to a world of phenomena Avhich is independent of
our thought. Since now that world of our knowledge and
that world of phenomena are not chaotic but organic, our
thinking cannot rest till in the treasure of our knowledge it
has exhibited such an Encyclopedic order as will harmonize
with the organic relation both of that world of our knowl
edge and of that world of phenomena. Thus our human
spirit is not to invent a certain order for our knowledge, but
to seek out and to indicate the order which is already there.

§ 10. Scientific Character

This necessity alone imparts to Encyclopedic study its
scientific character. With every other interpretation it may
lie a plav of tin; imagination, it may be art, but no science.

CHAF. Ill] § 10. SCIENTIFIC CHARACTER 29

For a hiatus remains in our scientific consciousness as long
us the mind of man has not investigated with its thinking
not only the whole of the rest of the /coV/io?, but also the
processes of its own thought upon this /eo'cr/uo?. If from this
the necessity arises for man to begin a scientific investiga
tion of himself as a thinking being and of the lairs which his
thinking obeys, then there follows from this at the same time
the demand that he shall make science itself an object of
investigation and exhibit to his consciousness the organism
of science. Man, indeed, with the first rise of the Encyclo
pedic impulse, dealt with the mass of general knowledge,
which was at his disposal as a chaos, but now science itself
as object takes its place. Science is distinguished from
general knowledge by the fact that science puts the emphasis
upon the order in that knowledge. Science is systematic,
i.e. it is knowledge orderly arranged. The native physician
among the negroes in Africa deals only with flesh and bone,
while the scientific European or American physician deals
with a body, and his medical science is founded upon the
organic existence of the body. In the same way the dilettant-
Encyclopedist asks merely after the knowledge at hand,
Avhile the Encyclopedist who is a man of science interprets
that knowledge as a system, and understands it consequently
as science. And this decides the question as to which one
of the four interpretations of Encyclopedic arrangement
mentioned in § 15 is scientifically correct.

Let a fairly complete collection of medicines be brought
together, all of which are well known to you, and let it be
your duty to arrange this chaos of medicines scientifically.
How will you do it? Will you sort the medicines according
to the several patients, one of whom will require this, the
other that? Will you sort them according to the manner in
which they are put up, bottles with bottles, powders with
powders ? Or will you imitate the druggist, who gives them
places most conveniently at hand for sale? By no means.
The first assortment, according to the patients, is proper for
the messenger who is to bring the medicines to the houses ;
the second assortment is convenient for transporting medi-

30 § 10. SCIENTIFIC CHARACTER [Div. I

cines in large quantities ; and the third assortment is neces
sary in part for the convenient arrangement of bottles and
pots on the drug-store shelves. But even though with these
three modes of sorting, the nature, effect, and use of the
medicines are measurably considered, these assortments are
not scientific. For a scientific arrangement of them the
physician must enter upon the organic relations of this
world of medicines, and from this derive a principle for
determining the arrangement. Applying this to the treas
ures of accessible knowledge, we find that the Greeks sorted
originally according to the need of the patients, i.e. of those
who were to be aided by the TraiSeia ; that the compilers of
the great Compendia sorted according to the principle of
bottles with bottles and powders with powders, and only
paid attention to the necessities of packing; Alstedt and
his followers sorted just like the druggist, according to the
logical arrangement with regard to use in the schools ; while
scientific Encyclopedists alone have taken into account the
organism of science itself. Without doubt, a leading thought
predominated in the first three assortments, but that leading
thought was not inherent in the treasure of knowledge itself.
It could be taken in one way as well as in another, and
lacked the mark of necessity, while it did not take sufficient
account of the fact that there is an inherent order in our
knowledge itself. Just like the negro physician, they be
held flesh and bone, but failed to discern the bod// in them,
and therefore could give no account of the skeleton, veins,
and systems of muscles and nerves by which the whole
was knit together. As soon, however, as it was seen that
we need not bring order into our knowledge, but must
merely trace out the order which is already in it, Encyclo
pedia became scientific. From being investigation into a
mechanical arrangement, it now became the study of an
organic life-relation. We now deal with a dominant prin
ciple, which of necessity, and according to a fixed law, has
effected the organic relation, and in this way only the effort
has been born not merely to indicate that relation, but also
to trace out both that principle and its working.

CHAP. Ill] § 17. LIMITATION OF THE CONCEPTION 31

§ 17. Limitation of the Conception

From this it follows that the compilation of the rich mass
of our knowledge into an alphabetical or systematic manual,
when arranged alphabetically, has nothing in common with
Encyclopedia ; and that even if this could be done system
atically, it would be the application of Encyclopedia to the
exhibition of our knowledge, but could by no means be
Encyclopedia itself. It likewise follows that a resum6 of
the most important data of our knowledge must no doubt
deal with the results of Encyclopedia, but is not warranted in
a single instance in bearing the name of Encyclopedia itself.
And it also follows that the collection of the historia literaria
for any department, and the indication of its auxiliaries, by
itself has nothing in common with the science of Encyclo
pedia. Encyclopedic science is undoubtedly productive of
fruits for such compendia and manuals, and is entitled to
the distinction that the writers of such books deal with its
results, but as a science it must be studied for its own sake.
Its aim must ever be to grasp the inner organism of science
as such. If indeed, as with other sciences, it was practical
interests which impelled to this study, so that only after
wards the theory was discovered by which to reach the scien
tific method, this does by no means warrant the attempt to
derive the conception of Encyclopedia from these first efforts.
Here also the conception ripens only when Encyclopedia
becomes conscious of the aim it has in view and has found
the way by which to reach it. Whatever, therefore, in the
several existing encyclopedias serves to provide material, or
to indicate auxiliaries, or to simplify the review by means of
summaries, does not belong to Encyclopedia proper. It is
superfluous and troublesome ballast, or it is the application
of a result of Encyclopedia, while Encyclopedia proper has
the floor only when science itself, in its organic existence,
is the object of investigation, the aim of which is not to
create order in the chaos, but to show that that which at first
made the impression upon us of existing chaotically, appears
on closer investigation to exist cosmically or organically.

32 § 18. SUBDIVISION OF PHILOSOPHY [Div. I

§ 18. Subdivision of Philosophy

So much is gained by this fur the conception of Encyclo
pedia, that now we understand by it that science which takes
the organism of science itself for the object of its investiga
tion. This decides equally the question as to what place
this science itself occupies in the unit of sciences. From
this it appears that Medical Encyclopedia does not belong
to the medical sciences, that Theological Encyclopedia does
not belong to the theological sciences, etc., but that all
Encyclopedic study is philosophical, and forms a subdivision
of philosophy. As long as Encyclopedia was understood to
be a real-lexicon or a manual for early beginners, this idea
remained nebulous. In this sort of works the special
content of every department was the main interest, and the
Encyclopedic thought was seen only occasionally peering
from behind the scenes. Thus Theological Encyclopedia
was looked upon as a theological, and Juridical Ency
clopedia as a juridical, department, and the real nature of
Encyclopedia was not grasped. But when it is once af
firmed that the special material but serves to discover the
hidden relations in it, and is cast aside as soon as this is
found, in order to keep these relations themselves as the
object with which to deal, the philosophical character of
Encyclopedia is hereby defined. Encyclopedia belongs then
to those sciences by which man as a thinking being seeks
to give himself an account of the world of his thoughts, and
is, as such, a subdivision of philosophy. This would have
been at once and clearly perceived if the Encyclopedic science
could immediately have busied itself with the whole field of
its investigation. No one would then have given general
Encyclopedia a place elsewhere. And only the accidental
circumstance that the study of this science had to begin with
the special departments obscured the outlook. It cannot be
denied that the subdivisions of every science belong to that
science itself, and that thus the undeniably philosophical
character of general Encyclopedia eo ipxo asserts that all
special Encyclopedic study belongs to philosophy.

CHAI-. Ill] § 19. METHODOLOGY AND HODEGETICS 33

§ 19. Methodology and Hodegetics

The conception of Encyclopedia is allied to those of
Methodology and Hodegetics, which, though often taken for
each other, are sharply distinguishable. Hodegetics points
out the way to him to whom the way is unknown. The
letter-carrier, who knows every inch of his way, takes no
notice in his daily rounds of the sign-post at the cross-road.
And the task of Hodegetics extends no further than showing
the way in any department to whose study a man begins to
devote himself. It acquaints him with the general features
of the domain, tells him of the helps he is in need of in
order to make advances, and points out to him the direction
in which to go. Thus there belongs to it a short resume of
the primitive data of every department; a reference to what
composes its chief literature ; a brief review of its history ; a
statement of its requirements; and an indication of the
course of study to be pursued. Hodegetics teaches the
theory of study to him who is not yet capable of study
himself.

Methodology, on the other hand, is something very differ
ent. If Hodegetics serves the practical purpose of showing
the inexperienced traveller the way that has already been
discovered and cleared, Methodology, on the other hand, is
the theoretical science which gives an account of the reason
why this way was made thus and not otherwise, and decides
the question whether there is any reason to change the way
or its direction. This distinction is not always kept in
sight, but it is real. Hodegetics assumes that the way is
there, that it has been used, and points it out. Methodology,
on the other hand, is the science which decides how the wa}-
is to be laid, and approves or disapproves of the way that has
been laid. By "way" two things can here be understood.
Either the way along which runs our thinking in this
formal sense, or the waj7 along which our thoughts must
run in order to arrive at truth. In the first-mentioned
sense Methodology forms a subdivision of Logic. In the
last-mentioned sense it is an independent science which

34 § 19. METHODOLOGY AND HODEGETICS [Div. I

places the results of Logic into relation with the ramiiica-
tions of the several departments of science. He Avho de
sires to use a steamboat in the exploration of an unknown
drainage system in Africa faces two questions of method:
(1) how to convey his steamer thither and put it together
again ; and (2) how he will sail in the channels themselves
of this drainage system in order to reach the mountains from
which the stream descends. In scientific work our thinking
is that steamer which must carry us forward, and the course
of the drainage system indicates the method by which to
advance with our thoughts. Every science, indeed, is su«h
a dependent drainage system, which by the course of the
principal stream and its ramifications determines the way
along which knowledge of it is attained.

The idea of method, coinciding with that of /^ere/j^o/iou,
i.e. to trace, assumes that what we seek to discover by our
thinking was thought before it originated, and that our
effort is to think over again this original thought. When a
Prussian general studies the fortification system of France's
capital, he starts out from the assumption that the French
soldiers who have built this system of fortifications have
first thought out this system, and have afterwards built it
agreeably to this studied plan. His aim, therefore, is to
discover this plan, and this is only reached when he clearly
grasps the original thought of the French engineer before
he began to build. Only when he understands this original
plan in its relations, does he know the Paris fortifications.
Hence two methods are here involved. First, the method
by which the French engineer built the fortifications, and
secondly, the method of the Prussian general in discover
ing the fortifications' plan. The two are different. The
method of him who built the fortifications developed itself
from the principal thought he conceived in the drawing
of his plan. The method of the discoverer, on the other
hand, begins by viewing the forts and bulwarks of the
outer lines, from thence proceeds to the second and third
lines, and only from the relations of these several means
of defence does he penetrate to the plan of the fortifica-

CHAP. Ill] § 19. METHODOLOGY AND HODEGETICS 35

tions. But when the discoverer has once grasped this plan,
he changes his method of thought to that of the engineer,
and now takes up the proof of the sum, whether the location,
the form, and the armament of the several bulwarks in each
of the lines can be explained from the principal thought dis
covered.

Mutatis mutandis, this distinction between the method that
lies in the object of investigation and the method by which
we seek to obtain knowledge of this object, is applicable to
every scientific investigation. In every object we are to
grasp scientifically there must be a realized plan. Entirely
independently of our thought a thinking motive is active in
every object, and this motive impels the thought that lies
in this object to proceed in a fixed track. This is the method
that lies in the object itself, and with the knowledge of
which we are concerned. But inasmuch as we have yet to
penetrate from the circumference to the centre of this object,
we must seek a method first by which from what we see to
reach the hidden thought; and only when this is found does
our thinking move from the centre to the circumference and
think indeed the thought over again which has embodied
itself in the object to be investigated (/ierep^erai). In the
main, therefore, we go first from without to within, and
then from within back again to without, and both times we
are bound to travel the way given in the object itself.
Thus Methodology lays out for us the way along which to
enter in upon the inner existence of the object, as well as
the way along which we can understand the origin of this
object.

If, now, there were no obstacles in the way along which
from phenomena we reach the inner existence of the object,
this twofold task of Methodology would amount to doing
the same thing twice, with the only difference of moving
one time in an opposite direction from the other. Since,
however, in the approach to the object all sorts of difficul
ties present themselves in the way, which rise partly from
the observer and partly from the object to be observed, it is
the task of Methodology to indicate how we can overcome

30 §20. " WISSENSCHAFTSLEHRE " [Div. I

these difficulties; or, where they are insuperable, to show us
a side-road by which to reach our end. These difficulties,
which differ with the several objects, compel Methodology
to indicate a proper method for each of the several depart
ments of study, by which in each department the end can lie
reached. A general Methodology of sciences, therefore, is
not, enough. Methodology also must specialize itself, and
since the special method for each department and each sub
division of a department is wholly governed by the Encyclo
pedic relation of the parts with the whole, Encyclopedia
takes up into itself this special Methodology. It can easilv
be separated from this connection for the entire group of
departments, to serve as a department of general Method
ology; but since the question of method returns with each
subdivision of every department, a special Methodology
would have to include the entire Encyclopedia of the depart
ment, in order to be intelligible and to justify itself. In
one instance it would be an encyclopedic woof with a
methodological warp, and in the other instance Methodology
embroidered upon encyclopedic canvas. And, however real
the difference is between the two, this difference is too
insignificant to justify the trouble of a separate treatment.

Encyclopedia lias incorrectly been confused with aU<jemeine
Wissenschaftslehre. Fichte's title accounts for this. lie
himself describes the "Wissenschaftslehre" as a " Wissen
vom Wissen," and consequently not "von der Wisscnschaft."
"Allgemeine lehre vom Wissen" would have been the more
accurate name, and would have prevented misunderstanding.
"Knowledge'' and "science" are different tilings. Knowl
edge itself is a phenomenon in the human mind. Suppose
an entire population in a college town were massacred; there
would be no more knowledge in that city; for all knowledge
assumes a living, thinking person who knows. But if the
library had been spared, there would still be science to be
found in that massacred town, because those books contain
a whole mass of science. It is a very different thing.

CIIAI-. Ill] § 21. ORGANIC CHARACTER 37

therefore, whether I investigate the formal phenomenon of
knowledge as such, or scan science itself, as it exists organi
cally in all its ramifications, in its inner essence and articula
tion. Up to this point general Encyclopedia and " allgemeine
Wissenschaftslehre" have nothing in common. What Fichte
aimed at was the study of a phenomenon in our consciousness ;
what Encyclopedia aims at is an analysis and synthesis of
all sciences together, taken as one organic whole. This,
however, is no warrant for overlooking the relation which
unites the two and lies in the general conception of sci
ence that is fundamental to all special sciences. The body
is both something different and something more than its
members, and general Encyclopedia cannot be content with
the investigation of the separate members of the body of
science; it must also deal with the science which finds its
ramifications in the several special sciences. And when
ready to undertake this, it of necessity touches "allgemeine
Wissenschaftslehre," since this teaches " knowledge " in its
most universal form, and thus offers it the means by which
to define the character of science in its universal sense.

§ 21. Organic Character

If it is the task of Encyclopedia to furnish us knowledge
of science as an organic whole, a clear insight into the voca
tion of Encyclopedia demands a distinction between the
threefold organic nature of science. Botany, for instance,
is an organic science : (1) because it introduces into the
mirror of our thoughts a group of phenomena, which as
"the vegetable kingdom" exists organically; (2) because it
reflects this " vegetable kingdom " in a world of thoughts,
which in its turn also classifies organically; and (3) because
it does not introduce this "organic vegetable kingdom''
absolutely into this organic "world of thought," but in
organic connection with the life of man and animal. Thus
every science has to do with a phenomenon which exists in
itself organically and is organically related with other phe
nomena, while at the same time it must present the knowl
edge of this phenomenon in organic relation. If in our

38 § 21. ORGANIC CHARACTER [Div. I

thought we place a series of departments of science side
by side, there is again a threefold relation among them :
(1) since the objects with whose study these departments are
concerned (Botany, Zoology, etc.) are organically related in
life itself; (2) since the reflections of these objects do not
lie loosely side by side in our mind, but also in the world
of our thinking maintain an organic relation with each
other; and (3) since the activities which go out from these
objects upon life, are organically involved with one another.
If now there were no unity in this threefold organic relation,
we should have a threefold organic interpretation of science :
the first according to the relation of phenomena, the second
according to the relation of our thoughts, and the third
according to the relation of the several ends at which our
studies aim: or, more briefly still, we should have a phe
nomenal, a logical, and a practical interpretation. But this
is not so. The organic inter-relations of phenomena cannot
be grasped by us except as an outcome of an organic thought;
the organic relation of what is known in our thoughts can
not assert its rights until it agrees with the organic inter
relation of the phenomena; and the workings of this
knowledge upon our life stand in turn in relation both to
the inter-relations of the phenomena and to our knowledge
of those phenomena. History truly shows that the empiri
cal division of study (the phenomenal), with which all
science began, and the theoretical (the logical), which only
came later on, even as that of the university (in faculties),
which, a few particulars excepted, kept equal step with the
last-named, have amounted mainly in the end to a similar
division of the sciences.

But with reference to this point also Encyclopedia should
reach self-consciousness, and give itself a clear account of
the question what it understands by the organism of science.
In which case it is self-evident that it cannot allow itself
to be governed by the practical university division of the
faculties, but that it must rather examine critically and
correct them. And it lies equally near at hand that the
phenomenon by itself should not be permitted to influence

CHAP. Ill] §22. STILL INCOMPLETE 39

this division, since this is the very science that exhibits for
the first time the organic relation of the phenomena. Hence
Encyclopedia is not at liberty to deal with anything else
save the organic relation in which the parts of the whole of
our knowledge stand to each other. Science, in its absolute
sense, is the pure and complete reflection of the cosmos in the
human consciousness. As the parts of all actually exist
ing things lie in their relations, so must the parts of our
knowledge be related in our consciousness. As a country
is sketched on a chart, and we succeed ever better, as
Cartography advances, in sketching the country upon the
chart just as it is, so also must science convert the actually
existing cosmos into the logical form. The further science
advances, the easier it will be to reproduce the cosmos logi
cally, and to make all its parts to be clearly seen, together
with their several relations. And thus science divides itself,
because in proportion as the logical reproduction becomes
more accurate, it will image in a more organic way whatever
exists organically. And so does science begin to show itself
to us as an immeasurable field, in which all sorts of divisions
and subdivisions must be distinguished, and upon which the
mutual relations among these divisions and life is ever more
clearly exhibited. It is this organic relation with which
Encyclopedia has to deal. The field of our knowledge itself
in its organic inter-relations appears as the object to be inves
tigated by it.

§ 22. Still Incomplete

From the fact that the object is still incomplete flows
of necessity the incompleteness of Encyclopedia. In the
field of knowledge some ground is not yet broken, and
other parts are but imperfectly known. And yet Encyclo
pedia must not wait until its object is completely ready,
since science is in need of her assistance to get itself ready.
Hence it must overcome its false modesty and present itself
as it is, provided it but acknowledges its own imperfection
and makes no pretension of being already the Encyclopedia.
This involves the fact that every effort to furnish an Ency
clopedia must provisionally bear an individual character. If

40 § 22. STILL INCOMPLETE [Div. 1

Encyclopedia could wait till every controversy concerning
psychology, the way of knowledge, knowledge as such,
were ended, and all contrasts of view in every special
department had fallen away, an Encyclopedia might be
spoken of which would compel every thinker to agree.
Since, however, the field of knowledge is only known in
part, and the psychological sciences are still at variance with
each other, and since in every department the tendencies and
schools are still in the heat of combat, no writer of Encyclo
pedia can carry an argument save from the view-point which
he himself occupies and except he start out from the hypothe
ses upon which his general presentation is founded. There
is no harm in this, since every other science actually goes to
work in the same way, provided the view-point be properly
denned and the end be held in sight of obtaining the Ency
clopedia in its absolute form. Otherwise we may get an
Encyclopedic fantasy, but no contribution to the science of
Encyclopedia.

As long, however, as the logical sketch of the cosmos is
only a partial success, the organic relation traced by our
science will differ from the organic relation actually exist
ing in the cosmos ; wherefore Encyclopedia cannot deal with
the latter, but is bound to turn its attention to the first.
For the same reason it cannot justify its demand that the
university division of faculties shall reform itself at once in
obedience to its directions. This should certainly have to
be done if it were already Encyclopedia in the absolute sense,
but can not be demanded as long as it presents itself in a
form that is so imperfect and individually colored. In life
also lies a logic; and a logic lies equally in history; and
from these two has sprung the university division. If
Encyclopedia succeeds in effecting an influence upon life
itself, by which it will gradually be persuaded to regulate
its needs in a different way, the university division also will
thereby be indirectly influenced and corrected. But then
it will have stood the fire proof, and this will justify its
demands. If, on the other hand, an attempt were made to
influence directly by Encyclopedia the architect of the

CHAP. Ill] § 23. A THREEFOLD TASK 41

university and persuade him to cut the tie that binds the
university to life, it would result either in a pseudo-victory,
or the university would be turned into an abstract schema
tism. This was the mistake committed by the Netherlands
government, when, in 1878, at the suggestion of a one-sided
Encyclopedia, it robbed the theological faculty in the State
Universities of its historical character, and actually changed
it into a school of the science of religion. Since from its
very nature such a faculty is of no practical use to life, and
as such has no susceptibility to life, the " officiousness of
practical life " compelled a reaction against the aim of the
lawgiver, and the demands of this one-sided Encyclopedia
could be only apparently satisfied. It triumphed in the letter
of the scheme, but actually and practically the right of his
tory maintained the supremacy.

§ 23. A Threefold Task

With this reservation it is the task of Encyclopedia to
investigate the organism of science physiologically, ana
tomically and pathologically. Physiologically, in order to
enter into the nature of the life of every science and to trace
out and define the function of each member in the body
of sciences. Anatomically, in order to exhibit the exact
boundaries, divisions and relations of the several depart
ments and subdivisions of departments. And pathologically,
in order to bring to light the imperfection in the functioning
of every science, to show its lack of accuracy in the fixing of
the several relations, and to watch lest by hypertrophy or by
atrophy the proper proportions should be lost between the
development of the parts. Physiologically it clarifies the
sense that must inspire every man in his own department,
and rectifies the universally scientific sense. Anatomically
it brings order into every study and defines the boundaries
between the several studies. And pathologic-medically it
arrests every error, inaccurate connection and unnatural
development which combats the demand of the organic
life of a science and of each of its parts.

42 § 25. PURELY FORMAL [Div. I

§ 24. Method of Encyclopedia

The only practicable method of general Encyclopedia is,
that it should begin with the study of the historical develop
ment of the special sciences as they now are, and from this
should endeavor to form for itself an image of the develop
ment of science in general. Then it should examine this
historical phenomenon in order to understand the motive of
science as such and the special motive of its several parts, and
when it has thus fixed the idea of science and of its separate
parts, it should investigate historically the ways by which it
has progressed and the causes that have retarded or corrupted
it. Having in this way succeeded historically in discovering
the essential nature of its object, and the law of this object's
life, Encyclopedia should then proceed to investigate in the
same way each of the parts and to determine the organic rela
tion between them. And having in this way obtained a clear
representation of what the organism of science is, how its
functions operate and its parts cohere, with this result in
hand it should criticise the actual study of science. Its
point of departure must be historical. From what has been
historically discovered it must develop its idea. And with
this standard in hand it must prosecute its task both as critic
and physician.

§ 25. Purely Formal

This answers of itself the question to what extent En
cyclopedia is to concern itself with the material of each
science. It is not its task to furnish the body of science
itseli, but to point out the organic relations in this body, to
demonstrate them, and, in case of error, to reestablish their
proper location. Encyclopedia does not build the body of
science, neither does it reproduce it, but it begins by view
ing this body of science as given; and its task is merely
to show that it is a body, and how, as a body, it exists.
The Physiologist does not bring the blood into the body,
neither does he reproduce it, neither is it his calling
to investigate the whole quantity of blood. His culling
limits itself to the examination of blood as such, in its com-

CHAP. Ill] § 26. RESULT 43

position, origin, function and pathological deformation.
So far as there occur variations in this mass of blood, he is
bound to give himself an account of each one of these varia
tions ; but so far as the similar is concerned, he is interested
only in the disposition of one of these similar phenomena.
And this is the case with the Encyclopedist. He assumes
that the material of science is known. He does not create
nor reproduce it, neither does he add to it. But in this
multitudinous material he looks for the network that binds
the groups of similar parts to each other. His study extends
all the way of this network in its length and in its breadth,
but where this network disappears in common material his
investigation ends. Hence no division or subdivision in all
the material of science can be so small but that, as long as
it forms a separate group or member in the organism, he
must study it out. The active working only of the organism
upon the material is to be investigated by him, and not the
result obtained by this organic function. Thus in scientific
Encyclopedia that shall be worthy of the name, there will be
no room for the content itself of the separate sciences, and
not even for a brief summary of their results. The material
must remain entirely excluded, and only the formal part of
each science must be exhibited.

§ 26. Result

The result of our investigation is, that by Encyclopedia we
understand that philosophical science which in the entire
thesaurus of our scientific knowledge thus far acquired
exhibits and interprets the organic existence of science and
of its several parts. This conception of Encyclopedia, which
has been arrived at historically, dialectically and by means
of distinction from the correlated conceptions, excludes
therefore all realistic treatment of the material, and con
centrates Encyclopedia upon the formal side of science.
Realistic Encyclopedia is no Encyclopedia. Formal Ency
clopedia alone is entitled to bear this name in the scientific
sense. In this sense this acquired conception applies as
well to general Encyclopedia as to Encyclopedia of special

44 § 2«». RESULT [Div. I

departments, even though it lies in the nature of the case
that general Encyclopedia, because it is general, limits itself
to the principal ramifications of the organism of science, and
leaves the detailed ramifications of each group and its sub
divisions to the study of special Encyclopedia. General
Botany has nothing to do with the variations of the species
rosa into tree roses, monthly roses, provincial roses, or tea
roses.

CHAPTER IV

THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPEDIA

§ 27. Two Difficulties

And now, as we come to the conception of that special
Encyclopedia called Theological, the simple application to
Theology of what was obtained for the conception of General
Encyclopedia will not suffice. There would be no objection
to this in the cases of the Encyclopedias of the Juridical or
Philological sciences, but in the case of that of Theology
there is. The reason of this lies in the two circumstances:
first, that the scientific character of Theology is disputed by
many ; and, secondly, that they who do not dispute this are
disagreed as to what is to be understood by Theolog}r.
Dr. Riibiger, who has referred to this difficulty in his
Theologik oder Enc. der TheoL, Lpz. 1880, p. 94, incorrectly
inferred from it that for this reason, before its object can
be ready, the Encyclopedia of science must create for itself
from these several Theologies a general conception of The
ology, in order that it may make this general conception
of Theology the subject of scientific study. This is not
possible, since then Encyclopedia would have the right of
judgment between the several Theologies ; it should have
to furnish a complete demonstration for the sake of sup
porting this judgment ; and thus it would have to investi
gate independently all the formal and material questions
which are variously solved in Theology. In this way it
would have to treat the leading departments of Theology
fundamentally, and, dissolving into dogmatics, apologetics,
church history, etc., would cease to be Encyclopedia. It
would then bring forth its own object, instead of studying a
given object. And, worse yet, he who would write such an

46 § 28. THE FIRST DIFFICULTY [Div. I

Encyclopedia would not be able to escape from his own per
sonality nor from the view-point held by himself. His criti
cism, therefore, would amount to this : he who agreed with
him would be right, he who disagreed wrong, and the result
would be that lie would award the honorary title of general
Theology to that particular Theology to which he had com
mitted himself. A general Theology would then be exhib
ited, and, back of this beautiful exterior, the subjective
view-point, which was said to be avoided, would govern the
entire exposition.

§ 28. The First Difficulty

If both difficulties that here present themselves are
squarely looked in the face, it must at once be granted
that before Theological Encyclopedia can devote itself to
its real task, it must vindicate the scientific character of
Theology. This is not the creation of an object of its own,
but the simple demonstration of the fact that Theology is a
proper object of Encyclopedic investigation. If all Ency
clopedia is the investigation of the whole or of a part of the
organism of science, no Encyclopedia of Theology can be
suggested as long as it is still uncertain whether Theology
forms a part of this organism. Since, now, the doubt con
cerning the scientific character of Theology does not spring
from the still imperfect development of this science, but
finds its origin in the peculiar character it bears in distinc
tion from all other sciences, it is the duty of the writer of
an Encyclopedia of this science to show upon what grounds
he disputes this doubt as to its right of existence. This
demonstration must be given in two ways. First, by such
definitions of the conception " science," and of the conception
" Theology," that it will be evident that the second is sub
ordinate to the first. And, secondly, by showing that the
parts of Theology are mutually related organically, and that,
taken as a whole, it stands in organic relation to the rest of
the organism of science. This treatise also will venture the
effort to furnish this double proof.

The first only of these two proofs is demanded by the

CHAP. IV] § 29. THE SECOND DIFFICULTY 47

peculiar character of Theology. The second proof that the
parts of a special science mutually cohere organically, and
together are related equally organically to the whole of
science, every special Encyclopedia of whatever science
undertakes to show. But the first proof that the conception
of this special science is subordinate to the conception of
general science does not occur in other special Encyclo
pedias, because with the other sciences this subordination
is evident of itself and is by no one denied.

§ 29. The Second Difficulty

The second difficulty should be considered somewhat more
at length. It presents itself in the fact that all sorts of
Theologies offer themselves as the object of investigation to
the writer of an Encyclopedic Theology. There is a Greek
Theology, and a Romish Theology, a Lutheran, Reformed,
and a Modern Theology, a " Vermittelungstheologie," and,
in an individual sense, we even hear a Schleiermachian, a
Ritschlian, etc., Theology spoken of. Order, therefore, is
to be introduced into this chaos. Simply to make a choice
from among this number would be unscientific. Where
choice is made its necessity must be shown. Even the
Romish theologian, who looks upon every other Theology
save that of his own church as the exposition of error, can
not escape from the duty of scientific proof of this position.
If it involved merely a difference between several " schools,"
it might be proper to select out of these several interpreta
tions what is common to them all, and thus to conclude the
existence of a general Theology. But this is not so. The
difference here springs not from a difference of method in the
investigation of one and the same object, but from a difference
concerning the question of what the object of Theology is.
One Theology investigates a different object from another.
One Theology denies the very existence of the object which
another Theology investigates. Even if we could agree
upon the methods of investigation it would be of no use, for
though the merits of your method were recognized, the
objection would still hold good that you apply your method

48 §29. THE SECOND DIFFICULTY [Div. I

to a pseudo-object, which has no existence outside of your
imagination. This springs from the fact that the object of
Theology lies closely interwoven with our subjectivity, and is
therefore incapable of being absolutely objectified. A blind
man is no more able to furnish a scientific study of the phe
nomenon of color, or a deaf person to develop a theory of
music, than a scholar whose organ for the world of the
divine has become inactive or defective is capable of furnish
ing a theological study, simply because he has none other
than a hearsay knowledge of the object Theology investi
gates. Hence no escape is here possible from the refraction
of subjectivity. This should the more seriously be taken into
our account because this refraction springs not merely from
the circumference of our subjective existence, but is organi
cally related to the deepest root of our life and to the very
foundation of our consciousness. Whether this impossibility
of completely objectifying the object of Theology does or does
not destroy the scientific character of Theology can only later
on be investigated ; here we do not deal with the object of
Theology but with Theology itself as object of Theological
Encyclopedia ; and of this it is evident that Theology itself
cannot be presented as an absolute and constant object, be
cause its own object cannot escape from the refraction of
our subjectivity. If a scientific investigator, and in casu the
writer of an Encyclopedia, could investigate his object with
out himself believing in the existence of his object, it might
be possible for the Encyclopedist at least to keep himself
outside of this difference. But this is out of the question.
Faith in the existence of the object to be investigated is the
conditio sine qua non of all scientific investigation. No theo
logical Encyclopedist is conceivable except one to whom
Theology has existence, neither can Theology have existence
to him unless it also has an object in whose reality he equally
believes. As an actual fact it is seen that all wrriters of
Theological Encyclopedias take for their object of investiga
tion that which they conceive to be Theology, and also that
every theologian assumes something as object of Theology
which to him has real existence. Thus one link locks into

CHAP. IV] § 30. NO ONE-SIDEDNESS 49

the other. To be able to write an Encyclopedia of Theology
it must be fixed beforehand what you conceive to be Theol
ogy ; and in order to know which of the several theologies
that present themselves shall be your Theology, it must first
be determined what the object is which you give Theology to
investigate. It is evident therefore that the theological En
cyclopedist cannot possibly furnish anything but an Ency
clopedia of his Theology. For though this may be denied,
and it be made to appear that a Theological Encyclopedia
in the general sense is given, the outcome always shows
that in reality the writer claims universal validity for his
Theology.

§ 30. No One-sidedness

This is a self-deception which nevertheless contains a germ
of truth. If in order to be a theologian one must believe in
the existence of the object of his Theology, the claim is of
itself implied that what he takes to be valid must also be
valid to every one else. This is no presumption, but only
the immediate result of the firmness of conviction which is
the motive for his scientific investigation. All scepticism
causes science to wither. But from this there flows an
obligation. Just this: to point out in the other theologies
what is untenable and inconsequent, to appreciate what is
relatively true, and to a certain extent to show the necessity
of their existence. No one Theology can claim to be all-sided
and completely developed. This is not possible, because
every Theology has to deal with an object that is not suscep
tible to an abstract intellectual treatment, and which can
therefore only be known in connection with its historical
development in life. Aberrations very certainly occur which
furnish only negative or reactionary results for the knowl
edge of the object of Theology, and these can only be
refuted. But there are also elements in this object of The
ology, which do not find an equally good soil for their devel
opment with every individual, with every nation, or in every
age. Every theologian, therefore, knows that neither he
himself, nor the stream of history in which he moves, are

50 § 31. VIEW-POINT HERE TAKEN [Div. I

able to make an all-sided and a complete exhibition of the
object of his investigation.

Thus to him also there are theologies which are not simply
aberrations but merely one-sided developments, whose rela
tive validity he appreciates and with whose results lie
enriches himself. But even that which is relatively true
and complementary in other theologies he is not allowed to
leave standing loosely by the side of his own theology, but
is bound to include it organically in his own theology, being
ever deeply convinced of the fact that in spite of their
relative right and complementary value these other theologies
interpret the essence of Theology one-sidedly and understand
it wrongly. Thus the aim is always to show in a scientific
way that the Theology that has the love of his heart is
entitled to the love of all hearts, wherefore he corrects and
enriches his own Theology with whatever acquisitions he can
borrow from the other theologies in order thereby to vindi
cate the more effectively the universal validity of his object
of Theology. No reduction therefore is practised of the
several theologies to a common level, for the mere sake of
investigating encyclopedically what is common to them all ;
but on the contrary the start is taken from one's own con
viction, with an open eye to one's own imperfections so as
sincerely to appreciate the labors and efforts of others, and
to be bent upon the assimilation of their results.

§ 31. View-point here taken

This attempt to write a Theological Encyclopedia, too,
purposely avoids therefore every appearance of neutrality,
which is after all bound to be dishonest at heart ; and makes
no secret of what will appear from every page, that the Re
formed Theology is here accepted as the Theology, in its very
purest form. By this we do not mean to imply that the Re
formed theologians are to us the best theologians, but we
merely state, that Reformed Theology, 1, has interpreted the
object of Theology most accurately, and 2, has shown the way
most clearly by which to reach knowledge of this object. Let
no • one take this statement to intend the least infringement

CHAP. IV] § 31. VIEW-POINT HERE TAKEN 51

upon the respect which the writer of this Encyclopedia is also
compelled to pay to the gigantic labors of Lutheran, Romish,
and other theologians. His declaration but intends to make
it clearly known, that he himself cannot stand indifferently
to his personal faith, and to his consequent confession con
cerning the object of Theology, and therefore does not hesitate
to state it as his conviction that the Reformed Theology with
respect to this has grasped the truth most firmly.

Does this put a confessional stamp upon this Encyclo
pedia ? By no means; since " confessional " and " scientific"
are heterogeneous conceptions. " Confessional " is the name
that belongs to the several streams in the historical life of
the Church, and is no distinguishing mark for your manner
of scientific treatment of the theological material. The
difference lies elsewhere. The fact is that until the middle
of the last century Theology received its impulse from the
Church, in consequence of which Theology divided itself into
groups which maintained their relation to the groupings of
the churches according to their confessions. Since that
time, however, Theology has not allowed itself to be gov
erned by the life of the Church, but by the mighty develop
ment of philosophy, and consequently we scarcely speak in
our days of a Lutheran, Romish, or Reformed Theology, but of
a rationalistic, a mediating, and an orthodox Theology. With
this custom this Encyclopedia does not sympathize, but takes
it as a matter of course that even as the medical, juridical,
and philological sciences, the theological science also is
bound to its object such as this shows itself in its own circle
in life; i.e. in casu the Church. Every other grouping of
theological schools rests upon a philosophical abstraction
which really ranks Theology under philosophy or under
history and ethnology, and in that way destroys it as an
independent science. Hence our aim is to seek the object
of Theology again in its native soil ; to examine no piece
of polished cedar in the wall, but the tree itself on Lebanon ;
and in this way also to study the object of Theology in the
history of the Church.

But even thus the choice of the Reformed stamp is not

52 §32. COMPASS OF ITS TASK [I)iv. I

yet scientifically justified. The Encyclopedia obtains its
right to this only when it shows that the historical distinc
tion between Romish, Reformed, etc., Theology flows of
necessity from the very essence of Theology, and that the
current distinctions of our times are foreign to its essence
and are attached to it from without. And thus every
Encyclopedical writer is entitled and obliged in his Ency
clopedia to honor as Theology whatever is Theology to him
self, but this should be done in such a way that he shows
how with this interpretation the organic character of this
science is best exhibited.

§ 32. Compass of its Task

On this condition it is the task of Theological Encyclo
pedia : 1, to vindicate the scientific character of Theology:
2, to explain the relation between Theological science and
the other sciences ; 3, in its own choice of the object of
Theology to exhibit the error in the choice of others, and to
appreciate what is right in the efforts of others and to appro
priate it ; and then, 4, to do for Theology what it is the
task of general Encyclopedia to do for science in general.

With reference to the first point, Dr. Riibiger goes too far
when (p. 95) he says : " The only problem of Theological En
cyclopedia is to build up Theology as a science." It certainly
has more to do than this. It can even be said that only
after this task has been performed does its real Encyclopedic
task begin. If Encyclopedia is truly the science of science,
everything that is done to place the science as object before
oneself is only preparatory work. Only when Theology
lies before you as a science does your real Encyclopedic
study begin. His proposition therefore to give the name
of " Theologik " to Theological Encyclopedia will not do.
"Theologik" isolates Theology from the organism of the
sciences, and the very point in hand is to grasp the science
of Theology as an organic member of the body of sciences.
This is expressed by the word Encyclopedia alone, for which
reason the name of Theological Encyclopedia can under no
consideration be abandoned. From this follows also th.-

CHAP. IV] § 33. ITS RELATION TO METHODOLOGY 53

second point already indicated. Theological Encyclopedia
must insert Theology organically into the body of sciences ;
which duty has too largely been neglected not only in the
special Encyclopedias of Theology, but in those of almost all
the special sciences. The third point follows of itself from
§ 31, and calls for no further explanation. And as regards
the fourth, this flows directly from the subordination of the
conception of Theological Encyclopedia to that of general
Encj^clopedia.

§ 33. Its Relation to Methodology

This task includes of itself the scientific description of the
method of Theology, and of its parts, and its insertion into
organic relation with its object. No general Methodology is
necessary, for this may be assumed to be known. But it must
show the paths of knowledge, mapped out by general Meth
odology, which Theology is to travel in order to reach her end.
Then it must show what modifications are introduced into
this general method by the peculiar character of Theology.
And finally, what nearer method flows from this for the sub
divisions of Theology. There is no cause for a separate
treatment of Theological Methodology. He who places it as
a separate study outside of his Encyclopedia, must invoke its
help in that Encyclopedia ; neither can he furnish his Meth
odology without repeating the larger part of the content
of his Encyclopedia. Just because of the strongly subjec
tive character which is inseparable from all Theology, it is
dangerous to separate the method too widely from the object,
neither can the object be sufficiently explained without deal
ing at the same time with the method. Hence it should be
preferred to treat the method of Theology taken as a whole
in the general volume of the Encyclopedia, and then, so far
as this is necessary with each subdivision, the modifications
which this method undergoes for the sake of this subdivision.

54 § 35. RESULT [Uiv. I

§ 34. Its Aim

The aim of Theological Encyclopedia is in itself purely
scientific. Since Theology belongs to the organism of sci
ence, the Encyclopedic impulse itself compels the investi
gation of this part also of the great organism of science, in
order that we may know it in its organic coherence and rela
tion. This is its philosophical aim. But its aim is equally
strong to bring Theology itself to self-consciousness. No
more than any other science did Theology begin with know
ing what it wanted. Practical interests, necessity and un
conscious impulse brought it to its development. But with
this it cannot remain satisfied. For its own honor's sake,
Theology also must advance with steady steps to know itself,
and to give itself an account of its nature and its calling.
This is the more necessary since in our times Theology as a
whole is no longer studied l>y any one, and since the several
theologians choose for themselves but a part of the great task.
Thus every sense of relation is lost, and a writer in one
department infringes continually upon the rights of the
others, unless the sense of the general task of Theology
becomes and remains quickened. In the third place, the aim
of Encyclopedia of Theology is defensive or apologetic.
Much presents itself as Theology with the assumption of the
right to translate real Theology into that which is no Theol
ogy. The conflict which arises from this may not be left to
chance, but must be decided scientifically, and this cannot
take place until Theology fixes its scientific standard. And
finally its aim in the fourth place is, for the sake of non-
theologians, who must nevertheless deal with Theology, to
declare, in scientifically connected terms, what Theology is.

§ 35. Jietult

As the result of the above it is evident that the conception
of Theological Encyclopedia consists in the scientific investii/a-
iion of the organic nature atnl relations of Theology in itself
and <7.s- an integral part of the organism <>f science. As such
it forms a subdivision of general Encyclopedia, and with it

CHAP. IV] § 35. RESULT 55

belongs to the science of philosophy. As such it is formal,
not in the sense that it must furnish a mere scheme of de
partments and of names, but in the sense that it is not
allowed to become material, as if it were its duty to collect
the theological content in a manual. It may enter into the
material only in so far as it is necessary for the sake of ex
hibiting the formal nature and relations of Theology. Dis
tinguished from Hodegetics and Historia litteraria, it is not
called upon to furnish a manual for beginners ; though noth
ing forbids the addition to it of a brief historia litteraria, pro
vided that this is not presented as a part of the Encyclopedia
itself.

DIVISION II
THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE

§ 36. Introduction

It is the task of Theological Encyclopedia to investigate
the nature of Theology for the stated purposes of under
standing it, of passing criticism upon its progress, and of
assisting its healthful development. It is not sufficient that
it answer the question, What Theology is ; it must also
critically examine the studies that have thus far been be
stowed upon Theology, and mark out the course henceforth
to be pursued. This investigation would bear no scientific
character, and consequently would not be Encyclopedic, if
Theology were merely a private pursuit of individuals.
Now, however, it is both, because Theology presents an
interest that engages the human mind as such. We face
a phenomenon that extends across the ages, and has engaged
many persons, and therefore cannot be the outcome of a
whim or notion, nor yet of an agreement or common contract,
but is governed by a motive of its own, which has worked
upon these persons in all ages. This motive cannot lie
elsewhere than in the human mind; and if a certain regu
larity, order and perceptible development are clearly mani
fest in these theological studies, as prosecuted in whatever
period and by whatever persons, it follows that this motive,
by which the human mind is impelled to theological investi
gation, not only formally demands such an investigation, but
is bound to govern the content and the tendency of these
studies. Distinction therefore must be made between the
theological study of individual theologians and the impulse

L)iv. II] § 36. INTRODUCTION 57

of Theology which they obeyed consciously or unconsciously,
entirely or in part. This theological impulse is the general
phenomenon, which is certainly exhibited in special theologi
cal studies, but never exhausts itself in them. This general
phenomenon lies behind and above its temporal and individ
ual revelations. It is not the excogitation of an individual
man, but men have found it in the human mind. Neither
was it found as an indifferent something, but as something
definite in essence and tendency ; in virtue of which it can
and must be included in the investigation of science as
a whole. This very distinction, however, between the
theological motive in general and the effect of this motive
upon the individual theologian, presents both the danger and
the probability that the study of Theology will encounter
influences that are antagonistic to this motive ; which diver
gence will of necessity cause it to become bastardized and
the mutual relation of these studies to suffer loss. With this
motive itself, therefore, the impulse of criticism is given, and
the scientific investigation into the essence of Theology
would never be finished, if it did not inquire as to how far
this motive had been allowed to exert itself, and in what
way it is to continue its task.

Technically, therefore, encyclopedical investigation would
be prosecuted most accurately if the essence of Theology
could first be determined thetically ; if, after that, empirical
Theology could be compared with this ; and if the means could
be indicated therapeutically by which to make and maintain
the healthful development of Theology. But to follow out
this scheme would be unwise for three reasons. In the first
place, the thetic result cannot be found except in consulta
tion with empiricism, and this calls in the aid of the devia
tions as antitheses for the definition of the conception. In
the second place, with Theology in general, and afterwards
with each of its parts, a continuous repetition of consonant
criticism could not be avoided. And in the third place, the
thetical, critical and therapeutical or dietetical treatment of
each department would be torn altogether out of relation
and come in order at three entirely different places. This

58 § 36. INTRODUCTION [Div. II

necessitates the sacrifice of technical accuracy to the de
mands of a practical treatment ; and the arrangement of the
division of the investigation in the order of importance.
Hence in this Encyclopedia also the real investigation divides
itself into two parts, the first of which deals with Theology
as such, while the second reviews her subdivisions. And
the end of each aim is : to understand Theology as such, and
her parts, organically. Encyclopedia may not rest until it
has grasped Theology as an organic part of general science,
and has examined the departments of exegesis, church history,
etc., as organic parts of the science of Theology.

If all investigators were fully agreed among themselves as
to the nature and the conception of science, we could at once
start out from this fixed datum and indicate what place
Theology occupies in the sphere of science, and press the
claims she ought to satisfy. But this is not the case. Not
only is the conception of science very uncertain, but the very
relation sustained by the several thinkers to Theology and
its object exercises frequently a preponderating influence
upon the definition of the conception of science. There can
be no clearness, therefore, in an encyclopedical exposition
until it is definitely stated what the writer understands by
science and by its prosecution in general. And for this
reason this investigation into the nature of Theology begins
with a summary treatment of science and its prosecution.
The organism of science itself must be clearly outlined,
before the place which Theology occupies in it can be deter
mined.

CHAPTER I

THE CONCEPTION OF SCIENCE

§ 37. Etymology and Accepted Use of the Word

The plan of a Theological Encyclopedia does not admit an
exposition of the principles of the " doctrine of science " ;
but neither will it do to describe the nature of Theology as
a science, until the conception of " science " is determined.
In view of the very prevalent confusion with reference to
this conception, the writer of a Theological Encyclopedia
should clearly define what he understands by it.

Etymologically it is fairly certain that to know1 as an intel
lectual conception is derived from the sensual conception to
see; and more particularly from seeing something one was
looking for in the sense of finding. This may the more fully
be emphasized, because not only the Indo-Germanic but also
the Semitic family of languages point to this origin of the
conception to knotv. The Sanscrit has vid, to know ; vindami,
to find; the Greek ptS in eiSov, to see, alongside of ol&a, to
know ; the Latin vid-ere, to see, alongside of viso, to visit ;
the Gothic vait, to know, alongside of vit-an, to keep what
one has found ; and the Old Slavic vid-e-ti, to see, alongside
of ved-e-ti, to know. This development of the conception
runs almost parallel with that of the Semitic root vada' (37*11)
which, just as in the so-called Pelasgic vid stands alongside
of id, shows the double form of vada and iada (9T). This
vada or iada also is the common word for to know, but with
the root-meaning of to see. In 1 Sam. x. 11 and in Job xxviii.

1 [That is, the Dutch weten, which runs back to a base WIT, = originally
'to see."1 The English representatives of the root are such as 'wit,' 'wot,'
'witness'; and also such words as 'wise,' 'guise,' ' vision,' ' visible,' 'idea,'
etc.]

60 § o7. ETYMOLOGY AND [Div. II

lo the LXX translated it by the word ISeiv, to see. Along
side of SEltf (to hear) as perception through the ear, stands
2T (to see) as perception through the eye. D'lTytf HK"! in
Gen. xxxvii. 14 and Dl^tZJ ST in Esther ii. 11 are in mean-

T ~ T

ing one. The entirely different meaning attributed to 3?T by
Fiirst and others in Ezek. xxxviii. 14, as if the idea to separate,
split or disband were prominent, might yet originally have
coincided with the meaning of the verb to see, even as cernere
in its connection with icpiveiv. But if on this ground the con
nection between the conceptions to know and to see can scarcely
be denied, the verb to know cannot be said to be of the same
origin with all the forms of the idea to see. To see is a finely
differentiated conception. 'Opav, /3\€7reiv, o-fyopai, $eao/icu,
SeSoptcevai, -spicere, ovceTr- (in ovceTrTeer&u), etc., all express a
certain perception through the eye, but in different ways. An
object can present itself to us in such a way, that we perceive
it and thus see it, while our eye did not look for it. At
another time our eyes may look without desiring to discover
any one object. And lastly there is a looking, by which we
employ our powers of vision in seeking and investigating a
definite object, until we find and understand it. The con
ception of the verb to see, included in the root of the verb to
know, is definitely this last kind of seeing : premeditatively
to look for something, in order to find it. Herein lies of
itself the transition to the conceptions of investigation and
of trying to know, as result of which we have the seeing or
knowing. Revelation in holy Scripture throws further light
upon this relation by placing before us the yvucris as a lower
form of knowing, and as a /SXeVecr^at but only in part, in a
glass darkly, and over against this making the completed
7^&)o-f? to appear as a OeaaOai, a seeing close at hand, in full
reality, TrpoawTrov Trpo? Trpoawn-ov (1 Cor. xiii. 8-12).

If in the second place we consult the accepted use of the
word, we find the conceptions of knowing and understanding
separated from each other by a clearly perceptible boundary.
The accepted use of the word to knoiv lias both a general
and a limited sense. In the question, Do you know that the
mail-boat has suffered shipwreck ? is only meant, Have you

CHAP. I] ACCEPTED USE OF THE WORD 61

heard it ? Is this fact taken up into your consciousness ? If,
on the other hand, I say, Do you know that it is so ? then to
know is taken in a stricter sense, and means : Can you vouch
for it ? In both cases, however, there lies in this knowing not
so much the thought of an analysis of the content of an affair or
fact, as the thought of the existence of it ; viz. the antithesis
between its being and not being. Understanding, on the other
hand, does not refer to the being or not being, but assumes it
as a fact, and analyzes it for the sake of introducing it into
the world of our conceptions. To have knowledge of a
thing is almost synonymous with having certainty of it,
which of itself implies that such a presentation of the matter
or fact has been obtained that it can be taken up into our
consciousness. And further it is knowledge only when be
sides this presentation in my consciousness I also have the
sense that this representation corresponds to existing reality ;
which is entirely different from understanding, by which I
investigate this representation, in order to comprehend it
in its nature and necessity.

If we compare this with the common acceptation of the
word science, we encounter the apparent contradiction that
what is commonly called " science " seems to lie almost
exclusively in the domain of the understanding, and that
when the question is asked whether there is a reality cor
responding to a certain representation, it is met with the
answer, It is not clear (non liquef) ; even with a fundamental
non liquet, when the general relation of the phenomena to
the noumena is in order. This, however, is only in appear
ance. For many centuries the conception of science and its
corresponding forms in other languages was entirely free
from sceptical infusion, and carried no other impression
than of studies which were able to impart real knowledge
of all sorts of things, so that by it one knew what before
one did not know. The " language-making people " ad
hered, therefore, strenuously to the root-meaning of the
verbs to see and to know, even in the derived conception of
"science," and marked this more clearly still by the an
tithesis between "science" and "learning." The law of

62 § 37. ETYMOLOGY AND [I JIT. II

language requires that " science " shall make us know what
there is, that it is there, and how it is there. That the men
of " science " themselves have adopted this name, and have
preferred to drop all other names, especially that of Philoso
phy, only shows that they were not so much impelled by the
desire to investigate, as by the desire to know for them
selves and to make real knowledge possible for others;
and that indeed a knowledge so clear and transparent
that the scaffoldings, which at first were indispensable, can
at last be entirely removed, and the figure be unveiled and
seen. However keenly it may be felt that under present
conditions this result, in its highest significance, lies beyond
our reach, the ideal should not be abandoned, least of all in
common parlance. There is in us a thirst after a knowledge
of things which shall be the outcome of immediate sight,
even if this sight takes place without the bodily eye. And
since we are denied this satisfaction in our present dispensa
tion, God's word opens the outlook before us in which this
immediate seeing of the heart of things, this 6eaa0ai, this see
ing of face to face, shall be the characteristic of our knowl
edge in another sphere of reality. The accepted use of the
word which holds on to the conception of sight in knowledge
agrees entirely with Revelation, which points us to a science
that shall consist in siyht.

The objection that, when interpreted in relation to its
etymology and accepted use of the word, "science" is syn
onymous with " truth," l stands no test. In the first place,
the root of this word, ver-, which also occurs in ver-um, in
ver-bum, in word, in pepelv, etc., does not point to what is
seen or known, but to what is spoken. This derivation dis
courages, at the same time, the growing habit of relating
truth to a condition or to a moral disposition, and of speak
ing of a thing or of a person as "being real." Truth, more
over, is always an antithetical conception, which science
never is. The thirst after knowledge has its rise in our
desire to reflect in our consciousness everything that exists,
while the thirst after truth originates from the desire to
1 [That i.s • H-'i>irh <-('</.' the Dutch word for ' truth.' — 7YansZfl£or.]

CHAP. I] ACCEPTED USE OF THE WORD 63

banish from our consciousness whatever represents existing
things as other than they are. In a pregnant sense, as will
be shown more at length in another place, truth stands over
against falsehood. Even when truth is sought in order to
avoid or to combat an unintentional mistake, or an illusion
arisen in good faith or an inaccuracy which is the result of
an insufficient investigation, there always is an antithesis
which belongs to the nature of this conception. If there
were no falsehood conceivable, or mistake, illusion or inaccu
racy, there would be no thirst after truth. The facts that
science seeks after truth, and that truth is of supremest
importance to it, do not state its fundamental thought, —
which is and always will be, the knowledge of what is, that
it is, and how it is. And this effort assumes the form of
"seeking after truth" only as far as, for the sake of dis
covering what is, it has to dismiss all sorts of false repre
sentations. In such a state of things as is pictured by Reve
lation in the realm of glory, the desire to see and to know is
equally active ; there, of course, through immediate percep
tion ; while the antithesis between falsehood, mistake, illusion,
inaccuracy and truth shall fall entirely away.

§ 38. Subject and Object

In the conception of science the root-idea of to know must
be sharply maintained. And the question arises: Who is
the subject of this knowledge, and what is the object ? Each
of us knows innumerable things which lie entirely outside
of the realm of science. You know where you live and who
your neighbors are. You know the names of your children
and the persons in your employ. You know how much
money you spend in a week. All this, however, as such, is
no part of what science knows or teaches. Science is not
the sum-total of what A knows, neither is it the aggregate
of what A, B and C know. The subject of science cannot
be this man or that, but must be rnan&mcZ at large, or, if
you please, the human consciousness. And the content of
knowledge already known by this human consciousness is
so immeasurably great, that the most learned and the most

1)4 § :J8. SUBJECT AND OBJECT [Div. II

richly endowed mind can never know but a very small part
of it. Consequently you cannot attain unto a conception of
"science'' in the higher sense, until you take humanity as
an organic whole. Science does not operate atomistically,
as if the grand aggregate of individuals commissioned a few
persons to satisfy this general thirst after knowledge, and as
if these commissioners went to work after a mutually agreed-
upon plan. No, science works organically, i.e. in the sense
that the thirst for knowledge lies in human nature ; that
within certain bounds human nature can obtain knowledge ;
that the impulse to devote oneself to this task, together with
the gifts which enable one to work at it, become apparent
of themselves ; and that in the realm of intellectual pursuits
these coryphaei of our race, without perceiving it and almost
unconsciously, go to work according to a plan by which hu
manity at large advances.

Hence there is no working here of the will of an indi
vidual, and it is equally improbable that chance should
produce such an organically inter-related result. A higher
factor must here be at play, which, for all time and among
all peoples, maintains the unity of our race in the interests of
the life of our human consciousness ; which impels people to
obtain knowledge ; which endows us with the faculties to
know ; which superintends this entire work ; and as far as
the results of this labor lead to knowledge builds them up
into one whole after a hidden plan. If impersonation were
in order, this higher factor, this animating and illumining
power, itself might be called "Science." Or if this is
called poetry which properly belongs to pagan practice
only, we may understand by "science" thus far acquired,
that measure of light which has arisen in the darkness of
the human consciousness by reason of the inworking of this
higher power, — this light, of course, being interpreted not
only as a result, but as possessed of the virtue of all light,
viz. to rule and to ignite new light. With this interpreta
tion only everything accidental and individual falls away,
and science as such obtains a necessary and universal char
acter. Taken in that sense, science makes the "mind of

CIIAI-. I] § 38. SUBJECT AND OBJECT 65

man " to have knowledge; and every one receives a share of
it according to the measure of his disposition and station in
life. Moreover, it is only with this interpretation that
science obtains its divine consecration, because that higher
factor, which was seen to be the active agent in science,
cannot be conceived otherwise than self-conscious ; for there
can be no science for the human consciousness as such with
out a God to impel man to pursue science, to give it, and
to maintain its organic relation. With the human individ
uals, therefore, you do not advance a step, and even if the
G-emeingeist of our human nature should be personified it
would not do, since this higher factor must be self-conscious,
and this Gemeingeist is brought to self-consciousness by sci
ence alone. This higher factor, who is to lead our human
consciousness up to science, must himself know what he will
have us know.

If the subject of science, i.e. the subject that wants to know
and that acquires knowledge, lies in the consciousness of
humanity, the object of science must be all existing things, as
far as they have discovered their existence to our human con
sciousness, and will hereafter discover it or leave it to be in
ferred. This unit divides itself at once into three parts, as
not only what lies outside of the thinking subject, but also the
subject itself, and the consciousness of this subject, become
the object of scientific investigation. This object, as such,
could never constitute the material of science for man, if it
existed purely atomistically, or if it could only be atomis-
tically known. It is known that Peruvian bark reacts
against a feverish excitement in the blood, and it is also
known that catarrh may occasion this feverish excitement.
But as long as these particulars of cold, fever, and Peruvian
bark lie atomistically side by side, I may know them indeed,
but I have no science yet of these data. For the idea of
science implies, that from the manifold things I know a
connected knowledge is born, which would not be possible if
there were no relation among the several parts of the
object. The necessity of organic inter-relations, which was

66 § 38. SUBJECT AND OBJECT [Div. II

found to be indispensable in the subject, repeats itself in
the object. The apparently accidental discovery or inven
tion is as a rule much more important to atomistic knowl
edge than scientific investigation. But as long as something
is merely discovered, it is taken up into our knowledge but
not into our science. Only when the inference and the sub
sequent insight that the parts of the object are organically
related prove themselves correct, is that distinction born
between the special and the general which learns to recognize
in the general the uniting factor of the special. In this way
we arrive at the knowledge that there is order in the object,
and it is by this entering into this order and into this cos-
mical character of the object that science celebrates her
triumphs.

This is the more necessary because the subject of science
is not a given individual in a given period of time, but
thinking man in the course of centuries. If this organic
relation were wanting in the object, thinking man in one
age and land would have an entirely different object before
him than in a following century and in another country.
The object would lack all constancy of character. It would
not be the same object, even though in varying forms, but
each time it would be another group of objects without
connection with the formerly considered group. Former
knowledge would stand in no relation to our own, and the
conception of science as a connected and as an ever-self-
developing phenomenon in our human life would fall away.

If to make science possible, the organic connection is in
dispensable between the parts of the object, as far as they
have been observed in different countries and at different
times, the same applies to the several parts of the object
when they are classified according to the difference of their
content. If the observation of the starry heavens, of min
erals, of plants and animals, of man and everything that
belongs in and to him, leads merely to the discovery of
entirely different objects, which as in so many compartments
are shut off from one another and stand outside of all rela
tion to each other, a series of sciences is possible, but no

CHAP. I] § 39. RELATION BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 67

science, while the unity of these sciences could only lie in
the observing subject or in the formal unity of the manner
of observation. But our impulse after science aims higher.
As long as there is a Chinese wall between one realm of the
object and the other, that wall allows us no rest. We want
it away, in order that we may know the natural boundaries
across which to step from one realm into the other. Dar
winism owes its uncommon success more to this impulse of
science than to the merits of its results. Hence our ideal of
science will in the end prove an illusion, unless the object
is grasped as existing organically.

§ 39. Organic Relation between Subject and Object

Even yet enough has not been said. It is not sufficient
that the subject of science, i.e. the human consciousness,
lives organically in thinking individuals, and that the
object, about which thinking man wants to know every
thing he can, exists organically in its parts ; but there must
also be an organic relation between this subject and this
object. This follows already from what was said above,
viz. that the subject itself, as well as the thinking of the
subject, become objects of science. If there were no organic
relation between everything that exists outside of us and
ourselves, our consciousness included, the relation in the
object would be wanting. But this organic relation be
tween our person and the object of science is much more
necessary, in order to render the science of the object possible
for us.

We have purposely said that there must be an organic
relation between the object and our person. The relation
between the object and our thinking would not be sufficient,
since the thinking cannot be taken apart from the thinking
subject. Even when thinking itself is made the object of
investigation, and generalization is made, it is separated
from the individual subject, but it remains bound to the
general subject of our human nature. Thus for all science
a threefold organic relation between subject and object is
necessary. There must be an organic relation between that

68 §39. ORGANIC KKLATION [Div. II

object and our nature, between that object and our conscious
ness, and between that object and our ivorld of thought.

The first also lies pregnantly expressed in viewing man
as a microcosm. The human soul stands in organic relation
to the human bod}-, and that body stands in every way
organically related to the several kingdoms of nature round
about us. Chemically analyzed, the elements of our body
appear to be the same as those of the world which surround
us. Vegetable life finds its analogies in our body. And as
concerns the body, we are not merely organically allied to
the animal world, but an entire world of animalcula crowd in
upon us in all sorts of ways and feed upon our bodies. The
magnetic powers which are at work about us are likewise at
work within us. Our lungs are organically adapted to our
atmosphere, our ear to sound, and our eye to light. Indeed,
wherever a thing presents itself to us as an object of science,
even when for a moment we exclude the spiritual, it stands
in organic relation to our body, and through our body to our
soul. And as far as the spiritual objects are concerned, i.e.
the religious, ethic, intellectual and aesthetic life, it would
be utterly impossible for us to obtain any scientific knowl
edge of these, if all organic relation were wanting between
these spheres of life and our own soul. The undeniable fact
that a blind person can form no idea for himself of the visible
beautiful, and the deaf no idea of music, does by no means
militate against this position. Suppose that a Raphael had
been afflicted in his youth with blindness, or a Bach with
deafness, this would have made us poorer by so much as one
coryphaeus among the artists of the pencil and one virtuoso
among the artists of sound; but the disposition of his genius
to the world of the beautiful would have been no whit less
either in Raphael or in Bach. The normal sense merely
would have been wanting with them, to develop this dispo
sition of genius. For the organic relation in which our soul
stands to these several spheres of spiritual life does not lie
exclusively in the organ of sense, but in the organization
of our spiritual ego.

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 09

Meanwhile this organic relation between our nature and
the object is not enough. If the object is to be the object
of our science, there must in the second place be an organic
relation between this object and our consciousness. Though
the elements of all known stars may not have been determined
adequately, the heavenly bodies constitute objects of science,
as far at least as they radiate light, exhibit certain form, and
are computable with reference to their distance and motion.
Even if, at some later date, similar data are discovered in or
upon stars which thus far have not been observed, as long as
these observations have not been taken they do not count for
our consciousness. However close the organic relation may
be between ourselves and the animal world, the inner nature
of animals remains a mystery to us, as long as the organic
relation between their inner nature and our human conscious
ness remains a secret, and therefore cannot operate. We
see a spider weave its web, and there is nothing in the
spider or in the web that does not stand in numberless ways
organically related to our own being, and yet our science
cannot penetrate what goes on in the spider during the spin
ning of the web, simply because our consciousness lacks
every organic relation to its inner nature. Even in the
opinions which we form of our fellow-men, we face insolu
ble riddles, because we only penetrate those parts of their
inner nature the analogies of which are present in our own
consciousness, but we are not able to see through that par
ticular part of their nature which is solely their own and
which therefore excludes every organic relation with our
consciousness. By saying that our consciousness stands in
the desired organic relation to the object of our science, we
simply affirm that it is possible for man to have an apprehen
sion, a perception, and an impression of the existence and
of the method of existence of the object. In itself it makes
no difference whether this entering in of the object into our
consciousness is the result of an action that goes out from
the object, under which we remain passive, or of our active
observation. Perception and observation are simply impos
sible when all organic relation is wanting between any

70 § 39. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

object and our consciousness. As soon, however, as this
organic relation is established, for external reasons the per
ception and the observation may be retarded or prevented,
but the possibility is still present of having the object enter
into our consciousness.

This organic relation has mistakenly been sought in the so-
called "faculty of feeling." But there is no room for this
third faculty in coordination with the faculties of the under
standing and the will (facultas intelligendi and volendi).
A capacity taken in the sense of facultas is of its own nature
always active, while in the case of the entering in of objects
into our consciousness we may be passive. Oftentimes we
fail entirely in withdrawing ourselves from what we do not
want to hear or see or smell. This objection is not set
aside by distinguishing perception and observation from
each other as two heterogeneous facts. If I examine a thing
purposely, or see it involuntarily, in each case the entirely
self-same organic relation exists, with this difference
only, that with intentional observation our intellect and
our will cooperate in this relation. In which instance
it is our ego which knows the possibility of the relation to
the object; which desires this relation to exist in a given
case ; and which realizes the relation by the exercise of the
will. Hence there can be no question of an active faculty
that shall operate independently of the intellect and the
will. The fact is simply this. There are lines of com
munication that can bring the object outside of us in relation
to our eyo. And these lines of communication are of an
orgar.ic nature, for the reason that with our physical growth
they develop of themselves, and with a finer forming of our
personality they assume of themselves a finer character.
The nature of these organic relations depends of course
entirely upon the nature of the object with which they are
to bring us into communion. If this object belongs to the
material world, these conductors must be partly material,
such as, for instance, in sight the waves of light and our
nerves. If the object, on the other hand, is entirely imma
terial, these relations must exhibit a directly spiritual nature.

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 71

This is actually the case, since the perceptions of right and
wrong, of true and false, etc., force themselves upon our ego
immediately from out the spiritual world. In both cases,
however, the relations that bring us in communion with the
object must ever be sharply distinguished from that which,
by means of these relations, takes place in our consciousness.
By themselves these relations do not furnish the required
organic relation. If I am in telegraphical communication
with Bangkok, it does me no good so long as I do not under
stand the language in which the telegraph operator wires me.
If I understand his language, I am equally in the dark as long
as I do not understand the subject-matter of his message, of
which I can form no idea because I am not acquainted with
the circumstances or because similar affairs do not occur
Avith us. In the same way the object must remain unknown
to me, even though I am in contact with it by numberless
relations, as long as in my consciousness the possibility is
not given of apperceiving it in relation to my personal self.
Of course we take the human consciousness here in its abso
lute sense, and do not detain ourselves to consider those
lower grades of development which may stand in the way of
assimilation of a very complicated object. We merely refer
to those fundamental forms by which the consciousness
operates. And it is self-evident that what is signalled
along the several lines of communication to our conscious
ness, can only effect a result in our consciousness \vhen this
consciousness is fitted to take up into itself what was
signalled. He who is born color-blind is not affected one
way or another by the most beautiful exhibition of colors.
In the same way it would do us no good to scan the purest
tints with keenest eye, if, before this variety of color dis
covered itself to us, there were no ability in our conscious
ness to distinguish color from color. There is, therefore,
no perception or observation possible, unless there is a re
ceptivity for the object in our human consciousness, which
enables our consciousness to grasp it after its nature and
form. Numberless combinations may later enrich this, but
these combinations of themselves would be inconceivable, if

1'2 §30. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

their component parts did not appear beforehand as funda
mental types in our consciousness. Neither can these fun
damental types be grasped in our consciousness unless this
consciousness is fitted to them. The figure of the mirror
should not mislead us. Every image can truly be reflected
in it, even though the glass itself be entirely indifferent and
neutral. But it does not reflect anything except in relation
to our eye. In our consciousness, on the other hand, it does
not only depend upon the reflecting glass, but also upon the
seeing eye. In our consciousness the two coincide. And
no single object can be grasped by our consciousness, unless
the receptivity for this object is already present there. Per
ception and observation, therefore, can only be effected by this
original relation between the object outside of us and the
receptivity for this object, which prior to everything else is
present in our consciousness because created in it. The
microscopic nature of our consciousness asserts itself espe
cially in this. And it is only when this microscopic
peculiarity in the receptivity of our consciousness lends its
effect to the telegraphical relation to the object, that, in
virtue of the union of these two factors, the required organic
relation operates which brings the object in contact with
our consciousness.

By this, however, this object has not yet been introduced
into the world of our thought, and without further aid it
would still lie outside of our "science." In the infinite
divisibility of its parts the odor of incense finds its means
to affect our olfactory nerves. By these nerves it is carried
over into our consciousness, and there finds the capacity to
distinguish this odor from the odor of roses, for instance, as
well as the receptivity to enjoy this odor. But although in
this way a full relation has been established between the
incense as object and the consciousness in our subject, the
scientific explanation of the odor of incense is still wanting,
To the two above-named claims, therefore, we now add the
third; viz. that the object must also enter into an organic
relation to our ivorld of thought. For it is plain that think-

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 73

ing is but one of the forms through which our consciousness
operates. When an infant is pricked by a pin, there is no
single conception, in the consciousness of the child, either
of a pin, of pricking, or of pain, and yet the pricking has
been carried over to its consciousness, for the child cries.
On the other hand, we see that, with an operation under
chloroform, all relation between our consciousness and
a member of our own body can be cut off, so that only
later on, by external observation, we learn that a foot
or an arm has been amputated. Which fact took place
in our OAVII body entirely outside of the consciousness of
our ego. And so there are a number of emotions, im
pressions, and perceptions which, entirely independently
of our thinking and the world of our thought, come into
or remain outside of our consciousness, simply in propor
tion as the receptivity of our ego corresponding therewith
stands or does not stand in relation to the object. All
the emotions of pain or pleasure, of feeling well or not
well, of color and sound, of what is exalted or low, good or
bad, pious or godless, beautiful or ugly, tasty or sickening,
etc., arouse something in our consciousness and enter into
relation with our ego through our consciousness, so that it
is we who suffer pain or joy, are delighted or indignant,
have taste for something or are disgusted with it ; but how
ever strong these emotions of our consciousness may be, they
as such have nothing to do with the thought -action of our
consciousness. If we smell the odor of a rose, the remem
brance of the odor may recall in us the image of the rose,
and this representation may quicken the action of thought ;
but this takes place entirely outside of the odor. For when
some one makes us smell the odor of a plant entirely un
known to us, so that we can form no representation of it,
nor do any thinking about it, the stimulus received by our
consciousness is entirely similar, and as the odor is equally
delicate and fragrant, our pleasure in it is equally great. The
same phenomenon occurs when for the first time we taste
fine wines whose vintage is unknown to us. The simple
entrance, therefore, of something into our consciousness does

74 §39. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

by no means effect its adoption into our world of thought.
Wherefore this third relation of our eyo to the object
demands also a separate consideration.

If the object that enters into relation with our con
sciousness consisted exclusively of those elements which
are perceptible to the senses; if all relation were lacking
between these elements; if no change took place in these
elements themselves; and if there were but one organ of
sense at our disposal, — our human consciousness would
never have used and developed its power of thought. Xo
capacity would have been exercised but sensation, i.e. per
ception, and, in consequence of this, imagination and repre
sentation. The object would have photographed itself on
our consciousness ; this received image would have become
a representation in us, and our imagination would have
busied itself with these representations. But such is not the
case, because we have received more than one organ of sense
to bring us in contact with the selfsame object ; because the
objects are not constant but changeable; because the several
elements in the object are organically related to each other;
and because there are qualities belonging to the object which
lie beyond the reach of the organs of sense, and therefore
refuse all representation of themselves. In many ways the
fact has forced itself upon us, that there is also what we call
relation in the object. The object does not appear to be
simple, but complex, and numberless relations appear among
its component parts. And these relations bear very dif
ferent characters corresponding to the difference of cate
gories ; they lead to endless variations in each part of the
object; they exhibit themselves now between part and part,
and again among groups of parts ; they change according as
they are perceived by different organs of sense, and then cause
a new relation to assert itself among these several relations.
These relations also present themselves between us and the
object, partly as far as we as subject observe, and partly as
far as we ourselves belong to the object to be observed; and
they finally, with the constant change that presents itself,
unite what was to what is, and what is to what is to come.

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 75

In this way there is a whole world of relations; these rela
tions appear equally real and important as the parts of the
object that enter into relation to each other. We frequently
receive the impression that these relations dominate the
component elements of the object more than those elements
the relations ; with the simplest antithesis of these two, as,
for instance, with that of force and matter, the impression
of the relation becomes so overwhelming, that one is fairly
inclined to deny the reality of matter, and accept the rela
tion only as actually existing. Since by reason of its micro-
cosmical character our human consciousness is also disposed
to the observation of these relations, and since these relations
cannot be photographed nor represented, but can only be
thought, apart from the elements among which they exist,
from these infinite series of organically connected relations
the whole world of our thinking is born. If science means
that our human consciousness shall take up into itself what
exists as an organic whole, it goes without saying that she
makes no progress whatever by the simple presentation of the
elements ; and that she can achieve her purpose only when,
in addition to a fairly complete presentation of the elements,
she also comes to a fairly complete study of their relations.1
That morphine quiets pain is a component part of our
knowledge, in so far as it has been discovered that there is a
certain relation between this poppy-juice and our nerves.
But this empirical knowledge will have led to a scientific
insight only when this relation itself shall be understood in
its workings, and when it shall be demonstrable how mor
phine acts upon the nerves so as to neutralize the action of

1 The distinction between elements (moments) and relations in the object
has purposely been employed, because it is the most general one. By ele
ment we understand neither the substantia as substratum of the phenomena,
nor the " Ding an sich " as object minus subject. Both of these are abstrac
tions of thought, and might therefore mislead us. It needs scarcely a re
minder, moreover, that there can be complication and association in these
elements as well as in our presentations of them. And also that they can be
reproduced from memory as well as be freshly perceived. But I cannot
detain myself with all this now. My purpose was but to indicate the two
distinctions in the object, one of which corresponds to our capacity to form
representations, and the other to our capacity to think.

76 § 39. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

a certain stimulus upon them. That these relations can be
grasped by thought alone and not by presentation lies in
their nature. If these relations were like our nerves, that
ramify through our body, or like telephone lines, that stretch
across our cities, they should themselves be elements and
not relations. But this is not so. Nerves and lines of
communications may be the vehicles for the working of the
relations, but they are not the relations themselves. The rela
tions themselves are not only entirely immaterial, and there
fore formless, but they are also void of entity in themselves.
For this reason they can be grasped by our thoughts alone,
and all our thinking consists of the knowledge of these rela
tions. Whether we form a conception of a tree, lion, star,
etc., apart from every representation of them, this conception
can never bring us anything but the knowledge of the
relations in which such a tree, lion, or star stand to other
objects, or the knowledge of the relations in which the com
ponent parts of such a tree, lion, or star stand to each other.
To a certain extent it can be said, therefore, that the relations
are phenomena as well as the elements which we perceive,
and which either by our organs of sense or in some other
way occasion a certain stimulus in our consciousness, and
in this way place our consciousness in relation to these
elements. Without other aids, therefore, science would
enter into our consciousness in two ways only. First, as
the science of the elements, and, secondly, as the science
of the relations which appear between these elements. The
astronomer would obtain science of the starry heavens by
looking at the stars that reveal themselves to his eye, and
the science of their mutual relations and of the relations
between their parts by entering into those relations with his
thoughts. But the activity of our consciousness with ref
erence to the relations is not confined to this.

Our thinking does not confine itself exclusively to play
ing the part of the observer of relations, which is always
more or less passive, but also carries in itself an active power.

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 77

This active power roots in the fact, if we may put it so, that
before we become aware of these relations outside of us, the
setting for them is present in our own consciousness. This
would not be so if these relations were accidental and if they
were not organically related. But to be organically related
is part of their very nature. It is for this reason that the
object is no chaos, but cosmos ; that a universality prevails
in the special; and that there appear in these relations an
order and a regularity which warrant their continuity and
constancy. There is system in these relations. These
several relations also stand in relation to each other, and
our affinity to the object proves itself by the fact that our
capacity of thought is so constructed as to enable it to see
through these last relations. If correctly understood, we
may say that when human thought is completed it shall be
like the completed organism of these relations. Our think
ing is entirely and exclusively disposed to these relations,
and these relations are the objectification of our thinking.
And this carries itself so unerringly that it is easily under
stood why some philosophers have denied the objectivity of
these relations, and have viewed them as being merely the
reproductions of our thinking. This question could not be
settled, were it not for the fact that among the numerous
relations there were also those of a regular and orderly
transition of condition to condition. And since the result
of these relations is also found in places where for ages nat
ure has not been seen by human eyes, such as on the tops
of mountains reached for the first time, or in far out-of-the-
way corners of the world, or in newly examined layers of
the earth-crust, this subjectivism appears untenable. This
identity of our thinking consciousness with the world of
relations must be emphasized, however, in so far as these rela
tions have no existence except for an original Subject, who
has thought them out, and is able to let this product of his
thoughts govern the whole cosmos. Just because these
relations have no substance of their own, they cannot work
organically unless they are organically thought, i.e. from a
first principle. When we study these relations, we merely

78 § 39. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

think the thought over again, l>y which the Subject defined
these relations when he called them into being. If there
were no thought embedded in the object, it could not be
digestible to our thinking. As little as our ear is able to
perceive color, is our thinking able to form for itself a
conception of the object. And it is this very sense, in
separable from our consciousness, from which springs the
invincible impulse, seen in all science, to understand the
cosmos. Not in the sense that the cosmos exists only
logically. This wrould amount to a cosmos that consists
purely of relations. And since relations are unthinkable
unless elements are given between which these relations form
the connection, the inexorable claim lies in the relations
themselves, and in our thinking as such, that there must also
be elements that do not allow themselves to be converted
into relations, and therefore lie outside of the field of our
thinking. All we say is, that nothing exists without rela
tions; that these relations are never accidental, but always
organic; and that the cosmos, as cosmos, in its collective
elements exists logically, and in this logical existence is
susceptible to being taken up into our world of thought.
The result of all science, born from our observation and
from our study of the relations of what lias been observed,
is always certain beforehand. He who aims at anything
but the study of the organic world of thought that lies in
the cosmos, until his own world of thought entirely cor
responds to it, is no man of science but a scientiiical ad
venturer; a franc-tireur not incorporated in the hosts of
thinkers.

The fact that it is possible for us to study the world of
thought lying objectively before us, proves that there is an
immediate relation between our consciousness and objective
thinking by which the cosmos is cosmos. If in our con
sciousness we had the receptivity only for empirical impres
sions of the visible and invisible world, we could not hope
for a logical understanding of the cosmos, i.e. of the world
as cosmos. This, however, is not so. Aside from the sus
ceptibility to impressions of all kinds, our consciousness is

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 79

also able to think logically. This capacity cannot be imita
tive only. This would be conceivable if the whole organism
of the relations of the cosmos were discovered to us. Then
we should be able to acquire this as we acquire a foreign
language, that reveals no single relation to our own tongue.
As, for instance, when a Netherlander learns the language
of the Zulus. But this is not the case. The relations
lie hidden in the cosmos, and they cannot be known in
their deeper connection, unless we approach this logically
existing cosmos as logical thinkers. The science of the
cosmos is only possible for us upon the supposition that
in our thinking the logical germ of a world of thought is
lodged, which, if properly developed, will cover entirely
the logical world of thought lodged in the cosmos. And
this provides the possibility of our thinking showing itself
actively. As soon as we have learned to know the universal
relations that govern the special, or have discovered in these
several relations the germ of a self-developing thought, the
identity between our subjective and the objective world of
thought enables us to perform our active part, both by call
ing the desired relations into being, and by anticipating the
relations which must reveal themselves, or shall afterward
develop themselves. In this way only does human science
attain unto that high, dominant and prophetical character
by which it not only liberates itself from the cosmos, but
also understands it, enables its devotees to take active part
in it, and partially to foresee its future development.

We have not been disappointed, therefore, in our supposi
tion, that what was meant by "science" is genetically re
lated to the etymological root meaning of the verb to know.
It was seen that in the object of science, distinction must be
made between elements and their relations because of the
organic existence of this object. Corresponding to this, it
was seen that our human consciousness (i.e. the subject of
science) has a double receptivity: on the one hand a power
of perception for the elements in the object, and on the other

80 §39. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

hand a power of perception for the relations in the object.
By these two together the act of understanding (actio intel-
ligendi, as the Romans used to call it) becomes complete.
Jf the taking-up of the elements into our consciousness be
called the perception (perceptio), and the taking-up of the
relations into our consciousness the thinking (cogitatio),
it is by these two that the object is reflected in our con
sciousness. What has been frequently placed alongside of
the faculties of the understanding and of the will as the fac
ulty of feeling or the faculty of perception is only a subdivi
sion of the faculty of the understanding. To think (cogitare)
and to understand (intelligere) are not the same. I can
think something that does not exist, while the understand
ing takes place only with reference to an existing object,
which as such never consists of pure relations, but always of
elements as well among which these relations exist. And
though it is a matter of regret that a mistaken parlance has
more and more interpreted the intellect as the faculty of
thought, and that intellectualism has come to be the accepted
term by which to stigmatize gymnastical exercises of abstract
thought, we should not abandon the chaste and rich expres
sion of facultas intelliyendi, which must be interpreted as
consisting of a double action: on the one side of the percep
tion, and on the other side of the comprehension of what was
perceived. This distinction in turn finds its ground in
our dichotomic existence, we being partly somatical and
partly psychical ; since the representation is more somatical
and the conception more psychical.

Of coarse it makes no difference whether the object to be
investigated lies outside of me or in me. If I feel a pain in
my head, my attention is directed to my head, while at the
same time my thinking is stimulated to search out the cause
of that pain and to discover the means by which to relieve
it. In the same way it does not matter whether this per
ception comes to me through the senses or the nerves, from
a tangible and visible object, or whether this perception is
an immediate emotion that affects my spiritual being from
the world of justice, the beautiful, good and true. Thought

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 81

taken by itself can be made the object of investigation, in
which case the element always lies in the subject that
thinks, entirely independently of the fact whether this
subject is any A or B, or the general subject man, angel,
or God. But in whatever way they work, the purpose
of both actions in my consciousness, that of perception
and of thinking, is always to make me know something, or,
after the original meaning of f tSeti', to make me see some
thing. The perception makes me know the element, the
thinking makes me know the relations of this element.
And by the united actions of these two I know what the
object, and the manner of its existence, is.

To prevent misunderstanding we should say, moreover,
that this critical analysis, both of the elements and their rela
tions, and of the perception and the thinking, is only valid
when the object in hand is absolutely elementary. As soon
as we proceed from entirely elementary to complicated phe
nomena, the elements and relations are found constantly
interwoven, in consequence of which the perception and the
thinking work in unison. The difference between the ele
ment and the relation is clearly indicated by an atom and
its motion. For though I think that I clearly perceive the
motion of the atom, I see, in fact, nothing but the same
atom, but constantly in a different relation. If, on the other
hand, I examine a drop of water, I deal with a very compli
cated object, in which numberless elements and relations
intermingle. The glitter, form and peripheral atoms can
be perceived, but I cannot know that this morphological
phenomenon is a drop of water until, not by my perception,
but by my thinking (cogitatio), I obtain the knowledge of
the relations. Through its perception a child notices some
thing glisten and a certain form, by which it knows that
something is near, but it does not know that it is water.
When it sees fire, it puts out its hands towards it. But
when, by means of thinking, the knowledge of relations de
velops itself, the child knows by sight that the drop of water
is wet and that fire burns. This complicated state of the
phenomena gives rise to the morphological elements of a

82 §39. ORGANIC RELATION [Div. II

tree, an animal, etc. And because they are complicated,
their simple observation demands the combined activity of
our perception and thought. One reason the more for
including both under the faculty of the understanding.

Undoubtedly a similar consciousness is active in the more
highly organized animals. When a tiger sees tire in the
distance, he knows that it hurts, though he may never have
felt it. Hence he has not on!}- the knowledge of certain ele
ments, but also a limited knowledge of their relations, and in
a sense much more accurate and immediate than man's. But
it will not do to transfer the idea of understanding to ani
mals on this ground. First, we do not know how this ele
mentary knowledge is effected in the animal. Secondly, this
knowledge in the animal is susceptible of only a very limited
development. And in the third place, in the animal it bears
mostly an instinctive character, which suggests another man
ner of perception. A certain preformation of what operates
in our human consciousness must be admitted in the animal.
But if to a certain extent the activity in man and animal
seems similar, no conclusion can be drawn from one activity
to the other. We know absolutely nothing of the way in
which animals perceive the forms and relations of phe
nomena.

On the other hand, we are justified in concluding that in
our human consciousness, since the conciousness of elements
and relations in the object must be microscopically present,
without this consciousness the emotions received could
never produce what we know as smell, taste, enjoyment of
color, sound, etc. It must be granted that these emotions
in us could simply correspond to certain sensations which
we call smell, taste, etc. ; but in the first place this corre
spondence would have to be constant, and thereby have a
certain objectivity ; and, again, this objective character is
lifted above all doubt by what we call imaf/ination and
abstract thought. From these two activities of the human
mind it appears that our human consciousness can be
affected by the elements and can not only take up their re
lations in us, but from this taking-up into itself, \\liioh is

CHAP. I] BETWEEN SUBJECT AND OBJECT 83

always passive in part, is also able to become active. As
far as the perception is concerned, this action exerts itself
in our imagination, and as far as the thinking is concerned
it exerts itself in our abstract thought. By the imagina
tion we create phenomena for our consciousness, and by
our higher thinking we form relations. If these products
of our imagination and of our higher thinking were without
reality, we would have every reason to think that there is
but one subjective process, which refuses to be more closely
denned. But this is not so. The artist creates harmonies
of tints, which presently are seen to be real in flowers that
were unknown to him. And more striking than this, by
our abstract thinking we constantly form conclusions, which
presently are seen to agree entirely with actual relations. In
this way object and subject stand over against each other as
wholly allied, and the more deeply our human consciousness
penetrates into the cosmos, the closer this alliance is seen to
be, both as concerns the substance and morphology of the
object, and the thoughts that lie expressed in the relations
of the object. And since the object does not produce the
subject, nor the subject the object, the power that binds the
two organically together must of necessity be sought outside
of each. And however much we may speculate and ponder,
no explanation can ever suggest itself to our sense, of the
all-sufficient ground for this admirable correspondence and
affinity between object and subject, on which the possibility
and development of science wholly rests, until at the hand
of Holy Scripture we confess that the Author of the cosmos
created man in the cosmos as microcosmos " after his image
and likeness."

Thus understood, science .presents itself to us as a neces
sary and ever -continued impulse, in the human mind to reflect
within itself the cosmos, plastically as to its elements, and to
think it through logically as to its relations; always with the
understanding that the human mind is capable of this by reason
of its organic affinity to its object.

84 § 40. LANGUAGE [Div. II

§ 40. Language

If a single man could perform this gigantic task in one
moment of time, and if there were no difficulties to encounter,
immediate and complete knowledge would be conceivable
without memory and without spoken language. But since this
intellectual task laps across the ages, is divided among many
thousands of thinkers, and amid all sorts of difficulties can
make but very slow progress — science is not conceivable with
out memory and language. With the flight of time neither
science by representation nor science by conception can be
retained with any permanency, unless we have some means
by which to retain these representations and conceptions.
Whether this retention is accomplished immediately by what
we call memory, or mediately by signs, pictures, or writing,
which recall to us at any moment like representations and
conceptions, is immaterial as far as the result is concerned.
In either case the action goes out from our human mind. The
fact that representations and conceptions are recognized from
the page shows that our mind has maintained its relation to
them, although in a different way from common " remem
brance." If we had become estranged from them, we would
not recognize what had been chronicled. Although then our
mind is more active in what we call "memory," and more
passive in the recognition of what has been recorded, it is in
both cases the action of the same faculty of our mind which,
either with or without the help of means, retains the represen
tation or conception and holds it permanently as accumulated
capital. Observe, however, that in our present state at
least, this stored treasure is sure to corrode when kept in
the memory without aids for retention. This is shown
by the fact that we find it easier to retain a representation
than a conception ; and that our memory encounters the
greatest difficulties in retaining names and signs, which
give neither a complete representation nor a complete con
ception, but which in relation to each are always more or
less arbitrarily chosen. Finally, as to the record of the
contents of our consciousness outside of us, representations

CHAP. I] §40. LANGUAGE 85

and conceptions follow each a way of their own. The
representation expresses itself by art in the image, the con
ception by language in the word. This distinction main
tains its full force, even though by writing the word acquires
in part the nature of the image, and by description the image
acquires in part the nature of the word. The word is writ
ten in figures, even if these are but signs, and the figure can
also be pictured by the poet in words. From this inter
mingling of the two domains it is seen once more how close
the alliance is between representation and conception, in
consequence of the oneness of the action by which the
understanding (facultas intelligendi) directs itself in turn
to the elements in the cosmos and to the relations between
these elements.

This, however, does not imply that language serves no
higher purpose than to aid the memory in securing the capi
tal once acquired by our consciousness against the destructive
inroads of time. Much higher stands the function of lan
guage to make the fund of our representations and concep
tions the common property of man, and thus to raise his
individual condition to the common possession of the gen
eral consciousness of humanity. Without language the
human race falls atomistically apart, and it is only by lan
guage that the organic communion, in which the members
of the human race, stand to each other, expresses itself.
Language is here used in its most general sense. Though
ordinarily we use the word language almost exclusively as
expressing a conception conveyed by sound, we also use it
to express communications conveyed by the eyes, by signs,
by flowers, etc.; and even if we take language in the nar
rower sense, as consisting of words, the imitation of sounds
and the several series of exclamations plainly show that
language is by no means confined to the world of concep
tions. The consciousness of one actually imparts to the con
sciousness of the other what it has observed and thought out ;
of its representations therefore, as well as of its conceptions;
and corresponding to this, language has the two fundamen
tal forms of image and word ; it being quite immaterial

86 §40. LANGUAGE [Div. II

whether the image is a mere indication, a rough sign or a
finely wrought form. A motion of the hand, a sign, a look
of the eyes, a facial expression, are parts of human language
as well as words. Nor should it be overlooked that, at least
in our present state, language without words has a broad
advantage over language in words. While language in
words serves your purpose as far as the knowledge of your
own language extends, the language of symbol is univer
sally intelligible, even to the deaf and dumb, with only the
blind excepted. The old custom, which is reviving itself of
late, of publishing books with pictures, is from this view
point entirely justified. Since our consciousness has a two
fold manner of existence, that of representation and of
conception, the union of image and ivord will ever be the
most perfect means of communication between the con
sciousness of one and of another. And communion can
become so complete that a given content may be perfectly
transmitted from the consciousness of one into that of
another. The real difficulty arises only when instead of
being borrowed from the morphological part of the cosmos,
the content of your communication is taken from the
amorphic or asomatic part of the cosmos ; such as when
you try to convey to others your impressions and percep
tions of the world of the true, the good, and the beautiful.
We have no proper means at command by which to reproduce
the elements of this amorphic cosmos, so that by the aid of
symbolism we must resort to analogies and other utterances
of mind which are forever incomplete. This renders the
relation .3 among these elements continually uncertain, so
that our conceptions of these relations are never entirely
clear, while nevertheless a tendency arises to interpret this
amorphic cosmos as consisting purely of conceptions. As
this, however, will be considered more fully later on, it is
sufficient to state here that for all science, language in its
widest sense is the indispensable means both of communica
tion between the consciousness of one and that of another,
and for the generalization of the human consciousness in
which all science roots.

CHAP. I] §40. LANGUAGE 87

But language by itself would only accomplish this task
within the bounds of a very limited circle and for a brief
period of time, if it had not received the means of perpetu
ating itself in writing and in printing. Not the spoken but
only the written and printed word surmounts the difficulty
of distance between places and times. No doubt language
possessed in tradition a means by which it could pass 011
from mouth to mouth, and from age to age ; especially
in the fixed tradition of song ; but this was ever extremely
defective. Carving or painting on stone, wood, or canvas
was undoubtedly a more enduring form ; but the full, rich
content of what the human consciousness had grasped, ex
perienced and thought out could only be made cecumenic
and perpetual with any degree of accuracy and complete
ness, when wondrous writing provided the means by which
to objectify the content of the consciousness outside of self
and to fix it. This writing naturally began with the repre
sentation and only gradually learned to reproduce concep
tions by the indication of sounds. Thus image and word
were ever more sharply distinguished, till at length with
civilized nations the hieroglyphic language of images and
the sound-indicating language of words have become two.
And no finer and higher development than this is con
ceivable. The two actions of our consciousness, that of
observing the elements and of thinking out their relations,
which at first were commingled in their reproduction, are
now clearly distinguished, and while art is bent upon an
ever-completer reproduction of our representations, writing
and printing offer us an entirely sufficient means for the
reproduction of our conceptions.

But even this does not exhibit the highest function of lan
guage for human life in general and for science in particu
lar. Language does not derive its highest significance from
the fact that it enables us to retain and to collect the repre
sentations and conceptions of our consciousness; nor yet
from the fact that in this way it serves as the means of com
munication between the consciousness of one and the con
sciousness of another ; but much more from the fact that

88 §40. LANGUAGE [Uiv. II

language makes the content of our consciousness our property.
It is one thing in the first stage of development to know
that there are all sorts of sensations, perceptions, impressions,
and distinctions in our consciousness, which we have neither
assimilated nor classified. And it is quite another thing
to have entered upon that second stage of our development,
in which we have transposed this content of our conscious
ness into representations and conceptions. And it is by
language only that our consciousness effects this mighty
transformation, by which the way is paved for the real progress
of all science ; and this is done partly already by the lan
guage of images ; but more especially by the language of
words ; and thus by the combined action of the imagination
and thought. In this connection we also refer to the action
of the imagination, for though ordinarily we attach a crea
tive meaning to the imagination, so that it imagines some
thing that does not exist, the figurative representation of
something we have perceived belongs to this selfsame action
of our mind. Representation surpasses the mere perception,
in that it presents the image as a unit and in some external
relation, and is in so far always in part a product also of our
thought, but only in so far as our thought is susceptible <>f
plastic objectification. Hence in the representation our ego
sees a morphological something that belongs to the content
of our consciousness. But whatever clearness may arise
from this, and however necessary this representation may be,
for the clearness of our consciousness, the representation by
itself is not sufficient for our ego ; we must also logically
understand the object ; and this is not conceivable without
the forming of the conception. And this very forming nf
the conceptions, and the whole work which our mind then
undertakes with these conceptions, would be absolutely
inconceivable, if the language of words did not offer us the
means to objectify for ourselves what is present in our
consciousness as the result of thought. Being used to the
manipulation of language, we may well be able to follow up
a series of thoughts and partly arrange them in order, with
out whispering or writing a word, but this is merely the

CHAP. I] § 41. FALLACIOUS THEORIES 89

outcome of mental power acquired by the use of language.
When the content of our logical consciousness is objectified
in language, this objectification reflects itself in our con
sciousness, which enables us to think without words ; but
by itself we cannot do without the word. Since we are
partly psychic and partly somatic, it is by virtue of our two
fold nature that psychic thought seeks a body for itself in
the word, and only in this finest commingling of our psychic
and somatic being does our ego grasp with clearness the
content of our logical consciousness. The development of
thinking and speaking keeps equal pace with the growing
child, and only a people with a richly developed language
can produce deep thinkers. We readily grant that there are
persons whose speech is both fluent and meaningless, and
that on the other hand there are those who think deeply
and find great difficulty in expressing themselves clearly ;
but this phenomenon presents no objection to our assertion,
since language is the product of the nation as a whole, and
during the period of his educational development the in
dividual merely grows into the language and thereby into
the world of thought peculiar to his people. No reckon
ings therefore can be made with what is peculiar to the few.
The relation between language and thought bears a general
character, and only after generalization can it be critically
examined.

§ 41. Fallacious Theories

Suppose that no disturbance by sin had taken place in the
subject or object, we should arrive by way of recapitulation
at the following conclusion : The subject of science is the
universal ego in the universal human consciousness ; the
object is the cosmos. This subject and object each exists
organically, and an organic relation exists between the two.
Because the ego exists dichotomically, i.e. psychically as well
as somatically, our consciousness has two fundamental forms,
which lead to representations and to conceptions; while in
the object we find the corresponding distinction between ele
ments and relations. And it is in virtue of this correspond-

90 § 41. FALLACIOUS THEORIES [Div. II

ence that science leads to an understanding of the cosmos,
both as to its elements and relations. The subject is able
to assimilate the cosmos as object, because it bears in itself
microcosmically both the types of these elements and the
frame into which these relations naturally fit. And finally
the possibility of obtaining not merely an aggregate but an
organically connected knowledge of the cosmos, by which also
to exercise authority over it, arises from the fact that there
is a necessary order dominant in this cosmos, springing logi
cally from the same principle which also works ectypically
in our own microcosmically disposed consciousness.

Thus, taken apart from all disturbances by sin and curse,
our human consciousness should, of necessity, have entered
more and more deeply into the entire cosmos, by representa
tion as well as by conception-forming thought. The cosmos
would have been before us as an open book. And foras
much as we ourselves are a part of that cosmos, we should
have, with an ever-increasing clearness of consciousness, lived
the life of that cosmos along with it, and by our life itself
we should have ruled it.

In this state of things, the universality and necessity,
which are the indispensable characteristics of our knowledge
of the cosmos if it is to bear the scientific stamp, would
not have clashed with our subjectivism. Though it is in
conceivable that in a sinless development of our race all
individuals would have been uniform repetitions of the self
same model ; and though it must be maintained, that only
in the multiform individualization of the members of our
race lies the mark of its organic character ; yet in the ab
sence of a disturbance, this multiformity would have been as
harmonious, as now it works unharmoniously. With mutual
supplementation there would have been no conflict. And
there would have been no desire on the part of one indi
vidual subject to push other subjects aside, or to trans
form the object after itself. That this disturbance, alas, did
occur, from which subjectivism sprang as a cancer to poison
our science, comes under consideration later. Only let it here
be observed how entirely natural it is for thinkers who deny

CHAP. I] § 41. FALLACIOUS THEOKIES 91

the disturbance by sin, to represent science to this day as an
absolute power, and are thereby forced either to limit science
to the " sciences exactes," or to interpret it as a philosophic
system, after whose standards reality must be distorted.

The first tendency has prevailed in England, the second in
Germany. The first tendency, no doubt, arose also in France,
but the name of " sciences exactes" as appears from the added
term exactes, lays no claim to science as a whole. In England,
however, science, in its absolute sense, is more and more the
exclusive name for the natural sciences ; while the honorary
title of " scientific " is withheld from psychological inves
tigations. Herein lies an honest intention, which deserves
appreciation. It implies the confession that only that
which can be weighed and measured sufficiently escapes
the hurtful influence of subjectivism to bear an absolute, i.e.
an universal and necessary character; even in the sense that
the bare data obtained by such investigations, by repeated
experiments, are raised to infallibility, and as such are com
pulsory in their nature. And such — we by no means deny
— all science ought to be. But however honestly this theory
may be intentioned, it is nevertheless untenable. First in so
far as even the most assiduous students of these sciences
never confine themselves to mere weighing and measuring,
but, for the sake of communicating their thoughts and of
exerting an influence upon reality and common opinion,
formulate all manner of conclusions and hypothetical propo
sitions tainted by subjectivism, which are at heart a denial
of their own theory. Only remember Darwinism ; the fun
damental opposition which it meets with from men of repute
shows that it has no compulsory character, and hence does
not comply with the demands of the sciences. But also in
the second place this theory is untenable, because it either
ignores the spiritual, in order to maintain the ponderable,,
world, and thus ends in pure materialism, or it ignores every
organic relation between the ponderable and the spiritual
world and thereby abandons the science of the cosmos as
such.

The second tendency stands much higher, and, by reason of

V'2 §42. THE SPIKITl'AL SCIENCES [Div. II

the power of German thought, lias ever led the van, and vigor
ously maintained the demand that science should lead to an
organic knowledge of the entire cosmos, derived from one
principle. Unfortunately, however, this theory, which with
a sinless development would have been entirely correct,
and is still correct in an ideal sense, no longer meets
the actual state of things, partly because the investigating
subjects stand inharmoniously opposed to one another, and
partly because all sorts of anomalies have gained an entrance
into the object. Only think of human language and of the
conflict that has been waged about analogies and anomalies
since the days of the Sophists and Alexandrians ! If, from
this point of view, the disturbance of the harmony in the
subject as well as in the object fails to be taken into ac
count, and the effort is persisted in logically to explain the
discord from one principle, one ends in speculation which
does not impart an understanding of the cosmos, but either
imagines a cosmos which does not exist, or pantheistic-ally
destroys every boundary line, till finally the very difference
between good and evil is made to disappear.

Truly the entire interpretation of science, applied to tin-
cosmos as it presents itself to us now, and is studied by the
subject >k man *' as he now exists, is in an absolute sense gov
erned by the question whether or no a disturbance has been
brought about by sin either in the object or in the subject of
science.

This all-determining point will therefore claim our atten
tion in a special section, after the character of the spiritual
sciences shall have been separately examined.

§ 42. The Spiritual Sciences

If the cosmos, man included, consisted exclusively of pon
derable things, the study of the cosmos would be much
simpler than it is now, but there would be no subject to
appropriate this knowledge. Hence science has no right to
complain that the cosmos does not consist of mere matter.
It is to this very fact that science owes its existence. Mean
while we cannot overestimate the difficulty of obtaining a

CHAP. I] § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 93

science, worthy of the name, of the spiritual side of the
cosmos. This difficulty is threefold.

In the first place all the psychic, taken in the ordinary
sense, is amorphie, from which it follows that the morpho
logic capacity of our consciousness, by which we form an
image of the object and place it before us, must here remain
inactive. Thus while, in the tracing of relations in all that
is ponderable, our understanding finds a point of support
in the representation of the elements among which these
relations exist, here this point of support is altogether want
ing. This does not imply that the object of these sciences
is unreal; for even with the sciences of ponderable objects
your understanding never penetrates to the essence. In
your representation you see the form (jiopfyrj*) ; you follow
the relations (avafyopat) with your thinking ; but the essence
( OVO-LO.) lies be}'ond your reach. This does not imply that
the spiritual objects may not have something similar among
themselves, to what in the non-spiritual we understand by
popcbij : the forma in the world of thought rather suggests
the contrary ; but in either case these forms are a secret to
us. and our consciousness is not able to take them up and
communicate them to our ego. And since as somatic-psychic
beings we are naturally inclined to assimilate every object
both plastically and logically, we certainly feel a want with
respect to this in the spiritual domain. This want induces
us all too easily to interpret this entire realm logically only,
and so to promote a false intellectualism or a dangerous
speculation.

The second difficulty under which the spiritual sciences
labor is the instability of their object. You can classify
minerals, plants and animals, and though in these classi
fications you must ever be prepared for variations and
anomalies, nevertheless certain fixed marks can be deter
mined to distinguish class from class. But with the
spiritual sciences, which constantly bring you in touch
with man. this rule evades you. Even the classification
according to sex frequently suffers shipwreck upon effemi
nate men and mannish women. In "man" only does there

94 §42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES [Div. II

assert itself to its fullest extent that individuality which
principle resists every effort to generalize, and thus obstructs
the way to the universal and necessary character of your
science. You find a certain number of phenomena in
common, but even these common properties are endlessly
modified. And the worst is that in proportion as an indi
vidual is a richer object, and thus would offer the more
abundant material for observation, the development of his
individuality is the stronger, and by so much the less does
such an individual lend himself to comparison. From a
sharply denned character there are almost no conclusions
to be drawn.

And along with this amorphic and unstable characteristic a
third difficulty is that in most of the spiritual sciences you are
dependent upon the self-communication of your object. It
is true, you can study man in his actions and habits. His
face tells you something ; his eye still more. But if it is
your desire to obtain a somewhat more accurate knowledge
of the spiritual phenomena in him, in order to become ac
quainted with him, there must be in him : (1) a certain
knowledge of himself, and (2) the power and will to reveal
himself to you. If, then, as a result of all such self-communi
cation you desire to form some opinion on the spiritual phe
nomenon which you investigate, especially in connection
with what has been said above, such self-communication
must be made by a great number of persons and amid all
sorts of circumstances. Moreover, many difficulties arise
in connection with this self-communication of your object.
(1) Most people lack sufficient self-knowledge. (2) So
many people lack the ability to impart to you their self-
knowledge. (8) Much is told as though it were the result
of self-knowledge, which is in reality only the repetition
of what others have said. (4) Many do not want to
reveal themselves, or purposely make statements that mis
lead. (5) Self-knowledge is frequently connected with inti
mate considerations or facts which are not communicable.
(6) With the same individual this self-communication will
be wholly different at one time from another. And (7) a right

CHAP. I] § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 95

understanding of what one tells you requires generally
such a knowledge of his past, character, and manner of life
as is only obtained from a very few persons. It is most
natural, therefore, that in recent times the young child has
been taken as the object of observation, for the reason that
with the child these difficulties are materially lessened ; but
this is balanced, again by the fact that, because of its im
maturity, the child expresses so little.

Thus we find that the difficulty in the way of the spiritual
sciences does not lie in the mystery of the essence of their
object. With the exact sciences the essence is equally mys
terious. Neither does the difficulty of these sciences lie
simply in the amorphic character of their object, or, if you
please, in the lack of tangible elements. But the knowledge
of the relations of the object of these sciences is so difficult
to be obtained, because these relations are so uncertain in
their manifestation and are therefore almost always bound to
the self-communication of the object. It is noteworthy how
slow the progress of these sciences is, especially when com
pared with the rapid progress of the exact sciences ; and the
more so since the effort has been made to apply to them the
method of the natural sciences.

Symbolism, mythology, personification, and also poetry,
music and almost all the fine arts render us invaluable ser
vice as interpretations of what is enacted within the spiritual
realm, but by themselves they offer us no scientific knowl
edge. Symbolism is founded upon the analogy and the
inner affinity, which exist between the visible and invisible
creation. Hence, it is not only an imperfect help, of which
we may avail ourselves since our forms of thought are bor
rowed from the visible, but it represents a reality which is
confirmed in our own human personality by the inner and
close union of our somatic-ps}~chic existence. Without
that analogy and that inner affinity there would be no
unity of perception possible, nor unity of expression for
our two-sided being as man. Your eye does not see ; your
ego sees, but through your eye ; and this use of your eye
could not effect the act of your seeing, if in the reflection

in) §42. THK SPIRITUAL SCIENCES [Div. II

of light in your eye there were no actual analogy to that
which your c<jo does when you see something through
your eye. And though this analogy may weaken when ap
plied to the other parts of the cosmos, in proportion as their
affinity to man becomes more limited, we cannot escape
from the impression that this analogy is everywhere present.
With the aid of this symbolical tendency mythology seeks to
represent the spiritual powers as expressions of mysterious
persons. And though with us the life of the imagination is
subjected too greatly to the verification of our thinking, for
us to appreciate such a representation, we constantly feel the
need of finding in personification useful terms for our utter
ances and for the interpretation of our feelings. In fact, our
entire language for the psychic world is founded upon this
symbolism. Although in later days, without remembrance
of this symbolism, many words have purposely been formed
for psychical phenomena, the ouomatopepoiemena excepted, all
words used to express psychical perception or phenomena are
originally derived by the way of symbolism from the visible
world. And where poetry, music, or whatever art comes in to
cause us to see or hear, not merely the beautiful in the form,
but also the interpretation of the psychic, it is again on the
ground of a similar analogy between the visible and invisible,
that they cause us to hear something in verse or in musical
rhythm, or to see something by means of the chisel or the
pencil which affects our psychical life or teaches it to under
stand itself. Indeed, in the affinity between the visible
and invisible part of the cosmos, and in the analogy founded
on it, there lies an invaluable means of affecting the psychi
cal life and of bringing it to utterance ; but however richly
and beautifully the world of sounds may be able to inter
pret and inspire our inner life, it offers no building material
for scientific knowledge. Moreover, with all these expressions
of art you must always reckon with the individuality of the
artist who enchants your eye or ear, which sometimes expresses
itself very strongly, so that with all the products of art, inde
pendent of sin and falsehood, which have invaded this realm
also, the above-mentioned objection of individuality returns.

CHAP. I] § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 97

If the empiricism of symbolism is of very limited service
to us, the empiricism of the more general expressions of the
psychic life is equally unhelpful. The method of tracing the
expressions of the intellectual, ethic, social, juridic, aesthetic
and religious life among the different nations through the
course of time is justifiable, and it must be granted that the
similarity and the similar process of these phenomena among
different nations warrant certain conclusions concerning the
character of these life-utterances ; but by itself this historic-
comparative study offers no sufficiently scientific knowledge
of the psychical life itself. Because you know that water
descends upon the mountains mostly in the form of snow ;
that there it forms glaciers ; that these glaciers melt ; and
that first as foaming torrents, and then as a navigable
stream, the water pushes forward to the ocean, your scien
tific knowledge of water is not yet complete. And really
this historic-comparative study of the moral, social and re
ligious life of the nations teaches us not much more. Hence
though we would not question for a single moment the rela
tive right and usefulness of these studies, we emphatically
deny that these studies constitute the real prosecution of the
spiritual sciences. You may excel in all these studies, and
not know the least thing about your own soul, which subject
ively forms the centre of all psychic investigation. And
what is more serious still, in this way you run a great risk
of, unknown to yourself, falsifying the object of your sci
ence, if not of denaturalizing it. Apply, for instance, this
method to the science of law, and you must form the conclu
sion that existing law only is law. Since this existing law
constantly modifies itself according to the ideas of law
that are commonly accepted, all antithesis between lawful
and unlawful becomes at last a floating conception, and
law degenerates into an official stipulation of the tempora
rily predominating ideas concerning mutual relationships.
Thus you deprive law of its eternal principles ; you falsify
the sense of law, which by nature still speaks in us ; and
your so-called study of law degenerates into a study of
certain phenomena, which you mark with the stamp of

98 § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES [Div. II

law. For though it is asserted that the idea of law de
velops itself with an inner impulse in the process of these
phenomena; yet this may never be taken naturalistically, in
the form of a physiological process; and you should know
the idea of law, which is entirely different from these phe
nomena, before you will be able critically to analyze the
phenomenon of law. And thus we see in fact the simplest
principles of law pass more and more into discredit, and the
rise of two factions which, each in turn, call lawful what
the other condemns as unlawful. This antithesis is especially
prominent in its application to the conceptions of personal
property and capital punishment. One wants violated law to
be revenged on the murderer, while to the other he is simply
an object of pity, as a victim of atavism. Every existing law
(jus constitutum) declares, that property must be protected
by law, but the anarchist declares that in the ideal law
(jus constituendum) all property must be avenged as theft.
Though, therefore, without hesitation we concede that the
dominion of symbolism points to a strong analogy between
things " seen " and " unseen " ; and though we readily grant
that the naturalistic method, by historic comparative study,
is productive of rich results also for the spiritual sciences; we
emphatically deny that the study of the spiritual sciences
can be entirely bound to the method of the natural sciences.
The cause of this difference is that the science of things
" seen " is built up (1) from the sensuous perception or ob
servation of the elements by our senses, and (2) from the
logical knowledge of the relations which exist among these
elements by our thinking. This, however, is impossible
with the spiritual sciences. In the object of this science
the same distinction must be made between the real ele
ments and their relations. But, fitted to bring us in con
nection with the elements of the things " seen," our senses
refuse to render this service with reference to the elements
of the tilings "unseen." Moreover, it is self-evident that
the logical knowledge of the relations, which by itself
would 1)0 insufficient, becomes floating, while the elements
among which they exist are not known. The plastic ca-

CHAP. I] §42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 99

pacity of our mind, which, by means of the senses, is able
to take up into itself the elements of the things "seen,"
remains here inactive, and the logical capacity is insuf
ficient by itself to form conceptions and judgments. If,
nevertheless, the effort is made to treat these spiritual
sciences after the method of things " seen," a double
self-deception is committed : unknowingly one changes the
object and unconsciously one chooses his point of support in
something not included in. this method. The object is
changed when, as in Theology for instance, not God but
religion is made the object of investigation, and religion only
in its expressions. And something is chosen as point of de
parture which this method does not warrant, when the notion
or the idea of religion is borrowed from one's own subject.

The question therefore is, what renders the service in
the spiritual sciences, which the representation-capacity
in connection with the senses effects in things " seen."
Since the object of the spiritual sciences is itself spiritual,
and therefore amorphic, our senses not only, but the repre
sentation-capacity as well, render here no service. If no
other means is substituted, the spiritual object remains be
yond the reach of our scientific research, and spiritual phe
nomena must either be interpreted materialistically as the
product of material causes, or remain agnostically outside of
our science, even as the present English use of the word science
prescribes. This result, however, would directly conflict
with what experience teaches. Again and again it appears
that there are all sorts of spiritual things which we know
with far greater certainty than the facts which are brought
us by the observation of things "seen." The sense of right,
the sense of love, the feeling of hatred, etc., appear again and
again to have a much more real existence in our consciousness
than many a member of our own body. And though the
idealism of Fichte in its own one-sidedness may have outrun
itself, you nevertheless cease to be man when the reality of
spiritual things is not more certain to you than what by in-

100 §42. TIIH SPIRITUAL SCIENCES Ll'iv. II

vestigation you know of plant and animal. If we maintain
the etymological root-idea of science, in the sense that what
is known forms its content, you maim your science when you
deny it access to spiritual objects.

There is no other course therefore than to construct the
spiritual sciences from the subject itself; provided you do not
overlook that the subject of science is not this inquirer or
that, but the human consciousness in general. It was seen
that with visible things all distinguishing knowledge would
be inconceivable, if the archetypic receptivity for these
objects were not present, microcosmically, in the human
consciousness. And with reference to spiritual objects it
may in a like sense be postulated, that the presence of such
an archetypic receptivity for right, love, etc., is also found
in our consciousness. Otherwise, these would simply have
no existence for us. But with this receptivity by itself the
task is not ended. An action must be exerted by the object
of your science upon this receptivity. It is indifferent for the
present whether this action comes to you mediately or im
mediately. We do not become aware of right, for instance,
as a poetic product of our own spirit, but as a power which
dominates us. We perceive the working of that power even
when our feeling for right is not aroused, as in a concrete
case by an occurrence outside of us. Entirely independently
of the revelation, violation or application of right in given
circumstances, we know that we must do right; and this
sense cannot be in us, except that power of right, to which
AVO feel ourselves subjected, moves and touches us in our
inner being. This becomes possible since we possess the re
ceptivity for right, but is only established when right itself,
as a power which dominates us, works upon that receptivity,
and by it enters into our consciousness. The question lying
back of this, whether right itself exists as universal, or is
simply an expression for what exists in God, need not detain
us. It is enough as long as we but know that in the
taking-up of the object of the spiritual sciences as well ns
in the perception of the object of the natural sciences, we
must distinguish in ///<• i>F>)'i't>f between the element and its

CHAP. I] § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 101

relations, and in our consciousness between the correspond
ing perception of the element and examination of its rela
tions. Always with this difference in view, that in the
world of matter the element works upon our consciousness
through the senses, which provokes the action of the power
of representation ; while with the spiritual sciences the
element does not work upon the senses, neither through the
representation, but in keeping with its spiritual nature
affects our consciousness subjectively, and finds a recep
tivity in our subject which renders this emotion possible.
And this emotion may be constant, and thus result in a
permanent sense, or it may be accidental, in which case it
falls under the conception of inspiration. In the trans
mission of the object of the spiritual sciences into our
consciousness the same process takes place as in the dis
covery of our consciousness to the object of the natural
sciences. In each case we take up into ourselves the element
and the relations differently. In each case the receptivity
must be present in us for the elements and for the relations.
And in each case it is our thinking that makes us know the
relations, while the perception of the element conies to us
from the object itself. But these two sciences differ, in that
the element of the visible world enters into our conscious
ness by a different way than the element of the spiritual
world ; the elements of the visible world working upon our
powers of representation through the senses, while in entire
independence of our senses and of any middle link known to
us, the elements of the spiritual world affect our subject
spiritually, and thus to our apprehension appear to enter
immediately into our consciousness.

Thus the science of the spiritual object is derived from the
subjectivity in man ; but always in such a way, that here also
our individual subject may never be taken independently
of its organic relation to the general subject of the human
race. The individual investigator who seeks to construct
the spiritual sciences exclusively from his own subjective
perceptions, virtually destroys thereby the very conception
of science, and he will have no place for Philology, History,

102 § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES [Div. II

Political and Social sciences, etc. And though it might
seem that this would destroy the subjective character of by
far the greater part of the investigations within the domain
of the spiritual sciences, it is not so. All study of law, for
instance, would be inconceivable by a scholar Avho did not
have the sense of right, however imperfectly, in himself. The
study of language is only possible because we know the rela
tions between the soul, thought and sound, from our own
subject. Statesmanship can only be studied, because by
nature man is an active partner in all public affairs. The
starting-point and the condition for the prosecution of these
sciences consequently always lie in our own subjective sense.
In the vestibule of Psychology the psychic phenomena of
animal life receive ever greater attention, which study offers
no mean contribution to the knowledge of simple percep
tions ; but the leading scientists unanimously protest against
the conclusions drawn from this for the knowledge of the
social life of animals, such as those for instance of Sir John
Lubbock for the world of ants. If the possibility might be
born at any time to determine by analogy that there are
psychological and sociological relations in the world of ani
mals, it could not affect our position. Even then it would
not be the world of animals that interprets to us the world of
man, but on the contrary it would still be our own subject
ive sense, from which by analogy a world is concluded analo
gous to ours ; just as Theologians have set us the example
with respect to the world of angels.

Neither should we be misled by the fact that the objective
character predominates in by far the larger part of the labor
expended upon spiritual studies. If it is true that with
Psychology for instance the physico-psychic experiment, and
the comparative study of psychic expression and ethnological-
historic investigations offer very considerable contributions to
this department of science, it must not be forgotten that all
these preliminary studies are impelled and directed by the
psychic sense itself, and that after these preliminary studies
the real construction of Psychology only commences. The
more objective side of these studies has a twofold cause.

CHAP. I] § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 103

First the relation which exists in the entire domain of this
study between our soul and our body, and between the
expression of our soul and the visible cosmos. And secondly
the necessity of examining our own psychical life not by
itself, but in organic relation to the psychical life of our
human race. Here, however, appearance should not deceive
us. Whatever we observe physically in this respect, or
observe in cosmic expressions of the psychical life, does not
really belong as such to the psychical sciences. And where
out of our own individual subject we try to find a bridge by
which to reach the subjective life of humanity, that bridge
is never anything but a bridge, and it is not the bridge,
but the psychical world which we reach by it, that claims
our attention.

Distinction, therefore, must be made between pure and
mixed spiritual sciences. Language, for instance, is a mixed
spiritual science, because everything that pertains to the
modulation of sounds, and the influence exerted on them
by the general build of the body, and especially by the
organs of breathing, articulation, and of hearing, is somatic;
and the real psychical study is only begun when in this
body of language the logos as its psychic element is reached.
Thus also in history the building of cities, the waging of
war, etc., is the body of history, and its psychical study
only begins when we seek to reach the motives of human
action which hide behind this somatic exterior, and to in
terpret the mysterious power which, partly by and partly
without these motives, caused hundreds of persons, and
whole nations, to run a course which, if marked by retro
gression, suggests, nevertheless, the unwinding of a ball
of yarn. And whether you trace these motives, or whether
you study the mysterious succession of generations, your
own subjective-psychical life is ever shown to be your
starting-point, and empiricism leaves you in the lurch. This
is most forcibly illustrated by Philosophy in the narrower
sense, which, just because it tries logically to interpret, if
not the cosmos itself, at least the image received of it by
us, ever bears a strongly subjective character, and with

104 §42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES [Div. II

its coryphaei, least of all, is able to escape this individual
stamp. The philosophical premises thus obtained by indi
vidual heroes among thinkers, according to the impulse
of their own subjectivity, are then borrowed by the lesser
gods (dii minores), in virtue of spiritual "elective affinity"
(\Vahlverwandtschaft), and equally in accordance with their
subjective predilection. And these premises will dominate
the entire study of spiritual sciences in given circles, as far
as these, with the empiric data as building material, devote
themselves architecturally to the erection of the building.
Let no one, therefore, be blinded by the appearance of
objectivity, brought about by the exhibition of these em
piric data. It is sheer self-deception to think that we
can ever succeed in making the spiritual sciences fit the
same last as the natural sciences. Even Avith the latter,
simple empiricism can never suffice. Everything that is
material and can consequently be counted, weighed and
measured, no doubt offers us, at least as far as these rela
tions are concerned, a universally compulsory certainty,
which, if observation be correct, bears an absolutely object
ive character. As soon, however, as you venture one step
farther in this physical domain, and from these empiric
data try to obtain a construction by which to discover
among these scattered data a unity of thought, the process
of an idea, or the progression from a first phenomenon to
a result, you have at once crossed over from the physical
into the psychical, the universally compulsory certainty
leaves you, and you glide back into subjective knowledge,
since you are already within the domain of the spiritual
sciences. Thus to make it still appear that these philo
sophical interpretations and constructions, such as, for in
stance, the Descendenz-theorie, are merely logical deduc
tions from empiric data, is deception. And this deception
continues itself within the domain of the spiritual sciences,
since here, also, one thinks that he starts out from empiric
data, when these empiric data at best can only serve as
means to enrich your investigation and verify it, but are
never able to reveal or to interpret to you the psychic self,

CHAP. I] § 42. THE SPIRITUAL SCIENCES 105

which, after all, is the real object of these sciences. The
result of this dangerous self-deception is, that in all these
departments detail and preliminary studies greatly flourish,
while for the greater part the real study of these sci
ences lies fallow. For instance, uncommon energy is spent
in the study of the expressions and phenomena of religious
life in different ages and among different peoples, by which
to formulate them with utmost accuracy, while religion
itself, which is the real object in hand, is neglected. In
the same way the manifestations of the moral life of nations
are studied in their several periods and localities, but cer
tainty about the power which determines the norm of moral
life, and knowledge of the means of causing moral life to
flourish, are more and more lost, — an atrophy, which ap
plies as well to the study of psychology, of history, of
law, etc., and which can only be understood from a false
desire to materialize the psychical, as if matter could be
treated on an equal footing with the psychic. This desire,
in itself, is readily understood, since an outwardly compul
sory certainty in this domain would be still more desirable
to many people than in the domain of the natural sciences ;
and it is even measurably just, since the empiric data,
which with the spiritual sciences also are at our service,
were formerly all too grossly neglected. But, as soon as
it tries to exalt itself into a method, it meets an inex
orable obstacle in the nature and character of the psychic ;
on the one hand, because the psychical image assumes no
form for us except in its subjective individualization ; and,
on the other hand, because the psychic can never be grasped
in any other way than by our own psychic sense.

CHAPTER II

SCIENCE IMPAIRED BY SIN

§ 43. Science and Sin

The subjective character which is inseparable from all
spiritual science, in itself would have nothing objectionable
in it, if it had not been given a most dangerous exponent
by sin. If there were no sin, nor any of its results, the
subjectivity of A would merely be a variation of the sub
jectivity in B. In virtue of the organic affinity between
the two, their subjectivity would not be mutually antago
nistic, and the sense of one would harmoniously support and
confirm the sense of the other. In the days of the Reforma
tion, the impulse that impelled so many thousands to reform
was preponderantly subjective. But the fact that in all
these subjects a common conviction aimed at a common end,
accounts for the irresistible force that was born from the
cooperation of these many subjectivities. But, alas, such
is not the case in the domain of science. It is all too often
evident, that in this domain the natural harmony of subjec
tive expression is hopelessly broken ; and for the feeding of
scepticism this want of harmony has no equal. By an
investigation of self and of the cosmos you have obtained a
well-founded scientific conviction, but when you state it, it
meets with no response from those who, in their way, have
investigated with equally painstaking efforts ; and not only
is the unity of science broken, but you are shaken in the
assurance of your conviction. For when you spoke vnur con
viction, you did not mean simply to give expression to the
insight of your own e//o, but to the universal human insight;
which, indeed, it ought to be, if it were wholly accurate.

But of necessity we must accept this hard reality, and in
every theory of knowledge which is not to deceive itself,

100

CHAP. II] §43. SCIENCE AND SIN 107

the fact of sin must henceforth claim a more serious con
sideration. Naturally the terrible phenomenon of sin in its
entirety can have no place in these introductory sections.
This belongs in Theology to the section on sin (locus
de peccato). But it is in place here to state definitely
that sin works its fatal effects also in the domain of our
science, and is by no means restricted to what is thelematic
(i.e. to the sphere of volition). What the Holy Scripture
calls, in Eph. iv. 17, 18, the "vanity of the mind," the
"having the understanding darkened, because of the igno
rance that is in them," even precedes the being "alienated
from the life of God because of the hardening of their heart."
Even without entering too deeply into the theological con
struction of this phenomenon, it may fearlessly be stated,
(1) that falsehood in every sense and form is now in the
world. And since more than one spiritual science hangs al
most exclusively upon personal communications, and since in
consequence of "falsehood" all absolute warrant for the trust
worthiness of these data be wanting, it is sufficiently evident
how greatly the certainty of these sciences suffers loss in con
sequence of sin. This will be more fully shown in our study
of the conception of "truth." For the present this single
suggestion must suffice. (2) Alongside of this actual
falsehood we have the unintentional mistake, in observa
tion and in memory, as well as in the processes of thought.
These mistakes may be reduced by manifold verifications
to a minimum in the material sciences, but can never be
absolutely avoided, while in the spiritual sciences they
practise such usury that escape from their influence is
impossible. (3) Self-delusion and self-deception are no less
important factors in this process, which renders nothing so
rare as a scientific self-knowledge, a knowledge of your own
person and character in more than a hypothetical form.
Since almost all deeper studies of the spiritual sciences start
out from the subjective image which we reflect of ourselves
in our own consciousness, it needs no further proof how
injuriously with the students of these sciences this self-
delusion and self-deception must affect their studies and

108 § 4o. SCIKNCK AM) SIX [Div. II

the final results. (4) A fourth evil resides in our
imagination. In a normal condition the self-consciousness
would be able at once accurately to indicate the boundary
line between what enters into our consciousness from the
real world without, and what is wrought in our conscious
ness by our imagination. But this boundary line is not
only uncertain because of sin, but in strongly impassioned
natures it is sometimes absolutely undiscoverable, so that
phantasy and reality frequently pass into one another. The
difficulty does not consist merely in the uncertainty or in
the destruction of this boundary line; the imagination itself
is in an abnormal condition. In one it works too weakly,
in another it is over-excited. When it is over-excited, it
retains its imperfect images, subjects our minds to the
dominion of these images, falsifies thereb}* our self-con
sciousness, so that the deliverance of our inner selves is
lost in this imagery. This imaginary world will then assert
its dominion over us, and weaken the susceptibility in us
for knowledge of ourselves and of the cosmos. (5) Equal ly
injurious are the influences which this abnormal element
in the condition of other minds exerts upon us, since this
evil, which by itself is already enough of a hindrance, is
thereby given a coefficient. Not only are we subject to
these influences from infancy, but our education frequently
tends intentionally to give them domination over us. Lan
guage also adds its contribution. Ail kinds of untruths have
entered into our every-day speech, and the names and words
we use unconsciously mould our self-consciousness. The
proverbs and common sayings (Schlag\vorter) which from
our youth up we have adopted as a sort of axioms affect us no
less strongly. "Truth defends itself" is what the ancients
said, and theologians of the ethical color take up the refrain,
but do not perceive that by this very thing our outlook upon
history is blurred and our sense of duty weakened. Even
in theological interests such an adage is bound to effect its
fallacious influence, in causing the transcendence of God to

be lost to our sense in a mere pantheistic consideration.
Add to this the several ideas and current expressions

CHAP. II] § 43. SCIENCE AND SIN 109

approved by the spirit of the times and inculcated in us, in
the face of the fact that they are fallacious, and it becomes
clear that our mind, which of itself lies ensnared in all
manner of deceptions, is threatened to be entirely misled.
(6) The effects worked by sin through the body claim here
an equal consideration. In consequence of sin there is
really no one in a normal bodily condition. All sorts of
wrong and sickly commotions bestir themselves in our body
and work their effect in our spiritual dispositions. They
make one to tend strongly to the material, and another too
strongly to the acosmic. They will make A a pessimist,
and B a light-hearted optimist. They also modify the judg
ment upon history, for instance, according to the influences
which we see at work upon persons. (7) Stronger still,
perhaps, is the influence of the sin-disorganized relation
ships of life, — an influence which makes itself especially felt
with the pedagogic and the social sciences. He who has had
his bringing-up in the midst of want and neglect will enter
tain entirely different views of jural relationships and social
regulations from him who from his youth has been bathed
in prosperity. Thus, also, your view of civil right would
be altogether different, if you had grown up under a des
potism, than if you had spent the years of early man
hood under the excesses of anarchism. To which (8) this
is yet to be added, that the different parts of the content
of our consciousness affect each other, and no one exists
atomistically in his consciousness. This entails the result
that the inaccuracies and false representations which you
have gleaned from one realm of life, affect injuriously again
the similarly mixed ideas which you have made your own
from another domain. And so this evil indefinitely multi
plies. Especially the leading thought which we have formed
in that realm of life that holds our chiefest interests, exer
cises a mighty dominion upon the whole content of our
consciousness, viz. our religious or political views, — what
used to be called one's life- and world-view, by which the
fundamental lines lie marked out in our consciousness. If,
then, we make a mistake, or a single inaccurate move, how

110 § 43. SCIENCE AND SIN [Div. II

can it fail but communicate itself disastrously to our entire
scientific study?

All this refers merely to the formal working of sin upon our
mind. But this is not all. Sin also works upon our conscious
ness through an endless variety of moral motives. kt Every
body preaches for his own parish" (cliacun preche pour so.
paroisse^) is the simple expression of the undeniable truth
that our outlook upon things is also governed by numerous
personal interests. An Englishman will look upon the his
tory of the Dutch naval battles with the British fleet very
differently from a Netherlandish historian ; not because each
purposely desires to falsify the truth, but because both are
unconsciously governed by national interests. A merchant
will naturally hold different views concerning free trade, fair
trade and protection, from the manufacturer, simply because
self-interests and trade-interests unconsciously affect his
views. A Roman Catholic has an entirely different idea of
the history of the Reformation from a Protestant's, not because
he purposely violates the truth, but simply because without
his knowing it his church interests lead him away from the
right path. Thus our physicians will readily be inclined to
think differently from the patients about the free practice of
medicine ; the jurist will judge the jury differently from the
free citizen; a man of noble birth will maintain a different
attitude toward democratic movements from that of a man
of the people. These are all moral differences, which are
governed by self-interests, and which sometimes work con
sciously and lead to the violation of conscience, but which
generally govern the result of our studies unconsciously and
unknown to us.

No word has yet been said of that third class of influences
which are essentially sinful because they result from the
injurious effect worked by sin immediately upon our nature.
The Christian Church confesses this to be the darkening of
the understanding ; which does not mean that we have lost
the capacity of thinking logically, for as far as the impulse
of its law of life is concerned, the logica lias not been
impaired by sin. When this takes place, a condition of

CHAP. II] § 43. SCIENCE AND SIN 111

insanity ensues. It must be granted that sin has weakened
the energy of thought, so that in all the fulness of its glories
this wondrous gift manifests itself only now and then in
a rare athlete; and it must be acknowledged that sin all
too often makes us the victims of a false and an apparently
logical, but in reality very unlogical, reasoning; but man
as man, or, if you please, the universal human conscious
ness, is always able to overcome this sluggishness and to
correct these mistakes in reasoning. No, the darkening of
the understanding consists in something else, and would be
better understood if we called it the darkening of our con
sciousness. Over against sin stands love, the sympathy of
existence, and even in our present sinful conditions the
fact is noteworthy, that where this sympathy is active you
understand much better and more accurately than where
this sympathy is wanting. A friend of children under
stands the child and the child life. A lover of animals
understands the life of the animal. In order to study
nature in its material operations, you must love her. With
out this inclination and this desire towrard the object of your
study, you do not advance an inch. Hence there is nothing
problematic in the fact that the Holy Scripture presents man
in his original state before he fell as having both by sympathy
and affinity a knowledge of nature, which is entirely lost by
us. And this is significant in every department of study. Sin
is the opposite of love. It has robbed us, speaking generally,
of all seeking sympathy, only to leave us this seeking love
within some single domain, and that in a very defective
form. But, taken as a whole, standing over against the
cosmos as its object, our mind feels itself isolated ; the object
lies outside of it, and the bond of love is wanting by which
to enter into and learn to understand it. This fatal effect
of sin must naturally find its deeper reason in the fact that
the life harmony between us and the object has been dis
turbed. What once existed organically, exists now conse
quently as foreign to each other, and this estrangement from
the object of our knowledge is the greatest obstacle in the
way to our knowledge of it.

112 §43. SCIENCE AND SIN [Div. II

But there is more. The disorganization which is the
result of sin consists not merely in the break in the natural
life-harmony between us and the cosmos, but also in a
break in the life-harmony in our own selves. More than one
string has been strung upon the instrument of our heart,
and each string has more than one tone. And its condition
is normal only when the different motives and tones of
our heart harmoniously affect one another. But such is no
longer the case. Disharmony rules in our innermost parts.
The different senses, in the utterances of our inner selves,
affect each other no longer in pure accord, but continually
block the way before each other. Thus discord arises in our
innermost selves. Everything has become disconnected.
And since the one no longer supports the other, but
antagonizes it, both the whole and its parts have lost their
purity. Our sense of the good, the true, the beautiful, of
what is right, of what is holy, has ceased to operate with ac
curacy. In themselves these senses are weakened, and in
their effect upon each other they have become mixed. And
since it is impossible, in the spiritual sciences, to take one
forward step unless these senses serve us as guides, it readily
appears how greatly science is obstructed by sin.

And finally, the chiefest harm is the ruin, worked by sin,
in those data, which were at our command, for obtaining
the knowledge of God, and thus for forming the conception
of the whole. Without the sense of God in the heart no
one shall ever attain unto a knowledge of God, and with
out love, or, if you please, a holy sympathy for God, that
knowledge shall never be rich in content. Every effort to
prove the existence of God by so-called evidences must
fail and lias failed. By this we do not mean that the
knowledge of God must be mystic; for as soon as this knowl
edge of God is to be scientifically unfolded, it must be repro
duced from our thinking consciousness. But as our science in
no single instance can take one forward step, except a bridge
is built between the subject and the object, it cannot do so
here. If thus in our sense of self there is no sense of the
existence of God. and if in our spiritual existence there is

CHAP. II] § 43. SCIENCE AND SIN 113

no bond which draws us to God, and causes us in love to go
out unto him, all science is here impossible. If, now, experi
ence shows that this sense has not worn away entirely, and that
this impulse has not ceased altogether, but that, in virtue of
its own motive, sin has weakened this sense to such an extent
as to render it oftentimes unrecognizable, and has so falsi
fied this impulse, that all kinds of religious emotions go
hand in hand with hatred of God, it is plain that every
scientific reproduction of the knowledge of God must fail,
as long as this sense remains weakened and this impulse
falsified in its direction. From which it follows at the same
time that the knowledge of the cosmos as a whole, or, if you
please, philosophy in a restricted sense, is equally bound to
founder upon this obstruction wrought by sin. Suppose that
you had succeeded in attaining an adequate knowledge of all
the parts of the cosmos, the product of these results would
not yet give you the adequate knowledge of the whole.
The whole is always something different from the combina
tion of its parts. First because of the organic relation which
holds the parts together ; but much more because of the
entirely new questions which the combination of the whole
presents : questions as to the origin and end of the whole ;
questions as to the categories which govern the object in
its reflection in your consciousness ; questions as to absolute
being, and as to what wow-cosmos is. In order to answer
these questions, you must subject the whole cosmos to your
self, your own self included; in order to do this in your
consciousness you must step out from the cosmos, and you
must have a starting-point (So? poi irov O-TW) in the non-
cosmos; and this is altogether impossible as long as sin
confines you with your consciousness to the cosmos.

From which it by no means follows, that you should
sceptically doubt all science, but simply that it will not do
to omit the fact of sin from your theory of knowledge.
This would not be warranted if sin were only a thelematic
conception and therefore purely ethic ; how much less, now,
since immediately as well as mediately, sin modifies so
largely all those data with which you have to deal in the

114 § 44. TRUTH [Div. II

intellectual domain and in the building-up of your science.
Ignorance wrought by sin is the most difficult obstacle in
the way of all true science.

§ 44. Truth

In a preceding section reference has already been made to
the grave significance to scientific investigation of the con
ception which one forms of "truth." This significance can
now be considered more closely in relation to the fact of sin.
It will not do to say that seeking after truth is directed ex
clusively against the possibility of mistake. He who in good
faith has made a mistake, has been inaccurate but not untrue.
Falsehood is merely a milder expression for the lie, and the
search after truth has no other end in view than escape from
the fatal power of what Christ called the lie (TO ^euSo? ) .
This does not imply that "the mistake " does not stand
equally related to sin. The former section tried to prove the
contrary. But if the unconscious mistake stands in causal
relation to sin, this relation is entirely different from what it
is with the lie. The Holy Scripture teaches us to recognize
an unholy principle in the lie, from which a caricature
(Zerrbild) of all things is born, and the fatherhood of this
lie is pointed out to us in Satan. In John viii. 44, we
read : "The devil speaketh a lie — for he is a liar and the
father thereof." This theological explanation need not detain
us now, but it cannot be denied that a false representation
of the real has made its way into almost every department
of life ; that with a closer investigation these several false
representations appear to stand in an organic relation ; and
that a hidden impelling power is at work within this entire
domain of the false and the untrue, which arouses our right
eous indignation and bears a sinful character for our conscious
ness. The form of this spuriousness is not constant. It often
happens that certain general ideas govern public opinion for
a long time and then become discredited ; that they maintain
themselves a little longer with the less educated masses ;
and finally pass away altogether, so that he who still holds
them is out of date. But with this shedding of its skin the

CHAP. II] § 44. TRUTH 115

serpent does not die. And Proteus-like, the false and untrue
reappear in a new form, and the battle of life and death
between truth and falsehood begins anew. Obviously, there
fore, the lie is no mistake, nor a temporary dominating
untruth, but a power, which affects injuriously the conscious
ness of man, and not merely puts into his hands phantasy
for reality, and fiction for history, but intentionally brings
into our mind a representation of existing things which
proscribes reality, with the avowed aim of estranging us
from it.

In this condition of affairs a holy interest is at stake in
this struggle for the truth. This conflict does not aim at
the correction of simple mistakes in the representation,
neither does it combat prejudice, nor rectify inaccuracies ;
but it arrays itself against a power, which ever in a new form
entangles our human consciousness in that which is false,
makes us servants to falsehood, and blinds us to reality.
Thus the saying of Christ, " I am the truth," has a deep
significance ; since he alone possessed such spiritual power
of resistance that he was able to withdraw himself abso
lutely from the dominion of the false. The word " lie " it
self confirms this interpretation. In our daily life this evil
word is almost never used in circles where the lie is contra
band ; while on the other hand, in circles which, alas, admit
the lie as a common weapon of defence, the contention for
true or untrue is constantly in order with the reproachful
epithet of " you lie." If you think of life in heaven, you
perceive at once that every effort to establish truth falls
away. Who would enter the arena in behalf of truth, in a
place where the lie is not conceivable ? Neither can truth have
had a place among the conceptions which were originally
common to man in the state of his innocence. As long as
sin had not entered the heart, there could be no impulse
to defend truth against the lie which had as yet no exist
ence. In entire accordance with this the Scriptural narra
tive of the fall presents Satan as the first to whisper the lie,
that what God had said was not true, and that moment
marks the beginning of the conflict for the truth.

116 §44. TRUTH [Div. II

Hence it is none too strongly said, that the struggle for
"truth" is legitimately only a result of sin. Science is
entirely different from truth. If you imagine our human
development without sin, the impulse to know and understand
the cosmos, and by this knowledge to govern it, would have
been the same ; but there would have been no search after
truth, simply because there could have been no danger of re
lying upon falsehood as a result of investigation. In our
sinful condition, however, while the human consciousness is
constantly ensnared in falsehood, from the very nature of
the case science has the twofold calling, not only to investi
gate and understand the object, but also to banish the false
representations of it.

But this is easier said than done, and as soon as you leave
the material domain you see different men, who from their
point of view are honest in their purposes, and whose talents
for investigation are fairly equal, arrive at as many different
and sometimes directly opposite results. This is less to be
feared in the domain of pure matter, at least as long as one
confines himself to the mere statement of what has been ob
served, and draws no inferences from his observations. As
soon, however, as investigations reach the point where the
reinforced eye and ear are no longer able to observe with abso
lute certainty, disputes may arise, though this has nothing
to do with falsehood ; and when, after all the applause that
hailed Dr. Koch's preparation for tuberculosis, it was shown
that this preparation not only failed of its purpose, but even
caused injurious effects, he had to acknowledge it. When
facts spoke, illusion was ended. It is entirely different, how
ever, when one comes in contact with the wo^-material domain
of life. The science of statistics, on which it was thought we
could so safely build, is shown to be largely untrustworthy.
And when we enter the domain of the real spiritual sciences,
the most objective observation, such as the examination of
documents, and the statement of a few tangible facts, are
scarcely ended, but ideas everywhere separate, and there is no
more objective certainty to compel universal homage, which
can brincr about a unity of settled result. This is not found

CHAP. II] § 44. TRUTH 117

in the domain of psychology; or of philosophy in the narrower
sense ; or of history ; or of law ; or in any spiritual domain
whatever. Because here the subjective factor becomes pre
ponderant ; and this subjective factor is dependent upon the
antithesis between falsehood and truth ; so that both the
insight into the facts and the structure which one builds
upon this insight must differ, and at length become, first
contrary and then contradictory.

The fatality of the antithesis between falsehood and truth
consists in this, that every man from his point of view claims
the truth for himself, and applies the epithet of "untrue" to
everything that opposes this. Satan began by making God
the liar and by presenting himself as the speaker of truth.
And for our demonstration this applies more emphatically
still to the custom among men ; especially since in this section
we speak exclusively of those persons who devote themselves
to scientific research. Though we grant that in science also
wilful mutilation of facts is not altogether wanting, it must be
accepted, as a rule, that he who announces himself as a man
of science is disposed to take things as they are, and to deal
with them accordingly. Nobody writes a scientific thesis
with the purpose of propagating falsehood ; the purpose of
all scientific labor is to champion the truth. And from this
very fact it follows that where two scientific men arrive at
directly opposite results, each will see the truth in his own
result, and falsehood in the result of his opponent, and both
will deem it their duty to fight in the defence of what
seems to them the truth, and to struggle against what seems
to them the lie. If this concerns a mere point of detail, it
has no further results; but if this antithesis assumes a more
universal and radical character, school will form itself against
school, system against system, world-view against world-
view, and two entirely different and mutually exclusive
representations of the object, each in organic relation, will
come at length to dominate whole series of subjects. From
both sides it is said: "Truth is with us, and falsehood with
you." And the notion that science can settle this dispute is
of course entirely vain, for we speak of two all-embracing

118 § 44. TRUTH [Div. II

representations of the object, both of which have been ob
tained as the result of very serious scientific study.

If the objection be raised that science has cleared away
whole series of fallacious representations, we repeat that
this concerned the forms only in which the lie for a time
lay concealed, but that that same lie, and therefore the same
antithesis against truth, is bound to raise its head in new
forms with indestructible power. All sorts of views, which
for centuries have been considered dead, are seen to rise
again resuscitated in our age. As far as principle is con
cerned and the hidden impulse of these antitheses, there is
nothing new under the sun ; and he who knows history and
men, sees the representatives of long-antiquated world-views
walk our streets to-day, and hears them lecture from the
platform. The older and newer philosophers, the older and
newer heresies, are as like each other, if you will pardon the
homely allusion, as two drops of water. To believe that an
absolute science in the above-given sense can ever decide
the question between truth and falsehood is nothing but a
criminal self-deception. He who affirms this, always takes
science as it proceeds from his own subjective premises and
as it appears to him, and therefore eo ipso stigmatizes every
scientific development which goes out from other premises
as pseudo-science, serviceable to the lie. The antithesis of
principles among Theism, Pantheism, and Atheism domi
nates all the spiritual sciences in their higher parts, and as
soon as the students of these sciences come to defend what
is true and combat what is false, their struggle and its
result are entirely governed by their subjective starting-
point.

In connection witli the fact of sin, from which the whole
antithesis between truth and falsehood is born, this phenome
non presents itself in such a form that one recognizes the
fact of sin, and that the other denies it or does not reckon
with it. Thus what is normal to one is absolutely abnormal
to the other. This establishes for each an entirely different
standard. And where both go to work from such subjective
standards, the science of each must become entirelv different.

CHAP. II] § 45. WISDOM 119

and the unity of science is gone. The one cannot be forced
to accept what the other holds as truth, and what according
to his view he has found to be truth.

Thus, taken by itself, the triumph of Scepticism ought to
result from this, and Pilate's exclamation, "What is truth,"
should be the motto of highest wisdom. But the process of
history is a protest against this. However often Scepticism
has lifted up its head, it has never been able to maintain a
standing for itself, and with unbroken courage and indefati
gable power of will thinking humanity has ever started out
anew upon the search after truth. And this fact claims an
explanation.

§ 45. Wisdom

The threatening and of itself almost necessary dominion
of Scepticism, stranded first upon the ever more or less prob
lematical phenomenon which is called Wisdom. In order to
appreciate the meaning of this phenomenon, the combina
tion " philo-sophia " should not claim our first attention,
since it identifies " wisdom " too greatly with " science," and
the leading characteristic of " wisdom " is that it is not the
result of discursive thought. An uneducated and even an
illiterate man may convey in large measure the impression of
being a wise man ; while, on the other hand, scientifically
developed persons often fall short in wisdom of sense. The
etymology of the words, by which the conception of " wis
dom " is expressed in different languages, makes this dis
tinction between a scientific disposition and a disposition for
wisdom to be clearly seen. Wisdom (sapientia) and science
(scientia) are not the same. Sapere means to taste, to try,
and in its metaphoric use points to a knowledge of things
which expresses itself not theoretically, but practically, and
works intuitively. The Greek word ero'^o? (wisdom), in con
nection with o-<z(£?79, <7a7r/309, and perhaps with OTTO'?, belongs
evidently to the same root, and points also to a radical-word
which indicated the action of smelling or tasting. The Ger
manic word " wise " takes no account with the origin of this
peculiar knowledge, but with its outcome. Wisel is the well-
known name of the queen of the bees, who, taking the lead,

120 $45. WISDOM [Div. II

by this superiority governs the entire swarm. Here also the
practical element of knowledge appears in the foreground.
He is wise who knows and sees how things must go, and
who for this reason is followed by others. With the limited
development of Semitic etymology, the Hebrew expression
D3H is less clear, but from the description which the Chok-
matic writings give us of this " wisdom," it appears the more
convincingly that the Hebrew understood this wisdom to
be something entirely different from what we call scientific
development, and in this conception thought rather of a
practical-intuitive understanding. The derivation of !"Cn,
which means to cleave to something, would agree very well
with this, as an indication of the spirit's sympathy with
the object from which this Chokmatic knowledge is born.
Phrases which are in common use with us, also, such as, for
instance : " You have wisely left it alone," " When the wine
is in the man, wisdom is in the can" ; " He is a wise man" :
or the Bible-text : " If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask
of God"; all agree entirely with this etymological result.
The root-idea always appears to be, that one possesses a
certain natural understanding of the nature and process of
things, and understands the art of accommodating himself
to them in practical life. Wisdom has nothing to do,
therefore, with intellectual abstraction, but clings immedi
ately to the reality, proceeds from it and works out an effect
upon it. But again, it is not artistic skill, nor what is called
talent, for it is not the action which proceeds from the
insight but the insight itself which stands in the fore
ground. Wisdom is the quiet possession of insight which
imparts power, and is at the disposal of the subject, even
when this subject is not called to action. Wisdom is also
distinguished from artistic skill and talent, in that it bears
an universal character. Me who excels in a certain depart
ment of science is not wi*e, neither is he wise who excels
in a certain trade. Such an one-sided development of .skill
is rather opposed to the root-idea of wisdom. He who is
wise, is centrally wise, i.e. he has a general disposition of
mind which, whatever comes, enables him to have an accu-

CHAP. II] §45. WISDOM 121

rate view of things, in conformity with which to choose and
act with tact and with discretion. As the result, therefore,
it may be stated that entirely apart from the development
of science, there is in certain persons an aprioristic, not
acquired, general insight, which in its efficient, practical
excellence shows itself in harmony with the reality of things.
But if among your acquaintances you meet with but few
persons who have this insight to such an extent as to entitle
them to the epithet of "wise folk," all the others are not
fools ; and yet only this antithetical conception of foolish
ness elucidates sufficiently the exact conception of wisdom.
A. fool and a lunatic are not the same. An insane man is he
whose consciousness works in the wrong way, so that all
normal insight has become impossible for him. A fool, on
the other hand, is he whose consciousness works normally,
but who himself stands so crookedly over against the reality
of things, that he makes mistake upon mistake and con
stantly makes the wrong move on the chess-board of life.
He acts foolishly who makes an evident mistake in his
representation of reality, and who in consequence of his
noticeable lack of accurate insight, chooses the very thing
that will serve him a wrong end. He lacks the proper
relation to the reality, and this accounts for his mistakes.
Between these "wise folk" and these "fools" stands the
great mass of humanity, who in all possible gradations
form the transition from the wise to the foolish ; while
among these general masses is found what used to be called
a sound mind, common sense, le sens commun. This implies
something that does not scale the heights of wisdom, but
which, nevertheless, maintains a relation to it and offers a gen
eral basis for it. We grant that, more especially since the close
of the last century, this expression " common sense " has
been used synonymously with that analogous " public opin
ion " in which the weakened form of Rationalism reflected
itself, and that this spectre has repeatedly been evoked to
banish idealism, to mock the faith, and to hush every nobler
feeling; but this was simple abuse. Originally, "common
sense " meant by no means the iteration of the program of

122 §45. WISDOM [Div. II

a particular school, but, on the contrary, a certain accuracy
of tact, by which, in utter disregard of the pretensions of
the schools, public opinion followed a track which turned
neither too far to the right nor to the left. This weakened
wisdom, which generally directs the course of life, occasion
ally forsook public opinion, and this gave foolishness the
upper hand, and mad counsels free courses ; but, in the long
run, common sense almost always gained the day. And in
individual persons it is found, that if the particular a wise
folk " be excluded, one class is inclined to foolishness, while
another class remains subject to the influence of a weakened
wisdom, and the latter are said to be the people of common
sense; a term which does not so much express a personal
gift (charisma), as the fact that they sail in safe channels.
If the phenomenon itself be thus sufficiently established,
the question arises, how, culminating in ivisclom and finding
its antithesis \nfolly, this phenomenon of '-common sense"
is to be psychologically interpreted. It is not the fruit of
early training, it is not the result of study, neither is it
the effect of constant practice. Though it is granted that
these three factors facilitate and strengthen the clear opera
tions of this common sense and of this wisdom, the phenome
non itself does not find its origin in them. Two young men,
brought up in the same social circle, of like educational
advantages and of similar experience, will differ widely
in point of wisdom ; one will become a wise man, while
with the other life will be a constant struggle. Thus we
have to do with a certain capacity of the human mind,
which is not introduced into it from without, but which is
present in that mind as such, and abides there. The Dutch
language lias the beautiful word " be-s?/-fen " (to sense),
which etymologically is connected with the root of srt/>ientia,
and indicates a certain immediate affinity to that which
exists outside of us. In this sense prudence and wisdom are
innate; not an innate conception, but an insight which pro
ceeds immediately from the affinity in which by nature we
stand to the world about us, and to the world of higher
things. Both point to a condition in which, if we may so

CHAP. II] § 45. WISDOM 123

express it, man felt Nature's pulse beat; in which he shared
the life of every animate thing, and so perceived and un
derstood it ; and in which, moreover, he also apprehended
the higher life not as something foreign to himself, but as
" sensing " it in his own sense of existence. Or if we look
ahead, both phenomena lie in the line, at whose end the
seeing (Oe&pelv) is reached, "the knowing as we are known."
The energy of this intuition is now broken. With some it
seems entirely lost, and these are called "fools." With
some others it still wrorks comparatively with great effect,
for which reason they are called, preeminently, the wise folk.
And between these extremes range the people of common
sense ; so called because in them something is still found
of the old, sound, primitive force (Urkraft) of the human
mind.

Now it is readily seen what a formidable dam wisdom and
common sense prove against the destructive floods of Scepti
cism. If there were no other way open to knowledge than that
which discursive thought provides, the subjective character
which is inseparable from all higher science, the uncer
tainty which is the penalty of sin, and the impossibility be
tween truth and falsehood to decide what shall be objectively
compulsory would encourage Scepticism to strike ever deeper
root. But since an entirely different way of knowledge is
disclosed to us by wisdom and its allied common sense,
which, independent of scientific investigation, has a start
ing-point of its own, this intuitive knowledge, founded on
fixed perceptions given with our consciousness itself, offers
a saving counterpoise to Scepticism. For now we have a
certain insight, and on the ground of this insight a relative
certainty, which has no connection with the discursive con
flict between truth and falsehood, and which, being constantly
confirmed in the fiery test of practical application in daily
life, gives us a starting-point by which the conviction main
tains itself in us that we are able to grasp the truth of
things. And since this ivisdom and common sense determine
those very issues and principles of life, against which scepti
cism directs its most critical and important attacks, we find

124 §45. WISDOM [Div. II

in this phenomenon, so mysterious in itself, a saving strength
which enables the human mind to effect its escape from the
clutches of Scepticism. This wisdom can never supersede
discursive thought, nor can it take the place of empiricism,
but it has the general universal tendency to exclude follies
from the processes of discursive thought, and in empirical
investigation to promote the accuracy of our tact.

In answer to the objection that it is difficult to harmonize
this interpretation of "wisdom" with the conception of aotyia
in our word "philosophy" (</>tXoo-o(/>ta), we observe that for
a just criticism of this apparent objection we must go back
to the original conception of " wisdom " as held by the
Greeks, and to the most ancient meaning of the combination
of faXelv witli this word. As for " wisdom," we refer first
of all to the noteworthy sentence of lleraclitus: ao^u) aX??-
dea \eyeiv teal iroielv Kara <$>VCTLV eTratWra?, i.e. " Wisdom con
sists in knowing how to speak the truth, and how to live
according to nature," in which the last words especially
indicate that " wisdom " is taken as ripening from a natural
instinct, while the verb "to live" (jroLtlv) exhibits its prac
tical character. With Thales only it was thought that
•• wisdom " also bore a somewhat theoretical character. See
Plutarch's Life of /Solon, 3, 9: "And, on the whole, it is
likely that the conception of wisdom was at that time carried
further by Solon alone, in speculation, than its significance in
common use ; but in the case of others the name ' wisdom '
arose from its use in civil affairs." What Xenophon narrates
conceiving Socrates leads to the same conclusion. See Xen.
Mem. III. 9, 4: "(Socrates) did not separate (i.e. distin
guish between) wisdom and prudence," even in this sense
that " Those who do not act rightly he considered neither
wise nor prudent." Undoubtedly with Plato it is already
"A possession of the truth in contemplation" (p. 414, ?>),
and with Aristotle, "The science of tilings divine and
human ': but this is not the original conception. With the
oldest philosophers we do not find the mention of a phi
losophy which is the result of investigation. Their philoso-
phv is rather an exposition of their insight into the relation

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH 125

of things, in the elaboration of which they deal more freely
with their phantasy than with empiricism. Even in the
word " theory " this ancient meaning of the wisdom-concep
tion is still active. Etymologically, "theoria" refers to
intuition, and as such it has nothing in common with the
idea which we attach to the theoretical.

§ 46. Faith

Even more effectually than by " wisdom " Scepticism is
counteracted by "faith" (Trt'o-n?). Faith in this connection
is taken formally, and hence considered quite apart from all
content. By " faith " here, then, we do not mean the " faith
in Christ Jesus " in its saving efficacy for the sinner, nor yet
the " faith in God " which is fundamental to all religion,
but that formal function of the life of our soul which is
fundamental to every fact in our human consciousness.
The common antithesis between " faith and knowledge "
places the content obtained by faith in contrast to the con
tent obtained by knowledge. Thus we face two dissimilar
magnitudes, which are susceptible neither of comparison nor
of amalgamation. We encounter iron and clay, as Daniel
pictures it; elements which refuse to intermingle. To take a
position with reference also to this antithesis, it is necessary
that we go back to the formal function of faith, and inves
tigate whether this function does or does not exhibit an
universal character. For if it does, this universal function
of faith must also influence that particular function by
which the scientific result is obtained, and the extent is
traceable to which the function of faith is able to exert
itself, as well as the point where its working stops. We
purposely consider this function of faith, next to wisdom,
as a similar reaction against Scepticism. All Scepticism
originates from the impression that our certainty depends
upon the result of our scientific research. Since, however,
this result constantly appears to be governed by subjective
influences, and is affected by the conflict between truth
and falsehood which is the result of sin, there is no defence
against Scepticism except in the subject itself. The defence

126 § 4G. FAITH [Div. II

against Scepticism which the subject provides, can prove no
benefit to our science, except it is evident that this defence
bears no individual-subjective character; but that in its
real significance it belongs to the subject as such, and may
therefore be called subjective in a general and communal
sense. And faith exhibits this character.

In the explanation of this two difficulties present them
selves, which we must not allow to overshadow us. The
first difficulty is, that faith is a conception which has been
introduced into our common speech, especial!)' from the New
Testament, and has received thereby a religious, and in a
more restricted sense a soteriological, stamp. Thus under
stood, this conception has no place in our Erkenntniss-theo-
rie, and the appearance is given that faith bears no universal
character at all. The second difficulty is, that profane
literature almost never uses the conception of faith tech
nically, and hence attaches no definite meaning to it. The
old philosophy, for instance, never deals with faith as with
a special function of the soul. It appears, however, as if
Pythagoras attached something more to this conception and
that he classified it, as we learn in Tlteol. Aritlnn. X., p. GO,
how the Pythagoreans "in their mystical explanations called
it (i.e. TTicrri?) at one time the world ; at another, the heavens :
still again, the universe ; then again, fate and eternity ; and,
yet again, might, faith, necessity "; yet this appears to be the
case in a very superficial sense only, since of this TTICTTIS at
once this more exact explanation is given in TJieol. Arith/n.,
p. 61: "The number Ten indeed is called belief (or faith),
since according to Philolaos by (the number) Ten, and its
parts, which have to do primarily witli realities, we have a
clear idea of Belief." It may not be denied that Philolaos
saw that in some instances faith stands on a line with avdy/cij
(necessity); but he makes no mention of a general applica
tion of this conception.

Neither of these two difficulties, however, should prevent
us from making a more general application of this conception.
Not the difficulty derived from the Holy Scriptures, since
Ileb. xi. 1 anticipates our wish to restore faith to its more

CHAP. II] §46. FAITH 127

general meaning. There Ave read that faith is "the assur
ance (uTTOo-racri?) of things hoped for, the proving (e'Xe7%o?)
of things not seen." Thus faith is here taken neither in
an exclusively religious sense, much less in a soteriological
significance, but very generally as an " assurance " and " prov
ing " of objects which escape our perception, either because
they do not yet exist (ra eXirifypeva), or because they do
not show themselves (TO, fir) /3\€7ro/j,eva). Far from exclud
ing, therefore, a more general interpretation, the Scripture
itself calls our attention to it. And as for the backwardness
of profane literature in defining this conception more exactly,
the above-quoted saying of the Pythagoreans shows that the
idea of taking up faith as a link in a demonstration was not
entirely foreign to the ancients ; and this appears stronger
still from what Plutarch writes (Mor. 756, 5), " that in di
vine things no demonstration (aTro'Saft?) is to be obtained,"
and that it is not needed, " For the traditional and ancient
faith is sufficient ; than which it is not possible to express
nor discover a clearer proof ; but this is, in itself, a sort of
underlying common foundation and support for piety," —
words which, although limited to the domain of religion, and
rather used in connection with tradition, nevertheless betray
a definite agreement with the teaching of Heb. xi. 1, and
place faith as the ground of certainty over against " assur
ance."

Neither the etymology of irians and the words synony
mous with it in other languages, nor the use of these words,
prove any obstacle in the way of this general application.
Faith with the root-idea of Treidco (to persuade), and in con
nection with the derivatives TTKTTO?, 7rtaTo'a>, Trevro [6rjcn<$, ajrei-
Oeco, a7m#7^?, and cnrelffeia, points etymologically to an action
by which our consciousness is forced to surrender itself, and
to hold something for true, to confide in something and to
obey something. Here, then, we have nothing but a certain
power which is exercised upon our consciousness, to which it
is forced to subject itself. Upon our consciousness, which is
first unstable, uncertain, and tossed about, a check is placed
which puts an end to uncertainty. There is a restraint irn-

128 § 40. FAITH [Div. II

posed on us from which we cannot escape. Or, as far as our
consciousness itself desires this stability, this " underlying
foundation and support" (e£/?a ical /Satn? vfaa-Twa-a), as Plu
tarch expressed it, or, as Ileb. xi. 1 states it, this "assur
ance " and this "proving" are offered us. Where the action
of the Treideiv (persuasion) is ended, certainty is obtained.
In the middle voice Treidea-Oai (to be persuaded) expresses the
function of the soul by which it establishes itself in that sta
bility. And faith therefore may express this certainty itself,
as well as the action by which I grasp it. The same root-
idea lies in I^KH- j^ (amen) is that which stands fast and
does not change. The Hiphil expresses that by which this
certainty is born in us. And our believing conies from a dif
ferent source, but it allows the self-same universal tendency.
With the Latin lubet, allied to the Sanscrit lubh, which
means to appropriate something to oneself, and which stands
in immediate connection with the Dutch words lieven and
loven, it points to a cleaving to something, to holding fast
to something, and to being linked to it by an inner sym
pathy. Thus in be-lieving the relation is more prominent
than in Trtcm? or in H31E8, but that relation is taken as
something not uncertain, but certain. He who cleaves to
something holds himself fast to it, leans upon and trusts in
it : while in this believing lies the fine secondary meaning,
that this cleaving unto, this holding fast to, is accom
plished by an inward impulse. And if the etymology of
any of these expressions does not prevent a more general
application of this word, the difficulty presented in the
accepted use of these words is equally insignificant. Not
only was this TTLCTTLV e^eiv (to have faith), a current term in
Greek, applied to every department of life, and the tendency
of p^KH almost wider still (see, for instance, Deut. xxviii. 66,
Judges xi. 20, etc.), but, what is more noteworthy, in our
Christian society the use of the word " to believe " is limited
so little to the religious and soteriological domain, that even
more than "to have faith" the term "to believe " has be
come common property for every relation.

There is no objection, therefore, to the use of the term faith

CIIAI-. II] § 46. FAITH 129

for that function of the soul ($•»%£) by which it obtains cer
tainty directly and immediately, without the aid of discursive
demonstration. This places faith over against "demonstra
tion " ; but not of itself over against knoiving. This would
be so, if our knowledge and its content came to us exclu
sively by observation and demonstration, but, as we tried to
prove in § 37, this is not so. To know and knowledge, to know
and understanding, are not the same. I knoiv all those things
the existence of which, together with some relations of this
existence, is actual fact to me. No demonstration can ever
establish with mathematical certainty the question that gov
erns your whole life, — who it is that has begotten you ;
and yet under ordinary circumstances no one hesitates to
declare, "I know that this man is my father." For though
men may talk here of the theory of probabilities, it is not at
all to the point. A proof proves only what it proves defi
nitely and conclusively, and everything which in the end
misses this conclusive character is not obtained by your
demonstration but from elsewhere; and this other source of
certainty is the very point in question. Or rather, — for
even now we do not speak with sufficient emphasis, — this
other source, which we call faith, is the only source of cer
tainty, equally for what you prove definitely and conclusively
by demonstration.

That this is not generally so understood can only be ex
plained from the fact that, in the search after the means at
our command by which to obtain knowledge, the investi
gation is abandoned before it is finished. The building is
examined, and its foundation, and sometimes even the piles
that are underneath, but the ground on which the lowest
points of these piles rest is not explored. Or to state it in
another way, let us say that the need is felt of a continuous
line drawn from the outermost point in the periphery of the
object to the centre of your ego; but when the ego is as
nearly reached as possible, the distance which still separates
us from it is not bridged ; we simply vault the gulf. And
this is not lawful, because it is illogical. Of necessity
a chain must fall when a single link is wanting; for the

130 § 4G. FAITH [Div. II

two links which it ought to connect lose their point of
union.

This comes out at once in the self-consciousness by which
we say I. A child, in which self-consciousness has not yet
awakened, speaks of itself in the third person. There is
some thinking in the child, and a certain amount of knowl
edge, but it is not yet his possession. There is a property,
but the owner is still anonymous. Meanwhile, this self-
consciousness is an impenetrable mystery to us. To say that
it originates through comparison is a vain attempt to soothe
oneself with words, for the very subject to be compared is
here in question. Neither can it be said that self-consciousness
is identical with the nature of our soul, for then it ought also
to be active in the child, and ought to stay with us under all
circumstances of life, and that sort of insanity by which one
thinks himself to be another would annul our human nature.
Self-consciousness, therefore, is an entirely unaccountable
phenomenon in the life of the soul, which reveals its activity
only at a certain age, which sometimes may slumber, and
may lose itself for years in insanity. It is a phenomenon
that stays by us in the unconscious condition of our sleep,
for in our dreams also it is ourselves who suffer anxiety and
all things move themselves about our person. Neither is
this self-consciousness an accidental something to that science
which we seek to obtain. On this self-consciousness hangs
the subject that investigates, and without that subject
no investigation is conceivable. He with whom this self-
conscioasness is still wanting is, like the child, unable
to separate himself from the object, and equally unable
to draw conclusions from his inward perceptions. Thus
the starting-point actually lies in this self-consciousness,
and there must ever be a gap if this self-consciousness
be not duly considered. From this it also follows, that
without faith you miss the starting-point of all knowledge.
The expression, "you must believe in yourself," has cer
tainly been abused in humanistic circles to weaken both the
denial of ourselves and our faith in God, but it is actually
the case that he who does not begin by believing in himself

CHAP. II] §46. FAITH 131

cannot progress a single step. Nothing but faith can ever
give you certainty in your consciousness of the existence of
your ego; and every proof to the sum, which you might
endeavor to furnish by the exhibition of your will, or if
need be by the revelation of your ill will, etc., will have no
force of demonstration, except before all things else, on
the ground of faith, the knowledge of your ego is established
for yourself. In the cogito ergo sum the logical fault has
indeed long since been shown. The ego, which is to be
proved in the sum, is already assumed in the premise by the
cogito.

But the indispensableness of faith goes much farther, and
it may safely be said that with the so-called exact sciences
there is no investigation, nor any conclusion conceivable
except in so far as the observation in the investigation and
the reasoning in the conclusion are grounded in faith. Xo
play is intended here on the word " faith." Faith is taken by
us in its most real sense. By faith you are sure of all those
things of which you have a firm conviction, but which con
viction is not the outcome of observation or demonstration.
This may result from indolence by which you apply the
much easier and ever ready faith, where the more arduous
duty of observation and demonstration is demanded. But
this is the abuse of faith, which should ever be reproved.
In this abuse, however, the formal character of faith remains
inviolate. Properly used or misused, faith is and always
will be a means of becoming firmly convinced of a thing,
and of making this conviction the starting-point of conduct,
while for this conviction no empirical or demonstrative proof
is offered or found. Faith can never be anything else but
an immediate act of our consciousness, by which certainty is
established in that consciousness on any point outside of
observation or demonstration. " The ground on which your
faith rests," and "the ulterior ground of your faith," are
often spoken of, but in all such expressions faith itself is not
meant, but only its content, and this does not concern us
now. Faith here is taken merely as the means or instrument
by which to possess certainty, and as such it not only needs

132 § 40. FAITH [Div. II

no demonstration, but nllo\vs none. And in that sen.se \ve
referred to it in the iirst place, as the certainty concern
ing our ego in our own self-consciousness, which precedes
every act of thought or observation, and which can only
be established in us by faith, or, if you please, is not ac
quired by us, but is a received good, of which no account
can be given.

This is equally true of the starting-point of perception.
All perception takes place through the senses, whether you
allow them to act naturally, or whether you reinforce
them by a technical apparatus. The case, however, is not
that our senses perceive, for our ego perceives by means of
those senses. The sick man who lies in bed with his eyes
wide open, but whose mind is affected, perceives nothing :
even though the images of his surroundings are reflected on
the retina of his eyes. While you sleep, many sounds
may vibrate in the air-waves of your room, but not waken
you to hear and perceive them. To stop short with the
senses is, therefore, both unscientific and superficial. The
way of knowledge certainly leads through the senses, but
it extends farther. It is also continued from the sense
through the nerves and the brain, and back of these out of
our sensorial avenues to that mysterious something which
we call our consciousness, and, in the centrum of that con
sciousness, to what we call our ego. The students of t la-
so-called exact sciences, who think that their as yet un-
demonstrated, immediate knowledge of the object rests ex
clusively upon the action of the senses, are thus entirely
mistaken, and allow themselves a leap to which they have
no right. If their ego is to obtain knowledge of the object,
they must not stop with the action of the senses, but ask
how the ego acquires certainty of the reality of the percep
tion. By means of your senses, you receive sensations and
impressions ; but in your consciousness the result of this
consists of forms, images, shapes, and figures, which are not
dissimilar to those which loom up before your mind outside
of perception, — in imagination, in dreams, or in moments of
ecstasy. Your perception by means of your senses acquires

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH 133

value only when you know that your senses gave you
movements in your sensorial nerve-life, which came from
a real object, and in their changes and successions are
caused by the state of this object. Actually it amounts
to this: that your ego believes in your senses. If by faith
the action of your senses is brought into the relation of
certainty with your ego, then you can depend upon per
ception by means of your senses, but not before. And
the perception of faith and the certainty which it gives
are so forcible that, as a rule, we grasp immediately the
distinction between the products of dream, fancy and of
perception. The action of faith becomes weaker when the
condition of mind becomes abnormal, as in delirium of
fever, in moments of anxiety, in hypochondria, or sudden
insanity ; then a feeling of uncertainty overtakes us as
to what we perceive or think we perceive, which we know
nothing of in a normal condition, when faith works regu
larly. It must be granted that wilful deception may tempt
us to take for real what exists merely in appearance, but
even these ever more or less humiliating experiences do
not hinder us from resuming immediately our normal stand
on reality, thanks to this faith. He who was deceived
by the apparition of a ghost, which he afterward discovered
to be unreal, will not be uncertain whether a runaway horse
in the street is a real phenomenon or not, but will step out
of the way of it. If, thus, it must be granted that this faith,
by which our ego believes in our senses, can become abnor
mal by a perplexity of our mind, and in like manner can
become the dupe of delusion, nevertheless this faith is, and
always will be, a certainty-yielding process in our mind,
which at once resumes its dominion.

This is even so true that we actually owe all our convic
tions of the reality of the object exclusively to faith. With
out faith you can never go from your ego to the non-ego ;
there is no other bridge to be constructed from phenomena
to noumena; and scientifically all the results of observation
hang in air. The line from Kant to Fichte is the only
line along which you may continue operations. It is true

134 § 40. FAITH [Div. II

that perception is susceptible of verification : the perception
of one sense by that of the other ; the perception of to-day
by that of to-morrow ; the perception of A by that of B.
But in the first place, this is no help whatever as long as
faitli provides no certainty concerning a single perception.
You cannot verify x by x. And on the other hand, it is
an undoubted fact that, with the exception perhaps of some
weak-minded philosopher, every man, without thinking of
verification or applying any verification whatever, is cer
tain every moment of the day that his surroundings actually
are as they appear ; so that on the ground of this certainty
he acts and works without the least hesitation. When you
sit in your room and some one comes in and addresses you,
you do not consider it your first duty to verify this fact,
for in that very moment you are certain that this person
stands before you and speaks to you ; and you deal with
this fact and act accordingly. All human intercourse is
founded on this fact, as is also all observation, and conse
quently all scientific knowledge, which is built up on
observation ; and this fact falls away at once if faitli
does not work in you to make your ego believe in your
senses.

This is so true, that the most exact science properly begins
its scientific task in the higher sense only when observation
is finished. To observe bacteria or microbes is by itself as
little an act of science as the perception of horses and cows
pasturing in the meadow. The only difference between the
two is, that horses and cows in the meadow arc perceptible
with the naked eye, and bacteria and microbes can be ob
served only with the reinforced eye. Let no one, however,
be misled. The reinforcement of the eye is partly the result
of invention, and partly of scientific construction. But the
bacteriologist, who uses a maximum microscope in his labo
ratory, did not make this himself, he bought it ; and all lie
does is to see by means of his microscope. An aged person
can no longer distinguish letters with his naked eye and buys
glasses; but who will assert that he performs a scientific act,
simply because with the aid of glasses he now reads what

CHAP. II] §46. FAITH 135

once he read without glasses. Technical skill is called into
play in the use of the microscope ; accuracy also ; and a
certain inventive instinct in the statement of what one ob
serves. Scientific knowledge of the department in which
one observes will also be a requisite. All this, however, does
not deny that the observation itself bears no scientific char
acter, and that the scientific task of the observer only begins
when the result of the observation has been obtained. The
farmer who, in his stables and fields, observes the data and
phenomena of nature, exercises virtually the same function
as the observer in his laboratory. To perceive is the com
mon function of man, and perception in a full-grown man is
not scientific study because an adult perceives more and
better than a child. He who has a sharp and penetrating
eye sees all sorts of things which a common observer does
not see, but who has ever thought of calling the observation
of a sharp-seeing man scientific? If then the observer in
his laboratory sees with the reinforced eye what would not
reveal itself in any other way, how can this put the stamp of
science on his labor? If suddenly our eye should be so
greatly strengthened as to equal the microscope in power of
vision, then every one would see what he sees. His advan
tage consists simply in this, that his eye is reinforced. Rein
forced in the same way as the eye of the pilot on the bridge
of a ship is reinforced, so that he discovers the approach
of a coming ship at a great distance. Reinforced in the
same way as the eye of the Alpine huntsman, who through
the spy-glass discovers from afar the wild goat on the gla
cier. Only with a difference of degree. But how can this
difference of degree in the reinforcement of vision ever lend
a scientific character to work in the laboratory, which no one
ever grants to a sea-captain or chamois-hunter ? Grant there
fore that the preparation of the chemist is scientific, that his
purpose lies in science, that presently he will go to work sci
entifically with what has been observed. Very well, if only
you concede that his observation as such lacks all scientific
character, and that a chemist who confined himself to obser
vation would not be prosecuting science at all. All certainty

136 § 40. FAITH [Div. II

indeed, as far as obtained by perception and observation alone,
rests exclusively on the faith that that which we acquire by
the senses deserves our confidence.

If such is the case with the self-consciousness of our ego,
and with the certainty obtained by observation, it is equally
so with demonstration or with the action of our reasoning
understanding. Here also you can pursue no course, unless
you have a point of departure. For this reason men have
always recognized axioms as fixed principles introductory to
demonstration. This word, however, is not happily chosen,
since it suggests an opinion, or a meaning ; but even in
this less-happily chosen word you confess that the funda
mental principles on which you build are not results of dem
onstration ; indeed, that they are not capable of proof. All
you can say of them is, that no one denies them ; that every
one, consciously or unconsciously, consents to them ; so that
you will meet no opposition if you start out from them.
This by itself however is nothing more than an argumen-
turn ad homines, and no proof whatever. Nothing remains,
therefore, but to declare that these axioms are given with
our self-consciousness itself ; that they inhere in it ; that
they are inseparable from it ; and that of themselves they
bring their certainty with them. Since certainty is your
highest aim, nothing more can be demanded than the entire
certainty of these axioms. And what is this again but faith ?
To you they are sure, they are lifted above every ques
tion of doubt, they offer you certainty in the fullest sense,
not because you can prove them, but because you uncondi
tionally believe them. Thus faith is here also the mysteri
ous bond which binds your ego to these axioms. It certainly
has happened, and may happen again, that one will accept all
too quickly as an axiom, what later on will appear suscepti
ble of proof; but at best this only shows that in connection
with what we observed above about "wisdom" our mind also
has intuitive knowledge, and that this intuitive knowledge
may readily be mistaken for the formal action of our faith.
If one takes merely the identity-conception that A = A, the
fact is still a fact that the conviction itself, which forms

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH 137

the starting-point for all demonstration, is not fixed by dem
onstration, but only and alone by faith.

This has by no means exhausted the significance of faith
for the "way of knowledge.'' As faith provides us the
starting-point for our observation and the axiomatic start
ing-point for every demonstration, it also offers us the
motive for the construction of science. This motive lies in
the codification of the general laws which govern the phe
nomena. Observation itself is no science yet in its higher
sense. Science is born of observation only when from those
phenomena, each of which by itself furnishes nothing more
than a concrete and separate case, we have reached the
universal law which governs all these phenomena in their
changes. You admit that without certainty of the existence
and of the validity of these laws, all scientifice effort is futile.
But how do you obtain the knowledge of these laws ? Have
you investigated beforehand all the phenomena that belong
to one class, and do you now conclude, that because the
same activity is seen to operate in all these phenomena in
the same way, it should therefore be the law which, thus
described, governs this class of phenomena? Of course not.
It is not possible for you to do this. The very idea of such
a general law even excludes such an all-embracing investiga
tion. Just because it shall be a general law, it must have
been valid in the ages when you were not yet born, and must
be valid in the ages when you shall be no more. Moreover,
while you live it must be valid everywhere, even in those
places where you are not present, in which places, therefore,
observation is impossible for you. Moreover, suppose that
you had acquired your knowledge of this law in the afore
mentioned way, you would have lost your interest in it.
For that which interests you in the knowledge of such
a law, is the very fact that it enables you to state how this
group of phenomena was conditioned before you were born,
and how it shall be after you are gone. This law holds the
key to the mystery, and it owes its attraction to this charm.
But how did you acquire the knowledge of this law? You
have observed a certain number of cases, which observation

138 § 40. FAITH [Div. II

shows you a certain constant action ; this constant action
makes you surmise that this action will always be constant ;
you hear of others who have built like conclusions upon like
observations ; you apply a special test, and it appears that
in this way you are able to call the same action into life ;
no case is known to you in which this action has not shown
itself ; no one contradicts your surmise ; and every one who
devotes his attention to what has attracted yours, arrives at
the same conclusion : and, upon this ground, it is scientifically
determined that in this group of phenomena such and such
a law operates thus and so. Very well ! But have you now
demonstrated this law? Is the certainty which you have of
the existence of this law, the result of demonstration ? Your
demonstration cannot extend farther than your observation,
and your observation covered certainly not one billionth part
of the cases which are concerned. A\rhether the post hoc in
the cases observed is at the same time a propter hoc, can by
no means always be empirically proved. This proof is only
given when the genetic operation of the cause can be traced
in its entire development. But no one hesitates to adopt a
general conclusion, even where this genetic knowledge is
wanting. That quinine counteracts intermittent fever is a
generally accepted conclusion, even though no one has ever
been able to explain genetically the action of quinine on the
blood. In this case, however, no harm is done. But without
knowing the genetic action of vaccine, the general conclusion
was considered equally justifiable, that inoculation with
this ^ irus is a harmless preventive against smallpox, and,
on the ground of this so-called scientifically discovered law
vaccination has been enforced by public authority ; while
now, alas, in the end it appears how carelessly this conclu
sion was drawn. Hence extreme care is necessary, lest we
proclaim as a general law what aftenvard appears to rest
on defective observation. But even though we pass these
cases by, and confine ourselves to those general laws which
are no longer contradicted, the question ever returns, What
foundation have you for your confidence that your conclu
sion is correct? You say: "I can show this at once and

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH 139

prove that it is so, since no one can call a phenomenon into
being in which this law does not show itself." And as-ain

o o

we say : Very well ! The law of gravitation, etc., is as certain
to us as to you ; but we ask : Where is your proof? And
to this question no answer can be given, except that here
also faith enters in and makes you believe in the existence
and in the absolute validity of such a law. Not that
the formula of this particular law rests on faith. The
formula is the result of your investigation. But the idea
itself that there are such laws, and that when certain phe
nomena exhibit themselves, you are certain of the existence
of such laws, does not result from your demonstration, but
is assumed in your demonstration and is the basis on which
your demonstration rests, and in the end it appears the
means by which your certainty is obtained. Without faith
in the existence of the general in the special, in laws which
govern this special, and in your right to build a general con
clusion on a given number of observations, you would never
come to acknowledge such a law. For one of the primor
dial principles in your logic reads : A particulari ad generale
non valet conclusio, i.e. no conclusion from the special to
the general, is valid. Just so, but all your observations deal
with the special only. Hence you would never reach a gen
eral conclusion if faith did not give you both the idea of
the general and the right to accept it as a fact.

Though this applies to all the sciences, it nevertheless
creates no uneasiness in the man of science, because every
student has the faith, in this universal sense, which is neces
sary for the self-consciousness of the ego, for securing the
axiomatic starting-point and for the forming of general
conclusions. This harmony may momentarily be disturbed
by the report that some people still believe in the reality
of miracle ; but this alarming suggestion is readily dismissed.
If miracles are real, they have no place in common science,
for the very reason that they are miracles. Thus in scientific
investigation faith is virtually taken as a quantity that can
be neglected, because it is the same in all, and therefore
makes no difference in the conclusion. This, of course,

140 § 40. FAITH [Div. II

ought not to be so, and an ever stronger protest should be
raised against this superficiality which is so unworthy of
the name of science ; but the false antithesis between faith
and science is so generally current, that they who value
science most, as a rule prefer the removal of the last vestige
of the leaven of faith.

But when we leave the domain of the natural, and enter
the domain of the mixed and the spiritual sciences, what
then ? Here, also, faith (Trt'o-n?) enters in as the indispensable
factor, and in a way which is not the same with all. In the
mixed and spiritual sciences we touch immediately upon the
diversity of the subject, and constantly encounter what in a
preceding section we explained as the fact of sin. Take his
tory, for instance. With the exception of a small part be
longing to your own times, all observation is at second, third
and fourth hand. There is tradition. Is it trustworthy ?
A certificate bears a signature. Is it the name of the certi-
fier ? You need to consult a document; is this document
genuine ? In such cases doubt is not unnatural. A repre
sentation of events which you yourself have witnessed, is
often made in public meetings, in the press, and in reviews,
which you know is incorrect; this is often given by persons
who were eye-witnesses as well as yourself ; you have no
right in every case to assume bad faith, and yet it is some
times as clear to you as day. If, then, the difficulty is so
great in establishing the truth of an event, the parties of which
are still alive, the official records of which are at your service,
and every particular of which is known to 3*011, what then
becomes of the history of b3rgone ages, of entirely different
lands and countries, which comes to 3*011 from documents, the
very language of which at times is doubtful? This concerns
merely the attestation of facts; and this gives chronicles, but
no history. History demands psychological explanations;
the discovery of a leading motive in events ; a connection
among these events ; and a conclusion that leads to prophetic
insight into the future. Hack of the facts, therefore, you
must interpret the characters, the plans, and purposes of the
actors : and back of those persons vou must search out

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH

the general impulses by which often unconsciously many
people were impelled. As long as this general motive is not
found, there is no science in history. Moreover, history is
likewise a judge. The past is no kaleidoscope which you
turn before your eye. In history there is a struggle of what
you deem holy and true against that which you despise and
lament. Thus you must pass judgment. Your sympathy
and antipathy are active. In history you spy the root-life
of what lives in yourself and in your own surroundings and
in your own times. If this is so, how then can thero
ever be a place in the ranks of the sciences for a sci
ence of history, if in your authentication of the past, in
your effort to explain the past, and in your judgment of
that past, you exclude faith and accept nothing but what has
been obtained by the immediate observation of the senses or
by logical demonstration ?

What has been said of history applies, mutatis mutandis,
in lesser or greater measure, to all the spiritual sciences,
simply because in all these sciences the mystery of man pre
sents itself, and you are as unable to bring the mystery
of your own being, as that of your neighbor, within the
reach of your senses or of your logic. As soon therefore
as medical science leaves the domain of pure empiricism,
and thus becomes scientific, it has to deal more or less with
the same difficulties. Not only in Psychiatry alone, but in
Physiology and in Pathology as well, does it come in contact
with influences and processes, the explanation of which is not
found in matter, but in the psyche. For this reason, even
after the interesting studies of Professor Bornheim, Mag
netism and Hypnotism have not yet been naturalized by
the medical science.

Ordinary experience shows that in all contact with this
invisible world, faith, and nothing but faith, forms the ground
in the human personality of every act. When some one
announces himself to us, and tells us who he is, we at once
accept it as true. We attach value to what he tells of him
self, without having any proof of the truth or means of
verification. Take away this mutual confidence from soci-

142 § 40. FAITH [I):v. II

ety, and conversation or intercourse is no longer possible.
And so firmly and almost ineradicably is this confidence
rooted in us, that even the constant experience of deception
does not impair or take away this universal foundation of
life. Experience makes us guarded and more careful ; but
as long as there is no reason for distrust, confidence remains
the rule of society. This is accounted for by the fact that
no one is able to disclose the inner life of a man except
that man himself. What you call your observation is never
anything else with man than the observation of his life-
expressions. Since he has nine-tenths of these life-expressions
entirely under his control, and is able to withhold or to
falsify them, the knowledge of man obtained by observation
is always extremely limited, and in itself uncertain. Not
observation, but revelation, is the means by which knowledge
of the human person must come to you. Hence, you know
next to nothing of those individuals who are deaf-mute.
And even the revelation which a person makes to you of
himself is by itself of no use, unless you have in your person
the allied data by which to interpret his revelation. There
is certainly some verification by which one can judge of the
self-revelation of another ; but in the first place this veri
fication is often of little use, and, again, it can only be
applied in special cases. Hence in most cases the judge
must depend upon the confessions of the accused and the
explanations of witnesses, both of which obtain their force
of evidence almost exclusively from faith. If such is the
case in the acquisition of knowledge of your nearest sur
roundings, faith is still more strongly appealed to where it
concerns persons who live at a distance from you, or who
lived in former times. You only know what happens in
Japan by what other people say ; and though you may be
entirely unable to verify these communications, you believe
them grosso modo, and doubt not for a moment but that on
reaching Japan you would find the conditions as stated.
Your representation of many a part of Africa rests on the
information of one man. This, however, does not make a
sceptic of you. Yes, though time and again you may be

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH 143

disappointed in your credulity, you do not abandon your in
eradicable confidence, simply because this confidence cleaves
to your nature and is indispensable to life itself. And
this is also true with reference to the past. Even with
reference to your own past, you do not doubt for a moment
that the woman whom you loved as mother was your mother,
and that the man whom you addressed by the name of father
tvas your father. You have not observed your conception
and your birth. Equally unable are you to prove them.
And yet when there is no special cause to make doubt com
pulsory, every child lives in the glad assurance of having
its real father and mother. And herein lies the starting-
point of the power and right of tradition, which, though
frequently mixed up with mistake and falsehood, in itself
forms the natural tie which binds our consciousness to the
past, and so liberates it from the limitations of the present.

All this but shows the utter untenability of the current
representation that science establishes truth, which is equally
binding upon all, exclusively on the ground of observation
and demonstration, while faith is in order only in the realm
of suppositions and of uncertainties. In every expression
of his personality, as well as in the acquisition of scientific
conviction, every man starts out from faith. In every
realm faith is, and always will be, the last link by which
the object of our knowledge is placed in connection with
our knowing ego. Even in demonstration there is no cer
tainty for you because of the proof, but simply because
you are bound to believe in the force of the demonstration.
That this is generally lost sight of, is because faith, which
operates in our observation and demonstration, renders this
service in the material sciences to all individuals equally and
of itself. This prevents the rise of a difference of opinions.
While in the spiritual sciences it has always been necessary
to admit a certain unknown factor in the demonstration, and
for the sake of this x to subtract something from the abso
lute character of the certainty obtained, which, however, has
been disguised under the name of evidence or moral certainty.
And for this reason it was very important to show that

144 § 40. FAITH [Div. II.

faith is the element in our mind by which we obtain cer
tainty, not only in the spiritual, but equally in the material
sciences. From which it follows that the lesser degree of
certainty in the spiritual sciences is not explained by saying
that in the spiritual sciences we have to deal with faith,
which it is not necessary to do in the material sciences ;
but rather from the fact that in the spiritual sciences faith
seems to operate differently in different persons. To obviate
this difficulty the effort is now made to approach the spiritual
sciences as much as possible from the visible world (physical
and physicocratic psychology, etc.), but the knowledge of the
psychical, which is the real object of these sciences, is not
advanced thereby a single step. The cause of this unlike
operation of faith in the domain of the spiritual sciences is
twofold. On the one hand, the effect worked upon this
faith by the disposition of the subject ; and on the other hand,
the fact that in spiritual science faith operates not merely
formally, but also presents a content.

The first cause finds its explanation in the fact that in
the spiritual sciences the unifying powrer of the object does
not control the subjective differentiation. In the material
sciences the subject is obliged to incline himself as far as
possible from his psychical centre to the object, and this
accounts for the fact that here all subjects present that
side only, which is almost one and the same with all. As
soon, however, as in aesthetic observation, as the subject re
sumes his active role, the subjective inequality and differ
ence return at once, as is seen in the fine arts of painting
and music. In the spiritual sciences the opposite takes
place. Here the object is not physical, but psychical, and
where the physical still claims considerable attention, as
in the study of language, it is of a secondary order, and
the psychical remains of first importance. As in the street,
and especially in a foreign city, most people appear alike,
and their differences of nature and character are seen only
in their home life and in their drawing-rooms, so, in viewing
the material world, all spirits (^i^cu) show themselves one
and the same ; but in the psychic centrum their differences

CHAP. II] § 46. FAITH 145

of nature come to light. The peculiar character of the
spiritual sciences consists in this, that they look on the life
of the psyche in its own home and in its own calling, and
therefore in the domain of these sciences the result of faith
is often so entirely different in one than in the other. The
same phenomenon in language will make different impres
sions upon a Mongolian and upon a Romanic linguist ; and
a High Churchman will give an entirely different explanation
of an event in English history from a partisan of the Old
Covenanters. And if this subjective differentiation counts
already for so much in Linguistics and in History, which have
so strong a physical substratum in common, how much more
powerful must be this influence of the subjective diversity,
where psychology, morals, politics, economics, jurisprudence,
etc., are in question. In these sciences almost everything
depends upon the principles one starts out from, the meaning
one attaches to words and the spiritual tendency by which
one is governed. This subjective character of faith in these
sciences is, therefore, no mistake, nor a defect, but a factor
given of necessity in the nature of their object and their
method. It is the essential condition (conditio sine qua non)
by which alone these sciences can flourish.

The second cause of this unlike working of faith in the
spiritual domain lies in the fact, that faith here not only
renders the formal service of establishing the relation be
tween the object and the self-conscious and thinking ego,
but also becomes the immediate voucher of the content.
This is not the case in the material sciences, but it is in
daily life. Our walking, our climbing of stairs, our eating
and drinking, are not preceded by scientific investigation,
but are effected by faith. You run downstairs without
inquiring whether your feet will reach the steps, or whether
the steps are able to bear your weight. You eat bread
without investigating whether it may contain poison, etc.
But when the material world is the object of scientific
investigation, everything is measured, weighed, counted,
separated and examined, and faith renders the exclusively
formal service of making us believe in our senses, in the

146 § 47. KELIGION [Div. II

reality of the phenomena, and in the axioms and laws of
Logic by which we demonstrate. In the spiritual sciences,
on the other hand, this is different. In Psychology it is faith,
and faith alone, which directly guarantees to me the pres
ence of my soul, of my eyo, and of my sense of self. All
the data by which I labor on psychical ground fall away
immediately as soon as I consign faith to non-activity.
And when I go out of myself, in order to communicate
with other persons, in nine cases out of ten faith is the
only means at command by which I can receive the revela
tion of their personality and attach a value to that reve
lation. Let it be emphatically repeated here, that only
because my mother revealed to me who my father was,
do I know this as a fact ; and in almost every case this
all-important circumstance that affects my whole existence
cannot be certified except by faith in the content of this
revelation. This presents no difficulty as long as it con
cerns a content which touches me alone ; as soon, however,
as this content acquires a general character, and tends to
establish the laws of psychic life, in the domains of morals,
politics, economics, pedagogy, jurisprudence and philosophy,
we see all sorts of groups of individuals separate into schools,
and nothing more is said of unity and common certainty.

§ 47. Religion

That which in the given sense is true of all science of the
creaturely, and by which in the end everything depends upon
faith, is from the nature of the case still more eminently
true of all scientific research which concerns itself with the
matter of religion. Taking the conception of ''religion " pro
visionally, without any more precise definition, this much is
certain, that all religion assumes communion with something
that transcends the cosmos, this cosmos being taken objec
tively as well as subjectively. Even when religion takes
no higher flight than- Ethics, it gropes about in that ethical
world-order that it might iind there a central ethical power
which governs this whole domain, and before which every
non-ethical phenomenon must vanish. As long as Ethics

CHAP. II] §47. RELIGION 147

aims only at utility or eudemonism, it misses all religious
character. Even with Kant this is the all-important point
at which religion, however barren and abstract, enters into
his ethical world. The ethical subject feels and recognizes
a higher ethical will, to which his will must be subordi
nated. From which point of view, it follows of necessity
that the whole world of phenomena is either reasoned out of
existence as a mere semblance, or, as real, is subordinated to
the ethical. But in whatever way it is interpreted, in any
case the central power of the ethical world-order is made
to be supreme, transcending all things else, and to it the
subject not only subordinates himself, but also the object.
With a somewhat higher religious development, however,
this will not only not suffice, but there can be no rest until,
surpassing the thelematic, this subordination of subject and
object to this central power has also been found for one's
consciousness. The object of religion is not only placed
outside of this object-subject, but the subject as well as the
object, and the relation of both, must find their ground and
explanation in this central power. The psyche addresses
itself not merely to the general in the special, and to the
permanent in the transient, but to the cause (atria), the
beginning (a/?^), the constitution (o-vo-racri?), and end
(re'A.0?) of both. This extra-cosmic and hyper-cosmic char
acter, however, of every central power, which in the higher
sense shall be the object of religion, is the very reason that
neither observation nor demonstration are of the least avail
in establishing the tie between our subject and this central
power, and that your reasoning understanding is as unable
to foster as to exterminate religion.

This is different, of course, with Theology, which as a
science concerns itself with the matter of religion ; but the
nature of this science, its method and its certainty, sustain
the closest relation to the character of this central power,
which is the impelling motive in all higher religion. As
a physiological and physicocratic study can be for years made
of the expressions of human life, without ever touching upon
the study of the psyche, a lifetime can be spent in all sorts

148 § 47. RELIGION [Div. II

of interesting studies of religious ideas, culture-forms, and
usages, without ever touching upon the study of religion.
Since we now have a psychology without pysche, we also hear
a great deal said of a science of religion without religion.
In which case all study remains phenomenal, but religion
itself is not reached. Hence in this domain also, everything
addresses itself to faith. If the subject were to construe his
religion out of himself, religion itself would be destroyed.
Its characteristic is that the subject places not only the
cosmos outside of him, but primarily himself in absolute
dependence upon the central power whose superiority he
acknowledges. Consequently he can never place himself
above this central power; this, however, is just what he
would do, if he placed this power under himself as object of
his investigation, or construed it out of himself. Much less
can he construe this central power from the cosmos ; for if
the moral sense demands that we subordinate all that is
cosmical to our ethical life, a fortiori this cosmical can never
be adequate to the central power which dominates our ethical
world-order. By the study of phenomena, therefore, many
definite ideas of religion may be derived from the subject
and from the cosmos, but with all this there is nothing-
gained unless I have first grasped the heart of religion, of
which the phenomenal is merely the outshining.

Thus, what in the preceding section we found to be the
case with respect to our relation to other subjects, repeats
itself here with still greater emphasis. No sense, no percep
tion, and no knowledge is here possible for us, unless this
central power reveals itself to us, affects us, and touches us
inwardly in the centrum of our psyche. When we as man
stand over against man, we are always able from our own
subject to form our idea of the other subject, on the ground
of faith in our common nature. But in religion this infer
ence fails us. Except, therefore, this central power makes
itself felt by us, and with entire independence reveals itself
to us in a way which bends to the form of our sense and of
our consciousness, it has no existence for us, and religion is
inconceivable. For this reason all those systems which try

CHAP. II] § 47. RELIGION 149

to construe this central power ethically from the subject, or
naturalistically from the object, fall short of religion and
virtually deny it. Against all such efforts the words of the
Psalmist are ever in force : " In thy light shall we see light,"
and also the words of Christ: "Neither doth any know the
Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth
to reveal him.'" Presently your demonstration may have a
place in your theological studies of the knowledge that is
revealed, and in your inferences derived from it for the sub
ject and the cosmos; but observation or demonstration can
never produce one single milligramme of religious gold.
The entire gold-mine of religion lies in the self-revelation
of this central power to the subject, and the subject has no
other means than faith by which to appropriate to itself the
gold from this mine. He who has no certainty in himself
on the ground of this faith, about some point or other in
religion, can never be made certain by demonstration or
argument. In this way you may produce outward religious
ness, but never religion in the heart.

It may even be asserted that faith obtains its absolute
significance only in religion. In the cosmos you are sup
ported by observation, in the knowledge of other persons by
your own human consciousness and in the self-knowledge of
your own person by the self-consciousness of your ego. But
nothing supports you here. Especially not as the cosmos
now is, and as your subject now exists. In that cosmos, as
well as in your subject, all manner of things oppose your
religious sense; and between you and the object of your
worship there is always the fathomless abyss of the "trans
ference into another genus " (/iera/Sao-t? et? a\\o 7eW?), the
transmutation of that which is not God into God. This
cannot be explained more fully now, because we must not
anticipate the character of Theology. But enough has been
said to show convincingly that without faith no forward
step can be taken here, and that therefore there can be no
science of religion unless, by faith, the inquiring subject
holds communion with that which is the supreme element
in the nature of all religion.

THE TWOFOLD DEVELOPMENT OP SCIENCE

§ 48. Two Kinds of People

The certainty and unity of the scientific result, which,
through the strong divergencies which exist in the thinking
subject, and still more through the existence of the lie, al
most fell victims to Scepticism, recover considerable strength
through the influence of ivisdom and the support of faith.
Since, however, as soon as it performs its function in the
domain of the spiritual sciences, faith passes again under
the dominion of the subjective divergencies, it can indeed
promote the certainty of the result in the conviction, but
it proves, rather than a help, an obstacle in the way to the
unity of this result. The degree of certainty of one's own
conviction cannot be raised without causing the antithesis
with the scientific result of others to become proportionately
striking. This is true of every spiritual science, in so far
as its object is psychic; but from the nature of the case this
is most true of the science which has religion for the object
of its investigation; because, here, the subjective-psychic
must make a very important step, in order from one's own
soul to reach the object of its worship.

And yet these darker spots in the orb of science would
prove no obstacle in the way to the unity of its radiance,
if these divergencies in the subject limited themselves to
a relative difference. Since, as was seen at the beginning
of our study, the subject of science is not the individual,
but the general subject of human nature, the potentially
higher might at length of itself draw the potentially lower
up to and along with itself, and in spite of much resistance
and hesitation bring the universal human consciousness to a
clear insight, a firm conviction, and a certain knowledge.

150

CHAP. Ill] § 48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE 151

In every domain of the expression of human life the sub
jective powers are unequal; not only in that of science, but
also in those of art, religion, the development of social life,
and business. In the spiritual domain, i.e. as soon as the
powers of the consciousness and of the will turn the scale,
equality is no longer found. Here endless variety is the rule.
But in this multiformity there operates a law, which makes
a rule, and involuntarily causes the radically stronger and
purer expressions to dominate the weaker. That which
takes place in song, takes place in the entire spiritual
domain: the stronger and purer voice strikes the keynote,
and ends by getting the others in tune with it. In the
domain of the sciences, also, experience shows that, after
much resistance and trial, the man of stronger and purer
thought prevails at length over the men of weaker and less
pure thought, convinces them, and compels them to think as he
thinks, or at least to yield to the result of his thinking. Many
convictions are now the common property of the universal
human consciousness, which once were only entertained by
individual thinkers. And when we come into touch with
the thinking consciousness of Buddhists, of the followers
of Confusius, or of Mohammedans, we are in general so
deeply conscious of our superiority, that it never occurs
to us to ingratiate ourselves into their favor, but of itself
and involuntarily, by our very contact with them, we make
our conviction dominate them. When this does not succeed
at once, this is exclusively because of their lesser suscepti
bility and backwardness ; as soon, however, as they begin to
develop and to approach maturity, they readily conform to
us. According to the rule " du choc des opinions jaillit
la verite," i.e. "truth is formed from clashing opinions,"
these provisional and necessary divergencies might be toler
ated with equanimity, in the firm conviction that from this
multiplicity unity will spring, were only the character of
these divergencies among men exclusively relative and
matters of degree.

But this naturally all falls awa}7 when you encounter a
difference of principle, and when you come to deal with

152 §48. TWO KINDS OK PKOl'LK [Div. II

two kinds of people, i.e. with those who part company
because of a difference which does not find its origin
within the circle of our human consciousness, but outside
of it. And the Christian religion places before us just this
supremely important fact. For it speaks of a regeneration
(TraXtyyeyeo-ta), of a "being begotten anew" (amyeW^o-t?),
followed by an enlightening (</>&mo7io?), which changes man
in his very being ; and that indeed by a change or transfor
mation which is effected by a supernatural cause. The ex
planation of this fact belongs properly to Dogmatics. But
since this fact exerts an absolutely dominating influence upon
our view of science, it would be a culpable blindfolding of
self if we passed it by in silence. This " regeneration " breaks
humanity in two, and repeals the unity of the human con
sciousness. If this fact of "being begotten anew," coming
in from without, establishes a radical change in the being of
man, be it only potentially, and if this change exercises at
the same time an influence upon his consciousness, then as far
as it has or has not undergone this transformation, there is an
abyss in the universal human consciousness across which no
bridge can be laid. It is with this as with Avild fruit trees,
part of which you graft, while the rest you leave alone.
From the moment of that grafting, if successful and the
trees are properly pruned, the growth of the two kinds of trees
is entirely different, and this difference is not merely relative
and a matter of degree, but specific. It is not a better and
tenderer growth in one tree producing a richer fruit, while the
other tree thrives less prosperously, and consequently bears
poorer fruit; but it is a difference in kind. However luxu
riantly and abundantl}' the ungrafted tree may leaf and
blossom, it will never bear the fruit which grows on the
grafted tree. But however backward the grafted tree may
be at first in its growth, the blossom which unfolds on its
branches is fruit blossom. No tree grafts itself. The wild
tree cannot change from its own kind into the kind of the
grafted tree, unless a power which resides outside of the
sphere of botany enters in and effects the renewal of the wild
tree. This is no relative transition. A tree is not one-

CHAP. Ill] §48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE 153

tenth cultivated and nine-tenths wild, so that by degrees it
may become entirely cultivated; it is simply grafted or not
grafted, and the entire result of its future growth depends
on this fundamental difference. And though from the nature
of the case this figure does not escape the weak side which
every metaphor has, it will nevertheless serve its purpose.
It illustrates the idea, that if in the orchard of humanity a
similar operation or grafting takes place, by which the char
acter of the life-process of our human nature is potentially
changed, a differentiation between man and man takes place
which divides us into two kinds. And if the sublimate,
which from our being arrays itself in our consciousness,
may be compared to the blossom in which the tree develops
its hidden beauty, then it follows that the consciousness of
the grafted and the consciousness of the non-grafted human
ity must be as unlike as to kind, as the blossom of the wild,
and that of the true, vine.

But the difficulty which we here encounter is, that every
one grants this fact of grafting of trees, while in the world
of men the parallel fact is denied by all who have not experi
enced it. This would be the case also with the trees, if
they could think and speak. Without a doubt the wild
vine would maintain itself to be the true vine, and look
down upon that which announces itself as the true vine
as the victim of imagination and presumption. The supe
riority of the cultivated branch would never be recognized
by the wild branch; or, to quote the beautiful German
words, the Wildling (weed) would ever claim to be Edelreis
(noble plant). No, it is not strange that so far as they have
not come into contact with this fact of palingenesis, thought
ful men should consider the assertion of it an illusion and a
piece of fanaticism; and that rather than deal with it as fact,
they should apply their powers to prove its inconceivable-
ness. This would not be so, if by some tension of human
power the palingenesis proceeded from the sphere of our
human life ; for then it would seem a thing to be desired,
and all nobler efforts would be directed to it. But since
palingenesis is effected by a power, the origin of which lies

154 § 48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE [Div. II

outside of our human reach, so that man is passive under it
as a tree under grafting, the human mind is not quickened
by it to action, and consequently must array itself in opposi
tion to it. The dilemma is the more perplexing, since he
who has been wrought upon by palingenesis can never con
vince of it him who has not been similarly wrought upon,
because an action wrought upon us from without the human
sphere, does not lend itself to analysis by our human con
sciousness ; at least not so far as it concerns the common
ground on which men with and without palingenesis can
understand each other. They who are wrought upon by
palingenesis can in no wise avoid, therefore, conveying the
impression of being proud and of exalting themselves. The
Edelreis everywhere offends the Wildling, not merely in that
measure and sense in which a finely cultured, cesthetically
developed person offends the uncouth parvenu; for with
these the difference is a matter of decree, so that as a rule

o '

the parvenu envies the aristocrat, and so secretly recognizes
his higher worth; but, and this is the fatality, the differ
ence in hand is and always will be one of principle. The
Wildlinr/ also grows and blooms, and as a rule its foliage is
more luxuriant, while in its specific development the Edelreis
is not seldom backward.

We speak none too emphatically, therefore, when we
speak of two kinds of people. Both are human, but one is
inwardly different from the other, and consequently feels a
different content rising from his consciousness ; thus they
face the cosmos from different points of view, and are
impelled by different impulses. And the fact that there are
two kinds of people occasions of necessity the fact of two
kinds of human life and consciousness of life, and of two
kinds of science; for which reason the idea of the unity of
science, taken in its absolute sense, implies the denial of the
fact of palingenesis, and therefore from principle leads to the
rejection of the Christian religion.

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 155

§ 49. Two Kinds of Science

By two kinds of science we do not mean that two radi
cally different representations of the cosmos can be simul
taneously entertained side by side, with equal right. Truth
is one, and so far as you understand it to be the object re
flected in our human consciousness, science also can only be
one. Thus if you understand science to be the systematized
result of your perception, observation and thought, the dif
ference in the result of your investigation may be a matter
of degree but cannot be radical. If the result of A is con
trary to the result of B, one or both have strayed from the path
of science, but in no case can the two results, simultaneously
and with equal right, be true. But our speaking of two kinds
of science does not mean this. What we mean is, that both
parts of humanity, that which has been wrought upon by
palingenesis and that which lacks it, feel the impulse to in
vestigate the object, and, by doing this in a scientific way, to
obtain a scientific systemization of that which exists. The
effort and activity of both bear the same character ; they
are both impelled by the same purpose ; both devote their
strength to the same kind of labor ; and this kind of labor is
in each case called the prosecution of science. But however
much they may be doing the same thing formally, their activ
ities run in opposite directions, because they have different
starting-points ; and because of the difference in their nature
they apply themselves differently to this work, and view
things in a different way. Because they themselves are dif-
erently constituted, they see a corresponding difference in the
constitution of all things. They are not at work, therefore,
on different parts of the same house, but each builds a house
of his own. Not as if an existing plan, convention or de
liberation here assigned the rule. This happens as little
in one circle as in the other. Generation upon generation
in all ages, in different lands, and among all classes of
people, is at work on this house of science, without concert
and without an architectural plan, and it is a mysterious
power by which, from all this sporadic labor, a whole is per-

§4'.). TWO KINDS OF SCIKNCK [Div. II

fected. Eacli one places his brick in the walls of this build
ing, and always where it belongs, without himself knowing
or planning it. But despite the absence of all architectural
insight the building goes on, and the house is in process of
erection, even though it may never be entirely completed.
And both are doing it, they who have been wrought upon
bv palingenesis, as well as those who have remained un
changed. All this study, in the circle of the one as well as
in that of the other, founds, builds and assists in the con
struction of a whole. But we emphatically assert that these
two kinds of people devote their time and their strength to
the erection of two different structures, each of which pur
poses to be a complete building of science. If, however,
one of these two is asked, whether the building, on which he
labors, will truly provide us what we need in the scientific
realm, he will of course claim for himself the high and noble
name of science, and withhold it from the other.

This cannot be otherwise, for if one acknowledged the
other to be truly scientific, he would be obliged to adopt the
other man's views. You cannot declare a thing to be scien
tific gold, and then reject it. You derive your right to
reject a thing only from your conviction that that something
is not true, \vhile a conviction that it is true would compel you
to accept it. These two streams of science, therefore, which
run in separate river-beds, do not in the least destroy the
principle of the unity of science. This cannot be done ; it
is absolutely inconceivable. We only affirm that formally
both groups perform scientific labor, and that they recognize
each other's scientific character, in the same way in which
two armies facing each other are mutually able to appreciate
military honor and military worth. But when they have
arrived at their result they cannot conceal the fact that in
many respects these results are contrary to each other, and
are entirely different ; and as far as this is the case, each
group naturally contradicts whatever the other group asserts.

CHAI-. HI] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 157

Tliis would have revealed itself clearly and at once, at least
in Christian lands, if from the beginning the development of
each group had proceeded entirely within well-defined boun
daries. But this was not the case, neither could it be. First,
because there is a very broad realm of investigation in which
the difference between the two groups exerts no influence.
For in the present dispensation palingenesis works no change
in the senses, nor in the plastic conception of visible things.
The entire domain of the more primary observation, which
limits itself to weights, measures and numbers, is common
to both. The entire empiric investigation of the things that
are perceptible to our senses (simple or reinforced) has noth
ing to do with the radical difference which separates the two
groups. By this we do not mean, that the natural sciences as
such and in their entirety, fall outside of this difference, but
only that in these sciences the difference which separates the
two groups exerts no influence on the beginnings of the inves
tigation. Whether a thing weighs two milligrams or three,
can be absolutely ascertained by every one that can weigh.
If it be mistakenly supposed that the natural sciences are
entirely exhausted in this first and lowest part of their inves
tigation, the entirely unjust conclusion may be reached, that
these sciences, as such, fall outside of the difference. But in
accurate as this would be, it would be equally unfair, for the
sake of accentuating the difference, to deny the absolute char
acter of perception by the senses. Any one who in the realm
of visible things has observed and formulated something with
entire accuracy, whatever it be, has rendered service to both
groups. To the validity of these formulas, which makes
them binding upon all and for all time, the natural sciences
owe their reputation of certainty, and, since we are deeply
interested practically in the dominion over matter, also their
honor and overestimation. For the more accurate state
ment of our idea we cannot fail to remark that, however
rich these formulas and the dominion over nature which they
place at our disposal may be in their practical results, they
stand, nevertheless, entirely at the foot of the ladder of sci
entific investigation, and are so little scientific in their char-

158 § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

acter, that formally they are to be equated with the knowledge
of the farmer, who has learned how land must be tilled, and
how cattle may be bred to advantage. Observation in the
laboratory is certainly much finer, and the labor of thought
much more exhaustive, and the skill of invention much more
worthy of admiration, but this is a distinction in degree ; the
empiric knowledge of the farmer and the empiric knowledge
of our naturalist in principle are one. If, however, it is
important to reduce to its just equality the significance of
that which, in the results of naturalistic studies, is absolutely
certain, it should be gratefully acknowledged that in the
elementary parts of these studies there is a common realm,
in which the difference between view- and starting-point
does not enforce itself.

Not only in the natural, but in the spiritual sciences
also, a common realm presents itself. The mixed psychic-
somatic nature of man accounts for this. Consequently,
the object of the spiritual sciences inclines also, to a cer
tain extent, to express itself in the somatic. Only think
of the logos, which, being psychic in nature, creates a body
for itself in language. Hence in the spiritual sciences the
investigation is partly comprised of the statement of out
wardly observable facts. Such is the case in History, the
skeleton of which, if we may so express it, consists entirely
of events and facts, the accurate narration of which must
rest upon the investigation of all sorts of palpable docu
ments. It is the same with the study of Language, whose
first task it is to determine sounds, words and forms in their
constituent parts and historic development, from all manner
of information and observation obtained by eye and ear.
This is the case with nearly every spiritual science, in part
even with psychology itself, which has its physiological
side. To a certain extent, all these investigations are in
line with the lower natural sciences. To examine archives,
to unearth monuments, to decipher what at first seemed un
intelligible and translate it into your owrn language ; to catch
forms of language from the mouth of a people and to trace
those forms in their development ; and in like manner to

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 159

espy the relation among certain actions of our senses and
the psychic reactions which follow, etc., are altogether activ
ities which in a sense bear an objective character, and are
but little dominated by the influence of what is individual
in the investigating subject. This should not be granted too
absolutely, and the determination whether an objective docu
ment is genuine or not, or whether the contents of it must be
translated thus or so, is in many cases not susceptible to
such an absolute decision. But provided the study of the
objective side of the spiritual sciences does not behave itself
unseemly and contents itself within its boundaries, it claims
our joyful recognition, that here also a broad realm of study
opens itself, the results of which are benefits to both groups
of thinkers, and thus also to the two kinds of science.

This must be emphasized, because it is in the interest of
science at large, that mutual benefit be derived by both cir
cles from what is contributed to the general stock of sci
ence. What has been well done by one need not be done
again by you. It is at the same time important that, though
not hesitating to part company as soon as principle demands
it, the two kinds of science shall be as long as possible con
scious of the fact that, formally at least, both are at work at
a common task. It is with reference to this that to the two
already mentioned common realms a third one should be
added, which is no less important. The formal process of
thought has not been attacked by sin, and for this reason
palingenesis works no change in this mental task.

There is but one logic, and not two. If this simply im
plied, that logic properly so called as a subdivision of the
philosophical or psychological sciences, does not need to be
studied in a twofold way, the benefit would be small ; the
more because this is true to a certain extent only, and be
cause all manner of differences and antitheses present them
selves at once in the methodological investigation. But the
influence of the fact aforementioned extends much farther,
and contributes in two ways important service in main-

100 § 4!». TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. 11

taiiiing a certain mutual contact between the two kinds of
science. In the first place, from this fact it follows that the
accuracy of one another's demonstrations can be critically ex
amined and verified, in so far at least as the result strictly
depends upon the deduction made. By keeping a sharp
watch upon each other, mutual service is rendered in the
discovery of logical faults in each other's demonstrations, and
thus in a formal way each will continually watch over the
other. And, on the other hand, they may compel each other
to justify their points of view over against one another.

Let not this last be misunderstood. If, as we remarked,
palingenesis occasions one group of men to exist differentl}*
from the other, every effort to understand each other will
be futile in those points of the investigation in which this
difference comes into play; and it will be impossible to settle
the difference of insight. No polemics between these two
kinds of science, on details which do not concern the state
ment of an objectively observable fact, or the somatic side of
the psychical sciences, or, finally, a logical fault in argumenta
tion, can ever serve any purpose. This is the reason why, as
soon as it has allowed itself to be inveigled into details, and
lias undertaken to deal with things that are not palpable phe
nomena or logical mistakes, Apologetics has always failed to
reach results, and has weakened rather than strengthened the
reasoner. But just because, so soon as the lines have diverged
but a little the divergency cannot be bridged over, it is so
much the more important that sharp and constant attention
be fixed upon the junction where the two lines begin to di
verge. For though it is well known beforehand that even at
this point of intersection no agreement can be reached ; for
then no divergence would follow; yet at this point of intersec
tion it can be explained to each other what it is that compels
us, from this point of intersection, to draw our line as we do.
If we neglect to do this, pride and self-conceit will come into
play, and our only concession to our scientific opponent will
be the mockery of a laugh. Because he does not walk in our
footsteps we dispute not only the accuracy of his results,
but also formallv denv the scientific character of his work.

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 161

And this is not right. Every tendency that wants to main
tain itself as a scientific tendency, must at least give an
account of the reason why, from this point of intersection, it
moves in one and not in the other direction.

And though nothing be accomplished by this, beyond the
confession of the reason why one refuses to follow the ten
dency of the other, even this is an infinite gain. On the one
hand it prevents the self-sufficiency which avoids all inves
tigation into the deepest grounds, and lives by the theory
that "the Will stands in place of reason." Thus we feel
ourselves bound, not only to continue our studies formally
in a severely scientific way, but also to give ourselves an
increasingly clear account of the good and virtuous right
by which we maintain the position originally taken, and
by which we formally labor as we do. And since among
congenial spirits one is so ready to accept, as already
well defined, what is still wanting in the construction,
the two tendencies render this mutual service ; viz. that
they necessitate the continuance of the investigation into
the very soil in which the foundation lies. But, on the
other hand also, this practice of giving each other an account
at the point of intersection effects this very great gain, that
as scientists we do not simply walk independently side by
side, but that we remain together in logical fellowship, and
together pay our homage to the claim of science as such.
This prevents the useless plying of polemics touching points
of detail, which so readily gives rise to bitterness of feel
ing, and concentrates the heat of battle against those issues
of our consciousness which determine the entire process of
the life of science. However plainly and candidly we may
speak thus of a twofold science, and however much we may
be persuaded that the scientific investigation can be brought
to a close in no single department by all scientists together,
yea, cannot be continued in concert, as soon as palingenesis
makes a division between the investigators ; we are equally
emphatic in our confession, which we do not make in spite
of ourselves, but with gladness, that in almost every depart
ment there is some task that is common to all, and, what is

162 § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

almost of greater importance still, a clear account can be
given of both starting-points.

If this explains why these two kinds of science have re
mained for the most part interlaced, there is still another
and no less important cause, which has prevented their
clearer separation. It is the slow process which must
ensue before any activity can develop itself from what po-
tentiall}' is given in palingenesis. If palingenesis operated
immediately from the centrum of our inner life to the outer
most circumference of our being and consciousness, the antith
esis between the science which lives by it and that which de
nies it, would be at once absolute in every subject. But such
is not the case. The illustration of the grafting is still in
point. The cultivated shoot which is grafted into the wild
tree is at first very small and weak; the wild tree, on the
other hand, after being grafted, will persist in putting forth
its branches ; and it is only by the careful pruning away of
wild shoots that the vitality from the roots is compelled to
withdraw its service from the wild trunk and transfer it to
the cultivated shoot. Later on this progress is secured, till
at length the cultivated shoot obtains the entire upper hand
and the wild tree scarcely puts out another branch ; but this
takes sometimes seven or more years. You observe a similar
phenomenon in palingenesis, even to such an extent that if
the development begun upon earth were not destined to reach
completion in a higher life, the sufficient reason of the entire
fact could scarcely be conceived, especially not in those cases
where this palingenesis does not come until later life. But
even when in the strength of youth palingenesis leads to re
pentance (transformation of the consciousness), and to con
version (change in life-expression), the growth of the wild
tree is by no means yet cut off, neither is the shoot of the cul
tivated branch at once completed.

This is never claimed in the circles that make profes
sion of this palingenesis. It has been questioned among
themselves whether the entire triumph of the new element is

CHAP. Ill] §49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 163

possible on this side of the grave (Perfectionists), but that
in any case a period of transition and conflict must precede
this completeness has been the experience and common confes
sion of all. If we call to mind the facts that those people who
as a sect proclaim this Perfectionism, are theologically almost
without any development, and soon prove that they reach
their singular conclusions by a legal Pelagian interpretation
of sin and a mystical interpretation of virtue, while the
theologians in the church of Rome who defend this position
consider such an early completion a very rare exception, it
follows, that as far as it concerns our subject this Perfec
tionism claims no consideration. These sectarian zealots
have nothing to do with science, and those who have been
canonized are too few in number to exert an influence upon
the progress of scientific development. Actually, therefore,
we here deal with a process of palingenesis which operates
continually, but which does not lead to an immediate cessa
tion of the preceding development, nor to a sufficiently
powerful unfolding at once of the new development ; and
as a necessary result the scientific account, given in the
consciousness, cannot at once effect a radical and a clearly
conscious separation.

Several causes, moreover, have assisted the long con
tinuance of this intimate relation. First the fundamental
conceptions, which have been the starting-points of the two
groups of scientists, were for many centuries governed alto
gether by Special Revelation. Not only those who shared the
palingenesis, but also those who remained without it, for a
long time started out from the existence of God, the creation
of the world, the creation of man as sui generis, the fall, etc.
A few might have expressed some doubt concerning one
thing and another ; a very few might have ventured to deny
them ; but for many centuries the common consciousness
rested in these fixed conceptions.

Properly, then, one cannot say that any reaction took
place before the Humanists ; and the forming of a common

164 § 4{)- TW() KINDS OF SCIENCE 'iMv. II

opinion upon the basis of Pantheism and Naturalism lias
really only begun since the last century. Since, now, those
who lived by palingenesis found these old representations
to conform entirely to their own consciousness, it is nat
ural that they were not on the alert to build a scientific
house of their own, as long as general science also lived by
premises which properly belonged to palingenesis. Now,
however, all this has entirely changed. They who stand
outside the palingenesis have perceived, with increasing
clearness, that these primordial conceptions as premises
belonged not to them but to their opponents, and in a com
paratively short time they have placed an entirely different
range of premises over against them. Creation has made
room for Evolution, and with surprising rapidity vast multi
tudes have made this transition from creation to evolution,
because, in fact, they never have believed in creation, or
because they had, at least, never assimilated the world of
thoughts which this word Creation embraced. As natural
as it has been, therefore, that in the domain of science
both circles have been one thus far, it is equally natural
that the unity of this company should now be irreparably
broken. He who in building upon the foundation of crea
tion thinks that he builds the same wall as another who
starts from evolution, reminds one of Sisyphus. No sooner
has the stone been carried up than relentlessly it rolls back
again.

A second cause in point, lies in the fact that palingenesis
does not primarily impel to scientific labor. It stands too
high for this, and is of too noble an origin. Let us be sober,
and awake from the intoxication of those who have become
drunk on the wine of science. If you except a small aris
tocracy, the impulse to the greater part of scientific study
lies in the ambition to dominate the material and visible
world; to satisfy a certain intellectual tendency of the mind :
to secure a position in life ; to make a name and to harvest
honors; and to look down with a sense of superiority upon
those who are less broadly developed. Mention only the
name of Jesus Christ, and you perceive at once how this

CHAP. Ill] §49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 165

entire scientific interest must relinquish its claim to occupy
the first place in our estimate of life. Jesus never wrote
a Summa like Thomas Aquinas, nor a Kritik der reinen
Vernunft like Kant, but even in the circles of the naturalists
his holy name sounds high above the names of all these
coryphaei of science.

There is thus something else to make a man great, and
this lies outside of science in its concrete and technical sense.
There is a human development and expression of life which
does not operate within the domain of science, but which,
nevertheless, stands much higher. There is an adoration
and a self-abasement before God, a love and a self-denial be
fore our fellow-men, a growth in what is pure and heroic and
formative of character, which far excels all beauty of science.
Bound as it is to the consciousness-forms of our present
existence, it is highly improbable that science will be of
profit to us in our eternal existence ; but this we know,
that as certainly as there is a spark of holy love aglow in
our hearts, this spark cannot be extinguished, and the
breath of eternity alone can kindle it into the brightest
flame. And experience teaches that the new life which
springs from palingenesis, is much more inclined to move in
this nobler direction than to thirst after science. This may
become a defect, and has often degenerated into such, and
thus has resulted in a dislike or disdain for science. The
history of Mysticism has its tales to relate, and Methodism
comes in for its share. But as long as there is no disdain of
science, but merely a choice of the nobler interest, it is but
natural that the life of palingenesis should prefer to seek
its greatness in that which exalts so highly the name
of Jesus, and feels itself less attracted to the things which
brought Kant and Darwin their world- wide fame. Add to
this fact that for most people the life of science depends
upon the possibility of obtaining a professorship or a lecture
ship, and that in Europe they who have these positions to
dispose of are, as a rule, inclined to exclude the sons of
palingenesis from such appointments, and you see at once
how relatively small the number among them must have

166 § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

been who were able to devote themselves, with all the energy
of their lives, to the study of the sciences. And thus their
strength was too small and their numbers too few to assume a
position of their own, and to prosecute science independently
from their own point of view.

One more remark will bring to a close the explanation of
this phenomenon. One may have a scientific mind, and be
able to make important contributions to the scientific result,
and yet not choose the most fundamental principles of life as
the subject of his study. There is a broad field of detail-
study in which laurels can be won, without penetrating to
the deep antitheses of the two world-views whose position
over against each other becomes ever more and more clearly
defined. In this class of studies success is won with less
talent, with less power of thought, with less sacrifice of
time and toil ; one also works with greater certainty ; more
immediate results are attained ; and more questions of an
historical character are presented which can be solved within
a more limited horizon. This accounts for the fact that of
ten scientists, nine will prefer this class of studies. Theolo
gians are the exception, but their position at the univer
sities is uncommon. One tolerates in them what would not
be tolerated in others, and a gulf between the theological and
the other faculties is tacitly acquiesced in. If these faculties
of theology were not an imperative necessity because of the
churches, at most universities they would simply be abol
ished. With the reasonable exception of these, the ratio of
one to nine, assumed above, between the men of detail-study
and the men of the study of principles, is certain!}- a fair
one ; and thus when applied to the few sons of palingenesis
who have devoted themselves to science and have been ap
pointed to official positions, causes the number of the stu
dents of principles among them to be reduced to such a
minimum, that an independent and a clearly defined attitude
on their part has been fairly impossible.

Practically and academically the separation between these

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 167

two kinds of science has thus far been made only in a
few single points. The universities of Brussels and Lou-
vain are examples of this. In Amsterdam and Freiburg,
also, a life peculiar to itself has originated. And in Amer
ica a certain division has begun. But these divisions bear
too much a churchly or anti-churchly character, and for the
greater " republic of letters " as a whole they are scarcely
yet worthy of mention. Almost everywhere the two stems
are still intertwined, and in almost every way the stem which
grows from palingenesis is still altogether repressed and
overshadowed by the stem of naturalism ; naturalism being
here taken as the expression of life, which, without palin
genesis, flourishes as it originated. There was, indeed, a
conservative period in university life, in which the old
world-view still thought itself able, by an angry look or
by persecution, to exorcise the coming storm ; and a later
period in which by all manner of half concessions and weak
apologetics, it tried to repress the rise of the naturalistic
tendency. But this Conservatism, which first tried compul
sion and then persuasion, owed its origin least of all to
palingenesis, and thus lacked a spiritual root. At present,
therefore, it is rapidly passing away. Its apologetics lack
force. It seeks so to comport itself that by the grace of
Naturalism it may still be only tolerated ; and it deems it no
disgrace to skulk in a musty vault of the fortification in
which once it bore command.

Neither the tardiness, however, of the establishment of
this bifurcation of science, nor the futile effort of Conserva
tism to prolong its existence, can resist the continuous
separation of these two kinds of science. The all-decisive
question here is whether there are two points of departure.
If this is not the case, then unity must be maintained by
means of the stronger mastering the weaker ; but if there
are two points of departure, then the claim of two kinds of
science in the indicated sense remains indisputably valid,
entirely apart from the question whether both will succeed
in developing themselves for any good result within a given
time. This twofold point of departure is certainly given by

168 §49. TWO KINDS OF SCIKXCE [Div. II

palingenesis. This would not be true if the deepest founda
tions of our knowledge lay outside of us and not -in us, or
if the palingenesis operated outside of these principia of
knowledge in the subject. Since, however, this is not the
case, because, like sin, whose result it potentially destroys,
palingenesis causes the subject to be different in his inner
most self from what he was before ; and because this disposi
tion of the subject exercises an immediate influence upon
scientific investigation and our scientific conviction ; these
two unlike magnitudes can have no like result, and from
this difference between the two circles of subjects there fol
lows of necessity difference between their science.

This bifurcation must extend as far as the influence of
those subjective factors which palingenesis causes to be dif
ferent in one than in the other. Hence all scientific research
which has things seen only as object, or which is prosecuted
simply by those subjective factors which have undergone no
change, remains the same for both. Near the ground the tree
of science is one for all. But no sooner has it reached a cer
tain height, than two branches separate, in the same way
as may be seen in a tree which is grafted on the right side,
while on the left side there is allowed to grow a shoot from
the wild root. In its lowest parts the tree is one, but at a
given height it divides itself, and in this twofold develop
ment one branch grows side by side with the other. Which
of these two is to be considered the wild development, is to
be accounted as failing of its end and to be cut away, and
which the truer development of the tree that shall bear fruit,
cannot be decided by one for the other. The negative for
the one determines here the positive for the other. This,
however, is the same for both, and the choice of each is not
governed by the results of discursive thought, but exclusively
by the deepest impulse of the life-consciousness of each. 1 f
in that deepest impulse the one were like the other, the
choice would be the same. That it is different, is simply
because they are constitutionally different.

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 169

Meanwhile, it must not be concluded from this that in the
circle of palingenesis scientific development must be uniform,
in the sense that all, who in this circle devote themselves to
science, must conform to a given model and arrive at harmo
nious results. This representation is not infrequently made
by the other side. Naturalistic science decorates itself with
corn-flower and garden-rue, as symbols of the free character
which it boasts, while the science of those who accept palin
genesis is represented as festooned with autumn-lea ves(f euille-
morte), and as incapable of progress worthy of the name within
the narrow limits to which it is confined. This entire repre
sentation, however, is but a play of the imagination, and in
both circles a real scientific development takes place, which un
folds the beauty of truth only in the harmony of multiformity.

A fuller explanation may be considered important.

In the abstract every one concedes that the subjective
assimilation of the truth concerning the object cannot be
the same with all, because the investigating individuals are
not as alike as drops of water, but as unlike as blades of
grass and leaves on a tree. That a science should be free
from the influence of the subjective factor is inconceivable,
hence with the unlikeness of the individuals the influence
of this factor must appear.

For this reason science in its absolute sense is the property
of no single individual. The universal human consciousness
in its richest unfoldings is and ever will be the subject of
science, and individuals in their circle and age can never
l^e anything but sharers of a small division of science in
a given form and seen in a given light. The difference
among these individuals is accordingly both a matter of
degree and of kind. A matter of degree in so far as energy
in investigation, critical perspicuity and power of thought
are stronger in one than in the other. But a matter of
kind also, in so far as temperament, personal inclination,
position in life and the favorableness or unfavorableness of
circumstances cause each individual investigator to become
one-sided, and make him find his strength in that one-sided-
ness which renders the supplementation and the criticism

170 § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

of others a necessity. This accounts for the varieties of
theories and schools which antagonize, and by this antag
onism bless, each other. This is the reason why in each age
and circle certain views prevail, and strike the keynote ;
and that all manner of personal influences are restricted
by the power of public opinion. This piecemeal labor
of every description would never advance science, if the
object of science itself did not exist organically, and the
investigating individuals in every land and age were not
involuntarily and often unconsciously organically related.
To annul this mutually supplementary, corrective and yet
organically connected multiformity, would be the death of
science. Not the military mechanism of the army, but the
organic multiformity of social life is the type to which, in
order to flourish, science must correspond.

Such being the case with naturalistic science, it would be
different with the science which flourishes upon the root of
palingenesis, only if palingenesis annulled the cause of this
subjective pluriformity. This, however, is not at all the case.
Palingenesis does not destroy the difference in degree between
individuals. It does not alter the differences of tempera
ment, of personal disposition, of position in life, nor of con
comitant circumstances which dominate the investigation.
Neither does palingenesis take away the differences born
from the distinction of national character and the process
of time. Palingenesis may bring it about, that these dif
ferences assume another character, that in some forms they
do n -^t appear, and that they do appear in other forms
unknown outside of it ; but in every case with palingenesis
also subjective divergence continues to exist in every way.
The result indeed shows that in this domain, as well as
in that of naturalistic science, different schools have formed
themselves, and that even in the days of the Middle Ages
there never was a question of uniformity. However much
Rome has insisted upon uniformity, it has never been able
to establish it, and in the end she lias adopted the system of
giving to eacli expression of the multiformity a place in the
organic harmony of her great hierarchy.

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 171

No doubt the antitheses sometimes assume an entirely dif
ferent character in the domain of palingenesis than in the
domain of naturalistic science. No atheistic, materialistic,
nor pessimistic system can flourish in its soil. Its schools,
therefore, bear different names and divide themselves after
different standards. But as after the entrance of the Chris
tian religion into the world, the schools of Alexandria, of
Antioch, of North Africa, of Constantinople, and of Rome,
each bore a type of its own, so it has remained through all
the ages, is now, and shall be to the end. Friction, fermen
tation and conflict are the hall-mark of every expression of
life on higher ground in this present dispensation, and from
this the science of the palingenesis also effects no escape.

Three objections may here be raised : (1) that this
science is bound to the content of revelation ; (2) that its
liberty is impeded by the ecclesiastical placet ; and (3) that
its result is determined in advance. A brief remark is in
place on each of these three objections.

Since the investigating subject is changed by palingenesis
from what he was before, he will undoubtedly assume a
different attitude towards the Revelation of God. He will
no longer try, as in his naturalistic period, to denounce that
Revelation as a vexatious hindrance, but will feel the need
of it, will live in it, and profit by it. He will certainly thus
reckon with that Revelation, but in no other way than that
in which the naturalist is bound to and must reckon with the
existing cosmos. This, however, would destroy the scientific
character of his knowledge, only if this Revelation consisted
of nothing but a list of conclusions, and if he were not allowed
subjectively to assimilate these conclusions. This, however,
is by no means the case. The Revelation offered us in the
Word of God gives us gold in the mine, and imposes upon us
the obligation of mining it ; and what is mined is of such a
nature, that the subject as soon as he has been changed by
palingenesis, assimilates it in his own way, and brings it in
relation to the deepest impulse and entire inner disposition

172 § 4',». TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

of his being. That this assimilation does not take place by
means of the understanding only, can raise no objection, since
it has been shown that naturalistic science also can make no
advances without faith. Moreover, naturalistic science, as
well as that of palingenesis, has its bounds, beyond which it
cannot go; its antinomies, which it cannot reconcile; and its
mysteries, after which the interrogation point remains stand
ing. If now knowledge is brought us by Revelation from
across the boundaries, a reconciliation is offered for many
antinomies, and many a new mystery is unveiled, it pleads
in no respect against the scientific character of our science,
that our reason is unable to analyze this new material and
to place it in organic connection with the rest. It is not
strange, therefore, that with reference to this Revelation,
faith unfolds a broader activity than in the investigation
of the cosmos, and harmonizes entirely with the aim and
character of this Revelation : viz. to be of service first to
the practical religious life, even of the simplest-minded
people, and after that to science. But rather than protest
against this, science ought to recognize the fact that she is
called, (1) to investigate the nature and essence of this Reve
lation; (2) to anatyze the material, which has been derived
from it ; and (3) to discover and indicate the way in which
this material, as well as Revelation itself, enters into relation
with the psychical life of man. The lack of unanimity on
any of these three points, and that in all ages these three
points, and everything connected with them, have been so
differently judged, is readily explained. The tendencies of
mysticism and pietism, of realism and spiritualism, of trans
cendentalism and immanence, of monism and dualism, of the
organic and individualism have ever intruded themselves
into these questions, and have crossed again those blended
types, which are known by the name of Romanism, Luther-
anism and Calvinism. Tendencies and types these, in which
shortsightedness beholds merely ecclesiastical variegations,
but which to the man of broader view, extend themselves
across the entire domain of human life, science included.
And though the science of the palingenesis may succeed as

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 173

little as naturalistic science in scientifically bringing to a suc
cessful end the conflict between these different schools and
tendencies on its own ground, it is still the task of science
also within the realm of palingenesis constantly to test the
assertions of these several tendencies, for the sake of en
hancing the clearness of their self-consciousness.

This brings us of itself to the second objection : that the
liberty of this science is impeded by the ecclesiastical placet.
This also must be denied. There is no instituted church
(ecclesia instituta) conceivable without a placet; and the
position of an investigator, whose results antagonize this ec
clesiastical placet, is thereby rendered false and untenable ;
but this does not impede the prosecution of science in the
least. In the first place the church, as instituted church,
never passes sentence upon that which has no bearing upon
"saving faith." Even the church of Rome, which goes far
thest in this respect, leaves the greater part of the object
free. Again, this church placet is itself the result of a spir
itual conflict, which was developed by contradictions, and in
which the controversy was scientific on both sides. Hence
it is every man's duty and calling constantly to test by sci
entific methods the grounds advanced from either side. And
if, in the third place, an investigator becomes convinced that
the placet of the church is an unjust inference from Revela
tion, he must try to prove this to his church, and if she will
not allow him this privilege, he must leave her. This would
not be possible if the church were a scientific institute,
but no instituted church advances this claim. Hence in the
realm of palingenesis one remains a man of science, even
though he may lose his harmony with the church of his birth ;
and it is not science, but honesty and the sense of morality,
which in such a case compels a man to break with his church.
This, however, occurs but rarely, partly because the churches
in general allow considerable latitude ; partly because a false
position does not seem untenable to many ; but more
especially, because the churchly types are not arbitrarily
chosen, but of necessity have risen from the constellation of
life. Since the scientific investigator, who is connected with

174 § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

such a church, stands for the most part under those same
constellations, it is very natural that in most cases he will
not come into any such conflict, but will arrive at the same
conclusions as his church. Then, however, there is no com
pulsion ; no bonds are employed ; but the agreement is
unconstrained and necessary. The danger would be more
serious, if the whole church in the earth had only one form
alike for all parts of the world, so that the placet would be
everywhere the same ; and indeed the existence of this dan
ger of the loss of liberty could not entirely be denied dur
ing the Middle Ages, nor can it be denied to-day in those
countries which are entirely uniform religiously. But since
in the instituted church this unity is broken, so that now
there are ten or more forms of church organizations, in which
almost every possible type has come to an organization of its
own, it is almost inconceivable that in the domain of palin
genesis a scientific investigation would ever lead to a result
which would not accord with the placet of one of these
churches on the contested points. And if, in case a conflict
cannot be avoided, one is impelled by love of truth and by
a sense of honor to change his relations from one church to
the other, it is as little of a hindrance to the liberty of the
spiritual sciences, as when one is compelled by the results of
investigation on political grounds to seek refuge from Russia
in freer England or America.

Finally, concerning the last objection, — that in the do
main of palingenesis there can be no science, because its
results are predetermined, — let it be said that this is partly
inaccurate, and that as far as it is accurate, it applies equally
to naturalistic science. As it stands, this proposition is
partly untrue. In general one understands by it, that in
the ecclesiastical Creed or in the Holy Scriptures the results
are already given. If a conflict arises between the result of
our investigation and our ecclesiastical creed, it may render
our ecclesiastical position untenable, but it cannot affect the
maintenance of our scientific results. And as for the Holy
Bible, it is ever the province and duty of science to verify
what is inferred from it. Yet after the subtraction of these

CHAP. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 175

two factors, it is still entirely true that in the abstract the
results of our investigation are beforehand certain, and that,
if we reach other results, our former results are not valid and
our investigation is faulty. This, however, is common both to
the science of palingenesis and to naturalistic science. The
actual nature of the cosmos conditions the results of all
investigation, and so far as there is question of knowledge
which we obtain by thinking, our thinking can never be
aught than the o/fer-thinking of what has been before thought
by the Creator of all relations ; even to such an extent
that all our thinking, to the extent that it aims to be and is
original, can never be anything but pure hallucination. Hence
it is entirely true, that in the domain of palingenesis all
results of investigation are bound to the nature of palin
genesis, and determined by the real constitution of the
spiritual world with which it brings us into relation ; it is
also true, that that which has been well investigated will
prove to agree with what has been revealed to us in an
accurate way from this spiritual world ; nor may it be
denied that in this realm also, all our thinking can only
be the after-thinking of the thoughts of God ; but it has
all this in common with the other science, and all this is
inherent in the nature of science. If the objection be raised
that in the prosecution of science as directed by palingen
esis, it is a matter of pre-assumption that there is a God,
that a creation took place, that sin reigns, etc., we grant this
readily, but in the same sense in which it is pre-assumed in
all science that there is a human being, that that human
being thinks, that it is possible for this human being to
think mistakenly, etc., etc. He to whom these last-named
things are not presuppositions, will not so much as put his
hand to the plough in the field of science ; and such is the
case with him who does not know, with greater certainty
than he knows his own existence, that God is his Creator,
entirely apart from palingenesis. Facts such as are here
named, — that there is a God, that a creation took place,
that sin exists, etc., — can never be established by scientific
investigation ; nor has this ever been attempted but some

176 § 00. TIIK PROCESS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

acuter mind was at hand to convict its predecessor of error.
Only let it be remembered, that in this section we do by no
means refer to Theology simply, nor even especially. Sci
ence, as here considered, is science which has the entirety
of things as its object ; and only when we come to Theology
may the special questions be answered, to which the entirely
peculiar character of this holy science gives occasion.

§ 50. The Process of Science

Our proposition that there are two kinds of science is,
from the nature of the case, merely the accommodation to a
linguistic usage. The two sciences must never be coordi
nated with each other. In fact, no one can be convinced
that there is more than one science, and that which
announces itself as science by the side of, or in opposition
to, this can never be acknowledged as such in the absolute
sense. As soon as the thinker of palingenesis has come to
that point in the road where the thinker of naturalism parts
company with him, the hitter's science is no longer anything
to the former but "science falsely so called.'' Similarly
the naturalistic thinker is bound to contest the name of
science for that which the student of the "wisdom of God"
derives from his premises. That which lies outside of the
realm of these different premises is common to both, but
that which is governed, directly or indirectly, by these
premises comes to stand entirely differently to the one from
what it does to the other. Always in this sense, of course,
that only one is right and in touch with actual reality, but
is unable to convince the other of wrong. It will once be
decided, but not until the final consummation of all things.
For though it must be granted, that in what is called the
moral and social u Banquerott der Wissenschaft," even now
a test is often put in part to the twofold problem ; and though
ii is equally clear that every investigator will come to know
this decision at his death : yet this does not change the fact
that, of necessity, the two kinds of science continue to spin
their two threads, as long as the antithesis is maintained
between naturalism and palingenesis; and it is this very

CHAP. Ill] § -30. THE PROCESS OF SCIENCE 177

antithesis which the parousia will bring to an end, or — this
end will never come.

Hence formal recognition only is possible from either side.
The grateful acceptance of those results of investigation
which lie outside of the point in question, is no recog
nition, but is merely a reaping of harvests from common
fields. So far, on the other hand, as the antithesis between
our human personality, as it manifests itself in sinful nat
ure and is changed by palingenesis, governs the investi
gation and demonstration, we stand exclusively opposed to
one another, and one must call falsehood what the other
calls truth. Formally, one can concede, as we do without
reservation, that from the view-point of the opponent,
the scientific impulse could not lead to any other prosecu
tion of science, even with the most honest intention; so
that, though his results must be rejected, his formal labor
and the honesty of his intention must claim our apprecia
tion. That this appreciation is mostly withheld from us, is
chiefly explained from the fact that, from the view-point of
palingenesis, one can readily imagine himself at the view
point of unregenerated nature, while he who considers fallen
nature normal, cannot even conceive the possibility of a palin
genesis. For which reason, every scientific effort that goes out
from the principle of palingenesis is either explained as fanat
icism or is attributed to motives of ambition and selfishness.

Hence the urgent necessity to combat the false represen
tation that that science which lives from the principle of
palingenesis lacks all organic process, and consists merely
in the schematic application of dogmas to the several prob
lems that present themselves. This representation is antago
nistic to the very conception of science, and is contradicted
by experience. Very marked differences of insight pre
vail among the scholars of the science which operates from
the principle of palingenesis, as well as among the others,
and many institutions and schools form themselves. There
is, therefore, no organic, multiform process of science among
naturalists and a schematic, barren monotony with the men
of palingenesis; but the calling of science to strive after an

178 § 50. THE PROCESS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

objective unity of result born from multiformity, in the face
of all the disturbance of subjectivity, is common to both.

To both the general subject of science is, and always will
be, the human mind at large and not the ego of the individual
investigator. The rule is also common to both, that the
human mind does not operate except through the subject of
individual investigators, and that these, according to their
differences of disposition, of age, and habits of life, can sever
ally bring in but a very small and limited, a very subjec
tively tinted and one-sidedly represented, contribution to
the final harvest of science. This many-sided variety gives
rise to divers antitheses and contradictory representations,
which for a time establish themselves in the institutions and
schools, which are in process of time superseded by other
antitheses, and from which again new institutions and
schools are born. Thus there is continual friction and con
stant fermentation, and under it all goes on the process of
an entirely free development, which is in no wise bound
except by its point of departure, whether in unregenerate
or in regenerate human nature. Let no one think, there
fore, that Christian science, if we may so call the science
which takes palingenesis as its point of departure, will all
at once lead its investigators to entirely like and harmonious
results. This is impossible, because with the regenerate
also, the differences of subjective disposition, of manner of
life, and of the age in which one lives, remain the same;
and because Christian science would be no science, if it did
not go through a process by which it advanced from less to
more, and if it were not free in its investigation, with the
exception of being bound by its point of departure. That
which the prosecutor of Christian science takes as his point
of departure is to him as little a result of science as to the
naturalist; but he, as well as the naturalist, must obtain
his results of science by investigation and demonstration.

Only let it be remembered, that not every subjective repre
sentation which announces itself as scientific is a link in the

CHAP. Ill] § 50. THE PROCESS OF SCIENCE 179

process of the development of science. The subjective ele
ment certainly bears on one side a necessary character, but
also one which, all too often, is merely accidental or even
sinful. In the spirit of humanity is a multiformity from
which, for the sake of the full harmony, no single element
can be spared; but there is also a false subjectivism which,
instead of causing single tones to vibrate for the sake of
the full accord, disturbs the accord by discord. To over
come this false subjectivism, and to silence these discords,
is by no means the least important part of the task of science.
However much this false subjectivism may exert itself in
the domain of Christian science, as well as in that of natural
istic science, yet we may assert that with Christian science
this parasite does not reach an equal development of strength.
Palingenesis takes away from the human spirit much on
which otherwise this parasite feeds, and the enlightening,
which develops itself from regeneration, applies a saving
bridle to this false subjectivism. But this parasite will
never be wanting from the domain of Christian science,
simply because palingenesis does not absolutely remove the
after-workings of unregenerated nature. Hence it is also
the calling of Christian science to resist this false subjectiv
ism, but only by scientific combat.

As far, on the other hand, as this subjective element is of
necessity connected with the multiformity of all human life,
the differences born from this will reveal themselves in Chris
tian science more strongly rather than more weakly, because
palingenesis allows these subjective differences to fully assert
themselves, and does not, like naturalism, kill them. From
the earliest ages of the Christian religion, therefore, these an
titheses in the domain of Christian science, and the tendencies
born from them, have ever assumed a much firmer and more
concrete form, especially where they ran parallel with the
ecclesiastical distinctions. But in the realm of Christian
science it will never do for these several tendencies to point
to the ecclesiastical basis of operation, as the source from
which they obtained their greater permanency- Every ten
dency is bound scientifically to defend its assertions in the

180 §50. THE PROCESS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

face of those of other tendencies. One may even say that
this scientific labor maintains the spiritual communion be
tween those who are ecclesiastically separated and estranged
from each other. And if this is objected to by the state
ment that the prosecutors of this science often assume the
position over against one another, that they only possess
truth in its absolute form, the threefold remark is in place:
First, that in their realm the students of naturalistic science
often do the same thing; that with them also one school
often stands over against the other with the pretence of
publishing absolute truth. Secondly, that we must dis
tinguish between what the student of Christian science-
professes as a church-member, and what he offers as the
result of his scientific investigation. Hut, in the third
place also, that idealism in science demands that every man
of conviction shall firmly believe that, provided their devel
opment be normal, every other investigator must reach the
same result as he. He who shrinks from this cannot affirm
that he holds the result of his own investigation as true :
he becomes a sceptic. He who in his own conception has
not stepped out from his subjectivity in order to grasp the
eternally true, has no conviction. And though it he entirely
true that history plainly teaches, that the ripest and noblest
conviction has never escaped the one-sidedness of one's own
subjectivity, the inextinguishable impulse of our human
nature never denies itself, but sees truth in that which it
has grasped for itself as truth.

Ilenc'1 the result we reach is, that the effort which reveals
itself in our nature to obtain a scientific knowledge of the
cosmos by investigation and demonstration, is ever bound
to the premises in our nature from which this effort starts
out. That for this reason this effort leads to a common
practice of science, as far as these premises remain equal,
but must divide itself as soon as the fork is reached where
the change effected in these premises by palingenesis begins
to influence the investigation. That for this part of the
investigation, therefore, two kinds of scientific study run
parallel, one which is. and one which is not, governed by

CHAP. Ill] § 51. BOTH SCIENCES UNIVERSAL 181

the fact of palingenesis. That they who study science under
the influence of palingenesis, as well as they who leave it
out of account, can only hold for true what rests on their
own premises, and thus can appreciate each other's study
only in a formal manner. That with Christian, as well as
with naturalistic science, that only stands scientifically sure
which, going out from its own premises, each has obtained
as the result of scientific research. That consequently, in
both studies of science, all sorts of antitheses, tendencies,
and schools will reveal themselves, and that by this process
alone science on both sides advances. And finally, that
because the influence of the subjective element, occasioned
by a difference of disposition, manner of life, spiritual
tendency, and age, makes itself felt with both, every in
vestigator deems his own result of science true in the
broadest sense ; thereby going out from the conviction that,
provided he carries on his investigation well, every normal
investigator will attain a like result with himself.

§ 51. Both Sciences Universal

The proposition, that in virtue of the fact of palingenesis
a science develops itself by the side of the naturalistic,
which, though formally allied to it, is differently disposed,
and therefore different in its conclusions, and stands over
against it as Christian science, must not be understood in a
specifically theological, but in an absolutely universal sense.
The difference between the two is not merely apparent in
theological science, but in all the sciences, in so far as
the fact of palingenesis governs the whole subject in all in
vestigations, and hence also, the result of all these investi
gations as far as their data are not absolutely material. To
support this proposition, however, two things must still be
shown : first, that in both cases science is taken in the sense
of universal-human validity ; and, secondly, that palingenesis
is not merely a subjective psychical, but a universal phenom
enon, which involves both the investigating subject and the
cosmos. Inasmuch, however, as we are writing a theological
encyclopedia, we do not proceed here to the exposition of this,

182 § 51. BOTH SCIENCES UNIVERSAL [Div. II

but reserve it for treatment under the development of the con
ception of Theology. At this point, therefore, a simple sug
gestion suffices. Concerning the first, the universally valid
character is inseparable from all science ; not in the sense that
every individual agrees with you, but that the subject of your
science is, and ever will be, the universal human conscious
ness. Well, then, the palingenesis, which does not operate
within single persons atomistically, but organically upon our
race, will produce this result: that the tree of humanity, our
race, humanity as a whole, and thus also the universal human
consciousness, shall be glorified and sanctified in the a body of
Christ." He who remains outside of this till the end, falls
away from humanity. Up to the time of this final solution,
however, neither the naturalistic nor the Christian science
have any universally compulsive character outside of their
own sphere. We encounter one another in open conflict, and
a universally compulsory science, that shall be compulsory
upon all men, is inconceivable. And concerning the second
point, let the provisional remark suffice, that there is not
merely a palingenesis of the human soul, but also a palin
genesis of the body and of the cosmos. This accounts for
the central character of the Resurrection of Christ, and for
the far-reaching significance of the restoration of the cosmos,
which in Matthew xix. 28 is indicated by this very word of
palingenesis.

CHAPTER IV

DIVISION OF SCIENCE

§ 52. Organic Division of Scientific Study

Before we can find a provisional answer, in the closing
chapter of this division, to the question, whether Theology
is or is not a necessary and an integral part of the organism
of science, this organism itself must be somewhat closely ex
amined. Only when the anatomy of this organism is known,
can it be seen of what parts it consists, and whether among
these parts a science in the spirit of what we call Theology
occupies a place of its own. Of course, in the framing
of this conclusion we must start out with a definition of
Theology, which cannot be explained until the following
division ; but for the sake of clearness in the process of the
argument, this hypothetical demonstration is here indispen
sable.

As far as the organism of science itself is concerned, we have
purposely chosen as the title of this section the expression : The
organic division of scientific study. If the organic division
of science itself is viewed, apart from its relation to practice,
nothing is obtained but an abstraction, which lies entirely
outside of history and reality ; and the question whether
Theology is a science in this scientific organism can never
be answered. For Theology is an historic-concrete com
plex, which, if brought over into the retort of abstractions,
would at once slip through our fingers and volatilize.

As regards the organic character of science, three data
must be taken into account : (1) the organic relation among
the several parts of the object of science ; (2) the organic
relation among the different capacities of the subject and the
data which lead to the knowledge of the object ; and (3) the
organic relation which in consequence of (1) and (2) must

183

184 §52. OKOANIC DIVISION Dis. II

appear in the result of the scientific task. The object exists
organically ; the subject itself exists organically and stands
organically related to the object; and consequently this
organic character must be found again, as soon as the knowl
edge of the object has been attained by the subject with
sufficient completeness and accuracy. The unity of these
three reveals itself historically in the scientific task, which
did not begin by making these distinctions clear for itself,
but had its rise in the instinctive faith in this mutual rela
tionship. The stimulus to undertake this scientific study is
not given by an Academy of Sciences, but by our innate
inclination to investigate. As a child breaks his toys and
cuts them into pieces, in order to find out what they are
and how they are constructed ; or, as outside of his play-
hour he overwhelms you with questions ; thus is man
prompted by a natural impulse to investigate the cosmos.
And, though with adults also this desire after knowledge
may consist too largely of a playful inquiry, the needs
of life add a nobler seriousness to this playful investiga
tion and by it rule and continuity are imparted to the sci
entific task. If the practical need of physicians, lawyers,
ministers of the Word, Academic professors, etc., did not
continually press its claims, the very existence of universities
would at once be jeopardized. If these were abolished, and
with them the avenues to success were closed against those
who desire to devote their lives to scientific pursuits, a small
group only of competent persons would be able to allow
itself the luxury of this pursuit. And if the number of sci
entists should thus be reduced, the study of science would
likewise suffer from the gradual disappearance of the whole
apparatus which is now at its service in libraries, labora
tories, observatories, etc-. The vitae non scolo.e is true also
in the sense that only life gives the school its susceptibility
to life.

The ideal representation that science would still be able to
flourish when practised merely for its own sake, rests upon
self-deception. This is best observed in the case of those
special sciences whose study is not immediately born from

CHAP. IV] OF SCIENTIFIC STUDY 185

the practical need of life, and whose development in conse
quence has been so greatly retarded. If there \vere no
logic in this practical need of life, and if it were not con
nected with the organic motive of science itself, this de
pendence of the school upon life would be most fatal, and
would obstruct the smooth progress of scientific investiga
tion. This, however, is not so. The practical need of life
is born from the relation in which the subject stands to the
object, and from the necessary way in which the subject
(humanity) develops itself organically from itself. It must
be conceded that the claims which this practical need causes
to be felt, are not always considered in the accurate order of
succession, and that only after several fits and starts do they
assume a more normal character ; but the result also shows
that science has made all these fluctuations with them, and
only when the practical need of life has begun to express itself
in clearer language, and, consequently, with clearer self-con
sciousness, has it assumed a more normal character. This
would certainly have proved a difficulty, if the slow ripen
ing of this clear insight into the claims of practical need
were bound to any other law than that which governs the
development of science itself ; but it has created 110 disturb
ance, since both the development of these practical needs and
the development of science have been governed by the self
same power, i.e. by the actual mode of existence and or
ganic relation of object and subject. Every encyclopedical
division of the sciences, which aims to be something more
than a specimen of mental gymnastics, will therefore in the
main always proceed from the practical division given histori
cally in the academical faculties. Not as though this division
were simply to be copied ; for this division, which has already
been modified so often, is always susceptible of further modi
fication ; but these future modifications also will not abstractly
regulate themselves according to the demands of your scheme,
but will be permanently governed by the demands of prac
tical need ; and only when your schematic insight has modi
fied the form in which the practical need of life asserts itself,
will this insight, through the medium of practical life, be

§ 52. ORGANIC DIVISION [Div. II

able to influence effectually the process of discriminating the
faculties.

But while criticism of the division of scientific study, as it
is controlled by that of the faculties, is in every way lawful
and obligatory, Encyclopedic science is nevertheless bound
to set out from this historic division. It is not to dissect an
imaginary organism of science, but it must take as its start
ing-point the body of science as it actually and historically
presents itself; it must trace the thought which has deter
mined the course of this study; and, reinforced with this lead
ing thought, it must critically examine that which actually is.
Encyclopedia is no speculative, but a positive, science ; it
finds the object of its investigation in the actually given
development of science. As long as this object had not
sufficiently developed, the very thought of Encyclopedic
science could not suggest itself. Its study only begins when
the study of the sciences has acquired some form of perma
nency. Since historically Theology has called into life a
faculty of its own and has presented itself in this faculty as
a complex of studies ; and since it is our exclusive aim to
answer the question whether Theology takes a place of its
own in the organism of the sciences ; it would be futile to
sketch the organism of science in the abstract. For in the
case both of ourselves and of our opponents this sketch would
of necessity be controlled by the sympathy or antipathy
which each fosters for Theology. Hence that we may have
ground beneath our feet, AVC should not lose ourselves in
speculative abstractions, but must start out from the historic
course which, under the influence of the practical needs of
life, has been pursued by the study of the sciences.

Practically, now, we see that the theological faculty was
the first to attain a more fixed form. Alongside of it, and fol
lowing immediately in its wake, is the juridical faculty. Next
to these two is the slow growth of the medical, a.s a third
independent faculty. The so-called philosophical faculty
finds its precursors 121 the Artista,-1 : but it is a slow process
by which these surmount the purely propaedeutic character

1 Artista; ^Yas the name of tin- teachers of classic lansniaaes.

CHAP. IV] OF SCIENTIFIC STUDY 187

which their study bore at first. The facultas litteraria,
either in or out of connection with the faculty of natural
philosophy, only gradually takes its place by the side of the
above-named three. Clergymen, lawyers and physicians
were everywhere needed, while a man of letters and a natu
ral philosopher could find a place only in a few schools.
To every one hundred young men, who studied in the first
three faculties, there were scarcely five who found their
career in the study of literature or natural philosophy.
And for this reason the first three faculties were for a long
time the principal faculties, and the study of the Artistse
and Physicists were mere auxiliaries to them. Propaedeutics
was the all-important interest, and not the independent
study of Letters or of Natural Philosophy. From this
it must also be explained, that at so many universities
the study of Letters and of Natural Philosophy has always
been combined in the same faculty. In Holland the un-
tenability of this union has long since been recognized, and
the Literary and Natural Philosophy faculties have each
been allowed a separate existence; and the fact that else
where they still remain together is simply the result of the
common propaedeutic character which was deemed to con
stitute their reason for being. The practical needs of life to
broaden the knowledge of nature have for more than a century
caused the independent character of the natural sciences con
vincingly to appear, and this very detachment of the study
of natural philosophy has quickened the literary studies to
a sense of their own independence. The difference of method
especially, between the tAvo kinds of sciences, was too pro
nounced to allow the auxiliary character of literary studies to
be maintained. This last process of the emancipation of the
literary faculty, however, is still so imperfect, that no com
mon opinion has yet been obtained on the unity of matter,
or, if you please, on the real object of this group of sciences.
The philological, historical and philosophical studies still
seek their organic unity. But in any case it seems an
accepted fact, that the cyclus of studies will run its round
in the circle of these five faculties. Although there seems

188 §5-2. ORGANIC DIVISION [Un. II

to be a disposition abroad to let the Theological faculty be
come extinct, or to supersede it by a faculty of Philosophy,
no serious desire is perceived to enlarge the number of
faculties beyond the five, and it is scarcely conceivable that
the practical needs of life will ever warrant the increase
of this number. Neither the smaller or larger number of
departments, nor the lesser or greater number of professors,
but only the combination of studies demanded by a practical
education, decides in the end the number and the division
of the faculties.

Meanwhile it is by no means asserted that the prosecution
of science, and in connection with it the university life,
should aim exclusively at a practical education. On the con
trary, the pursuit of science for its own sake is the ideal
which must never be abandoned. We merely emphasize that
the way to this ideal does not lead through sky and clouds,
but through practical life. A science which loses itself in
speculation and in abstraction never reaches its ideal, but
ends in disaster ; and the high ideal of science will be the
more nearly realized in proportion as the thirst after and the
need of this ideal shall express themselves more strongly in
human life, so that the practical need of it shall be stimulated
by life. As the transition from unconscious into conscious life
advances, the impulse born of society increases of itself to
account for every element and every relation, and, thanks
to this impulse, the prosecution of science for its own sake
carries the day.

In connection with this it is noteworthy that the three
originally principal faculties were born of the necessity of
warding off evil. This is seen in the strongest light in the
case of the medical faculty, which still exhibits this negative
character in name, and partly even in practice. It is not
called the somatic faculty, to express the fact that the human
body is the object of its study ; nor the hygienic faculty, to
express the fact that health is the object of its choice; but
the medical, by which name the diseased body alone is desig
nated as its real object. This accords with the attention
which man bestows in real life upon his body. As long as

CHAP. IV] OF SCIENTIFIC STUDY 189

one is well and feels no indisposition, he does not inquire
into the location and the action of the organs in his body ;
and only when one feels pain and becomes ill does the pains
taking care for the body begin. Alike observation applies
to the juridical faculty. If there were no evil in the world
there would be no public authority, and it is only for the
sake of evil that the authority is instituted, that the judge
pronounces judgment, and that the making of laws is de
manded. Not for the sake of the study of law as such,
but for the sake of rendering a well-ordered human in
tercourse possible in the midst of a sinful society, did
jurisprudence undertake its work ; and the juridical faculty
came into being for the education of men who, as states
men and judges, are leaders of public life. This also applies
to the theological faculty, though not in so absolute a sense.
Because it was found that salvation for the sinner, and a
spiritual safeguard against the fatal effects of wickedness,
were indispensable, both law and gospel were demanded.
The purpose was medical, but in the Theological faculty it
was psychic, as it was somatic in the so-called Medical fac
ulty. For though it must be acknowledged that originally
the aim of the Theological faculty was not exclusively soteri-
ological, but that on the contrary it also tried to foster theti-
cally the knowledge of God, yet the call for an educated
clergy, and the concomitant prosperity of this faculty, are
due in the first place to the fact that men were needed
everywhere who would be able to act as physicians against
sin and its results. Hence it is actually the struggle against
evil in the body, in society, and in the soul which has cre
ated the impulse for these three groups of sciences, the need
of men to combat this evil, and consequently the necessity
for the rise of these three faculties. All three bear origi
nally a militant character. This cannot be said of the Artistic,
nor of the faculties of Literature and Natural Philosophy
which at a later period were formed from their circle.
In the case of these studies positive knowledge was much more
the immediate object in view, even though it must be granted
that this knowledge was pursued only rarely for its own sake,

190 § 52. ORGANIC DIVISION [Div. II

and much more for the sake of utility. One studied natural
philosophy and letters in order to become a jurist, physician,
or theologian, or to obtain power over nature. But with this
reservation it is evident that from the beginning these pro
visionally dependent faculties stood nearer to the scientific
ideal, and formally occupied a higher point of view.

If it is asked what distinctions control this actual division
of scientific labor, it is easily seen that the attention of the
thoughtful mind had directed itself in turn to man and to
nature that surrounds him ; that, as far as his own being is
concerned, man has occupied himself severally with his so
matic, psychic, and social existence ; and that even more
than these four groups of sciences, he aimed distinctively at
the knowledge of G-od. The accuracy of this division, which
sprang from practical need, is apparent. The principium of
division is the subject of science, i.e. Man, This leads to
the coordination of man himself with nature, which he rules,
and with his Grod, by whom he feels himself ruled. And this
trilogy is crossed by another threefold division, which concerns
" man " as such, even the distinction between one man and
man//, and alongside of this the antithesis between his somatic
and psychic existence. Thus the subject was induced in the
Theological faculty, to investigate the knowledge of God, and
in the faculty of natural philosophy to pursue the knowledge
of nature ; to investigate the somatic existence of man in the
Medical, his psychic existence in the Philological faculty,
and finally in the Juridical faculty to embrace all those
studies which bear upon human relationships. The boun
dary between these provinces of science is nowhere absolutely
certain, and between each two faculties there is always some
more or less disputed ground ; but this cannot be otherwise,
since the parts of the object of science are organically re
lated, and the reflection of this object in the consciousness
of the subject exhibits an equally organic character.

If science had begun with devising a scheme for the divi
sion of labor, these disputed frontier-fields of the faculties
would have been carefully distributed. Since science, how
ever, and the division of faculties both, are products of the

CHAP. IV] OF SCIENTIFIC STUDY 191

organic process of life, it could not be otherwise than that
uncertainty at the boundaries, which is the mark of all or
ganic division, here also shows itself. Should the Medical
faculty teach psychology for the sake of psychiatry and of the
psychical influences upon the body ? Does the philosophy of
nature and of law belong to the Philological, or to the Psy
chical and Juridical faculty ? Is the place for Church-law in the
Theological faculty or in the Juridical faculty, which itself
originated from it as the " Decretorum facultas," and which
for many years it claimed in the title of iuris utriusque doctor?
These questions, together with many others, have all been
solved in a practical way such as is of course open to critical
examination by self-conscious science in its Encyclopedia, but
such as a closer investigation claims an ever-increasing re
spect for the accuracy that marks the decision of practice.
The Encyclopedia of the sciences is safest, therefore, when it
does not abandon this historic track marked out by prac
tice. A speculative scheme, in which the organic-genetic
relations of the sciences are fitted to another last, would
have almost no other value than to evoke our admiration
for the ingeniousness of the writer. Thus various titles of
departments would be obtained, for which there are no
departments of study. In our review of the history of
Theologic Encyclopedia.1 it has been seen that, in the study
of Theology also, such speculations have not been spared,
and numerous departments for new and imaginary branches
of study have been formed ; but, meanwhile, practice has
continued the even tenor of its way, and real study has
been best served by this practical division. This would
not be so, if the object and the subject of science, and also
the development of life and of the consciousness of life,
stood in no necessary relation to each other ; but since this
all-sided relation cannot be denied, and the process of sci
ence and the process of life almost always keep equal step,
history offers us an important objective guarantee of accu
racy. There is a power that directs the course of our life-

1 In the translation this review of the history of Theologic Encyclopedia,
occupying in the original 432 pages, has been omitted.

T.H §53. THE FIVE FACri/TIES [Div. II

process, and there is a power that directs the course of the
process of science. This dominion does not rest in the hand
of a single individual, but, for life and science both, is in
the hand of a Spirit who stands above all individuals; and
since in both realms (in that of life as well as in that of
science) this power is exercised by one and the selfsame
Spirit, the correct idea of the organism of science comes
of itself to light in history, though it be only gradually and
not without fits and starts.

§ 53. The Five Faculties

In the preceding section the Theological faculty was num
bered with the other four, in order to state the fact that it
was born from the practical needs of life, and that it has stood
behind none of the others in the manner of formation. Its
right of primogeniture among these five can scarcely be
disputed. But however important a weight this fact may
add to the scale, it does by no means yet define the posi
tion which Theology is entitled to hold in the organism of
science. The fact may not be overlooked, that at more than
one university the faculty of Theology has practically been
abolished ; that at a number of universities it continues
merely as the child of tradition ; and that in this traditional
prolongation of its life it has undergone, more than any other
faculty, so violent a metamorphosis that at length the iden
tity of the object of its study has been entirely lost. Not
merely the need, therefore, of judicious criticism, but practice
itself places a very grave interrogation mark after this heri
tage of history, and compels, with respect to Theology, a
closer investigation into its certificate of birth and its right
of domicile. To do this, however, it is necessary that we
first orient ourselves a little with reference to the other parts
of the realm, in order to obtain a definite conception of the
other four faculties.

Since for our investigation the Philological is the most
important, we will consider that first. This faculty has not
yet attained its self-consciousness. It would have done this
much sooner, if the faculty of Natural Philosophy had

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 193

been separated from it in Germany as timely as in Holland.
Now, however, this unnatural conjunction has in many
ways confused insight into the character of Philological
study. Even when the studies of Philology and Natural
Philosophy are separated, every difficulty is by no means yet
surmounted, for then the antithesis is at once encountered be
tween the studies of Philosophy and Philology in the narrower
sense. It has more than once been proposed to allow Phi
losophy a faculty of its own and to give it the house in which
Theology lies dying. The Philological faculty would then
become exclusively the faculty of letters, and in an eminent
sense engage itself with all those studies which the littera
scripta gives rise to or renders possible. And from this point
of view a third antithesis appears : viz. the antithesis be
tween Historical studies and those of Philology proper. If
indeed the criterium for the object of Philology lies in the
littera scripta, then it both can and must investigate the his
torical documents and the historical expositions, as literary
products, but the real content of History lies outside of its
horizon. In this wise the faculty is more and more reduced,
and at length its only remaining object is that which is written,
which condemns it as an independent faculty. However
highly one may estimate its value, letters can never form
a principal group in the organism of the object; and to
a certain extent it is even contingent. The object existed
long centuries before literary life manifested itself. Hence
the name Literary faculty can in no case be taken as a start
ing-point. We owe this name to Humanism, which in this
instance also did not forsake its superficial character. " Philo
logical " is therefore in every way a richer and a more deeply
significant name, because the Logos does not refer to the
letter, but to that which the letter serves as body. For a
long time the restricted meaning of word or of language
was attached to the logos in " Philology," and consequently
Philology was interpreted as standing outside of Philosophy
and History. This, however, only showed how dimly it was
understood that every faculty must have a principal group
in the object of science as the object of its investigation. If

194 § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

word, and language still more, is a wider conception than
that of littera scripta, yet language and word can never
acquire the signiiicance of being a principal group in the
object of science. As a life-expression of man the life of
language is coordinated with the expressions of the ethical,
lusthetic and material life, and hence for each of these a
separate faculty should have to be created. As long as only
the expression of life is studied the object of science is not
grasped. This is done only when life itself is reached, the ex
pression of which is observed. This, in the case of the logos,
is, in its general sense, the life of the human consciousness. It
is this life which recapitulates itself in the logos, taken as
thought; expresses itself in the logos, taken as word; and
which for a very considerable part is at our disposal in the
literary product. And thus we have laid our hand upon a
principal group in the great object of science; for not only does
man belong to this object, but is himself the most important
factor in it, and it is in his wonderful consciousness that pres
ently the whole cosmos reflects itself. If now in this sense
the object of this faculty is understood to be the conscious
life of man, the word conscious must of necessity be taken in
its pregnant sense. Else all science could be brought under
this faculty, even that of nature. But this danger is evaded
if, on the other hand, full emphasis is placed upon the quality
of conscious life, so that in this faculty our life is in question
only from the side of our consciousness. By doing this we
keep in the path first indicated by Boeck and extended so
much farther by my esteemed colleague, Dr. J. Woltjer, in
his Rectoral oration of 1891. 1 If Boeck placed thinking too
much in the foreground, Dr. Woltjer rightly perceived that
from thinking we must go back to the Logos as reason in
man ; and it is therefore entirely in keeping with the relation
established by him, that in Philology we interpret the word
Logos as indicating that which is conscious in our life.

And thus the view-point is gained, from which the prac
tice is justified, which has ever united philosophical and
historical studies with that of Letters. Even if language and

1 The Science of the LOIJOS, by Dr. J. Woltjer, 1891.

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 195

everything that is connected with language is the vehicle of
human consciousness, the study of this vehicle does by no
means end the study of that consciousness itself. That
human consciousness also as such, according to its form and
comprehensive content, must be made the object of investi
gation, and this necessitates the formal and material study of
philosophy. Above all it should be taken into consideration
that it is not the consciousness of a single individual, but the
consciousness of man as such, and hence of humanity in its re
lation and continuous process, that is to be known ; and this
gives rise to the task of History. Hence it is the one Logos,
taken as the consciousness of humanity, which provides the
motive for Linguistic and Historic and Philosophic studies ; so
that no reasonable objection can be raised against the name of
Philological faculty. " Logoi " was indeed the word used
originally for an historical narrative, and this gave historians
the name of Logographers. In this way the combination of
Linguistic, Historic, and Philosophic studies does not lead to
an aggregate, but to an organic unity, which in an excellent
manner locates a principal group of the object of science in
a realm of its own. It is man in antithesis with nature, and
in man his logical, in antithesis with his bodily manifestation,
which determine the boundaries of this realm. The unity
that lies in this may not be abandoned.

Meanwhile let it be observed, that the task of this faculty
should not be extensively, but intensively interpreted. The
object of its existence is not the study of every conceivable
language, nor the investigation of all history, nor yet the
systematizing of the whole content of the human conscious
ness. The Faculty, as such, must direct its attention to
the consciousness of humanity taken as an organic unity,
and thus must concentrate its power upon that in which the
process of this human consciousness exhibits itself. It does
not cast its plummet into a stagnant pool, but away out in
the stream of human life. Its attention is not riveted by
what vegetates in isolation, but by that which lives and asso
ciates with and operates within the life of humanity. For
this reason the classical and richly developed languages from

196 §5.-;. Tin-: FIVK FACTLTIKS [Di\. n

the old world and the new- are so vastly more important to
this Faculty, as such, than the defective languages of the
more supine and undeveloped nations. It does not look
upon Literature as an aggregate of everything that has been
handed down in writing, but as an organic conception, which
only embraces that which is excellent in form and content.
History also is only that in which the human consciousness
has developed strength to bring the human life to the fuller
unfolding of its idea. And as material Philosophy, it merely
offers that which has advanced the current of human thought,
and has enabled its different tendencies to express themselves
correctly. The proposal to overwhelm this Faculty with the
study of all conceivable languages and peoples and conceptions
must therefore be declined. This deals the death-blow to
this Faculty, makes it top-heavy, and causes it to lose all
unity in its self-consciousness. In order to maintain itself as
a faculty it must distinguish between main interests and side-
issues, and maintain unity in multiformity, and keep its
attention fixed upon that which in continuous process has
ever more richly unfolded the consciousness of our human
race, has enabled it to fuller action, and has brought it to
clearer consciousness. We do not deny that other languages
also, peoples and conceptions may be the object of scien
tific research, but this sort of study must annex itself to
the work of this faculty, and not consume its strength.
This self-limitation is not only necessary in order that it
may handle its own material, but also that it may not lose
its hold on life, and thus may keep itself from conflict
with practical demands. Duty, therefore, demands that
in the study of the human consciousness it should not
swing away to the periphery, but that it shall take its station
at the centrum, and never lose from sight the fact that the
object of its investigation is the conscious life of our human
race taken as an organic unity. With this in view it inves
tigates language as the wondrous instrument given as vehicle
to our consciousness; the richest development which language
has proved capable of in the ('fttsxinnl luHf/uni/ex of ancient and
modern times ; and the full-grown and ripe fruit which Ian-

CKAI-. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 197

guage has produced in classical Literature. Next to this study
of language as vehicle and incorporation of our consciousness,
follows the investigation into the activities of this conscious
ness in the life of humanity, i.e. the broad study of History.
And then, at length, formal and material Philosophy follow;
the first to investigate conscious life in its nature, and the
laws which govern it ; the second to answer the question,
how the " World-Image '' (Weltbild) has gradually formed
itself in this consciousness, and in what form it exhibits
itself at present. This order of succession certainly gives
rise to the objection, that formal philosophy should properly
lead the van ; nevertheless, we deem it necessary to maintain
it, because formal as well as material philosophy assumes a
preceding development of language, and hence also a preced
ing history.

The Medical faculty being of less importance for our investi
gation may therefore be more briefly considered. We for our
part do not desire the name of Medical faculty to be changed
into Somatological or Philosomatical faculty. We would not
have the fact lost from sight that this science did not origi
nate from the thirst after a knowledge of our body, but
from the need of seeking healing for its diseases. For this
implies the confession that our general human condition
is neither sound nor normal, but is in conflict with a destruc
tive force, against which help from a saving power must be
sought and can be found. This, however, does not weaken
the demand that the medical character of these studies should
not too absolutely be maintained. Obstetrics in itself is
no real medical study. Moreover, medical study has always
assumed the knowledge of the healthy body. And Hygiene,
which demands an ever broader place, is not merely medical -
prophylactic, but in part stands in line with the doctrine
of diet, dress, etc., as tending to the maintenance of the
healthy body. On these grounds it seems undeniable, that
the object of investigation for this faculty is the human
body, or better still, man from his somatic side. Already
for this reason the effort to take up the body of animals

198 § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

into this faculty should be protested against ; and warnings
should be sounded against entertaining too sanguine expec
tations from vivisection, and against the altogether too bold
exploits which it adventures. In itself, veterinary surgery
would never have become anything more than an empiric
knowledge ; and the insight it derives from the Medical
faculty is a mercy which from our human life descends to
suffering animals. But Darwinism should never tempt us in
this faculty to coordinate man and animal under the concep
tion of "living things." If the human body had riot been sub
ject to disease, there would never have been a medical science.
Vegetation also has its diseases and invites medical treat
ment ; but who will include the healing of plants in the
Medical faculty? The human lody must remain the exclu
sive object for the complex of medical studies. The pro-
plastic forms also, or preformations which were created for
this bodv in the vegetable and animal kingdom, must indeed

»/o o

be investigated with a view to this body, but the studies
which this investigation provokes serve exclusively as sub-
st>Uary helps, and should not be permitted to destroy the
boundary between the human body and these preformations.
In the same way the boundary should be guarded which
divides the somatic life of man from his psychical life.
This psychical life is the heritage of the Philological and not
of the Medical faculty. If this boundary be crossed, the
Medical faculty must subordinate the psychical phenomena
to the somatic life, and cannot rest until, under the pressure
of its own object, it has interpreted this psychical life
materialistically. But neither should it be forgotten that an
uncertain and mingled region lies between the somatic and
the psychic life. Both sides of human life stand in organic
relation. The body affects the soul, and the soul the body.
Hence, there is on one side a physico-psychical study which
must trace the psychical phenomena on physical ground, and
on the other side a psychico-physical study which determines
the influence exercised by the soul upon the body. And
this must serve as a rule, that Psychology derives its physi
cal data from the Medical faculty ; while on the other hand

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 199

tlie Medical derives its psychological data from the Philo
logical faculty. That the Theological faculty also comes into
consideration here is not denied ; but since it is the very
purpose of this investigation to point out the place in the
organism of science which belongs to the Theological faculty,
we pass it by for the present. Only let the necessary obser
vation be made, that it is contradictory to the peculiar
character of the medical studies to leave the important
decision concerning the imputability of guilt in the process
of punishment to be accounted for by this faculty. Finally
a last boundary must be drawn for the medical faculty on the
side of the juridical faculty. For on that side also medical
science steps constantly beyond the lines of its propriety. It
demands, indeed, that public authority shall unconditionally
adopt the results from medical and hygienic domains into civil
ordinances, and shall execute what it prescribes. This abso
lute demand should be declined, first, because these results
lack an absolute, and sometimes even a constant character ;
and in the second place, because it is not the task of
medical, but of juridical science to investigate in how far
the claims of the body should be conditioned by the higher
claims of the psychic and social life.

Within these boundaries these medical studies naturally
divide themselves, according to their object, into studies
which investigate the healthy body; which trace the phe
nomena of disease; and which have for their purpose the
cure of these abnormal phenomena. The study of the body
as such, i.e. in its healthy state, divides itself equally
naturally into the somatical and psychico-somatical, while the
somatic studies divide again into anatomy and physiology.
The sciences which have for their object the deviations from
the normal, i.e. the sick body, are pathology and psycho-
pathology. The studies, finally, which direct themselves to
Therapeutics, divide into medical, surgical, and psychiatri
cal, to which Medicine and applied Medica join themselves.
Only the place of Obstetrics is not easily pointed out, be
cause a normal delivery, without pain, would not be a path
ological phenomenon, and to this extent Obstetrics would

200 §53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

not find its motive in the medical, but in the somatical char
acter of these studies. As such it should belong as a tech
nical department to Physiology. From the view-point of
Revelation, however, delivery with pain is an abnormal
phenomenon, and to this extent we see no difficulty in coordi
nating obstetrics after the old style with medical and surgical
science. With the exception of these incidental questions it
is readily seen, meanwhile, that as long as the Medical science
confines itself to these independent studies, it still lacks its
higher unity, and cannot be credited with having come to a
clear self-consciousness. This would only be possible if it
could grasp the deeper cause of the corruption from which
all diseases originate ; if, on the other hand, it could expose
the relation between this cause and the reagents ; and thus
could crown its labor by the production of a Medical
Philosophy.

The Juridical faculty claims a somewhat larger share of
our attention, since it stands in a closer relation to that of
Theology. In the object of science we found its province
in man, — not in himself, but as taken in Ids relation to
other men. This, however, must not be interpreted in the
sense that man is merely a social being, and that therefore
juridical study must lapse into sociology. The origin of
this faculty is a protest against this. From the beginning
it was a faculty for the study of Sancta Justitia, devoted to
the education of those who were to administer the affairs of
government and exercise the judicial function. Both these
conceptions, of government and judicial power, were derived
from the fundamental conception of the Supreme Authority.
The folly of separating the powers of state had not yet been
invented, and the intrinsic unity of all legislative, judicial,
mid governing power stood still firm in the common mind.
Authority was exercised over men upon earth ; this authority
was not original with man, but was conferred of God upon
the magistracy. Hence the way in which this authority was
to be exercised by the magistracy was not left to the arbi
trariness of despotism, but this authority fulfilled its end

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 201

only when it operated in harmony with the order of human
society ordained of God. The laws and regulations to
which this authority bound its subjects and itself were
obliged, therefore, to meet a fixed claim ; and this claim had
been established by God himself in the ordinances of his
Creation, and had received its fuller interpretation in his
special Revelation. Hence, though whatever the magistracy
ordained as law was actually valid, as such, within the
circle of their authority, and though as such it bound the
conscience formally, the obligation that this enforced law
should legitimate itself as law before a higher tribunal, and
in other ways be corrected, could not be ignored. From
this obligation the study of law in the higher sense is born ;
for profound and scientific study alone can obtain an insight
into the nature of law in general, and into the special rela
tions of law, as they should be in order to correspond to
the relations which have been divinely ordained in creation
and by history mutually between man and man or among
groups of men.

The view, which formed the point of departure in this,
was accurate in every way, viz., that there would have been
no need of a magistracy, nor of the regulation of law, nor of
a consequent study of law, if there had been no moral evil
among men. In a sinless state, the correspondence of the
social life to the demands of the holiest law would be spon
taneous. Hence, when this faculty originated, it was still
the common confession that sin alone was the cause that one
man was clothed with compulsory authority over the other.
In a sinless society every occasion for the appearance of such
a compulsory authority would fall awaj*, because every one
would feel himself immediately and in all things bound by
the authority of God. And so it has come to pass that the
Juridical faculty, as well as the Medical and the Theological,
has disclosed the tendency to oppose an existing evil. If
the Theological faculty tended to militate against evil in the
heart of man, and the Medical to overcome evil in the human
body, in like manner the Juridical faculty has tended to
resist evil in the realm of Justice. In connection with this,

202 § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

the Juridical faculty bore a consecrated character. It did
not study human relations in its o\vii self-sufficiency, but
realized its calling to lead the authority imposed of God
upon men into the path of Right ordained by Him. Mean
while this almost sacred origin of the Juridical faculty does
not prevent science from introducing the logical purpose
of all science more prominently into the foreground of the
Juridical domain, and from giving an account of the place
which these studies also occupy in the organic unit of
science. Viewed in this way, a proper, well-defined place
in the object of general science should also be allotted to
this study ; and in this sense there is no objection against
seeking this proper domain of the juridical science, this
provincia juris, in the social relations of man. The great
development of the sociological and economical auxiliary
departments shows, that the study of law actually moves in
this direction, while no one seriously thinks of separating all
sociological and economical studies from this faculty and
of classing them with the Philological faculty, or, as far
as the material object of economical studies is concerned,
with the natural philosophical.

It would be a serious matter, however, if for this reason
the original juridical character of this faculty should be
abandoned, and if gradually and by preference it should be
allowed to merge into a sociological faculty. If there is
apportioned to this faculty the study of all that originates
the social life of man, makes it real, and belongs to its
nature in its broad extent, then ethics would gradually
claim a lodging with it, the life of science and art would
come under its care, pedagogy would have to recognize its
authority, and the technique also of agriculture, commerce,
and of trade would partly come under its rule. It is
necessary, therefore, to limit the object of tins faculty by a
more accurate definition, and that closer definition can be no
other than that this faculty is concerned with human society
only in so far as this calls out the Jurat Relationships. Thus
authority will ever be the characteristic of this faculty,
since authority alone is able to verify these Jural Relation-

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 203

ships as Law, to maintain them where they are normal, to
modify them where they are abnormal, and, where they are
still undeveloped, gradually to cause them to emerge. This
is as valid for the Jural Relationships between the magis
tracy and their subjects as for the Jural Relationships of
these subjects mutually, and of the nations at large. The
sociological and economical studies in this faculty are not
charged with tracing abstractly the organic relation among
people at every point, nor yet with viewing from every side
the relation between our human social life and property ;
but it is their exclusive task to obtain such an insight into
this twofold and very important relation as shall interpret
the Jural Relationships it implies, and shall discover to the
magistracy what in this domain it must and must not do.

In fact, the study of the Juridical faculty will always
be governed by the principles professed with reference to
authority. If authority is considered to have its rise from
the State, and the State is looked on as the highest natural
form of life in the organism of humanity, the tendency
cannot fail to spring up to deepen the significance of the
State continuously, and even to extend the lines of authori
tative interference, which Plato pushed so far that even
pedagogy and morals were almost entirely included in the
sphere of the State. Indeed, more than one sociologist in
the Juridical faculty is bent upon having his light shine
more and more across the entire psychical life of man, in
the religious, ethical, cesthetical, and hygienic sense. If
sooner or later the chairs of this faculty are arranged and
filled by a social-democratic government, this tendency
will undoubtedly be developed. If, on the other hand, it
is conceded that authority over man can rest nowhere
originally but in God, and is only imposed by Him upon
men with regard to a particular sphere, this impulse to
continuous extension is curbed at once, and everything that
does not belong to this particular sphere falls outside of the
Juridical faculty. In the moral life, which is not included
here, God himself is the immediate judge, who pronounces
sentence in the conscience and various temporal judgments

204 § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

ill the world, and who will utter final judgment in the last
day : while public authority must appoint law only upon
the earth, and must pronounce sentence as judge upon
that alone which can be legally established and maintained
in the external relations of life by compulsion. Hence ethics,
as touching the relation of man in foro interno, will remain
in the Theological and Philological faculty ; pedagogy, as
bearing upon the psychic life, belongs in the Philological
faculty ; hygiene remains with the Medical ; the material
side of property finds its study in the faculty of Natural
Philosophy ; while all that touches the real technics is
treated by the Artes and not by the Scientice. Thus the
Juridical faculty stands in organic relation to all the others ;
it cannot forego the assistance of any ; it must borrow data
(Lehnsiitze) from all ; but it does not lose itself in these
studies, while the object of its own science is the social
life of man, not as abandoned to whim or accident, but as
governed by an authority, and thus bound to a law, which
is indeed framed by man, but which finds its deepest ground
and hence its binding rule in Him who created this human
social life, and Avho, in the interests of its outward relations,
on account of sin, conferred authority upon man over man.

The science of Law, therefore, is not only to shed light
upon the relation of the magistrate and the subject (public
law and penal law), upon the relation of citizen to citizen
(civil law, commercial law, etc.), and upon the relation of
nation to nation (international law); but, before all this, it
must develop the idea of Justice itself, so that it can be well
understood at what view-point it takes its stand, and accord
ing to what rule the development of law must be guided.
To accomplish this, it cannot rest content with the investi
gation of existing Jural institutions, their comparison with
others, and a study of their historical origin. All this can
never effect more than the knowledge of formal law; while
Justice exhibits itself in its majesty only when it obtains its
adamantine point of support in our psychical existence, and
of necessity flows from what, to our deepest sense of life, is
highest and holiest. The question whether one worships

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 205

this highest and holiest in the living God, or whether it is
sought in the pantheistic idea, or in the pressure of natural
life, determines, really, the entire course of our further studies.
But in any case the science of law must fix its point of de
parture, formulate its idea of justice, and make clear the vital
principle of law. To do this it must borrow its data from
Theology, Psychology, and Philosophy in the general sense,
but by a proper Philosophy of law it must work out these bor
rowed data independently with a view to Justice, and unite
them organically into one whole, in which the self-conscious
ness of Law expresses itself. The Encyclopedia of the science
of law does not preclude the necessity of a separate study of
the philosophy of law. For the object of Encyclopedia is not
law itself, but the science of law, and though it is self-evident
that there can be no exposition of the science of Law as an
organic whole without due consideration of the questions
what law is, what law is born from, and how we can learn
to understand law, yet the answer of these does not rest
with the Encyclopedia, but is accepted in the Encyclopedia
as already determined ; and this is only possible when in the
organism of the Science of law the Encyclopedia also finds
the Philosophy of law, with its results.

By this we do not detract in the least from the signifi
cance of the historical study of law. That historical study
includes by no means merely the explanation of existing Ju-
ral institutions in their origin, but at the same time points out
the forms which the character of our human nature, in con
nection with national and climatic differences, have given to
law, and according to what process these forms have devel
oped themselves one from the other. It also appears from
these historical studies, that the development of law has been
more normal in one direction, and that in definite circles the
development of law has exhibited a classical superiority.
What we contend is, that no criticism or even a mere judg
ment is possible, unless a critic is present subjectively in the
investigator, and the authority which gives law its sanction
determined in advance. Even where this criticism is rejected
from principle, and in a pantheistic sense the distinction be-

206 § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

tween right and wrong is actually abolished, in order to recog
nize law only in that which is in force as such as long as it
maintains itself, there is a premise already in this, and back
of this premise an entire system, that dominates our entire
science of law. Even where one eliminates the Philosophy
of law, the start is made insensibly, i.e. without a clear
self-consciousness, from a point which the Philosophy of law
alone can scientifically justify ; and for this reason the omis
sion of this study is at heart an insincerity.

Concerning the grouping of the several departments of
study in this faculty, no one will longer defend the method
of Kirchner of placing the fountain-studies, such as herme-
neutics, criticism, and diplomatics in the foreground as the
exegetical group. These are simply not juridical departments,
but philological, and are here specially applied to documents
of juridical contents. In this faculty also the grouping
should derive its principle of division (principium division is*)
from its object, and hence this principium can only lie in
the several elements, among which the Jural relationships
are observed, i.e. government and subject, people and peo
ple, citizen and citizen. The fourth relation, God and
Sovereignty, wre purposely omit, because law also runs its
course where this relation is not recognized or is even
denied, and where the prerogative of Sovereignty is ex
plained in other ways. From this, however, it follows that
the three lines of relations which we have named form only
the particular part in the juridical science, and that these
three -tudies, which together form the particular part, must
be preceded by a general part on .Law as such. This general
part should embrace the two departments : (1) The philoso
phy of Law ; and (2) the history of Law ; to which, for rea
sons fully developed above, Encyclopedia can be added
(although, even as with the other faculties really a philo
sophical study), in an irregular way. Of course it is not
denied that the three portions of the particular part have
each a history of their own, but we are so fully convinced
of the common fundamental trait which dominated these
parts in every period and with every people, that Roman

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 207

law, Germanic law, etc., are generally spoken of in an uni
versal sense. Upon tins general part follows the particular
part, which falls into three : Public law, International law,
Civil law, each with their auxiliary sciences. Public law
divides itself again into public law in the narrower sense
and Penal law, and to penal law the theory of procedure is
added as a subdivision. Those which, on the other hand, are
taken separately as political sciences, i.e. statistics, econom
ics, politics, diplomatics, sociology, etc., are only auxiliary
sciences which keep public law especially, but civil law also
in part, from feeling their way at random, and help them to
walk in the broad light of the knowledge of facts, condi
tions, and relations. The difference is that in olden times
the unconscious life was stronger, and hence also the sense
of law, since custom of itself determined all sorts of rela
tions which now in our more conscious life are only obtained
as the result of investigation. Of course material goods are
here considered only in so far as they are subsumed under
man, and thereby are brought under the conception of law,
or at least can exercise an influence upon the decision of the
relations of law. The relation between gold and silver, for
instance, would of itself be entirely indifferent to the jurist,
but it becomes of importance to him as soon as the question
arises, in what way the government in its monetary sys
tem is to decide the relation between them. We cannot
enter into further detail. To analyze more closely the sev
eral characteristics of civil law, commercial law, maritime
law, etc., lies not in our province, and the fact that legal pro
cedure, political science, etc., bear less a scientific than a tech
nical character is self-evident. Our only purpose has been to
explain that side of the science of law on which it lies organ
ically linked in the organism of general science, and to indi
cate the partly sacred character which the Juridical science
must maintain, for Justitia must remain sancta or cease to be
Justitia, and for this reason it stands in immediate relation
to the two great problems, of how authority from God comes
to man, and whether or no it has been conferred upon man
simply because of sin.

208 § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

The faculty of Natural Philosophy can be considered more
briefly. There is only one difference of opinion about the
object of physical science. This arises from the fact that
the mathematical and arithmetical sciences were formerly
classed with Philosophy, while at present the tendency is
stronger to class them with the physical sciences as the sci
ences of the relations of physical data. Those who hold
these relations to be unreal, or at least explain them in the
main as subjective, are obliged, for the sake of logical conse
quence, to prefer the custom of the old philosophy, and group
these departments with the psychical studies. Since, how
ever, the impression has become more universal that science
in general and therefore each particular science, must seek its
strength in the knowledge of the relations even more than in
the knowledge of the elements among which these relations
exist, it is not probable that with reference to the disposi
tion of Mathematics and Arithmetic the subjective tendency
will again gain the day. It is entirely true that our human
consciousness is adjusted to measure and to number ; else
the most industrious effort would never bring us the concep
tion of geometry or arithmetic. It is also entirely true that
the la\vs which dominate the combination of measures and
numbers, or, if you please, the Logica of measure and number,
must find a point of connection in our human consciousness ;
else we should never be able to propound or solve an abstract
problem in mathematics or arithmetic. This, however, does
not take away the fact that it is the cosmos outside of us
that iirst brings measure and number to our consciousness.
( )n this ground there seems to be no objection to classing
Mathematics, Algebra, and Arithmetic as three formal depart
ments under the physical sciences. For the material depart
ments, however, the principium of division here too lies in
the object of physical science. This object ascends from the
elements of nature to the cosmos, and in this ascent it fol
lows the scale of the so-called natural kingdoms of our earth,
and of that which lias been observed in the cosmos physically
outside of our earth. Hence those departments come first,
which investigate the elements (matter as well as force), and

CHAP. IV] § 53. THE FIVE FACULTIES 209

which are to be embraced under Physics and Chemistry.
Then come the sciences which investigate certain groups of
elements in their organic relations, i.e. Mineralogy, Botany,
and Zoology. After that come the studies which direct
themselves to our earth as such, viz., Geology, Geography in
its broadest extent, and Meteorology. And lastly follows
Astronomy ; and finally Cosmology, as embracing the whole.
Let no one imagine, however, that all these sciences as
such belong to the so-called exact sciences. No one will be
able to assert this of Cosmogony, and the evolution-theory
of Darwin sufficiently shows that natural philosophy cannot
afford to limit itself to the simple results of weight, number,
and measure. The simple observation of what one hears, sees,
tastes, and handles, even with the aid of instrumental rein
forcement of our senses, and under proper verification, is
never anything more than the primitive point of departure
of all science and stands formally in line with common per
ception. Only by the discovery of the laws which exercise
general rule in that which is particular does this science
raise itself to its second stadium, and become able to exer
cise authority over matter. But though in this way it ma
terially aids in establishing the dominion which was given
man over all created things, and though physical science
has contributed the valuable result that it has exalted the
independent human consciousness and has set us free to so
large an extent from the dominion of matter, it has by no
means yet satisfied the highest scientific need. As long as it
knows nothing beyond the several data and the law by which
these data are governed, the thinking mind cannot rest. It
searches also after the relations among the several king
doms of nature, between our earth and the other parts of the
cosmos, between all of nature outside of us and man, and
finally after the origin of nature and of the tie which binds
us to it, even in our body. These are the points of connec
tion between the faculty of Natural Philosophy and the other
faculties ; and the fact that physical science inclines more
and more to announce itself as the only true science, in order
to coordinate man with the objects of zoology, and to explain

210 §53. THE FIVE FACULTIES [Div. II

the psychical life materialistically, shows how ill-advised it
is to allow this physical science to make only practical ad
vances, without attaining encyclopedically to self-conscious
ness and giving itself an account of the place which it
occupies in the great organism of science. A scientific Ency
clopedia, worthy of the name, is the very thing it altogether
lacks ; and only when it makes serious work of this can the
question be answered, whether as a culminating department
Philosophy of nature belongs to this faculty.

If now the outline of the four named faculties has been
drawn fairly correctly, the question arises whether the
Theological faculty joins itself to them in organic connec
tion, with a proper object, and in good coordination. To
make this clear it will not do to begin by making the con
ception of Theology fluid. All judgment concerning the
Juridical faculty is rendered impossible so soon as you
interpret it now as the facultas juris, or legal faculty, and
again as the facultas societatis, or sociological faculty. Much
less will a way of escape be discovered from the labyrinth
on theological ground, if by Theology you understand, now,
that which was originally understood by it, and again
supersede this verified conception by an entirely different
one, such as, for instance, the Science of Religion. The
study of the nature of Theology is in order in the follow
ing division, so that in this chapter we can do no other than
state the conception which we start out from, and after that
review the Theological faculty, and in historical connection
with this determine the place of Theology in the organism
of science. Because of the importance of the subject we
do this in a separate chapter.

CHAPTER V

THEOLOGY LN THE OEGANISM OF SCIENCE

§ 54. Is there a Place for Theology in the Organism of

Science ?

The raising of this question intends no coquetry what
ever with much-boasted "science." The theologian who,
depressed by the small measure of respect cherished at
present by public opinion for theological stud}r, seeks favor
with public opinion by loudly proclaiming that what he
studies is science too, forfeits thereby his right to the
honorable name of theologian. Suppose it were demon
strated that Theology is no science, but that, like the
study of music, it is called to enrich our spiritual life,
and the consciousness of that life, in an entirely different
way, what would this detract from its importance? Does
Mozart rank lower than Edison, because he did not work
enchantments, like Edison, with the data of the exact
sciences? The oft-repeated attempt to exclude Theology
from the company of the sciences, and to coordinate it, as
something mystical, rather with the world of sounds, was in
itself entirely praiseworthy, and has commanded more respect
from public opinion in general than the scholastic distinc
tions. If thus it should be shown that Theology has no
place in the organism of science, it would not lower it in the
least, even as, on the other hand, Theology would gain no
merit whatever from the fact (if it be proved) that it has
its rank among the sciences. In no case may Theology
begin with renouncing its own self-respect. And those
theologians who are evidently guilty of this, and who, being
more or less ashamed of Theology, have tried, by borrowing
the scientific brevet, to put it forth in new forms, have been
punished for their cowardice. For the non-theological science

211

212 §54. IS TIIKKE A PLACE FOR THEOLOGY [Div. II

has compelled them to cut out the heart of Theology, and to
transform it into a department of study which shall lit into the
framework of naturalistic science. Hence we delinitely de
clare that our defence of the scientific character of Theology
has nothing in common with this questionable effort. No
Calvinist takes part in the renunciation of our character as
theologians. And now to the point.

When treating of the historical development of the facul
ties it was shown that the general organism of science allows
itself to be analyzed into its parts along plain and clearly
discernible lines. Thinking man distinguishes in himself
first between that which relates to his inner or psychical,
and outward or somatical, existence. He distinguishes in
the second place between his own personal existence and his
social life with others, as far as this is not governed by the
personal existence of the individuals. And in the third place
he distinguishes between human life and the life of nature.
This division comes of itself, is unsought, sees itself justi
fied by the history of the faculties, and is in entire agree
ment with the needs of practical life. Now the question is
whether, along with these four, there remains yet a fifth inde
pendent part or organ in the organism of science. And the
answer lies at hand, that a final distinction still remains,
even the distinction between man and his Grod. Thus
in the complete object of science we have four antitheses
and five independent parts: (1) God and his creation;

(2) in that creation the rest of creation and man ; (3) in
man first the distinction between his material and spiritual
existence, and, again, (4) the antithesis between unity and
multiplicity. Or, if you please, five independent and yet
organically connected objects present themselves to think
ing man, viz. : (1) his God, (2) his psychical existence,

(3) his somatical existence, (4) his existence as a member
of humanity, and (5) nature outside of man. This divi
sion corresponds fully to the Theological faculty (object:
God), the Philological (the human soul, •^fi^), the Medical
(the human body, o-wfia), the Juridical (the legal relation
ships among men), and Natural Philosophy (the cosmos out-

CHAP. V] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE ? 213

side of man). And this analysis of the entire organism into
five parts causes the organic relation among the parts, at
least in the case of the four faculties already outlined, to
be clearly discerned, as well in the object itself as in the
reflection of it in the subject, and develops the subdivisions
organically in each of the four parts.

Nothing is gained, on the other hand, by the notion that
Theology has religious feeling, subjective religion, the phe
nomena of piety, etc., for its object, and that for this rea
son it is not to be taken as Theology, but as the Science of
Religion. It is impossible in an organic sense to coordinate
man's psychical existence, man's somatical existence, man
as subdivision of humanity, and nature outside of man, and
then, as a fifth wheel to the wagon, man's religious feeling.
For this religious feeling belongs to man's psychic existence,
and the study of it as such tends to investigate the object
man. Hence the religious feeling cannot be an indepen
dent part in the object to be investigated, distinguished
from the other coordinated parts by an essential difference.
This religious feeling is very important, and it is certainly
right to investigate this phenomenon in the life of man
and of humanity; but this religious life is coordinate with
his ethical, sesthetical, and intellectual life ; and hence be
longs to his psychical existence. In this way these studies
come of themselves under the Philological faculty, and can
never occasion the rise of a separate faculty of Theology.

One objection only can be raised. From the view-point
of the Trichotomists it can be asserted that man does not
consist of body and soul, but of body, soul, arid spirit, and that
it is therefore entirely rational, by the side of a faculty for
the body and a faculty for the soul, to place a third faculty,
which has the spirit (jrvev^a) of man for its object, and that
this should be the Theological. Thus next to a Somatology
and a Psychology, there should also be a Pneumatology as
"Dritte im Bunde." This objection, however, cannot stand.
The organism of science cannot be analyzed, or, if you please,
divided, according to the measure of a distinction accepted
only by a single school, but disputed by other schools, and

214 § 54. IS THERE A PLACE FOR THEOLOGY [Div. II

finding no echo in the universal human sense. With all
the Reformed we reject the Trichotomy, at least in so far as
it assumes three substances in man. We are Dichotomists.
Even if the distinction between soul and spirit (^f%^ and
TrvevfAa) were able to maintain itself to a certain extent,
body, soul, and spirit could never be coordinated. But the
antithesis should be between body and soul, and within
that soul the distinction between the psychical and the
pneumatical should be sought. Even they who speak of a
faculty of the Science of Religion are well aware that nothing
can be done with the pneuma as such, wherefore they have
thrown themselves upon religion, as being a very compli
cated expression of life and rich in phenomenal life. The
pneumatical per se would not be capable of investigation to
any considerable extent. Hence along this way there is no
possibility of pointing out a proper ground in the object of
general science for a science of Theology, and there can be
no question of a Theological faculty. Both are possible only
when you come to the antithesis of self-conscious man and
his G-od, so that you find the object of your faculty not in
religion, but in G-od.

But even this by itself will not suffice. Not so much
because it will not answer to coordinate God with the
incorporeal, with the soul, the body politic, or nature. For
the distinction could well be made between the creator and
creation, in the creation between man and nature, and in
man between his body and soul. This would be no logical
error. But the difficulty is, that in science, as taken in
this chapter, man is the thinking subject, and not God;
that this thinking subject as such must stand above the
object of science, and must be able to investigate it, and
to grasp it with his understanding. And this he is well
able to do with nature, with our body, soul, and body politic,
but not with God, taken as an object of our human science.
Thinking man, taken as subject over against God as object, is
a logical contradiction in terms. It remains an incontestable
truth (1 Cor. ii. 11) that "the tilings of God none knoweth.
save the Spirit of God." Man himself would stand lie fore

CHAP. V] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE? 215

us a closed mystery, if \ve were not man ourselves and thus
able from ourselves to form our conclusions as to others.
"For who among men knoweth the things of a man, save
the spirit of the man, which is in him?" With man, ac
cordingly, his phenomenal manifestation may always serve
us ; observation is possible ; and the multiplicity of objects,
through comparison, may bring you to some clue. But
with God taken as object, all this forsakes us. In the most
absolute sense, He is univocus. From yourself (at least so
long as He has not Himself revealed to you the creation
after His image) you can conclude nothing concerning
Him; neither can you see or hear or perceive Him in any
conceivable way. For which reason it is entirely logical
that the naturalistic tendency in science has not hesitated
to cancel Theology, and that the Free University at Brus
sels, and after her more than one university in America,
have opened no faculty, or "Department," as it is called in
America, for Theology. We can also understand that the
Theologians who have broken with Special Revelation have
refused to walk any longer in the old paths, have abandoned
God (6 tfeo?) as object of science, and have declared: We
can investigate religion, but not Grod. And no fault could
have been found with this, had they faced the consequence
of this metamorphosis of the object, and after the demoli
tion of the Theological faculty transferred their study of
religion to the Philological faculty.

Something very different presents itself, on the other
hand, when the old definition is readopted, that the science
of Theology finds its object of investigation in the revealed,
ectypal knowledge of Grod; which definition we hold our
selves, but which can be explained only in the following
chapter. It is enough here to recall that, according to
this representation, God alone knows Himself (" archetypal
knowledge of God," cognito Dei archetypa), and that there
is no created being that can know aught of Him, except
He himself reveals something from His self-knowledge and
self-consciousness in a form that falls within the compre
hension of the creature ("ectypal knowledge of God," cog-

21<> §54. IS THERE A PLACE FOR THEOLOGY [Div. II

nitio Dei ectypa). Had this revelation, now, taken place in
the form of complete analysis and synthesis, it would satisfy
at once the most rigorous claims of our scientific wants, and
would simply have to be inserted into the result of our other
scientific work; just as in an historical sketch of an event,
in which you yourself have played an important role, you
simply insert and embody without further examination that
which you yourself have planned and achieved, because you
know your personal part in a way which does not provoke
a closer investigation. Such, however, is not the character
of this revelation, for it presents itself in such a form that
all sorts of data are given, from which you are obliged
to frame the result. Understood in this way, the com
plex of all that belongs to this revelation forms an object
which, in its starting-point and end, is a unit (einheit-
lich); which invites investigation; and which by scientific
effort must be transposed into a form that shall satisfy the
claims of our human consciousness. Suppose that still more
Egyptological discoveries were to be made, and, what is not
impossible, that a number of inscriptions and communica
tions were brought to light concerning a thus far lesser
known Pharaoh; that monuments of his activity were un
earthed; and that you were supplied with all sorts of
letters, statistics, and records of his reign; all these dis
coveries would invite and enable you scientifically to ex
plain the historical phenomenon of this prince. Then.
however, the object of your investigation would still be
Pharaoh himself, and not the knowledge of his person,
simply because all these monuments and documents were
not erected and written by him for the sake of giving you
a specially intended representation of his person. But now
imagine the other case. Suppose that an Eastern despot
had purposed to hand down to succeeding generations, a
particular representation of his person and work, which
did not correspond to reality, and to this end had prepared
numerous monuments and documents; then from these his
real figure in history could not be known, but only that
representation of himself which he had intended. And the

CHAP. V] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE ? 217

object of jour investigation would not be that despot him
self, but "the knowledge of his person," such as he had
purposed to hand down to posterity. And this is the case
here. God has not unintentionally left behind Him traces
of His works and revelations of His thoughts in monuments
and documents, from which we are to search out who God is.
But purposely, and fully conscious of what He was doing,
the Lord our God has imparted a knowledge of His Being-
such as He desired that this knowledge should be. And
He has done this in such a way that this revelation does not
contain His absolute image, but conveys this knowledge in
that particular form which alone can be of service to you.
What we supposed in the case of the Asiatic despot to have
sprung from the desire to have a different image of himself
outlive him from that which he had exhibited in reality,
takes place here by means of the third term of comparison
(tertium comparationis). The image which is purposely ex
hibited here is different from the real Being, simply because
it is only in that definite form, "according to the measure of
man" (pro mensura hominis), that it can be taken up by us.
We are therefore fully authorized to say that that which
presents itself to us in these monuments and documents is
not the knowledge of the real Being of God, which we are
to search out from them, but, on the contrary, that in these
monuments and documents lies an image of God, drawn by
Himself, such as He desires us to receive. Hence, when
we investigate these monuments and documents, the object
which we search out is not the Divine Being, but that
ectypal knowledge, of God, which is posited in them by God
Himself, and which corresponds entirely to the character of
our human nature and our human consciousness. The in
vestigation of those monuments and documents, and the
search after the ectypal knowledge of God contained there- \
in, is a scientific task in an equally rigorous sense as, in the
supposed case, the historic expounding of the image of such
a Pharaoh or Asiatic despot.

We admit, of course, that in this section it is only an
hypothesis that the Lord our God has placed such monu-

£18 § 54. IS THERE A PLACE EUR THEOLOGY [Div. II

inents and documents at our disposal, that He has purposely
hid iu them an image of Himself, and that it is possible for
us to obtain this ectypal knowledge from them. We only
wanted to render it apparent, that with this hypothesis the
necessity arises for a peculiar scientific work which does not
indeed have God for its object, — a thing which cannot be,
— but His ectijpal knowledge; provided there exists a defi
nite circle of phenomena from which, by investigation, this
object can be known. And if, later on, it can be shown that
what is here put as hypothesis is true, then in this way we
have certainly found a Theology whose calling it is to do a
scientific work, and which as such has a place in the organ
ism of science. For this hypothesis itself implies that the
phenomena from which this knowledge must be drawn, and
this knowledge itself, must organically cohere with the ob
ject as well as with the subject of science : with the object,
because these phenomena are given in the cosmos and in
history; and with the subject, since it is only as ectypal
that this knowledge corresponds to the measure of man.
And this being so, the founding of a proper faculty for this
scientific investigation is justified of itself. The object,
indeed, which is sought in these phenomena cannot be
brought under either of the four other heads. The phe
nomena which must be investigated form an entirely pe
culiar group. And the object itself is of such eminent
importance, that not only the needs of practical life, but
the incomplete character of all other science, alike render
the study of Theology necessary.

», o \J *s

One more objection, however, must be met. It might,
indeed, be said that in § 38 of this volume we designate
the cosmos as the only object of science; that except we fall
into Pantheism, God does not belong to the cosmos, but that
as the ground of all being and cause of the cosmos, He must
be sought outside of it; that hence He does not belong to it,
and that therefore the search after God, i.e. Theology, cannot
be classed with science. We answer, that this objection
has no force when directed against our representation of the
matter. To us, indeed, not the unknown Essence of God but

CHAP. V] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE? 219

the ectypal revelation (revelatio ectypa) which has been
made knoivn, is the object of Theology. This revelation does
not lie outside of, but in the cosmos, and never presents itself
to us in any but its cosmical form. Without the least
modification, therefore, of our definition of the object of
science, Theology, interpreted in this way, certainly obtains
its proper place in the organism of science. And Theology
extends no further than this. For though the assumption
of a cosmos implies the confession of a ground of being for
that cosmos, it is not science, and therefore not Theology,
but only the mysticism of our inner life, which involves the
data by which we personally know and experience that we
stand in communion with that extracosmical ground of
being.

§ 55. The Influence of Palingenesis upon our View of
Theology and its Relation to the Other Sciences

In the preceding sections the difference has repeatedly
been shown between the conceptions which, according as
you reckon with or without palingenesis, you must enter
tain of the task of the several faculties and their mutual
relations. In this closing paragraph this difference is more
definitely considered. There are two sorts of people, both
of which claim to be the interpreters of our human race
in its normal manifestation, and who, because thinking that
their own apprehension is the scientific consciousness, cannot
abandon the pretension that the result of their scientific work
alone leads to the knowledge of the object; which knowl
edge is indeed not adequate, but as pure as lies within
our reach. The difference between these two groups can
briefly be designated by the word Palingenesis, in so far as
this implies, first, the abnormal character of that which has
not undergone this palingenesis, and, on the other hand, the
gradual growth into normality again of what exhibits itself
as fruit of this palingenesis. This accounts for the fact,
that he who not only stands outside of palingenesis but
also rejects it as a play of the imagination, must consider
everything as normal and can only view the divergencies

220 §55. THE INFLUENCE OF PALINGENESIS [Div. II

or disturbances as necessary stages in the process of de
velopment. Hence such an one deems himself authorized
to draw his conclusions from what exists — both from what
exists outside of him and from what exists in himself, — and
to make these conclusions compulsory for all. And from
this point of view no other method is conceivable. He, on
the other hand, who himself lives in the palingenesis, or who
at least accepts it as a fact, has eo ipso an entirely different
outlook upon himself and his surroundings. Palingenesis
implies that all existing things are in ruins ; that there is a
means by which these ruins can be restored, yea, that in
part they are already restored. He neither may nor can,
therefore, draw compulsory conclusions from what exists
outside of palingenesis ; there can be no question with him
of an evolution process ; and for him the necessity of all
science does not lie in what presents itself to him, but in
the criticism of existing things by which he distinguishes
the abnormal from the normal.

This applies to all the faculties, but becomes more impor
tant in proportion as the part of the object which a given
faculty is to investigate stands higher. With the faculty
of Natural Philosophy, therefore, this antithesis makes itself
least felt ; a little more with the Medical ; more strongly
with the Philological ; almost overwhelmingly with the Ju
ridical; but most strongly of all with the Theological faculty.

If I omit from my calculations the facts of palingenesis
and sin. then no estrangement from God has taken place ;
then our understanding has not been darkened ; and no
disturbance has convulsed nature to cloud the transparency
of God in the cosmos. And it is equally inconceivable
that a restoring power should be operative in the world,
in our heart and in our thought, or that there should be
a revelation, in facts or in words, which does not coincide
wilh the normal process of development. For in this case
we have nothing but progress, continuous gain and clari
fying of knowledge. And granted that there is a God and
liiat a knowledge of this God seems possible, this knowl-
ed"\- of God stands infinitelv higher in our nineteenth cen-

CHAP. V] UPON OUR VIEW OF THEOLOGY 221

tury than in the days of Abraham and Moses, of David and
Isaiah, of Christ and his Apostles. Hence it is from no evil
intent, at least not among men (of Satan we do not speak),
but simply the necessary consequence of the lack of a per
sonal experience of palingenesis, that, so far from acknowl
edging them, modern theological development cannot rest
until it has dispossessed all religious phenomena of their un
common character, and has included them in the scope of the
normal development of our human consciousness. And it
is but the consequence of principle, which is compulsory
from this point of view, that the authorit}r of the Holy
Scriptures is attacked, and that the conflict against the
Holy Scriptures must be continued until at length all that
they offer us is reduced to the proportions of the ordinary.

And this gives rise to the question whether from this
naturalistic point of view there can still be a theological
science, and whether there is still room for a theological fac
ulty. This question is not answered by a rehearsal of the
gigantic labors of modern Theology in breaking down the
so-called antiquated representations. Breaking down is
not building up. And though it is indisputably the task of
science to combat error, it is plain that this negative effort
does not justify the existence of a faculty. Thus the ques
tion should be put as follows : When once the old building
shall have been taken down entirely, so that without causing
any more concern, antique Theology, properly catalogued,
shall have been carefully put by in the museum of scientific
antiquities, will there then still remain a work of a peculiar
character like Theology which as such will justify the exist
ence of a separate faculty ? And this must be answered in
the negative. It can be said superficially, that from this
view-point also the five questions present themselves to the
thinking mind — concerning his own spiritual and bodily ex
istence, and his relation to his fellow-men, to nature and to his
God ; but — and this is the decisive point — from this point
of view the very existence of God is questionable. One no
doubt says there is a God; but another denies it. And among
those also who acknowledge the existence of God, some hold

222 § 55. THE INFLUENCE OF PALINGENESIS [Div. II

that He can be known, while others dispute it. Suppose it
were a question whether there are plants, should we be able
to speak of a botanical science? So long as the existence
of the object of a science remains uncertain, inquiry may
take place ; one may sound, feel his way and seek, but one
cannot investigate. Science with a proper object, and a
method derived from that object, is still wanting. Hence
in no case can a complex of sciences be allowed to form an
independent faculty, on the ground of its organic relation to
life. As an escape from this dilemma an attempt has been
made to substitute another object for this science, by placing
the knowledge of Religion at its disposal instead of the knowl
edge of Grod. From now on it is to be called the Science of
Religion. The existence of religion can in no case be denied.
In religion we have to do with a notable phenomenon that
has been observed at all times and among many nations.
This phenomenon may be investigated and thus theological
science be revivified. This, however, rests upon a misunder
standing. As a subjective phenomenon religion is one of
the phenomena of man's spiritual existence, and as such it
belongs to the Philological faculty, and more appropriately
to history and philosophy. And as no one would think it
proper to found a separate faculty for aesthetics or ethics,
it is equally unreasonable to open a faculty for the religious
life in man (or at least in many men). We do not deny
that from this point of view also there may be a very ear
nest desire to learn what may be known of God in man
and in nature ; and to the study of religion or of the science
of religion, to annex another study, which seeks after God,
feels after Him that it may find Him, tries to prove His
existence and to establish knowledge concerning Him. But

o o

he who ignores the facts of the fall and palingenesis, must
always reckon with the denial of God by so many thou
sands, for which reason he can never attain unto a positive
knowledge, nor ever produce anything that falls outside of
the scope of Philosophy. From this naturalistic point of
view the five faculties must be reduced to four. The faculty
of Theology, whose supposed object must still be sought, falls

CHAP. V] UPON OUR VIEW OF THEOLOGY 223

away. And everything that relates to religion, in its phe
nomena as well as in the postulates that produce these phe
nomena, as a department of study, goes to the Philological
faculty. The so-called history of religions is classed with
history, more appropriately with the science of countries
and nations. Religion as a psychological phenomenon is
relegated to the psychological sciences. And finally the
assumptions to which religion leads find their place in specu
lative philosophy, which here finds a point of support for its
favorite monistic conclusions.

This whole matter assumes an entirely different phase,
however, when palingenesis is taken as the starting-point.
For then it ceases to be a problem whether there is a God ;
that the knowledge of God can be obtained is certain ; and
in the revelation which corresponds to this palingenesis there
is presented of itself an objectum sui generis, which cannot
be subserved under any of the other faculties ; this im
pels the human mind to a very serious scientific investiga
tion, which is of the utmost importance to practical life.
Then every necessary claim, for the emergence of Theol
ogy as a proper department of science, is fully met ; and
its right to a special faculty is entirely indisputable. He
who knows from personal experience that there is such a pal
ingenesis, and conceives something of the important change
wrought by this fact in our entire sensibility, cannot remain
in the suspense of this vague impression, but feels impelled
to explain it to his consciousness, and to give himself an
intelligent account of all the consequences which flow from
it and which are bound to affect his entire world- and
life- view. And since this fact does not stand by itself in
him, but corresponds to similar facts in the spiritual exist
ence of others, and to analogous facts in the cosmos and in
history, the demand of the human spirit is absolute, that
these facts, in him as well as outside of him, must be in
vestigated and placed in relation and in order. And this
no other science can do ; hence a special science must be
found to do this ; since the object to be investigated bears an
entirely independent character. The further exposition of

224 § 5o. THE INFLUENCE OF PALINGENESIS [Div. II

this will be the task of the following chapters. But at this
point let us briefly consider the relation which, from the
view-point of palingenesis, must exist between the Theologi
cal faculty and the other faculties.

All prosecution of science which starts out from natural
istic premises denies the subjective fact of palingenesis, as
well as the objective fact of a special revelation, which
immediately corresponds to this. Even though the incon
sistency is committed of maintaining from this point of view
a Theological faculty, no influence worth the mention can
ever be exerted by this faculty upon the other faculties.
.Religion, which as a phenomenon is the object to be inves
tigated by this faculty, is and remains an expression of the
life of the emotions, which, however strong its hold may
be upon life, either remains unexplained, or allows itself to
be classed in the common scope. Alongside of the ethical
and ajsthetical life, there is also a religious life ; but the
study of that religious life imposes no claims upon the
studies of the other sciences, nor does it exercise an influ
ence upon their methods.

This, of course, is altogether different, when in palin
genesis we recognize a critical and a restorative fact, which
both subjectively and objectively places all things, along
with their origin and issue, before us in an entirely differ
ent light. In the Holy Scriptures palingenesis is a general
conception, which is applied to the subject of science (vide
Tit. iii. ">), as well as to the object of science (vide Matt,
xix. '2$). It assumes a first genesis, which by a departure
of the process of life from its principle has led to death, and
now it declares that a repetition of the genesis takes place,
but this time as a springing up again of that which went
down, and that in this restoration the method of genesis
repeats itself, viz. the development from a germ. This is
applied to man in all his inward life, but will sometime be
applied as well to man's somatical existence, as to the whole
cosmos outside of him, as far as this also has shared in the
false process. Hence palingenesis is now operative in the
human mind ; and, analogous to this, palingenesis will here-

CIIAI>. V] UPON OUR VIEW OF THEOLOGY 225

after appear in the somatical and cosmical life. This palin
genesis is introduced spiritually by an act of God's Spirit
in the spiritual life of humanity (inspiration in its broadest
sense), and somatically by an act of the power of God in the
natural life of the world (miracles in their widest interpre
tation). From which it follows that all study of science,
where the investigator occupies the view-point of palingen
esis, must reckon with the four phenomena: (1) of personal
regeneration ; and (2) of its corresponding inspiration ;
(3) of the final restoration of all things ; and (4) of its
corresponding manifestation of God's power in miracles
{NiplileotJi) . These four phenomena have no existence to
the scientist who starts out from naturalistic premises. On
the contrary, his principle and starting-point compel him to
cancel these phenomena, or, where this is not possible, to ex
plain them naturalistically. He, on the other hand, who has
personally been taken up into this powerful, all-dominat
ing activity of palingenesis, finds his starting-point in these
very phenomena, and mistrusts every result of investiga
tion which does not entirely correspond to them. If now
this palingenesis applied only to the religious life, one could
say that the faculty of Theology alone is bound to deal with
it. But this is not at all the case. Palingenesis is a uni
versal conception which dominates your whole person, and
all of life about you ; moreover, palingenesis is a power that
exerts an influence not merely in your religious, but equally
in your ethical, sesthetical, and intellectual life. A Jurist, a
Physician, a Philologian, and a Physicist, who have person
ally come under the action of this palingenesis, experience
its influence as well as the Theologian, and not only in
their emotional but in their intellectual life. This, indeed,
has been too much overlooked in earlier periods ; where
fore the consequences of palingenesis have been looked for
in Theology alone, and thus the mischievous demand has
been imposed upon the other sciences that they should
subject themselves to the utterances of Theology in those
points also which did not pertain to its object of investiga
tion. The Reformed alone have established the rule with

226 § 55. THE INFLUENCE OF PALINGENESIS [Div. II

reference to the magistracy, that it should not ask the
Church to interpret God's ordinances regarding the duties
of its life, but that the magistrates should study them out
independently for themselves from nature and from the
word of God. In this way homage was paid to the prin
ciple that every one who shares this palingenesis should
exercise independent judgment in all his own affairs. If
this principle, which is the only true one, were applied to
all the sciences, it would readily be seen that Theology is
by no means called upon to arbitrate in every domain of sci
ence ; while, on the other hand, also, it would be seen that
a twofold study must develop itself of all the sciences,—
one, by those who must deny palingenesis, and the other
by those who must reckon with it.

This, however, does not take away the fact, that the other
sciences must leave Theology the task of investigating palin
genesis. For this is its appointed task. Theology alone is
called to do this. If there were no palingenesis, there would
be no other than a natural knowledge of God, which belongs
in the Philological faculty to the philosophical, and more
especially to the psychological and outological, sciences.
Since, on the contrary, palingenesis has come in as an uni
versal phenomenon, dominating all things, a faculty of its
own had to be created for Theology, and it is the task of
Theology to take the four above-mentioned phenomena as
the object of its independent investigation. It must exam
ine : (1) inspiration, as the introductory fact to psychical
palingenesis; (2) the psychical palingenesis itself; (3) the
manifestation that operates introductory to the cosmical pal
ingenesis ; and (4) the cosmical palingenesis. Later on it
will be shown why this entire study must be drawn from
the Holy Scriptures as the principium of Theology, and how
it owes its unity just to this common principium. For the
present, let it suffice that we simply assume this as a fact, and
conclude from it that the investigation here to be instituted
forms a special, well-defined ground, and that the other facul
ties must leave this investigation to Theology. And as, in
virtue of the mutual relations of the sciences, one adopts

CHAP. V] UPON OUR VIEW OF THEOLOGY 227

its borrowed data (Lehnsatze) from the other whenever it is
necessary, so that the Juridical science, for instance, does not
compose a psychology for itself, and does not teach a physics
of its own in economics, but borrows as much material as it
requires from the philological and physical sciences ; so also
is the relation here. No one of the other faculties can insti
tute an investigation of its own of palingenesis, but must
borrow its data for this from Theology. And as to their
own ground of investigations, they operate from the con
sciousness of palingenesis, as far as this refers to their own
department ; and they cannot rest until with their own
method they have brought the insight and the knowledge of
their own object into harmony with the study of palingenesis.

DIVISION III
THEOLOGY

CHAPTER I

THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY

§ 56. The Name

In the answer to what we are to understand by Theology,
even the name is in our time too superficially explained.
The reason is that men are in some perplexity about the
name. Having broken away from old-time Theology, and
having displaced it by something else, the old name is
merely kept to maintain in a moral and formal sense an
hereditary right to the heritage of Sacrosanct Theology.
This is only arbitrary, unless one can prove, genetically at
least, his relation to old-time Theology. If this cannot be
done, it does not infringe the right to abandon what has
become unfit for use, and to replace it by a new complex of
studies entirely differently understood, but in that case the
old name should be discarded. For then the name becomes
a false label, and its retention would be dishonest. Our
going back to the name of Theology is therefore no anti
quarian predilection, but is demanded by the method that
must guide us in defining the conception of Theology. The
effort more and more put forth in the second half of this
century, either in the psychologic-empiric line of Schleier-
macher, or in the speculative track of Hegel, or in both, to
form a certain idea of the departments taught in the Theo
logical faculty, to translate this idea into a conception, and

228

CHAP. I] § 56. THE NAME 229

to take this conception as the definition of Theology, is a
method which can stand no testing, because in this way the
certainty that the object of this science remains the same
is altogether wanting. In his Oratylus Plato does not
say in vain: "To teach a thing rightly it is necessary tirst
to define its name." Even in itself, therefore, a study of
the name of Theology is demanded ; but this is much more
necessary now since a genealogical proof must be furnished
by those who claim hereditary right, and this hereditary
right to the Theological inheritance must be disputed with
more than one contestant.

For the right understanding of the name Theology the
etymology and the usage of the word claim our attention.
With respect to the etymology three questions arise : In
what sense is -logia to be interpreted ? In what sense #eoV ?
And in this connection is 0eoV to be taken actively or
passively ? The addition -logia occurs, just as the allied
terms, in the sense of speaking about something, as well
as in the sense of thinking about something. Aoyeiov was in
Athens what we call the platform, and 0eo\oyelov was the
place on the stage from which they spoke who represented
the gods as speaking. The conception of speaking, there
fore, and not of thinking, stands here clearly in the fore
ground. In 6arreo\oyia, (f>va-ioXo<yia, and other combinations,
on the other hand, -logia has the sense of tracing, investigat
ing. In itself, therefore, 6eo\oyia could indicate etymologi
c-ally the action of a #€0X0709, i.e. of one who speaks about
God, as well as the thinking about God. The only thing that
serves as a more precise indication here is the age of the word
and the object to which -\o<yia is coupled. The root of \eyetv
(to speak) with Homer almost always means " to gather."
with or without choice. Only later on it obtains the sense
of speaking. And only later still, in its last development, the
utterance of the thought is put in the background, in order to
cause the thought itself to appear in the front. Since now
the word 0eo\oyia occurs already in Plato, the first under
standing of -\oyia has the choice ; a choice which is con
firmed by Plato's own words. In his de Re Pull. Lib. II.,

230 § 56. THE NAME [Div. Ill

p. 379a, he writes: "We, O Adimantos, are at this moment
no poets (TTOiT^rai), but speak as founders of a city (ot/acrral
7ro'Xe&)9), and as such we should understand the forms (TVTTOI)
in which the poets must tell their legend." The question
is then asked, " What should be the forms (types) of Theol
ogy?" upon which the answer follows that the gods must
be proclaimed as they are, whether they are spoken of in
"epics, in lyrics, or in tragedy'' (e'v eirecri, ev ^eXeaiv or ev
rpayp&ia). This statement admits of no doubt. In this
place at least -Xoyia is used in the sense of speaking. And
with reference to its composition with #eo-, it is evident
that the idea of investigating the being of God must have
originated much later than the necessity of speaking about
the gods. Hence our first conclusion is that -Xoyia in this
combination was originally used in the sense of speaking.
The second question, what 6eo- in this combination means,
the gods in general or the only true God, can likewise be
answered by the above citation from Plato. Plato himself
interchanges ' theology ' with a speaking of the gods in
epics, in lyrics, or in tragedy. Concerning the third ques
tion, however, whether in this combination 6eo- is object or
subject, we must grant the possibility of both. In
Oeofjir/via, deoKparia, Oeofcpicria, 0eoya/j,ia, 6eo7rpa£ta,
etc., a god is meant who gives, who is angry, who rules,
judges, marries, acts, speaks, and thus 6eo- is the subject.
On the other hand, in Oeoaefieta, Oeo/Ju/jLTiaia, 0€OK.\vrri<n<;,
OeoXarpeta, etc., it is a god who is feared, imitated, in
voked, and honored, hence $eo- is the object. ©eoAoyta,
therefore, can mean etymologically the speaking of God,
as well as the speaking about God. Or if you take
BeoXoyia in the later sense of knowledge, then it indicates
a knowledge which God Himself has, as well as a knowledge
which we have of God. Finally, in the last-mentioned sense
$£0X0709 seems to be older than 6eo\oyeiv, and it appears
that 0eo\oyeiv as well as 0eo\oyia are derived from it. The
result therefore is that Theology etymologically is no com
bination of #ed? and \oyos, but means originally a speaking
of or about a god or gods ; and that only with the further

CHAP. I] § 56. THE NAME 231

development of the word logos, which at first indicated a
collected mass, then a word, and only later reason or thought,
#60X070?, OeoXoydv, and #€0X0710. also were conceived as a
knowledge of or concerning a god or the gods.

Since the etymology admits so many possibilities, the
more accurate knowledge of the term "Theologia" should be
gleaned from the usage of the word. With Lucian and
Plutarch #£0X070? occurs in the general sense of one who
treats of the gods, and Augustine declares in de Civ. Dei,
XVIII., c. 14 : "During the same period of time arose the
poets, who were also called theologians, because they made
hymns about the gods." With Aristotle OeoXoyetv indi
cates, to be a theologian, or to act as a theologian. '^Trto-njfj-rj
6eo\oyitcij means with Aristotle (Metapli. X. 6) a knowledge
concerning the divine ; while with Plato, " theology " occurs
as a speaking about the gods, and with Aristotle in the
plural number, " Theologies " were investigations into divine
things (Metereol. 2. 1). Thus far in all these combinations
the general conception was implied of engaging oneself with
the matter of the gods or deity, either in consultation with
tradition, or in reflection for the sake of a more accurate
understanding. With the name "Theology," this general
conception has been adopted by Christian writers, modified
according to the requirements of their point of view, and
carried out upon a large scale. He who reads the exhaustive
explanation of Suicer, Thes. grace., under the words #£0X0705,
#€0X0701, and 0eo\oyelv perceives at once how greatly the use
of these words was increased and how much more deeply the
thinking consciousness entered into the sense of these words,
than with the classical writers. That the apostle John was
early called the Theologian (6 #50X070?), even in the title of
the Apocalypse, cannot properly be explained from his refer
ence to the Logos in the prologue to his Gospel and in his
first Epistle ; but indicates that John was esteemed to be more
versed in the divine mysteries than any other apostle. This
readily accounts for the fact that he is indicated as such in
the title of the Apocalypse and not in the title of his Gospel.
In a like sense all the writers of the Old and New Testaments,

92-?

§ 50. THE NAME

[Div. Ill

but more especially the prophets and apostles, are called theolo
gians. Thus Athanasius says, Oratio de incarnation? lrerbi, I.,
p. G2, ravra 6e KOI Trapa ra)v aurov rou ^(orfjpos 6eo\6yo)v av-
8pS)V TTLCTTevcrdat rt? StWrat, evrvy^dvwv rot? etceivcov ypd/j.[j.acriv :
i.e. one thing and another concerning the Saviour you can
also confirm by an appeal to the theologians if you turn to
their writings. But shortly after this follows the signifi
cance of theological investigations of ecclesiastical questions.
Thus Gregory of Nazianzus was called "the Theologian," not
to place him on a level with John, as though to him also divine
mysteries had been revealed, but because in the treatment of
dogma he always ascended to God, and thus, as Gregory the
Presbyter writes, reached the height of dogma (tn^o? Soy^d-
rcai/). (See Suicer, I., p. 1360.)

If thus the word " theologos " itself admitted of a twofold
meaning, that of "a speaker in the name of God," and that
of "a thinker who in his thinking ascends to God," the
word " theologein " was still more pliable. This also signi
fied at first to speak in the name of God; for instance, Tre/at
TOVTCOV rwv 8oy fjidrcov Beo^oyel 'Hcra/a?, i.e. concerning these
tilings Isaiah speaks as commanded by God. Secondly, to
explain any point theologically; for instance, Aojov eljrev i'va
TIJV reXetav vjrap^iv crot rov 'Irjcrov $60X0777(777, i.e. he names
Christ the Logos, in order to explain the absolute relation
of Jesus to the very essence of God, — a use of this word
which already with Justin Martyr obtained more general
currency to indicate an investigation which was instituted
ivitk a certain dignity of form. Thus, for instance, in his
Dial. c. Tr. (ed. von Otto, Jen;e, 187(5, I. 400 B), "Do
you inquire in the spirit of theological discussion why
one ' a ' was added to the name of Abraham, and ask with
an air of importance why one 'r' was added to the name
(if Sarah?" (Ata rl pev ev a\<$>a TT/DCOTW Trpoa-ere'drj rco 'A/S/aaa/i
i, $eoXoryet?, Kol BLO, rl ev pa) rw ^.dppas OVO/JLUTI, o/zot'co?
where from the coupling of Ko/^7ro\oyelv and
0€o\oyelv it clearly appears, that in both cases a dignity, a
gravity, and a rhetoric are implied, which did not corre
spond to the unimportance of the question. But besides

CHAP. I] § 56. THE NAME 233

these two meanings, which run parallel with those of " theo-
logos," the great Fathers of the Christological conflict also
used, in the footsteps of Justin, the word " theologein " in
the sense of proclaiming one to be God, of announcing one as
God. Justin Martyr wrote in his Dial. c. Tryph. (ed. von
Otto, Jenee, 1876, I., p. 104 C), with the Messianic prophecy
in Psalm xlv. 6 sq, in mind, " If, therefore, you say that
the Holy Spirit calls any other God (6eo\oydv) and Lord
(^Kvpio\oyelv^ except the Father of all the Universe and
his Christ," — which manner of speech, both by the sense
and by the addition of Kvpio\o<yeiv, leaves no doubt but
that OeoXoyelv is taken in the sense of calling one God.
Thus also we read in Athanasius (Tom. I., p. 1030) : 'Ei>
aTraaiv ol? So^d^rai 6 Trarrip ^0X070^6^09, ev ai/rot? So£a£erai
Kal 6 i/to? /cal TO iTvev^ia TO ayiov, i.e. " In all points in which
the Father is glorified by being spoken of as God, the same
also takes place with the Son and with the Holy Ghost."
For the sake of still greater clearness, the word Oeov is even
added, 6eo\oyeiv riva Oeov, as for instance, in Philostorgius,
If 1st. Eccl. XIV., p. 103, TO /3(/3XtW 0€0\oyei Oeov rov . . .
Srjfjuovpybv cnrdvTwv, i.e. This book, the Gospel of John, calls
the author of all things G-od. Thus also Csesarius, Quest.
22, p. 44, says of the Christ, "also when he is incarnate,
nevertheless VTTO rwv irpo^rMv deoKoyeiTai, i.e. is he called
God by the prophets ; the Latin praedicare Deum."1 And
finally there was developed from this the more general sig
nificance of deifying something or making it to be God. For
instance, ov jrdvra Kara (fivcrtv yiverai, iva pr} 6eo\oy7]0rj 77
</>vcrt5 (Chrysostom, V., p. 891), i.e. "It is by Divine appoint
ment that all things do not happen in accordance with nature,
lest nature be taken for God."

In this way only can we understand the history of the
word "theology" in Patristic literature. If a theologian
is one who speaks in the name of God, and tlieologein
the act itself of speaking in the name of God, then we
understand how "Theology" could mean the Old and the Neio
Testament: Tr)? TraXcu'a? 6eo\o<yias Kal TT}<? yea? 8eo\oyias rrjv
op£)v, dav/jLaaerai rrjv aXwdetav, i.e. "Seeing the

234

§ 56. THE NAME

[Div. Ill

harmony of the Old and New Testament, one marvels at the
truth" (Theodor. Therap. See Suicer, I., p. 1350). For
the word of God comes to us in these two Testaments. If
in the second place the word theologein means to explain
a point so fully as to trace it back to God, then it is clear
how " Theology " could mean : reduction to the mystery
of the essence of God. Tims says Theodoret (Qitcent. in
Crenes. I., p. 3), TI Sijirore /AT) Trporera^e rfjs TCOV o\wv BJJ-
lALovpyias OeoXoyiav ; i.e. " Why did not Moses preface the
creation-narrative with an introduction on the mystery of
the essence of God ? " If, in the third place, " theologein "
was used in the sense of "to declare some one God," then
it follows also that " Theology " could signify : the divine
appellation. Thus says Pachymeres in his note on Diony-
sius Areopagita (Suicer, I., p. 300), ra KOLVWS TTJ 0eia c^vaei
dpfio^dvTa ovdfjLara ^vw^evr/v eTriypdfai OeoXoyiav, i.e. tlie
names which in general belong to the divine nature, he
calls theologia unita. And since in the bitter conflict against
the Arians everything hinged on the point of proclaiming
Christ as God, " Theology " in this sense became almost
synonymous with the Deity of Christ. Thus Gregory of
Nyssa speaks of a K^pva-aeiv TO /j,va-Tr/piov TT}? #€0X07/09, with
his eye on John i. 1, which thus means to say, "to announce
the mystery of the Deity of Christ." This Theologia was
then placed over against oiKovofila as the appellation for
his human nature. Thus in Theodoret, Comm. in lL>b. iv.
14, p. 414: we ought to know riva /J.ev TT)? 0eo\oyias, riva Be
T>}? ot/co^o/u-t'a? owfiara, i.e. what names belong to his divine,
and what to his human, nature. In connection with this,
" Theology " was also used in the sense of the " mystery of
the Trinity." The knowledge of God, which as such was
the characteristic of Christianity, was contained just in this
trinitarian mystery. Thus Athanasius, de Definitionibus,
Tom. IT., p. 44 : 'ETrt r?}9 6eo\oyia<; /j,iav fyvaiv 6/*io\oyov/j.ei>
T>}? ajia<t T/amSo?, rpeZ? 5' L/Trocrrttcret?, i.e. " Of the mystery of
the Divine Ueing we confess that in the Holy Trinity there
is only one nature, but a threefold hypostasis." Photius,
Epiist. XXXI V., p. 95, axTTrep eVt T/";9 Oeo\oyia<f TO rpeZ? 6/tioXo-

CHAP. I] § 56. THE NAME 235

yelv ovaias iroXvOeov, i.e. even as it is Polytheistic to confess
three substances in the mystery of the Trinity. Theophy-
lact, Comm. in Math., c. xxviii., p. 185, eiTrwv on Set ficnrTi-
%eiv els TO ovopa rr)? r/3iaSo? rrjv 0eo~\.oyiav r}\uv Trape8a>Kev, i.e.
by the command to baptize in the name of the Trinity,
Christ has revealed to us the mystery of the Divine Being.
And in like sense Gregory Nazianzen uses the word when
in Oration I., p. 16, he writes, Tpia e'cm irepl deoko^ia^ appco-
o-TijfjLaTa, i.e. there are three weaknesses with reference to
the interpretation of the Divine mystery.

Thus the development of the term Theology is not doubt
ful. First the word was adopted from the pagan usage
to indicate a speaking of the things that pertain to the
gods or God, whether materially, as declarations of divine
affairs, or simply formally, as a speaking with dignity and
with a certain unction. In the conflict about the divine
nature of Christ the still living Grecian language-conscious
ness began to use the term 0eo\oyetv actively in the sense
of calling one God, and thereby Oeo\o<yia obtained gradually
the significance of the confession of the Deity of Christ.
Since the Christological conflict speedily assumed a Trini
tarian character, and the confession of the Trinity hinged
upon the acknowledgment of the Deity of Christ, Theology
began gradually to be interpreted in the sense of the mystery
of the Divine Essence as Trinitarian. And finally, by Theol
ogy there began to be understood that which is revealed to
us concerning this mystery, since to this extent only we can
deal with this mystery. At the point of history when the
supremacy of the Church was transferred from the East to
the West, and the living word 0eo\oyia was lost in the dead
barbarism Theologia, this Latin term was understood to mean
the revealed knowledge of the mystery of the Threefold
Being of God, and by no means a prosecution of Theological
departments of study.

§ 57. Theological Modality of the Conception of Theology

Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theol. I. 9, L, art. 7) already
protested against the abuse of making the nature of Theology

§57. THEOLOGICAL MODALITY [Div. Ill

to consist, not in the knowledge of God, but in the knowl
edge of an entirely different object of investigation; and
thus against those who assigned, not God, but "another
subject for this science, for example, either things and
signs, or the works of redemption, or else the whole Christ,
that is, both head and members"; for, says he, "all these
are treated in this science, but according to their order with
respect to God" ("aliter assignaverunt huius scientiae sub
ject urn, sc. vel res, et signa, vel opera reparationis, vel totum
Christum, id est, caput et membra," . . . "de omnibus istis
tractatur in ista scientia, sed secundum ordinem ad Deum").1
So far as this protest directs itself against the soteriological
or Christological interpretation of the science of Theology,
it is equally pertinent to almost all definitions which in the
course of this century have been given of the conception of
Theology. What he says, on the other hand, of Theology
as a study of the Signa et Res, refers in part to Peter
Lombard's Sententiae, but principally to Augustine, who,
in his Libri IV. de doctrina Christiana, had followed the
division into Signa et Re*, — a division which Thomas does
not reject, but which in his view does not define the "sub
ject of Theology," or what we would call the object of
Theology.

The important interest defended by Thomas in this pro
test, a protest to which all earlier Reformed theologians have
lent their influence, lies in the requirement that the concep-

1 S"ientiae snbjectnm here stands for what we would call Scientiae obj/-c-
tnm. This confusion between the grammatical and the logical antithesis of
subject and object is to be laid to Aristotle's credit, who took rb vtroKtlnevov,
i.e. the subject, also for rb wepl ov 6 \6yos yiverai. Compare Prantl, Ge-
srhichtc der Loyik im AbcndJand, Leipzig, 18(!7, III. 208: "An unzahligen
Stellen treffen wir fortan (since Duns Sc-otus, 11308, who first placed them
over against each other as termini), bis in das 18th Jahrhundert (d. h. bis
Alex. Baumgarten) diesen gebrsuich der Worte 'subjective' und 'objective,'
welcher zu dem jetzigen sich genau umgekehrt verhiilt : niimlich damalshiess
subject ivitm dasjenige, was sich auf das Subject der Urtheille, also auf die
concreten Gegenstande des Penkens, bezieht; hingegen obji-ctivc, jenes, was
im blossen objicere, i.e. im Vorstelligmachen, liegt und hiemit auf Hechnung
des Vorstellenden fiillt.''

See also Kudolph Encken. Dif Grundbfgriffe der Cfcyi'incart, Leipzig,
18!»:!: Subjectiv-Objectiv, pp. 25 ff. ; and Trenclelenburg, Ek-mcnta Loyi<'rs
Ariftnti-liciaei ed. VIII., pp. 54, 55.

CHAT. I] OF THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 237

tion of Theology must not only be construed abstractly logi
cally, but also theologically. Augustine already tried to do
this, though he rarely used the word Theology to indicate
the conception intended by us. What in the Western
Church also was called Theology, he called Doctrina de Deo
or Christian Doctrine ; and however strange it may seem,
by the word Theology Augustine understands the pagan
rather than the Christian conceptions of the Divine. This
appears prominently in his De Civitate Dei, in which
he (Lib. VI., c. 5 sq., ed. Bened. Bass. Ven., 1797,
pp. 179-255) discusses the system of Varro, as though
there were three kinds of Theology: mythology (theologia
fabulosa'), which lived in tradition and in the theatre ;
natural theology (theologia naturalis), which is found
in the writings of the philosophers; and State religion
(theologia civilis), which was maintained by official public
worship. And it is noteworthy that while continually
quoting this threefold description of Theology, Augustine
nowhere places theologia Christiana, or vera, over against
it, but always speaks of Doctrina Christiana. Once only,
in caput 8 (p. 203), does he take theologia in its general
sense, but still not to express doctrina Christiana, but that
after which the doctrina Christiana seeks. In refuting the
physiological representations of the philosophers he says:
"But all these things, they say, have certain physical,
i.e. natural, interpretations, showing their natural mean
ing; as though in this disputation we were seeking physics
arid not theology, which is the account, not of nature, but
of God." From this we see, that by "Theology " Augustine
did not understand the study of our science, nor that sci
ence itself; by him this was called doctrina; but much more
the knowledge of God, as the aim of theological study.

Thus with Augustine already this deeper conception of
Theology bore a decidedly theological character. This is
seen in his Libri IV. de doctrina Christiana, where he goes
back to God, as Himself the Wisdom (Sapientia), and calls
Christ, as the Word of God (Verbum Dei), the first way to
God (prima ad Deum via), and then by the side of the

238 § 57. THEOLOGICAL MODALITY [Div. Ill

intellectual method of attaining the knowledge of God, he
also emphasizes the way of contemplation (via contempla-
tionis) and the seeing of God. Thomas Aquinas also
occupies this point of view in the main, and in his footsteps
also Calvin. Thomas' chief work bears, indeed, the title of
Snmma tlieologica, but in his introduction he systematically
treats of the sacra doctrina, which really is not Theology
itself, but circa tlieologiam versatur. Only rarely does the
word tlieolofjia occur with him, as, for instance, when in P.
i. i. Qu. art. 7, ed. Xeap., 1702, I., p. 121', he says: "But in
this science discourse is chiefly made about God, for it is
called Theology, as being discourse about God" ("Sed in hac
scientia lit sermo principaliter de Deo; dicitur enim theo-
logia, quasi sermo de Deo"). Here, however, he gives us
least of all a definition, but derives an argument from the
etymology of the word to maintain " God " (6 $eo?) as the
object of the 'sacred doctrine.' The real conception which
he attaches to Theology is therefore much more clearly seen
from what he says concerning faith, hope and love as the
three virtutes theologicae (see I., secundae, qu. 02, art. i.
sq.~). Let it be noted also that he did not write as the
title of his work: Sumina theologtae, but Summa theologiea.
De Moor, in his Comm. in Jlarck., Tom. I., p. 9, quotes
these words of Thomas: "Theology is taught by God,
teaches of God, and leads to God " (" Theologia a Deo
docetur, Deum docet et ad Deum ducit ") ; since, however,
he does not name the place where he found this citation, it
is not to be verified. In like manner Calvin does not p'ive

to his dogmatics the title of Epitome Theologiae, but of
Institutio religionis Christianae, and translates the word
theologia, which he almost everywhere avoids, by notitla Dei
(cf. Lib. I., c. i., § i. s^.). The indexes are not trustworthy
with reference to this. The index to Thomas as well as
to Calvin's Institutes gives a meaning to the word Theology
in which the word Theology itself was used neither by Thomas
nor by Calvin.

This distinction, now, which maintained itself for a
loner time between theological science as sacred learning

CHAP. I] OF THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 239

or instruction (sacra doctrina, institutio), etc., and The
ology itself as knowledge of Grod (notitia Dei), was not
trivial ; but tended to interpret the conception of Theology
theologically, as this theological conception is more precisely
analyzed into the theologia archetypa and ectypa. And this
must be maintained. The field of knowledge disclosed
to us in Theology cannot logically be coordinated with
the other fields that are investigated by our understanding.
As soon as this is done, Theology is already robbed of its
peculiar character, and cannot be interpreted except as a
part of metaphysics, or as a science whose object of investi
gation is the empirical phenomenon of religion, or, more
precisely, the Christian religion. If, on the other hand,
Theology is a knowledge which, instead of dealing with
created things, illumines our minds with respect to the
Creator, and the "origin and end of all things," it follows
that this knowledge must be of a different nature, and must
come to us in another way. The normae that are valid for
our knowledge elsewhere have no use here; the way of
knowledge must here be another one, and the character itself
of this knowledge must differ from all other science. As
within the boundaries of the finite you must follow a differ
ent way to knowledge for the spiritual than for the natural
sciences, the way to the knowledge of that which transcends
the finite and lies beyond its boundary cannot coincide with
the Erkenntnisstheorie of the finite. Hence we have no war
rant for making a logical division and saying: Science inves
tigates nature, man, and God, and the science which does the
latter is Theology, simply because the coordination of nature,
God and man is false. He who views these three as co
ordinates, starts out logically from the denial of God as God.
This was entirely correctly perceived by the Greek Fathers,
and in the steps of Augustine by the Western Fathers, in
consequence of which, even though without sufficient clear
ness of insight, they refused to place Theology in line with
the other -logies or -nomies, and demanded a theological
interpretation of the conception of Theology. The force of
this theological interpretation was still felt in the second

240 § 57. THEOLOGICAL MODALITY [l)i\. Ill

half of the eighteenth century, whenever the dogmatic! de
scribed Dogmatics not as a subdivision of Theology or as
one of the departments of theological study, but as the
theologia propria, to which exegesis, church history, church
polity, etc., were added as auxiliary studies. They had
already lost the conception of Theology to such an extent
that, although not theoretically, they practically applied the
name of Theology to the human study which was devoted to
this revealed knowledge of God; but from their limitation of
this name to Dogmatics it was evident that they took this to
be the study that leads to the right understanding of the real
knowledge of God. They were not concerned about all kinds
of learning, but about God Himself, and that alone which
could bring us a closer knowledge of that God could claim in
the more precise sense the name of Theology. It is indeed
true, as is shown by the history of Encyclopedia, that the En
cyclopedists gradually began to understand by Theology the
complex of the several departments of theological study;
but no one will contend that in doing this they contributed
to an organic interpretation of the conception of Theology.
Of Schleiermacher only it can reall}' be said that, seeing the
unskilfulness of the earlier Encyclopedists, he seriously
tried to bring Theology, not as a knowledge of God, but
taken as a theological science, to a unity of interpretation.
It is too bad that he went to work at this so unhistorically ;
that he paid almost no attention to the development of the
conception of Theology in former ages: and still more is
it a pity that, mistaken in the idea of the object, he could
not attain to an organic interpretation, and advanced no
further than to explain it as an aggregate, united by the
tendency of these several studies to aid in preparation
for the sacred office. By this he cut off the theological
understanding from the conception of Theology; and they
who have come after him have no doubt superseded his
aggregate by an organic conception, and his exceedingly
limited object by a broader object, but have not removed
the breach between what Theology was originally and what
lias since been understood by it. The rule continued to be

CHAP. I] OF THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 241

derived exclusively from Logica by which to define the con
ception of Theology, and thus it was impossible to regain
the theological conception of this science. This does by no
means imply that repristination of the former conception
would suffice. The very contrary will appear from our
further exposition. All we intend to say, is that here also
no progress is possible, unless we continue our work along
the line of those threads that were spun for us in the past.

And in looking back upon this past we find that in the
conception of Theology a characteristic theological modality
exhibits itself almost constantly; by which we mean that
the peculiar character of Theology has exerted an influence
also upon the forming of this conception. How far this
influence extended can only be shown in the following sec
tions ; but in order to place the significance of those sections
in the desired light, it was specially necessary to refer to
this point.

§ 58. The Idea of Theology

He who is called to the fifth story of a large building,
and finds an elevator, which without any effort on his part
brings him in a moment where he wants to be, will not
climb the hundred or more steps on foot. Applied to our
knowledge, this implies that common, slow investigation,
with its inductions and deductions, is merely the stairs with
its hundred steps by which we climb the heights of knowl
edge, while the attainment of knowledge is ever the aim in
view. From which it follows that if that same height of
knowledge can be reached by a shorter or less laborious
way, the former stairs become worthless. This is true hori
zontally as well as vertically. Since now there are railways
to all the corners of Europe, no one travels any longer by
stage-coach. Though there may be a peculiar pleasure
attached to that slow rate of progress, or rather to creeping
along the way of knowledge, it is, nevertheless, somewhat
morbid to abandon for the sake of this lower pleasure the
much higher delight of the knowledge of the truth. Lessing's
proverb has led us astray on this point, and therefore the brief

242 § 58. THE IDEA OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

indication of the only true point of view was necessary. What
surprises still await us of locomotion by electricity or through
the air are not easily foretold ; but this is certain, that every
more rapid communication antiquates the less rapid. This
compels us in Theology, also, to distinguish between the
conception and the idea of Theology. The conception is
bound to the way of knowledge which we travel. The
idea, on the other hand, views the end, independently of the
question of the way by which this end shall be reached.
This was the distinction in view in the formerly generally
current division of Theology into a theologia unionis, vis-
ionis and stadii. This supplied three conceptions, which
found their unity in the idea of Theology. The theologia
unionis was that highest knowledge of God, which Christ
possessed in His human nature, by virtue of the union of this
nature with the Divine nature. The theologia visionis, also
called patriae, was the appellation of the knowledge of God
which once the elect will obtain in the state of heavenly
blessedness. And the theologia stadii, also called studii, or
viafonim, expressed that knowledge of God which is acquired
here upon earth by those who are known of the Lord.
That which was common to them all, and which united
these three conceptions, was the general idea of the knowl-
ed;/e of God. The aim of Theology, therefore, did not lie
in the theological investigation, neither in all sorts of
studies and learning, but exclusively in knowing Crod. All
study and learning served only as scaffolds for erecting the
palace of our knowledge ; but as soon as the building was
finished that scaffolding lost all its meaning, even became a
hindrance, and had to be cleared away. And this was more
clearly perceived in olden times, than by most theologians
after Schleiermacher. The idea of Theology can be none
other than the knowledge of Cro<L and all activity impelled
by Theology must in the last instance be bent upon the
knowledge of God. This is not said in a metaphorical, but
in a very exact sense. And this must be maintained as
the idea of Theology, when you come to consider also
the science of Theology, as it is studied and taught by the

CHAP. I] § 58. THE IDEA OF THEOLOGY 243

Theological faculty. By a different notion of the idea, and by
lowering your ideal, you degrade theological science itself.
According to its idea, Theology does not at first demon
strate that there is a God ; but it springs out of the over
whelming impression which, as the only absolutely existing
One, God Himself makes upon the human consciousness, and
finds its motive in the admiration which of itself powerfully
quickens the thirst to know God. Though Theology may
be permitted to seek after proofs for the existence of God,
by which it may open the eyes of those half-blind, it can
not itself start out from doubt, nor can it spend itself in the
investigation of religious phenomena, or in the speculative
development of the idea of the absolute. It may do all this
when it is convenient and as a dialectic auxiliary, but all
this is only secondary ; at most, a temporary bridge, by
which itself to reach the other side or bring others there,
but its purpose, wading the mountain stream, remains to
come to the mountain itself, and in the sweat of its brow to
climb the mountain path, until at length the highest peak is
reached, the top itself, where the panorama, the knowledge
of God, unveils itself. Only when thus interpreted does
Theology regain its necessary character, and otherwise it
lapses into an accidental dilettantism. Thus only it regains
its value, and, apart from every conception of utility or
eudemonistic purpose, it recovers an absolute significance
in itself. Thus in its very idea it advances beyond the
boundary of our present existence, and extends itself into
the eternal and the infinite.

The older Theologians derived this more accurate insight

o o

into the nature of Theology and this necessary distinction be
tween the idea and the several conceptions of the one Theology
from the Holy Scriptures. In the Scriptures " the knowledge
of God " is clearly stated as the forma of " eternal life,'' and
of that knowledge of God several degrees are indicated.
The distinction is evident at once between the knowledge
of God disclosed to man before he sinned, and that modified
knowledge of God given to the sinner. There was a knowl
edge of God for Him who said : " Neither doth any know

244 §58. THE IDEA OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son
willeth to reveal him"; and a knowledge of God for those
who could not attain this save by that Son. And finally in
the Scriptures a very significant distinction is made between
the knowledge of God of those who have been "enlightened"
and of those who still "walk in darkness"; between the
knowledge of God, already obtained here by those who have
been enlightened, and that which shall sometime be their por
tion in the realm of glory. Hence a rich difference of form
was found in the Scriptures, but still the same idea was com
mon to all these forms, which idea was and is : to know Grod,
and to know Him as men. For in the Scriptures a knowledge
of God in the world of angels is also spoken of, which is not
entirely lost even in fallen angels, so that " the devils also
believe that there is one God " ; but since this knowledge
assumes another subject, we need not here take it into ac
count. This treatise deals exclusively with human Theol
ogy (Theologia humana), and for the sake of clearness we
leave the other distinctions alone, in order now to study
the distinction between our knowledge of God here and in
heaven (Theologia stadii and patriae).

The classical proof-text for this is 1 Cor. xiii. 8-13, where
the holy apostle definitely declares, that the gnosis which we
now have " shall be done away," since now it is only a know
ing "in part"; that in this matter of our knowledge of
God there is a "perfect" contrasted to that which is now "in
part" ; that when that which is "perfect" is come, a seeing
of "fpce to face" shall come into being ; and that this seeing
shall be a "knowing even as also I have been known."
Elsewhere also, in Matt. v. 8, in 1 John iii. 2, in Psalm xvii.
1 5, etc., a knowledge of God is mentioned, which shall con
sist in a neeiny of God; but for brevity's sake we confine
ourselves to the utterance in 1 Cor. xiii. Two things are
here included. First, a sharp dividing-line is drawn between
the knowledge of God which is acquired on earth, and that
other knowledge of God which is in prospect on the other
side of the grave. But secondly, the relation is indicated
which is sustained between these two forms of knowledge.

CHAP. I] § 58. THE IDEA OF THEOLOGY

Knowledge does not disappear in order to make room for
sight. It is not a knowing here and a seeing of God
there. No, it is a knowing both here and there ; but with
this difference, that here it is " in part " and there it shall
be "perfect." The seeing, on the other hand, is, here as
well as there, the means by which to obtain that knowl
edge ; here a seeing " through a glass darkly," there a
seeing "face to face." The holy apostle treats even more
exhaustively the relation between Theology here and in
heaven by indicating the analogy of the child that becomes
a man. The child and the man have both a certain knowl
edge, but the knowledge of the child dissolves in that of
the man. By becoming a man he himself brings the put
ting away of that which belonged to the child. Thus the
unity between the two forms of our knowledge of God is
most firmly maintained, and both conceptions of knowledge
emphasized as finding their higher unity in the idea of The
ology, which is and always will be : the knowledge of G-od.
That Paul speaks very expressly here of the knowledge of
Grod, and not of " the knowledge of divine things " in gen
eral, appears clearly from the Ka6a><s eTrejvcoadrjv in vs. 12.
"Knowing even as also I am known" cannot mean any
thing save knowing Him by whom I am known.

The objection also that this future seeing of God is merely
mystical or contemplative, and that therefore it has nothing
to do with our logical consciousness, but falls outside of
Theology, is set aside by 1 Cor. xiii. The logical is not a
temporal form of our human consciousness, fundamentally
fictitious, and therefore bound to pass away. But God Him
self is logical, for in Him also knowledge is assumed, and
between our knowledge here and that which shall be ours
in eternity, there is no essential, but only a proportional,
difference : now in part, then perfect. Similarly the differ
ence between the two modes of knowledge is merely that of
the immediate and mediate. Then our knowledge will turn
immediately on God Himself, while now we only observe the
image of God in a glass, in which it is reflected. Thus the
continuity of our knowledge of God is not broken by the pass-

246 § 58. THE IDEA OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

ing away of present things. When the knowledge "in part''
shall have passed away, the identity of our consciousness
shall continue. That same ego, which now can only faintly
discern the image of God in a glass, shall presently be con
scious of the fact that it knows that selfsame God whose
image it first saw "darkly," and will recognize in the Divine
face those very features which formerly it observed in the
glass imperfectly and indirectly. From this, at least, we see
that the so-called scientific investigation shall sometime fall
away; that it bears no absolute character; and that it derives
its temporal necessity merely from the condition brought
about by sin, and its possibility logically from " common
grace" and theologically from the "particular grace" of di
vine illumination. And if this is so, it follows of itself that
scientific investigation can never be Theology, and is only
an accidental activity amid present conditions and within
given boundaries, impelled by the thirst after Theology, or
rather by the thirst after the knowledge of God. Hence the
higher idea of the knowledge of G-od determines Theological
science and not Theological science the idea of Theology.
There can, and there will hereafter, be a rich Theology
without the aid of a Theological science ; while on the other
hand when Theological science withdraws itself from the
knowledge of God, it loses all sufficient reason, and can lead
no other than a nominal existence.

The naming of the animals by the original man in paradise
presents a partial analogy. In the domain of zoology, also,
the real end in view is not scientific study, but knowledge of
the animal. In our present condition this knowledge cannot
be acquired except by empirical investigation and the draw
ing of conclusions from the data obtained. But if we knew
and understood the animal at once, this empirical investiga
tion and this drawing of conclusions would be purposeless,
and hence dispensable. And something like this is told us
in the story of paradise. There was here really a knowledge
of the animal by the "seeing of face to face." To Adam
the animals were no enigma as to us, but were known and
understood by him ; and therefore he could give them a

CHAP. I] § 58. THE IDEA OF THEOLOGY 247

name according to their nature. Had this capacity remained
intact in us, zoology of course would have assumed an en
tirely different form ; and not in a lesser but in a much
higher sense it would still have been zoology. For the
knowledge of animals in paradisaical man was not analogous
to the vague perception which we now have immediately of
the world of sounds or of moral phenomena, but it was logi
cal ; as is evident from the fact that it led to the giving of
the name. And in this sense it presents an analogy for
Theology in its two different phases. Just as now in zool
ogy scientific study is indispensable if we would obtain
a logical knowledge of the animal, in our present dispen
sation Theological study is equally indispensable to obtain
the logical knowledge of God. But as in paradise knowl
edge of animals was at the disposal of man without this
study, in the dispensation of glory man will similarly attain
a much more complete and yet logical knowledge of God,
without theological study. This is equally applicable to
theologia paradisi and tlieologia unionis ; but this we pass
by because for the sake of clearness we are considering only
the antithesis between our knowledge of God " in a glass "
here and " face to face " in glory.

If it is now plain that the theological idea lies in the
impulse of our human consciousness to know G-od, entirely
independently of the way in which this knowledge is to be
acquired, our object has been gained. The idea of Theology
as such is imperishable, but, according to the demands of our
condition, it leads us by different ways to our ideal. The
way which we must travel is that of theological study, and
the science which is born from this study can with entire
propriety be called Theology, provided this is not done in an
exclusive sense, and this science admits no other motive than
to know or learn to know G-od. Every conception of Theol
ogy which is not subordinated to the idea of Theology must
fail.

248 § 59. THE DEPENDENT CIIARACTEK [Div. Ill

§ 59. The Dependent Character of Theology

If the idea of Theology lies in the knowledge of 6JW, an
entirely peculiar character Hows from this for all Theology,
which distinguishes it from all other knowledge or investi
gations of science. For in all other investigations the in
vestigating subject places himself above the object to be
investigated, is the active agent in the investigation, and
directs his course in obedience to his own free judgment.
And this is both possible and proper with created things,
because among all these man ranks first. But when the
thirst for knowledge directs itself to Him to whom man
and all creation owe their origin, existence, and conscious
ness, the circumstances are materially changed. Then man
stands no longer above, but beneath the object of his investi
gation, and over against this object he finds himself in a posi
tion of entire dependence. Our earlier Theologians explained
this by distinguishing between archetypal Theology (Theo-
logia archetypa) and ectypal Theology (Theologia ectypa)
— a distinction which as it was finally defended could not
be maintained, but which contains an element of truth that
should not be abandoned. For the real thought fundamental
to this distinction between archetypal and ectypal Theology
is that all personal life remains a closed mystery to us as
long as he whose life this is does not himself disclose it to
us. And this thought must be maintained. We purposely
limit ourselves to personal life in order to exclude the
zoological question, even though we readily grant that in
animals also a similar mystery presents itself; but this
mystery need not detain us now, because the knowledge of
man presents already the entirely sufficient analogy for the
knoirledye of Grod. With man also the rule applies to each
individual that you cannot know him in his personal exist
ence, except he himself disclose the mystery of his inner
being.

And yet as far as man is concerned, appearance might
readily deceive us. We quickly form an idea about the per
sons we meet in daily life, and some of us can form a fairly

CHAP. I] OF THEOLOGY 249

accurate idea of a man at tlie very moment of meeting.
Let us observe however : first, that being human ourselves
we have a means in our own existence by which measurably
at least to understand a fellow-creature. Were we not our
selves man, we would not understand what man is ; as it reads
in 1 Cor. ii. 11: "For who among men knoweth the things of
a man, save the spirit of the man, which is in him?" In the
second place, this knowledge which we owe to our mutual
relationship, is strengthened by the fact, that as a rule we
associate with fellow-citizens, congenial spirits, and those to
whom we are united by a certain community of lot. Hence
not only our common humanity, but the fact also that the
modality of existence is largely common to us all, makes it
easy from ourselves to form conclusions concerning others.
How important this factor is, wre perceive at once when we
cross the boundaries of our native land, and especially when
we come among other races and into entirely different coun
tries. A Russ or Finn understands very little of the real
inner nature of the Red man, and wrhat does a Frenchman
understand of the inner nature of a Lapp or Finn ? In the
third place, let it be noted that however much there may
be something personal in every man, characters divide them
selves into certain classes, which are recognized by certain
combinations of phenomena, so that he who knows one or more
of these kinds readily understands a great deal of a person, as
soon as he perceives to what class he belongs. Fourthly, man
is no spirit but a spiritual being, and exists simultaneously
psychically and somatically, so that a great deal of his inner
life manifests itself without the person being conscious of it ;
often indeed against his will and purpose. The look of the
eye, feature and color of face, carriage and manners, compos
ure or restlessness in the whole appearance, etc., betray much
of what goes on in man. To which may be added, in the
fifth place, that in conversation or in writing a man may say
to us or to others, something of himself from which very
important data may be gathered directly or by inference
concerning the mystery of his person. No doubt there are
" closed characters," and also " characters that falsify them-

250 § 5(J. THE DEPENDENT CHARACTER [Div. Ill

selves," which you can never fathom, but as a rule you can
obtain considerable knowledge of a man, even when he does
not purposely disclose to you the mystery of his person.

If, now, on the other hand, you turn from the knowledge
of man to the knowledge of God, you perceive at once that
almost nothing of these five means of help is at your dis
posal. Standing before God you do not find an analogy in
your own being to His Being, because He is God and you
are man. The closer knowledge of your fellow-man which
you acquire from your sharing his modality of existence falls
entirely away, since the distance between you and the Eter
nal Being discovers itself the more overwhelmingly as your
existence specifies itself. The division into kinds is of
equally little service, because there is but one God, of whom
therefore no conclusion can be drawn from the species to the
individual. Unintentional somatic unveiling is equally im
possible with God, since asomatic and only spiritual exist
ence characterizes Him as God. And finally, the casual
dropping of a remark does not occur with respect to the
Eternal Being, since the casual and unconscious doing of a
thing is not predicable of God.

The difficulty which the biographer encounters when he
undertakes to sketch the development of a character that
belongs to another age, land and surroundings, and of
which almost no personal utterances are handed down in
writing, repeats itself with the Theologian, only in an abso
lute measure. His aim and purpose is to acquire knowledge
of a Being which is essentially distinguished from himself
and from all other creatures ; a Being which, by no amount
of investigation, he can compel to give knowledge of itself ;
which as such falls entirely outside of his reach ; and over
against which he stands absolutely agnostically, in accord
ance with the true element of Spencer's Agnosticism.

Let it not be said, that an infinite number of things are
manifest and knowable of God, in the works of creation, in
history, and in the experiences of our own inner life ; for all
this leads to a certain knowledge of God, only when God has
begun to reveal Himself to me as a God, who exists and exists

CHAP. 1] OF THEOLOGY 251

as God. Even though for the moment we do not reckon
with the darkening of sin, all that is called " natural revela
tion" would not impart to us the least knowledge of God,
if it were not willed by God, and as such make an inten
tional revelation, i.e. a disclosure in part of His Divine
mystery. Suppose that on the fixed stars there lived a
race of beings, of an entirely different type from what we
have ever known ; the simple report of what they had
done would never advance our knowledge of them, as long
as the idea, not to say every conception, of their kind of
being were wanting. From the nature of the case this is
much more forceful with reference to the knowledge of God,
and the contemplation of visible things would avail us ab
solutely nothing, if the sense that there is a God, and of
what a God is, were not imparted to us in an entirely differ
ent way.

In this sense we speak of a dependent character for Theol
ogy. When an absolute stranger falls into the hands of
the police, which is no infrequent occurrence anywhere, and
steadfastly refuses to utter a single syllable, the police face
an enigma which they cannot solve. They are entirely de
pendent upon the will of that stranger either to reveal or
not to reveal knowledge of himself. And this is true in an
absolute sense of the Theologian over against his God. He
cannot investigate God. There is nothing to analyze. There
are no phenomena from which to draw conclusions. Only
when that wondrous God will speak, can he listen. And
thus the Theologian is absolutely dependent upon the pleas
ure of God, either to impart or not to impart knowledge of
Himself. Even verification is here absolutely excluded.
When a man reveals something of himself to me, I can
verify this, and if necessary pass criticism upon it. But
when the Theologian stands in the presence of God, and God
gives him some explanation of His existence as God, every
idea of testing this self-communication of God by something
else is absurd ; hence, in the absence of such a touchstone>
there can be no verification, and consequently no room for
criticism. This dependent character, therefore, is not some-

25:2 § 09. THE DEPENDENT CHARACTER [Div. Ill

thing accidental, but essential to Theology. As soon as this
character is lost, there is no more Theology, even though an
investigation of an entirely different kind still adorns itself
with the theological name. In his entire Theology the
Theologian must stand in the presence of God as his God,
and as soon as for a single instant he looks away from the
living God, in order to engage himself with an idea about
God over which he will sit as judge, he is lost in phrase
ology, because the object of his knowledge has already van
ished from his view. As you cannot kneel in prayer before
your God as worshipper, in any other way except as depend
ent upon Him, so also as Theologian you can receive no
knowledge of God when you refuse to receive your knowl
edge of Him in absolute dependence upon Him.

This deep sense of dependence has ever induced our real
theologians, in the days of their power, to place all our
knowledge of God as ectypal Theology, in absolute de
pendence upon the self-knowledge of God, which they called
archetypal Theology. As the ectype is absolutely depend
ent upon the archetype, is governed and formed by it,
thus, they would say, all our knowledge of God is abso
lutely governed by the knowledge which God has of Him
self. Thus they taught that we of ourselves can never enter
into the holy place of the Lord, to examine it and gather
knowledge concerning it, but that it behooves us to take
our stand on this side of the veil, and to wait for what
God Himself will communicate to us from this holy place
and from behind this veil. This revelation or communica
tion, which is imparted to our knowledge, we may consider,
analyze, systematize and cast into the form of our con
sciousness ; but in all these operations all active investiga
tion after what is God's remains excluded, all knowledge
remains received knowledge, and it is not God Himself, but
the knowledge He has revealed to us concerning Himself
which constitutes the material for theological investigation.
Hence ectypal Theology.

The objection raised against this division and appellation
cannot stand. It has been said, that in this way we

CHAP. I] OF THEOLOGY 253

can also speak of an ectypal zoology, botany, etc. For
these parts of His creation are also known to God before
they are known to us ; and all our knowledge of the world
of animals and plants, etc., is either in harmony with the
knowledge God has of them and then true, or in antago
nism with it and then false. This distinction between
archetypal and ectypal knowledge is valid in every depart
ment, and therefore may not be claimed as something char
acteristic of Theology. But this objection is altogether
inaccurate. For instance, I can order a sketch to be made
of a gable-roof, which upon examination is seen to agree
entirely with the original drawing of the architect ; but
does that prove that this last sketch has been copied from
the original drawing ? No, only if this sketch had not been
made from the gable, but immediately from the original
drawing, would it have been ectypal ; but not now. It is
not true, therefore, that our botanical and zoological knowl
edge can be called ectypal. It \vould be this, if we did not
draw this knowledge from the world of animals and plants,
but copied it apart of these realities from the decree of
creation, as far as it referred to animals and plants. We
will not stop to consider the question whether our knowl
edge of the world of angels, of the soul, of the other side
of the grave, of the future, etc., is not ectypal ; this ques
tion is in order in the section on the ambitus (circle) of
Theology. It is enough if the essential difference is
clear between a knowledge which is the result of the
active investigation of an object, and that wholly different
knowledge which we must first passively receive and then
actively investigate. And with the old Theologians we
maintain the ectypal character of the knowledge of God,
since no man can investigate God Himself, and all the
knowledge which we shall have of God can only be a copy
of the knowledge God has of Himself, and is pleased to
communicate to us.

Besides the strictly dependent character of Theology, there
lie in this ectypal characteristic two suggestions, which must
be emphasized. First, that there is no involuntary re vela-

254 § 59. THE DEPENDENT CHARACTER [Div. Ill

tion. This refutes the idea that God may be more or
less unconscious of Himself, or that He could be seen by
us in His works, without His willing or knowing it. Since
this ectypal Theology has its rise only from the fact that
archetypal Theology imprints itself in it, there is nothing
in the ectype which was not first in the archetype. Every
thing, therefore, from without that mingles itself with the
ectype and does not come to it from the archetype, is con
traband and must be excluded. A child may watch his
father without his perceiving it or wanting to be watched ;
a precocious child can sometimes know his father better
than he can know himself ; but nothing of all this can ever
take place with reference to God, because all this springs
from the imperfection of the father or from the superiority
of his child, and the very idea of God excludes every pos
sibility both of incompleteness in God and of superiority
in His creature. All representations of this sort, therefore,
which have crept more and more into Theology, must
be banished as impious, since they start out essentially
from the exaltation of man above God. The second
point, which must be emphasized in the ectypal character
of our knowledge of God, is the truth of our knowledge of
God. If the ectypal originates by the imprint of the
archetypal, the ectypal image is no phantasy, no imagination,
but an image in truth. Just as we saw in the antithesis
between Theology here and hereafter, that our knowledge
of God on earth shall then be done away, and rise again
in a nigher form of a knowledge "face to face"; but
always such, that the truth of our knowledge " in part "
shall be the more fully exhibited by the completer knowl
edge in heaven. Our given knowledge of God derives
from this its absolute character, not as to its degree of
completeness, but with reference to its connection with its
object, i.e. with God. God who is, lias knowledge of Him
self ; and from this self-knowledge God has taken the knowl
edge given to us. This excludes not only doubt, but also
the dilution of subjectivism, as if our formulated statement
of the knowledge of God in our confession were unim-

CHAP. I] OF THEOLOGY 255

portant, and without loss of truth could be exchanged for
every other confession or placed on a line with it.

Meanwhile we should guard against anthropomorphism in
our representations of this archetypal knowledge of God. As
human beings, we do not know ourselves at the beginning
of our lives , gradually we obtain a certain consciousness
of our own person, and we frame a certain representation of
our personal existence and of our inner being. In in
timate intercourse we can impart this representation of
ourselves to others. And in this way it is also possible
to speak of a certain archetypal and ectypal knowledge of
our person. But if this were applied similarly to God, we
would incur a very serious error. We cannot conceive of
a gradually increasing self-consciousness in God, and con
sequently of an existence of God that preceded His con
sciousness. Consciousness in God covers His entire existence,
and the word " eternal " is predicable of both in an intensive
sense. Hence with God there can be no self-knowledge
which has been formed in a human way by observation,
analysis, inference, etc. The self-knowledge in God is sui
generis, and therefore Divine. If this condemns the admis
sion of all anthropomorphism in the archetypal knowledge,
this mode of representation is equally inadmissible in our
communication of this knowledge to man. When we com
municate something concerning ourselves to another, it is
man who imparts something to man, and thereby deals
with analogies that are mutually present, and with similar
representations which render the understanding of our
communications possible. All this, however, falls away
when God approaches man. Then it is not God revealing
knowledge of Himself to a Q-od, but God imparting His
self-knowledge to man. Moreover, in our communications
with others concerning ourselves, we are bound to the form
of thought, and must take the capacity for knowledge as it
is ; but there is no such limitation with God, who Himself
created the creature to whom He has determined to impart
this self-knowledge, and thus was able to adapt this capacity
for knowledge to His revelation. And, finally, it should be

• )•

20b §59. DEPENDENT CHARACTER OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

remembered that we can mutually come close to each other's
heart, but can never penetrate each other's inner selves ;
while the door to the secret and innermost recesses of our
being is open to God.

It was entirely correct, therefore, when in olden times
it was additionally stated that ectypal Theology reveals
to us the self-knowrledge of God according to our human
capacity; and that the necessity was felt in the eigh
teenth century (see De Moor, Comm. in Marck., Vol. I.,
p. 29) of limiting archetypal Theology to that self-knowl
edge of God, quam creaturae manifestare decreverat, i.e.
" ivhich he had decreed to reveal to the creature." In it
self this was correctly viewed ; in order to preserve the
image of the type, the ectypal must be equal in extent
and form to the archetypal. And yet this further expla
nation has not made the matter itself more clear, but more
confusing, — both mechanically and intellectually. In the
self-knowledge of God there are not ten parts, six of which
he has decided to reveal unto us ; but, though only " as in a
glass darkly," the whole image has been reflected to us in
Revelation. Neither will it do to interpret the revelation
of God's self-knowledge as a merely intellectual communica
tion, independent of Creation and the Incarnation ; for this
would cut in Revelation itself the main artery of religion.

Rather, therefore, than lose ourselves in this intellectual-
istic abstraction, we adopt the names of Archetypal and
Ectypal Theology in the originally fuller sense, i.e. as
standing in immediate relation to the creation of man after
the image of God. As man stands as ectype over against
God, the archetype, man's knowledge of God can therefore
be only ectypal. This is what we meant when we called
Theology a dependent knowledge — a knowledge which is
not the result of an activity on our part, but the result of
an action which goes out from God to us ; and in its wider
sense this action is God's self-revelation to His creature.

CHAP. I] § 60. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY 257

§ 60. Ectypal Theology the Fruit of Revelation

The ectype does not arise unless there is a material that
can receive the impression of the archetype, and the act of
impressing it on this material has taken place. And though
in the preceding section it was maintained that the ectypal
knowledge of God did not arise from our observation of
God but from self-communication on the part of God, and
consequently bears a dependent character, we do not assert,
that for the acquisition of this knowledge of God the nature
and disposition of the subject are indifferent. On the con
trary, all revelation assumes (1) one who reveals Himself;
(2) one to whom he reveals Himself; and (3) the possibility
of the required relation between these two. In revelation,
therefore, man (and more especially sinful man), who is to
receive it, must be taken into account. If, as was done
formerly, we exclusively consider Him who reveals Him
self and that which He reveals, this revelation lies outside
of man; the actual perception and assimilation are wanting;
and the whole end of revelation is lost. In the second
place, it will not do to interpret revelation as an announce
ment or communication of the one subject to the other sub
ject, without taking due account of the fact that the subject
G-od created the subject man, and that God wholly maintains
and governs man from moment to moment ; the result of
which is, that He does not follow a way of communication
that happens accidentally to be present, but that He Himself
lays out the way of communication in keeping with His pur
pose. In the third place, it must be kept in view that the
revelation of God is not an act of a single moment, but a
continuous process, which extends itself across the ages, and
in this extension does not purposelessly swing back and
forth, but propels itself according to the motive contained
in its idea, according to the nature of its successive content,
and according to the nature of the bed which its stream
must form for itself. In the fourth place, this revelation
may not be interpreted as an atomistical self-communication
of God to the several individuals, but must be taken as a reve-

258 § GO. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

lation to man in his generations, i.e. to the organic unity
of humanity, and only in this organic unity to the single
man. And finally, in the fifth place, account must be kept
of the special character which this revelation had to assume,
both with regard to the act of revelation and its content,
and the forming of its channel in the human spirit, in
order, in spite of the obstruction of sin, to accomplish
its original plan and to realize the purpose implied in its
tendency. Though it is thus unquestionably true that in
our sinful state we could never attain to a true Theology,
i.e. a true knowledge of God, unless the form of revelation
were soterioloyical, it is nevertheless necessary that in our
representation of revelation also the fact be emphasized that
the soteriological element is ever accidental, bears merely
an intervenient character, and remains dependent upon the
fundamental conception of revelation which is given in
creation itself, and which teleologically looks forward to
a state of things in which there shall be no more sin, so
that every soteriological act shall belong to a never-return
ing past.

The first proposition therefore reads : Crod reveals Him
self for His own sake, and not in behalf of man.

This only true starting-point for the real study of Revela
tion has been too much lost from view, not only in recent
times, but even in the more prosperous periods of sound
Theology. Even in the treatment of the do</ma of "the
necessity of sacred Scripture," the fact of sin was always
taken as the point of departure, and thus the starting-point
for Revelation was found in the soteriological necessity of
causing light to arise in our darkness. A revelation before
sin \vas, to be sure, recognized, but it was never success
fully placed in relation to revelation in the theological
sense ; and this was especially noticeable in the mechanical
placing side by side of natural and revealed Theology.
To repair this omission is therefore a necessity. Every
interpretation of Revelation as given for mans sake, de
forms it. You either reduce Revelation to the Creation, or

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 259

cause it to occur only after the Creation. If you accept the
latter view, you make it intellectualistic, and it can only
consist, as the Socinian conceived, of an outward mechanical
communication of certain data, commandments, and statutes.
Thus, however, true revelation, which is rooted in religion
itself, is destroyed. If for this reason you favor the other
horn of the dilemma, viz. that Revelation goes back to Crea
tion itself, then the motive for this Revelation cannot be found
in man; simply because man was not yet in existence, and
therefore could be no motive. For though it be asserted
that, as the apostle Peter says, man was foreknown in the
Divine decree before the creation, and that therefore Revela
tion could well point to this foreknown man, the argument
is not valid. For in the decree a motive must have ex
isted for the foreknowledge of man himself; and if it be
allowed that this motive at least could lie only in God, it
follows that Revelation also, even if it found its motive in
man, merely tended to make man what he should be for the
sake of God, so that in this way also Revelation finds its
final end in Grod, and not in man.

But even this might grant too much. With a little
thought one readily sees that Revelation is not merely
founded in Creation, but that all creation itself is revela
tion. If we avoid the Origenistic and pantheistic error that
the cosmos is coexistent with God; the pagan representa
tion that God Himself labors under some higher necessity;
and the Schleiermachian construction that God and the
world were correlate, at least in the idea; and if, conse
quently, we stand firm in the sublime confession: "I believe
in God the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth," the
motive for Creation cannot be looked for in anything outside
of God, but only and alone in Crod Himself. Not in an eter
nal law (lex aeterna), a fate (nolpa) or necessity (avay/cij*),
nor in some need of God nature, nor in the creature that
was not yet created. He who does not worship God as self-
sufficient and sovereign, misconceives and profanes His
Being. Creation neither can nor may be conceived as
anything but a sovereign act of God, for His own glori-

200 §00. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

fication. God cannot be glorified by anything that comes
to Him from without. By His own perfections alone can
He be glorified. Hence creation itself is primarily nothing
else than a revelation of the power of God; of the God
Almighty, who as such is the Creator of heaven and earth.
If this is true of creation, and of the self-revelation of
God which was effected in the creation, this must be true
of all revelation, simply because the cosmos, and every
creature in the cosmos, and all that is creaturely, are given
in the creation. If you deny this, you make an essential
distinction between all further revelation and the revelation
in creation; you place it as a second revelation mechanically
alongside of the first; and lapse again into the irreligious,
intellectualistic interpretation of revelation. If, on the
other hand, further revelation is not taken except in organic
relation to the revelation given in creation, and thus is post
ulated by it, the motive of creation becomes of itself the
motive of its manifestation; and all later revelation must
likewise be granted to have been given us, not for our sake,
but in the last instance for God's own sake. For though it
is self-evident that the manner of operation of this revela
tion in every concrete case adapts itself to the disposition of
the creature, and in this creature reaches its temporal end,
yet in the last instance it only completes its course when
in this operation upon or enriching of this creature it glori
fies its Creator. When this revelation, therefore, leads to
the creaturely knowledge of God, i.e. ectypal Theology, this
knowledge of God is not given primarily for our benefit, but
because God in His sovereignty takes pleasure in leitiy known,
of His creature; which truth is thus formulated in Holy
Scripture, — that God doeth all things for His Name's sake :
sometimes with the additional words: not for your sake*, 0
Israel.

From this the second proposition follows of itself, that
Jtivine Revelation assumes a creature capable of transposing
thi* Revelation into subjective knowledge of God.

Revelation by itself would not be able to realize its aim.

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 261

Imagine that there were no reasonable creatures, and that
the creation consisted of nothing but entirely unconscious
creatures, incapable of consciousness, the perfections of God
revealed in His creation could not be evident to any one but
God Himself. This, however, would be a contradiction in
terms. He who is Himself the Author of revelation, knows
the entire content of His revelation before He reveals it.
Hence nothing can become known to Him by His revelation,
which at first He did not know. This is possible in part
with us. When by the grace of God a poet first carries a
poetical creation in his mind, and afterwards reveals it in
his poem, many things become known to him in this poem
which at first were hid from him. This is accounted for by
the fact that this poet was inspired in his poetic creation by
a higher power, so that he himself did not know all the
obscure contents of his imagination. With God, on the
other hand, such cannot be the case, simply because God
cannot be inspired b}- one higher than Himself, and because
there is nothing in His Being which He does not see
with fullest clearness of vision. This implies that there
can be no mystery for God, either in His Essence, coun
sel, or plan of creation; and hence nothing can become
revealed or known to God by creation. By creation the
contents of His virtues are in nothing enriched ; in no
particular do they become more glorious to Himself; hence
there would be no revelation in creation or in any later
activity of God, if there were no creature to whom all this
could become the revelation of a mystery. For though we
grant that God Himself sees and hears the beautiful in His
creation ; we deny that this display in creation is a greater
joy to God than the view of His perfections in Himself.
Every effort to seek a necessary ground in this sense for
the creation of the cosmos results in cancelling the self-
sufficiency of the Eternal Being, and in making God, by
His creation, come to the knowledge and possession of His
own divine riches; and by a little deeper thought this of
itself leads back again to the theory of the world's co
existence with God.

2G2 § 60. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

The proposition of an unintentional revelation is equally
untenable. This often happens with us, because the reve
lation of our person or of our disposition is not always
under our control. Not only unintentionally, but some
times against our intention and in spite of our purpose
to the contrary, all sorts of things are constantly heard and
seen of us, which it was by no means our desire to reveal.
But this again you cannot apply to the Eternal Being, with
out lapsing into the anthropopathic representation of His
existence. Such unintentional discovery of self to others
results from a lack of power or insight, and from a con
sequent dependence upon many human data. Thus the
omnipotence and absolute independence of God would be
impaired, if in Him you assumed this unconscious, uninten
tional, and in so far accidental, revelation. His revelation
postulates both the will and the purpose to reveal Himself,
and this is inconceivable, unless there is at the same time a
conscious being outside of God, which is able to appropriate
what is revealed, and for which this revelation is intended.
Though a star is praised for sparkling, which it does with
out knowing it, and a flower for the aroma that flows from
its cup without this cup perceiving it, and though, in a
similar strain, we praise the native simplicity of a beautiful
character that radiates without effort and conscious aim,
yet with no such conception can we approach the Lord
our God, for He has nothing that He does not owe to
Himself, and in no single particular is lie a mystery to
Him-:elf. In Him whose is the highest and the most com
plete consciousness, there is no room for the conditions of
semi- or total-unconsciousness. What the Confessio Bel-
gica states in Art. 12, that all created things are "for
the service of man, to the end that man may serve his
God," applies also to the realm of revelation, since man is
the creature, by whom whatever is creaturely on earth be
comes the instrument of revelation of the attributes of God.

Our second proposition, however, implies more than this.
The conscious creature is not only indispensable in order that
revelation can be revelation, but that which is revealed must

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 263

also be transposed by man into subjective knoivledge of God
and of His perfections. That which God reveals is conscious
knowledge of Himself, before He reveals it. He is not a
Light from which effulgence radiates, while He Himself
does not know that light. His self-knowledge is absolute,
and the impulse to reveal His perfections arises from His
knowledge of them. And therefore this revelation of His
perfections does not reach its aim nor point of rest until God
is known. Hence, without ever giving themselves to intel-
lectualism, the Holy Scriptures always put this knowledge
of Gf-od in the foreground, and stand in prospect a " know
ing of God as we are known." If Mozart had been a
completely self-conscious musician, he would not have been
able to develop his compositions otherwise than with the
will and aim of finding performers and hearers who would
not only hear his compositions and perform them, but would
also understand them. And in like manner revelation flows
from the archetypal knowledge of God and strives to become
ectypal knowledge of God in man. Thus revelation itself
is properly no Theology, but flows from the auto-Theology
in God Himself and has Theology, i.e. knowledge of God
in man, for its result.

This leads to our third proposition, viz. that man, in order
to do this, must be adapted by nature, relation and process to
interpret ivhat has been revealed as a revelation of G-od and to
reduce it to subjective knoivledge of Crod.

It was the aim of propositions one and two to show that
man did not come into being indifferent as to the manner
how, and only afterwards revelation was added to him as
an auxiliary, and was therefore adapted to his need; but
that, on the contrary, revelation finds its end in God, and
our human race was in its creation entirely adapted to this
revelation. In this third proposition examine this original
and necessary relation between revelation on the one side
and the nature, relation and development process of our race
on the other. And we point at once to the twofold office

204 §CO. KCTYPAL THEOLOGY [Dir. Ill

of man in revelation. He is not only to appropriate that
which has been revealed, but he is himself a link in that reve
lation. This is exhibited most strongly in his logos, since
by his logos he appropriates revelation to himself, and in his
logos reflectively (abbildlich) reveals something of the eter
nal logos. If the cosmos is the theatre of revelation, in this
theatre man is both actor and spectator. This should not be
taken in the sense that, in what is revealed in him, he adds
one single drop to the ocean of cosmical revelation, but
rather, that man himself is the richest instrument in which
and by which God reveals Himself. And he is this not so
much on account of his body and his general psychical
organization, but chiefly on account of that deepest and
most hidden part of his being, in which the creaturely
reaches its finest and noblest formation. And if, without
lapsing into trichotomy, we may call this finest element in
our human being the pneumatical, we define it as being both
the choicest jewel in the diadem of revelation and the instru
ment by which man transmutes all revelation into knowledge
of Grod. Both are expressed in the creation of man after the
image of G-od. On one hand, one's image is his completest
revelation, and on the other hand, from just that creation
after God's image originates that higher consciousness of
man, by which in him also the logos operates. This is
what the older Theology called innate or concreate Theologv

O «' O ».

(theologia innata or concreata), and to which the doctrine
of faith must be immediately related.

To make this clear we must go back a moment to the iirst
man, who, in so far as he represented our entire race, Avas
no individual, and in whose case we do not yet need to
reckon Avith the relation in which we stand to other men.
It is evident that, when thus taken, Adam possessed in him
self, apart from the cosmos, everything that was necessary
to have knowledge of G-od.

Undoubtedly many things concerning God were manifest to
him in the cosmos also; without sin a great deal of God would
have become manifest to him from his fellow-men ; and through
the process of his development, in connection with the cosmos,

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 2G5

he would have obtained an ever richer revelation of God.
But apart from all this acquired knowledge of God, he had
in himself the capacity to draw knowledge of God from what
had been revealed, as well as a rich revelation from which to
draw that knowledge. Our older theologians called these
two together the "concreate knowledge of God"; and cor
rectly so, because here there was no logical activity which
led to this knowledge of God, but this knowledge of God
coincided with man's own self-knowledge. This knowl
edge of God was given eo ipso in his own self-conscious
ness; it was not given as discursive knowledge, but as
the immediate content of self-consciousness. Even in our
present degenerate condition, when much of ourselves can
only be learned by observation, there is always a back
ground of self-knowledge and of knowledge of our own
existence, which is given immediately with our self-con
sciousness. Before the fall, when no darkening had yet
taken place, this immediate self-knowledge must have been
much more potent and clear. And thus it could not be
otherwise but that in this clear and immediate self-knowl
edge there was, without any further action of the logos in
us, an equally immediate knowledge of God, the conscious
ness of which, from that very image itself, accompanied him
who had been created in the image of God. Thus the first
man lived in an innate knowledge of God, which was not
yet understood, and much less expressed in words, just as
our human heart in its first unfoldings has a knowledge of
ideals, which, however, we are unable to explain or give a
form to. Calvin called this the seed of religion (semen reli-
gionis), by which he indicated that this innate knowledge of
God is an ineradicable property of human nature, a spiritual
eye in us, the lens of which may be dimmed, but always so
that the lens, and consequently the eye, remains.

In connection with this, now, stands faith, that wonderful
Trio-™?, the right understanding of which has been more and
more lost by the exclusively soteriological conception of our
times. Of course as a consequence of the fall faith also
was modified, and became faith in the Saviour of the world.

266 § 60. ECTYl'AL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

But the form which anything has received as a consequence
of sin can never be its proper or original form ; and it is
equally absurd to look upon saving faith as a new spiritual
sense implanted for the first time by regeneration. Nothing
can ever be added to man by regeneration which does not es
sentially belong to human nature. Hence regeneration cannot
put anything around us as a cloak, or place anything on our
head as a crown. If faith is to be a human reality in the regen
erate, it must be an attitude (habitus) of our human nature
as such ; consequently it must have been present in the first
man ; and it must still be discernible in the sinner. To prove
the latter is not difficult, provided it is acknowledged that
ethical powers (sensu neutro) operate in the sinner also, even
though in him they appear exclusively in the privative, i.e. sin
ful form. Taken this way, the pistic element is present in all
that is called man ; only in the sinner this pistic element as
sumes the privative form, and becomes unfaith (airicrTia). If
sin is not merely the absence of good (carentia boni), but posi
tive privation (actuosa privatio), aTriaria also is not only the
absence of faith (absentia fidei), but the positive privation of
faith (actuosa fidei privatio), and as such sin. By overlook
ing this distinction our earlier theologians came to speak
of the innate knowledge of God (cognitio Dei innata)
as an attitude (habitus), which properly invited criticism.
Cognitio can be no habitus. But while they expressed
themselves incorrectly, they were not mistaken in the mat
ter itself; they simply failed to distinguish between concreate
theology (concreata), and faith which is inseparable from
human nature. Faith indeed is in our human consciousness
the deepest fundamental law that governs every form of dis
tinction, by which alone all higher "Differentiation" becomes
established in our consciousness. It is the daring break
ing of our unity into a duality; placing of another ego
over against our own ego; and the courage to face that
distinction because our own ego finds its point of support
and of rest only in that other ego. This general better
knowledge of faith renders it possible to speak of faith in
every domain; and also shows that faith originates primor-

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 207

dially from the fact that our ego places God over against
itself as the eternal and infinite Being, and that it dares to
do this, because in this only it finds its eternal point of
support. Since we did not manufacture this faith our
selves, but God created it in our human nature, this faith
is but the opening of our spiritual eye and the consequent
perception of another Being, excelling us in everything,
that manifests itself in our own being. Thus it does not orig
inate after the Cartesian style from an imprinted idea of
God, but from the manifestation of God in our own being to
that spiritual eye which has been formed in order, as soon as
it opens, to perceive Him and in ecstasy of admiration to be
bound to Him. By faith we perceive that an eternal Being
manifests Himself in us, in order to place Himself over against
our ego, in the same way in which we discover the presence
of light by our eye ; but what this eternal Being is and what
it demands of us, is not told us by faith, but by the innate
knowledge of God, presently enriched by the acquired.

The discovery, the perception of a mightier Ego, which is
above and distinct from our own ego, is therefore the start
ing-point of all religion and of all knowledge of God. If
we were not created after God's image, this manifestation
would affect us strangely and cause us fear; but since in
virtue of our creation there is an affinity between our own
ego and that other Ego revealing itself to us, the manifesta
tion of that mighty Ego affects us pleasantly, it fascinates
and satisfies us with a feeling of infinite rest. It appeals to
us. And as all revelation finds its completion only in this,
this appeal becomes at length a speaking to us. There is
fellowship between that peace-bringing Being, that reveals
itself to us, and our own ego. He is the heavenly Friend,
who does not merely reveal himself as a silent presence, but
who, asking for our word in prayer, addresses us in the high
est utterances of spirit, i.e. in the transparent word, and
only in thus speaking to us becomes our God, unto whom
goes out the worship of our hearts. In this way only does
man know his God; not with a knowledge of Him or con
cerning Him, but in such a way that with the deepest utter-

268 §60. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

ance of the soul lie knows his God personally; not yet with
the full vision, but with something already of the seeing
of face to face lost by sin, and only to be- perfected in the
full unfolding of our nature. Thus there is a revelation
of God about us and within us, and the latter culminates in
the personal knowledge of the living God, as a God who
dwells among and associates with us, and allows us to asso
ciate with Him. He who understands it differently from
this separates Revelation from religion, and degrades it to an
intellectualistic communication of certain facts or statutes.
For the fact must not be abandoned that religion germinates
only when it attains unto that which is written of Enoch,
viz. that he walked with G-od. Neither knowledge nor pious
feeling by themselves can ever be called religion. Only
when your God and you have met each other and associate
and walk together, does religion live in your heart.

But even this does not fully construe the conception of
innate tlieology. The distinction between the seed of re
ligion and faith, both of which are increated in our human
nature, explains how from the side of God a revelation takes
place in us, and how our ego is disposed to observe this
revelation in us, but this by itself does not give us any
theology yet, i.e. knowledge of God. Even though revela
tion in us on the one hand, and the working of our faith on
the other hand, have so far advanced that at length we have
perceived God in us and consequently knoiv God, we have
as yet no knowledge of God, and hence no theology. I
may know a number of persons in the world whom I have
met, whose existence has been discovered to me, and of
whom I have received general impressions, while yet I
have no knowledge of them. That I may have knowledge
of him whom I have met, the logical action must first take
place. AVben I have met some one and thus know him, I
inquire about him, or seek an interview with him, that
I may obtain knowledge of his person. And such is the
case here. Though God icorks and manifests Himself in
our being, and though I have the power of faith to per
ceive this inworking and this manifestation, this produces

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 269

nothing in me beyond perceptions, impressions and feelings ;
while I am left to the mysticism of my emotions. If from
this mysticism I want to advance to knowledge, and transform
revelation into theology, the logical action must enter in
between ; perception must pass over into thought ; impression
must sublimate itself into a conception; and thus the seed
of religion must unfold the flower- bud in the word; viz. the
word of adoration. Hence this logical action also was in
cluded in innate theology ; simply because otherwise it could
have been no i\\Qology. This, however, should not be taken in
the sense that Adam was created with some sort of a cate
chism in his head ; for logical action presumes subjective
action of the human mind. If, therefore, we should speak
with entire accuracy, we should say that there was no incre-
ated theology in Adam, but that he was so created, that, in
his awakening to self-consciousness, he arrived of necessity
at this original theology from the data that were present in
him. In a literal sense respiration was not increated in
Adam, for the first inhalation only came when the creation
was completed, while before the creation was ended he could
not draw breath. Breathing is an action of the person
which comes only when the person exists. Since all the
conditions for breathing are given in our nature, and every
person born in this nature breathes of himself and from
necessity, no one hesitates to acknowledge that respiration
is inborn with us all. It were mere prudery, therefore, to
object to the expression of innate or concreate theology ; for
though theology is the result of a logical action in the sub
ject, with Adam this logical action took place immediately
and from necessity ; and it was by this alone that the
receiving of an oral revelation was already possible in para
dise. For it is plain that the entire representation which
the Scripture gives us of the intercourse with God in
paradise, of the fall and subsequent promise, becomes un
intelligible and falls away, if we assume in Adam exclu
sively the sense of the eternal, and deny him all conscious
knowledge of God.

La-n(/u,a<:/e itself decides the case. Speech without Ian-

270 § CO. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

guage is inconceivable, and lie who in contradiction to the
Scriptures declares that the first man could utter at most a
few vague sounds, but was not in possession of language,
wholly denies thereby the Christian doctrine of creation and
the fall, and consequently of the Salvation in Christ. If, on
the other hand the original man, to speak with Heraclitus,
possessed a language by fyvcns,1 the very possession, of that
language assumes a logical action which is immediate, regu
lar and pure equally with our respiration. And if from
the nature of the case this logical action was originally
limited with reference to its content to what man perceived
in himself, and, in his inner perceptions, the perception of
God stood majestically in the foreground, it is evident that
the first natural action of the human consciousness could
have been no other than the necessary translating into
knowledge of God of the inner sensibilities and perception
effected in him by God Himself. And on this ground we
hold that innate or concreate theology presumes three fac
tors : (1) the inworking and manifestation of God Himself
in Adam's inner being ; (2) faith, by which the subject
perceives and grasps this inworking and manifestation ; and
(3) the logical action, by which of himself and of necessity
he reduces this content in his heart to knowledge of G-od, in
the form of thought and word.

From this it does not follow that one of these three fac
tors should fall outside of Revelation. With none of these
three factors do we overstep the boundary of creation,
and all creation as such belongs to the domain of revelation.
This does not need to be shown of the first factor. The
action of God in our being is of itself revelation. But this
same thing is true also of the second factor : faith. For
what is faith but the sympathetic drawing of the image
(Abbild) to the original (Urbild) ; and what is there
revealed in this faith but that God lias created us after

1 In opposition to the conventional theory of Pemocritus, Heraclitus
taught that language was produced in us by the impressions received from
the objects in or around us. So Dumocritus taught a language by 06rts, he
by <pvvis.

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 271

Himself, for Himself, and to Himself? And concerning
the third factor, viz. the knowledge which is the result of the
logical action, what expresses itself in this but the reflective
(abbildliche) working in us of that Logos, which is in God
and itself is God? The whole man, therefore, in his exist
ence, in his relation to God, in his communion with, and
his knowledge of, God, is originally but one rich revelation
of God to man. At a later period revelation may also come
to him from without ; but it begins by being in him, as an
immediate result of his creation.

This innate or connate theology was destined to be en
riched by acquired (acquisita) theology. Not in the sense of
addition, as though this increated knowledge would gradu
ally increase by such and such a per cent. Innate theology
was rather a completed whole by itself. It constituted all
that knowledge of God, which was to be obtained from the
immediate communion of God with the individual soul. It
completed that knowledge of God, whose principium lies in
the mystery of the emotions. But since the creation did not
consist of that single soul but of a human race, and of a
cosmos as the basis of this entire human race, a revelation of
God was also necessary in that cosmos and in that organic
unit of humanity ; and since the individual soul stands in
organic relation to humanity and to the cosmos, its knowl
edge of God had to include both these other spheres of
revelation. Even though you conceive a development apart
from sin, acquired theology would of itself have been
joined to innate theology, as soon as man entered into con
scious relation to the cosmos and humanity as an organic
unit. Not for the sake of rilling out what was incomplete,
but of enriching the knowledge complete in itself with the
revelation in both these other spheres. Thus, for instance,
to enlarge upon this with a single word, the idea of God's
Omnipotence, Wisdom, etc., would never have entered into
the consciousness of the soul from the cosmos nor from
the universal human life. These ideas lie in innate the
ology, and are given in the idea of Grod as such. Neverthe
less the significance and tendency of these ideas are only

272 § GO. KCTYl'AL THEOLOGY [Dir. Ill

clearly seen " since the creation of tlie world, being perceived
through the things that are made." And as to the acquired
theology which conies to the individual soul from its relation
to the organic unity of humanity, it is evident at once that
the Divine is too potent and overwhelming to reveal itself
iu one human soul. Only in the combination of the whole
race of man does this revelation reach its creaturely com
pleteness. Which could not be so if one man were merely a
repetition of another, but which leads to that completeness
since every individual is a specific variation. Herein also
lies the ground for the social character of all religion. The
knowledge of God is a common possession, all the riches of
which can only be enjoyed in the communion of our race.
Not, indeed, as if even outside of religion man is a social
being, so that of necessity his religion also is of a social char
acter, for this would reverse the case ; but because humanity
is adapted to reveal God, and from that revelation to attain
unto His knowledge, does one. complement another, and only
by the organic unity, and by the individual in communion
with that unity, can the knowledge of God be obtained in a
completer and clearer sense.

For this reason reference was made not merely to our
nature, and to the relation we sustain to one another, but
also to the process or course run of necessity by human devel
opment. Without sin Adam would not have remained what
he was, but he and his race would have developed them
selves into a higher condition. The process as known in
reality may be dominated by sin, but even with a sinless
existence there would have been a process of develop
ment; and this element must be reckoned with in theuloyia
acquisita. Of course we cannot enter into the particulars of
a supposed possibility cut off by sin. This were to lose
ourselves in fiction. But in general it may be al'lirmed,
(1) that even without sin human existence would have been
a successive existence in time, and consequently an exist
ence in the form of a process ; (2) that the entire human
race was not in existence at once, but could only come suc
cessively to life; and (3), as is seen from the paradise narra-

CHUF. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 273

tive itself, the study of the cosmos would have borne a
successive character. Hence in this process there would
have been progress, and not simple repetition. Difference
of relation to the Eternal Being would have resulted from
difference of conditions. The relations among these sev
eral conditions would have been organic. Hence in this
process of human development there would of itself have
appeared a process of development of the knowledge of God.
Yea, this process itself, as history foreordained and ruled by
God from step to step, would in turn have become a revela
tion sui generis. In this development of the human race
the logical consciousness in man would likewise have ob
tained a development of its own. Thus parallel to the
process of history there would have run a history of man
as a logical being. In proportion as revelation enriched
itself, the instrument would thus have become more potent by
which man transmuted the treasures of this revelation into
Theology. We do not say that this would have taken place
in the form of our present science. In our human existence
everything is so intimately connected, that the modification
which our entire existence experienced by sin and by sin-
restraining grace, both "common" and "particular," im
presses its stamp upon our science also. Abstraction, which
at present is absolutely indispensable to our science, would
certainly not have exercised so strong an influence without
sin as it does now. But in whatever form common human
consciousness might have developed itself without sin,
Theology, i.e. the knowledge of God, would have occupied
a sphere of its own in the world of thought, and would by no
means have been restricted to the secret reverie of individuals
upon the sensations of their inmost soul. All revelation
proceeds from the Logos (John i. 1-8), and therefore cannot
rest content as long as it is not grasped and reflected back
by the logical consciousness of individuals and of the whole
of humanity, i.e. by the "logos in humanity." In this way
knowledge of God would have proceeded immediately from
revelation, and in virtue of the organic relation and develop
ment of our race this knowledge of God eo ipso would have

274 § GO. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

assumed a scientific form, even if by another effort of the mind
than that from which at present the science of Theology is
born. Theology as a science would then have proceeded
immediately and of necessity from Theology as the personal
and universal knowledge of God, and it would never have
entered the mind of any one to understand by the name of
Theology anything but that God-knowledge itself. Scien
tific Theology also would rigorously have maintained its
character as knowledge of God. The three above-mentioned
factors — revelation, faith and the logical action — are and
ever will be with acquired Theology also, which develops
of itself into scientific Theology, the three constituent ele
ments of ectypal Theology. Without revelation nothing is
known; without faith there is no apprehension nor appropria
tion of that revelation ; and without the logical action, that
which has been perceived cannot be transmuted into subjec
tive knowledge of God.

We, however, may not rest content with this supposition
of a sinless development. The development is a sinful one,
and all closer insight into the nature of Theology must
therefore deal with this fact. And yet we do not deem the
exposition superfluous of the relation which would have
arisen in the case of a sinless development. It is rather a
significant fault that in later theological studies this has
been too much neglected. We understand what darkness is
only from the antithesis of light. Pathology assumes the
knowledge of the normal body. And so too the sinful de
velopment of our race and of its wrorldof thought, in relation
to intervenient grace, can never be understood except we first
leave sin out of account. He only who has before his eyes
the straight line understands the crooked line. To note a
deviation, I must know where the right path runs. And the
negative or privative character of sin makes this also neces
sary with the study of Theology. By the too exclusively
soteriological interpretation of Theology we have become
unaccustomed to this ; while the theologians, who avoided
this danger, weakened the fact of sin, and so lost more or
less the whole antithesis. Formerly, however, in the days

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 275

when Theology was still taken theologically, this distinction
was rigorously maintained; and every one who, as theolo
gian, aims again at Theology in its real sense, must return
with us to this distinction.

But neither in this discussion of the Revelation of God to
the sinner, any more than in the first part of this section in
our explanation of the Revelation of God to man, will we
describe the content and form of that Revelation itself. For
so far as the form of this revelation is in order in Encyclo
pedia, it falls to be treated in the chapter on the Principium
of Theology. Since now, however, we have only just begun
to develop the conception of Theology from its idea and
histor}r, we cannot concern ourselves with that content and
form, but must confine ourselves here to its general character.

In view of this our fourth proposition reads, that the revela
tion of Crod to the sinner remains the same as the revelation of
Grod to man without sin, only with this ttvofold necessary differ
ence, that formally the disorder in the sinner must be neutral
ized, and materially the knowledge of Crod must be extended so
as to include the knowledge of God's relation to the sinner.

In this connection we need not concern ourselves with the
fact that it is grace that speaks in the so-called soteriological
Revelation. This belongs properly to Dogmatics and not
to Encyclopedia. In passing, however, we suggest that
the possibility is conceivable, that after man had become a
sinner, God might have continued to reveal Himself as before.
The result of this would not have been, as is commonly
asserted, that the natural knowledge of God alone would
have survived; for, as will be shown later on, this natural
knowledge of God also is a fruit of grace, and more particu
larly of " common grace." Imagine that all grace had been
withdrawn, so that sin would have been able to develop its
deepest energies in the sinner all at once, without airy check
or opposition, nothing would have remained but spiritual
darkness, and all "knowledge of God " would have turned
into its opposite. Hence to obtain a clear insight into the

270 §oo. KCTYI-AI, TIII;OLO<;Y [DIT. in

modification suffered by the original revelation on account of
sin, we must go back to this hypothesis and put the ques
tion, in what condition the three factors of the knowledge
df (iod — revelation, faith and the logical action of the
human mind — would exhibit themselves under this con
stellation.

Revelation, taken as limited to man and interpreted ;is the
imvorking and manifestation of (iod in man's hidden being,
does not cease with sin; nothing can annihilate the omni
presence! of (iod, not even sin; nor can man's dependence us
image; upon the archetype be destroyed, neilhe:r can the: mys-
t ical eonlae;t of the infinite and the finite in the: human soul be
abolisheel. Thus re:velatiem in continued in the heart e>f man.
Thai, \vhie:h in his he;llish terror drove Juelas te> despair and
suicide, was but the; perception e>f this fearful manifestation
of (Joel in the elcepe;st e;entre; e>f his person. Only this reve-
lation, \vhie;h was originally sympathetic, turns inte> its
e)ppe>site and becomes antipathetic. It becomes the revela-
tion e>f a (iod who se;iiels out, His wrath and punishes the
sinner. I'A'cn in he;ll the: sinner continues to carry in him-
sedf this in work ing eif (iod's omnipresence. Because; as
sinner ;i,lso he remains forever man and mu»t remain sudi,
IK; can never escape from that, revelation. "If I make: my
be;d in hell, behold, Thou art there'."

The; same: is true; e>f the second factor, Trta-ris. Faith also
belongs to human nature:, consequently the sinner can never
rid himself eif it; it alse> turns into its opposite and becomes
unfaith (cnrio-Tia); which must not be understood as a mere
want or defect of faith, but always as an active: deprivation
(actuosa privatiei). The; energy which by nature: op<;rales
in faith remains the same:, but turns itsedf away freuu (le»e|
and with all the: passion at its command attaches itself /<>
nomcthitHj r/.sv. This is accounted fe>r by tlie; fact that reve
lation e'an no hmger reach its highest pe>int in the- sinne-i,
vi/.. the personal manifestation e»f (iod to the sinner. So
that i( is limiteel to the: internal operations of (iod in His
anger, and thus <e» perceptions in the subject of an awful
power that te-rrifie-s him. This perception can affee-t faith in

rii»p.l| TIIK FHU1T OK UKVKI.ATION *277

two ways: the sinner to whom («od can no longer appear
personally c'un either attribute (his inworking lo some poxver-
ful, terrible creature, ami for that, reason direct his faith to
this moH*trtni* ereature itself; or, against this terrifying1
power in his inmost soul he ean seek protection elsexvhere,
nnd thus eentre his faith upon a ereature that is tympatfattie
to him. A (in he has become a MIIIH-I, man still eontinues
to seek after a #i>in<'tliin<j to whieh to cleave with his faith;
even though, in Diabolism, Satan himself liccame this to him.

And finally the third faetor, t/M Itywtil nation by whieh
that whieh faith roeeives by revelation is raised to subjee-
tive knowledge, remains also operative in the sinner, and,
eases of idiocy and lunacy exeepted, maintains itself in him.
Tin* sinner also is impelled to rolled in his consciousness
the perceptions xvhioh by moiins of faith ho has grasped
as real, and placed in relation to an author. Though the
stimulus of the logical activity ^onorally operates less
strongly in the sinner, siuee it is the tendency of sin to
slacken all activity, yet this is by no moans the ease with
all individuals, and so far as faith has turned into nnfaith
it can strongly stimulate this activity from sheer enmity
against (jod. Kven then, this logical activity does not load
to the knowledge of (Jod, but simply to the erroneous effort
to explain the potent and terrible percept ions, actually re
ceived in one's hointf by the inworkiu^ of (Sod, in such a way
that, (iod is denied by the intolloet, and all such in working is
either explained away or explained from the oreaturo. That
xvhioh is \vritt(>n of Satan: "The devils also believe and
tremble," expresses the condition of the sinner under the per
ception of tin- inworking of (iod in his soul; only with this
difference, that the demont^ as non-somatic, cannot doeeivo
themselves with reference to the reality of the existence of
(iod, and can work no eclipse of His existence by the sub
stitution of a creature, which is the very tiling that man as
sinner can do; at least so lon^ as he is upon earth, and
especially in connection xvith the restraint of sin by common
grace.

In case, therefore, that /. /•. /./^--// had not been modified

278 § 60. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

on the part of God, by way of accommodation to the sinner,
revelation would have worked nothing in man beyond the
sense of the presence of a terrible power that makes him
tremble; faith would have turned into unfaith toward God,
and would have attached itself to an antipathetic or sympa
thetic creature; and the logical activity would have sought
an explanation of that perception, but would never have
achieved any knowledge of God. There would have been no
Theology; and nothing could have been done on the part
of the sinner to create light in this darkness. This lio-ht

«— ' O

could only come from the side of God.

This implies, as the facts of history show, that there was
in fact a modification introduced in the original plan of reve
lation and of the construction from this revelation of a
knowledge of God. It was changed, but not by the addition
of something new and foreign. This would have worked
magically; it would have stood mechanically by the side of
man, and would have been incapable of assimilation. That
which is to be knowable to man and is to be known by man
must correspond to the disposition of human nature. That
which does not approach us in a human perceptible form has
no existence for us, and that which is not adjusted to our
subjective logos can never become the content of our knowl
edge. Hence revelation to the sinner must continue to ex
hibit that same type to which man is adjusted in his creation.
This first, and in the second place there must occur such a
modification in revelation as will make it correspond to the
modifhation which took place in man. The nature of the
change worked in man by sin governs the change which must
follow in revelation. This also affords no room for arbitra
riness or \vhim. The fundamental type remains what it is
in original revelation, and modification in this type must
entirely agree with the modification occasioned by sin. In the
third place, it must not be lost from view that immediate re
straint of the deadly operation of sin was necessary, in order
that such a modified revelation might still be of use. If sin
had once worked its absolute effect, there could be no more
help against it by revelation. All they who have once re-

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 279

ceived the hellish character, lie in a darkness which no ray
of light can penetrate. And in that case all contact with the
light of revelation but leads to sin against the Holy Ghost.
All "special " revelation, as it is commonly though not alto
gether correctly called, postulates common grace, i.e. that act
of God by which negatively He curbs the operations of Satan,
death, and sin, and by which positively He creates an inter
mediate state for this cosmos, as well as for our human race,
which is and continues to be deeply and radically sinful, but
in which sin cannot work out its end (reA,o9). In the cove
nant with Noah especially, which embraced the whole earth
and all that has life upon it, this " common grace " assumed a
more definite form; and human life, as we know it, is not life
in paradise, nor life as it would be if sin had been allowed
to work out its final effects, but life in which evil truly
predominates and works its corruption, but always in such
a way that what is human as such is not destroyed. The
wheel of sin is certainly revolving, but the brakes are on.
This is what our churches confessed when they spoke of
sparks (scintillae) or remnants (rudera) which still re
mained of the image of God, which did not mean that they
have remained of themselves, as though sin would not have
extinguished those sparks or destroyed those remnants had
it been able to do so; but that by "common grace " God has
restrained and curbed for a time the destructive power of sin.
In virtue of the Noachic covenant this restraint continues to
be applied till the Parousia. Then the brake is taken from
the wheel and those sparks also go out into entire darkness.
The so-called "special" revelation, therefore, does not
adapt itself to the sinner, as he would have been, if sin had
worked in him its destruction to the end. Such a sinner
would have become satanic, and consequently have passed
bej^ond all possibility of salvation. But special revelation
is intended for the sinner who stands in common grace.
This is not said in order to postulate in the sinner anything
positive, that could ever produce regeneration. Even while
standing in common grace the sinner is "dead in trespasses
and sin," and in regeneration is absolutely passive; only

280 § 60. ECTYI'AL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

under common grace palingenesis is still j»>0s.s/Wt', while
it has become an entire impossibility in the angel absolutely
fallen and will be impossible in man when he shall have
become absolutely satanic. This refutes the representation
that the sinner is a "stock or block," and what we maintain
is but the antithesis of the Reformed against the Lutheran
representation, in which it was objected to on our part, that
every point of connection for grace was wanting in the
sinner. Re-creation may never be interpreted as an abso
lute creation.

With reference now to the modifications which of neces
sity must occur in the fundamental type of revelation, it is
evident that these must take place in each of the three
factors which lead to the knowledge of God.

Since God in revelation could no longer appear to the
spiritual vision of man, after it had been darkened by
sin, that self-manifestation had to be transferred from the
mystery of soul-life to the outer world, with the incarnation
as its central point, which is by no means the necessary
complement of the normal human development, but was
demanded only and alone by sin. From this it follows of
itself that the method of revelation became inverted. If it
began originally in the mystical nature of the individual,
that so it might grow into a common revelation to our race,
this was no longer possible after the fall. All knowledge,
which as a connected whole directs itself from the external
to the internal, is bound to the method of first establishing
itself in the common consciousness, and from this only can
it enter the consciousness of the individuals. And formally
it is by these two data that special Revelation is entirely
governed; while its material modification could consist in
nothing else than that God should no longer reveal Himself
to the sinner antipathetically in His anger, but sympatheti
cally, i.e. in His pitying grace.

So much for revelation itself. On the other hand, the
modification effected in the second factor- — -faith — bears an
entirely different character. The faith life of the sinner is

CHAP. 1] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 281

turned away from God in cnncrTia, and attaches itself to some
thing creaturely, in which it seeks support against God.
If, now, this turning of faith into its opposite stood as a
psychical phenomenon by itself, this faith could only again
be made right. But such is not the case. That faith turned
into its opposite took place in connection with the entire
change occasioned in the psychical existence of man, and
extended not only to the outward act but even to the root.
Recovery of the original working of faith is, therefore, only
possible by palingenesis, i.e. by bending right again, from
the root up, the direction of his psychical life. Potentially,
in order from the potential to become actual. In the second
place this faith, which was originally directed only to the
manifestation of God in the soul, was now to be directed
to the manifestation of God in the flesh, and thus become
faith in Christ. And in the third place this faith, which
originally could turn to unfaith, was now to obtain such a
character, that, once grasping God in Christ, it should hold
fast forever, and so far as its fundamental tendency is con
cerned, would not again turn back.

It is not so easy to lay hand on the change, necessitated by sin
in the entire scheme of revelation, with reference to the third
factor : the logical action. Here, confusion has sprung from the
almost exclusively soteriological interpretation of the knowl
edge of God. It was thought that Revelation was exclusively
intended to save the elect; consequently Revelation could not
be understood except as directed to the individual person;
and this has prevented every collective view of special Revela
tion as a whole. In this way one becomes at once involved
in the insoluble antinomy, that in order to be saved the first
fallen man in paradise must already have had this Revela
tion in a state of sufficient completeness, and that therefore
all that came afterward was really superfluous, since that
which was sufficient to save Adam ought also to suffice for
Isaiah, Augustine and Luther. From this point of view an
historical, progressive and an ever increasingly rich revela
tion is inconceivable. Already in its first form it must be
complete ; and what is added at a later date is superfluous

282 §60. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

luxury. If meanwhile you face the fact, that this Revelation
has a history, and in part still progresses, and that from
this long process a broadly ramilied and organic whole is
born, you incur the other danger, that in this Revela
tion the saving germ is distinguished from that which has
grown around it; in which way a retreat is suggested from
the clearly conscious to the less clearly conscious ; which
opens the door to boundless arbitrariness; and ends in a
return to mysticism, and in viewing all logical action as
accidental. Which evil is still more aggravated by the
consideration that the humblest-minded people should have
the full offer of salvation, and that even children, who die
before they have awakened to any consciousness, should not
be excluded. And this obliges you to conceive the germ
to be so small that even the simplest mind can grasp it, and
to place the degree of consciousness so loiv, yea, even below
zero, as not to exclude the infant that dies at its very
birth. Thus you see that this exclusively soteriological
interpretation of special Revelation tends directly to its
destruction; for from the nature of the case nothing what
ever remains of an external revelation as the means of sal
vation for the young dying child. Hence it is no help to
3*ou, that along with the logical action you point to divine
illumination. This may be added to it, but soteriologically
can never be the essential condition. And the fact is well
known, that this soteriological interpretation of revelation
as a revelation of salvation has of necessity led many minds
to seek refuge again in the tents of mysticism; and to deem
themselves accordingly authorized to try to their heart's con
tent their anatomical skill upon the Holy Scriptures as upon
a corpus vile.

From this difficulty there is no escape, until special
Revelation is no longer viewed as directed soterioloo-icallv to

O O *J

individual man. Revelation goes out to humanity taken as
a whole. Since humanity unfolds itself historically, this
Revelation also bears an historic character. Since this
humanity exists organically, having a centrum of action,
this Revelation also had to be orf/cmie, with a centrum of its

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 283

own. And as individuals partake of this human life only in
relation to humanity as a whole, so also in relation to this
whole alone is Revelation of any significance to individual
man. By this we do not deny the soteriological aim of
special Revelation, but merely assert that salvation of the
individual soul is not its rule. Its standard is and will be
theological; its first aim is theodicy. Surely whosoever be
lieves on Christ shall be saved; this is possible first and only
because God has sent His Son ; but the aim, and therefore
also end, of all this is, to make us see how God has loved
His world, and that therefore the creation of this cosmos,
even in the face of sin, has been no failure. Hence Reve
lation taken as a whole aims at three things : (1) the actual
triumph over sin, guilt and death, — a triumph which for
the sake of Theology could not be limited to God's plan or
counsel, but was bound to go out into the cosmical reality ;
(2) the clear reflection of the manifold wisdom of God in
the logical consciousness of man; and (3) such a dioramic
procedure, that at every given moment of its career it offers
all that is necessary for the salvation of the contempora
neous generation and of all persons in that generation.
Passing by the first and the third for a moment, we con
sider the second alone as touching directly upon the logical
action. The realization of the triumph over sin, guilt and
death belongs in revelation to life itself ; the salvation of
individuals does not depend in principle upon the logical
action, but upon the rectification of faith; and with the
logical action, which is the point in hand, the main
point is what we called, in the second place, the reflection
of the wisdom of God in the logical consciousness of
humanity. The subject of this action is not the individual
person, but the general Ego of believing humanity — a
limitation in which the additional term of "believing" is
no contradiction, if only it is understood how wrong it is to
suppose that the real stem of humanity shall be lost, and
that merely an aggregate of elect individuals shall be saved..
On the contrary, it should be confessed that in hell there is
only an aggregate of lost individuals, who were cut off from

2S4 §(50. ECTYl'A I, THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

the stem of humanity, while humanity as an organic whole is
saved, and as such forms the "body of Christ." By "believ
ing humanity," therefore, we understand the human race
as an organic whole, so far as it lives, i.e. so far as unbelief
lias turned again to faith or shall turn.

In the general consciousness of humanity thus taken,
the content, according to the original disposition of our cre
ation, should be formed by individual accretion. Bud by
bud unfolds, and thus only is the foliage of the bush gradu
ally adorned with flowers. Without sin the logical action,
which translates the content of faith into a clear concep
tion, and thus into knowledge of God, would have gone out
from the individuals, and from these single rills the stream
would have been formed. Here, also, the way would have led
from within outward. This, however, was cut off by sin.
As soon as sin had entered in, revelation had to work from
without inward, since sin had fast bolted the door which
gave access to the manifestation of God in the soul. No
sooner had sin gained an entrance than Adam discerned and
perceived the presence of the Lord approaching him from
without in the cool of the day. And thus the problem
arises, in what way the logical action, which is to transmute
the content of faith into knowledge of God, can come from
without, in order now inversely, from the general conscious
ness, to reach the consciousness of the individual. And from
the nature of the case there is no simple solution for this
very complicated problem, but a very complex one, which
can only be fully explained in the chapter on the principium
of Theology. The lines alone can here be indicated, whose
combination and crossing offer the figure for this solution.

In the first place, then, let ns observe that the general
subject of the essential ego of restored humanity can be n<>
abstraction, simply because an abstraction is incapable of
any logical action. Agreeably to this the Scripture teaches
that this general subject is the Christ, As we commonly
sav that there is a thinking head in an association, group,
or party, or that he who forms a school is the essentially
thinking head for all his school, so in a much more rigorous

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF KEVELATION 285

sense is Christ the thinking subject of our restored human
ity, in whose common consciousness "the manifold wisdom
of God" is to reflect itself. The Church confesses this by
honoring him as prophet, and Paul expresses it by saying
that Christ is first given us as wisdom (1 Cor. i. 30). Even
though it is the Holy Spirit who executes the logical action,
it is Christ himself who said: "He shall receive of mine,
and shall show it unto you." He is not only the light and
the life and the way, but He is also the truth. And Christ
can be this, because he is himself the Logos, as the Evan
gelist emphasizes so strongly, and because the logos in man
exhibits the image of this Logos of God. If now there were
no causal relation between these two, Christ would be
inconceivable as subject of the new humanity. Since, how
ever, our logos is reflectively (abbildlich) the counterpart of
the divine Logos, and since this Logos is in consequence,
also independently of sin, "the Light of the world," thus
supporting and animating the logical existence of man, it is
in every way conceivable that this Logos should approach
individual man from without, for the sake of executing for
him and in his stead the logical action, for which he him
self had become disabled, and thus by indoctrination in the
literal sense to bring him back again to that logical action.
This was implied in the saying of the older theologians,
that the Logos had revealed himself to us in a twofold way,
viz. in the reality of being by incarnation, aad in the world
of our consciousness by what, for brevity's sake, we will call
inscripturation, without emphasizing for the present the
scriptural part. There was a revelation of the Logos, they
said, in the flesh, and a revelation of the Logos in the ivord,
or, if you please, in being and thought. And because both
these revelations were revelations of the one Logos, they
were organically united in him, and together formed one
whole. If the incarnation were nothing but a physical
fact, without a logical content, this fact could not be taken
up into our consciousness as far as its content is con
cerned. And, on the other hand, if the revelation by the
u'ord had no background in reality, and no central motive

286 § 00. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

in the incarnation, it were nothing but an abstraction.
Since, however, the subject of the incarnation is one with
the subject of the revealed word, there is not merely har
mony between the two, but organic relation ; and this organic
relation is most strongly evident when the incarnate Logos
utters even as man the oracles of God. To be sure the Logos is
not bound to the organ of his own human nature for revelation
by the word; as organic head of the new humanity he can also
speak through the organ of other human persons ; so Peter
affirms of the prophets (1 Pet. i. 11, what the spirit of
Christ which was in them did signify) and Jesus himself
declares of the apostles ; yet the coincidence of the two lines,
that of the incarnation (eWa'p/ecoa-t?) and of the words (XaXi'a),
in Christ's own manifestation, lends an entirely unique
majesty to his word, which does not appear to this extent
either before or after him.
Thus, if it is true of sinless humanity that the "knowledge

•/ O

of God " could gradually ripen in individual persons and from
the few enter into the general human consciousness, it is the
opposite of this that takes place with sinful, and therefore to
be restored, humanity. Christ, as the Head of the Bod}-, is
the general subject of restored humanity; and the knowledge
of God is not only complete in him, but from him it descends
to individual believers. It is the same difference that is
found in the domain of ethics between the dispensations of
paradise and Golgotha. In paradise ethical life is first
personal, and then common, and is intended to progress
toward perfection. In Christ, on the other hand, holiness
is centrally given for his entire mystical body, from him
to communicate itself to his members; while in Christ also
an ethical perfection is offered to us which is no more
to be acquired, but is now finished. And the same is true
of the knowledge of God. This also is first in Christ as
our common head and centrum, and descends from him to
individual believers ("Neither knoweth any man the Father
save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal
him." Matt. xi. 27); and again this knowledge of God
in Christ is perfect ("As the Father knoweth me, even so

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF EEVELATION 287

know I the Father." John x. 15). Our older theologians
expressed this entirely exceptional position of Christ as our
prophet by attributing to him the Theologia Unionis, i.e. that
"knowledge of God" which resulted from what he him
self described by saying: I and the Father are one. The
Christological explanation of this is not in order here, but
in Dogmatics. But to show the significance of this fact
to special revelation, we here indicate these three points:
(1) that the theologia unionis is not taken as an adequate
divine self-knowledge, but always as a human knowledge of
Grod, i.e. a knowledge as complete as the measure of human
capacity will allow, but nevertheless ever bound to this
measure. Our eye can only take in light to a limited
degree of intensity; stronger light does not lighten us,
but blinds our eye, and that degree of light only which is
adjusted to our eye gives us entire clearness. In the same
way a knowledge of God which exceeds our human limita
tions would throw no light into our darkness, but cause us
to see still less. (2) Let it be observed that this knowledge
of God as the fruit of Christ's union with the Father was
not the result of a dialectical analysis, but was intuitive,
and therefore was not acceptable "to the wise and the
learned," but intelligible to babes. It is not said, there
fore, that Christ is our knowledge (yvdoa-is^), much less
that he is our understanding (avvevis), but that he is our
wisdom (<ro0ta). Christ does not argue, he declares;
he does not demonstrate, he shows and illustrates; he does
not analyze, but with enrapturing symbolism unveils the
truth. The statement that Christ " increased in wisdom "
cannot detain us here ; in this instance we merely deal with
Christ after his baptism, when the "hear him" had been
proclaimed of him. And the objection that Christ con
sulted the Holy Scriptures of Israel has no weight with
those who confess, with the apostle Peter, that Christ is
also the subject of prophecy. But in whatever way this
may be taken, the result remains the same. The Son, who
was in the bosom of the Father, has declared Him unto us,
and this implies what we postulated: (1) that the knowl-

§60. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

edge of God of restored humanity was first in its general
subject, i.e. in Christ; and (2) that in this general subject
it was perfect.

If this is the beginning of the logical action by which
regenerated humanity turns into knowledge the content of
revelation received by faith, it is at once evident that this
does not end the logical action. First, there is still want
ing the logical action of the individual, by which he
comes to a personal knowledge of God ; and, in the second
place, the central and complete knowledge of God, which
the whole body of Christ possesses in Him who has been
given it of God for wisdom, must be radiated from all
the combining articulations of regenerated humanity, and
must become "understanding" in its dialectical conscious
ness.

With reference to the first it is necessary that the organ
or instrument for this logical action in the sinner shall
regain the power which it has lost by sin. Although we
are not deprived by sin of the power of thought, and though
our law of thought is not broken, the pivot of our thought
has become displaced, and thereby our activity of thought,
applied to divine things, has a wrong effect. This is
restored by divine illumination, which does not imply that
he who has thus been enlightened is to think more
acutely. Greater or lesser acuteness of thought depends
upon personal conditions which are entirely different. Paul
is a more acute thinker than James, and in acuteness of
thought Aristotle and Kant excel by far the majority of
Christians. If I put a sharp knife in a mowing-machine,
but place it too high, so that it cannot touch the grass, all
action of the machine is in vain; and with a duller knife,
which touches the grass, I will produce ten times as much
effect. And such is the case here. As long as the divine
illumination remains wanting, the logical instrument in the
sinner is out of relation to divine things. It does not touch
them, and therefore its action is in vain. The instrument
of the logical action is not repaired mechanically; this
postulates the palingenesis of our person, which is only

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 289

effected by the Holy Spirit in the regenerate. When, how
ever, this divine illumination has once become actual, at
least in its beginnings, our consciousness is able to appro
priate to itself logically also the content taken up by
faith. Not in the sense that every believer is able to think
out in a clear way the entire content of revelation. This
is only done by all believers together. After these many
centuries, this task is still by no means completed. Person
ally this enlightening simply means that, according to the
peculiarities of his person, according to his needs and the
measure of his gifts, every believer understands everything
that is necessary for confession. Under the influence of
divine illumination, this logical action therefore does not
direct itself to the entire field of revelation, but to its cen
tral content, while the knowledge which extends itself also
to a part at least of the periphery is only the possession of a
very few. Moreover, this logical action does by no means
effect a clear understanding with all, but gives each the
insight suited to the peculiar susceptibility of his person,
which is entirely different with a humble clay-laborer from
what it is with the scholar. But as a result so much
knowledge of God in each case is obtained as corresponds to
the clearness of each consciousness.

Next to this individual insight into the content of revela
tion, no less attention should be paid to the logical action
which brings the content of revelation to clearness in that gen
eral understanding, which in turn serves and enriches personal
knowledge. The foundation for this is laid by apostolic reve
lation, which affords us a more varied and distinguishing look
into the wisdom of Christ. This does not imply that the
apostles offered us anything that falls under the conception
of scientific Theology. He who makes this assertion totally
underestimates their authority. But in their writings the
lines are indicated along which the logical activity of the
so-called scientific Theology must conduct itself through all
ages. Thus they indicate what the content of revelation is,

290 §00. ECTYPAL THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

as well as the relation in which this content as a whole
stands to the past, to the antithetical powers, and to personal
faith and practice. This apostolic knowledge is, therefore,
the complement of revelation itself, since this revelation would
be incomplete if it did not itself produce the roots from
which the understanding must develop itself. This develop
ment can only follow when it finds its point of departure in
revelation itself. Even then this development is not left to
abstract and independent thought, but remains dependent
upon the inworking and guidance of the Holy Spirit. The
human logos, as weakened by sin, can certainly deal with the
content of this revelation, as has been the case in all ages;
but as soon as this movement has reached out after something
more than a mere superficiality, it has become at once anti
thetical, has placed itself in opposition to revelation, and has
sought, and still seeks, logically to destroy it. Hence the
development we referred to can only come from that circle in
which the divine illumination operates, and the logical action
of the circle outside of this can only serve to stimulate
the action of those who have been enlightened and to
make them careful of mistakes. Since in the circle of the
"enlightened" the Holy Spirit operates not merely in in
dividuals, but also in groups and in the whole circle, it
is actually the Holy Spirit who, as "the teacher of the
Church," interprets the content of revelation, and so en
riches and purifies the knowledge of God; not, however, by
the suppression of logical action, but by stimulating and
by employing it as its instrument. The necessary outcome
of this is that this working is not perfect; that it propels
itself by all sorts of vibrations between truth and error; that
it only gradually obtains more firmness, and finally results
in the dogma of the Church.

But even this does not end the task of the logical action.
The understanding of Revelation must be taken up into the
general understanding, from which of itself the need arises
of giving an organic place in the unit of our knowledge to
that knowledge of God lodged in the regenerate, and which
under the guidance of the Holy Spirit the Church, in deadly

CHAP. I] THE FRUIT OF REVELATION 291

conflict, has formulated into dogma. Our knowledge of the
cosmos and of revelation must not merely be brought into
practical harmony for the sake of the life of faith, but in
the human consciousness as such it must also become an
organic whole, and thus Theology rise as a science : first,
in the scholastic sense, so long as it serves no other pur
pose than the justification of the content of Theology at
the tribunal of thought; after that, poll/historically, when
it swarms upon every sort of flower-bed that stands in less
or more relation to Theology; and finally, in the organic
sense, when it places its subjective action, as well as its
given object, in their relation to our world of thought and
the world of other objects. Thus only can that which is at
first potential knowledge unfold itself to a complete and
actual science.

But in this process, from start to finish, it is ever and
always Theology in its proper sense, i.e. the knowledge of
God divinely given, that is taken up into our consciousness,
and is reflected from our consciousness (personal as well as
general). Hence nothing is significant to Theology, because
nothing belongs to it organically, but that which interprets
this "knowledge of God" in its origin, content, significance,
working and tendency.

By way of recapitulation, therefore, we arrive at what
was stated in our fourth proposition, viz. that ectypal Theol
ogy, as revealed by God Himself, is the same in all its
stages ; and that special revelation, i.e. revelation to the
sinner, is only modified to the extent that now it can also be
known what God is willing to be to the sinner. That, fur
ther, this development of revelation goes hand in hand with
an accommodation to the lost condition of the sinner, so that
now revelation does not work from within outward, but
makes its approach from the outer world to the inner life
of man, and that the logical action goes out from the central
ego of Christ, and thus only benefits the individual subject
in the personal believer. And that finally, for the sake of
the assimilation of this knowledge of God by the sinner, his
unbelief must be changed to a faith in Christ, which is only

292 §61. CONCEPTION OF [Div. Ill

possible through, at least a potential, palingenesis of his
whole being.

And thus we reach the point which renders the forming
of the conception of Theology as science, possible, and which
will be considered in the following section.

§ 61. Conception of Theology as Science

Like every other science, the science of Theology can be
spoken of in a twofold sense, viz. either with reference to the
intellectual labor expended upon Theology, or with reference
to the results of that labor. In the latter sense, Theology as
science also remains the knowledge of Grod ; for though its
result is not an increase of the knowledge of God, and can
only lead to a clearer insight into the revealed knowledge of
God, yet every gain in clearness of insight magnifies the
worth of that knowledge. The microscope adds nothing to
the wing of the butterfly, but enables me to obtain a richer
knowledge of that wing. And while the science of Theology
adds no new knowledge of God to the knowledge revealed
to us, scientific Theology renders my fuller assimilation of
its content possible.

Whether this scientific insight into the knowledge of God
is possible and necessary, depends upon the stage of develop
ment which has been reached by the human consciousness.
In fact, in the sense in which we now interpret the domain
of theological studies as one organic whole, the science of
Theology has only been born in our century. Even down to
the middle of the last century, while there was a Theology, as
Dogmatics, with which other studies were connected, yet the
necessity was not felt of moulding these into one organic
whole, and still less the impulse to conjoin this unit of
Theology organically with the other sciences into one archi
tectural whole of science. This was not accidental, but the
immediate consequence of the general spirit of the times.
This same phenomenon presented itself not only in the
domain of Theology, but in the domain of every other
science. The Encyclopedia of Theology had already made
considerable advances, while all encyclopedical insight into

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY AS SCIENCE 293

the psychical and medical sciences was still entirely wanting,
and in the philological and juridical sciences it had scarcely
yet begun. Impelled by its own exceptional position, as
well as by the alarming attitude the other sciences assumed
against it, Theology was the first to give itself an account
of its place and of its calling. For the greater part of the
last century, however, this attempt bore an apologetic char
acter; and only when, by and after Kant, the question about
the essence and the method of our knowledge, and conse
quently of the nature of science in general, pressed itself
forcefully to the front, in our human consciousness, was there
gradually adopted the organic interpretation of Theology as
a whole and as one of the sciences in the great unit of the
sciences, which is now dominant in the Theological faculty,
and is being more widely recognized by the other faculties.
Formerly a science of Theology in that sense was not neces
sary, because the human consciousness in general did not
feel the need of such an interpretation; neither was it pos
sible, because the data for such a construction of Theology,
and of all the other sciences, cannot be borrowed from the
knoivledge of G-od, but from Logic in the higher sense.

Hence the conception, which was formed of Theology in
the academic sense, has certainly been modified. Theology,
taken in the subjective sense, was understood to be our
human insight into the revealed knowledge of God, and
this insight was graded as the subject chanced to be a lay
man, a scholar, or more especially a theologian ; but even in
this highest sense Theology was limited to Dogmatics, gen
erally with Ethics included. This learned insight into the
revealed knowledge of God was for the most part explained
after the scheme of Aristotle or Peter Ramus, and defended
against all objections. This study alone was called Theol
ogy, besides which some theologians would study Church
History and other similar branches; but the relation of all
these to real Theology was merely mechanical. At present,
however, the name of Theolog}*- covers the entire realm of
these studies; there is no rest until a starting-point for
Theology has been found in the unit of science; and. in this

294 § 01. CONCEPTION OF [Div. Ill

connection, the effort is also made to understand organically
the essence of Theology itself.

It is evident that this has given rise to a serious danger
of falsifying the nature of Theology. As what used to
count as the whole of Theology has been classed as a mer,.j
part, the tendency was bound to exhibit itself to seek
the heart of Theology no longer in its principal factor,
but in its auxiliary departments; and similarly when the
articulation of Theology to the organism of science is traced,
of necessity its Nature can no longer be explained simply
from its own principle alone, but also from the general prin
ciple of science. Both these dangers have shown themselves
and have brought their evil with them ; even to such a meas
ure that in the conceptions of Theology, as severally formed
in our times, scarcely a trace of the original significance re
mains. This compels us to hold fast, tooth and nail, to the
original meaning; and therefore, starting out from the idea
of Theology, we have made a transition from the idea to the
conception of Theology, in which the conception of the knowl
edge of God remains the principal part.

The way in which the several departments of theological
study are organically related to this knowledge of God can
only be shown when we come to consider the organism of
Theology; here, however, this organic relation is merely
assumed, so that we do not even say which departments of
study do and which do not find a place in this organic unit.
At present we only speak of a certain group of studies which
together have announced themselves as a theological science,
and are recognized as such at the great majority of universi
ties. This group of departments offers a scientific treat
ment of all sorts of material, which, however widely they
may differ, must nevertheless be bound together by a com
mon motive. This motive neither can nor may be anything
else but the idea of Theology itself, and hence must be con
tained in the knowledge of God revealed to us. If for a mo
ment, therefore, we dismiss from our thoughts the division of
departments, and thus picture to ourselves the theological
science as one ichole, "this revealed knowledge of God,'' and

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY AS SCIENCE 295

this alone, is its object of investigation. This investiga
tion would be superfluous if this knowledge of God were
revealed to us in a dialectic, discursive form. Then, indeed,
the human mind would be released from all necessity for
assimilating this knowledge of God. But such is not the
case. The knowledge of God is revealed to us in a veiled
form, just such as was necessary in order that it might be
valid for every age and people, for every time of life, grade
of development, and condition. Not the dialectically acute
Greek, but the mystic-symbolic man from the East, was
chosen as the instrument to reveal to us this knowledge of
God. Hence a considerable distance still separates this
knowledge of God, as it has been revealed, from the world
of the entirely clarified human consciousness, and the con
sciousness of man has yet to perform a giant's task, before it
has appropriated the treasures of that Revelation with trans
parent purity and has reflected it from itself.

This labor, therefore, is nevertheless not scientific labor in
its entire extent. There are lower grades in the develop
ment of our consciousness, which, though they do not bear
the scientific stamp, are yet productive of early fruit. The
assimilation of the revealed knowledge of God by our human
consciousness has gone through all these grades. There is a
labor of thought devoted to this knowledge of God, which
has had for its exclusively practical purpose the persuasion of
him who stands afar off to confess Christ. There is a labor of
thought expended upon this Revelation with no other purpose
than to defend it against opposition and heresy. This knowl
edge of God has been reflected upon by the human conscious
ness in the personal application of it to one's own condition
and experience of soul. Human power of thought has entered
upon this knowledge of God in preparation for preaching
and catechizing. No less in the formulation of dogma has
human power of intellect labored in the sweat of its brow.
And all that national acumen and the spirit of a given age,
or the sense of a peculiar confession, could produce in rich
variation has been applied with indefatigable diligence
and indomitable perseverance to cause the beauty of this

296 § 61. CONCEl'TION OF [Div. Ill

"knowledge of God" to glisten to its utmost in the prism
of our human thought. But all this, however excellent and
rich, is not yet what we understand by Theology as science.
Of this we can speak only when our intellect does not per
form mere menial service for other purposes, but when in
our consciousness itself awakens the sense of its higher call-
inof, viz. to transmute the mechanic relation between itself

O "

and its object into an organic one. Of course, this does not
imply that science should exist merely for the sake of knowl
edge, and that in entire self-sufficiency it should lose itself
in abstractions. On the contrary, science also, as a sphere of
the Logos, is called as a creature of God to serve its Creator,
and its high and practical purpose in our behalf is, that it
should emancipate us, afford us an independent position in
the face of threatening powers, and that thus it should ad
vance our human existence to higher estates. This, however,
can only be more fully explained when we come to consider
concretely the place of Theology in the whole organism of sci
ence. For the forming of the conception of Theology, it is
sufficient if it is seen that the science of Theology can flour
ish as a plant by itself only when our human consciousness
takes the reins in its own hands and becomes aware of its
sacred calling to melt the ore of this "revealed knowledge of
God " into shining gold, in order, apart from every incidental
aim, as soon as this task is done, to place the fruit of its
labor at the disposal of the higher aim to which its labor es
pecially must be directed.

But because this science engages itself with theologia,
i.e. the knowledge of God, as its object, it could not claim
the name of Theology, if it were not included in the plan of
Revelation and in the nature of this knowledge of God that
the Logos in this higher sense should be one of the means to
enrich our subjective insight into this ectypal knowledge of
God. For which reason we mentioned the fact, in our dis
cussion of Revelation, that it is also the calling of the logical
activity to introduce this knowledge of God into the general
subject of re-created humanity. Christ is no doubt this gen
eral subject in its central sense, on which account, as shown

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY AS SCIENCE 297

above, " wisdom " is given in Him ; but this is still entirely
different from the "understanding" of the general subject of
humanity in the general human consciousness. Only when
from the central subject (Christ) this "wisdom " has entered
into individual believers and into circles of believers of
different times is it possible that, from these individual and
social insights into the wisdom of God, a different kind of
insight can gradually be formed as "understanding," which
cannot rest until it has become adequate to the content of
the wisdom which was in the central human consciousness,
i.e. in Christ. But even if for a moment we imagine the
unattainable ideal that the content of each were adequate,
yet the nature of each would be entirely different ; what was
"wisdom" in Christ as the central subject would have be
come "understanding" and "science " in the general subject
of regenerated humanity; and it is the science of Theology
alone that can lead to " understanding " in this given sense.
As in every domain science, by the establishing of the gen
eral human consciousness, unveils the possibility of single
persons and individual groups, broadening their insight and
clarifying it, such is also the case here. The more the sci
ence of Theology succeeds in giving theology to the general
subject of regenerated humanity, and thus in bringing this
general subject to the knowledge of God, the more clearly
does it open the way to the churches and to believers to attain,
at least so far as the intellect is concerned, to a fuller knowl
edge of God, and thus to a better theology. Even as science
it adds its contribution to the subjective assimilation of the
knowledge of God within its appointed sphere, and so derives
its right to claim for itself the name of Theology. Thus it
presents itself to us as a logical activity, which transfers
ectypal knowledge of God from Revelation, as " understand
ing," into the general subject of (regenerated) humanity.

Meanwhile this qualification of regenerated humanity
demands a fuller explanation. God does not love indi
vidual persons, but the u'orld. His election does not aban
don the human race to perdition, merely to save individuals,
and to unite these as atoms to an aggregate under Christ;

298 §61. CONCK1TION OF [Div. Ill

but He saves humanity, He redeems our race, and if all of
our race are not saved, it is because they who are lost are
cut off from the tree of humanity. There is no organism
in hell, but an aggregate. In the realm of glory, on the
other hand, there is 110 aggregate but the "body of Christ,"
and hence an organic whole. This organic whole is no
new "body,"' but the original organism of humanity, as
it was created under Adam as its central unity. Therefore
the Scripture teaches that Christ is the second Adam. i.e.
that Christ in His way now occupies the same place in
the human race which was originally occupied by Adam.
Hence it is not something else nor something new, but it
is the original human race, it is humanity, which, recon
ciled and regenerated, is to accomplish the logical task of
taking up subjectively into its consciousness this revealed
ectypal Theology, and to reflect it from that consciousness.
AVhatever a man may be, as long as he does not share the
life and thought of this regenerated humanity, he cannot
share this task. "The natural man receiveth not the things

of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him:
neither can he know them, because they are spiritually dis
cerned " (1 Cor. ii. 14). Our consciousness is connected with
ourbeing. Without palingenesis there is no adaptation of our
consciousness conceivable, which would enable it to assimi
late or reflect ectypal Theology, and it is only by the
"enlightening," as the result of palingenesis, that our con
sciousness receives the susceptibility for this. As in the
general subject of humanity the spirit of man (TO TTVCV^O) is
the real agent, so in the general subject of humanity, or in
the body of Christ, the spirit (vr^eO/za) in this body. i.e. the
Holy Spirit, is the inner animator. And therefore the
science of Theology is a task which must be accomplished,
under the leading of the Holy Spirit, by regenerated human
ity, and by those from among its ranks who, being partakers
of palingenesis, and enriched bv "enlightening," have also
in their natural disposition those special talents which are
necessary for this intellectual task.

That the science of Theology is thereby not isolated nor

O •/ v

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY AS SCIENCE 299

cut off from the common root of all science, can only be
explained when we consider the organism of Theology.
Here we affirm that in every domain palingenesis revivifies
the original man as "a creature of God," and for no single
moment abandons what was given in the nature of man. Sin
tries to turn the excellencies of this nature into their
opposites, but this fatal effect of sin has been restrained by
common grace; and where particular grace renders this
restraint potentially complete, and at the same time poten
tially recovers original purity, from the nature of the case
the action of the Spirit in the sphere of palingenesis remains
identical with the action of the Logos in human nature, and
joins itself to the common grace, which has called all science
into being, at every point of investigation.

The science of Theology, therefore, is nothing but a
specialization of what is given in the idea of Theology. It
is not all Theology, neither may all subjective assimilation
of ectypic knowledge of God be appropriated by it. Among
the different assimilations of this knowledge of God, Theol
ogy as a science occupies a place of its own, which is defined
by its nature as an organic member in the unit of sciences.
And thus we come to this conception of Theology, viz. that it
is that science which has the revealed knowledge of God as
the object of its investigation, and raises it to " understand
ing." Or in broader terms, the science of Theology is that
logical action of the general subject of regenerated humanity
by which, in the light of the Holy Spirit, it takes up the
revealed knowledge of God into its consciousness and from
thence reflects it. If, on the other hand, the science of The
ology is not taken in its active sense, but as a product, then
Theology is the scientific insight of the regenerated human
consciousness into the revealed knowledge of God.

This conception diverges entirely from what the several
schools at present understand by Theology as a science ; and
this compels us, in defence of our definition, to investigate
first the several degenerations of Theology as knowledge of
Grod, and then the several falsifications of the conception
of Theology as science.

300 § 62. DEGENERATIONS OP' [Div. Ill

§ G'2. Degenerations of Theology as " Knoidedge of God"

The idea and significance of Theology has been corrupted
in two respects : on the one hand with reference to Theol
ogy as "knowledge of God,'' and on the other with reference
to Theology as "science." This section treats of the first
kind of degeneration, and the following of the falsification
of Theology as science.

With reference to the degeneration of Theology, taken in
the sense of "knowledge of God," we must begin with
Natural Theology (theologia naturalis), since only in view
of this natural knowledge of God can there be any question
of Theology with those who reject special revelation (reve-
latio specialis). It is common in our times to seek the tie
which unites the higher life of pagan nations to our own, in
religion. A general conception of religion is then placed in
the foreground. It is deemed that in this general sense
religion is present in almost all these nations. Affinity is
observed among their several religions, but also a gradual
difference. In all this it is thought that a process is percep
tible, and it is by means of this many-sided process that the
Christian religion is brought into relation to these lower
forms. We do not take this way, because religion and
knowledge of God are not the same, and it is in the latter
that Theology finds its only point of departure. Religion
can be interpreted as a sense, a service, or an obligation, but
in none of these is it identical with the "knowledge of God."
This is most strongly emphasized by the pious agnostic who
claims himself to be religious, and yet on principle excludes
all knowledge of God. The loss from sight of this specific
difference between religion and Theology accounts for the
fact, that even in the science of Theology religion has been
put in the place of its original object.

This compels us to seek the tie that binds us to pagan
nations, not in the phenomenal side of their religious life-
expressions, but, along with Scripture, in natural Theology ;
which at the same time offers this advantage, not to be
despised, that we need not confine ourselves to the national

CIIAI-. I] THEOLOGY AS "KNOWLEDGE OF GOD" 301

forms of ritual, but can also deal with the theology which,
outside of these rituals, can be observed in their mysteries
and in their poets and philosophers. It is well said, that
even the most repulsive idolatry stands in organic relation
to the purest revelation. There is a generic unity, which in
former times was too greatly lost from sight, and is still
overlooked too much, especially by Methodism ; overlooked
also in the work of missions. The purest confession of
truth finds ultimately its starting-point in the seed of re
ligion (semen religionis), which, thanks to common grace,
is still present in the fallen sinner ; and, on the other hand,
there is no form of idolatry so low, or so corrupted, but has
sprung from this same semen religionis. Without natural
Theology there is no Abba, Father, conceivable, any more than
a Moloch ritual. In so far, then, we agree in principle with
the present day Science of Religion (Religionswissenschaft).
On the other hand, we place ourselves in direct opposition to
it, as soon as it tries to fill in the interval between this Abba,
Father, and the Moloch ritual with the undulations of a grad
ually advancing process. There is here no transition nor
gradual development, but an antithesis between the positive
and negative working of a selfsame power. With natural
Theology it is the same as it is with faith and ethics. Ethi
cal life knows only one normal development, viz. that to
holiness; but over against this positive stands the negative
development along the line of sin. Sin is an " actual depri
vation," and not merely a want (carentia), and therefore it is
virtue turned into its opposite, and such by the negative work
ing of all the glorious power which by nature belongs to the
ethical life. Likewise unbelief, as shown above, is no want
of faith, but an actuosa privatio fidei, i.e. the power of faith
turned into its opposite. And in the same way idolatry
also is no outcome of the imagination, nor of factors in
the human consciousness that gradually develop themselves,
but of an actuosa privatio of the natural knowledge of God.
In the idolater both the motive and the content of this natu
ral theology are turned into their opposites. It is the same
wheel, turning itself on the same pivot, but in a reverse or

302 §62. DEGENERATIONS OF [Div. Ill

averse direction. The Christian Religion and Paganism do
not stand related to each other as the higher and lower
forms of development of the same thing ; but the Christian
religion is the highest form of development natural theology
was capable of along the positive line ; while all paganism
is a development of that selfsame natural theology in the
negative direction. Christendom and Paganism stand to
each other as the plus and minus forms of the same series.

From this it appears that natural theology is not taken
by us in that worn-out sense in which, at the close of the
seventeenth century, a barren scheme of individual truths
was framed, which was made to stand as natural theology
alongside of the supernatural. Natural theology is with
us no schema, but the knowledge of God itself, which
still remains in the sinner and is still within his reach,
entirely in harmony with the sense of Rom. i. 19 sq.
and Rom. ii. 14 sq. Sin, indeed, is an absolute dark
ening power, and were not its effect temporarily checked,
nothing but absolute darkness would have remained in and
about man ; but common grace has restrained its workings to
a very considerable degree ; also in order that the sinner
might be without excuse. In consequence of this common
grace there remain the rudera or sparks of light in the sinner,
and the curse upon nature has not yet come in such measure
but that " invisible things " are clearly seen, because under
stood by the things that are made (Rom. i. 20). Hence the
condition of man and his world are not such as they would
have been if sin had at once accomplished its end; but,
thanks to common grace, both are of such a character that
knowledge of God is still possible, either by way of tradi
tion, or as the result of personal insight, such as has been
found in generous measures in the midst of paganism, in its
mysteries as well as with its poets and philosophers. But,
and this is the point, instead of clinging fast to this, the
sinner in general has played a wilful game with this fruit
of common grace, and consequently his "foolish heart" has
become entirely "foolishness" and "darkness." And only
as result of this abuse which the sinner has made of natural

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY AS "KNOWLEDGE OF GOD" 303

theology, God at last has "given him over," as Paul reiterates
it three times in Rom. i. God has let go His hold upon
him ; and in consequence of this desertion of God the curse
of self-degradation and of brutishness has come upon pagan
ism, and now constitutes its real mark.

Hence two mistakes have here been made, and two errors
are to be guarded against. Our older theologians have too
greatly ignored paganism, and have explained it too ex
clusively from a demoniacal motive, and thereby have not
allowed the organic relation to show itself sufficiently,
which unmistakably exists between true and false theology,
as the normal and abnormal working of one and the same
impelling principle ; while, on the other hand, it is the
error of our times to abandon the antithesis of true and false,
to identify the two, and to prefer the form of the process of
development to this organic relation. If formerly they
failed per defectum, we now fail per excessum. And true
insight into the organic relation between true Theology and
Paganism is only obtained when the antithesis is fully rec
ognized between the positive and negative development of
common grace. There is here also an antithesis between
true and degenerate development, which the more they
progress, the farther they separate from each other, — an
antithesis which is in no single particular a lesser one than
that between good and evil, as both expressions of the one
ethical principle implanted in us all.

We do not deny that a process has taken place ; only this
process is twofold. As at the fork in the road where good and
evil separate a twofold process begins, of which one leads to
an ever richer revelation of that which is holy, and the other
to an ever sadder exhibition of that which is demoniacal in
sin, such also is here the case. From the times of Abraham
the lines of true and false theology separate. Not as
though this antithesis did not exist before; but because at
this point the two manifestations assume each an historic
form of its own. And from this point we have on the one
hand a development of true theology, which reaches poten
tially its acme in Christ, and on the other hand also a

304 §C± DEGENERATIONS OF [I)iv. Ill

deterioration of false theology, which in a negative sense
must likewise run its course to the end. In another
volume this will be more fully explained. Here we can
only locate the point of view where one must stand, in order
that the organic relation between our own confession and
that of Paganism may fully exhibit itself again, and at the
same time the danger be avoided of weakening the distinc
tion between these two to a relative difference.

To preclude the possible objection, that the theology of
Greek philosophy stands higher and approaches nearer to
the truth than the Animistic and Fetishistic forms of
paganism, we observe: first, that it should not be consid
ered proper to link the theological representations of a negro
tribe to those of a people so highly cultured as that which
gave being to Greek philosophy. The hypothesis that all
nations have begun Avith Animism, and have gradually
mounted the several rounds of the scale, is entirely unsup
ported. Our second observation is, that dissimilar magni
tudes cannot be compared, and hence the cultus-forms of
any people cannot be compared to the theological teach
ings (theologumena) of philosophers. For comparison the
cultus-forms of paganism must be contrasted with the practi
cal religion of these philosophers, and their theological teach
ings with the ideas concerning the infinite and its workings
which are fundamental to the cultus-forms of the nations
of lower standing, or of the Greeks. By which comparison
it appears at once that the philosophers had no cultus-forms,
and obtained them only when in Neo-Platonism, Gnosticism,
etc., they had adopted elements from the Christian religion.
This shows that Natural Theology operated in them more as
an intellectual power than as a devotional impulse, — a fact
which of itself leads to our third observation, viz. that
however high, from an intellectual point of view, the theo
logical teachings of Greek philosophy may stand, in the main
they exhibit a much stronger deterioration of the true
knowledge of God, inasmuch as they destroyed the feeling
of dependence, in place of which, in Stoicism, they substi
tuted human self-sufficiency. In the negro, who trembles as

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY AS "KNOWLEDGE OF GOD" 305

he kneels before his Fetish, there is more of the fear of God
than in the proud philosopher, who reasons about the gods
(or about TO delov) as about powers, of which he will deter
mine what they are. In the negro there is still a consider
able degree of vitality of the seed of religion, while in the
self-sufficient philosopher it is dead. He reasons; in how
ever imperfect a way, the negro worships.

As Christian Ethics not only deals with the positive
development of good, but reckons as well with the negative
development of evil, Christian theology also is not to con
fine itself to the study of true theology, but must also deal
with false theology in paganism; and this it must do not
merely for the sake of making obvious the monstrosity
of pagan representations, — this, indeed, would not be a
proper interpretation of its task, — but rather that it may
show that this paganism also is born of natural theology,
and discover the law which this false development has
obeyed. There is no single datum in idolatry, which is
inherent in it, but has sprung from natural theology. Of
course this does not underestimate the inworking of tradi
tion from paradise, nor the influence exerted by Israel.
When the antithesis between true and false theology is
sharply seen, the true must have preceded the false, and
idolatry can be nothing else than deterioration; which
implies of itself that, as with all deterioration, some
elements of the originally pure development still co
operate. And with reference to the inworking of special
revelation, it should not be lost from sight, that from the
days of Abraham, the people of revelation have ever been
in touch with the surrounding nations, and that extensive
journeys, for the sake of finding out what other nations
taught concerning Divine things, suited entirely the spirit
of the ancients. With this purpose in view the passes of
the Himalaya were crossed from China to the Ganges. Add
to this the great significance and calling of the empire of
Solomon, and the fact that the prophets appeared long be
fore the Greek philosophers, and it betrays little historical
sense, when a priori all effect of Israel upon paganism

306 § OS. FALSIFICATIONS OF [Div. Ill

and pagan philosophy is denied. But this after-effect of
tradition, as well as that possible in working of Israel, are
accidental. They are not inherent in the contrary process
of natural theology in its deterioration. Hence this pro
cess itself must be investigated, not for the sake of paying
homage to the theology of paganism as such, but to show
that the religious life of these pagan nations was founded
upon some theology, which as such was not invented, but
is the necessary result of the sinful development of natural
theology.

Islam occupies here a somewhat separate position. Just
as with Gnosticism and Manichaeism, wre here deal with a
unit of theological representations which has special revela
tion back of it, and partly included in it. This presents
three factors for our consideration. First, the contrary
development of natural theology, which here also forms
the pagan background. Secondly, the contrary devel
opment of supranatural theology, which had an entirely
peculiar career. And, thirdly, the syncretistic element,
which united these deteriorations into one. Islam is not
merely pagan, nor is it merely heretical, but both together,
and hence it occupies an entirely peculiar place among the
deteriorations of true theology, in which it now stands alone,
simply because Alanichreism, Gnosticism, etc., as religious
societies, have passed away. On the other hand, Islam, as
such, is allied to those theological representations that have
become current again, especially since the beginning of this
century, and which have embroidered the flowers of Christian
revelations upon the tapestry of a radically pagan philosophy.
With this difference, however, that these philosophic deteri
orations have not established religious communions, but have
invaded the Church of Christ.

§ 03. Falsifications of the Conception of Tlteolxj)/

The falsifications of Theology as science bear an entirely dif
ferent character. By these we do not refer to the heretical di
vergencies, such as Protestants assert of Romanism, and Rome
in turn ainrms of Protestantism. With everv heretical diver-

CHAP. I] THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 307

gence both sides occupy the same point of view as to natural
theology; from both sides it is confessed that their theology
is derived from special Revelation ; and the difference arises
only from the diverging views of this special Revelation. In
speculative and empiric theology, on the other hand, one is
met by a falsification, which, from principle, denies all
special Revelation, and thus in reality takes counsel with
natural theology. Both forfeit thereby the right to the
name of theology, because in this way speculative theology
really ends in Philosophy, and empiric theology disappears
in Naturalism. Natural Theology can exhibit itself as a
regnant power only when human nature receives the beams of
its light in their purity and reflects them equally completely.
At present, however, the glass has been impaired by a hun
dred cracks, and the receiving and reflecting have become
unequal, and the image that was to reflect itself is hindered
in its clear reflection and thereby rendered untrue. And
for this reason you cannot depend upon natural theology as
it works in fallen man; and its imperfect lines and forms
bring you, through the broken image, in touch with the reality
of the infinite, only when an accidens enables you to recover
this defective ideal for yourself, and natural theology re
ceives this accidens only in special revelation. Speculative
and empiric theology are correct, therefore, in their reaction
against methodistic superficiality, which actually annuls
natural theology, and accepts special revelation by faith
as something entirely independent by itself. While, on the
contrary, it is only by the natural knowledge of God, by
the semen religionis, that a special revelation is possible for
us, that our consciousness can unite itself to it, and that
certainty can be born of its reality in our sense. Yea, to
speak still stronger, we may say that special theology is
merely temporal, and natural theology eternal. This is not
stated more boldly than the Scriptures justify, when they
explain the mutual relation between the special priest
hood of the Aaronic ceremonial and the natural priesthood
of Melchizedek. Melchizedek appears as one standing en
tirely outside of the special revelation; he is a priest-king,

308 §00. FALSIFICATIONS OF [Dir. Ill

who has natural theology only, together with a weakened
tradition of the once blessed paradise. Aaron, therefore, on
whom shone the full light of special revelation, stands far
above him in knowledge of God, in loftiness of religion, and
in purity of priestly ritual. With a little less thought one
would have been tempted to place Aaron's priesthood far
above that of Melchizedek, in order to find the ideal high-
priesthood of Christ in Aaron, and not in the order of
Melchizedek. And yet revelation, in both Old and New
Testaments, teaches the very contrary. Aaron's ceremonial
bears merely a temporal character ; Melchizedek's office is
eternal; and Aaron disappears in Christ, in order that in
Christ Melchizedek may reappear. Thus Aaron's service
merely fulfilled the vocation of rendering the service of
Melchizedek possible again, and enabling it to resume its
original significance. And this is the point of view which
dominates also the relation between " natural theology " and
"particular grace." Undoubtedly the content of special reve
lation is much richer than the meagre content which natu
ral theology now offers fallen man ; and it is also evident
that without its accidens in special revelation this natural
theology is no help to you whatever. Aaron's service was
much richer than that of Melchizedek, and without the
Aaronic ordination Melchizedek's offering missed every aton
ing merit. But this does not take away the fact, that
natural theology always remains the originally real one, and
that special revelation can never be anything else than acci
dental. Hence, when it comes to a state of purity, when sin
shall have been eradicated so that its very memory shall no
longer work its after-effects in the creation of God, then all
the riches of special revelation shall merely have served the
end of bringing natural theology back again to its original
lustre, yea, of causing it to glow with a brightness which
far excels its original lustre. In the prophetic domain of the
knowledge of God, also, Aaron disappears, and Melchizedek
returns with all the glory of the original creation. This is
the deep significance of the oath sworn by the Lord in Psalm
ex., concerning the priest after the order of Melchizedek.

CHAP. I] THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 309

Jesus Himself spoke of a future in which His disciples would
no more ask Him anything, because the Father Himself loved
them. And in the perspective of 1 Cor. xv., when God
shall be "all in all," the entire special revelation has receded;
the object for which it was given has been obtained; and with
reference also to the knowledge of God, the " all in all "
expresses nothing else than what once existed in paradise.
Though this deeper truth was not recognized by Schleier-
macher, the spiritual father of subjective empiricism, and
by Hegel, the master thinker, who founded the school of
recent speculative theology, they perceived it, nevertheless,
sufficiently clearly to vindicate the primordial authority of
natural theology. Calvin saw deeper than both, when he
compared ectypal theology, as thanks to common grace it
still exists in and for the sinner, to a book the writing of
which had become blurred, so that it could only be deci
phered with a glass, i.e. with the help of special revelation.
In this figure the thought lies expressed, that the theology
which reflects itself as such in our nature, is ever the real
theology, which, however, must be augmented and be ex
plained, and which without this assistance remains illegible ;
but which, even during and after this help, always remains
the true divine writing. So also it is foretold in prophecy,
when Jeremiah declared that there was a time coming in
which the outward special revelation would be ended, and
every one would bear again in his heart the divine writing,
and all should know the Lord from the least unto the oldest.
This, too, is only the representation that the outward special
revelation merely serves for a time, and that it has no other
tendency than to lift natural theology from its degeneracy.
Natural theology is and always will be the natural pair of
legs on which we must walk, while special revelation is the
pair of crutches, which render help, as long as the weakened
or broken legs refuse us their service. This indeed can be
frankly acknowledged, even though it is certain, that as long
as our legs cannot carry us we can only walk by means of
the crutches, so that during this abnormal condition our legs
do not enable us to walk truly in the ways of the Lord,

310 § 03. FALSIFICATIONS OF [Div. Ill

but only our crutches, i.e. not natural theology, hut only
special revelation. This last point has been less denied
than entirely abolished by Schleiermacher, as well as by
Hegel, and in so far we deny that the subjective-empiric
and the speculative schools, which they called into life, are
able to offer us any real and actual theology. But this does
not destroy the fact that the motive which impelled them con
tained an inward truth. After the Reformation orthodoxy
withdrew itself all too quickly from general human life. It
became too greatly an isolated phenomenon, which, however
beautiful in itself, was too much disconnected ; and when it
undertook to distil a kind of compendium from the so-called
natural theology, and in all its poverty to place this by the
side of the rich display of special revelation, it belittled this
natural theology to such an extent, that rationalism could not
fail of its opportunity to show itself and to administer reproof;
while orthodoxy, removed from its basis, was bound to turn
into inwardly thin supranaturalism with its external sup
ports. Thus there was no longer a scientific theology worthy
of the name. All that remained was, on the one hand, a mysti
cism without clearness, and on the other hand a barren frame
work of propositions and facts, without the glow of life or
of reality. This was observed with great sharpness of
vision by Schleiermacher, as well as by Hegel, and both
endeavored to find again, in the reality of life, a £09 poi TTOV
ara) (starting-point) for religion, and thus also for theology.
They did this each in his own way : Schleiermacher by
withdrawing himself into human nature, as religious and
social in character ; and Hegel, on the other hand, by ex
tending the world of human thought so broadly, that theol
ogy also found a place in it. From subjectivity, i.e. from
mysticism, Schleiermacher came to theological thought, Hegel,
from the thought of man, hence from intellectualism, to re
ligion. Thus together they grasped natural reality by the
two handles which this reality presents for religion. Natu
ral theology includes two elements: first, ectypal knowledge
of (iod as founded in the human consciousness, and secondly,
the pistic capacity of man to grasp this ectypal knowledge

CHAP. I] THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 311

with his inner consciousness. Hegel made the ectypal
knowledge of God to appear in the foreground of human
consciousness ; Schleiermacher, on the other hand, started
out from the pistic capacity increated in the inner nature
of man. Hence it is not surprising in the least, that both
formed a school of their own, and that only by their initia
tive theology revived again as a science. They indeed
abandoned the isolation to which theology had fled. Each
in his way restored religion and theology to a proper place
of honor in human life and in the world of thought. By
their work the " unheimisch " feeling of confusion in the
face of reality was taken away from the theologian ; he had
again a standing. The thirst after reality could again be
quenched. And that even orthodox theologians, whose
earnest effort it was to maintain by far the greater part of
the content of special revelation, sought refuge in the two
schools need not surprise us, for the reason that the strength
of each lay not so much in their positive data, as in their
formal view, which to a certain extent was also adapted, if
needs be, to cover an orthodox cargo. With respect to this
formal part, Schleiermacher and Hegel even supplemented
each other. If in Schleiermacher's subjective school the
ology was threatened to be sacrificed to religion, and in
Hegel's speculative tendency to be glorified as the sole
substance of religion, it was evident that those who were
more seriously minded foresaw the future of theology in the
synthesis of both elements. There were two sides to natu
ral theology, and only in the combination of Schleiermacher
and Hegel could natural theology again obtain a hearing in
its entirety.

But this whole effort has ended in nothing but bitter dis
appointment. Not, as already said, as though in these two
schools men began at once to cast the content of the special
revelation overboard. On the contrary, Schleiermacher and
Hegel both did not rest content with the meagre data of

O O

natural theology, but made it a point of honor to demand
the exalted view-point of the Christian religion for its own
sake, and, so far as they were able, to vindicate it. What

312 §63. FALSIFICATIONS OF [Div. Ill

good was this, however, when they were bent on explaining,

at any cost, this ideal view-point of the Christian religion
from the normal data? They no doubt acknowledged the
considerable interval between this ideal religion and the
imperfect religions expression outside of the Christian do
main, but they refused to attribute this to the supernatural,
and thus to what seemed to them the abnormal action of
the living God. The interval between the highest and
the lowest was not to be taken any longer as an antithesis,
but was to be changed into a process, by which gradually
the highest sprang from the lowest. Thus each in his way
found the magic formula of the process. From Theism they
glided off into Pantheism. For thus only was it possible to
maintain the high honor of the Christian religion, and at,
the same time to place this exalted religion in organic rela
tion to the reality of our human existence. And this was
the thing that avenged itself. For from the meagre data
of natural theology they were not able to operate along
straight lines, and thus even these fundamental data were
falsified. This became especially apparent in the school of
Hegel, when in their way his younger followers tried to
systematize religion, and soon rendered it evident that,
instead of vindication, the result, which in this school they
reached by strict consequence, was the entire undermining
of historic Christianity and of all positive religious data.
What Hegel thought he had found was not religion, bin
philosophic theology, and this theology was no true "knowl
edge of God," but a general human sense, in which the im
manent Spirit (der immanente Geist) gradually received
knowledge of himself. This did not iind archetypal knowl
edge in God, but in man, and ectypal knowledge in the
incomprehensible God. Hence it was the perversion of all
Theology, and the inversion of the conception of religion
itself, and both dissolved in a philosophic system.

Though at first the subjective-empiric school of Schleier-
macher appeared less dangerous, and though it did not
h-ad to those repulsive consequences in which the young
Hegelians lost themselves, yet even this did not escape its

CHAP. I] THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 813

Nemesis, and with fatal necessity tends more and more to
Naturalism. It did not come to religion from the sphere of
thought, but sought its connecting point in human nature.
Man, not as individual, but taken as an integral part of the
organism of humanity, presented himself as a subject with
certain emotions and perceptions, and bearing a religious char
acter; from these perceptions and emotions, by virtue of the
"social instinct" (Sociale Trieb), which is peculiar to man
as an organic being, sprang a certain desire after religious
communion (Verein); and since man inclines to take up his
emotions and perceptions into his consciousness, there was
gradually born of this selfsame subjective mysticism a
world of religious representations. Only with these ethical
premises at his disposal, does Schleiermacher come to the
phenomenon of the Christian Church, which, both by way of
comparison and in principle, seems to satisfy the highest
aspirations these premises inspire. Faithful to his natural
istic interpretation he concedes that it is the vocation of the
Church to remain the leader of this ethic-social process in
humanity. This requires elucidation of insight. And so
he arrives at an interpretation of theology which is nothing
but an aggregate of disparate sciences, which find their bond
of union ad hoc in the phenomenon of the Church.

We readily grant that Schleiermacher did not mean this
naturalistically. His purpose was to save the ideal life
of humanity. But we maintain, that this whole inter
pretation sprang from the naturalistic root, and is chargeable
with the naturalistic tendency, which became more strongly
evident in his followers. Of the three data which he deals
with, — human nature, God and thought, — he takes human
nature alone to be autonomic. All that he teaches of God,
is not merely bound in its form of expression to the data of
our nature, but the content also is the mere reflection of
subjective perceptions ; man is and remains the subject, that
is, thinks and speaks, and in his presence God obtains
no autonomic position. The reality even of the existence
of God appears to the very end to be dependent upon the
reality which vindicates itself in the subject man. The

314 §03. FALSIFICATIONS OF [Div. Ill

same is true with reference to the factor of thought. With
Schleiermacher, thought is the result of being, not in the
absolute sense, but of being in man and of that which
springs from this being of man. Actually, therefore,
human nature alone and its phenomena are real for Schleier
macher; from this nature only you come to God as to its
projection; and thought exercises so little independent
power, that the unconscious senses, feelings and perceptions
not only govern our entire thought, but even repress it,
and already prepare the primacy of the will of later date.
With this, however, Schleiermacher as a theologian had
passed the handle entirely out of his hands. It is self-
evident, that the autonomic study of human nature held the
mastery also over the future of theology. If that physio
logical and psychological study should lead to materialistic
results, the whole of Schleiermacher's religion would fall
away. Or, where the result was less disappointing, yet so far
as the method is concerned, the physiological factor was bound
to dominate entirely the psychological factor, and this would
also include everything that relates to religion under the
power of the naturalistic view. In this wise the Christian
religion was bound to be reduced to the product of all pre
ceding religious development; that preceding religious de
velopment could at length be nothing more than the necessary
development of a psychological peculiarity; that psycho
logical peculiarity, in turn, must be the result of the fun
damental data in our human nature; that human nature
could be nothing else than the product of the unbroken
development of organic nature; that organic nature could
not differ essentially from the inorganic nature; so that
finally, everything that is high and holy in the Christian
domain has been brought under the power of the evolution
theory, and the theologian has to be informed by the
naturalist where to look for the origin of the object of his
sciiMice.

Thus, in both schools, everything that had so far been
known by the name of theology was in principle destroyed.
There were no longer two, (jod and man, the former of whom

CHAP. I] THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 315

has imparted knowledge of Himself to the latter; there
was, in fact, nothing else but man, in whom alone, according
to the speculative school, "the Ever-Immanent Spirit" (der
ewigimmanente Geist) came to consciousness of himself; and
who according to the subjective-empiric school, experienced
subjective perceptions, from which he formed for himself sub
jective representations of a religious character. Neither in
one school nor in the other was there any more question of an
extrahuman God, nor room for a theology which should be
able to introduce actual knowledge of that God into the
general human consciousness. The abandonment of the name
Theology, and the substitution in its room of the name of
Science of Religion, was nothing but the honest consequence of
the fundamentally atheistic point of view which was held.
Is atheistic too strong a word in this connection ? It is, when
by atheism we understand the denial of the spirit and
perceptions of the infinite ; but not, when we interpret it
as the refusal longer to recognize the living God, who has
made Himself known to us as God. Though both schools
held to the name of God, they both afterward denied that
we have the right to reckon with the reality of the living
God, as a personal, self-conscious Being, who from that
self-consciousness reveals Himself to us. And from that
time on, the object that engaged the investigator in this
domain was no longer the reality God, but religion. With
reference to the eternal Being everything had become prob
lematic; the religious phenomenon was the only certain
thing. There revealed itself in human nature and in his
tory a mighty factor, which was known by the name of reli
gion. It was possible to trace and to study the historic and
ethnologic development of this factor; psychologically, also,
an explanation of this religious phenomenon could be sought ;
and in this perhaps at length sufficient ground could be
found to assume a general agent as cause of this phenome
non; but no venture could be made outside of this phe
nomenal circle. The vovpevov remained problematic.

That nevertheless most students shrank from the imme
diate adoption of this radical transition, had a threefold

olti §0:1 FALSIFICATIONS (>F [Div. 11!

cause, — the historic form of our theological faculties, the
existence of the Christum Church, and the exalted character
of the Christian religion. By far the larger number of
theologians of name do not reach their destination except in
the theological faculty. That faculty, as an historic institute,
is bound to the theological name, and more particularly still to
Christian Theology. The revolution which has taken place
on theologic ground must of necessity either modernize these
faculties entirely, or perhaps occasion their disappearance,
and the transfer of their chairs to other faculties. But this is
not done at once. Every academic institute is conservative.
And since one cannot Avait for this, and meanwhile is not
willing to abandon the influence of the chair, one adapts
himself to the inevitable, and continues to call himself a
theologian, and to speak of theological study, even though
in the main he has broken with theology, in the historically
valid sense of the word. The second reason, why the name of
theology has been maintained, lies in the Christian Church.
For her sake the Ministers of the Word must be educated.
If it were not for her, there would be no question after
pupils for this faculty. Dilettant theologians are becom
ing ever more scarce. And thus one had still to adapt
himself to practical needs in these departments. From a
scientific point of view the study of other religions might
promise richer harvests ; but almost no one would frequent
the lecture-rooms where exegetical readings were given from
the holy books of other religions. And thus the scientific
standard had to be abandoned, and for the sake of practical
needs the old theological tracks are still continued. This is
indeed an unenviable position, in which self-respect is re
gained in part only by the consideration of the third cause
mentioned above, that is, the relative excellency of the Chris
tian religion. Even when, after the fashion of botanists, "we
treat religion as a flora of poorer and richer types, it is but
natural that fuller study should be devoted to the religious
plant of higher development; and, as such, homage is paid
to the Christian religion. Not generally any longer as the
highest, for Buddhism, and even Islam, are placed by its side;

CHAP. IJ THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 317

and much less as the highest conceivable, for in ethics Christ
is thought to be far excelled, and it is maintained that further
development is not at all impossible. But in general the
Christian religion still counts as one of the higher develop
ments ; especially as that development, which is of greatest
interest to us historically, and which, so far as the lower
classes of people are concerned, is even yet the only one that
claims our general notice. And thus it comes to pass, that
this faculty is still called theological, and is still regulated
with a view to the training of Ministers of the Word for
the Christian Church, and, though the other religions are
reviewed, the Christian religion is still the main study pur
sued. This is done, in antagonism with principle, for the
sake of secondary considerations; and it is for this reason
that the ancient name of Theology is still borne, though
now as a misnomer, and that the only fitting name for what
is really meant, that of "science of Religion" (Religionwis-
senschaft), remains still banished from the official curricu
lum.

In order to restore harmony to a certain extent between
name and matter, it has been tried in more or less conserva
tive circles, to define Theology as " the science of the Chris
tian religion"; which, however much better it may sound
than Schleiermacher's prudish and unnatural definition, is
nevertheless equally unable to stand the test of criticism.
Is there likewise a science of English history ? Of French
philosophy? Of Greek art? Of course not. The science
of history devotes a chapter to England's national past; the
history of philosophy devotes a separate investigation to that
Avhich has been pondered and reflected upon by French
thinkers; and the history of aesthetics engages itself espe
cially with Greek art ; but no one will undertake to represent
these parts of a broader object as a proper object for an
independent science. Hence, in the religious domain also,
there is no separate science of Parseeism, of Buddhism, of
Israelitism, of Christianity, or of Islam. He who takes one
of these phenomena as such as object of investigation, may
not take it outside of its relation to correlated phenomena,

318 §03. FALSIFICATIONS OF [Div. Ill

and can take no stand except in a science which embraces
these correlated phenomena as a whole. It is unscientific,
therefore, to speak of a "science of the Christian religion/'
If I confess a Revelation, which has no correlates and which
is a phenomenon of an entirely singular kind, it may well
be the object of an independent science. But if one views
the Christian religion as one of several religions, even
though it is comparatively the highest of all religious
developments known to us, he is as unable to create an
independent science of the Christian religion as the botan
ist is to speak of a special science of the cedar. If, on the
other hand, with other more or less orthodox theologians,
we assert that the Christian religion is distinguished from
all other religious phenomena by a special specific revela
tion, its distinguishing element is not in the religion, but
in the revelation of Christianity, and hence this revelation
must be the object of this science.

This was felt by Hodge, the champion of scientific
orthodox}- in America, and therefore he tried to escape from
the dilemma by choosing the facts of the Bible as the object
of his theology. His intention was good, for in the main
he was correct in saying that the Holy Scriptures offer us
no scientific theology, but contain the facts and truth**
"which theology has to collect, authenticate, arrange and
exhibit in their internal relation to each other " (8yst.
Theology, I., p. 1). And yet we may not rest content even
with Hodge's definition. For in this way the conception of
"ectypal Theology" is lost, and from all sorts of facts we
are to conclude what must follow from them with respect to
the Being of God. His combination of "facts and truths"
overthrows his own system. He declares that the theologian
must authenticate these truths. But then, of course, they
are no truths, and only become such, when I authenticate
them. His idea was, of course, to save theology as a positive
science, and to do this in a better way than they who took
the "Christian religion" as the given olji'ct; but it can
scarcely be denied that he succumbed to the temptation of
placing Theology formally in a line with the other sciences.

CHAP. IJ THE CONCEPTION OF THEOLOGY 319

All the other sciences have the data of nature and of history
for their object, and Theology, in like manner, has the data
of this supernatural history. There were two spheres, two
worlds, which have become object of a proper science each.
That the distinction between God as creator and all the rest
as His creature draws the deep boundary-line between the
ology and all other science, could not be established in this
way. The authentication of his "facts" brought him logi
cally back again under the power of naturalistic science.
And though as a man of faith he bravely resisted this, his
demonstration lacked logical necessity.

Our result is that, though still called by the name of
theology, the entire subsequent development of theological
study has actually substituted an utterly different object,
has cut the historic tie that binds it to original theology,
and has accomplished little else than the union of the sub
divisions of psychology and of historic ethnology into a new
department of science, which does not lead to the knowledge
of God, but aims at the knowledge of religion as a phe
nomenon in the life of humanity. Along this way also the
return was made to natural theology, and whatever was
still valid as " Christian revelation " was cited to legiti
matize itself before the tribunal of natural theology. The
harmony between the results of these modern investigations,
and those derived in former ages from natural theology in
India and elsewhere, could therefore arouse no surprise in
the least. This only should be added, that the exchange of
iheologia naturalis for religio naturalis accounts for the loss
with us of what the Vedanta still maintains, viz. the divine
reality, which corresponds to the impressions and percep
tions of the religiously disposed mind.

§ 64. Deformations of Theology

If the effort to obtain Divine knowledge from natural
theology, without the help of special revelation, was bound,
after the fall, to effect the entire deterioration of the knowl
edge of God ; and if, on the other hand, the effort to substi
tute religion as object of investigation for the "knowledge of

§ 64. DEFORMATION'S OK THEOLOGY [l;iv. iil

God'' was bound to falsify the conception of theology; the
evil worked within the theological domain by what we call
its deformations, the results of schism and heresy, is of an
entirely different character. The difference is still clearly
evident between what is called Protestant, Romish and
Greek or Eastern Theology; and though on Protestant
ground the antithesis between the Lutheran and Reformed
type of doctrine is less significant than before, it is self-
deception to suppose that it has become extinct; while,
on the other hand also, the variegations of the mystic-
apocalyptic and the pietistic-methodistic mode of teaching
still maintain themselves in ever wider Protestant circles.
The illusion that the former confessional differences have
had their day, in order gradually to make room for a general
Protestant sense, scarcely held itself intact for a quarter of
a century. It was evident all too soon, that this indiffer
ence to confessional standards sprang from an unhistoric ten
dency and was fed by an exceedingly serious hypertrophy of
the philosophic element. Almost everywhere, therefore, we
see the revival of confessional standards in theology, the
moment it escapes from the arms of philosophy, and, for the
sake of defending its position, is bent upon the recovery of
its independence. This, however, makes it necessary, just
as our fathers did before us, to deal with the deformations
of Theology.

This conception of deformation excludes, on our side, two
untenable points of view: first, the sceptical, which attributes
no higher worth to Protestant Theology than to the Romish
or Eastern, and evermore tends to place these in a line; and
secondly, the absolute, which counts out every other theology
but its own as worthless, and frankly declares them to have
originated with the Evil One.

The sceptical point of view falls short in faith, decision
and coin-age of conviction. Mere, in reality, one takes truth
as something that lies beyond human reach; hence one's own
confession also is valued no higher than as an effort to express
truth, which from the nature of the case has met with ill suc
cess. One feels his way in the dark, and hence must readily

CIIAI-. I] §64. DEFORMATIONS OF THEOLOGY 321

concede others the right of doing the same. Their confes
sion and yours contain equally little or much of worth, just as
you please. They are variations of the same theme. Each
of these variations enrich and complement, and you stand
personally higher, just in proportion as being less narrow in
the attachment to your own confession, you have an open eye
and ear to rejoice in all expressions of life. This is not
meant to be taken eclectically, for since you have no favorite
flower, you gather no bouquet from the several confessions,
but simply walk among the several flower-beds to enjoy what
ever is beautiful in this confessional garden. All this lacks
seriousness of purpose. From this view-point every form of
confession becomes an article of luxury. Confessional life
aims no longer at truth, but serves as a kind of poetry.
In the life of his emotions one experiences certain pious per
ceptions ; one also seeks a certain mystical communion with
the hidden world of the infinite ; and in so far as one accepts
the reality of that world, he is seriously minded ; but he has
no faith in what he himself expresses or in what he hears
others say concerning it. It does not become us, it is said,
to do anything but stammer. No significance, therefore,
should be attached to the sounds, forms, or words which we
speak, as though these expressed the higher reality. At most
these sounds have the worth of a musical character. They
give utterance to our better feelings, and presently aid to
revive them again. But for this very reason, the song
which another sings from his heart is equally beautiful.
There is no more truth to be confessed. All that remains
is a pious, aesthetic enjoyment of what has been stammered
by man in all manner of ways concerning the truth. A
Calvinistic prayer, which drinks in encouragement for higher
life from the fountain of eternal election, impresses, from this
point of view, equally strongly as the Ave verum corpus of
the Romish worshipper, as he kneels before the uplifted
host.

This sceptical point of view, therefore, should not be
confounded with the mystical antithesis, which opposes all
dogma, all confessions and also all special revelation. This

322 §04. DEFORMATIONS OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

mystic antithesis springs from tlie tendency to let being
triumph over consciousness, and, while it apparently an
tagonizes barren intellectualisra, in reality it opposes every
modification which by virtue of religion must be brought
about in our world of thought. It is said that our so-called
modern ethical tendency sets no store by conceptions ; but
from the nature of the case this is not so. No one can cfet

along without thought; without a life with consciousness no
human life is conceivable; every one goes out from certain
general conceptions ; and, voluntarily or otherwise, in those
who live in higher spheres those general conceptions form a
system, i.e. they stand in a certain relation to each other.
As an actual fact, therefore, the conflict against "barren
intellectualisra " banishes all influence of revelation or even
of religion from the development of our world of thought ;
while eventually the world of thought, which from natural
reason has become common property, is permitted to assert it
self as unassailable and self-evident. With these men it is
ever the old conflict between the primacy of the consciousness
and of the will, while our entire higher life is subsumed by
them under the will. With the deformations of theology,
however, we need not take this into account; since all such
efforts end in an entire falsification of the conception of
theology, and as such belong to our former paragraph.
The sceptics, on the other hand, whom we here speak of,
occupy the selfsame view-point with us of special revela
tion; with us they feel the need of holding dogma in honor,
and re.idily agree that no church can get along without con
fessional standards; only, to all these confessions together
they attribute nothing but a relative value. The truth is
not contained in one confession, nor in all the confessions
taken together; to push propaganda, therefore, of one con
fession above another is entirely void of motive. Going
from one church to another, except for the sake of marriage
or of national interests, has no significance. And the poor
martyrs who faced death for the sake of their convictions,
died like naive victims of a confessional mistake.

If thus in this confessional scepticism the energy of con-

CHAP. I] § 64. DEFORMATIONS OF THEOLOGY 323

viction is wanting, the confessional absolutists, on the other
hand, sin through the excess of conviction, when they anathe
matize everything that falls outside of their own confession.
This ground was not held by the Reformers and the learned
divines who theologically expounded the confession of the
Reformers. Even Calvin is clearly conscious that he builds
on the theology of Augustine and Thomas Aquinas ; and he
who reads the original Lutheran and Reformed dogmatists,
perceives at once that they make constant use of what has
been contributed by Romish theologians. But in the sub
sequent period this usage has become extinct. Every church
withdraws itself within its own walls; and finally it seems
that there is no theology for the dogmatist, but that which
rests upon his own confession. Hence, not only in the case of
every antithesis, is one equally firm in cleaving to his own
conviction, and in rejecting whatever opposes it; but also
every suggestion is banished that, at least in that which is
not antithetic, some theologic depth, development and truth
may lodge with the opponent. The Romish theologians
cany this confessional absolutism to the farthest extreme.
With the Lutheran theologians this absolutism is quickly
carried into practice, even at the expense of Reformed
theology. The Reformed theologians alone have longest
reacted against this confessional absolutism. If the confes
sional sceptic knows little besides irenics, and if in his eyes
all controversy is folly, the absolutist, on the other hand, is
averse to all irenics, and controvers}r or polemics is his only
point of contact with the confessions of the other churches,
which he considers simply false.

But it is readily seen that neither this sceptical nor this
absolutist point of view is in harmony with the claim of
theology. Not the sceptical, for if theology is " the knowl
edge of God," and if, consequently, theology as a science
can have no other object than to introduce that revealed
knowledge of God as clearly as possible into our human
consciousness, personal conviction must ever be the starting-
point of all theology. Taken generically, theology is, and
always will be, knoivledye, and for this reason there can be no

$04. DKKOMMATIONS OK THKOIJHiY [Div. Ill

theology where the conviction that one /niotcx is wanting.
Confessional indifferentism is in irreconcilable conflict with
this, for many things may lie in the farthest circumference
of each one's conviction which are not attached to his
personal consciousness; but these do not belong to our con
fession. But that which one confesses, one must mean; of
this we must be certain; if necessary, the greatest sacrifice
must be made for this ; if needs be, the sacrifice of life. That
now this confessional conviction in the Lutheran Church is
different from that in the Eastern, and in the Reformed than
in the Church of Rome, certainly does not depend upon our
personal preference. This difference is connected, rather,
with our position in life and genealogy. Xo objection should
ever be raised on that account, however, against the reality
of our conviction, since the entire world of our representa
tions, those of the non-religious kind also, are determined
by the circle from which we spring and the age in which
Ave live; the Pelagian only may encounter some ditViculty
here, because he does not believe in a divine plan, which
determines our whole position; but, for the rest, no con
viction ever strikes deeper root than when it has been
prepared atavistically in us. lie, therefore, who has in this
way obtained his conviction as one with his life, does not
ascribe its possession to his own excellencies, but renders
thanks for it to the grace of God. A true theologian, there
fore, will and must hold for real and true the theology
which he embraces, and to the further development of which
he devotes his life, and should not hesitate to consider all
other theology to be deformation. A Lutheran theologian,
who is not firmly convinced of the truth of his own confes
sion and who has no courage to denounce all theology which
is opposed to it as deformation, has lost his wny. The same
is true of the Romish theologian. And we as Reformed
theologians stand equally firm in our unshakable conviction
that the track, along which we move, runs the most accu
rately, and that every other track leads to lesser or greater
deformation.

I>ut though from his own point of view no single theolo-

CHAP. 1] § 64. DEFORMATIONS OF THEOLOGY 325

gian should shrink from this qualification of deformation,
this conception of deformation contains, on the other hand,
an element of appreciation, and therefore a sentence against
confessional absolutism. Deformation passes judgment on the
imperfection of the form, but honors the essence. Whether
this deformation is the outcome of schism, and consequent
onesidedness, by the contraction of the energy of truth at one
single point; or whether it has found its origin in heresy, i.e.
in the adoption into one's confession of elements that are
foreign to the truth, can make no difference. In either case
you acknowledge that there is a "knowledge of God," and
that that which calls itself theology is truly possessed of the
theologic character. It is still commonly accepted in the con
fessions that there is an ectypal knowledge of God, that in
the natural way this cannot lead the sinner to saving results,
and that there is a special revelation to supply this want.
The canonical books also of the Old and New Testaments
are honored by all these churches together as the Divine
documentation of this revelation. Difference only begins
with the addition to these Scriptures of the apocrypha, of
tradition, of papal inspiration, of the mystic inspiration by
the internal light (lumen internum), etc. Thus from either
side we are abundantly able to show how the deformation
originated with the other; and this is the point of attack;
yet this does not destroy what is common in all confessions
and theologies.

And if this opens the way to the appreciation and use
of what has been prepared also by theologians of other con
fessions, in what is common to us all, it leads at the same
time to still another consideration. Even Rome does not
deny that charismata are also at work outside of her church ;
and where in this way even Rome maintains a unity, our
Protestant principle includes the open recognition of the
correlation of the other churches with ours. No single con
fessional group claims to be all the church. We rather
confess that the unity of the body of Christ extends
far beyond our confessional boundaries. The theological
gifts that operate outside of our circle may supply what

32»3 §04. DEFORMATIONS OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

we lack, ami self-sufficient narrow-mindedness alone will
refuse such benefit. With us irenics go ever hand in hand
with polemics. Firmly and unshakably we stand in our
confession, that the track along which we move is the most
accurate known to us, and in virtue of this conviction we
do not hesitate a moment to mark the divergence of the
tracks of others as deformation. Against all such deformity
we direct our polemics. But we are equally conscious of
the fact that tee alone do not constitute the Church of
Christ in the earth; that there is a conviction of truth
which operates also outside of our circle; and that in de
spite of all such deformation divine gifts continue to foster
a theologic life worthy of the name. Hence our irenics.

To us, therefore, there is no theology as such, which,
exalting itself above all special theologies, is the theology
in the absolute sense. Such a theology would effect at once
a new confession and call into life a new church organi
zation; simply because one can hold no different conviction
as theologian than as church member. But this would

reverse the order of things. The Church does not spring
from theology, but theology has its rise in the life of the
Church. And if the objection is raised, that in this way
theology is robbed of its character of universal validity and
thus becomes unscientific, we answer: (1) that for universal
validity the acceptance of all individuals is not demanded.
but only of those who are receptive to the truth of a matter
and are well informed of it; (2) that every convinced theo
logian in the presence of his opponent also appeals from the
mind that lias been ill-informed (male informatum) to the
mind that is to be better informed (melius informandum).
The fact that unity of conviction, which is fairly common
with the material sciences and rare with the spiritual
sciences, is altogether wanting with the highest, viz. theol
ogy, is no pica against theology, since it merely shows that,
as it touches that which is most tender, it of necessity stands
highest, and consequently has most to endure from the
ruin worked by sin in our spiritual life.

On this ground we maintain the confessional character of

CHAP. I] § 65. EELATION OF THEOLOGY TO ITS OBJECT 327

theology, since otherwise either the unity of our theological
thinking is lost, or the integrity of our theological convic
tion. To us who are members of the Reformed Churches
the more exactly defined object of theology is, the knowl
edge of God, as given in the Reformed or purified confession.

§ 65. The Relation of Theology to its Object

Thus far the course of thought has run smoothly. Knowl
edge of God is the crown of all that can be known. Knowledge
of God is inconceivable, except it is imparted to us by God
Himself. This knowledge, given us by nature in our crea
tion, has been veiled from and darkened in us by the results
of sin. Consequently it now comes to us in the form of a
special revelation, and we have received the divine illumina
tion, by which we can assimilate the content of that revela
tion. And science is called in, to introduce this knowledge
of God, thus revealed, into our human thought. Just here,
however, a very serious misinterpretation is possible, which
must needs be prevented. It can be represented that it is
only science that places the revealed knowledge of God
within the reach of the pious. In which case it is science
that investigates the special revelation; the results of this in
vestigation are gradually more fully established ; that which
is established is brought to the knowledge of all ; and thus
the knowledge of God is made universal. This entirely
intellectualistic way excludes, meanwhile, the spiritual ex
perience of the Church in its entirety, as well as of indi
vidual believers. Taken in this way, scientifically theolog
ical study must have preceded all faith, and the knowledge of
God would only have come within our reach after theology
had as good as finished its task. This, however, is incon
ceivable, since theology is born of the Church, and not the
Church of theology. Reflection does not create life, but
suo jure life is first, after which reflection speaks its word
concerning it. And thus spiritual life became manifest
in the Church of Christ, and as the result of Revelation
practical spiritual knowledge of God had been the rich pos
session of thousands upon thousands, long before the idea of

328 §65. THE KRLATION OF [Div. Ill

a scientific theology was suggested. It cannot even be said
that scientific theology presented the forms of thought
which led to the formulations of dogma. Those formula
tions were much more the product of the conflict for truth
which took place in the life of the Church, and therefore
they have borne much more an ecclesiastical than a scientific
character. The knowledge of God, held by the Church, did
not remain naively mystical, until science analyzed this
mysticism. But sharp and clear thinking was done in the
Church as such, long before the science of theology as such
had won a place for itself. The Church has not lived uncon
sciously, but consciously, and so far as the personal life of
believers is concerned, no urgency for a closer scientific
explanation has ever been observed.

Much less can it be said that scientific theology is called
to add more certainty to the confession of the Church and lo
demonstrate its truth. The desire to have theology perform
this service, so entirely foreign to it, has not originated in
times of spiritual prosperity and healthful activity of faith,
but was always the bitter fruit of the weakening of faith, and
consequently was ever incapable of checking the decline of
the life of the Church. The Church that has leaned on the
ology, instead of presenting its arm to theology for its support,
has always lost the remnant of higher courage which re
minded it of better days, and has always degraded itself to a
dependency upon the school. No, the need of scientific the
ology does not spring from the need of the soul, but always
finds its motive in our human thought. There is a world of
thought which binds man to man, and which, notwithstanding
the change of individuals, passes on from generation to gen
eration. Only a few, however, live in that world of thought
with such clear consciousness as to feel themselves at home
there. But they also who do not enter in so deeply, derive
general representations from this world of thought which are
the common property of all and thereby render the mutual
correspondence among minds possible. And this world of
thought cannot resist the impulse to take «U things up into
itself, and therefore also this knowledge of God ; and of this

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY TO ITS OBJECT 329

impulse theology as a science is born. This seems to be other
wise, when we observe that the practical purpose of the first
theological studies was to defend themselves apologetically, or
to train preachers for the Church ; but appearance must not
mislead us. The actual need, expressed in these attempts, was
to seek a point of support for one's propaganda in the world
of thought that was common to Jews and heathen. It was
soon learned that with one's preaching pure and simple no
gains were made. Hence the need was felt of something of
a more transparent character, to supply which the content
of the faith was gradually interpreted in the language of our
thinking consciousness. In proportion as the significance of
this effort after clearer consciousness was more sharply seen,
the sense also gradually awakened of a vocation, which, inde
pendent of necessity and defence, should cause the content
of the revealed knowledge of God to shine likewise in this
world of thought. By obedience to this, that content was
not brought closer to our heart, but was presented with more
clearness to our consciousness. The distance was lessened
between our general conceptions and the content of that reve
lation. The confession of that content became more trans
parent and accurate, and though this scientific theology was
unable to add one grain to the content of this knowledge of
God, it has unquestionably heightened the pleasure of our
possession. The Church, therefore, has not hesitated to
profit by it ; and though there is no single pearl in her con
fession which she owes theology as such, since all her pearls
are gathered from the depths of spiritual life, it is equally
certain that she would not have been able to string these
pearls so beautifully in her confession, had not the light of
theology illumined her spiritual labor. From clearer con
sciousness to go back to mystic darkness, is obscurantism ;
and since theology has also made the scientific torch to burn,
no church that wants to avoid being wilfully " blind " can
afford to act as though this torch had never been lighted, but
must duly take it into account. In this wise, moreover, the
ological science is no abstraction. On the contrary, it springs
of necessity from the life of the Church, upon which it exerts

330 § 65. THE RELATION OF [Div. Ill

an influence in all the stages of its development. What we
protest against is, that theology should be thought to exist
merely for the sake of rendering this auxiliary service, and
that the Church by itself should be considered not to be able
to do without it. Spiritually the Church has prospered long
centuries without it, and in so far can never be dependent
on it. But on the other hand, again, theology should not be
explained from utility. That it did originate, is accounted
for by the nobility of our human thought, which cannot rest,
so long as there is still a single domain within reach which
it has not annexed to itself. Thinking man, converted to
God, has felt himself called to cause the honor of God's truth
to shine also in the world of our representations and concep
tions. If that which God causes us to perceive of Himself
were limited to a mystic esthesia, we might philosophize
about this phenomenon, but we would never be able to ana
lyze this perception theologically. Since, however, at sun
dry times and in divers manners God has spoken unto the
fathers, and thus light upon Grod has arisen in our conscious
ness, that revelation itself has impelled a scientific investi
gation, and Christendom would have done violence to the
impulse of its consciousness if it had lived without tJieoloyy.
Theology, therefore, like every other science, aims jit as
complete and accurate a knowledge of its object as possible.
It too is born from the thirst after insight and clearness,
and cannot rest so long as there is still a possibility of mak
ing the insight into its object more clear. Theology should
not be denied this ideal character of all science, and there
fore its motive should ever be sought in knowing God, and
not in knowing religion or Christianity. Religion and Chris
tendom by themselves are excellent and important subjects,
but as such they do not cover a necessary department in
our consciousness. But this is entirely different with respect
to the Eternal Being. In every human consciousness of
higher development, or at least in the general consciousness
of humanity, there is a vacant space, which can only be filled
by the knowledge of the Eternal One. If, therefore, as was
shown above, theology is to find its object only in the re-

CHAP. I] THEOLOGY TO ITS OBJECT 331

vealed, ectypal knowledge of (rod, this should never be taken
in the sense of scholastic learning. The motive for all the
ology is and ever will be the knowledge of the Eternal
Being, not now in the interest of the needs of our heart, and
not, as a rule, for the practical purposes of life, but solely
in the interest of the world of our thought. More than
this it cannot give. As a science, it is and always will be
intellectual work, and can never be anything else. Only as
far as the revealed knowledge of God has a logical con
tent, is theology able to master it. Outside of the domain
of our thinking it is powerless; but when the matter con
cerns this thinking, it is indisputably the province of theol
ogy to do it.

But if in this way we concentrate its calling upon the criti
cal examination of the self-revelation of the Eternal Being
to us sinners, we do not mean that it is merely to explain from
this revelation what relates exclusively to God and to His
Nature. It must be strictly theological, so that from the be
ginning to the end of its epic God Himself is the hero ; but as
was observed by the older theologians, one can treat of God
both in the direct and oblique cases (de Deo in casu recto et
obliquo). Not only, therefore, that which in revelation deals
with the being of God, but also His attributes, activities,
and creations, so far as these contribute to the knowledge
of God, should be taken up in the investigation ; nature,
therefore, as well, and history, i.e. from the theological side ;
and man likewise, provided he is taken as created after the
image of God, and thus interpreted theologically. And as
knowledge of a powerful thinker is deemed incomplete
for his biography, unless you include his ideas concerning
the significance of man, the great problems of life, and the
development which awaits us in the future, it is self-evident,
that it belongs to the knowledge of God, to investigate what
He declares concerning man, His relation to the children of
men, and His counsel which shall stand. The emphasis,
which we put upon theology, as theology, tends by no means
to impoverish it ; we take it that its content is thereby greatly
enriched ; we only claim that whatever shall belong to its

832 § 6<i. KKLATIOX OF TIIKOLOGY TO ITS OBJECT [Div. Ill

content must be governed by one and the same leading
thought, which leading thought is the knowledge of God.
This provides at the same time a standard, as shall be shown
later on, by which to bring perspective into the Scripture ;
provided we avoid the errors of distinguishing between
Scripture and the Word of God, and of concentrating the
significance of the Scripture upon the religious-ethical. The
knowledge of God alone teaches you to distinguish between
eminent, common, and less important interests in the Script
ure. Only that which you have made your own theologi
cally, you possess as part of revelation ; while that which
to your sense is not connected with the knowledge of the
Eternal Being, lies still outside of it.

Even this, however, does not entirely determine the rela
tion of theology to its object. All this concerns exclusively
the content of Revelation, and does not yet reckon with the
revealed knowledge of God as such. Thus far a dogmatic-
ethical study might develop itself, but this would not provide
room for a theology in the broader unfolding of all its depart
ments of study. Only with the organic construction of
theology as a scientific unity can it be shown more accu
rately of every department, in what relation it stands to the
knowledge of God, and what place, therefore, belongs to
such a department in the theologic unit. To this, then, we
refer ; but it is necessary here to indicate, in broad outline,
from whence theology derives these many departments of
study. It will not suffice to say, that they have appeared
• h'facio, neither will it be enough to emphasize the signifi
cance of these departments as preparation for the preaching of
the Word. To be capable of being scientifically interpreted,
the unit of a science must spring from the root of its object,
or, at least, its object must be its motive. This object here
is: the revealed knowledge of God, or the theolot/ia ectypa reve-
I'tta. From this it follows, that we are not simply to deal
with the content of this revelation, but also that this revela
tion as such must be investigated; that the activity must
be traced, which has gone out from this revelation ; and that
the relation must be traced between revelation and our

CHAP. I] § 66. SACRED THEOLOGY 333

psychic data, in order to make action from our side possible
with that revelation. He who is to make a scientific ex
amination of a mineral spring, is not permitted to rest con
tent with an analysis of its ferruginous quality, but is bound
to inquire into the history of this spring, to watch the action
of its waters, and to experiment as to how its content is best
applied. Apply this to the revealed knowledge of God, and
you perceive at once, that the theological science cannot deem
its task completed, when it has analyzed the content of reve
lation, but the revelation itself and the action that went out
from it, together with the method demanded by its applica
tion, must be studied in their relation to each other. With
the strictest maintenance, therefore, of the theologic character
of our science, nothing prevents a view of the relations
of the several departments of study. For instance, what is
church history but the broad narrative of the effects which
the ectypal knowledge of God has exerted in the life of
nations? Meanwhile we content ourselves with the simple
indication of it here. This relation can only fully be
explained in the closing sections of this volume.

§ 66. Sacred Theology

Before we enter upon the study of the principium of
Theology, we insert here a brief explanation of the ancient
epithet of Sacred before Theology, Not that we should insist
on this title, or that to our idea this title implies any special
merit, but because the purpose of its omission is the secular
ization of theology, and for this reason it has an essential
significance as an effort to destroy the distinguishing char
acter of theology. The habit of speaking of Sacred The
ology has the indorsement of the ages. At the Reformation
the churches found it in this form, and they felt themselves
bound to reverence and maintain it. The first mention of
the omission of this title appears, after the conflict had
begun against a principium proprium for theology ; and
the dislike which the effort to restore this ancient title to
theology creates in many people, is identical with the dis
like which is shown by those same people for every

334 §00. SACRED THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

representation of a special revelation. As the omission of
Sancta was no accident, our effort is equally intentional, to
renew the use of that name in our Reformed circles. By in
serting Sancta before Theologia we desire it to be clearly
understood, that we take no part in the secularization of
Theology, but maintain that it has a sphere of its own.

The Church of Christ has borrowed from the Holy Script
ures this word sacred as a prefix to whatever stands in imme
diate relation to the special revelation. This prefix is con
stantly used in the Old, as well as in the New, Testament.
The spot of ground at the burning bush is called holy ground,
because there the holiness of the Lord revealed itself to
Moses. The vHp in Israel, or the congregation of the people,
is called holy. In Exod. xvi. 23 it speaks of "the holy
sabbath unto the Lord." The people itself is called an
"holy people," and its members are called "holy men"
(Exod. xxii. 31). In a still more pregnant sense the altar
is called "holy" and "whatsoever touches the altar" (Exod.
xxix. 37), which refers to places and buildings, as well as to
persons, their garments, tools and acts. Jerusalem itself is
called the "holy city" (Xeh. xi. 1). Holy, therefore, is the
deiinite epithet not only for what is in heaven, with all the
hosts of angels, but equally for that which on earth is chosen
of God for His service. Thus the Psalmist speaks of •' the
saints that are in the earth." "God's faithfulness is in the
assembly of the hoi}' ones." Thus the Proverbs speak of
the knowledge the people of God received by higher light, as
" the knowledge of the holy" (A. V. ix. 10 and xxx. 3); and,
in short, without a closer study of the idea of £"MJ?, it may
be said that in the Old Testament this title of "holy" is
attached to everything that transmits the special revelation,
flows forth from it, or stands in immediate relation to it.

That it will not do to explain this prefix, "holy," simply
from the symbolic and typical character of the Old Dispen
sation, appears from the entirely similar use of "holy" in
the writings of the New Covenant. Here also we find
Jerusalem spoken of as the "holy city" (Math. iv. o; xxvii.
53 and Kev. xi. 2 ; xxi. 2 and xxii. ll>). Christ also

CHAP. I] § 66. SACRED THEOLOGY 335

speaks of "the holy angels" (Luke ix. 26). Christ himself
is called "that holy one that shall be born of Mary." The
men of God of the Old Covenant are spoken of as the " holy
prophets." The members of the Church of the New Cove
nant, from the Jews as well as from the heathen, bear
the almost fixed name of " the saints," so that ol ayiot,
was provisionally the technical name for those who subse
quently were called "the Christians." In an entirely similar
sense the books of the Old Covenant are spoken of as the
" Holy Scriptures." The kiss, with which the partakers of the
ayaTrai greeted each other, receives the name of "holy kiss."
Children born of believing parents receive the same hono
rary title. Like the prophets of the Old Covenant, the apostles
and prophets of the New Dispensation are called '•'•holy apostles
and prophets." Believers on the Lord are called a "holy
people," a "holy priesthood." Their prayers come up before
God as " the prayers of the saints " ; the martyr's blood is
" the blood of the saints " ; and the Gospel itself is announced
as "the holy Gospel."

In connection with this use of language the Church of
Christ has introduced this epithet of " holy " into her public
utterances ; and not only the Romish Church, but the churches
of the Reformation as well, spoke of the "holy church," of
the "holy prophets," the "holy apostles," the "holy Script
ures," the "holy Gospel," the "holy sacraments," "holy
Baptism," " holy Communion," and thus likewise of " sacred
Theology " and the " sacred ministry." This use of language
was constant, and, at least in this limited sense, met with no
opposition. This only manifested itself when the Romish
church applied this epithet of "holy" distinctively to indi
vidual persons of a higher religious standing. This opposi
tion, however, was not unanimous nor logical. Even where
the so-called Romish saints were passed by, it remained
invariably the custom to speak of "Saint Augustine," "Saint
Thomas," etc. These were inconsequences, however, to which
men were led by the accustomed sound, and which represented
in the case of no writer in the days of the Reformation any
intentional principle ; in addition to which it is observed

336 §66. SACKED THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

that Reformed theologians offended less in this respect than
many a Lutheran.

This does not mean that by this reformatory correction the
use of the ancient Christian church was restored in all its
purity. Originally, indeed, the name of holy (c^o?) was a
general distinction, to discriminate between what was within
and what without. Everything that had entered holy ground
was considered holy ; everything outside was spoken of as
"lying in wickedness"; but in the Scriptures of the New
Testament no such distinction occurs between a lower and
higher holiness within the bounds of the Church. The error
of the Romish Church lies in the application of this title to this
non-Scriptural distinction. While in the Holy Scriptures all
confessors of Christ are called saints, the Romish Church
deprived the people at large of this title, and reserved it for
a special class of Christians, either for the clergy in general,
or for those under higher vows, or for those who, as church
fathers and teachers, held a special position ; or finally,
in its narrowest sense, for those who were canonized. The
Reformation opposed this non-Scriptural distinction, but
lacked courage to restore the name of saint in its original
significance to all believers. Spiritualistic apocalyptic circles
tended toward this ; from the side of Protestantism also,
in addresses, etc.. the whole congregation were again called
•'a holy communion" (eine heilige Gemeinde); poets fre
quently followed this use of language ; but the Reforma
tion has not restored the name of saint as a general term for
every Christian. It preferred rather to abandon the name
in its general sense, than by the use of it to encourage the
Romish misuse.

From this, however, it is evident that there was no super-
licial work done in the days of the Reformation, and that the
representation that by speaking of "holy Scripture." "holy
(Jospel," "holy Baptism," etc., they merely imitated Rome,
rests on a misunderstanding. The reformers did most care
ful work. There were cases in which the epithet "holy"
was purposely dropped ; but others also in which this prefix
was purposely kept ; and to this last category belongs the

CHAP. 1] § 66. SACRED THEOLOGY 337

word " Sacred" before Theology. If it is asked what was
meant by this qualification of theology, no special reason
seems to have been given. As in the Proverbs " the knowl
edge of the holy " was spoken of, it was thought proper that
that knowledge and science, whose principium lies in the
Holy Scriptures, should be distinguished from all other
knowledge ; and thus it may be said, that in the sixteenth
century Sancta theologia chiefly indicated the antithesis be
tween that which came to us from profane literature and
from the Holy Scriptures.

At present, however, this general indication will not suf
fice. The significance of this epithet for the object, the
subject, and the method of theology should be more accu
rately analyzed. And with reference to the object, the prin
cipium proprium of theology stands certainly in the fore
ground. What we understand by this "proper principle"
of theology, we will endeavor to explain in the following
chapter ; here it is merely remarked that the ectypal knowl
edge of God, in which the science of theology finds its
object, does not come to us in the same way, from the same
fountain and by the same light, as our other sciences. There
is a difference here, which in its deepest root reduces itself
to a straightforward antithesis, which places two principles
of knowing (principia cognoscendi) over against each other.
The particular principium of theology characterizes itself by
the entrance of an immediate, divine action, which breaks
through what is sinful and false, in order in the midst of
these false and sinful conditions to reveal unto us, by a light
of its own, what is true and holy in antithesis to what is sin
ful and false. The heathen antithesis between profane and
sacred has no application here. That was simply the pride
of the initiated that expressed itself at the expense of the
uninitiated. The odi prqfanum vulgus et arceo is refuted
and censured by the character of everything that is holy in
the Scriptures, and we might wish that our theologians
would never have employed the word profane as an antithe
sis. In Scripture the antithesis is between the special source
and the natural, which is more sharply emphasized by the

338 § 06. SACRED THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

antithesis between what is wicked, foolish and satanie, and
what is true, holy and divine. But however much this
proper principium of theology, far from underestimating the
natural principium, rather takes it up in itself, as the next
chapter will show, the antithesis between the normal and
abnormal, the general and special, and between that which
is bound by sin and that which surmounts sin, of these " two
sources of knowledge," can never be destroyed. To empha
size this antithesis, the word "sacred" was used in simple
imitation of the Scripture, and in this entirely Scriptural
sense our science was called Sacred Theology.

If thus the principal motive for the use of this word
"sacred" lies in the peculiar character of the object of the
science of theology, a second motive was added in conse
quence of the peculiar quality which in the investigation
of this object was claimed as a necessity in the subject. This
was on the ground of 1 Cor. ii. 14, that "the natural man
receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are
foolishness unto him " ; and also because he who stands out
side of palingenesis "cannot see the kingdom of God."
Hence, there was not simply an antithesis to be considered
between the object of this and of all other sciences ; but a
similar antithesis also presented itself in the subject, that was
to take this theology up into itself and presently to repro
duce it. Not every one can engage in this work, but only
they who are spiritually minded. No intellectual relation is
possible in the domain of this science, between those to whom
this theology is "foolishness," and the others to whom it is
the "wisdom of God." They only, who by virtue of palin
genesis are partakers of spiritual illumination, have their eyes
opened to see the object to be investigated. The others do
not see it, or see it wrongly. By reason of the lack of affin
ity between subject and object, every deeper penetration into
the object is impossible. The rule that "in thy light we see
light" finds here its special application. No blind man can
be our guide in the domain of optics. Though it is entirely
true, therefore, that in the science of Theology the ego of the
general human consciousness is the general subject, yet this

CHAP. I] § GO. SACKED THEOLOGY 339

ego is here incapable of its task, unless the darkening worked
by sin in his consciousness is gradually withdrawn.

This leads, in the third place, to the conviction that the
science of theology is not governed by the general human
mind, such as it now operates in our fallen race, but only to
that extent in which this universal human mind has been
animated by the Holy Grhost, i.e. also to a difference in
method. Only later on can this point be fully explained.
At present let it be said that that same Holy Spirit, who
offers us the Holy Scriptures and the Church as the result of
His activity, is the real Doctor ecclesiie, who enables us to
grasp the truth from the Scriptures, and from our conscious
ness to reflect the same in scientific analysis. As it advances
in the course of centuries, there is coherence and steadiness
of progress in the science of theology, and a decided unity
of effort, even though individual theologians are not con
scious of it or able to determine its course. But while this
unity of effort in the course of centuries is determined in the
other sciences partly by the inherent Logic, and by natural
events keeping pace with it, theology derives this determi
nation of its process from a Logic which presents itself in
light pneumatically only, in connection with events which
flow from the dealings of Christ with his Church. Hence,
this leading of the Holy Spirit as subject of theology makes
itself felt in a threefold way. First, through the Church,
which has the formulation of dogma in hand, and with it the
choice of the course to be taken, and which effects this formu
lation of dogma officially, i.e. as the instrument of the Holy
Spirit. That in this the Church is not an infallible organ,
and the reason for it, will be explained later on. We here
content ourselves with pointing to this mingling of ecclesi
astical power in the development of theology, as one of the
actions of the Holy Ghost. Secondly, this action of the Holy
Spirit presents itself in the logical development of those ten
dencies opposed to the truth, which, without any fault or
purpose of its own, the Church has had to resist successively,
and which only subsequently prove themselves to have been
the means of revealing truth in its logical relation. Not

340 §66. SACKED THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

from the Church, but rather from without comes the frequent
impetus, which stimulates and necessitates spiritual thought,
and yet the thinking born from this is not aphoristic, but
logical and organically coherent. And in the third place
this action of the Holy Spirit is evident from the pro
ductiveness of theology in times when the operations of the
Spirit in the Church are powerful, and from the poverty
and meagreness which are seen in contrast, as soon as those
operations of the Spirit withdraw themselves from the
Church. Subjectively this can be expressed by saying that
theology has flourished only at the times when theologians
have continued in prayer, and in prayer have sought the
communion of the Holy Spirit, and that on the other hand
it loses its leaf and begins its winter sleep when ambition
for learning silences prayer in the breast of theologians.

In this sense, both with reference to its object, and to the
extent in which it concerns its subject, and its method as
well (in virtue of the leading of the Holy Spirit as Doctor
ecclesiae), the peculiar character of theology demands that
its peculiarity shall be characterized also by its title of S<it'r>'<l
Theology.

CHAPTER II

THE FUNDAMENTAL, REGULATIVE, AND DISTINCTIVE PRIN
CIPLE OF THEOLOGY, OR PRINCIPIUM THEOLOGIAE

§ 67. What is here to be understood by Principium

When theology abandoned its proper and original char
acter, it also ceased to speak of a principium of its own ;
and gradually we have become so estranged from the earlier
theological life, that it is scarcely any longer understood
what our old theologians meant by the principium theolo-
yiae. This principium of theology is not infrequently taken
as synonymous with fans theologiae, i.e. with the fountain
from which the science of theology draws its knowledge.
Why is this wrong ? When I speak of the fountains of a
science, I understand thereby a certain group out of the
sum of phenomena, from which a separate whole of science
is distilled by me. For the Zoologist these fountains lie in
the animal world, for the Botanist in the world of plants,
for the Historian in many-sided tradition, etc. But how
ever much in each of these domains of science the fountains
may differ, the principium of knowing (cognoscendi), from
which knowledge comes to us with these several groups of
phenomena, is ever one and the same. It is, in a word, the
natural man who by his reason draws this knowledge from his
object, and that object is subjected to him as the thinking
subject. If now I proceed in like manner on theological
ground, formaliter at least, then my principium of knowing
remains here entirely the same that it is for the botanist or
zoologist, and the difference consists only in the difference
of the object. Whether I seek that object in God Himself,
or in the Christian religion, or in religious phenomena makes
no fundamental difference. With all these it is still the
thinking man who subjects these objects to himself, and by

341

342 § 67. WHAT IS HERE TO BE UNDERSTOOD [Div. Ill

virtue of his general principium of knowing draws knowl
edge from them. For, and I speak reverently, even when
I posit God Himself as the object of theology, this God is
then placed on trial by the theologian, and it is the theologian
who does not cast himself down in worship before Him,
saying, " Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth," but of his
own right (suo jure) investigates Him. The result, indeed,
has shown that he who has taken this attitude, has either
entirely revolutionarily reversed the order of things and
placed himself as critic above his God, or has falsified the
object of theology and substituted for it religious phe
nomena ; a method which seemed more innocent, but which
actually led to a like result, since from this standpoint
'•knowledge of God" remained wanting, and want of knowl
edge of God is little else than intellectual atheism.

The propounding of a special principium in the theologi
cal sphere (even though we grant that this was not always
done correctly), viewed in itself, was little else than the
necessary result of the peculiar character of theology. If
the object of theology had stood coordinate with the objects
of the other sciences, then together with those sciences
theology would have been obliged to employ a common
principium of knowing. Since, on the other hand, the object
of theology excluded every idea of coordination, and think
ing man, who asked after the knowledge of God, stood in a
radically different relation to that God than to the several
kingdoms of created things, there had to be a difference in
the principium of knowing. With every other object it was
the thinking subject that took knoivledge ; here it was the
object itself that gave knowledge. And this antithesis is
least of all set aside by the remark, that the flower also pro
vides the botanist with knowledge concerning itself. This
replaces a real manner of speech by a metaphorical one.
The flower indeed does nothing, and the whole plant, on
which the flower blooms, is passive. Even though it is
maintained that the flower exhibits color and form, this is
bv no means yet the knowledge of the flower, but merely
so many data, from which this knowledge is gathered by the

CHAP. II] BY PRIXCIPIUM 343

botanist. Hence our speaking, with reference to theology,
of a special principium of knowing of its own, is the result
of the entirely peculiar position, in which here the knowing
subject stands over against God as the object to be known.
Theology, taken in its original and only real meaning, as
" knowledge of God," or as " the science of the knowledge of
God," cannot go to work like the other sciences, but must
take a way of its own; which not merely in its bends and
turns, but in its entire extent, is to be distinguished from
the ordinary way of obtaining knowledge (via cognitionis),
and therefore assumes a principium of knowing of its own
as its point of departure.

Even if the fact of sin were left out of account, and the
special revelation were not considered, formaliter a princi
pium of its own must still be claimed for theology. This
claim may be more sharply accentuated by these two facts,
but it may never be represented as though the necessity of
a source of its own were only born formaliter from sin.
This necessity does not merely lie in the abnormal, but in
the normal as well, and must ever find its ground in this
fact, that God is God, and that consequently the Eternal
Being cannot become the object of creaturely knowledge,
as coordinate with the creature. Let it be supposed that
the development of our race had taken place without sin ;
man would nevertheless have known the things that may
be known of God, from the world of his heart and the world
round about him, but not as the fruit of empiricism and the
conclusions based thereon. From the finite no conclusion
can be drawn to the infinite, neither can a Divine reality
be known from external or internal phenomena, unless that
real God reveals Himself in my consciousness to my ego ;
reveals Himself as Crod ; and thereby moves and impels me
to see in these finite phenomena a brightness of His glory.
Formaliter, neither observation nor reasoning would ever
have rendered service here as the principium of knowing.
Without sin, this self-revelation of the Divine Ego to my
personal ego would never have been, even in part, the fruit
of Theophany, or of incarnation, but would have taken

344 § 07. WHAT IS HERE TO BE UNDERSTOOD [Div. Ill

place normally in my personal being, and in such a way
that even then the way by which knowledge is obtained
would have divided itself into two, one leading to the
knowledge of those objects which, being passive. I subjecjb
to myself, the other leading to the knowledge of that one
Object, to which I myself am passively subjected. That
" faith " assumes its peculiar office here, and that, as belong
ing to our human nature, it may turn into unfaith, but can
never fall away, has been remarked before. In this place
it is enough to note the distinction, that formaliter the
thinking subject can obtain his knowledge from a twofold
principium : either from himself, by going to work actively,
or, if he must remain passive, not from himself but from a
principium, the impulse of which proceeds from the object,
in casu from God, and only thus operates in him.

From this it already appears that the proposition of the
old theology, — Principium theologiae est Sacra Scriptura,
i.e. the Sacred Scripture is the Principium of Theology, —
has nothing in common with the representation of a few
remaining supranaturalists, who still grant that the Script
ure spreads light upon much that otherwise would be dark
to us. The very word principium indeed, which may never
be mistaken for fons or phenomenon, claims, that by
nature this principium stands in organic connection with
the real nature of theology. But, as was observed above,
the peculiar character of theology, and therefore also the
special nature of its principium, is accentuated still more
by sin. Under its power it continued not merely a fact
that the thinking subject stood passive!// over against God
as object; but in addition to this, the normal means, for
receiving in the passive sense this knowledge of God, could
no longer operate accurately, and therefore failed of the
desired effect. By nature man could not take knowledge
of God actively, and as sinner he could no longer let him
self even passively be given this knowledge of God by God.
This modification in man and in his relation to God could
issue; only in one or the other result, vi/.. that either the sinner
should live on without "knowledge of God," or that fron:

CHAP. II] BY PRINCIPIUM 345

the side of God there should proceed an activity to impart
this knowledge to sinful man, in keeping with Ids need as
sinner. The latter then, however, took place outside of
the life that sprang of itself from the creation principium
and the knowledge connected with it ; it was a special prin
ciple (proprium quid), which only stepped in between pro
visionally, and was destined to disappear again, as soon as
the normal development of our race had reached its final end.
In this way this self-revelation of God to the sinner was
also materialiter an action from a special principium in
God ; from this principium in God this action went out to
the world and to the sinner ; and as soon as man thus
operated upon began to give an account to himself of the
common phenomena of, and of this abnormal process in, his
life, from the nature of the case the principium of all the
rest would lie in creation, while the principium of this
entirely special action is found in a re-creative act of God.
It made no difference that, along with this action, existing
elements from creation were employed. Such elements were
then assimilated by the active principium and rendered ser
viceable to it, just like the chisel in the hands of the sculptor,
or as a board sawn from a tree, which serves for the hull
of a ship. If in theology, therefore, as such formaliter,
there lay the claim that it springs out of a principium of
knowing of its own, this principium of Theology is distin
guished, by and in consequence of sin, from the principium
of knowing in the domain of the other sciences materialiter
also, and hence concerns both the formal and the material
principium.

In part it may even be maintained, that the principium
of being (essendi) is also included here. That self-revela
tion of God to the sinner is possible even without a pre
ceding regeneration, is shown in the case of Balaam ; but
this exception does not make the rule ; the general rule is,
that regeneration precedes spiritual illumination. The ''en
lightened " of Heb. vi. 4 do not stand in the same line with
the "enlightened" of Eph. i. 18. The latter only are "spirit
ual" and "have received the things of the Spirit of God." This

340 § 67. WHAT IS HERE TO I5E UNDERSTOOD [Div. Ill

regeneration is not an element in knowing (cognoscere), but
in being (esse), and if account is taken of the fact that the
whole revelation of God, though directed by the Logos,
nevertheless proceeds through an entire series of events and
wonders, and finally culminates in the essential incarnation
and all it carries with it, then it is evident that the dis
tinction between theology and the other sciences not only
formally touches the principium of faith, and materially the
"good word of God" (/caA.oy deov prj/jia'), but also penetrates
into our real being (esse). This explains the fact that the
Theosophists, and in part the Mystics in the tracks of the
former, have sought to obtain the knowledge of God along
this way of being (via essendi). And this difference in the
real being (esse) must indeed be taken into account, at
least so far as it concerns its modality, lie who neglects
to do this, annuls regeneration, and thereby undermines all
faith in miracles. Meanwhile it must not be lost from sight
that the distinction in the essential forms no fundamental
antithesis. Sin is no essence (esse), but a modality of it
(TO esse) ; and consequently regeneration, which annuls and
conquers sin, can create no other essence, but can merely
reestablish from its perverted modality the original real
being (esse) into its ideal modality. He who deems that
this touches the essentia itself, and not its modus simply,
becomes a Maniclnean. And if it be said that we must
take account of " the powers of the world to come," etc.,
we answer, that from the beginning there has been an
organic connection between the creature in his present and
eternal condition. Even with the most radical metamor
phosis there could never be a change of the essence. If,
then, it is beyond doubt, that, on account of regeneration
and miracles, real being (esse) must also be considered, no
two principles of being stand over against each other : in
the realm of nature, as well as in the realm of grace, it is
and remains the original principium of being, even though
this principium operates in the two in different ways. Very
properly, therefore, Theosophy has been dismissed, and the
full emphasis has been put on Theo/o'//// as such.

CHAP. II] BY FRIXCIPIUM 347

This has made it customary to seek the proper principium
of theology immediately in the Holy Scripture, by which
was meant of course simply the material principium of
knowing (principium cognoscendi materiale). The knowl
edge of God, which God Himself had communicated by
numerous facts and revelations, and which under his guid
ance was embodied in the Holy Scripture, was the gold which
theology was to delve from the mine of the Holy Scripture.
Meanwhile this could not be intended otherwise than as an
abbreviated manner of speech. A principium is a living
agent, hence a principium of knowledge must be an agent
from which of necessity knowledge flows. And this of course
the Bible as such is not. The principium of knowledge
existed before knowledge had emerged from this princi
pium, and consequently before the first page of Scripture
was written. When, nevertheless, the Sacred Scripture is
called the sole principium of theology (principium unicum
theologiae), then the Scripture here is taken as a plant,
whose germ has sprouted and budded, and has unfolded
those buds. It is not, therefore, the naked principium, but
the principium together with what it has brought forth.
Speaking more accurately, we should say that the material
principium is the self-revelation of Grod to the sinner, from
which principium the data have come forth in the Holy
Scriptures, from which theology must be built up. Since,
however, theology can only begin when Revelation is com
pleted, we may readily proceed from the ultimate cause (prin
cipium remotum) to the proximate (proximum), and say that
theology sprang from the completed revelation, i.e. from the
Scriptures, as the proximate cause, while that revelation
itself originated from the ultimate cause of the self-revela
tion of God.

It is unfortunate, however, that in olden time so little
attention was paid to the formal principium. For now it
seemed altogether as though the still darkened understand
ing was to investigate the Scripture as its object, in an
entirely similar way to that in which this same under
standing threw itself on plant and animal as its object.

348 § 6c<. REPRESENTATIONS CONCERNING [Div. Ill

At first tills compelled the understanding to adapt and
accommodate itself to the authority of the Holy Scripture,
which then still maintained a high position. But, in the
long run, roles were to be exchanged, and the neglect of
the formal principiuin was to bring about a revision of
the Scripture in the sense of our darkened understanding,
as has now actually taken place. For if faith Avas consid
ered under Soteriology, and in connection with faith the
" illumination," what help was this, as long as theology itself
was abandoned to the rational subject, in which rational
subject, from the hour of his creation, no proper and
separate principiuin of knowing God had been allowed to
assert itself?

§ 68. Different Representations concerning the Operation of
this Principiuin

In the first section of this chapter, it has been shown
that the possession of a special principiuin of knowing is
indispensable to theology, for the reason that God is never
a passire phenomenon, so that all knowledge of God must
ever be the fruit of self-revelation on His side. Hence it
is the distinct nature of the object of theology which ren
ders a special principiuin of knowing necessary. This is
essentially agreed upon, without distinction, by all who still
hold fast to theology in its original sense. Xot by those who,
though they have adopted an entirely different object for their
science, still call themselves theologians ; but by the theo
logians of all churches and tendencies, who, in whatever
else they may differ from each other, are still agreed in this,
that theology is bent upon the knowledge of the living God,
and that from God Himself alone this knowledge can come to
us. Among all these, there is no difference of view concern
ing this ultimate cause (principium remotum).

It is different, on the other hand, when it is further
investigated in what way this principium of God's self-
revelation has operated or still operates. The confession
is still almost universal that this self-revelation lies at
<>ur disposal in the Holy Scripture; but while one group

CHAP. 11] THE OPERATION OF THIS PRIXCIPIUM 349

affirms : In the Holy Scripture and nothing else, another
group asserts that the apocryphal books as well, and tradi
tion, yea, the papal inspiration also, claim our attention ;
those who are mystically inclined tend to supersede the
Scriptures by personal inspiration ; and minds that wan
der off yet farther point you to a Word of God in nature,
in history, in the conscience, or in the ideal disposition of
your heart. Two things must be carefully distinguished.
There is, on the one hand, the question whether by sin the
self-revelation of God is compelled to take a temporary
side-road, in order, when sin shall have been entirely over
come, to resume again its original way, or whether in the
sinner, also, the internal address of God is still heard in
sufficiently clear accents. This touches the relation of nat
ural theology to specially revealed theology, and can pass
into the question whether natural theology is not sufficient
for the sinner ; a matter which in turn is connected with
the doctrine of sin. If the reality of sin is finally denied,
by dissolving its antithetic character and by viewing it as
a stage in a continuous process of development, then it is
evident that there is no longer any question of the darken
ing of our knowledge of God by sin. This, however, is not
the point that is in order in this section. Here we assume,
therefore, that the reality of sin is acknowledged, that the
darkening of our knowledge of God by sin is confessed,
so that without a special revelation no sufficient knowledge
of God for the sinner is deemed obtainable. If this is
accepted, then we come to face an entirely different question:
viz. how this special revelation is to be conceived.

The most general conception under which these represen
tations can be grasped is that of inspiration, i.e. of an in work
ing of the Spirit of God upon the mind and heart of the
sinner, by which God makes Himself known to him, and com
municates His will or His thoughts. For the present we pass
by the quantitive element in this inspiration ; we take it now
only qualitatively; in which case it is clear that fundamentally
it is one and the same conception, whether I speak of theop-
neusty in the prophets and apostles, of an internal light in

350 §68. REPRESENTATIONS CONCERNING [Div. Ill

the mysticism of the emotions, or of a papal infallibility.
The prophet, the mystic, and the bishop of Home are all
sinners, and of each of these three it is affirmed, not that they
conceive or imagine something concerning God of themselves,
but that there has gone out or goes out upon them an opera
tion of the Holy Spirit, which eo ipso, as wrought by God,
bears the divine mark of genuineness. In the application only
do these inspiration, internal light and infallibility differ.
The most general conception of this inspiration is that of the
mysticus. He is the individualist ; takes, therefore, every
sinner by himself ; and now thinks that God, being desirous to
reveal Himself to sinners, could scarcely do this in any other
way than by communicating Himself separately to every
sinner, and thus make Himself known by each. This repre
sentation is both the most primitive and simple. Entirely
aphoristically God makes Himself known first to A and then
to 13. That they should know of each other is not necessary.
Every one spiritually sick sits as it were in a cell of his own,
and in this separated cell receives the visit of the heavenly
Physician. Thus it goes on from year to year, and from age
to age. This inspiration repeats itself in land upon land.
In the main it is always the same, and can only vary accord
ing to age, sex, nationality, needs of the soul, etc. With all
these variations the type of this inspiration remains unchange
able. It is ever God Almighty turning Himself to the indi
vidual sinner, and making Himself known in His eternal
mercies. The truth of this mysticism lies naturally in the
high estimate of the personal element in religion, and in
preaching that not only every individual person must come
to his God, but also, that Grod must reveal Himself to every
individual, so that the secret walk with G-od may be found by
every one for his own soul. As a fundamental principle of
theology (principium theologicum), on the other hand, this
representation of the internal light (lumen internum) is of
no use whatever, simply because it rests on fiction. If it
were true, if the Lord our God did give to each one personally
not merely a disposition, an emotion, a perception, but a real
knowledge of God, then he who has been thus mystically in-

CHAP. II] THE OPERATION OF THIS PRIXCIPIUM 351

spired should be able to speak just like the prophets of old, and
the witness of one should confirm the witness of another.
Such, however, is not the case. You never receive from
these mystics a clear communication of what has been revealed
in this way to enrich our knowledge of God. For the most
part they even avoid clear language, and hide themselves
behind indefinite expressions of feeling and sounds with
out rational sense. And where they go a little farther and
come to the communication of definite representations, you
always notice one of two things : either they borrow the
content of their communications from the Holy Scriptures,
or fall back entirely into natural theology, and treat you to
philosophemes well known from other quarters. From this
it appears that the pretended communication of knowledge
of God, which they claim to receive, is the fruit of self-
deception. The Holy Spirit simply does not work along
this individual way, at least not now, after the Scriptures
are completed. What the Holy Spirit personally does, is to
direct faith to the revealed knowledge of God, to explain and
apply this revealed knowledge of God to the heart according
to its particular need, and also to quicken in the soul a lively
sense of truth ; but along this individual way He does not
impart an increase of content.

With a clear understanding of this, the best known mystics
have modified this monotonous-individual conception of inspi
ration. This conception was not interesting enough, there
fore they have inclined to perpetuate the prophets' mantle.
Not every child of God has received such an inspiration,
but only a few. As in former times among the twelve
tribes there were no twelve prophets of influence at once,
but generally a single " man of God " appeared in a given
period, so the work of God is carried on now. Hence there
are present-day prophets ; not many, but a few ; now here,
then there. These men of God receive special inspirations,
which do not tend so much to enrich our knowledge of God,
but rather serve to make prophecies concerning coming dis
asters, to establish the claim that all God's people shall sub
ject themselves to such a mystical prophet, and to regulate

oOli §08. REPRESENTATIONS CONCERNING [Div. Ill

life and religion according to his orders. This, then, is no
longer the theory of an individual, internal light in every
child of God, but the representation that prophetic inspira
tion, as an extraordinary instrument, was not merely tempo
ral and local, but is ever continuous. With this conception
the Holy Scriptures are always assumed as existent ; from
those Scriptures material is drawn ; and only the temporal
and local application of what was revealed in those Scriptures
is vindicated for the mystical fanatic. The tendency reveals
itself indeed again and again to soar paracletically above the
revelation of the Scriptures, and Montanistically to wander
off ; but this is almost always the sure sign of approaching
dissolution. As soon as the break with the Scripture is
entire, the spiritual authority of what was mystically in
spired is ended.

They who seek the proximate cause (principium proximum)
exclusively in the Holy Scriptures, do not deny the mystical
inworkings of the Holy Spirit upon individuals, but maintain
that this mystical inworking as such never leads to knowledge
of God, and therefore can only be added by way of explana
tion and application to the knowledge of God obtained else
where. With this they do not deny, that an inspiration
which brings knowledge of God is possible, but they assert
that this is not general but exceptional, and is not primarily
for the benefit of individuals but organically for the good
of the whole. It remains to them therefore an open ques
tion, whether God the Lord could have followed the mystic
individual way of communicating the knowledge of Him
self ; but it is certain that God did not take this way, and
that His not taking this atomistic way is in close harmony
with the entire method of knowledge in our human race.
Our race does not know by adding together what is known
by A -f- B + (7, but knows organically. There is a process in
this knowledge. This knowledge developing itself in pro
cess is the common property of all, and each one takes part in
this treasure according to the measure of his susceptibility.
This organic conception of our human knowledge lies, there
fore, in the very creation of our race, and it does not surprise

CHAP. II] THE OPERATION OF THIS PRINCIPIUM 353

us that God the Lord has also revealed His divine knowledge
for the sinner in an organic way. Hence inspiration is no in-
shining of God's Spirit in the human spirit that endlessly
repeats itself, but an action from the side of God which
is limited to a definite period and bound to definite condi
tions. That which is revealed of the knowledge of God
within this given period of time and in connection with
those conditions forms one ivhole; not by the addition of one
revelation to the other, but in virtue of the fact that the
one rich thought of God develops itself ever more richly
from one germ. And since now this process has been ended,
so that this revealed knowledge of God has been brought
within the reach of our race, there can of course be no more
real inspiration, and the individual and organic working of
the Holy Spirit which follows after, can have no other ten
dency than to lead and to enlighten the Church in the spir
itual labor which it must expend upon this revelation. This
organic interpretation, then, brings with it that whatever you
confess concerning the Hol}T Scriptures is only valid when
they are completed, so that during the ages which intervened
between Paradise and Patmos, the self-revelation of God
to His people bore in part a different character. From
this point of view distinction is made between the first
period in which the tree begins its growth, and that other
period, when year by year the tree casts its fruit into your
lap. Thus inspiration appears as a temporal activity, which
effects a result, organic in nature, and of an organic signifi
cance for our entire race. It has had a beginning, arid also
an ending ; and the benefit we derive is no longer a con
tinuous inspiration, but the. fruit of the finished inspiration,
Not as though this fruit is simply cast at the sinner's feet,
for him to do with as he pleases. On the contrary, there
are operations of the Holy Spirit, by which He renders the
use of this fruit possible for the sinner. Illumination, the
witness of the Holy Spirit, the sacred office, the leadership
of the Church, etc., all exert an influence on this. In the
sphere of the new life all these operations of the Holy Spirit
are no longer abnormal, but normal, and therefore may never

354 §C8. REPRESENTATIONS CONCERNING [Div. Ill

1)0 placed in a line with the ever abnormal inspiration. In
spiration, therefore, is here taken in connection with all sorts
of other operations of the Holy Spirit, as an abnormal, tem
poral, organic process, the fruit of which lies before us in
the Holy Scripture. The desire to draw the boundary lines
sharply here between the normal and the abnormal, ex
pressed itself most clearly in the rejection of the apocrypha.
The third point of view, that of the Romish Church, does
not differ essentially from this. Rome also rejects the
mystic-atomistic character of inspiration, and interprets it
organically. Rome also affirms a difference, though in a
weaker form, between the first growth and the later life of
this plant. The abnormal character of inspiration is equally
certain to Rome as to us. About the authority, therefore,
of the Holy Scripture, you will not readily come in contro
versy with Rome. But the point of view held by Rome
differs entirely from ours, when Rome does not bring special
inspiration to a close with Patmos, but continues it till the
present day in the Church, even in the bishop of Rome e ca
thedra loqnente. This exerts a twofold influence. First, as
far as it adds to the content of the Holy Scriptures, and
again, in so much as the Church absolutely interprets the
Scripture. Since the prophets and apostles are no more
among the living, but the Church always is, it is evident
that neither prophets nor apostles can exercise any com
pulsory authority in the Church, while by its official inter
pretation the Church has it always in her power to interpret
the utterances of prophets and apostles as she likes. It
should be observed, not only that from this view-point inspi
ration is always continuous, but also that the inspiration of
the past becomes of secondary significance, compared to the
inspiration of later times. And this is what Rome has come
to, by weakening the difference between the normal and the
abnormal. The operations of the Holy Spirit in the sphere
of the new life through the ordained ministry and the coun
cils of ecclesiastics are placed on one line with the inspira
tion of Moses, David or Isaiah ; the apocrypha share the
authority of the canonical books; and on the other side, the

CHAP. II] THE OPERATION OF THIS PRIXCIPIUM 355

applying and expository operations of the Holy Spirit are
withdrawn from the individual life and concentrated in that
which is official.

We pass by the small differences from each of these three
points of view which occur in Greek, Lutheran, and Baptist
Theology. In this section it was our only purpose, where
the ultimate cause (principium remotum) is fixed, to distin
guish the conceptions which had been formed of the manner
in which the Divine energy, in revealing itself to sinners,
had reached its result. This process has been represented
either as mystic-atomistic or as organic. The first has been
done by all fanatics, the latter by all churches. But though
all the churches have agreed in the organic interpretation of
Revelation, they have separated in this : namely, one group
has conceived inspiration not merely as organic, but temporal
as well, and consequently as completed ; while Rome still
thinks that inspiration is continuous in the organism of the
Church.

§ 69. The Relation between this Principium and our Con
sciousness

For the present, we leave the further study of the differ
ent conceptions that are formed of the working of this
principium, in order to go back to the more weight}* ques
tion of the connection between this principium and our
consciousness — a question the answer to which lies for
us in the qualification of this connection as immediate.
There is no third something, that guarantees to our con
sciousness the reality of this principium. The working of
this principium upon our consciousness is direct. This is
really self-evident, since every principium finds its peculiar
character in this, that it is itself ground, and therefore
allows no ground under itself ; but in the case of the prin
cipium of theology ideas have been so confused, that a
separate study of it cannot be omitted. For the sake of
clearness we start from the ultimate cause, i.e. from special
inspiration. Grod from His oivn mind breathes (inspirat)
into the mind of man, more particularly into the mind of

§01). TIIK KKI.ATION !!KT\VKKN [Div. Ill

sinful man, and that, too, in a special manner. This, and
nothing else, is the principium, from which knowledge of
God comes to us sinners, and from which also theology
as a science draws its vital power. That besides this
inspiration there is also manifestation, and that both inspi
ration and manifestation are related to what, thanks to
common grace, has remained in and about us of natural the
ology, is neither denied by this nor lost from sight, and will
appear later on. To prevent misunderstanding, however,
the principium must here be taken as simply as possible :
and then this principium lies in God, in so far as He from
his Divine consciousness inspires something into the con
sciousness of the sinner. Imagine this act of God away;
say that it does not exist; deny this agency, which goes out
from God ; and no theology remains. All that remains is
poetry, conjecture, supposition ; but you have no more
theology. It will not do to say " est Deus in nobis, agi-
tante calescimus illo," for this is nothing but an emotion
in your feelings, a vibration of a Divine power in your
inner life, a something that can very well take place, repeat
itself and continue, without effecting any knowledge of
God in you. For this very reason this inspiration of God
into the human mind, as often as it takes place, is sufficient
unto itself. Who on earth can know what takes place
between God and my heart, but myself; and how can I
know that that which works in me goes out from God to
me, except God Himself gives me the certainty of convic
tion concerning this? The sense of this stands entirely in
line with every other primordial sense, such as with the
sense of our ego, of our existence, of our life, of our calling,
of our continuance, of our laws of thought, etc. All that
God gives me in the natural way, to constitute my sense
as a human being, I not merely receive from Him, but by
Him alone is it guaranteed to me. When this sense of cer
tainty becomes weak, I become sceptical, 1 lose my higher
energy of life, and end in madness, and no human reason
ing can restore to me the lost certainty of my human start
ing-point. The only difference here is. that the general

CHAP. II] THIS PRINCIPIUM AND OUR CONSCIOUSNESS 357

principles of my consciousness are common to me with
almost all men, while with the inspiration of Crod into the
mind of the sinner, one has it and the other has it not,
so that these two stand over against each other. He who
has it not, must deny it ; and he who has it, is often shocked
by the contradiction of him who has it not. This, however,
is not the case with inspiration only. In many other
domains one knows an inner impulse, which is foreign to
another. Think of the poet, the virtuoso, the hero, and
the adventurer. The want of general consent is no proof
of want of foundation, and often works the effect, that con
viction becomes the more firmly founded. Contradiction
can weaken, but it can also strengthen. The question only
is, whether there is sufficient ground for the fact of its
being present in one and absent in the other. Therefore,
the Reformed theologians have ever considered theology
also to rest upon the election. If one reasons that all
men are entitled to the same thing, and that every sinner
has the right to equal gifts of grace, then the fact "that
all men have not faith " (2 Thess. iii. 2) is an " offence " to
us ; and this weakens our sense of what God works upon
and in our soul. Hence there is nothing to be done about
it, that one man is more deeply sensible of this than another,
and that even this sense of God's inspiration appears much
more clearly in one age than in another. Human supports
avail nothing here. When the fogs are too dense, the sun
cannot penetrate to us in its full splendor ; as soon as they
lift or lessen, the light of itself shines again more brightly in
our eyes; and the law remains intact: in thy light shall we see
light. The conflict concerning the reality of inspiration may
safely, therefore, be ended. Because it is primordial, it cannot
be demonstrated ; and because it is sufficient unto itself and
admits of no proof, it cannot be harmed by counterproof.
And it was seen by our fathers entirely correctly, in so far
as they founded their confession of the Scripture ultimately
upon no other testimony than the witness of the Holy
Spirit. All that you add to this may serve as a support to
the side-wall, but is never, either wholly or in part, the

358 §69. THE RELATION BETWEEN [Div. Ill

foundation for the building. If, therefore, our knowledge
of God is only derived from the self-communication of God,
i.e. is the fruit of inspiration, then God as inspirer (I)eus
inspirans) must be the principium, the first agent in our
knowledge of God ; and the finding of a something lack of
this principium, from which it should follow or flow, is
simply inconceivable.

The objection, indeed, may be raised, that in this way
two principles, entirely separated from each other, operate
in our consciousness: on one side God as Creator (I)eus
creans), ancl on the other God as inspirer (Deus inspirans),
and more particularly in a special manner (modo speciali).
And this we readily grant. This is, indeed, unnatural,
and, in a sense, does violence to our consciousness. A two
fold source of knowledge in our consciousness is not in
accord with the original demand of our consciousness ; and
he who lives and thinks strongly, can never cease from the
effort to make those two one, or to cause one of those two
to disappear. Indeed, this duality of principium is no slight
obstacle in the way of the assurance of faith, with reference
to the special principium. Almost all doubt arises from this
dualism. Furthermore, the result must be, that finally this
duality shall fall away again, and that the unity of principium
shall be restored in our consciousness. Such, indeed, it shall
be in the state of glory. In the status gloriae there shall be
'•no more temple in the city," but also no more Bible in the
orator;r. A Bible in the oratory is a sign that you yourself
are still a sinner in a sinful world. Sinner or no sinner,
therefore, is the question which here, too, is decisive ; in
him who is still sinless or who is no longer a sinner, no con
flict, no duality in his consciousness can operate from the
side of his God ; and in him, therefore, no second principium
of Divine knowledge can be added to the original natural
principium. But if you reckon with sin, then, of course, it is
not sufficient that you recognize the incompleteness of our
human conditions; or acknowledge that a great distance still
separates your ideal of love and holiness from your actual
nature ; neither is it sufficient that you heap all sorts of

CHAP. II] THIS PRINCIPIUM AND OUR CONSCIOUSNESS 359

reproaches upon yourself, and whet the sword against sin.
All this does not touch the principium of the knowledge of Crod.
This is only touched, when you yourself know that a breach
has taken place; and that sin has so broken you, that the
channels, through which the knowledge of God flowed to
you in virtue of your creation, have been stopped up and
otherwise injured, and that thus it is an assured fact to you,
that from this natural principium, however good in itself, be
cause once broken and injured, no real knowledge of God can
any more come to you. Then only will your consciousness
be disposed to look upon a second, a different, a temporarily
auxiliary, principium as natural ; and with this disposition
only will your consciousness be able to grasp the guarantee
of the Divine witness in this witness itself. On the other
hand, it is equally true that this deep sense of sin, by which
you learn to know your state as broken before God, does
not come to you from the natural principium, but only
from this special principium. There is an interaction here.
The more powerful your conviction of sin is, the more readily
you grasp the special principium, as suited to your condi
tion ; and also, the more decided you are in your acceptance
of the knowledge of God from this special principium, the
deeper the sense of being a sinner before Crod will strike
root in you. Later on it will be shown, how this witness of
the Holy Spirit in its structure is also ethical in its nature.
Here, however, let it be said, that this witness of the Holy
Spirit always roots in the conviction of sin, and in degree of
certainty runs parallel with the certainty of your sense of
guilt.

What is said above would not lightly rouse contradiction,
if this inspiration of Crod into the mind of the sinner took
place individually. Even those who stand outside of this
inspiration would then acknowledge that they can deny the
reality of it for themselves, but not for others. But, and this
is the difficulty, this principium does not work in this way.
To speak plainly, there is no inspiration which goes out
directly from God to the soul's consciousness of every one
of the elect separately, and offers the same content to all, one

360 § 69. THE RELATION BETWEEN [Div. Ill

by one ; on the contrary, there is one central revelation given
for all, and it is from this central revelation that every elect
one is to draw for himself his knowledge of God. Public
charity may provide each poor man a sum of money with
which to buy provisions for himself, or may spread in a hall
a common table from which all poor people may be fed.
And thus it might be conceived that God should give to
every sinner whom lie chose a special light in the soul, an
individual inspiration in his consciousness, and that every
one should have enough of this for himself. This is what
the mystics of every sort affirm. But such has not been the
will of God. God the Lord has spread one table for His
entire Church, has given one organically connected revela
tion for all, and it is from this one revelation designed for
all, and which neither repeats nor continues itself, that the
churches of all places and times, and in those churches
every child of God, has to draw his knowledge of the
Eternal Being. And the witness of this one central reve
lation which neither repeats nor continues itself, lies for us
in the Holy Scripture. Not, of course, as though that Bible,
by itself, were sufficient to give, to every one who reads it,
the true knowledge of God. We positively reject such a
mechanical explanation ; and by their teaching of the wit
ness of the Holy Spirit as absolutely indispensable for all
conviction concerning the Scripture, by their requirement of
illumination for the right understanding of the Scripture, and
by th.4r high esteem of the ministry of the Word for the ap
plication of the Scripture, our fathers have sufficiently shown
that such a mechanical explanation cannot be ascribed to
them. That they nevertheless took the Holy Scripture, and
nothing else, as principium of the knowledge of God, yea, as
the sole principium, had its ground in the circumstance that
in the witness of the Holy Spirit, in the enlightening and
in the application by the ministry of the Word, there is a
recognition of what happens to or in the subject, in order
that what has been revealed may be appropriated by him ;
but by these the knowledge of God itself is not increased
nor changed. That knowledge of God as such does not

CHAP. II] THIS PRINCIPIUM AND OUR CONSCIOUSNESS 361

come to the sinner from a mystical inworking of the Holy
Spirit, neither from the illumination of the regenerate, nor
from what the preacher adds to the Scripture, but simply
from what he takes from the Scripture. Viewed from what
ever point, the Holy Scripture always remains the real prin-
cipium which brings about the knowledge of God. Plow
this expression principium, applied to the Holy Scripture, is
to be understood, can only be explained later on ; it is enough
that here we translate the individualistic-mystical conception
of inspiration into the organically general one. When we
viewed inspiration in relation to individual man, we said : In
the sinner, so far as pertains to the knowledge of God, the
natural principium has been maimed, so that no more new
or sufficient knowledge of God comes to man through this
channel. This is remedied by a second principium which as
principium speciale is provisionally added to the first. This
principium also is, if you please, God Himself, or goes out
from God. He it is who inspires knowledge of Himself in a
special manner into the mind of the sinner (in mentem homi-
nis peccatoris moclo speciali sui cognitionem inspirat) ; and
consequently He alone can give assurance concerning His
revelation. It concerns here a principium in the proper
sense under or back of which therefore there can lie none
other. Applying this to the central Revelation, we now
say : Our human race, once fallen in sin, can have no more
supply of pure or sufficient knowledge of God from the
natural principium. Consequently God effects an auxiliary
revelation for our human race, which, from a special princi
pium of its own and under the necessary conditions, places a
knowledge of God within the reach of the sinner which is
suited to his condition. It took many centuries to accom
plish this central Revelation, until it reached its completion.
The description of this action of God, i.e. the providing of
this central Revelation for our human race, is contained in
the Holy Scripture. He who would know this central Reve
lation, must seek it therefore in the Holy Scripture. And
in that sense the question, where the special principium with
the central Revelation to our race as its fruit is now to be

362 § 69. THE RELATION BETWEEN [Div. Ill

found, must be answered without hesitation as follows : In the
Holy Scripture and in the Holy Scripture alone.

If, however, this is taken as if the knowledge of God hidden
in the Bible, but not the Bible itself, has come to the sinner
from God, then a link in the chain is cracked, and the chain
breaks. For then indeed the Bible as such is nothing but
an accidental, human annotation, and we have first to decide
which parts of it do or do not hold firm. As criterium for
this we have no individual inspiration ; if we had, the whole
conception of a central-organic revelation would again fall
away. Hence we have no other criterium at our disposal than
our natural principium. And thus the outcome of it must be,
that from this untenable view-point you not only ravel out the
Scripture by historic criticism, but also annul the content
of the central Revelation and reduce it to the natural prin
cipium, in order finally to deny every special principium, and
after the completed round of the circle to return to the nothing
with which you began. Thus indeed it has actually taken
place. Having stripped the whole Scripture of its leaves,
having peeled and shelled it, we come back, after a struggle
of eighteen centuries, by way of Origen, to the Greek philos
ophers, and the choice remains : Aristotle or Plato. This
could not be otherwise, as soon as once the Scripture was
placed outside the Revelation, and it was for the sake of pro
tection against this that our fathers emphasized so strongly
the Divine authorship of the Scripture as such. Even as
your person, by an optical process, photographs itself and
produces its own image upon the collodion plate, so it is
likewise the Revelation itself which has given its own image
in the Holy Scripture. The Scripture as the document of
the central Revelation is therefore organically connected
with that Revelation itself. The ice in which, in summer,
cold is condensed and conserved for you. is organically one
with the cold which it brings you. It was cold which caused
the water to congeal, and from the ice the cool breath is
refreshingly wafted to you. Therefore in olden times it
was ever emphasized that the content and form of the Holy
Scripture were most intimately and organically connected,

CHAP. II] THIS PRINCIPIUM AND OUR CONSCIOUSNESS 363

and that not merely its content but also its form sprang from
the principium speciale, i.e. from that special action which
has gone out from God to our sinful race, in order to
discover Himself to the sinner. The distinction of course
between these two actions of the Holy Spirit must ever
be kept in view ; even more sharply than our fathers were
accustomed to do this. For by their summary exposition
they gave some occasion for the idea, that it were almost
indifferent whether in earlier ages a real revelation had ever
taken place, so long as we but had the Scripture. With
a too high estimate of the chart which was drawn of the
country, the country itself at times seemed a superfluity.
In this way spiritual intellectualism was fed, and oftentimes
the reality of history was sacrificed to a barren abstraction.
The representation of a Bible dictated word for word did
not originate from it, but was materially advanced by it : an
error which of course cannot be overcome, except first the
inspiration that operated in the revelation itself be sepa
rately considered, and then a proper representation be given
of the inspiration that operated in and with the compilation
of the canon of the Holy Scripture. But however strongly
we emphasize that the real inspiration of the Scripture
must be carefully distinguished from the inspiration of the
revelation as entirely dissimilar, yet this may never be
taken as though the one action of the Spirit stood in no
organic relation to the other. Both, indeed, are expressions
of the one will of God, to grant to our race, lost in sin, a
central Revelation, and to bring this central Revelation
within the reach of all ages and people.

For the simple believer it is, therefore, by no means neces
sary to consider this distinction, provided he makes no dogma
of his own thoughtless representation, and with this dogma,
formulated on his own authority, resists the accurate repre
sentation. How the central Revelation has come, concerns
the believer only in so far as it must be to him the fruit of
the grace of G-od — of God, and of that God in His grace.
It is quite enough if the Holy Scripture is but the Word
of God's grace, by which he may live and die. The Heidel-

864 §69. TIIK RELATION BETWEEN [Div. Ill

berg Catechism requires, therefore, no theory concerning the
Scripture, but merely asks that one believe, and believe in
such a way, "that one hold for truth all that God has re
vealed to us in his word" (answer 21). The Scripture,
and all the historic content of which that Scripture bears
witness, is therefore not something by itself, which inserts
itself with a certain independence between our conscious
ness and God, as the principium of revelation; but is as the
wave of ether, upon which the beam of light from the
source of light moves itself directly to our eye. To him who
does not feel that, at the moment when he opens the Holy
Scripture, God comes by and in it and touches his very soul,
the Scripture is not yet the Word of God, or has ceased to
be this; or it is this in his spiritual moments, but not at
other times, as when the veil lies again on his heart, while
again it is truly such when the veil is taken away. With
the Holy Scripture it can never be a God afar off, and the
Scripture a something God sends from afar. The telephone
rather supplies an illustration that interprets this reality,
(rod is, indeed, a God afar off; but He approaches you by
and in the Scripture ; unveils His presence to you; and speaks
to you as though you were standing right by Him, and He
drew you close beneath His wings. The action on God's side
is not ended when the Scripture is completed for all nations.
The revealing activity is then, indeed, completed and decided
to the end, in so far as the central instrument is concerned,
and nothing will ever be added to it ; but this is not all.
This central instrument of revelation is not placed in the
midst of the world, in order that God may now look on and
see what man will do with it. On the contrary, now follows
that entirely distinct action of preserving the Scripture, of
interpreting and of applying the Scripture, and — still more
specially — of bringing the Scripture to individual souls, of
preparing those souls for its reception, and bringing them in
contact with it, and thus finally, by what our Reformed
Theologians called provide ntia specialissima, of rendering this
Scripture a special revelation for this and that given person.
The confession of all those win* have possessed the Scripture

CHAP. II] THIS PKINCIPIUM AND OUR CONSCIOUSNESS 365

most fully and enjoyed it most richly, has ever been that it
was God who brought them to the Scripture and the Scripture
to them ; that He opened their eyes, so that they might un
derstand the Scripture; and that only by the light which shone
on them from the Scripture, light has appeared in their own
person and the life round about them.

At no single point of the way is there place, therefore, for
a support derived from demonstration or reasoning. There
is no man that seeks, and seeking finds the Scripture, and
with its help turns himself to his God. But rather from
beginning to end it is one ceaselessly continued action which
goes out from God to man, and operates upon him, even as
the light of the sun operates upon the grain of corn that lies
hidden in the ground, and draws it to the surface, and causes
it to grow into a stalk. In God, therefore, is the principium
from which this entire action proceeds. This principium of
grace in God brings it to pass that a central Revelation is
established in and for our sinful race. That same principium
is the agent by which the image of that Revelation is reflected
in the Scripture. And it is again that same principium of
grace, the motive power of which goes out to the soul of the
sinner, that by the Scripture it may bind him personally to
that Revelation, and by that Revelation back again to his
God. From this it follows of itself that with each one per
sonally you must distinguish between his experimental
(netto) and purely intellectual (bruto) faith in the Script
ure, i.e. between that in the Scripture which has been
personally assured to his heart by the living God, and all
the rest, which still lies outside of the life of his soul, and
only bears a holy character for the sake of its connection with
the first, though it is as yet unknown to him. The propor
tions of these experimental and intellectual faiths will be
different with every individual according to the depth of
his inner life and the flight of his wings. It will be con
stantly modified with each person whose life of faith ad
vances, so that the experimental and intellectual faith will
proportionately decrease and increase. But however this
purely intellectual (bruto) faith may diminish, it is not con-

366 § 69. THE RELATION BETWEEN [Div. Ill

ceivable that there has ever been one single believer to whom
the entire Scripture has been the possession of his heart.
This may even be maintained of those who have literally
covered the entire Bible, and have served the Church of
God with an exposition of its entire contents. Just be
cause the Divine character of the Scripture rests for us
exclusively on faith, the richest exposition can never consti
tute anything for us a Word of God. The distinction must
clearly be maintained. What God Himself does not bear
witness to in your soul personally (not mystic-absolutely,
but through the Scriptures) can never be known and con
fessed by you as Divine. Finite reasoning can never obtain
the infinite as its result. If God then withdraws Himself,
if in the soul of men He bear no more witness to the truth
of His Word, men can no longer believe, and no apologetics,
however brilliant, will ever be able to restore the blessing of
faith in the Scripture. Faith, quickened by God Himself, is
invincible ; pseudo-faith, which rests merely upon reasoning,
is devoid of all spiritual reality, so that it bursts like a soap-
bubble as soon as the thread of your reasoning breaks.

\) o

The relation between the principium of Theology and our
consciousness can therefore be nothing else than immediate.
Not immediate in the sense that God could not be pleased
to make use of all kinds of transmissions, arrangements and
processes, by which to reach man's inmost soul ; but such
that at no single point of the line the natural principium
can come in between to fill up the void, which might remain
open in the going out of the principium of grace to our
heart. The principium gratiae operates from the side of
God right through the periods of Revelation, the Scripture,
the mystical union, etc., till our heart has been reached and
touched ; and our heart gives itself captive, not because
critically it allows and approves the approach of God ; but
because it can offer no resistance, and must give itself captive
to the operation which goes out from God.

All faith in the Scripture quickened by God, and in God
quickened by the Scripture, which does not bear this imme
diate character, and would borrow its assurance from any

CHAP. II] THIS PRIXCIPIUM AND OUR CONSCIOUSNESS 367

course of reasoning, is therefore absurd. For you must accept
one of two things, either that each one personally must reason
this out for himself, or that only a few are able to do this,
so that the others must depend upon these few. The first
is impossible, for the simple reason that not one-tenth per
cent, of the children of men are capable of entering upon
the required investigation ; and the second is equally im
possible, since then you would substitute faith on human
authority in the place of faith in God. Moreover, faith
is not a demand that belongs to the more advanced periods
of life, but it must be exercised from youth up ; how, then,
would you have faith be born as the result of a study, of
which the best are not capable until the years of mid-life ?
It should also be observed, how in this way the faith of one
would continually be shocked by the mistakes in the inves
tigation of another. What would it profit you, if you had
reached a sufficient and satisfactory result for yourself ? To
morrow a book appears with new objections, and then every
thing with you must remain unsettled, so long as you cannot
successfully unnerve all those new objections. Scarcely, how
ever, has this been accomplished, when still another advances
new difficulties, and thus you are engulfed in an endless
whirl between doubt and faith. Worse still: after a study
of more than twelve centuries spent on the Scriptures,
there is yet no faintest outlook that these studies will ever
lead to a satisfactory result. The conflict concerning the
Holy Scriptures will most likely be continued till the final
return of the Lord. How, then, can faith ever rest on the
result of these studies as foundation, when its presence has
been a necessity from the beginning, and when in those early
times, in which there was no question of these studies,
faith was most vital and powerful ? For no single moment,
therefore, may we entertain the admission that argument
may be the ground of conviction. This would be a " pass
ing into another kind," which is logically condemned. Faith
gives highest assurance, where in our own consciousness
it rests immediately on the testimony of God ; but without
this support, evervtliing that announces itself as faith is

368 § 70. RELATION BETWEEN THIS FRINCIPIUM [Div. Ill

merely a weaker form of opinion based on probability,
which capitulates the moment a surer knowledge supersedes
your defective evidence.

And as regards the objection, that all this is very ex
cellent, provided it does not include the Scriptures, and
no other thought is entertained than of the mystical com
munion with the eternal Being, simple reference to what was
explained in § 46 #</. would suffice ; but even without this
reference, we might say that, as a matter of fact, such faith
has only shown itself where it concerned the Holy Scriptures.
In other circles many different emotions have likewise been
experienced, brilliant exhibitions of ethical heroism been
seen, and many sorts of religious expressions observed, both
Aesthetic and otherwise ; but here we treat of the " Knowl
edge of God " (Cognitio Dei) and of the principia from which
this knowledge of God flows. And that faith, which leads
individuals and whole circles to conscious worship, not of the
" Unknown God " at Athens, but of the known Father who
is in heaven, is not found, except where the Scriptures
have been the Divine instrument, in God's hand, of that
knowledge.

§ 70. Relation between this Principium and the Natural
Principium

The acknowledgment of the Holy Scriptures as the prin-
cipium of theology gives rise to an antithesis between this
principium and the common principium of our knowledge.
From this antithesis a certain relation between the two is
born, and this relation also must be investigated. We speak
here only of theology in the narrower sense as knowledge
of God (cognitio Dei), and in so far we might limit our
selves to the relation between natural and revealed theology
(theologia naturalis and revelata), which is virtually the
contents of this section. Hut this we will not do. First,
because the formal action of our tli inking is also involved,
and secondly, because with natural theology one thinks more
of the content, while lie re we are interested almost exclusively
with the principium from which this content flows.

CHAP. II] AND THE NATURAL PRINCIPIUM 369

As stated above, the natural principium not only may
not be ignored, but is even permanent and lasting, while
the special principium falls away as soon as its task is
ended. Only with this reservation can we speak of a
twofold principium. A twofold principium of knowledge
is thinkable with reference to different objects, as, for in
stance, God and the cosmos ; but not, as in this case, with
reference to God alone. In both cases indeed, in natural
and in revealed theology, we speak of knowledge of God, of
knowledge, therefore, of the same God, and of knowledge
of the same God to be obtained by the same subject, i.e.
man, or more correctly, humanity. No doubt a temporary
inability in man may render the knowledge of God no
more sufficiently possible for him in the normal way, and
thus it must be supplied in an abnormal way ; but this does
not modify the fundamental plan, and the outcome must
ever be, that the knowledge of God is imparted to humanity
in the normal, and hence in only one way. At present nature
stands temporarily over against grace; but in the end, in
glorified nature, there will be no more question of grace.
All that the Holy Scripture teaches concerning the knowl
edge of God in its consummation, aims, indeed, at a
condition in which the abnormality of the ordinance of
redemption falls entirely away, and whatever was grounded
in creation returns, but carried up to its end (re'Xo?). In
part it even seems as though Christ then effaces Himself,
in order that it may be "God all in all." Even as Christ
before His death pointed His disciples away from Himself
to the Father, saying : " I say not unto you, that I will pray
the Father for you; for the Father himself loveth you."

This implies at the same time, that the eternally enduring
knowledge of God, possessed by the redeemed, shall not be
after the nature of the special, but according to the nature
of the natural principium. However rich the dispensation
«f grace may be, it ever remains a bandage applied to the
injured part of the body, and is never that vital part itself.
When a wound of the throat prevents the taking of food
in the common way, it may be brought into the stomach

370 § 70. RELATION BETWEEN THIS PRINCIPIUM [Div. Ill

artificially. The purpose of this, lio\vever, is ahvays to
save life, by the vitality thus saved to bring on healing, so
that finally food may again enter the stomach in the normal
way through the throat. The scaffolding placed before a
dilapidated gable may be the only enclosure about the house
for a long time, and may render it quite invisible, but the
purpose in view is, that presently the scaffold shall disappear,
and the house itself be seen again, and remain in its normal
condition. In a similar sense it must be confessed of the
original principium of knowledge, that by sin it has become
temporarily insufficient and has been rendered incapable ;
that consequently the temporary aid of another principium
has become indispensable ; but that the tendency of this can
be no other than to restore the natural principium, i.e. the
principium grounded in our nature to its normal activity ;
and as soon as this has been realized, to dismiss the special
principium, which renders merely a temporary service. Let
no misunderstanding, however, enter here. We by no means
assert that the purpose of extraordinary revelation is to re
store us to the knowledge of God which Adam had. All
knowledge we possess in this earthly dispensation shall pass
away, and in place of this defective knowledge there is to
come the "seeing face to face.'' Even now the form of
our consciousness differs by day and by night ; ecstasy and
vision affect us differently from common fancy and sober
reasoning. But this effects no change in our psychic con
stitution. Even if you imagine sin never to have entered,
so that no ruin of our nature had taken place, and there
would consequently have been no question of a special revela
tion, the knowledge, nevertheless, which Adam had as con
nate, would sometime have passed into the "seeing face to
face." The butterfly exhibits an entirely different form
from the caterpillar, and yet that butterfly came forth from
the natural conditions of the caterpillar, without any assist
ance in the transition from an abnormal something. Call the
knowledge which Adam had in paradise the caterpillar, ;md
the "knowing face to face'' the beautiful butterfly, and you
perceive how this higher and to be completed knowledge

CHAP. II] AND THE NATURAL PRINCIPIUM 371

belongs, nevertheless, to the sphere of the natural and not
to the sphere of the special principium.

This, however, has been heretofore too much overlooked by
orthodox theology. Losing itself almost entirely in the con
tent of the special revelation, it has taken this too much for
the essential one, and has scarcely been able to represent it
otherwise than that this special revelation is to be perma
nent. The insight, that of course the Scripture ceases its
use to us with our dying, that after death no sacrament is any
more conceivable, and that in the realm of glory the Christo-
logical period, if we may so express it, shall disappear, in
order that the triune God may again be " all in all " has not
been given its place even dogmatically. Rome, by the ac
tion of the church on earth in behalf of the dead, had con
centrated eschatology entirely into the period preceding
the Judgment-day ; the Reformation neglected eschatology
sorely ; what from the side of modern orthodoxy has been
supplied in our times to make us think of a church with a
soteriologic ministry beyond the grave, has occasioned mere
confusion ; when the state of the blest was considered, it
was more a mystical fanaticism than the sober putting of
the question of the consciousness of the redeemed : it is not
strange, therefore, that the question, from what " principium
of knowledge" the redeemed will think, was not even formu
lated. Light on the subject, however, was not wanting.
"Prophecies, tongues, knowledge," everything that consti
tutes our riches here, will disappear, according to the word
of the apostle. Special revelation is called a " glass," which
renders temporary aid, to receive for us the image and reflect
it back again ; but that glass also shall sometime belong to
the past. And then there comes an entirely different know
ing, even as we are Jcnotvn, which includes of itself, that
this knowledge will come to us entirely by the data provided
in creation. Not of course so as to lose anything of what
was revealed in the rich revelation of the mercy of God in an
uncommon way, but, and herein lies the mystery, in order to
take up this rich gain into our normal existence ; which mys
tery finds its explanation in the dogma de Christo. It is

372 § 70. RELATION BETWEEN" THIS PHINCIPIUM [Div. Ill

revealed to us, that the Mediator shall make surrender of the
kingdom to God, even the Father, but in such a way, that
lie Himself remains eternally the Head of His mystical body
(corpus mysticum). The Christ will not disappear, in order
that Adam may again take his place as head of our race. On
the contrary, Adam never resumes the place of honor lost by
sin ; but the mystery is this, — that Christ shall sometime be
no longer the interposed Mediator, but the natural Head of
the human race in glory. This, however, may not detain us
now. But the suggestion of the dogmatic relation between
the question in hand in this section, and the questions of
eschatology and Christology, was necessary. And provi
sionally our purpose is accomplished, if it is clear, why the
whole dispensation of special grace passes away, and ho\v
in consequence the special principium of knowledge, from
which theology draws its life, is destined sometime to dis
appear into the natural principium.

This, however, does not explain the mutual relation of the
two, though this indeed is most necessary, if we hope to es
cape the false representations abroad, especially concerning
natural theology (theologia naturalis). If at first the Refor
mation fostered more accurate ideas, soon the temptation
appeared too strong, to place natural theology as a separate
theology alongside of special theology (theologia specialis).
The two were then placed mechanically side by side. To
natural theology we owed the knowledge of God's Being,
of the Divine attributes, of His works, providence, moral
law, the last judgment, etc., and although special theology
made us know a great deal of sin and grace, in fact it en
riched the real knowledge of God only with the knowledge
of His '"Grace" and of His "Threefold Being"; at least,
in so far as real clearness is concerned ; for the fundamental
feature of this mystery too was soon thought to be also
found among the Heathen. With this division it became
apparent, that the real Theology as knowledge of God gave
the lion's share to natural theology, and that the theology of
grace, while it occupied itself with many and exalted mys- .
teries, in reality abandoned the foundation of all knowledge

CHAP. II] AND THE NATURAL PRINCIPIUM 375

of God, and therefore the heart of the matter, to its twin
sister. This furnished natural theology the occasion to
unfold its wings ever more broadly ; to expand itself and
lessen the importance of special theology; until finally it has
succeeded in stepping forth as a monarch and in contesting
all right of utterance to special theology. And this could
not be otherwise, and will repeat itself again and again, so
long as the error is committed of representing special the
ology as sufficient in itself, and of making natural theology
do service as Martha by the side of Mary. It is, therefore, of
the greatest importance, to see clearly, that special theology
may not be considered a moment without natural theology,
and that on the other hand natural theology of itself is
unable to supply any pure knowledge of God.

That special revelation (revelatio specialis) is not con
ceivable without the hypothesis of natural theology, is
simply because grace never creates one single new reality.
This does not even take place in miracles. In no miracle
does anything originate which is to be added as a new ele
ment to the existing cosmos. The very possibility of this
is inconceivable and would destroy the organic character of
the cosmos. In regeneration no new component part, which
in creation lay outside of our being, is added to man. And
even in the incarnation it is no new " Divine-human nature,"
which as something new (novum quid) is added to what
exists, but our own human nature that becomes the revela
tion of that same God, who stood over against Adam in the
creation. That in heaven no new reality has originated,
needs no assertion. But since neither in heaven nor on
earth any new reality is created by grace, how can special
revelation stand on a root of its own ? If you go outside
of reality, then, it is a fiction with which you cannot deal.
If, on the other hand, as the Church confesses, it lays hold
upon the reality of heaven and earth, then it can be no other
than the existing reality, and in order to be true, it cannot
borrow its strength from any but that existing reality. All
that the Scriptures teach, therefore, concerning " the mak
ing of all things new," the " new creature " and the works

372± § 70. RELATION BETWEEN THIS PRINCIPIUM [Div. Ill

iii Christ," views at no time anything but new relations, new
methods of existence, new forms, and never puts us face to
face with a newly originated element. As far as the sub
stance is concerned, God remains unchangeable, the being of
man is now what it was before the fall, and the cosmos is
indeed impaired, but always the identical world of Gen. i. 1.
In man also no new capacities are created, for even faith (as
was shown above) roots in our nature, as created by God in
Paradise. In what domain then can the reality be found, in
which a special grace, outside of natural life, could soar on
wings of its own ? Where would be the spot to offer it a
resting-place for the sole of its foot ? This entire represen
tation, therefore, as though grace had produced a knowledge
of God of its own, which as competitor runs by the side of
natural theology, must be most decidedly rejected. There
can be no such special theology ; it is simply unthinkable.
When Calvin, therefore, speaks of the " seed of religion ''
which is present in every sinner, and our Confessio Belyica
teaches in Art. 2, "that we know God by two means, Nature
and the Scriptures," this may not be taken in the sense of
the later rationalistic supranaturalists, for there lies in it
only the simple confession, that without the basis of natural
theology there is no special theology. " God has given to all,''
says Calvin, " some apprehension of his existence, the memory
of which he frequently and insensibly renews " (List. Eel.
Chr. 1. 3. i.). "So that the sense of the Divinity can never
be entirely lost " (Ibidem). And it is upon the canvas of
this natural knowledge of God itself that the special reve
lation is embroidered. He expresses it so accurately and
beautifully: "the Scripture, collecting in our minds the
otherwise confused notions of Deity, dispels the darkness,
and gives us a clear view of the true God" (Inxt. I. (I. i.).
It is, therefore, beside the truth when the separate mention
of Nature and the Scripture in the Reformed confessions
is taken as an indication of our principium of knowledge, by
way of juxtaposition or coordination. Later dogmatici may
have taught this, but it is not in accord with the spirit of
Calvin or of the Reformed type of doctrine. His metaphor,

CHAP. II] AND THE NATURAL PRINCIPIUM 375

that the Bible is a, pair of spectacles which enables us to
read the Divine writing in nature, may be insufficient as an
explanation of the problem in hand ; in any case it cuts off
absolutely every representation that the idea of natural and
special theology as two concurrent magnitudes is derived
from Calvin.

If we might choose another metaphor to explain the rela
tion between the two, entirely in the spirit of Calvin but
more fully, the figure of the grafted tree pleases us most.
He who grafts, plants no new tree, but applies himself to
one that exists. That tree is alive, it draws its sap from the
roots, but this vital sap is wild, in consequence of which the
tree can bear no fruit that is desired. And now the grafter
comes, and inserts a nobler graft, and thereby brings it to
pass that this vital sap of the wild tree is changed, so that
the desired fruit now ripens on the branches. This new
graft does not stand by the side of the wild tree, but is
in it ; and if the grafting is a success, it may equally well
be said that the true graft lives by the old tree, as that
the uncultivated tree is of use solely because of the new
graft. And such, indeed, is the case here. The wild tree
is the sinner, in whose nature works the natural principium
of the knowledge of God as an inborn impelling power. If
you leave this natural principium to itself, you will never
have anything else than wild ivood, and the fruit of knowl
edge does not come. But when the Lord our God introduces
from without, and thus from another principium, a shoot of
a true plant, even the principle of a pure knowledge into
this wild tree, i.e. into this natural man, then there is not
a man ly the side of a man, no knowledge by the side of
a knowledge, but the wild energy remains active in this
human nature, i.e. incomplete knowledge ; while the ingrafted
new principium brings it to pass, that this impelling power
is changed and produces the fruit of true knowledge. The
special knowledge is, indeed, a new and proper principium,
but this principium joins itself to the vital powers of our
nature with its natural principium ; compels this principium
to let its life-sap flow through another channel ; and in this

87<) §70. RKLATION HKT \VKK.N THIS 1'lilNfII'IUM LI)iv. Ill

way cultivates ripe fruit of knowledge from what otherwise
would have produced only wood lit for fire.

If now we investigate the meaning of this iigure, entirely
clear by itself, it appears at once that the grafting of true
upon wild wood is only possible because both, however
different in quality, are one, nevertheless, in disposition of
nature. Grafting succeeds the better in proportion to the
closeness of correspondence between the two kinds of wood,
and if all relationship were wanting between wild and true
wood, grafting would simply be impossible. For the subject
in hand, this means that natural and special theology pos
sess a higher unity, are allied to one another, and, by virtue
of this unity and relationship, are capable of affecting each
other. This higher unity lies (1) in God, (2) in man, and
(3) in the purpose for which the life of grace, and conse
quently the special knowledge, comes forward. In Go<L
because the principium of natural, as well as of special,
knowledge lies in Him ; because He remains the object of
both kinds of knowledge ; and because the revelation of
His grace is revelation of grace in Him who created natu
ral life for the glory of His name. Secondly, in man, since
it is the same ego that draws knowledge from both prin-
cipia ; since in this ego it is one and the same consciousness
in which this knowledge of God is taken up ; and since it
is no other kind of man, but the very man who fell, who
as sinner needs the knowledge of this grace. And, finally,
in the purpose of the special knowledge, which consists not
in a cutting off of our natural life, but in the restoration
of that same life, which is ours by nature, into a normal
state guaranteed against a new fall. Special revelation
does not begin, therefore, by ignoring what has already
been effected by natural revelation, but unites itself to this
in so positive a sense, that without these sparks (scintillae)
or remnants (rudera) it were itsel'f unthinkable; and fi>r
this reason Reformed Theology has ever resisted the Lutheran
representation as though the sinner were merely "a stock
or block." If the "seed of religion'1 did not operate in the
sinner, he would not be susceptible to special revelation.

CHAP. IT] AND THE NATURAL PRINCIPIUM 377

Whatever still remains in the sinner of this seed of religion
and the knowledge of God connected with this, is, therefore,
adopted by special revelation, as the indispensable instru
ment by which it operates. Without this, it neither reaches
nor touches man, remains an abstraction, and misses its form
of existence. How can there be a sense of sin without the
sense of God, or susceptibility for grace without the con
sciousness of guilt? The Holy Bible is, therefore, neither
a law-book nor a catechism, but the documentation of a
part of human life, and in that human life of a divine pro
cess. Of the Apocalyptic vision only, it can be said that
it misses this quality in part ; but because of this very
antithesis with the Apocalypse, one perceives at once the
real human character of all the other parts of the revelation-
life. Nowhere in the Scriptures do you find, therefore, an
attempt to divide into certain compartments what is severally
supplied by natural and special knowledge ; but, throughout,
you find the special revelation grafted upon the natural.
Natural knowledge is not only assumed by the special, but
only in this does it fully assert itself. Knowledge is the
pinnacle which is not placed on the ground alongside of
the steeple, but is supported by the body of the steeple and is
lifted up on high. You may not say, therefore : This is my
natural revelation, in addition to which comes the special.
For as a result, you obtain but one "knowledge of God," the
content of which has flowed to you from both sources, whose
waters have mingled themselves.

And if for this reason an exhibition of the special knowl
edge without the natural is inconceivable, the representation
is equally absurd that the natural knowledge of God, without
enrichment by the special, could ever effect a satisfying
result. The outcome has shown that this natural knowl
edge, as soon as it threw off the bridle of paradise tradition,
led the masses to idolatry and brutalization, and the finer
minds to false philosophies and equally false morals. Paul
indicates one of these two phases by the remark, that there
was first a condition in which the natural knowledge of God
allowed " that which may be known of God " (Rom. i. 19) to

878 § 70. RELATION BETWEEN THIS PRINCIPIUM [Div. Ill

be manifest, but that this was followed by the period in which
God gave the sinner up (Tra/ae'Sco/ce). Not to speak now of
that first period, it is clear that at least after that the natural
knowledge of God could lead to no result ; not even in phi
losophy, of which the same apostle testifies that the " wisdom
of the world is made foolish " (1 Cor. i. 20). Hence it is only
by the special knowledge that the natural knowledge be
comes serviceable. By the light of the Scripture the sinner
becomes able to give himself an account of the " seed of re
ligion" in his heart and of the "divine things" visible in the
cosmos ; but, where this light hides itself even upon the
Areopagus I advance no farther than to the Unknown God.
If therefore this entire juxtaposition, as though a special
knowledge of God stood side by side with a natural knowledge

o «/ O

of God, falls away, the way is cleared thereby to view more
accurately the relation between the two principia of this
knowledge thus distinguished. Both principia are one in
God, and the beam of this light is only broken when the
soundness of our human heart is broken by sin. The
knowledge-bringing impulse goes out from God to us ; the
active element, the first mover (primum movens), as the ulti
mate cause (principium remotissimum), lies in the Divine
Being. This impulse of self-communication to man attains
its end completely in creation by the whole instrumentation
for the natural knowledge. And where, after sin, this Divine
impulse encounters an evil cataract, which prevents the
entrance of light, this impulse seeks and finds another and
more sure way by special revelation. Hence it is the same
God, and in that God the same impulse, by which both prin
cipia appear in action. That in the origin of all things, or,
more particularly, in God's eternal counsel, both these stood
in this unity before God, cannot detain us here, since this
belongs to the domain of dogmatics ; but here it must be
indicated that the natural principium lays the foundation
of all knowledge, and that the special principium either fails
of its purpose or must adapt itself entirely to the provisions
that are original in the creation. Even the miracles, whose
character cannot be considered closely here, link no new ele-

CHAP. II] AND THE NATURAL PRINCIPIUM

ment into the sum of things, but, so far as their origin is con
cerned, they are entirely identical with the wondrous power
which became manifest in the creation itself. The same is
true of the several means, which God has employed, to intro
duce the special revelation into our human consciousness.
In the interests of this also you see no new or other capaci
ties appear in man ; but merely the application in a peculiar
manner of what was given in the creation. Before the fall
God speaks with Adam, God causes a deep sleep to come
upon Adam, and, by an encroaching act of God, Eve enters
upon existence. God has entrance to our heart by nature,
and not first by grace ; He is able to rule the human spirit
by His Spirit ; and able to communicate to man what He
will. The communication of the test-commandment is an
immediate communication of a conscious thought, which
could not rise from Adam's own consciousness. Actually,
therefore, in special revelation no single means is used which
was not already present by nature in or about man. No
new structure is provided for human consciousness. All
that has taken place is, that God the Lord has restored a few
broken strings of the instrument, tuned these restored strings
in a different way, and by this immediate modification He has
evoked such a tone from the instrument as, being without
significance to sinless man, had become indispensable to the
sinner. Hence there would have been no question of a second
principium, if there were not this act of God, by which
He has accommodated Himself to the sinner. It is with
this, as it is with you, when for the sake of making yourself
understood by a member of the family who has become deaf,
you no longer choose his ear as a vehicle for your thoughts,
but make him read with his eyes the words from your lips.
Thus, when we became deaf to God, He has employed a dif
ferent means by which to make Himself knowable to us ; and
in so far as with a deaf person the hearing of sound and the
reading of lips might be called a different "principium of
knowledge," there is here also the mention of such different
principles, but only in so far. There has gone out an act from
God to reveal Himself to the sinner, however deaf this one

380 §71. IS THK XATi'UAL PRIXCII'lL'M AIJLE [Div. Ill

had become ; for this God has availed Himself of the means
that were present in the creation, but which were now applied
in a different way ; and it is by this abnormal act of God,
brought about by the modified application of present means,
that special revelation was established ; and in this, i.e.
in this abnormal act of God, brought about by means applied
in a different way, lies the special principium for the knowl
edge of God as All-Merciful to sinners. When croup pre
vents the breathing in of air, the heroic operation in the
throat is sometimes undertaken, in order in this way to
obtain a new opening for the supply of fresh air; but
they are still the same lungs for which the air is intended,
and it is the same atmosphere from which the air is drawn ;
only another entrance has been unlocked temporarily, and in
so far a different principium of respiration has been estab
lished. In this sense it can be said, that the normal en
trance, which in creation God had unlocked for Himself to
our heart, had become inaccessible by sin, and that for this
reason, by an act of heroic grace, God has temporarily opened
for Himself another entrance to our heart, to reveal Himself
as the same God to the same creature, only now with the aid
of a different principium of revelation.

In God, who is and always will be Himself the principium
of all being (essentia) and all knowing (cognitio), nothing
else is conceivable than the unity of principium. But when
from His eternal being our becoming is born, there is majesty
in this eternal being to maintain His divine identity over
against every abnormal process in our becoming ; and this
takes place by the appearance of the special principium,
which actually is nothing else but the maintenance of God's
holiness over against our sin, of God's truth over against
our falsehood, and of God's counsel over against the demo
niacal design of Satan.

x 71. 7s the Natural Principium able to summon the Special
Principium before its Tribunal?

Having freed ourselves, in the preceding section, of all
dualism, which is so often inserted between the two principia

CHAP. II] TO JUDGE THE SPECIAL PRINCIl'IUM? 381

of Divine knowledge, we now face the no less important
question, whether the natural principium, either formally or
materially, is to sit in judgment upon the special principium.
This is the frequent claim. They who oppose us, and do
not recognize another principium alongside of the natural
data, continually demand, that we demonstrate the reality
and the reliability of the special principium at the bar of
human reason. And to a certain extent this demand is fair,
at least over against Methodism, and, in fact, over against
every dualistic tendency, which, in the sense we disapprove,
places special revelation as a new unit alongside of the
natural principium, as though the latter were under sen
tence of death, and the special principium could furnish the
guarantee of eternal permanency. Over against every rep
resentation of this character our conviction remains dominant
that our life, as originally given in the Creation, is the sub
stratum of our real existence ; that as such it is and remains
for us the real ; and that, therefore, whatever special revela
tion may supply, must be taken up into this and, for us
personally, can only thus obtain its reality. From this,
however, it does not follow that the natural principium
should be qualified to judge the special revelation. If
special revelation assumes that in consequence of sin the
normal activity of the natural principium is disturbed, this
implies of itself that the natural principium has lost its
competency to judge. He who considers it possessed of
this competency declares thereby eo ipso that it is still
normal, and thus removes all sufficient reason for a special
revelation. You must either deny it the right of judgment,
or, if you grant it this right, the object disappears upon
which judgment shall be passed. The psychiater, who treats
the maniac, cannot render his method of treatment dependent
upon the judgment of his patient. Equally little can you
attribute this right of judgment over the special principium
to the natural principium, if you consider the character of a
principium. As soon as you grant that special revelation
falls under the judgment of your natural principium, it is
hereby denied eo ipso that it has proceeded from a priii-

382 §71. IS THE XATUHAL I'RINCIl'IUM ABLE [Div. Ill

cipium of its own. Xo other judgment except death un
qualified ("la mort sans phrase") is here possible for the
special principium, simply because a judgment, derived from
the natural principium deeming itself normal, cannot posit
a second principium. A principium in its own sphere is
exclusive. In order to subject the principium of theology
to the judgment of another principium, you must first con
fess that it is no real principium. For a thing is either no
principium, or it must be autonomous and sufficient unto
itself.

This is of the more force, in this instance, insomuch as
the natural principium, taking its stand in judgment over
against us, presents itself as unimpaired, and pretends to be
normal. If it recognized the reality of another principium,
it would at the same time imply the confession, that it itself
has become disabled, and is consequently in need of the cor
rective or of the supplement of another principium. Hence
this question also has a moral side. If self-knowledge, quick
ened by the inshining of a higher light, leads to the recog
nition that the natural principium has become imperfect,
then it is most natural (1) to grant the necessity of a
corrective principium, and at the same time (2) to recog
nize that our darkened natural principium is incompetent
to pass judgment. If, on the other hand, I stand in the
high-spirited conviction that the natural principium is in
good order, that nothing is wanting in it, and that conse
quently it has the right of supremacy, then it follows that
every corrective must seem insulting, upon all of which alike
I must pass the sentence of death, and that I cannot rest
until each corrective lies executed under the dissecting knife
of criticism. The outcome, indeed, has shown that this
standpoint has never been taken and maintained with any
degree of consistency, without the whole of special revelation
being always and inexorably declared to be the product of
delusion or of self-deception. Grace has been granted only
to those component parts of this revelation which allowed
themselves to be brought over to the natural principium.
Every effort to defend the good right of your position is

CHAP. II] TO JUDGE THE SPECIAL PRINCIPIUM ? 383

therefore entirely vain, over against a man of thought, who
holds the natural principium to be unimpaired, and who has
not himself come under the overwhelming power of the special
principium. Being as he is, he can do nothing else than dis
pute your special revelation every right of existence; to move
him to a different judgment you should not reason with him,
but change him in his consciousness ; and since this is the
fruit of regeneration, it does not lie with you, but with God.

From this, again, it does not follow that you may now
accept everything that comes into your mind, and that thus
you may be unreasonable with yourself. Reformed Theology
has always antagonized this caprice, and in imitation of the
Cur Deus homo ? of Anselm it has, with reference also to
special revelation, first of all instituted an investigation into
the necessitas Sacrae Scripturae. He who, thanks to the in-
shining of higher light, has perceived the darkening of the
natural principium, and has given himself captive to the
special principium, cannot on this account abandon his rea
son, but is bound to try to understand these two facts in
their mutual relation and in relation to the reality in which
he finds himself. This is both demanded and rendered
possible by what we found in the last section concerning the
relation of the special principium to our creaturely capaci
ties ; even in the sense, that one is able to see for himself
the reasonableness of his conviction and confession ; is able
to prove this to those who start out from similar premises ;
and can place them before the opponent in such a light that,
with the assumption of our premises, he can accept our con
clusions.

The argument may even then be continued concerning
those premises themselves, more particularly with reference
to the question, whether our reason is in a condition of
soundness or of darkening ; but suppose that the unsound-
ness or abnormality of our reason be granted on both sides,
this would by no means compel the opponent to accept the
special principium which we defend. From the coincidence
of the facts, that one of your children is lost and that I have
found a lost child, it does not in the least follow, that the

384 §71. IS THE XATVllAL PUIXCIPIUM ABLE [I)iv. Ill

child I have found is your child. Even though it were
frankly granted that something is lacking in our reason,
that our reason by itself is insufficient, — yes, that it calls
for a complement, — the conclusion can never be logically
drawn from this that the Sacra Scriptura, or, better still, the
special principium lying back of this, either is or offers this
complement. Even though you compel the opponent to
recognize, that your special principium fits into the imper
fection of your natural principium as a piece of china into a
broken dish, this would not prove the reality of this natural
principium. For it could still be answered, that the defect
would surely be supplemented, if indeed a revelation, such
as you pretend, were at our disposal ; but that this is the
very thing in which you are mistaken ; that your special
principium, with its supposed fruit in the Sacra Scriptura,
is nothing but the shadow cast upon the wall by the existing
defect ; is the product of your own imagination ; the minus
balance of your account changed into plus. In a word, there
would always be defence ready against the proof that this
special principium is real, and this proof is not possible of
any principium. Could this be furnished, it would eo Ipso
cease to be a principium.

But this will not be reached. For though you succeed
in showing that your reason founders upon antinomies,
that it finds itself shut up within limits which cannot be
made to agree with the impulse after knowledge that works
in it, and that it leaves the higher aspirations of our nature
unsatisfied, this has no compelling force with him who has
an interest in not accepting your special principium. For he
can make good his escape b}r the way of agnosticism, which
accepts the incomplete character of our knowledge as an
iron necessity ; or make the side-leap to the pantheistic
process, which calculates that from the incomplete the com
plete of itself will gradually come forth. Moreover, though
lie evade you in this manner, you may not question the
honesty of your opponent. From your own point of view
vou acknowledge that he who stands outside of spiritual
illumination does not perceive, and cannot perceive, the real

CHAP. II] TO JUDGE THE SPECIAL PRINCIPIUM ? 385

condition of his own being, nor of his reason. In a religious-
ethical sense you may indeed say, that the impulse of his
opposition is enmity against God ; but this does not make
him dishonest as a man of science, within the domain of
logic. He takes his premises, as they actually present them
selves to him, and so far acknowledges with you, that in the
natural principium there is something that does not satisfy
us ; but he disputes that, for the present at least, it needs to
satisfy us, and more still, that the satisfaction, of which you
boast, is anything more than appearance.

Hence the dispute can advance no farther than the acknowl
edgment of antinomies in our consciousness and the insuf
ficiency of our reason to satisfy entirely our thirst after
knowledge. But where the recognition of this leads you
to the conclusion of the necessity of the Sacred Scripture,
the rationalist either stops with the recognition of this
disharmony, or glides over into other theories, which allow
him to limit himself to the natural principium. And
rather than call in the aid of another principium with you,
he will cast himself into the arms of materialism, which
releases him at once from the search after an infinite world,
which then does not exist. All the trouble, therefore, that
men have given themselves to make advance, by logical
argument, from the acknowledgment of the insufficiency of
our reason as a starting-point, has been a vain expenditure
of strength. The so-called Doctrine of Principles (Princi-
pienlehre) may have served to strengthen in his conviction
one who has confessed the special principium ; and to shield
prevailing tradition from passing too rapidly into oblivion ;
it has never provided force of proof against the opponent.
He who is not born of water and the Spirit, cannot see the
kingdom of God, and the human mind is sufficiently invent
ive so to modify its tactics, whenever you imagine that you
have gained your point, that your proof is bound to lose its
force. It is a little different, of course, when you touch the
strings of the emotions, or appeal to the " seed of religion " ;
but then you enter upon another domain, and cease to draw
conclusions from logical premises.

386 § 71. IS THE NATURAL PRIXCIPIUM ABLE [Div. Ill

The same is true in part of the apologetic attempt to re
fute objections raised against the content of our Christian con
fession, and more particularly against the Holy Scripture as
the principium of theology. Polemics will never be able to
attain satisfactory results with reference to these points,
simply because the spheres of conceptions and convictions,
from which the argument proceeds on the two sides, are too
widely apart : the result of which is that scarcely a single
concrete point can be broached, which does not involve the
whole subject of anthropology and the entire " Erkenntniss-
theorie." In order, therefore, to make any gain, the general
data that present themselves with such a concrete point should
first be settled, one by one, before the real point in question
can be handled. This makes every debate of that sort
constrained. Scarcely has a single step been ventured in
the way of such a controversy before it is felt on both
sides that the acknowledgment of a different opinion on
this one point would unsettle one's entire life- and world-
view. If the naturalist grants the break of the chain of
natural causes in one point, by acknowledging that a psychic
or physical miracle has taken place, his entire system is over
thrown ; and, in like manner, if the Christian theologian
acknowledges in one cardinal point the assertions of his
torical criticism with reference to the Holy Scripture, he
thereby loses his grasp upon the whole principium by which
his theology lives. By this we do not assert that, with
reference to the Holy Scripture, there are not many re
marks that have been made on logical incongruities, either
in the economy of the Scripture itself, or between it and
cosmic and historic reality outside of it, which, unless our
confession is to lose its reasonable character, claim an answer
from our side ; but though these remarks might compel us
to make confession in our turn of a partial agnosticism, or
to subject the dogma of inspiration to revision, to us the
special principium will never lose thereby its characteristic
supremacy ; just as on the other hand the most triumphant
solution of the objections raised against it never could, and
never can move him, who docs not confess this principium, to

CHAP. II] TO JUDGE THE SPECIAL PRINCIPIUM ? 387

accept it. The acceptance of this principiurn in the end
cannot rest upon anything save the witness of the Holy
Spirit, even as the acceptance of the natural principium has
never rested upon anything save the witness of our spirit,
i.e. of our self-consciousness. If this testimonium of our
self-consciousness fails us, then we become sceptics or insane ;
and, in like manner, if the witness of the Holy Spirit is not
present in us, or is at least inactive in us, we cannot reckon
with a special principium.

The effort, therefore, put forth by theology in the days
of the Reformation to derive from the Scripture itself proofs
for its divine character, is devoid of all force with the
opponent. Not because of the objection, that you reason
in a circle, by seeking from the Scripture itself what the
Scripture is. Our earlier theologians answered this cor
rectly by saying, that this argument was not meant authori
tative, but ratiocinative ; that the glitter of the sapphire
could only be proven by the sapphire ; and that in like
manner the divine majesty of the Holy Scripture could only
shine out from that Scripture. But however accurate this
statement was, what avail is it, if you show the most beauti
ful sapphire to one blind, or to one of " that worst kind of
blind people who refuse to see " ? One needs, therefore,
but examine the series of these proofs for a moment, and it
is at once perceived how utterly devoid of force they are
over against him who merely accepts the natural principium.
The miracles and the fulfilment of prophecy, indeed, have
been pointed to, as if these had some power of proof for him
who denies the very possibility of miracle and emasculates
all concretely fulfilled prophecy as being "prophecy after
the event" (vaticinium ex eventu). The divine character
of the Doctrina Scripturae was cited, as though criticism had
not already then been exercised against it, and, as it was
claimed, its insufficiency been shown. The majestic style
of the Scriptures was referred to, the consensus of its books,
the effectiveness of its entire content, as though even then
the arms were not already being welded by which each of
these attributes of the Scripture would be disputed, or

888 §71. IS THE XATURAL 1'HIXCIPIt'M A1JLK [Div. Ill

attributed to it only in common with other writings. And
when outside of the Scripture the blood of the martyrs was
mentioned, the consensus of the Church, and the " natural
and human character (conditio) of the writers themselves,'1
arguments were produced which were so easily applied to
other sacred books that all their force evaporated. What
ever may be the worth of these arguments for those who are
within the walls (intra muros) to combat doubt, outside of
these walls (ad extra) they are of no value. Our acutesi
dialectic!, such as Maccovius for instance, have clearly seen
this in their day. His reference to Hagar in the wilderness
shows this. " Hagar," he writes, " at first did not see the
well near by ; but after her eyes were opened, then at last
she saw the well " (antea non vidit puteum in proximo :
sed postquam oculi ipsi adaperti sunt, turn demum vidit
puteum) (Joh. Maccov. II., Theologic. quaestionum, p. 4 in
Mace, redivivus, Franeq, 1654), — an analogy by which h»-
tries to show, that the marks of its divine origin are truly in
the Scripture; but that no one can see them as long as th-
veil still hangs before his eyes. This is only taken away by
the " enlightening " " by which the Holy Spirit discovers to
us those inner relations of the Scripture, which had hitherto
been concealed " (quo ostendit Spiritus Sanctus eas rationes
Scripturae insitas, quae antea ei occultae erant) (Ibideni).

Hence our conclusion can be no other, than that whosoever
confesses the Holy Scripture to be the principium of theology,
both for himself and his fellow-confessors must certainly be
able to give an account of the way in which this auxiliary
principium is related to the permanent natural principium.
in order that his confession may remain rational ; but that
this ratiocination can neither for himself be the ground on
which his confession stands, nor ever compel the opponent
to come to this confession. The witness of the Holy Spirit
is and ever will be the only power which can carry into
our consciousness the certainty concerning the special prin
cipium. Moreover, in the footsteps of our old theologians,
it must be observed that it is also the witness of God as
Creator (Testimonium Dei Creatoris) that can alone give us

CHAP. II] TO JUDGE THE SPECIAL PKINCIPIUM ?

certainty for the natural principium. When God refrains
from giving this certainty to our self-consciousness, \ve
lapse into insanity, generally after the course lias been run
of the several stadii of scepticism. It is indeed true, that
with respect to this natural principium, as a rule, we make
110 mention of the " witness of God as Creator," but this is
explained from the fact, that it coincides with our self -con
sciousness, and that further account of the origin of this
self-consciousness is rarely taken. It is simply the first truth
from which departure is made. The special principium, on
the other hand, enters into this self-consciousness as a sense
of a different kind, and is thereby of itself reduced to its
deeper origin in God. But however strongly this may
appear with men of higher development, who, after they
have lived for a long time by the natural principium only,
now perceive the light in their consciousness from that other
source as well, this is much less the case, and sometimes not
at all, with common believers, who, regenerated in their
youth, have never experienced this transition in their con
sciousness. In the case of such, immediate faith has been
given equally naturally and as fully with their self-con
sciousness, as immediate knowledge for the natural principium
is given with the awakening of our natural self-consciousness.
For man as creature there can never be any other principium
of knowledge but his Creator, naturaliter, as well as by the
way of grace. What the Psalmist declares, only "in thy
light shall we see light," remains the absolute ground of
explanation for all human knowledge.

§ 72. Universality of this Principium

One who, himself of a sound mind, should have to live on
some isolated island among insane people, would run a great
risk of becoming himself insane ; and in such a condition a
very strong mind only could maintain the reality of its con
sciousness. Just because we do not exist atomically, but
are bound together with others organically, also in our
consciousness, in order to remain firm our own sense cannot
afford to lose the support of a similar sense in others. The

390 § 72. UNIVERSALITY OF THIS PRIXCIPIUM [Div. Ill

same applies to the special principium. With this also, as a
rule, the communion in our own consciousness can be strong
and permanent only when this communion finds a support
in the similar conviction of others. This rule, however,
does not always hold. As one sane person, because of a
strong mind, might be able in entire isolation to maintain
his self-consciousness, it is possible for one person to experi
ence the inworking of the special principium, and live by it,
even though in his entire surroundings there should operate
nothing but the natural principium. At first, indeed, this had
to be so, in order that the working of this special principium
might become manifest. It could not begin its work except
in single persons. As a rule those individuals were men of
strong minds, and to support their isolated faith the Lord
gave them signs, mostly in the material world, which kept
them from falling away from the power which had taken
hold of them. Heroism of spirit is here called into play.
When Christ, forsaken of all, even of His disciples, battled
alone in Gethsemaue, this struggle in loneliness became so
fearful, that angels came to break His isolation, in order to
support Him. So long, then, as revelation is still in process
of completion, we see again and again the manifestation of
extraordinary powers, by which the maintenance of faith is
rendered possible, and these signs only disappear when Reve
lation has reached its completion, and the special principium
finds a circle, in which faith can assume such a communal
character, that the conviction of one supports that of the
other.

If thus, like the natural principium, the working of the
special principium requires a broad circle in which to exert
itself organically, this circle becomes still more indispensable
when a scientific account is given of what this special prin
cipium is and offers. Science demands universality. Not
in the sense, of course, that nothing is established scientifi
cally in the natural world until every individual has agreed
to it, but in the sense that all men of sound understanding
can readily be brought to perceive the truth of it. The
same applies to the special principium. The law of univer-

CHAP. II] § 72. UNIVERSALITY OF THIS PRINCIPIUM 391

sality must prevail here also, and must always be well
understood by those who live by this principium. These
only are taken into account, just as in natural science we
reckon with those alone who are men of sound sense, i.e.
who live by the natural principium. All these, then, must
be able, if they follow your demonstration, to perceive the
correctness of it. This accounts for the fact that in later
ages only the question arose of a science of theology. Be
fore that time there was theology as knowledge of God ;
even measurably in a dogmatic sense; but as yet no theologi
cal science. This could only originate when the Revelation
was completed, and liberated from the restrictions peculiar
to Israel. Then there arose that universal circle among all
nations, that circle of confessors in their general human
character, who live by this special principium.

This communal character, which, along with every other
principium, is common to the special principium, received
no sufficient recognition in the conflict of the Reformation.
From our side, the line of personal faith was ever drawn too
tightly ; while Rome, from her side, substituted the institu
tional Church too largely for the organic communion. Each
of the two parties defended thereby an element of truth, but
it was done by both in an insufficient and one-sided manner.
Very properly did our Reformers maintain the personal char
acter of faith, which does not reach its full unfolding, until
it places our inner life in direct communion with the Eternal
Being ; but they lost sight of the fact that this is the fullest
development of the faith, not its beginning, and that in its
maturity it cannot flourish as it should, except in the
communion of saints. Rome, on the other hand, defended
very rightly the common feature, which marks faith, but
committed a double mistake, — first, that it did not allow
the personal character of faith to assert itself, and made it
amount to nothing more than communion with God through
the intermediation of the Church, and secondly, that it sub
stituted the ecclesiastical institution for organic communion.
This might, perhaps, have been more clearly seen if in their
dogmatic exposition our Reformers had added, at once,

392 § 72. UNIVERSALITY OF THIS PRINCIPIUM [Dzv. Ill

to their distinction between the Church as a visible body
and at the same time invisible, the more careful distinction
between the visible Church as composed of believers (eccle-
sia visibilis in fidelibus) and the visible church as an insti
tution (ecclesia visibilis in institute) . They did this, indeed,
in their ecclesiastical law ; observing thereby that the Church
of Christ may be visible in a city or village, because of the
believers who live there, even while no Church organization
is established by these believers, and that the ecclesia instituta
only originates by this organization. But in their dogmatics
they referred almost exclusively to the general antithesis
between visible and invisible, and thereby could not fail to
convey the impression, that by visible Church they merely
understood the Church as an institution. Since Rome out
did this, and wholly identified the visible Church with the
Church as an institution, the problem could not be solved ;
since the Church as an institution was certainly subjected to
the rule of the Word of God ; and therefore our Reformers
observed correctly, that the institute must borrow its guar
antee from the Scripture, and not the Scripture its proof
from the institute. Transfer this difference to the life of
the world, and it will at once be understood. In society at
large the natural principium is in force and the institute is
the government, which, to be sure, is in the community, but
is ever sharply distinguished from it. Can the assertion now
be made that the truth of this natural principium is to be
determined by the State ? Of course not ; simply because
the State, so far as it is constituted by man, is an outcome
of the natural principium. Undoubtedly, therefore, this
natural principium can support the State, but not lean upon
the State. On the other hand, by general conceptions, and
public opinion derived from these, this natural principium
finds its point of support in human society. And this is the
case here. The Church is to the special principium what the
State is to the natural principium. The Church as an insti
tute, founded by man, is built after the rule of the special
principium, as this speaks to us from the Holy Scripture.
Hence the churchly institute can borrow support from the

CHAP. II] § 72. UNIVERSALITY OF THIS PKINCIPIUM 393

special principium, but not the special principium from the
churchly institute. But what is true on the other hand —
and this is the position which we defend — is, that faith in
this special principium is supported and maintained by the
churchly community, i.e. by the wow-instituted but organi
cally present communion mutual among believers.

It is unhistorical, therefore, to imagine that every person,
taking the Bible in hand from his own impulse, should for
mulate the truth from it for himself. This is simply absurd,
for actual experience shows that one either grows up in, or
in later life enters, a circle in which confessions of the truth
already exist ; and that, in vital communion with this circle,
clearness is reached in his consciousness of what was poten
tially given in regeneration, but which only from this com
munion can draw the life-sap needed for its development.
As one tree of the forest protects another against the vio
lence of the storm, so in the communion of saints does one
protect the other against the storm-wind of doubt.

This fellowship of believers, carefully distinguished from
instituted Churches, exhibits its universal human character
in the fact that it continues its life in successive generations
and extends itself to all peoples and nations. So far as the
first is concerned, it has a history back of it which extends
across many centuries, and by its confession it ever preserves
communion with the past. Not merely in the sense in which
a nation holds its ancestors in sacred memory, for in national
life the dead are gone. He who dies loses his nationality,
and belongs no more to his people. This fellowship of be
lievers, on the other hand, knows that its departed ancestors
still live and always stand in organic connection with it.
Moreover, while a people changes its public opinion from
age to age, in this ecclesiastical fellowship the same world of
thought remains constant for all time. Hence the tie to the
special principium is not maintained by those alone who are
now alive with us and subscribe to the same confession as
ourselves, but much more by those millions upon millions
who now rejoice before the throne. And so far as the second
is concerned, the outcome shows that the Christian religion,

3'.»4 § 72. UNIVERSALITY OF THIS I'KLXCIl'IUM [Div. Ill

originating in Asia, passed over from the Semitic to the
Lido-Germanic race, presently conquered the Northern Coast
of Africa and the entire south of Europe, and never allowed
itself to be nationalized. Christ had humanized Ids confes
sion, by breaking down every partition wall (jueo-oVot^oy) ;
and this universal human character stands in immediate con
nection with the possession of a special principium of knowl
edge. That which is national may give tradition, but cannot
provide a special principium for our consciousness. It is
seen, therefore, that every effort, applied outside of this
principium, has merely led to national forms of religion ;
and even Buddhism — which, by the chameleon character
of its pantheism, lent itself to stealthy invasions among
many nations — remains in principle, nevertheless, an Indian
world of thought. Islam alone — and this is worthy of
notice — still exhibits, to a certain extent, an cecumenic char
acter, which is attributable to the fact that Mohammedanism
is grafted upon the special principium, such as it flourished,
thanks to the Scripture, in the Christian life-circle. Even
thus Islam has never taken root in the finer branches of the
human tree. Islam is and remains Arabic, and outside of
Arabia has gained an entrance onljr among those nations,
which either have taken no part in the general human de
velopment, or have stood at a much lower level. Even the
accession of Persia to Islam is attended with the disappear
ance of this nation, once so great, from the world stage.

If thus we leave out of account for a moment the working
of this special principium before Golgotha, we face the fact
that for almost twenty centuries a separate human life has
developed itself in our human race; principally in the nobler
branches of the human tree and among the more finely organ
ized nations; and that the development of this separate life
has not taken place with isolated nations such as China and
India, but even now in five parts of the world, and chiefly
in that current of our human life which has carried the
hegemony, and caused the development of our human race
to ascend to its present heights. We see that this separate
life has been characterized everywhere bv the action, in

CHAP. II] § 72. UNIVERSALITY OF THIS PRINCIPIUM: 395

addition to that of the natural principium, of another princip-
ium of knowledge, and that wherever the Christian religion
has withdrawn, as in West-Asia and North-Africa, all human
life has sunk back again to a much lower level. We see
that in this broad life-circle, which has extended itself across
many ages and among many people, there has arisen a special
world of thought ; modified universal conceptions have begun
to prevail ; and in this genuinely human circle the human
consciousness has assumed an entirely peculiar form. In this
way have originated that universal life and that universal
thought, which have certainly clashed with the other circle,
that rejected the special principium, but which have pos
sessed, nevertheless, entirely sufficient consistency to invite
and to render possible scientific construction upon the foun
dation of that principle which, in this circle, is universal.
It will not do, therefore, to represent this special principium
as an idiosyncrasy of a few enthusiasts. The melancholy
decline of all mystic fanaticism shows what the profound
difference is between the parasite, that springs from fanatic
imagination, and the cedar, that has struck its roots in the
fertile soil of this real principle. This special principium
is as universally human as the natural principium, with this
difference only, that it is not given to each individual, but
is organically grafted upon the tree of humanity. The life-
circle, indeed, which finds its centrum in Christ as the bearer
of the new life-principle, is not a branch of our race that
is set apart ; but this body of Christ is the real trunk of our
human race, and what is not incorporated into this body, falls
aAvay from that trunk as a useless branch. He is, and re
mains, the second Adam.

Moreover, the peoples and nations that have stood or still
stand outside of this life-circle, involuntarily bear witness
to the insufficiency of the natural principium in its present
working. When in Deut. xviii. inspiration is announced
by God as the peculiar working of the special principium,
He says: "I will raise them up a prophet from among their
brethren, like unto thee ; and I will put my words in his
mouth, and he shall speak unto them all that I shall com-

§72. UNIVERSALITY <>F THIS I'KINCIPIU.M [Div. Ill

mand him." An important thought, however, precedes the
announcement of this rich inspiration, which in all its full
ness is given in Christ as "Prophet." In the tenth verse,
reference is made to divination and necromancy, which were
common among the nations, and toward which Israel be
trayed strong tendencies ; and now they are told that the
satisfaction of the need which spoke in this desire was not
to be sought in the way of this enchantment, but that God
alone is able to grant them the aspirations of their hearts.
This impulse after necromancy, taken in its deepest signifi
cance, can be no other than the desire to find, in addition to
the natural principium, another principium of knowledge for
all those profound questions of life upon which the natural
principium can cast no light. From this it appears, that the
insufficiency of the natural principium declares itself in the
universal human sense, so long as this still expresses itself in
an unconstrained and natural way. The appearance, there
fore, of another principium of knowledge in the Christian
religion does not enter the present state of things as soim--
tliing foreign, but fits on it as a new spire upon a steeple, the
former spire of which has fallen into ruin. We grant that
afterwards, in philosophy, the natural principium has tried to
show the superfluousness of such an auxiliary -principium.
However, we must not fail to observe that these efforts of
the philosophic spirit, so long as they were religiously colored,
never occasioned in the religious world anything but endless
confusion of speech; that they have never resulted in the
founding of a religious life-circle of universal significance;
and that these systems, drawn from the natural principium,
have more and more abandoned eternal concerns in order in
materialism to deny their existence, or in agnosticism to
postulate the special principium. It is noteworthy, there
fore, that since the apostasy, which began in the latter part
of the last century, a broad life-circle has been formed in
Europe and America, which has abandoned the special prin
cipium, in order, in Spiritualism, to revive the ancient effort
after necromancy. This Spiritualism now counts its fol
lowers bv the millions, and its main desire is to obtain an

CHAP. II] § 73. THIS PRINCIPIUM AND HOLY SCRIPTURE 397

answer to the questions which force themselves upon our
human mind, in another way than that which comes from
the natural principium. While in other circles, where this
Spiritualism has gained no entrance, the effort is certainly
manifest, to obtain knowledge from the mysticism of the
emotions, of what " common sense " has left uncertain.
Every philosophical tendency, which, for the sake of defend
ing itself against intellectualism, seeks another source of
knowledge, pleads at heart for the necessity of a special
principium. Pure intellectualists alone maintain to this
day the sufficiency of the principium of rational knowledge;
and this is even in opposition to Kant, who, in his "prac-
tische Vernunft," placed a second something dualistically
over against the "reine Vernunft." But the barrenness of
such intellectualism is sufficiently evident.

We refuse, therefore, to allow the charge, that the special
principium, as an invention of fanaticism, floats like a drop
of oil upon the waters of our human life, and we maintain,
on the contrary, that the need of such an auxiliary principium
is universally human ; that in its organic working this prin
cipium bears an universally human character ; and that in the
final result towards which it directs itself, it has an universally
human significance.

§ 73. This Principium and the Holy Scripture

That the sphere of the special principium is wider than
the compass of the Holy Scripture, needs no separate dem
onstration. Even though you firmly maintain that here you
deal with a principium of knowing, it is here as impossible
as elsewhere to ignore the principium of being (essendi).
It is for this reason that in special revelation also fact and
word run parallel and stand in connection with each other.
There is not simply an inspiration that kindles light in our
consciousness, but there is also a manifestation in miracles
which operates upon the reality of being ; and both flow
naturally from that same principium in God, by which He
works re-creativery in His deranged creation. The repre
sentation as though a way of life could have been disclosed

§ 73. THIS PKINC1PIUM [Div. Ill

for us by a book descended from heaven or by a Bible
dictated from heaven, rests upon an intellectualistic abstrac
tion, which interprets altogether incorrectly the relation
between being and thought, between fact and ivord. If it is
entirely true, that God created by speaking, so that the
creatural being originated by the word, it must not be for
gotten that this word went out from Him who carries the
TO esse in Himself. In the creation therefore there is no
question of an abstract word, but of a word that carries in
itself the full reality of life ; and that the Scripture-\vord
does not meet this requirement, appears from the fact, that
without concomitants it is inert, even as the most glittering
diamond without inshining light and admiring eyes differs
in no particular from a dull piece of carbon. Protest there
fore has ever been entered from the side of the Reformed
against Luther's effort to place Word and Sacrament on a
line, as though an active power lay concealed in the Script
ure as such. Even though Luther's representation of an
" eingepredigter " Christ allows defence to a certain extent,
the Bible, as book, may never be accredited with a kind of
sacramental power. By itself the Bible is nothing but a
carrier and vehicle, or, if you please, the instrument pre
pared by God, by which to attain His spiritual purpose, but
always through the ever-present working of the Holy Spirit.
If thus we take the sphere of action which belongs to
this special principium in its entire compass, we find that it
embraces everything that has taken place from the side of
God, cither immediately or mediately, and that has not pro
ceeded from the natural principium, i.e. the whole plan of
redemption ; everything that has tended to realize this plan ;
all the special leadings, signs, and wonders ; and in this
connection the entire inspiration and the formation of the
Scripture ; and also all palingenesis, all illumination, all
revelation of the Church of Christ ; while from this same
principium there shall yet come forth the palingenesis of
heaven and earth, until the kingdom of glory is begun.
The Bible, therefore, instead of being identical with this
principium so far as its activity is concerned, is itself a

CHAP. II] AND THE HOLY SCRIPTURE 399

product of this activity. Neither can it be said, that the
Bible at least is identical with the fruit of the principium
of knowledge, as such, for this also invites two objections :
First, that many histories are contained in the Bible, so that
it resembles in nothing a text- or law-book ; and secondly,
that this principium of knowing (cognoscendi) has produced
by no means the Scripture only, but from it proceeds even
now the working of the Holy Ghost, which maintains, applies
and vitalizes the knowledge of God, partly by illumination
in the consciousness of individuals, and partly by the work
of the sacred ministry.

To understand the just relation between this special prin
cipium in God and the Holy Scripture, a more accurate
definition is demanded, and this is only obtained by a double
distinction. First, by the distinction between that which
concerns our race as an organic unit and the knowledge of
God in the single individual ; and secondly, by the distinc
tion between the content of the material of our knowledge
and the way in which our knowledge takes this material up
into itself. Both these distinctions demand a brief explana
tion. The Romish dogmaticians very properly observed, that
the Holy Scripture could not be the instrument of salvation
in the absolute sense, for the reason that many centuries
elapsed before it was completed, and that there were never
theless not a few who in the meantime, and without Script
ure, were saved. This admits no rejoinder. It is simply
true. But this objection loses its force at once, when we
consider the great mystery. In Rom. xvi. 25 ; in Ephes.
i. 9, iii. 9 ; Col. i. 26 ; 1 Tim. iii. 9 ; Tit. i. 2 ; and 1 Pet.
i. 20, this mystery is referred to again and again as the
key which unlocks for us insight into the course of reve
lation. This involves no secondary point, but a main point,
and this main point, as we read in Col. i. 26, amounts
to this : that there is the " mystery which hath been hid
from all ages and generations," which eighteen centuries
ago has been revealed to the saints of God, " to whom God
was pleased to make known what is the riches of the
glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ

400 § 73. THIS PllIXCIPIUM [Div. Ill

in you. the hope of glory." By this falls away every con
ception as though revelation after the fall had progressed
aphoristically or atomistically ; and we get the conception
of a revelation which goes through its definite stages, and
thus moves along towards its final goal ; which goal has
been reached only when the whole earth unlocks itself for
the reception of this revelation, and this directs itself, not
to single persons, nor yet to a single nation, but to our
human race as a whole. If thus lesser or greater parts of
the Holy Scripture, and finally even the whole Old Testa
ment, may have rendered provisional service in Israel, the
Holy Scripture as such obtains its full significance only
when special grace directs itself to our race as an organic
whole and causes the Catholic Church to appear in humanity.
The holy apostle Paul expresses this most pertinently,
when of the Old Testament he declares in Rom. xv. 4,
" For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written
for our learning" ; a thought which he repeats in 1 Cor.
ix. 10 and in 1 Cor. x. 11, and in the latter especially
emphasizes very strongly. There he does not only say that
kt all these things are written for our admonition" but even
prefaces this by saying that all these things happened unto
Israel, "by way of example.'" Entirely apart therefore
from the question, how God saved individual persons in
the times when the revelation had not }'et been placed
in the centrum of our human race, the fact must be held
fast, that the Holy Scripture was intended to discharge
its full task from that moment only when our race, taken
as a whole, in its heart and centre, was apprehended
with a view to salvation. Only when the saving hand
was extended to the cosmos, and God " so loved the ivorld
that He gave His only begotten Son," had the moment
come, when the Holy Scripture also would attain its en
tirely exceptional significance. All that lies back of this is
merely preparation, and now for the first time, when in Christ
the divine esse has been brought into our race, in the Holy
Scripture also the divine word goes out not to one nation,
but to all nations, and to those nations as an organic unity,

CHAP. II] AND THE HOLY SCRIPTURE 401

as cosmos. All true understanding of the significance of
the Holy Scripture is lost, therefore, when this important
incision in the course of revelation is lost from view. He
who does not understand, that even as the Christ, the Holy
Scripture also is given to the ivorld, cannot tolerate it. It
is the one Logos which in Christ by incarnation, and in the
Scripture by inscripturation goes out to humanity at large,
as it is being saved by God and shall hereafter shine in
glory. If thus the question is put what goes out to our
human race as such from the special principium as matter of
Divine knowledge, the answer reads : The Scripture and
nothing but the Scripture ; and in this sense the Scripture
is identical in its working with the principium.

The second distinction, referred to above, between the
material of the knowledge of God which is imparted to
us and the way in which that material becomes our own, is
no less important. After the unveiling of the mystery, indi
cated by the former distinction, it lies in the nature of the
case that the individual obtains no part in this salvation
except as member of the organic whole. Noah, Moses and
Samuel received separate revelations, simply because human
ity as such did not yet possess its revelation. But when
once humanity as a whole had received its revelation, and this
was completed, the need for all separate revelation fell away ;
and all mysticism, which even after this still pretends to
receive separate personal revelation, frustrates thereby the
organic ministration of the Lord. He who has lived, lives,
or shall live, after our race in its unity has received its
Christ and its Scripture, has no other way at his disposal,
by which to come to the knowledge of God, except in union
with this central revelation; and in so far as the life-stream
of the Christ propels itself in the Church, and the Scripture
is borne by her as "the pillar and ground of the truth," the
Church of Christ (provided it be not taken as institute) is
the only means of salvation. There is no salvation outside
of her. But however firmly the organic relation both of our
race and of revelation must be maintained, it is not asserted
that the Holy Scripture by itself is enough for the individual.

402 § 73. THIS rUINCiril'M [Div. Ill

This is not the case at all, and he who thinks that the Holy
Spirit really gave the Scripture, but now leaves its appropria
tion to our natural reason, is wofully mistaken. On the con
trary, the Holy Spirit, who gave the Scriptures, is Himself
the perpetual author (auctor perpetuus) of all appropria
tion of their contents l>y and of all application to the indi
vidual. It is the Holy Spirit who, by illumination, enables
the human consciousness to take up into itself the sub
stance of the Scripture; in the course of ages leads our
human consciousness to ever richer insights into its con
tent ; and who, while this process continues, imparts to the
elect of God, as they reach the years of discretion, that
personal application of the Word, which, after the Divine
counsel, is both intended and indispensable for them. Only,
however many-sided and incisive this constant working of
the Holy Spirit may be, it brings no new content (and
herein lies the nerve of this second distinction), no in
creased supply of material, no enlargement of the substance
of the knowledge of God. A believer of the nineteenth
century knows much more than a believer of the tenth or
third century could know, but that additional knowledge is
ever dug from the selfsame gold mine; and that former gen
erations stood behind in wealth of knowledge, can only be
explained by the fact, that in those times the working of the
mine was not so far advanced. This, of course, does not
imply that the former generations fell short in knowledge
of God, but simply, that the development of the human con
sciousness in those times did not make such demands on our
knowledge of God. A child can be equally rich in his God
as the full-grown man, but because the consciousness of the
adult is more richly unfolded, he holds the knowledge of God
likewise in a more richly unfolded form. With the fuller
development of the consciousness of humanity the increase
of insight into the contents of the Scriptures keeps equal
step. But however far this increase of knowledge may
proceed in the future, it will never be able to draw its mate
rial from any other source than from the Holy Scripture.
And it is for this reason, that for the several nations also,

CHAP. II] AND THE HOLY SCRIPTURE 403

and for the individuals among these nations, the rule re
mains valid that the substance of the knowledge of God,
which comes to us from the special principium, is identical
u'ith the Holy Scripture,

This would not be so if the Holy Scripture were merely a
collection of inspired utterances concerning the Being of
God, His attributes, His will and counsel of grace. Then,
indeed, by the side of the realm of the Scripture there
would also lie the realm of facts, both of the leadings of the
Lord and of His miracles, and the knowledge of these facts
could only come to us by tradition. But this is not the
character of the Holy Scripture ; and it is to be deplored
that the Methodistic tendency in particular has degraded
it so much to such a volume of inspired utterances. The
Holy Scripture offers us a photograph of the entire sphere
of life, in which the action of God from the special prin
cipium has appeared, with His activity out of the natural
principium as its natural and indispensable background.
The logical revelation, which directs itself immediately to
our consciousness, does not stand independently by the side of
this photograph, neither is it woven through it, but belongs
to it, and constitutes a part of it. More than or anything else
than this photograph could not be offered us, simply because
facts that lie in the past cannot be alive except in the
memory or in the imagination. For though there is also
a real after-effect of past events in the actual conditions in
which we live, which is, moreover, the no less real activity
which uninterruptedly goes forth from Christ out of heaven
upon His Church, yet the presentation of this double, real
activity and correct insight into it is possible only by a
thorough study of the photograph offered us in the Holy
Scripture. Not as though we would deny that the rich
past, which lies back of the completion of the Holy Script
ures, does contain an innumerable multitude of facts which
you do not find in this photograph, but for this the answer
from John xx. 30 is ever conclusive : that many other signs
therefore did Jesus, but these are written, that ye may be
lieve that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God ; and that

404 § !'•*>. THIS I'KINCII'IUM AND HOLY SCRIPTURE [Div. HI

believing ye may have life in His name. Not a hundredth
part of course is told us of what happened or was spoken
in former times, but here also there was light and shadow,
there was perspective, and even as you take the fruit from
the tree, but not the leaves which presently wither, so also
the ripened fruit of Revelation is offered us in the Holy
Scripture, while all that aided that fruit to ripen has disap
peared in the .shade and sunk away in forgetfulness. This
is incomprehensible to him who thinks that the Scripture
originated by way of accident, but agrees entirely with the
nature of the case for him who believes that the origin of
the Scripture was determined and foreseen in the counsel
of God, and that the distinction between the fruit that was
to be plucked and the leaf that was to wither was given in
the facts themselves in keeping with this purpose of the
Holy Scripture. Hence the reason that we reject tradition,
in which Rome seeks a complement for the Holy Scripture,
is not because we deny that there is an abundance of mate
rial for a very interesting tradition, nor yet alone because
we foster a just doubt concerning the reliability of this
tradition, but rather because such a complement by tradition
is antagonistic to the entire conception of the Scripture. In
that case the Holy Scripture would attain no higher value
than of being itself a part of tradition. Then it no longer
would form a completed whole, an organic unity. Suppose
that after a while letters were to be found of Thomas or of
Philip, or a gospel according to Andrew, you would be bound
to let tiiese parts be added to your Bible. The Bible would
then become an incomplete, contingent fragment of a whole,
and would need to postulate its complement from elsewhere ;
and so the theologic, and therefore the organic and teleologic,
view of the Holy Scripture would pass away in the historic-
accidental. Since this view is in direct conflict with the
view given concerning the Old Testament in Rom. xv. 4,
etc., upon Scriptural ground this preposterous view of the
Holy Scripture may not be tolerated for a single moment,
but the confession must be maintained that so far as the
substance of the knowledge of (iod is concerned, which is

CHAP. II] § 74. SPECIAL PRINCIPIUM AND WRITTEN WOED 405

given to humanity as such, the Holy Bible itself is the proxi
mate and sole cause (principium proximum et unicum) for
our knowledge of God.

§ 74. The Special Principium and the Written Word

The indispensableness of the Holy Scripture, therefore,
rests : (1) upon the necessity that a special principium
should be actively introduced, inasmuch as the working of
the natural principium is weakened or broken ; and (2) upon
the necessity that this special principium should not direct
itself atomistically to the individual, but organically to the
human race. From these two considerations it follows that
an auxiliary-principium is needed, and that a revelation must
be given to humanity as such (i.e. ra> Kocrpw) ; but it does
not follow directly from this that "this special Word of
God to the world " should assume the form of the written
word. It is necessary, therefore, that we inquire into the
peculiar character of the written word, and ask ourselves
why the special Revelation of God to the world needed this
form.

To this we reply with emphasis, that in comparison with
the spoken word the written word is entitled to claim the
four characteristics of durability, catholicity, fixedness and
purity, — four attributes, the first two of which impart some
thing of the Divine stamp to our human word, and the last
two of which form a corrective against the imperfection of
our sinful condition.

Writing by itself is nothing but an auxiliary. If the
power of our memory were not limited, and if our capacity
for communication were universal, the need of writing would
never have been known. The sense of shortness of memory
and our limited ability of communicating our thoughts per
sonally, strengthened by the need of guarding that which has
been spoken or agreed upon from being misrepresented, has,
through a series of gradations, called into life, first, pic-
tographic writing, then idiographic writing, then phono
graphic writing, after that syllabic writing, and finally,
alphabetic writing. Hence writing bears almost entirely a

406 § 74. THE SPECIAL PRINCIPIUM [Div. Ill

conventional and arbitrary character. Only as pure idio-
graphs did it escape from the conventional, and then only upon
the condition of being delineation instead of writing. Writ-

o o

ing, in the real sense of the word, tries to photograph the
somatic part of our human language, in order that by see
ing these photographed signs one person may understand
psychically what has gone on psychically in another person,
or has gone out from his lips. Writing tries to do the same
thing that the phonograph does, but by attaching a meaning,
not to sound, but to root-forms. When Ave have our picture
taken, it is our own face that, with the aid of the light,
draws its counterfeit upon the collodion plate. If, now, it
were possible for our human voice to delineate itself imme
diately in all its inflexions upon paper, we should have abso
lute and organic writing. Since, however, thus far this is
not possible, we must content ourselves with conventional
writing, which is not produced by the voice itself, but by our
thinking mind. It is our thinking mind which watches the
sound and the inflexion of the voice in connection with the
movement of the visible organs of speech, and now indi
cates either the voice-action itself or the content of that
voice-action, by signs, in such a way that when another
person sees these signs he is able to reproduce that same in
flexion of voice and impart to it the same content. The
question whether, with a sinless development, writing would
have run the same course cannot possibly be answered ; but
it is evident that then also something similar would have
taken its place. For then also memory would have been
limited in its power, and the need of communication would
have originated with the sense of distance. Only for the
realm of glory the question can arise whether, in that exalted
state of the life of our spirits, and with its finer organisms,
all such auxiliaries will not fall away. By itself, therefore,
it cannot be said that writing is a need which has only come
as a consequence of sin ; even though it is certain, as will
appear from the last two of the four characteristics mentioned
above, that the need of writing has been intensified in every
way by sin.

CHAP. II] AND THE WRITTEN WORD 407

With reference to the first of these characteristics, it is
readily seen, that writing first of all relieves the spoken word
of its transitoriness. " The word that is heard passes away,
the letter that is written remains." (Verba volant, littera
scripta manet.) Our voice creates words, but lacks the ability
to hold them fast. One word drives the other on. The spoken
word, therefore, bears the character of the transitory and
the changeable, which are the marks of our mortality. It
comes in order to go, and lacks the ability to maintain itself.
It is a Trdvra pel ical ovSev pevei (everything flows and noth
ing remains) in the most mournful sense. And even when,
by the phonograph, it is secured that the flowing word con
geals and is presently liquefied, it gives us at most a repeti
tion of what was spoken or sung, and no more. But this
very imperfection is met by the mighty invention of human
writing. By writing, in its present state of perfection, the
word or thought spoken is lifted above transitoriness. It is
taken out of the stream of time and cast upon the shore,
there to take on a stable form, and after many ages to do the
same service still which it performed immediately upon its
first appearing. The correspondence, which is discovered
by a fellah in a forgotten nook of Egypt and presents us
with the interchange of thought between the then Eastern
princes and the court of Egypt, speaks now as accurately as
three thousand years ago ; and if, after the fall into sin, the
bitter emotions of his soul could have been written down by
Adam, our hearts could sympathize to the last miiiutise with
what went on in Adam so many thousand years ago. Writ
ing, indeed, is human thought set free from the process of
time. By writing, human thought approaches the eternal,
the enduring, and, to a certain extent, impresses upon it
self a Divine stamp. It is noteworthy, therefore, how in
the Holy Scripture the durability and permanence of the
thoughts of God are expressed by the figure of the Book of
Life, the Book of the Seven Seals, etc. Nor is this all.
Not only, thanks to writing, does human thought approach
in a measure the eternal, but also by writing only, on the
other hand, does it meet the demand raised by the unity of

408 §74. THE SPECIAL PHINCIPIUM , Div. Ill

our human race. The whole human race does not live upon
the earth at once. It appears on earth in a succession of
generations, one of which comes and the other passes away.
If the means, therefore, are wanting to perpetuate the
thought of one generation for the others, then thinking be
comes aphoristic, and the unity of the human consciousness
in our whole race is not established. Tradition might lend
some aid so long as those thoughts are few and bear a little-
complicated character, and the restricted form of poetry
might offer assistance so long as those thoughts preferred
the form of images ; but in the course of centuries no
question of unity for our human consciousness could have
been permanent, if Aristotle had had to entrust his word
to memory, or Plato his thesaurus of ideas to memoriter
poetry. Thus, writing alone has created the possibility of
collecting human thought, of congealing it, of handing it
down from age to age, and of maintaining the unity of our
human consciousness in the continuity of the generations.
If, now, the special revelation from God is not destined for
the one generation to which a certain part of the revelation
was given, but for the ivorld, and hence for the generations
of all ages until the end is come, it is evident that it was
necessary for this special revelation to take the form of writ
ing. Only by this written form could it be a revelation to
our race as a whole.

In connection with this stands the second characteristic
which we mentioned; viz. writing is catholic, i.e. universal, in
the sense that, bound by neither place nor nation it overcomes
the limitation of the local. Even the most stentorian voice
does not carry a single spoken word beyond the distance of
one kilometer, and a more extended expression of thought
cannot reach across one-tenth part of this ; but so soon as
the word has been committed to writing, no distance ran
resist or break its power. The written word travels around
the world. He who speaks, may communicate his thoughts
to ten thousand persons at most ; he who writes, to ten mil
lions and more. In the mystery of writing lies, thus, the
wonderful power of overcoming at the same time the two

CHAP. II] AND THE WRITTEN WORD 409

mighty limitations of our human existence, those of time
and place. An important statement by Gladstone, spoken
in the English Parliament after sundown, is printed before
the sun rises again, and in a million copies spread among the
masses, in Europe and America. Dislocation, no less than
time, is a mighty factor that resists the unit-life of our race.
In olden times, when this dislocation was not modified in its
fatal effects by quicker means of communication, the sense of
the sodality of the nations, and in connection with this the
idea of a common humanity, were in consequence very little
alive; and it is only by these quickened means of communica
tion, which greatly augment the effect of the written word,
that now a feeling of international communion has mastered
the nations, and a sense of organic unity permeates all the
articulations of our human race. If now, as was shown
before, the mystery of Revelation consists in this : that our
race, even as it was created of one blood, shall sometime
shine in the realm of glory as one body under Christ as
its head, then it needs no further proof that this catholic
characteristic of writing agrees entirely with the catholic
character of the whole Revelation and the catholic character
of the Church. As writing sets thought free from every
local restriction, special Revelation in like manner, released
from all local and national restrictions, seeks the human
race in the whole world as one organic whole. God has
loved not individuals nor nations, but the world. Only
by writing, therefore, can special Revelation attain its end ;
and in proportion as the development of human conscious
ness has made higher demands, printing and afterward more
rapid communication have augmented this dispersing power
of writing. Writing, therefore, is the means of perpetuating
thought and at the same time of dispersing it, i.e. of making
it universal in the highest sense, and of bringing it within the
reach of all. Writing lends wings to thought. It neutralizes
distance of time and place, and thereby puts upon thought
the stamp of the eternity and of omnipresence. So far as
human thought can formally approach the divine, it owes to
writing alone this higher nobility. For this reason, there-

410 § 74. THE SPECIAL PRIXCIPIUM [Div. Ill

fore, when divine thoughts take pleasure in the garment of
human words, the Scripture is the only form in which they
can rest.

But this does not exhibit in full the excellency of the
Scripture as such, and therefore we mentioned the two other
characteristics of fixedness and purity, which protect the
word of thought against the dangers that threaten from the
results of sin. With respect to tradition we have to con
tend not merely with the limitation of the human memory,
by which so much becomes lost, broken, and impaired, but
almost more still with its multiformity and untrustworthiness ;
and it is against these two dangers that the spoken word is
shielded in the fixedness and accuracy of the written or
printed word.

Every religious sense from its very nature is in need of
fixedness. As long as the divine reflects itself only in the
changing stream of the human, it fails to take hold of us,
simply because this trait of changeableness and movability is
in conflict with the idea of the divinely majestic. The quod
ulique, quod semper may have been pushed too far by Rome,
on the ground of hierarchical by-views, but in the realm of
religion antiquity is of so much more value than the neic and
constantly changing idea, simply because the old makes the
impression of fixedness and of being grounded in itself. So
far now as the sinful mind of man chafes against the divine
revelation, he will always be bound to break this fixedness.
Hence the injurious multiformity in tradition. A little lib
erty, which each successive transmitter allows himself, brings
it to pass that in the course of two or three centuries tradi
tion is wrenched entirely away from the grooves of its fixed
ness. This may occur unconsciously or without ill intent,
but in every case it breaks the working power of the trans
mitted revelation. This is seen in the unwritten tradition,
which from paradise spread among all nations, becoming
almost irrecognizable; this is seen in the traditions committed
to writing at a later date in the apocryphal gospels; this is
seen in the different authority of tradition in the Eastern and
Western churches. It is this same infatuation against the

CHAP. II] AND THE WRITTEN WORD -ill

fixedness of the truth, which now appears again in the oppo
sition against every confessional tie, and no less in the loud
protest against the written character of revelation, and this
in a time which otherwise emphasizes so strongly the written
for the entire Cultur. On the other hand, it is seen in the
holy books, which every more highly developed form of
religion has created for itself, in India, China, among the
Persians and Islam, etc., how the pious sense which, from
the ever changing, seeks after a basis of fixedness, applies
writing, as soon as found, as a means of resistance against
the destructive power of what is individual and multiform
in tradition. What Paul wrote to the church at Phil. iii. 16,
"whereunto we have already attained, by that same rule let
us walk," is unchangeably the fundamental trait of all re
ligion, which does not end in individual wisdom or fanati
cism, but organically works in upon our human life as such.
And since writing only, and in a more telling sense, the
press, is able to guarantee to the Divine thoughts which are
revealed to us that fixed form, it is not by chance, but of
necessity, that special Revelation did not come to us by way
of oral tradition, but in the form of the Scripture.

This brings with it the purity, which likewise can be guar
anteed by writing only, among sinful men, and this only in a
limited sense. Since Divine revelation directs itself against
the mind and inclination of the sinner, sinful tendency could
not be wanting, to represent that revelation differently from
what it was given. Not merely did forgetfulness and indi
vidualism threaten the purity of tradition, but the direct
effort also wilfully to modify what was revealed according to
one's own idea and need; which psychologically is done the
sooner, if one knows the revelation only from tradition, and
thus thinks himself entitled to mistrust its certainty. One.
begins by asking whether the revelation might not have been
different, and ends in the belief that it was different. If
printing in its present completeness had been in existence
from the times of the beginning of revelation, it would have
been the surest safeguard against such falsification. If what
was spoken at the time had been taken down by stenography

412 S 74. SPECIAL I'KlNClPiUM AND WRITTEN WORD [Dn. Ill

and i>ceii circulated at once in thousands of copies by the
press, we would have been so much more certain than now
of the authenticity of what is handed down. Since, however,
printing, as a strengthened form of writing, did not exist
at that time, handwriting alone could guard against falsifica
tion. And though we must grant that this safeguard is far
from being absolute, yet it is certain that the written tradition
has a preference above the oral, which defies all comparison,
and thus, in order to come down to us in the least possibly
falsified form, the Divine revelation had to be ivritten.

To him who thinks that the Revelation came from God,
but that the writing was invented by man, the relation
between that Revelation and its written form is of course
purely accidental. He, on the other hand, who understands
and confesses that writing indeed is a human invention, but
one which God has thought out for us and in His own time
has caused us to find, will arrive at the same conclusion with
ourselves, that also in His high counsel the Divine revelation
is adapted to writing, and writing to the revelation. We
do not hesitate to assert that human writing has reached
its highest destiny in the Scripture, even as the art of print
ing can attain no higher end than to spread the Word of
God among all peoples and nations, and among those nations
to put it within the reach of every individual. To this still
another and no less important spiritual benefit attaches it
self, in so far as printing (and writing in part) liberates men
from men and binds them to God. So long as the revela
tion is handed down by oral tradition only, the great mul
titude was and ever remained dependent upon a priestly order
or hierarchy to impart to them the knowledge of this revela
tion. Hence there ever stood a man betAveen us and God.
For which reason it is entirely natural that the Roman hier
archy opposes rather than favors the spread of the printed
Bible. And it behooves us, in the very opposite sense, to
confess, that the Divine revelation, in order to reach immedi
ately those who were called to life, had to assume the form
of writing, and that only by printed writing could it enter
upon its fullest mission of power.

CHAI-. II] § 7-5. INSPIRATION 413

§ 75. Inspiration. Its Relation to the Principium Essendi

If we have not failed entirely in our endeavor to appre
hend the special principium in its full significance, and if
thereby we intend to maintain the confession of the theology
of the sixteenth century, that the only principium of theol
ogy is the Holy Scripture, the question now arises, — by what
action the Holy Scripture came forth from this principium
in such a way that at length the principium and the product
of this principium (i.e. the Holy Scripture) could be inter
changed. Theologically taken, this action lies in inspiration,
and therefore in this section we proceed to the study of this
majestic act of God, to which we owe the Holy Scripture.
It is not enough for Encyclopedia to declare apodictically
that the Holy Bible is the principium of theology. Such a
declaration is sufficient, when one writes an Encyclopedia of
a science whose principium is self-evident. A medical Ency
clopedia does not need to give an account in the first place
of the fact that pathological conditions appear in the human
body, nor of the fact that in nature there are reagents against
these conditions. But for theological Encyclopedia the mat
ter stands differently. It has to investigate a matter as its
object, whose principium is not given normally in the crea
tion, but has abnormally entered into what was created.
The right understanding, therefore, of this science demands
an explanation of this principium, its action and its product,
in their mutual connection. This principium is the energy
in God by which, notwithstanding the ruin worked in the
cosmos by sin, He carries out His will with reference to that
cosmos ; and more properly as a principium of knowledge it
is that energy in God, by which He introduces His theodicy
into the human consciousness of the sinner. The product of
this principium, which is placed objectively before the human
consciousness, is the Holy Scripture. And finally the action
by which this product comes forth from this Divine energy
is inspiration. Hence this inspiration also must be explained.

It should, however, not be lost from view, that this inspi
ration is no isolated fact, which stands by itself. He who

414 § 75. INSPIRATION. ITS RELATION [Div. Ill

takes it in this sense arrives at some sort of Koran, but not
at the Holy Scripture. In that case the principium of
knowing (cognoscendi) is taken entirely apart from the
principium of being (essendi), and causes the appearance
of an exclusively intellectual product which is outside of
reality. We then would have an inspiration which dic
tated intellectually, and could not communicate to us any
thing but a doctrine and a law. Entirely different, on the
other hand, is the action of this Divine energy, which,
in spite of sin, carries out the plan of the Lord in and by
the cosmos. Since indeed sin is not merely intellectual
in its character, but has corrupted the whole nature of man
and brought the curse and disorder even upon nature out
side of man, this Divine energy could not overcome the
opposition of sin, except it directed itself to the whole
reality of our human existence, including nature round
about us. Hence this Divine energy constitutes in part
(see § 07) the principium essendi, and from it comes miracle,
— not miracle taken as an isolated phenomenon, which ap
pears without causal connection with the existing world ;
but miracle, as the overcoming, penetrating working of the
Divine energy, by which God breaks all opposition, and in
the face of disorder brings His cosmos to realize that end
which wras determined upon in His counsel. It is from
the deeper basis of God's will, on which the whole cosmos
rests, that this mysterious power works in the cosmos; breaks
the bands of sin and disorder, which hold the cosmos in their
embrace ; and centrally from man so influences the entire
life of the cosmos, that at length it must realize the glory
intended for it by God, in order in that glory to render unto
God what was the end of the entire creation of the cos
mos. Every interpretation of the miracle as a magical
incident without connection with the palingenesis of the
whole cosmos, which Jesus refers to in Matt. xix. 28, and
therefore without relation to the entire metamorphosis which
awaits the cosmos after the last judgment, does not enhance
the glory of God, but debases the Recreator of heaven and
earth to a juggler (70779). This entire recreative action of

CHAP. II] TO THE PRIXCIPIUM ESSEXDI 415

the Divine energy is one continuous miracle, which shows
itself in the radical renewal of the life of man by regenera
tion, in the radical renewal of the life of humanity by the
new Head which it receives in Christ, and which finally
shall bring to pass a similar radical renewal of life in nature.
And because these three do not run loosely side by side, but
are bound together organically, so that the mystery of regener
ation, incarnation and of the final restitution forms one whole,
this wondrous energy of re-creation exhibits itself in a
broad history, in which what used to be interpreted as inci
dental miracles, could not be wanting. Because our soul is
organically connected with our body, and this body unites us
organically to nature, a palingenesis, which should limit itself
to the psychic domain, without at the same time working an
effect upon the body and upon the cosmos, is simply unthink
able. The fuller explanation of this belongs from the nature
of the case to dogmatics. Here it is sufficient that the atten
tion is directed to the significance, which the recreative
Divine energy, also in so far as it appears as the principium of
being (essendi), has for the life of our consciousness, and there
fore for the principium of knowing (cognoscendi). The tie
that binds thought to being and being to thought operates
also here. There is not a revelation by the dictation of a
doctrine and law, and by its side a revelation by what is
called miracle ; but the revelation in the world of reality and
the revelation in the world of thought are interwoven. The
thought explains the reality (as, for instance, prophecy the
Messiah), and again from the reality the thought receives its
content (for instance, in the gospels). The preparation of
the consciousness for the thought (illuminatio) proceeds
from the reality of the palingenesis, and again in faith (as the
act of the consciousness) the reality of the new life finds its
utterance. In a like sense inspiration does not lie isolated
by the side of the Divine energy in history, but is organically
united to it and forms a part of it. If in the meantime it is
demanded, that theology as science indicate its principium,
it has to deal from the nature of the case as such with the
principium of knowing only, and cannot reckon with the

4Ui §75. INSPIRATION. ITS KKLATIOX [Div. Ill

reality, and therefore with the principium of being, except
so far as the facts and events have been transformed before
hand into a thought, i.e. have become a narrative. It is in
the glass ot our human consciousness that reality reflects its
image : by the human word this image becomes fixed ; and it
is from this word that the image of the reality is called up in
the individual consciousness of him who hears or reads this
word. A reality, such as the recreative Divine energy has
woven through the past as a golden thread, Avas not intended
only for the few persons who were then alive, and whom it
affected by an immediate impression, but was of central and
permanent significance to humanity. It could not be satis
fied with simply having happened; it only effected its purpose
when, transformed into an idea, it obtained permanence, and
even as the Divine ivord, that accompanied it, and in the unity
which joined this word to the facts of history, it could be
extended from generation to generation. If now our human
consciousness had stood above these facts and these Divine
utterances, the common communication by human tradition
would have been enough. But since our human conscious
ness stood beneath them, and, left to itself, was bound to mis
understand them, and was thus incapable of interpreting the
correct sense of them, it was necessary for the Divine energy
to provide not only these facts and utterances, but also the
image of this reality so as to insure re-creation likewise in the
world of our consciousness. This provision was brought
aboul by the Divine energy from the special principium in
inspiration in a twofold way : (1) b}* means of the word in
the past transforming the Divine doing into thought, and thus
introducing it into the consciousness of those who were then
alive; and (2) by bringing to us this entire past, together with
these Divine utterances, as one rich idea, in the Holy Scripture.
Thus inspiration is not added to this wondrous working
of the Divine energy, but flows, and is inseparable, from it.
It does not come from the principium of creation, but from
that of re-creation. Though, indeed, it finds an analogy in
the communion of paradisiacal man with his Creator, and its
connecting-point in the capacity of paradisiacal man for that

CHAP. 11] TO THE PR1NC1PIUM ESSENDI 417

communion, inspiration, in the narrower sense, may never be
confounded with this communion. Inspiration, as it here
appears, is not the working of the general " consciousness of
the divinity" (Gottesbewusstsein). It does not rise from
the seed of religion. It may not be confounded with the
utterance of the mystically disposed mind. Neither may it
be placed on a line of equality with the way in which God
will reveal Himself to the blessed in the realm of glory.
Appearing as an abnormal factor in the work of re-creation,
it bears a specific character, belongs to the category of the
miraculous, and is consequently of a transient nature. As
soon as the object for which it appears has been attained, it
loses its reason for being, and ceases to exist. Though it
must be granted that the illumination, and very much more,
was indispensable, in order that the fruit of inspiration might
ripen to the full ; yea, though from everything it appears that
the Holy Spirit ever continues to this day more fully to ex
plain the rich content of the fruit of inspiration in the con
fession of believers and in the development of theology ; yet
in principle all these operations of the Spirit are to be dis
tinguished from inspiration in its proper sense. In the coun
sel of God before the creation of the world, there was a
provision for the carrying out of His plan concerning the
cosmos, in spite of the outbreak of sin. In that counsel of
God, all things were predestined in organic relation, which
to this end were to be done by the Divine energy, and this,
indeed, severally : on the one hand, what was to be done
centrally in and for our entire race, and, on the other hand,
what was to be done in order that this central means might
realize its purpose with the individual elect. Inspiration
directs itself to this central means ; the individual is left to
illumination. This central means is to be taken in this
threefold way : First, as an idea in Divine completeness, lying
predestined in the counsel of God ; secondly, as from that
counsel it entered into the reality of this cosmos and was
ever more fully executed ; and thirdly, as it was offered to
the human consciousness, as tradition under the Divine
guarantee, and by inspiration as the human idea.

418 § 75. INSPIRATION. ITS RELATION [Div. Ill

Hence the thought, that it comes to an end, is not foreign,
but lies in the nature of inspiration. This is not arbitrary, but
flows from the fact that our human race forms an organism,
and that, therefore, here, as with all organisms, distinction
must be made between that which centrally directs itself to all
and that which individually limits itself to single persons.
And if this distinction is noted, then it follows from this
with equal force, that that which centrally goes out to all
must appear in that objective form in which it could continue
from age to age and spread from nation to nation. That
which is individual in its character may remain subjective-
mystic in its form, but not that which is intended to be
centrally of force for all times and nations. In order to
exist objectively for all, this revelation of necessity had to
be completed. As long as it was not finished, it missed its
objective character, since it still remained attached to the
persons and the life-sphere in which it had its rise. Only
when it is completed, does it become independent of those
persons and of that special life-circle, and obtain its absolute
character. An ever-continuous inspiration is therefore only
conceivable, when one mistakenly understands by it mystical
inworking upon the individual, and thus takes the work of
re-creation atomistically. Then, however, inspiration fails of
all specific character and loses itself in the general " est Deus
in nobis, agitante calescimus illo (Lo, God is in our soul,
we kindle when He stirs us); " while re-creation is then
imagined as coming from phantasy, and is no longer suitable
for humanity, which only exists organically. In all organic
development there are two periods, — the first, which brings
the organism to its measure or limit, and the second, which
allows it, once come to its measure, to do its functional work.
The plant, animal and man first grow, till the state of matu
rity has been reached, and then that growth ceases. An or
ganic action which restlessly continues in the same way, is a
contradiction in terms. Considered, therefore, from this
point of view, it lies entirely in the organic character of
revelation, that it passes through two periods, the first of
which brings it to its complete measure, and the second

CHAP. II] TO THE PRINCIPIUM ESSENDI 419

of which allows it, having reached its measure, to perform
its work. And this is what we face in the difference between
inspiration and illumination. Inspiration completed the reve
lation, and, appearing in this completed form, the Revelation
now performs its work.

This first period (that in which Revelation attained its
measure by inspiration, and which lasted so many centuries)
does not flow by itself from the principium of knowledge.
If you think that revelation consisted merely in a communi
cation by inspiration of doctrine and law, nothing would
have prevented its being finished in a short time. Since, on
the other hand, revelation did not merely make its appear
ance intellectually, but in life itself, and therefore dramati
cally, the inspiration, which only at the end of this drama
could complete its action, was eo ipso linked to that process
of time which was necessary for this drama. This would
not have been so if the special principium had merely been a
principium of knowing, but must be so since simultaneously
it took in life. The long duration of the first period of
Revelation has nothing, therefore, to surprise us ; but this
long duration should never tempt us to allow that first period
to pass unmarked into the second. However many the ages
were that passed by before the incarnation, that incarnation
came at one moment of time. The new drama which began
with this incarnation is relatively of short duration ; and
when this drama with its apostolic postlude is ended, the
Revelation acquires at once its cecumenic working, and thereby
shows, that its first period of its becoming, is now completed.
Thus inspiration obtains a sphere of its own, in which it
appears ; a definite course which it has to run ; a boundary of
its own, which it cannot stride across. As the fruit of its
completion, a new condition enters in, which shows itself in
the cecumenic appearance of the Church, and this condition
not only does not demand the continuance of inspiration, but
excludes it. Not, of course, as if a sudden transition took
place which may be indicated to the very day and hour.
Such transitions are not known in spiritual things. But if
the exact moment escapes our observation in which a child

420 §76. INSPIRATION IN [!>:Y. Ill

ceases its growth and begins its life as an adult, there is,
nevertheless, a moment, known to God, in which that growth
performed its last act. In like manner, we may assert that
these two periods of revelation lie, indeed, separated from
each other by a point of transition known to (rod, even
though we can only approximately indicate the beginning
of the second period.

§ 76. Inspiration in Connection with Mirade*

So far as the special principium in God directs itself as
principium of knowledge to the consciousness of the sinner,
it brings about inspiration (with its concomitant illumina
tion); on the other hand, as principium of being (essendi),
the spiritual and material acts of re-creation commonly called
miracles (n'lfcOS3 and Tepara). Since, however, the world of
thought and the world of being do not lie side by side as two
separate existences, but are organically connected, inspiration
formally has in common with the wonderful (87^) that which
to us constitutes the characteristic of the miracle. Conse
quently the formal side of the miracle need not be considered
here.

Very unjustly at the mention of miracles one thinks almost
exclusively of those in the material domain, and almost with
out a thought passes by the spiritual miracles. This of course
is absurd. The creation (if we may so call it) of a mind,
such as shone forth in the holy apostle John, or such as in the
secular world sparkled in a Plato, is, if we make comparison,
far moi-e majestic than even the creation of a comet in the
heavens ; and in the same way the re-creation of a person inim
ical to God into a child of God is a profounder work of art
than the healing of a leper or the feeding of the five thousand.
That nevertheless the material miracle captivates us more, is
exclusively accounted for by the fact, that the spiritual miracle
is gradually observed after it is ended, and only in its effects,
while the material miracle, as a phenomenon, is immediately
visible to the spectator. In order not to be misled by this
one-sided appearing in the foreground of the material miracle,
it is necessary that we lirst explain the connection between

CHAP. II] CONNECTION WITH MIRACLES 421

the spiritual and the material miracle. The undeniable fact,
which in this connection appears most prominently, is, that
from the days of paradise till now the spiritual miracle of
palingenesis is ever unceasingly continued, and occurs in
every land and among all people, while the sphere of the
material miracle is limited and confined to time and place.
The question of psychico-physical processes, which are often
spoken of as miracles, is here passed by. Whether the
study of hypnotism will succeed in lifting the veil which
still withholds from our sight the working of soul upon soul,
and of the soul upon the bod}*, time will tell; but in any case
it appears that in this domain, under definite circumstances,
there are forces at work which find their causa causans in
our nature, and therefore do not belong to the category of
the miracle. With reference to the real miracle, on the other
hand, the Holy Scripture reveals to us that there is a palin
genesis, not only of things invisible but also of things seen.
The Scripture nowhere separates the soul from the body, nor
the body from the cosmos. Psyche, body and world form
together one organic whole. The body belongs to the real
existence of man as truly as his psyche, and for human exist
ence the cosmos is an inseparable postulate. To the state of
innocence, i.e. to that existence of man, which was the im
mediate product of creation, there belonged not only a holy
soul, but also a sound body and a glorious paradise. In the
state of sin the unholiness of the psyche entails therefore the
corruption of the body, and likewise brings the curse upon
the cosmos. Even as this organic connection of these three
elements appears both in the original creation and in the state
of sin, it continues to work its effect also in the re-creation.
Here also the effect begins with the psyche in regeneration,
but will continue to operate to the end in the palingenesis of
the body, and this body will see itself placed in a re-created
cosmos delivered from the curse. If now regeneration con
sisted in a sudden cutting loose of our psyche from every
connection with sin, so that it were transformed at once into
an absolutely holy psyche, not merely potentially, but actually,
the palingenesis of the body would enter in at once, and if this

422 § 70. INSPIRATION IN [Div. Ill

took place simultaneously in all respects, the palingenesis of
the cosmos would immediately follow. This, however, is not
so. Since our race does not enter life at one moment, but in
the course of many centuries, and exists, not individualistically
as an aggregate of atoms, but in organic unity, the transition
from potentia to actus cannot take place except gradually
and in the course of many centuries; and since each man has
no cosmos of his own, but all men together have only one and
the same cosmos, our ancestors (see Heb. xi. 40) could not be
perfect without us, i.e. without us they could not attain unto
the end of their palingenesis, and therefore the apostle Paul
does by no means expect his crown at present, nor yet im
mediately after his death, but only at the last day, and then
simultaneously with all them also that love the appearing of
Christ (2 Tim. iv. 8).

The very order, which is founded in the nature of our race,
brings it to pass, that the re-creation of the body and of the
cosmos tarries till the end. If thus the miracle as such, in
that special sense in which we here consider it, had not ap
peared until the parousia, the saving power would have
brought about none other but a spiritual effect. There would
have been regeneration, i.e. palingenesis of the psyche; but
no more. A power would have become manifest capable of
breaking psychically the dominion of sin; but that the same
power would be able to abolish the misery, which is the result
of sin, would have been promised in the word, but would
never have been manifested in the deed, and as an unknown
x would have been a stone of offence upon which faith would
have stumbled. The entire domain of the Christian hope
would have remained lying outside of us as incapable of
assimilation. This is only prevented by the fact, that already
in this present dispensation, by way of model or sample, the
power of palingenesis is shown within the domain of matter.
In that sense they are called "signs." As such we are shown
that there is a power able to check every result of sin in the
material world. Hence the rebuke of the elements, the
feeding Avithout labor, the healing of the sick, the raising of
the dead, etc. ; altogether manifestations of power, which

CHAP. II] CONNECTION WITH MIRACLES 423

were not exhausted in the effort at that given moment to
save those individuals, for this all ratio sufficiens was want
ing ; but which once having taken place, were perpetuated
by the tradition of the Scripture for all people and every
generation, in order to furnish a permanent foundation to the
hope of all generations. For this purpose they could not
create a new reality (Lazarus indeed dies again), but tended
merely to prove the possibility of redemption in facts ; and
this they had to do under two conditions: (1) that succes
sively they should overcome every effect of sin in our human
misery; and (2) that they should be a model, a proof, a
a-qnelov, and therefore be limited to one period of time and
to one circle. Otherwise it would have become a real palin
genesis, and they would have forfeited their character of
signs. There were hundreds in and about Jerusalem whom
Jesus might have raised from the dead. That Lazarus
should be raised is no peculiar favor to him; for after once
having died in peace, who would ever wish to return to this
life in sin? but it was to glorify God, i.e. to exhibit that
power of God which is also able to abolish death. This is
what must be shown in order that both psychically and
physically salvation shall be fully revealed. Thus only does
hope receive its indispensable support. And in this way
also by these signs is regeneration immediately bound into
one whole with the palingenesis of the body and of the cosmos
as object of faith. What Paul writes of the experiences in
the wilderness : " All these things happened unto them by
way of example; and they were written for our admonition"
(1 Cor. x. 11), is true of all this kind of miracles, of which
with equal authority we may say: "Now all these things
happened by way of example; and they were written for
our admonition."

The destructive and rebuking miracles are entirely in line
with this. With the parousia belongs the judgment. The
misery, which as the result of sin now weighs us down, is
yet by no means the consummation of the ruin. If now that
same power of God, by which the palingenesis of soul, body
and of cosmos shall hereafter be established, will simultane-

424 § 76. INSPIRATION IN [Div. Ill

ously, antl as result of the judgment, bring about the destruc
tion as well of soul, body and cosmos in hell, then it follows
that the signs of salvation must run parallel with the ziyns
of the destruction, which merely form the shadow alongside
of the light.

If both these kinds of miracles, however strongly con
trasted with each other, bear one and the same character at
heart, it is entirely different with the real miracles, which do
not take place as ensamples (ruTTi/coi?), but invade the world
of reality. Only think of the birth of Isaac, of the birth of
Christ, of his resurrection, of the outpouring of the Holy
Spirit, etc. The motive of these miracles, which form an
entire class by themselves, lies elsewhere, even in this, that
the re-creation of our race could not be wrought simply by
the individual regeneration and illumination of the several
elect, but must take place in the centrum of the organism of
humanity. And since this organism in its centrum also does
not exist psychically only, but at the same time physically,
the re-creation of this centrum could not be effected, except
by the working being both psychical and physical, which is
most vividly felt in the mystery of the incarnation. The
incarnation is the centrum of this entire central action, and
all miracles which belong to this category tend to inaugu
rate this incarnation, or are immediate results of it, like the
resurrection. All clearness in our view of the miracles
must be lost, if one neglects to distinguish between this
category of the real-central miracles and the category of
the typical miracles in the periphery ; or if it be lost from
sight, that both these real as well as these typical miracles
stand in immediate connection with the all-embracing mir
acle that shall sometime make an end of this existing order
of tilings.

If, now, it is asked to what category inspiration belongs, it
is evident at once that inspiration bears no typical, but a real,
character, and belongs not to the periphery but to the cen
trum. Itself psychical by nature, it mmt, meanwhile, reveal
its working in the physical domain as well : (1) because the
persons whom it chose as its instruments existed physically

CHAP. II] CONNECTION WITH MIRACLES 425

also ; (2) because it sought its physical crystallization in the
Scripture ; and (3) because its content embraced the physical
also, and, therefore, often could not do without the manifesta
tion. Nevertheless the psychical remains its fundamental
tone, and as the incarnation brought life into the centrum
of human being, inspiration brings the knowledge of God into
human knowledge, i.e. into the central consciousness of our
human race. From this special principium in God the saving
power is extended centrally to our race, both by the ways
of being and of thought, by incarnation and inspiration.

From this it appears that formally the miracle bears the
characteristic of proceeding forth from the special, and not
from the natural principium, in God. The miracle is no
isolated fact, but a mighty movement of life, which, whether
really or typically or, perhaps, in the parousia teleologically,
goes out from God into this cosmos, groaning under sin and
the curse ; and that centrally as well as peripherally, in
order organically to recreate that cosmos and to lead it
upward to its final consummation. Are we now justified in
saying that miracle antagonizes nature, violates natural law,
or transcends nature? We take it, that all these representa
tions are deistic and take no account of the ethical element.
If you take the cosmos as a product wrought by God, which
henceforth stands outside of Him, has become disordered,
and now is being restored by Him from without, with such a
mechanical-deistical representation you must make mention
of something that is against or above nature ; but at the
penalty of never understanding miracle. This is the way
the watchmaker does, who makes the watch and winds it,
and, when it is out of order, repairs it with his instruments ;
but such is not the method pursued in the re-creation. God
does not stand deistically over against the world, but by
immanent power He bears and holds it in existence. That
which you call natural power or natural law is nothing but
the immanent power of God and the will of God immanently
upholding this power, while both of these depend upon His
transcendent counsel. It will not do, therefore, to represent
it as though the world once created miscarried against the

426 § 76. INSPIRATION IN [Div. Ill

expectation of God, and as though, after that, God were bent
upon the invention of means by which to make good the loss
He had suffered. He who reasons like this is no theologian ;
i.e. he does not go to work theologically, but starts out from
the human representation, viz. that as we are accustomed to
manufacture something, and after we see it fail try to repair
it, so he carries this representation over upon God. And so
you derive the archetype from man and make God's doing
ectypal ; and this is not justifiable in any circumstance, since
thereby you deny the creatorship in God. Our Reformed
theologians, therefore, have always placed the counsel of God
in the foreground, and from the same counsel from which the
re-creation was to dawn they have explained the issue of cre
ation itself. Even the infra-lapsarian Reformed theologians
readily acknowledged that the re-creation existed ideally, i.e.
already completely in the counsel of God, before the creation
itself took place. What they called the appointment of a
Mediator (constitutio mediatoris) preceded the first actual
revelation of sin. Hence there is no twofold counsel, so that
on the one hand the decree of creation stands by itself, to which,
at a later period, the decree of salvation is mechanically added;
but in the deepest root of the consciousness of God both are
one. Interpreted to our human consciousness, this means
to say, that the creation took place in such a way, that in
itself it carried the possibility of re-creation ; or, to state it
more concretely still, man is not first created as a unity that
cannot be broken, then by sin and death disjointed into parts
of soul and corpse, and now, by an act of power mechanically
applied from without, restored to unity ; but in the creation
of mail itself lay both the possibility of this break and the
possibility of the reunion of our nature. Without sin, soul
and body would never have been disjoined by death ; yet
in the creation of man in two parts (dichotomy) lay the
possibility of this breach. But, in like manner, if our body
had merely a mechanical use in actuality, and did not develop
organically from a potentia or germ, reunion of what was
once torn apart would have been impossible. Just because,
in the creation, this potential-organical was characteristic of

CHAP. II] CONNECTION WITH MIRACLES 427

our body, the redemption also of the body is possible and its
reunion with the separated soul.

Thus one needs merely to return to the counsel of God,
which lies back of creation and re-creation, and embraces
both in unity, in order once for all to escape from the
mechanical representation of a Divine interference in an
independently existing nature. Sin and misery will, without
doubt, continue to bear the character of a disturbance, and
consequently all re-creation the character of providence and
restoration, but both creation and re-creation flow forth from
the selfsame counsel of God. This is most clearly apparent
from the fact, that re-creation is by no means merely the
healing of the breach or the repairing of what was broken
and disturbed. Spiritually, regeneration does by no means
restore the sinner to the state of original righteousness
(justitia originalis). He who has been regenerated stands
both lower, so far as he still carries the tendrils of sin inwoven
in his heart, and higher, so far as potentially he can no more
fall. Likewise physically, the resurrection of our body does
by no means return to us an Adamic body, but a glorified
body. Neither will the parousia bring back to us the old
paradise, but a new earth under a new heaven. Hence the
matter stands thus, that in the counsel of God there were two
ways marked out, by which to lead soul, body and world to
their organic consummation in the state of glory: one apart
from sin, by gradual development, and the other, through sin,
by a potentially absolute re-creation ; and that, furthermore,
in creation everything was disposed to both these possibilities.
If nature is taken in its concrete appearance, it is no longer
what it was in the creation, but its ordinance is disturbed;
and if this disturbed ordinance is accepted as its real and
permanent one, then indeed, its re-creation, in us as well as
about us, must appear to us as a violence brought upon it, for
the sake of destroying the violence which we inflicted upon it
by sin. If, on the other hand, you take nature as it appears in
creation itself, and with its foundations lies in the counsel of
God, then its original ordinance demands that this disturbance
be reacted against, and it be brought to realize its end (re'Xo?) ;

428 §77. INSPIRATION ACCORDING TO THE [Div. Ill

and for this purpose the action goes out from the selfsame
counsel of God, from which its ordinance came forth. In
God and in His counsel there is but one principium, and if
we distinguish between a special principium or one of grace,
which presently works in upon the natural principium, we
only do this in view of the twofold providence, which must
have been given, in the one decree of creation, just because
the cosmos was ethically founded. That the working of these
two principia form a twofold sphere for our consciousness,
cannot be avoided, because the higher consciousness, which
reduces both to unity, will only be our portion in the state
of glory. This antithesis, however, is not present with God
for a moment. He indeed works all miracles from the
deeper lying powers, which were fundamental to the crea
tion itself, without at a single point placing a second creation
by the side of the first. Wherever the Scripture speaks of a
renewed, it is never meant that a new power should originate,
or a new state of being should arise, but simply that a new
shoot springs from the root of creation itself, that of this
new shoot a graft is entered upon the old tree, and that in
this way the entire plant is renewed and completed. Crea
tion and re-creation, nature and grace, separate, so far as
the concrete appearance in the practical application is con
cerned, but both in the counsel of God and in the poten
tialities of being they have one root. The miracle, therefore,
in its concrete form is not from nature, but from the root
from which nature sprang. It is not mechanically added
to nature, but is organically united to it. This is the rea
son why. after the parousia, all action of the principium
of grace flows back into the natural principium, brings
this to its consummation, and thus, as such, itself dis
appears.

§ 77. Inspiration according to the Self -Testimony of the

Scripture

The naive catechetical method of proving the inspiration
of the Holy Scripture from 2 Tim. iii. 10 or 2 Pet. i. 21,
cannot be laid to the charge of our Reformed theologians.

CHAP. II] SELF-TESTIMONY OF THE SCRIPTURE 429

They did not hesitate to expose the inconclusiveness of such
circle-reasoning. They appeal indeed to this and similar
utterances, when it concerned the question, what interpreta
tion of inspiration the Holy Scripture itself gives us. And
that was right. As the botanist cannot learn to know the
nature of the life of the plant except from the plant itself, the
theologian also has no other way at command, by which to
learn to understand the nature of inspiration, except the
interrogating of the Scripture itself. Meanwhile, there is this
difference between a plant and the Scripture, that the plant
does not speak concerning itself, and the Scripture does. In
the Scripture dominates a conscious life. In the Scripture
the Scripture itself is spoken about. Hence, two ways pre
sent themselves to us by which to obtain an insight into the
matter : (1) that we, as with every other object which one
investigates, watch for ourselves, where in the Scripture the
track of inspiration becomes visible ; but likewise (2) that
we interrogate those, who in the Scripture declare them
selves concerning the Scripture. And, of course, we must
begin with the latter. Inspiration is a specific phenomenon,
strange to us, but which was not strange to those holy per
sons, called of God, who were themselves its organs. From
them, in the first place, we must learn what they taught
concerning inspiration. In them the spirit, which animates
the entire Scripture, consciously expresses itself. Not with
equal clearness in all. Here also we find a gradual differ
ence. In the absolute sense it can be said of the Christ only,
that the self-consciousness of the Scripture expressed itself
completely in Him. When Christ was on earth the entire
Scripture of the Old Testament was already in existence;
which renders it of the utmost importance to us to know
what character Jesus attributed to the inspiration of the Old
Covenant. If it appears that Christ attributed absolute
authority to the Old Covenant, as an organic whole, then
the matter is settled for every one who worships Him as his
Lord and his God, and confesses that He can not err. This
proof, however, from the nature of the case, is without force
to him who does not thus believe in his Saviour, and for him

430 § 77. INSPIRATION ACCORDING TO THE [Div. Ill

there is no demonstration possible. He who stands outside
of the palingenesis cannot entertain any other demonstration
but that which is derived from nature and reason in their
actual form ; and how would you ever be able from these to
reach your conclusions concerning the reality of that which
does not pretend to spring either from nature or from rea
son ? Hence they only, who stand in conscious life-contact
with the life-sphere of Christ can accept the force of demon
stration, which lies in the testimony concerning the Script
ure by Jesus, as its highest organ. Even then, however, it
must be clearly held in view, that the reports of the Gospels
concerning what Jesus said about the Old Testament, appear
at this point of our argument as reports only, and not as testi
mony already authenticated. The value to be attached to this
tradition concerning the utterances of Jesus, springs (while
taken as yet outside of faith in inspiration) not from the bare
communication of these utterances, but (1) from their multi
formity ; (2) from the stamp of originality which these
utterances bear ; (3) from their being interwoven with the
events described ; and (4) from their agreement with the
utterances of Jesus' disciples, whose epistles have come to
us. If such reports of Jesus' ideas about the Scripture were
very rare, if they appeared for their own purposes only, or if
it was their aim to formulate a certain theory of inspiration,
then (always reckoning without faith in the Scriptures) they
would not possess such a historic value to us ; but since there
is no trace of such a design, and no insertion of a system is
thought of, and only the use is shown which Jesus made of
the Scripture amid the most varied circumstances and with all
sorts of applications, from these reports it is historically cer
tain, for him also who does not reckon with inspiration, that
Jesus judged the Scripture thus, and not otherwise.

Tli is value, moreover, rises in importance by the fact, that
that which Jesus appears to have thought about the Old
Testament, agrees with the conception which, before his
appearing, was prevalent concerning the Old Covenant. He
introduces no new way of viewing it, but seals the concep
tion that was current, and characterizes himself only by the

CHAP. II] SELF-TESTIMONY OF THE SCRIPTURE 431

original, i.e. not borrowed, application of the dominant man
ner of view. It was but natural, therefore, that the theory
of accommodation became current a century ago, and that
on the ground of these accommodations all value was dis
puted to these utterances of Jesus. But by accepting the
possibility of accommodation with Christ, He eo ipso is
already forsaken as the Christ ; which is the more apparent,
when one hears how the inspiration-theory, which was cur
rent at the time and which still forms an essential part of
the confession in all Christian Churches, was execrated as
being unworthy of God, antagonistic to the character of the
spiritual, and as barren and mechanical. At present, there
fore, the opponents of this theory themselves acknowledge
that they would do violence to their consciences and commit
sin, if for the sake of the masses they carried themselves as
though they put faith in this theory. This they deem them
selves not warranted in doing. How, then, will you accept
such a sinful accommodation of what is unworthy of God and
in conflict with the character of spiritual life, in Him whom
you worship as the incarnate Word ? The accommodation-
theory, still tenable in days when the diverging theologians
themselves accommodated, and considered it no evil but duty,
became untenable with the Christ from the moment when
all such accommodation was rejected as moral weakness. He
who perseveres, nevertheless, in his application of this theory
to what Jesus said concerning the Scripture, attacks not the
Scripture, but the Deity of Jesus and even His moral char
acter. Even the pretence that Jesus accommodated in good
faith, while this would be bad faith for us, does not help
matters. If Jesus did not know that the conception which
He accepted was untrue, there was no accommodation ; if
Jesus did know this, then all such accommodation, in spite
of better knowledge, was sin also in Him.

To come to the point, we emphasize in the first place, that
Jesus looked upon the several writings of the Old Testament
as forming one organic whole. To Him they did not consti-

432 §77. INSINUATION ACCORDING TO THE [Div. Ill

tute a collection of products of Hebrew literature, but He
valued them as a holy unity of a peculiar sort.

For this \ve refer in the first place to John x. 34, 35 : the
Scripture cannot be broken. This utterance is of threefold
importance. First, the whole Old Testament, from which
Psalm Ixxxii. 6 is here quoted, is entitled by the singular
ypa(f)tj. by the article 77 is indicated as a whole of a peculiar
sort, and to this whole an absolute character is attributed
by the " cannot be broken." Secondly, it is out of the
question that by rj <ypa(f)ij can have been meant not Scripture,
but spiritual revelation, because the " word of God " in what
immediately precedes is clearly distinguished from the jpa(f)jj.
And thirdly, it is impossible that ypatyr) should indicate the
quotation in hand, and not the Old Testament, since a con
clusion ayenerali ad particular e follows, and just in this form :
The Scripture cannot be broken ; this saying from Psalm
Ixxxii. 6 occurs in the Scripture ; hence Psalm Ixxxii. 6 also
cannot be broken. Which, moreover, is confirmed by the
expression " in your Law." He who quotes from the Psalms,
and then declares that it is found in the Law, shows that he
uses the name Law for the entire Old Testament, and thus
views this Testament as one organic whole.

This unity appears likewise from Matt. xxi. 42, where
Jesus asks: "Did ye never read in the Scriptures?" and then
quotes Psalm cxviii. 22, 23. No citation, therefore, from
two different books, but a citation from one book, that of
the Psalms, even two verses from the same Psalm. This
shows ihat " the Scriptures " here does not refer to the
Psalms, but to the whole Old Testament, in which the Psalms
occur, and likewise that Jesus comprehends this Old Testa
ment under the name of ypa^ai as a unity, and by the article
al isolates it from all other <ypa(f)ai. The same we find in Matt.
xxii. 29, in the words: "Ye do err, not knowing the Script
ures, nor the power of God." Here, also, al ypa<f>ai appears
absolutely as the designation of the entire Holy Scripture
then in existence. Keeping no count with those Scriptures
is indicated as the cause of their erring, and the Scripture,
i.o. the Old Testament, is here coordinated with " the power of

CHAP. II] SELF-TESTIMONY OF THE SCRIPTURE 433

God." In like manner we read in Matt. xxvi. 54 : "How
then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must
be ? "' Here also the Scriptures of the Old Testament ap
pear as one whole, which is called at ypatyai, and it is a
Scripture, such as offers the program of what was to come,
and gives that program with such authority, that the fulfil
ment of it could not fail. This program was not contained
in this word or that, but in the whole Scripture, which here
appears as organically one. Compare with this the similar
utterance in Mark xiv. 49: " But this is done that the Script
ures might be fulfilled." That at another time Jesus indi
cated the same unity by the law, appears from John x. 34,
and appears likewise from John xv. 25, where the Lord quotes
from Psalms xxxv. and Ixix., and declares concerning this,
that that is written "in their law." And if proof is called
for, that Jesus viewed this unit not only as organically one,
but represented to Himself the groups also in this unit as
organically related, then look in John vi. 45, where He quotes
from Isaiah liv. and from Jeremiah xxxi., and affirms, not
that this occurs as such in Isaiah and Jeremiah, but in the
prophets. This subdivision also of the Scripture, which is
called " the prophets," is thus indicated by the article as one
organic whole, which as such offers us the program of the
future.

In the second place, it appears that Jesus recognized of the
Scriptures of the Old Testament in the sense of a single
whole of authoritative writing, that a word, or a fragment
of it was authoritative, and that as <ypa<f>ij, or yeypafM/jLevov,
or yeypaTTTai it possessed that high condition, that men could
make their appeal to it. The use of these expressions does
not point to a citation but to an authority in the sense in
which Pilate exclaimed: "What I have written I have
written," which he did not say as author but as governor,
clothed with discretionary authority. Neither the yeypaTrrai
nor the yeypappevov can be thought without a subject from
whom it goes forth, and this subject must have authority to
determine something, simply because he writes. If now
as in this instance, is used in an entirely absolute

434 § 77. INSPIRATION ACCORDING TO THE [Div. Ill

sense, and without the least indication of this subject, it im
plies that this subject is the absolute subject in that circle.
In the state yeypaTrrai expresses that something is law ; and
in the spiritual domain yeypciTTTai indicates that here God
speaks, prophesies, or commands. Since in this sense Jesus
again and again uses all sorts of utterances from the Old
Testament as decisive arguments in His reasoning, it appears
that Jesus viewed the Old Testament as having gone forth
from this absolute subject, and therefore as being of imperial
authority. That Jesus really uses the Scripture of the Old
Testament in this way, as "judge of the cause" (iudex lilis)
appears, for instance, from Mark xii. 10 : " And have ye not
read even this Scripture ? " and then there follows a citation
from Psalm cxviii. By Scripture here the Old Testament is
not meant ; but to this definite utterance from Psalm cxviii.
23 the character is attributed of being a Scripture. Likewise
in Luke iv. 21, where, after having read a portion from Isaiah
Ixi., He said to the people in the synagogue at Xazareth,
" To-day hath this Scripture been fulfilled in your ears," by
Scripture He does not refer to the Book, but to this particu
lar utterance, and honors this utterance itself as jpa^rj.
Whether, in John vii. 38, ypa(j>^ refers to the entire Scripture
or to a given text, cannot be determined ; but we meet with
a similar use of Scripture in John xiii. 18, where, in view of
the coming betrayal by Judas, Jesus says : " That the Script
ure may be fulfilled," and then adds : " He that eateth my
bread lifted up his heel against me." Even though it does
not read here 77 >ypa<f)j] avrr), it is very clear that here again
the utterance itself is called ypacf)^, otherwise it would need
to read, 77 ypaffry TJTIS Xeyet. Then ypa<f>i] would refer to the
Scripture ; but not now ; now it must refer to the text quoted.
Of yeypaTTTaioT of yeypa^/jievov this needs no separate proof,
since these expressions admit of no doubt. When, in Matt,
iv. 4 and the following verses, Jesus places each time His "it
is written" over against the temptation, it implies of itself
that Jesus not merely quotes, but appeals to an authority
which puts an end to all contradiction. Without this sup
position the appeal to Deut. viii. 3, etc., has no meaning.

CHAP. II] SELF-TESTIMONY OF THE SCRIPTURE 435

When such an appeal is introduced, not by saying: Thus
spake Moses, but by the formula " It is written," it admits no
other interpretation than that, according to the judgment of
Jesus, this word derived its Divine authority from the fact
that it is written; in the same way in which an article of
law has authority among us, because it is in the law. To
attribute a weaker significance to this is simply ^71ogical and
subverts the truth. Even though one may refuse to attribute
such an authority to the Old Testament Scripture, it may
never be asserted that Jesus did not attribute this to them; at
least so long as it is not affirmed that none of these utterances
of Jesus are original with Him ; which even the most strin
gent criticism has not as yet asserted.

But Jesus goes farther. It is not simply that He attributes
such an authority to this and other utterances of the Old
Testament, but in these utterances He attributes that author
ity even to single words. This we learn from His argument
with the Sadducees concerning the resurrection from the
dead, Matt. xxii. 32. From the fact that God, centuries
after the death of the patriarchs, still reveals Himself as the
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Jesus concludes that these
three patriarchs were still in existence, since God could not
call Himself their Gf-od if they were no more alive. This
demonstration would have no ground if by a little addition
or modification in the construction, "I am the God of thy
father," were intended in the preterite. Then God would
have been their God. This expression, in its very form, is
nevertheless so authoritative for Jesus, that from this form of
the saying He concludes the resurrection of the dead. Jesus
extends this authority even to a letter, when, in Luke xvi.
17, He says that it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away,
than for one tittle of the law to fail; which, as appears from the
preceding verse, does not refer to the ten commandments,
nor even to the laws adduced, but to the law and the prophets,
i.e. to the entire Scripture. This tittle, which referred to
the apostrophized iod, was the smallest letter in the apographa,
and the saying that even no tittle shall fail, vindicates the
authority even to the letter. In Matt. xxii. 41, the strength

436 § 77. INSPIRATION ACCORDING TO THE [Biv. Ill

of Jesus' argument hangs on the single word Lord. '• The
Lord said unto my Lord ; " yea, even more precisely, on the
single iod. The emphasis falls on the "my Lord." In John
x. 35 the entire argument falls to the ground, except the one
word "gods" have absolute authority. In the same way it
can be shown, in a number of Jesus' arguments from the
Scripture, that in the main they do not rest upon the general
contents, but often upon a single word or a single letter.
The theory therefore of a general tendency in the spiritual
domain, which in the Old Testament should merely have an
advisory authority, finds no support in Jesus.

The same result is reached when notice is taken of Jesus'
judgment concerning the contents of Old Testament Script
ure. Without the spur of any necessity, entirely voluntarily,
in Luke xvi. 29 Jesus puts the words upon Abraham's lips
to the rich man : " They have Moses and the prophets ; let
them hear them." This is said in answer to the prayer that
some one might be sent to earth in the name of God to
proclaim the will of God. This is denied by the remark,
that in the earth they already are in possession of a Divine
authority, even the Old Testament. The " hear them "
here has the same significance as the " hear him '' at the
baptism of Jesus ; it means, to subject oneself to Divine
authority. Jesus appears to attribute entirely the same
character to the content of the Old Testament as often as
He refers to the fact that the Scripture "must be ful
filled," and " cannot be broken." All that men have thought
out or invented can be corrected by the result, can be seen
from the outcome to have been mistakenly surmised, and is
therefore susceptible to being broken. The only thing not
susceptible to this is the program God Himself has given,
and given in a definite form. The need, the must, which
Jesus again and again applies to His passion, and applies to
particulars, is only in place with the supposition of such a
program for His passion given by God. Not to see this is to
be unwise, and shows that one is " slow of heart to believe,"
Luke xxiv. 25. It needs scarcely a reminder that this need
of fulfilment is by no means exhausted in a general sense, as

CHAP. II] SELF-TESTIMONY OF THE SCRIPTURE 437

though there were merely a certain necessity and, in a cer
tain sense, a typical parallelism between that which befell
the faithful of the past and of the present, but that Jesus
applies His rule with equal decision to that which is appar
ently accidental. Thus in Luke xxii. 37, when He says : " I
say unto you, that this which is written must be fulfilled
in me, And he was reckoned with transgressors : for that
which concerneth me hath fulfilment," here, indeed, Jesus
points to a concrete and very special <ye<ypa[j.ijievov, which ex
cept in a very rare instance did not intensify the bitterness
of the martyr's death. The simultaneous crucifixion with
Jesus of two malefactors lacks, therefore, all inward neces
sity. And yet of this very definite yeypa/ji/jLevov Jesus pur
posely declares that it must be fulfilled in Him, and as a
motive of thought He adds, that what has been prophesied
concerning Him cannot rest before it has accomplished its
end.1 In Matt. xxvi. 54 Jesus declares that He does not
exercise His omnipotence, nor invoke the legions of angels
to save Him from His passion, since the prophecy of the Old
Testament forbids Him doing this. Beyond all doubt it is
certain that the prophetic program must be carried out, and
in case He were to oppose it, " how then should the Scriptures
be fulfilled, that thus it must be ? " Thus Jesus acknowledges
that in prophecy there lies before us a copy of the counsel
of God concerning Him, and for this reason the realization
of this program could not remain wanting. Jesus expresses
this same thought even more strongly in John xiii. 18, where
He characterizes the betrayal by Judas not only as unavoida
ble that the Scripture may be fulfilled, that he who ate bread
with Him should lift up his heel against Him, but even
adds : " From henceforth I tell you before it come to pass,
that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am he,"

1 The exegesis : For my affairs have come to an end, which Meyer too
defends, is justly rejected ; (1) because it loses from view the reference of
the rAos to Te\€ffdr)va.i ; (2) because such a saying would have had sense in
the general announcement of His death, not in the special indication of some
thing that would accompany His death ; and (3) because it should have had
to read : that the end was near or at hand. That all things have an end is
an argument all too weak to claim support.

438 § 77. INSPIRATION ACCORDING TO THE [Div. Ill

and thus imposed upon them His insight, that this prophecy
referred to Him, as Divine authority.

This, however, may not be taken as though in the Old
Testament Jesus had merely seen a mosaic from which He
took a separate Scripture according to the occasion. On the
contrary, the Old Testament is one whole to Him, which as
a whole refers to Him. " Ye search the Scriptures," said He
(John 5 : 39) to the Scribes, " because ye think that in them
ye have eternal life; and they are they ivhich bear witness of
me." As a whole the Scripture points thus concentrically to
Him. Hence His citation of two utterances of the Old
Testament in one dictum, as for instance in Matt. ix. 13,
from Hosea vi. 6 and from Micah vi. 8 ; which is only ex
plicable from the point of view that back of the secondary
authors (auctores secundarii) of each book you recognize
one first author (auctor primarius), in whose plan and
utterance of thought lies the organic unity of the several
Scriptures. The secondary author is sometimes named, but
only with the quotations of those utterances which did not
come forth from them, but which were directed to them, as
for instance in Matt. xiii. 14, where we read : " And unto
them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah," and then follows
Isaiah vi. 9, "concerning those who seeing do not perceive,"
which was spoken by God to Isaiah in the vision of his call.
We find the same in Matt. xv. 7, 8, where Jesus says : " Ye
hypocrites, well did Isaiah prophesy of you, saying : This
people honoreth me with their lips, etc.," in which the " Me "
itself indicates that Isaiah did not speak these words, but
God. That this conception embraced not merely the pro
phetical, but likewise the historical, books appears from the
constant reference to what occurs in the Old Testament con
cerning Noah, Abel, Abraham, Sodom, Lot, the queen of Sheba,
Solomon, Jonah, etc., all of which are historic references
which show that the reality of these events was a certainty
to Jesus, even as they were a certainty to those to whom He
spake. If it be true, therefore, that in no given instance
Jesus utters an express declaration concerning inspiration,
it appears sufficiently clearly, that lie considered the Script-

CHAP. II] SELF-TESTIMONY OF THE SCRIPTURE 439

ures of the Old Covenant to be the result of a Divine act
of revelation, the original and real subject of which was
"God" or "the Spirit."

But there is more ; it can be shown that Jesus Himself
has given utterance to the idea of inspiration, and, on the
other hand, that He, by no single word, has opposed the
ideas which at that time existed concerning inspiration. The
idea of inspiration is, that God by His Spirit enters into
the spirit of man, and introduces into his spirit, i.e. into
his consciousness, a concrete thought, which this man could
not derive from himself nor from other men. This very
idea we find even put antithetically, in Matt. xvi. 17,
where Jesus says to Peter that his confession of Him as the
Christ, the Son of the living God, is no product of what
he himself has thought or other people had whispered
in his ear ; flesh and blood taken here as the human, in an
tithesis to God, have not imparted this knowledge to him ;
it has come to him by revelation, even from the Father who
is in heaven. That this idea of inspiration did not limit
itself to the quickening of a certain disposition or perception,
but in the conception of Jesus implied also the inspiration
of conscious thoughts, appears sufficiently clearly from Luke
xii. 12, where Jesus says : " For the Holy Spirit shall teach
you in that very hour what ye ought to say." This does not
prove that Jesus explains the Old Testament to have origi
nated in this same way, but it shows that there was nothing
strange to Jesus in the idea of such an inspiration, that He
considered it by no means unworthy of God, and that He
raised its reality above all doubt. And if we connect with
this the fact, that the contemporaries of Jesus explained the
Scriptures of the Old Covenant from such an inspiration,
and that Jesus nowhere contradicted this representation, but
rather confirmed it by His use of the Old Testament, then no
one has the right to combat, by an appeal to Jesus, such an
inspiration of the Old Testament as one less worthy of God.
From the above it rather appears that Jesus viewed the
Old Testament in the same way as His contemporaries and
as the Christian Church has done throughout all aq-es

440 § 77. INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURE [Div. Ill

iii nil its official confessions, and views it to this day. By
which we do not mean to say that the later outworking of
this conception may not become open to severe criticism,
but from it, nevertheless, the result may and must be drawn
that to appeal to the Old Testament as to a decisive Divine
authority, as is still done this day by those who hold fast to
the Scripture, finds not merely a support in the example of
Jesus, but became prevalent in the Christian Churches by
His example and upon the authority of His name, and by
His example is ever yet maintained in the face of all dis
solving criticism ; not as the result of scientific investiga
tion, but as the fruit of a higher inworking in the spiritual
consciousness.

The objection to this, derived from Matt. v. 21-45, scarcely
needs a refutation. In this pericope, the Lord declares very
emphatically that the ancients have said thus and so, and
that He puts His sayings over against these. But this
does not form an antithesis between Jesus and the Old
Testament ; on the contrary by His accurate exegesis He but
maintains the Old Testament over against the false exegeses
of the Sanhedrim of His day. In this connection Jesus
speaks nowhere of a Scripture, but of an oral tradition,
and of sayings ; and in this oral tradition of the ancients
the commandment had either been limited to its letter, or
weakened by addition, or falsified by an incorrect antith
esis, and what was a Divine dispensation had been made
to be a fixed rule. Against this Jesus ranges Himself with
the spiritual interpretation of the law. That a man must
not look upon a Avoman to desire her was the simple applica
tion of the tenth commandment to the seventh, in connection
with Job xxxi. 1 and Psalm cxix. 37. Likewise, the love
of an enemy is not put by Jesus as something new above or
against the Old Testament, but the narrow and pregnant
meaning given by the Sanhedrin to the expression neighbor
is combated by Jesus in the spirit of Proverbs xxv. 21. It
is, indeed, entirely inconceivable how the absurd idea that
Jesus here placed Himself in opposition to the Old Testa
ment, could be entertained for a single moment, by those

CHAP. II] § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES 441

who have studied the connection. Just before this pericope,
in this same address of our Lord, it is said that he who
had broken one of these least commandments stood guilty ;
and that He was come, not to destroy the Scripture of the
Old Covenant, but to fulfil these by "His doctrines, life and
passion." The warning, not to think that Jesus draws the
sword against the Old Testament, is expressly added here.

In closing let it be noted, that for three years Jesus had
been most narrowly watched by the Sanhedrin, and every
word He spoke had been carefully sifted. At that time there
were two holy things in Israel : their Scripture and their
temple. Of these two Jesus gave up the temple, of which
He said that not one stone would be left upon the other;
while, on the contrary, of the Scripture He declared, that no
jot or tittle of it shall pass till all shall be fulfiled. Concern
ing His speech against the temple, complaint was made against
Him, though the form of the charge was unjust. If He had
uttered a single word against the Scripture of the Old Testa
ment, He would certainly have been similarly accused. With
reference to this, however, you observe no charge, not even
a weak reproach, and from this it may be inferred, that in
this matter of the Scripture His enemies had no fault to find
with Him.

§ 78. The Testimony of the Apostles

The self-testimony of the Scripture lies so much concen
trically in Jesus, that only in connection with His judgment
has the testimony of the apostles any real value. His disci
ples were His followers. If with reference to the Old Testa
ment Jesus had paid homage to a method of viewing it which
diverged from the then current one, the disciples would not
have followed the common conception, but the diverging
conception of Jesus. If, from their ministry, it appears that
they themselves adhered to the current conception, it may be
inferred from this that they were at no time warned against
it by Jesus, that He had rather confirmed it, and Himself
had not departed from it. The testimony of the apostles,
therefore, has this value, that it throws further light upon

442 § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES [Div. Ill

Jesus' own conception, and confirms the result of the former
section.

Of the apostles, also, it is not difficult to show that they
were familiar with the idea of inspiration and that they held
it. This appears most strongly from Acts ii. 4: "And they
were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and began to speak with
other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance." Now
a7ro(f)0eyye<r0ai is to utter an audible sound. Without solv
ing the question whether by " other tongues " languages of
other peoples are to be understood, or sounds of an entirely
peculiar sort, in either case the apostles brought forth sounds
which were not produced from their own consciousness, but
were the product of an action which went out upon them from
the Holy Ghost. This is inspiration in the fullest sense of
the word. Thus we read in Acts viii. 29 : '• And the Spirit
said unto Philip, Go near, and join thyself to this chariot."
It does not say that this thought arose in him, but that a
speaking took place ; and where it is our point to know the
conception which was current in the apostolic circle, we must,
of course, be careful to note their way of expressing them
selves. Of the Jews, it is said in Rom. iii. 2, " That they were
entrusted with the oracles of God." Tlio-revOr/vat implies
that to you, as ruler, or manager, or steward, something is
committed which does not belong to you, has not been pro
duced by you, but is the property of another subject, and
over which you are placed in a position of responsibility.
Of the grain which he himself has raised, the farmer cannot
say that it is committed to him ; this is only true of the grain
which was raised by another, and is stored in his barn.
Hence, the apostolic representation is not that thoughts, but
that "• utterances " (Xcryta) were given to them for safe-keeping
and care, which were not original with themselves, but had
another as subject, author and owner. And that other subject
is named, for they are called u the oracles of God.'' In 1 Cor.
vii. 40, after having given a rule for matrimony, the apostle
says, " and 1 think that I also have the Spirit of God." There
is, therefore, no question here of a mural excellence, nor yet
of more holiness, but of an insight into the will of God. God

CHAP. II] § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES 443

alone can decide the question of marriage ; the only question
for us is to know the will of God, and, by his statement, Paul
claims to possess that knowledge, on the ground that he, as
well as the writers of the Old Testament and other apostles,
had received the Holy Ghost. That this exegesis is correct,
appears from 1 Thess. iv. 9 ; cf . verse 2. In verse 2, he had
said : " For ye know what charges we gave you," and after
an instruction in the principles of these charges, he follows
it up with these words, in verse 8 : " Therefore he that
rejecteth, rejecteth not man, but God, who giveth his Holy
Spirit unto you." Thus he assumes that his ordinances are
the clear expression of God's will ; that for this reason they
are divinely authoritative ; and he explains this from the
fact that a work of the Holy Spirit has taken place in them
or on behalf of the church. Of Moses, it is written in
Heb. viii. 5, that he was admonished of God when he was
about to make the tabernacle : " See that thou make all
things according to the pattern that was shewed thee in the
mount." To him, therefore, had come an utterance from
the oracle, for such is the meaning of /ce^/ar/^aTto-rat, accord
ing to the conception which was then current in the apos
tolic circle ; something that did not come up from himself,
but was given him from without ; it referred to a very con
crete affair, to wit: that the plan for the tabernacle was not
to be designed by himself, but had been brought to him from
outside. In James v. 10, we read that the prophets " spake in
the name of the Lord," which implies that what was spoken
by them was not binding in virtue of the authority of their
own person or insight, but was spoken by them in the name
of Christ Himself; which either assumes a fanatical pre
sumption, or, since the apostle does not mean this, can only
be explained by the idea of inspiration. In Rev. xxii. 17-20,
it is said that Christ bears witness to that which, by exclu
sively Divine authority, is written in the Apocalypse (to the-
words of the prophecy of this book), so that adding to or
taking away from the things written in this book involves the
penalty of eternal loss. According to 1 Pet. i. 12, the preach
ing of the apostles is done " by the Holy Ghost sent forth from

444 § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES [Div. Ill

heaven"; even as it was "the Spirit of Christ" who in the
prophets did signify beforehand (Trpo^aprvpo^evov). Even
though the iv TrvevpaTi point to a different modality from the
7rponapTvp6/j,evov, both expressions, nevertheless, in their con
nection refer to one and the same idea of inspiration, which
receives its more general description in 2 Pet. i. 21, by the
authentic declaration that prophecy did not find its origin in
the " will " of the prophets themselves, but in the fact, that
they, as "men of God" spoke that which entered into their
consciousness while "they were being moved by the Holy
Ghost : " a1 representation which was evidently applied by
them, even though in modified form, to the entire Scripture
of the Old Testament, as appears from the " all Scripture is
theopneustic," in 2 Tim. iii. 16. The fact, therefore, that
the apostles held the idea of inspiration, and applied it to the
Old Testament, admits of no difference of opinion.

In the second place, it must also be noted that the apostles,
also, did not look upon the Old Testament as a collection
of literaiy documents, but as one codex, which was organi
cally constructed and clothed with Divine authority. That
unity lies already expressed in the Traaa ypa(f>ij of 2 Tim. iii. 16,
which does not mean the ivliole Scripture but every Scripture,
and hence does not emphasize the unity only, but simultane
ously the organic unity. The same thought lies in 1 Pet. i.
12 : " To whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves,
but unto you, did they minister these things." First, all the
prophets are here taken under one head, and to their collec
tive labor the character is attributed, not of its being a work
of their own, over which they have the right of disposal, but
of its being a labor which they have performed with another
purpose, which lay outside of them, and which was deter
mined by God. According to Heb. i. 1, it is not human
insight, but God Himself, which spake to the fathers when
they were spoken to by the prophets, and however much this
took place "by divers portions and in divers manners," it all
belonged together, formed one whole, and together consti
tuted God's testimony to the fathers. The apostolic manner
of quoting confirms this. They also do not quote by the name

CHAP. II] § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES 445

of the author, but as ypa(f)^ and jeypairrac. In Rom. iv. 17,
proof is furnished by " as it is written " ; in Rom. x. 11, the
phrase, " for the Scripture says," is conclusive. By the words,
" according as it is written," in Rom. xi. 8, all contradiction
is cut off. This shows, indeed, that according to the apostolic
representation, the entire Old Testament forms one whole,
which is organically connected, and the content of which is
authoritative, because it appears in this codex. Even the
prayer of Elijah is quoted in Rom. xi. 2, as "What the
Scripture saith," after which the answer of God to his prayer
is mentioned as o xprujLaria-fid? (the Divine response), and
thus distinguished from the excitement of his own spirit.
Especially characteristic in this respect is the extensive quo
tation in Rom. iii. 10-18, which is referred to as one con
tinuous argument, and yet is constructed from no less than
six different chapters ; viz. Ps. xiv. 1-3, Ps. v. 9, Ps. cxl. 3,
Ps. x. 7, Isaiah lix. 7, and Ps. xxxvi. 1. These parts are
introduced by a <ye<ypa7rTai, " it is written," and explained by
the " what things soever the law saith, it speaketh to them
that are under the law." Pey/oaTrrcu as the perfect tense,
especially in a quotation composed of so many parts, is even
stronger than <ypct(f>r), because it is equivalent to what we call
a law: "law enacted is sacred" (lex lata, lex sancta est).
reypmrrai implies not only that it occurs or is found in the
Scripture, but that as an expression of truth it bears the Divine
seal. In the same way, after a quotation from the Psalms and
Isaiah, the " what things soever the law saith " convincingly
indicates that no importance is attached to Isaiah nor to
David, but simply to the fact that it occurs in the holy
codex. In these quotations the apostles do not confine
themselves for support to the authority of pericopes or
extended passages, but base their argument equally well
upon a single word from the Old Testament ; one may
almost say upon a single letter. In Gal. iii. 16, the entire
argument rests upon the singular " seed " ; if in the original
one letter had been written differently, and the plural had
appeared, the entire apostolic argument would have lost its
force. The same you find in 1 Pet. iii. 5, 6, where the

44G § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES [Div. Ill

exhortation rests upon the fact that Sarah called her hus
band "lord." In the apostolic circle, no such quotations
could have been made, if the conviction had not been preva
lent that inspiration extended even to the word and to the
form of the word ; which connection between form and con
tent, Paul also confirms for himself, when in 1 Cor. ii. 13,
he declares : " "Which things also we speak, not in the words
which man's wisdom teaches, but which the Spirit teaches ;
comparing spiritual things with spiritual." In this state
ment, indeed, the " human " and the " pneumatic " cannot
stand over against each other as the intellectual and the
mystical. He also bears witness instrumentally through his
mind; his speaking, also, is the expression of intelligence,
mostly calculated to address the understanding rather than
the emotions. The " pneumatica," therefore, cannot intend
anything else but the fountain from which the impulse for
his utterances proceeds, and that fountain, he says, does not
lie in man, but in the Spirit, and thus in a power which
affects him from without.

In the third place it must be conceded, that in the apos
tolic circle also the Old Testament was considered as the
predestined transcript of God's counsel, of which the instru
mental author has, often unconsciously, produced the record,
and which, as being of a higher origin, has Divine authority.
This appears clearly in Acts ii. 24, 25, where Peter says : "It
was not possible that He should be holden of death." And
why does he deem this impossible ? Because Jesus was the Son
of God ? Undoubtedly for this also ; of this, however, Peter
makes no mention, but states as the only reason that it was
thus written in Ps. xvi. : " Neither wilt thou give thy Holy
One to see corruption." Hence the "impossibility" rests
upon the fact that the opposite to this was written in the Old
Testament ; an argument which suits only with the supposi
tion that the Old Testament furnishes us witli the program of
what must happen according to God's counsel and will. To
that counsel and to that foreknowledge of God he refers us
definitely in what immediately precedes : " Him being deliv
ered up by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of

CHAP. II] § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES 447

God." Of a similar tendency is what -we read in Acts i. 16,
where Peter says : " It was needful that the Scripture should
be fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost spake before by the mouth
of David." The thought here quoted is not from David,
but from the Holy Ghost, even though the Holy Ghost made
use of the mouth of David by which to utter it, and because
the Holy Ghost took this thought from the counsel of God,
it had to be fulfilled. In Matt. xiii. 34, 35, the apostle
Matthew inserts the observation, that Jesus had to speak in
parables, "that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by
the prophet." In a similar way the apostle John inserts his
" that the Scripture might be fulfilled " in John xis. 24, and
elsewhere. And all these expressions of " must needs be,"
" it is necessary," " was not possible," " that the Scripture
might be fulfilled," etc., have no meaning unless it was be
lieved in the apostolic circle as an undoubted fact, that the
Old Testament presents us the Divine program of things to
come, with such certainty as to render it entirely trustworthy.
Hence there is no hesitancy in announcing God the Holy
Spirit as the speaking subject in the Old Testament. Acts
vii. 6, " And God spake on this wise " ; Rom. ii. 4, " But
what saith the answer of God unto him ? " Heb. i. 6, " When
he bringeth in the firstborn into the world, he saith"; Heb.
i. 13, " But of which of the angels hath he said at any time ";
Acts i. 16, " the Scripture . . . which the Holy Ghost spake
before by the mouth of David"; Heb. x. 15, "And the Holy
Ghost also beareth witness to us ; for after he hath said . . .
saith the Lord " : expressions which are used not only when it
concerns a saying of God (dictum Dei), but also when God
is spoken of in the third person, as for instance Heb. iii. 7,
" Wherefore, even as the Holy Ghost saith, To-day if ye shall
hear his voice," or with the mention of facts, as in Heb. ix. 8,
" the Holy Ghost this signifying, that the way into the holy
place hath not yet been made manifest."

The stringing together of quotations from different books,
such as appears in Acts i. 20, Rom. xi. 8, 26, xv. 9, 1 Tim.
v. 18, etc., shows equally clearly, that in the estimation of
the apostles the human authors fall entirely in the back-

448 § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES [Div. Ill

ground. Such quoting is only conceivable and warranted
by the supposition that all these sayings, however truly they
have come to us by several writers, are actually from one
and the same author ; exactly in the same way in which one
quotes from the works of the same writer or from the articles of
the same lawgiver. That this was indeed the apostolic appre
hension appears more clearly still from the fact, which they
state : that the words of the Old Testament often contain more
than the writers themselves understood. In Rom. iv. 23 it is
said of the words from Gen. xv. 6, that " it was reckoned
unto him for righteousness," did not refer to Abraham only,
as the writer must have intended, but also to us. In Rom.
xv. 3, Ps. Ixix. 9 is quoted, and what David exclaimed in a
Psalm, which cannot stand before the ethical judgment of
many, is cited as coming from the Messianic subject ; and
yet this quotation furnishes the apostle the occasion for the
general statement, "that whatsoever things were written
aforetime were written for our learning, that through pa
tience and through comfort of the Scriptures we might have
hope." This, of course, could not have been the intention
of the instrumental authors. David sang when his heart
was full, Jeremiah prophesied when the fire burned in his
bones. Thus this intention is thought of as in the " mind of
the first author," and it is only by divine direction, that the
Scriptures are thus predestined to realize their given pur
pose in the Church of all the ages. This is applied not only
to moral and doctrinal dicta, but also to the historical parts.
" Do ye not hear the Old Testament (rbv vo^ov) ? " Paul
asks in Gal. iv. 22 ; " For it is written, that Abraham had
two sons"; and of this he says: "Which things contain an
allegory," i.e. a meaning was hidden in all this, which was
neither foreseen nor intended by him who wrote these words.
The same appears in Heb. v. 11, 12, where the exposition of
the priesthood after the order of Melchizedek is introduced,
an exposition in which numerous deductions are made from
the common historic narrative, which were not intended by
the writer of Genesis. The understanding of this deeper
sense is called in verse 11 "hard of interpretation"; it does

CHAP. II] § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES 449

not lie at hand, and deeper insight only discovers it. And
yet, this deeper insight is no play of magic with the word.
One may readily acquire it if only one is not dull of hearing.
If one is but mature, he is able of himself to enjoy this
strong meat, for they "by reason of use have their senses
exercised." It is therefore a mysterious meaning not in
cluded in it by the writer, but by the Holy Spirit, which now
from behind is revealed by that same Holy Spirit to those
who are perfect. A no less broadly prepared example of this
is given in 1 Cor. x. 1-18, where a spiritual-typical significance
is attached to the crossing of the Red Sea and to the events
in the wilderness, which could not have been intended by the
writer of the narrative. That meaning was beyond him,
and directed itself from the mind of the primary author to
us " upon whom the ends of the ages are come." Now only,
because the antitypical has come, can the typical be under
stood.

It can scarcely be denied, therefore, that in the apostolic
circle, the conviction was prevalent that, without contro
versy, the Old Testament had come into existence as a
sacred codex by Divine inspiration, and must be viewed as
clothed with Divine authority. This shows that Jesus, who
knew this conviction, did not contradict it, but put His seal
upon it in His intercourse with His disciples. The apostolic
use of the Old Testament tends to give us a better knowl
edge of Jesus' judgment concerning this codex, and, so far
as in Jesus the self-testimony of the Scripture expresses
itself most clearly and correctly, to make us know how the
Scripture itself desires us to esteem it. The different objec
tions that have been raised against this apostolic use of the
Old Testament, particularly upon the ground of Gal. iv. 21-
24 and 1 Cor. x. 1—13, cannot here be examined. The ques
tion, indeed, what use the apostles have made of the Old
Testament, is not critical but historic. The critical exami
nation, therefore, of these objections is not in place in Ency
clopedia, but in the disciplina canonica. One objection,
however, may be considered here, because it really sheds light
upon the use made by the apostles of the Holy Scripture of

450 § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES [Div. Ill

the Old Testament. Their quotations are by no means always
a literal translation of the original. This would create no
surprise if they had not understood Hebrew, but it does with
a man like Paul, who was well versed in the original text.
The fact that they wrote in Greek to Greek-speaking churches
is, from the nature of the case, no sufficient explanation.
This, no doubt, explains why as a rule they followed the
Greek translation which they knew was in use among their
readers, but states no ground for their own departure from
the original, nor yet for their following of that translation
in places where it was incorrect. They who think that
the writers of the apostolic circle wrote without assistance
(suo Marte), can scarcely come to any other conclusion
than that this mode of procedure was faulty and rested
upon mistake, either voluntary or involuntary, but in no
case pardonable. The matter assumes an entirely differ
ent aspect, however, when one starts out from the posi
tion that these writers themselves were inspired in a way
analogous to the writers whose text they quoted. He who
cites the language of another must quote literally, but a
writer who quotes himself is bound to the actual content
only, and not to the form of what he wrote, except in the
face of a third party. If, therefore, it is the same Holy
Spirit who spoke through the prophets and inspired the
apostles, it is the same primary author (auctor primarius)
who, by the apostles, quotes himself, and is therefore entirely
justified in repeating his original meaning in application to
the case for which the quotation is made, in a somewhat
modified form, agreeably to the current translation. Suppose
an oration you have delivered has been translated into Eng
lish, and that you appear before an American audience which
knows your position only from that English translation, will
it not be natural, in so far as your original meaning comports
with that translation, to quote from what your audience
knows ? Any one would ; and to do so is logical. And,
therefore, from this point of view, there is nothing strange
in it that in the apostolic circle the auctor primarius quotes
from his own words agreeably to the accepted translated text.

CHAP. II] § 78. THE TESTIMONY OF THE APOSTLES 451

No one else could do this but the author himself, since he is
both authorized and competent to guard against false inter
pretations of his original meaning.

The citation from Psalm xl. 6 in Heb. x. 5 may still fur
ther explain this. The translation which is here given is
undoubtedly borrowed from the LXX., and it is equally cer
tain that the translation of the LXX. is faulty and corrupted
in the copies, either by the change of om'a, or, as others
assert, by that of a-ropa into crw/xa. DM1X is not o-w/^a, but
wria or <wra. Must it be said, that the reading cr<w/*a indi
cates another thought? Most assuredly, if one translates
^ JVO Q^IX as given in the Dutch version: "Mine ears
hast thou pierced," in the sense in which the willing slave
was pinned through the ear to the doorpost of his lord. This
translation, however, is absolutely untenable, simply because
this never could or can be said of the D^IK (ears) in the
dual. The only correct translation is : Mine ears hast thou
digged, in the sense of opened, i.e. Thou hast prepared me
for the service of obedience. For this thought the expres
sion " a body hast thou prepared me " would do just as well,
after the rule of the "whole for the part." If my thumb
is hurt, I can use three forms of expression : my thumb is
wounded, my finger is wounded, or my hand is hurt. For
the preparation of the ear can be put : the preparation of the
body; provided both are taken in the sense that this, physico-
symbolically, points to spiritual obedience, which is also to
be accomplished in outward things. That in Heb. x. 5, body
is taken in this sense appears from verse 9, where the exegesis
from Ps. xl. 7 is used: " Lo, I come to do thy will," i.e.
to obey. And that it is intended as the actual explanation
of the "a body hast thou prepared me," appears from the
additional words : " He taketh away the first (the burnt
offerings and offerings for sin) that He may establish the
second (the complete sacrifice of obedience)." The atoning
act of Christ's sacrifice lay not in the crucifixion of His body
by itself, but in His will to obey; as it is expressly stated in
verse 10: by which will (not by which body) we have been
sanctified. The question whether the following, "through

452 § 78. THE TESTIMONY UF THE APOSTLES [Div. Ill

the offering of the body of Jesus Christ," does not refer hack
to the body in verse 5, can never be answered with certainty.
Even if this inference is accepted, it can never follow from
this that in verse 5 the incarnation, i.e. the providing of the
body for His self-sacrifice, is meant. Rather the contrary ;
for the exegesis which, as we saw, makes verse 9 follow
immediately upon verse 8, affirms the opposite. The unde
niable fault in the translation, or at least in the copies, lent
itself easily to express, nevertheless, the original meaning of
the first author in Ps. xl. 6, and this accounts for the fact
that in a Greek copy this Greek reading does not need to
be changed necessarily to the letter according to the Hebrew
requirement, but can be taken as being equal in sense and
thought to the original. This would have been indeed unlaw
ful in common quotation by another, but offers not the least
difficulty since the auctor primarius of Ps. xl. and Heb. x. is
one and the same. An observation, from which at the same
time it appears how, in the apostolic circle, they did not
represent to themselves the authority of the Scripture as a
petrified power, but as a power flowing forth from an ever-
vital authority, carrying and ever accompanying the entire
Scripture. It presented itself differently to them than to
us. For us this inspiration belongs to the past ; it is an
ended matter ; we ourselves stand outside of it. In the
same way the Sanhedrin were under the impression that
inspiration had died out for as man}- as four centuries. In
the apostolic circle, on the other hand, by Jesus' promise that
the Holy Ghost would resume his working, they were pre
pared to entertain a different view, and after the day of Pen
tecost they actually lived in another reality. They perceived
that this same wondrous power, which had worked in former
times and the product of which was the Scripture, had re
sumed its action, even though in a different way. By this
the apostolic circle lived in the Scripture as in a part of its
own life. This broke the barrenness of the mechanical con
tact, and caused the organic contact to resume its liberating
process ; and it is in this way that subjectively, from the
side of the apostles, their liberty in the use of Scripture is

CHAP. II] § 79. SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS RESULT 453

explained, as we explained it objectively from the identity of
the author in the quotation and in what was quoted.

§ 79. Significance of this Result for the Old Testament

The period in which the opponents of the Christian con
fession exegetically misrepresented the Scriptures, in such a
way that at length they were said to contain their opinions, is
irrevocably past. In controversies of a sectarian character,
such dogmatic exegesis may still be resorted to ; in the con
flict for or against the Christ as the Son of God, this weapon
is worn out. Negation has destroyed the gain of this untrue
position, and now feels itself sufficiently strong to continue
the undermining of orthodox Christendom without the assist
ance of the authority of the Scripture. This we consider no
loss, since it has rendered the position clear and free. The
first result is, that one begins by granting that orthodoxy is
correct in a most important point, which formerly was com
bated and derided. Only remember what material was gath
ered by the waning rationalistic-supranaturalistic period, by
which to prove, in an amusingly learned way, that in the Holy
Scripture Christ appeared nowhere as a Divine person, and
that there was as little mention in the Scripture of a vicari
ous sacrifice made for sinners. This was altogether a churchly
dogma, but no representation of Scripture ; and thus the hope
less task was undertaken to exegete all such mysteries out of
the Scripture. The authority of Christ or of the apostles
stood too high at the time, in public estimation, to be put
aside or to be defied. In order to obtain a hearing for one's
"free" ideas, it was necessary, at the time, to press the argu
ment that the churchly representation was forced upon Christ
and His apostles, but that, on a more accurate exegesis, it
appeared to be foreign to the Scripture. Whatever of pro
test was entered against this, from the side of the orthodox,
was commonly said to have neither rhyme nor reason. It
was soon treated with ridicule ; and in some inconceivable
way the opinion became prevalent that, in all honesty, Jesus
and His apostles had fostered those very same ideas, which
eighteen centuries later, in a jaded period of enervated theo-

454 § 79. SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS KESULT [Div. Ill

logical thought, were sold off as the newest sample of reli
gious wisdom. If you pass from the period of negation of
that time to view its present phase, you observe that this
breastwork, cast up with so much exertion, is entirely de
serted, and that literally no one defends any longer the rep
resentation which was then generally accepted. On the
contrary, opponents and supporters of orthodoxy are now
fairly well agreed that, in that earlier conflict, upon exegeti-
cal ground, the orthodox exegetes were right, and that the
Scripture, as it lies before us, really preaches those mysteries
then so sharply antagonized.

This has not been granted, of course, with the purpose of
accepting those mysteries. This recognition was arrived at
only after men had become well assured that nothing was to be
derived from it in the interest of the truth of those mysteries.
Xow it was said that the Scripture itself must be aban
doned, and that these mysteries had not been promulgated
by the Christ, but were attributed to Him by Scripture docu
ments of later composition. A da capo, indeed, of the an
cient assertion ; only with this difference, that in the earlier
period battle was given in the domain of the Scripture, and
now it was turned against that Scripture itself. And when
this failed of providing a conception of the Christ which
divested him of all supernatural elements, they have now
even wrested themselves sufficiently free from his moral au
thority, boldly to declare that a certain circle of conceptions
belonged indeed to Jesus, which nevertheless have ceased
to be true to us. But even this implies for us a twofold
gain. First, the gain that, now we may see what the ten-
denc}* of the earlier exegetical attack on Christendom was,
and that in the main the exegesis of the orthodox was cor
rect. And secondly, there is the gain that it is no longer
denied that Jesus and His apostles entertained concep
tions concerning several mysteries, which exhibit a clear
relationship to the orthodox confession — a fact which is
particularly granted with respect to the conception of
Jesus and His apostles concerning the Old Covenant. Aside
from the question whether the further development of the

CHAP. II] FOR THE OLD TESTAMENT 455

dogma of inspiration does not diverge from that concep
tion in more than one particular, and in so far stands
in need of correction, no one at present will deny that in
the circle of Jesus and His apostles there was a current
conception, gainsaid by none, which assigned to the Old
Testament, as a Holy Book, a normative authority. Even
those who think that the portrait of Jesus, as the New
Testament delineates it, allows us only with difficulty to
form an idea of the figure of the Rabbi of Nazareth which
lurks behind it, confess that Jesus cannot be represented
in any other way than as having adopted at this point
the current opinion of pious Israelites of His times. Even
the accommodation theory has long since been abandoned.
But after the frank confession that Jesus shared that
conception, this fact is emptied of its significance by the
simple statement that Jesus' opinion on this point has no
value, — that He Himself, no less than His contemporaries,
has simply been mistaken. Hence the confession of the
fact has only become possible at the price of respect for
Jesus' person. As long as this respect was retained, the fact
could not be granted. Since this respect has been lost, the
confession is freely made.

This reveals at the same time the weighty consideration
which this confession puts in the scale for him who finds
this respect for Christ as the Son of God in the depths of
his soul, and to whom, therefore, Jesus shines in the full
glory of the divine mystery. Can He have been — mistaken,
mistaken — with respect to holiest things, in what must
be to us the ground and source of our faith ! Mistaken
also, therefore, in assigning, on the basis of the Scripture,
a high Messianic character to Himself ! But the very idea is
incompatible with the confession of Jesus' Divine nature.
Erring in what is holy is no mere failure in intellect, but
betrays a state of ruin of one's whole inner being. In the
sinner, therefore, a mistake is natural, but not in one who is
holy. Hence, here you face a dilemma, from the stress of
which there is no escape. One of two things must follow :
either, if in the centrum of what is holy Jesus took His stand

456 §70. SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS RESULT [Div. Ill

upon a lying conception, then He Himself had no instinct for
the truth, was not God manifest in the flesh, and could not
even have been the purely sinless man ; or, if He was " the
Christ, the Son of the living (rod," in all things like our
selves, sin excepted, then whatever He sealed as true in the
centrum of what was holy must also be true to him who
thus believes in his Saviour. Nothing can here be put in
between. As long as the effort was prosecuted to prove that
Jesus shared the view of the Scripture of the Old Testament
held by the more liberal tendency at the beginning of
this century, inspiration could be abandoned without the
loss of one's Christ. Since, on the other hand, this effort
has suffered total shipwreck, and since it is, and must be,
historically acknowledged that Christ viewed the Scripture
in about the same way in which the Church of all ages has
done this in her symbols, the conflict against this view of
the Scripture has become directly a conflict against the Christ
Himself. He who breaks in principle with that ancient view
of the Scripture cuts the cord of faith, which bound him
to that Christ as his Lord and his God. And he who can
not refrain from kneeling low before his Saviour cannot break
with the ground of faith in the Scripture, as Jesus Himself
has sealed it.

The tendency, which becomes more and more manifest, to
withdraw oneself from the Scripture into an individualistic
mysticism and from the Christ to go back to the Holy Spirit,
cannot be maintained for one moment by a worshipper of
Christ in the face of the fact that Jesus acknowledged the
Scripture. For, even though we take them as historical
witnesses merely, the Scriptures of the New Testament
afford abundant proof that Christ knew this mysticism of
the Holy Spirit and honored it, but even in the Gospel
of John, in which this mysticism is most often mentioned,
almost more strongly than in the Synoptics, you find the
conviction of Jesus expressed that He is bound to the Script
ures ; bound not only for His conceptions, but bound for His
person, for the program of His life and passion, and for the
future of glory which awaits Him. Hence the desire to

CHAP. II] FOR THE OLD TESTAMENT 457

remain orthodox in one's Christology, and so far as the way
of knowledge is concerned to withdraw oneself into mystical
territory, in order to be able to make concessions in the domain
of the Scripture-question, is the fruit of lack of thought, a
measuring with two measures, and self-contradiction. The
question is more serious than is surmised by this well-mean
ing orthodoxy. The conflict, which is begun in order to rob
us of the Scripture as Holy Scripture, can have no other
tendency than to rob us of the Christ. If the Holy Script
ure qua talis falls, then Jesus was a man and nothing more,
who was mistaken in the centrum of what was holy, and
who consequently can neither escape from the fellowship of
sin, nor yet in what is holiest and tenderest be your absolute
guide.

It is not true that on this point there could be error in
Jesus, without detriment to His person and His character as
authority in what is holy. In history entirely innocent
inaccuracies are certainly possible, which, so far from doing
harm, rather bring to light the free utterance of life above
notarial mannerism. But of this character, Jesus' error
could have been least of all. For three reasons. In the
first place, because, if the historical-critical school is right,
there is not merely a dispute about the author and the origin
of several books, but in the Old Testament you frequently
encounter deceit and falsehood. There are not only sev
eral representations of facts and events which are fictitious,
but many pretensions, also, to Divine revelation which are
feigned, and the intrusion of writings under other names
which are nothing but "prophecies after the event," but
which nevertheless present themselves as authentic prophecy.
Whether this deceit and this falsehood is the personal work
of one individual or the result of tradition, makes no differ
ence ; falsehood does not cease to be falsehood if it is gener
ated gradually in the course of time. And however much one
may talk of " pious fraud," even that can only be represented
as free from deceit when the rule is adopted that the end
sanctifies the means. Grant that you may make no scientific
claims on Jesus, which fall outside of the scope of His person

458 § 79. SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS RESULT [Div. Ill

and time, may this ever authorize one to deny Him also the
instinct for truth ? And yet He must have been entirely
devoid of this instinct, if He could have taken such a struct
ure of fictitious and designedly untrue representations as the
ground of that truth, which He confessed and for which He
died.

In the second place, such error could not have been in
nocently made for the reason stated above, viz. that Jesus
accepted the entire program of His life at the hand of the
Scripture. The Old Testament Scripture had a meaning for
Jesus which it could have had for no other, either before or
after Him. From the fatal standpoint of an error no other
conclusion can be formed than that in the program of the
'Ebed Jahvah, of the Messiah, and of the man of sorrows
Jesus wrongly saw the plan of His own existence, public
appearance, passion and glory, and that He labored under an
illusion when, on the ground of the Scripture, He conformed
Himself to this. His great life-work, then, is no result of a
Divine impulse, but a role in a drama which He found
projected by some one else, and of which He imagined Him
self to be the chief actor. Thus if this error is granted,
it entails with it a condemnation of Jesus' whole interpreta
tion of His task. Not only His interpretation of the Script
ure, but His entire position in history has then been one
mistake. He then has walked in a dream. A beautiful
dream wrought into His phantasy by the Old Testament.
By this, however, His life and sacrifice forfeit the serious
character of being a moral reality sprung from God.

And the third reason, why the idea of an innocent mistake
cannot be entertained, is evident from the very conflict of
our times. At first the Old Testament was antagonized by
means of the New, in order on ethical grounds to exhibit
the lower standard of the Old. The religious and ethical
representations of the Old Testament must be repelled, in
order that Christ and the New Testament might find an
entrance as the principium of what was higher and holier.
Now one does not hesitate on the ground of his own religious
and moral sense to apply his criticism to Christ and the New

CHAP. II] FOR THE OLD TESTAMENT 459

Testament. But even if we pass this second suggestion by,
it is alleged that in the centrum of the religious and moral
life there yawns an abyss between the Old Testament and
the Christ. Notwithstanding all this the attempt is being
made to make it appear as though it had merely been an
innocent mistake in Christ that for eighteen centuries by
precept and example He has bound His followers and con
fessors to the authority of that Old Testament. But is it
not absurd to qualify in the Founder of your religion, as
Jesus is called, as of no importance a mistake which for ages
has led millions upon millions astray, and still continues to
do this ? We may safely prophesy that after not many days
the stress of the dilemma, which we here face, will be real
ized and generally acknowledged. Either Jesus' view of the
Scripture is the true one, and then we should kneel in His
presence ; or Jesus' view of the Scripture is one enormous
mistake, in which case the Rabbi of Nazareth can no longer
be the absolute guide along the way of faith.

We accept this dilemma the sooner since it determines
most definitely our point of departure. There are two kinds
of people, thus we wrote, in or outside of the circle of palin
genesis, and connected therewith there are two kinds of con
sciousness, subjectively with or without illumination, and
objectively with or without Holy Scripture. Applied to the
above-named dilemma, this affirms: That if by palingenesis
you stand vitally related to the Christ as " the head of the
body," the relation between your consciousness and the Holy
Scripture is born from this of itself. But if that relation of
the palingenesis does not bind you to the Christ of God as
head of the body of the new humanity, you cannot kneel
before Him in worship, neither can the Scripture be to you a
Holy Scripture. The scientific form, in which your confes
sion of the Scripture will cast itself, we do not consider here.
No one, able to think and to ponder, has ever come either to
palingenesis, to faith in the Christ as the Son of God, or
to the acceptance of the Scripture, as the result of scientific
investigation. Faith is of a different kind, and can never
be plucked as fruit from the branches of science. Faith

460 § 80. THE INSI1RATION OF [Div. Ill

iii, as well as the rejection of, the Christ and the Scripture,
i.e. of a Logos embodied in the flesh and embodied in writ
ing (eWaptffoyiez'o? and eyypa<f>os~), springs from the root of
our spiritual existence. Hence it cannot be that by nature
every one accepts the Christ and the Holy Scripture. The
antithesis cannot remain wanting between those who believe
and reject. It lies in the very nature of every intervenient
process, which does not find its rise in the natural princi-
pium of the creation, but in a special principium that is bent
upon recreation. The very nature of special grace brings
with it that by one it must be accepted, but also by another
be rejected. Faith cannot belong to all. As soon as rejec
tion stands no longer over against faith, special grace has
reached its end, and by the parousia passes over into the
then glorified natural principium. This was not felt for
many years, because faith on the Scripture floated on tradi
tion only, and became thereby unspiritual. The apostasy
from the Christ and from the Scripture is therefore nothing else
than the falling away from this traditional position, which for
a long time had no more spiritual root. Now only, thanks to
the simultaneous conflict against Christ and the Scripture,
the great dictum, that Christ is set for the rising up but also
for the falling of many (Luke ii. 34), also for those who are
o it t side of Israel, begins to be realized as truth.

§ 80. The Inspiration of the New Testament

The Scripture of the New Testament is not so directly
covered by the authority of Christ and His apostles as that
of the Old Covenant. The Law and the Prophets formed
a Scripture which already existed, and concerning which,
therefore, Jesus1 verdict and use can give a final explanation ;
but the New Testament did not yet exist, and therefore could
not be subjected to judgment in the circle of Jesus. The
absolute and immediate authority which the Bishop of
Rome claims as vicar of Christ and head of the Church lacks
the Divine seal, which it needs in order to impress the
Divine stamp upon the Scripture of the New Testament.
The absolute authority necessary for such a sealing, outside

CHAP. II] THE NEW TESTAMENT 461

of us, is here wanting. Our fixed point of departure, there
fore, does not lie in the New, but in the Old, Testament.
The Old Testament is to us the fixed point of support, and the
New cannot legitimate itself other than as the complement
and crown of the Old, postulated by the Old, assumed and
prophesied by Christ, actually come, and by the continuity
of faith accepted in the Church of Christ. A certain paral
lel with the standing of the authority of the Old Testament
before Jesus' appearance is here not to be denied. Even
though Jesus' decisive witness concerning the Scripture then
in existence lays for us the firmest objective foundation on
which its authority rests, it may nevertheless not be lost
from sight that respect for this authority did not originate
first by means of Jesus' coming, but was already preva
lent before He was manifest in the flesh. Christ had merely
to connect Himself with what existed, and put His seal to
an authority that was universally recognized. The authority
of the Scripture of the Old Covenant arose of itself even as
that of the New Testament. It was, as Jesus found it, the
result of organic factors which had worked in upon the
people of God in the Old Dispensation ; an authority which
only gradually had been firmly established, and did not main
tain itself in an absolute sense, except through conflict and
strife, over against the pretension of the Apocrypha and
other influential writings, but at length prevailed univer
sally within a sharply bounded domain. As a parallel to the
rise of the authority of the New Testament this is of value
to us, because it shows that such an authority can establish
itself gradually by psychical factors and in organic connec
tion with the life of the people of God, and in such a way
that the Christ ratifies it afterwards as an entirely lawful
and valid authority. From this the possibility also is evi
dent that in a proper way, without outward legitimation,
such an authority may be imposed as of itself, and that after
wards it can appear to have been entirely lawfully estab
lished. Thus there is nothing strange in it, that in a
similarly unmarked way the Scripture of the New Testament
gradually acquired the authority which it has since exercised.

462 § 80. THE INSPIRATION OF [Div. Ill

From the psychological point of view the process of the rise
of this authority, both with the New and with the Old
Testament, is one. The description of this process is the
task of the science of Canonics, and therefore lies outside of
our scope. But the inner necessity needs to be indicated
with which the Old called for the New Testament, and how
this necessity has been universally realized.

We begin with the latter. Consider then how difficult it
must have been at first for the pious mind, to add to the
Holy Scripture, consisting as it then did of the Old Testa
ment, a new part, with the claim of equal authority. An
absolute boundary line separated the Old Testament from
every other writing. Even the conflict with the Apocrypha
had ceased. And now the idea arises, of placing all sorts
of other writings, which lack every mark of antiquity, and
are of very recent date, on a line with this Holy Script
ure, even with respect to authority, and yet this idea meets
with no opposition, but enters as of itself ; and while at the
same time all sorts of other writings are circulated, one sees
in the main very soon a boundary line drawn between what
commends itself as clothed with that authority, and what
does not. What are one hundred years in such a process
of spiritual development? And not much more than one
century has passed after Jesus' ascension, before a com
plement for the Old Testament has formed itself, begins to
run by its side, finds recognition, and comes into sacred use.
And this went on so unobservedly and of itself, that al
though all sorts of controversies arose concerning the ques
tion, whether this or that book should be adopted, yet of
a fundamental controversy against the idea itself, of adding
a New Testament to the Old, there is absolutely no trace
discoverable. Reaction against this idea as such proceeded,
and very reasonably, from the side of the Jews alone, but
was not even suggested in the circle of the Christians.
They were as controversial then as we are now, and there
is no difference, however small, dogmatic, ethic, or ecclesias
tic, but has been fought for and against from the beginning.
But no trace of any significance appears anywhere of opposi-

CHAP. II] THE NEW TESTAMENT 463

tion to the idea itself, that a new Scripture should be added
to the Old. Hyperspiritualism may have reacted against
all Scripture, New as well as Old ; but that cannot claim
our attention here : we speak simply of those, who, while
loyally subject to the authority of the Old Testament, faced
the question whether or no a second Scripture, clothed with
equal authority, should be added to the accepted canon.
Psychologically one would have expected a negative answer
to this question from more than one side. Imagine what it
would mean to you if to your Bible, as it now consists of
Old and New Testaments, a third volume was to be added,
clothed with equal authority and of later origin, and you
perceive at once that reaction against this effort, yea,
fierce opposition almost, could not be wanting. And yet
such was the case faced by the church at large at that
time. Both what was to be added to the Old Testament,
and that anything should be added, was entirely new to
them. That, nevertheless, all opposition of any essential
character and significant influence against this idea as such
remained wanting, shows indeed that the minds and hearts
must have been predisposed to the reception of a second
Scripture ; that the enlightening, when this Scripture arose,
bound the minds and hearts to it ; and that the appearance
of the New Testament, so far from sowing unrest in the
mind, rather produced that natural rest which is enjoyed
when what was incomplete in itself obtains its natural com
plement. And this sense was so general that not only the
orthodox but also the heterodox tendency, as far as it moved
in the bed of the Christian Church, supported the rise of
this new Scripture. Even though many efforts went out
from the side of the heterodox to exclude this or that writ
ing, to modify or replace it by another, yet in this very
effort the general consciousness voiced itself, that an author
itative Scripture of the New Testament was a necessity.
Even though the authority was questioned of certain books,
or of a part of it, the heretic and the orthodox confessor
were unanimous in the conviction that the Old Scripture
called for a New.

464 § 80. THE INSPIRATION OF [Div. Ill

There was indeed some reaction, but this was aimed exclu
sively against the manner how, and not against the matter
itself. By that reaction against the manner of execution, the
matter itself was rather strengthened. The adoption of the
avri\^6^va was reacted against ; reaction took place for
the sake of introducing other writings, which did not belong
to the canon ; to modify the text of universally acknowl
edged writings, agreeably to all sorts of heterodoxy : but
this threefold reaction is but a proof that the conflict was
waged with reference to certain products of the first Chris
tian literature, but very definitely not with reference to
the acceptance of a new Holy Scripture. That such a man
as Paul alone wrote perhaps ten times as much as is con
tained from his hand in the New Testament, lies in the very
nature of the case. Is it reasonable to suppose that one
of the apostles never wrote anything ? How large, then,
the literary product must have been about one hundred
years after Jesus' birth. But no proposal was made to
add the whole of this literary inheritance, not even all the
apostolic writings, as the complement to the Old Testament.
There was room for choice, there was room for sifting.
This will do ; that, not. And in this lies the recognition
of the distinction between what should and what should
not be received as authoritative. This certainly was not
effected mechanically nor conventionally nor scholastically.
Whatever in the end compiled this Scripture canonically,
it was not simply human sharp-sightedness, but rather
Divine providence. Even so, however, it appears from the
threefold reaction, mentioned above, that with clear con
sciousness a second Holy Scripture as such was in view,
and that the assignment of such high authority to this or
that book was contested, but not the reality of such an
authority as such. It is evident that this occasioned a
period of uncertainty ; but let it be observed that this uncer
tainty concerned the whole New Testament only for a very
short time, and, sooner than could be expected, reduced
itself to a very small part of it. In that limited sense,
however, this uncertainty could not remain wanting, for the

CHAP. II] THE NEW TESTAMENT 465

very reason that such a canonical authority could only be
the outflow of the finally unanimous and ever spontaneous
recognition of the churches. A recognition which was
greatly impeded by the distances between the farthest out
lying churches in the West and in the East ; which experi
enced still more impediment from the absence of a regular
communication ; and which, in the midst of the confusion
brought about by persecution and by heterodoxy, could only
be established as by miracle. And yet the result is that
persecution had scarcely ceased, and the ecclesiastical bond
been regulated, and heterodoxy been repressed, when on
every hand you find the churches in the possession of a
second Holy Scripture, and the authority of the New
Testament standing in nothing behind that of the Old.

This would be inexplicable, if the Old Testament had
announced itself as exclusive and in itself complete, and
had not, rather, itself called for a New Testament as its
complement. The prophetic character of the Old Covenant
bars out this exclusive point of view. Everything in the
Old Testament will be nothing but anticipatory, and calls
for the "age to come" (KDH D71S). In the estimation of
all who revered its authority, the entire Old Scripture postu
lated a reality which was to come, the shadow of which alone
was given in the old dispensation. The glimmerings were
there, the light itself still tarried. One read the prologue ;
the drama itself was to follow. The pedestal was finished
for the monument about to be erected, but the figure itself
was still to be placed upon it. There was a protasis, but
the apodosis of fulfilment was yet to come. When this
end, this complementing reality, came, the same problem
arose as of old. This apodosis, this plerosis, came not in one
moment of time, immediately to be ended and closed by the
parousia, but this manifestation was also to be perpetuated, as
has been the case now nearly twenty centuries. The same
necessity of the Scripture, which existed for the manifesta
tion of the prophetic dispensation, was here repeated. What
took place only once, and was to project its energy for cen
turies together and to all the ends of the earth, must pass

466 § 80. THE INSPIRATION OF [Div. HI

over into tradition, and this tradition must clothe itself in
the only conceivable form of human trustworthiness, viz.
that of the Scriptura. This necessity would have fallen
away if the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in the mystical
body of Christ had worked actual holiness and infallibility
at once. Then, indeed, oral tradition would have been guar
anteed against involuntary and wilful falsification. Since,
however, this is not so, and they who are regenerated must
struggle till their death with the after-throes of sin, and
since in the Church of Christ many hypocrites are continu
ally numbered with the children of palingenesis, the oral
tradition was in imminent danger of being falsified. The
necessitas scripturae, therefore, to perpetuate the manifesta
tion which took place eighteen centuries ago was undeni
able. Thus, the content of the Old Testament called for
the complementing manifestation in Christ, and the Scripture
of the Old Testament for its written complement in the New.
This holds the more because the manifestation, however
much it may be plerosis with respect to the prophetical dis
pensation of the Old Testament, bears in itself, in its turn,
an incomplete and therefore a prophetical character. Po
tentially the Divine reality is seen in the manifestation of
Christ, but this will find its actual consummation only in the
parousia, when the palingenesis shall have worked its effect
in the universal cosmical sense. Hence, the second manifes
tation in Christ calls for a third manifestation in the parou
sia. Of this, Paul says, 1 Cor. xv. 24 : " Then cometh the
end, when he shall deliver up the kingdom to God, even the
Father." In the new dispensation, therefore, there is not
only the manifestation of what was prophesied in Israel, but
the prophecy, as well, of a manifestation which only comes
after this. An ethical " It is finished " has been heard from
Golgotha, but the final "It is come to pass" (Rev. xxi. »i)
will only be proclaimed after the Parousia. There is also
a program, therefore, of what lies between the first coming
of Christ and His return, and an apocalypse of what shall be
the end ; and as the tradition of what had taken place called
for the support of writing, from the nature of the case this

CHAP. II] THE NEW TESTAMENT 467

support was much more necessary for the tradition of what
was program-like.

Agreeably to this, we find that Christ Himself postulates
such a second Holy Scripture. This already appears from
the charge given by Christ to John on Patmos: " What thou
seest, write (^pd-ty-ov) in a book, and send it unto the Seven
Churches" (Rev. i. 11), in connection with the strong sense
in which the meaning of yeypafjifjievov appears in the entire
Apocalypse. But since this <ypdtyov comes in too abruptly-
mechanically, occurs in an avriXeyo/jievov, and refers merely
to one single book, we point rather to the position to which
Jesus exalts the apostolate. With respect to this, we see
that Christ indeed took measures to assure the durability of
His work, by which to realize the end of His mission. No
trace is found with Jesus of a spiritualistic-mystical laisser-
aller. He institutes the apostolate, attaches to it a definite
authority, and commissions this apostolate with a definite
task. With respect to our present subject, this task is two
fold: (1) the appearing as witnesses of the manifestation
which they had seen ; and (2) the proclaiming of things to
come. This double task was imposed upon them, not merely
with respect to those who were then alive, before whom they
should stand and preach by word of mouth, but with refer
ence to " all nations," in those nations to all believers, and
for those believers "to the end of the world." Now put
this together, and how could the apostles bring this witness
to all nations and through all ages, except either by not
dying, or, since they died even very early, by the instru
mentality of writing?

That Christ gave a call to the apostolate not merely to bring
the Gospel to those who were then alive, but to be until the
end his authoritative witnesses to all believers, is already ob
servable from John xvii. 20, where Jesus prays, not only for
the apostles themselves, " but for them also that believe on
him through their word." That this refers to all believers
among all nations and of all ages lies in the nature of the
case, since the intercession of Christ applies to all his peo
ple; but it appears, moreover, very clearly from the connec-

468 §80. THE INSPIRATION OF [Div. Ill

tion. There follows, indeed, a double "that" (!W) : (1) that
they may all be one, and (2) that the world may believe
that thou didst send me. It is self-evident that the unity
of believers cannot refer merely to the immediate converts
of that time, and in the same way that the cosmos of all
ages must receive this witness. Now look at verse 14,
where Jesus declares that He has given this Logos as a
word of God first to the apostles, and that it is that Logos
which, by the apostolate, is to be brought within the reach of
the world of all ages, and it follows from this that in the mind
of Jesus this apostolic witness must remain available in a
fixed form after their death. Entirely in the same sense,
therefore, in which in Matt, xxviii. 19 he extends the sig
nificance of the apostolate to all the nations and till the end
of the world. That the apostles themselves saw the excep
tional significance of the apostolate is shown among other
things by John in his First Epistle, i. 1-3, in which he de
clares of himself and of his fellow-apostles : (1) that the//
received the manifestation so realistically that he even says :
" and our hands have handled ; " and (2) that they were
called to preach this manifestation ; and (3) that the fruit
of this preaching must be the adoption of converts into the
fellowship of the apostolate, because by this fellowship only
could they enter into the mystical union with God and His
Christ. We even see Paul taking measures, as long as the
Scriptura still tarries, to fill in the gap, when to Timothy he
writes : " And the things which thou hast heard from me
among r.iany witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful
men, who shall be able to teach others also " (2 Tim. ii.
2). The conception lies expressed very clearly in this that
the apostolate brings something to the world that is to re
main for all time the fixed and reliable tradition.

This significance of the apostolate extends itself even
farther, when notice is taken of those utterances of Jesus
contained in John xiv. 25, 26 ; xv. 26, 27 ; xvi. 12, etc.
In John xvi. 12-15, the difference is clearly anticipated,
which later on was to assert itself between the gospel (TO
euayyeXiov') and the apostolate (o aTro'crroXo?) . The task

CHAP. II] THE NEW TESTAMENT 469

of the apostles was to be twofold : (1) as witnesses of what
they had seen and heard, they were to embody the record
of the life and work of Jesus upon the earth in a well-
guaranteed tradition ; but (2) also, to reveal to the world
what, after His ascension, Jesus would testify and make
known unto them. Not as though this revelation after
Jesus' ascension should advance, in a Montanistic sense, be
yond Jesus, for of this Jesus Himself declares, " I have yet
many things to say unto you," and the only reason why as
yet He did not reveal them was " that the apostles were not
yet able to bear it." This later revelation, indeed, will pro
ceed in a different way, and come to them by the Holy
Ghost, i.e. by way of inspiration, but this will not render
the character of this later revelation different in kind ; for
the Lord declares emphatically that the Holy Ghost will take
from the things that are His, " What things soever he shall
hear, these shall he speak," and thus only be able "to declare
unto you the things that are to come." This excludes,
therefore, the representation that this working of the Holy
Spirit should consist in mystical leadings. Definite mate
rial is here spoken of, which is present in the consciousness
of the Mediator ; which purposely He does not as yet impart
to His apostles ; and which, after His ascension, the Holy
Ghost will borrow as content from the Mediator-conscious
ness (He shall take of mine), in order by inspiration to com
municate it to the apostles. This is so strongly emphasized
that Jesus repeats the selfsame thought three times : (1) in
the thirteenth verse, " He shall not speak from himself, but
what things soever he shall hear, these shall he speak " ;
(2) in the fourteenth verse, " He shall glorify me : for he
shall take of mine"; and (3) in the fifteenth verse, "there
fore said I, that he taketh of mine, and shall declare it unto
you." Evidently no mystical sensations are here spoken of
which were to be quickened by the Holy Spirit, but thoughts
and purposes are referred to which were present in the con
sciousness of the Mediator, and which are indicated by the
"of mine." Of these thoughts, it is said, "He will guide
you into all the truth " : and of these purposes, " He will de-

470 § 80. THE INSPIRATION OF [Div. Ill

dare unto you the things that are to come." And in both
cases it applies to a definite content, which is obtained by
hearing, and after that is transmitted by declaring. From
which it likewise follows that no reference is made here to
what Jesus spake after His resurrection, but exclusively to
that which only later on should enter into their conscious
ness by inspiration. On the other hand, John xiv. 25. 26,
views what we call the gospel (TO evayyeXiov^ . Here is
mention, not of what was still to be revealed, but of what
had been revealed unto them, and by a failing memory
might escape them. Against this the Holy Spirit shall
watch, since " He shall teach you all things, and bring to
your remembrance all that I [Christ] said unto }*ou," a
process of inspiration, as will be seen later, of an entirely
different character, referring to the past, even as the inspi
ration of John xvi. 12, to the things that are to come. And
if the question is raised how this double tradition, which the
apostolate was to bequeath to the Church of all ages, would
find an entrance and belief, John xv. 26, 27 gives answer ;
for their witness would be accompanied and supported by
the ivitness of the Holy Spirit in the heart of believers.

With the holy apostle Paul, however, an exception took
place. With him there could be no remembrance by the Holy
Ghost, because he had not followed Jesus. Therefore, Paul
declares that the exalted Mediator had also revealed the Gos
pel to him. This, indeed, is the only meaning that can be
attached to his statement in 1 Cor. xi. 23, " For I received
of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you," which
testimony he repeats in 1 Cor. xv. 3 almost literally, where
he treats of the resurrection of the Lord. This is likewise
referred to by what he says in 1 Cor. vii. 12, "But to the
rest say I, not the Lord," which, from the nature of the
case, may not be taken as though his advice following
should possess no Divine authority, but as indicating that
in His revelation of His earthly appearance the Christ had
given him no direction concerning this, so that with refer
ence to this the apostle speaks, not from the remembrance,
but from the revelation of the Holy Ghost ; which repre-

CHAP. II] THE NEW TESTAMENT 471

sentation, with the apostolic Scripture before one's eyes, may
not be dismissed as being far-fetched. With so many words,
indeed, Paul testifies in Gal. i. 11, 12, "For I make known to
you, brethren, as touching the gospel which was preached by
me, that it is not after man. For neither did I receive it
from man, nor was I taught it, but it came to me through
revelation of Jesus Christ." For the matter in hand, how
ever, this makes no difference. With Paul, also, there is a
difference between what is revealed to him of the past, and
what is given him by inspiration concerning the thoughts and
events, the knowledge of which was given by Jesus to His
Church after His ascension, through the Holy Spirit.

The inspiration itself of the apostles will be considered in
a separate paragraph. For the purpose in hand it is suffi
cient to have shown : (1) that the Old Testament postulated
a second revelation, which could only come later ; (2) that
this second revelation also was destined for all nations and
every age, and on this ground called for documentation ;
(3) that up to the time of Jesus' ascension a part only of this
second revelation had come, while another part still tarried,
and that the end can only come with the parousia ; (4) that
Jesus instituted His apostolate as a definite company (/eoti/<0-
via), and imposed upon this apostolate the task of being
His witnesses until the end of the world; (5) that Jesus,
in order that they might accomplish this task, promised
and granted them a double inspiration of the Holy Ghost ;
first that of remembrance (VTTO'/ZI^O-^), and secondly that
of guidance (08777^0-49) and of declaring (avayyeXia) \ and
(6) that since Christ honored the Old Testament as an
authoritative Scripture for the confirmation and documenta
tion of the revelation which preceded His advent, the idea
was given of itself to have a similar Scripture do service for
the confirmation and documentation of this second revelation.

The result, indeed, puts the seal upon this. Such a second
Scripture did arise of itself. This second Scripture legiti
mized itself as a New Testament to supplement the Old Tes
tament within a relatively short time, and has fused with it
into one whole in the consciousness of the Church. There is

472 § so. INSPIRATION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT [Dn. Ill

no question here of a mechanical compulsion. The apostles
had no thought of preparing a book which, under the seal of
their name and common authority, was to be handed do\vn
to posterity. The tie braided itself entirely organically
between this new Scripture and the ever broader circle of
believers. It was the Holy Spirit Himself who on one side
caused the component parts of this Scripture to originate,
and on the other side secured the choice of these docu
ments in the churches. The hesitancy, which arose with
reference to a number of these documents, shows with what
unanimity the others obtained an immediate entrance, and
how conscientiously the work was undertaken. The idea
that such a second Scripture must come encountered no
opposition, but was alive in the heart as an idea and a
presumption, before it showed itself above the horizon.
Orthodox and heterodox united in this Scripture-idea, and
the result was, that in proportion to the measure in which
the oral tradition changed color and the spread of the church
threatened its unity, the significance of this second Scripture
was more and more felt, until at length there was a complete
documentation, not only of the shadows (ovaat7) but also of
the fulfilment (TrA^peocn?), which was acknowledged by the
churches in all parts of the earth as clothed with Divine
authority. This acknowledgment implied that the authority
assigned to the New Testament was understood in the same
sense as the authority attached by Christ to the Old Testa
ment. To the sense of faith both soon formed one organic
whole. Whatever dominion the Old Testament had, that was
the dominion that was attributed to the New Testament.
And though it is entirely true, in the strict sense, that 2 Tim.
iii. 16, and similar utterances, were written with exclusive
reference to the Old Testament, yet the Church was entirely
right when it applied this as a matter of fact to the New
Testament as well, since indeed, after the organic fusion of
both, one and the same life flowed through both parts of the
Scripture, and in both the Divine Word was communicated
unto us. No mistake was made even when they went
farther; and in the treatment of tin,' organic life of the

CHAP. II] § 81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY 473

Scripture, utterances from the Psalms were also applied to
the New Testament. It was indeed well known that origin
ally such utterances could refer merely to what was then
written ; but it was understood that the same physiological
law for one and the same life is valid in all its stages, and
that for this reason the explanation of what had already
appeared on this plant of the Scripture applied also to the
branches which sprang from it at a later period.

This physiological unity of the organic life of the Scripture
demands that attention shall likewise be paid to the instru
mental diversity by which it came into being. The unity
lies in the auctor primarius, but this can only be fully known
when the needed light is thrown upon the rich multiformity
in the auctores secundarii. Let attention, therefore, now be
centred upon that instrumental side of inspiration.

§ 81. Unity and Multiplicity

The Holy Scripture offers itself to faith as a unity, and it
is that unity which our old theologians called its essentia, i.e.
that which makes it Scripture. This unity becomes apparent
when Jesus simply quotes it with an " It is written," and
when, by His authority likewise, the Holy Scripture becomes
the name by which it is called. In this sense the Scripture
is the Word of God, and every distinction, by which we
have only a Word of God in the Scripture, is a denial of its
essentia or being.

This representation of its unity is not only right but of
highest right for faith, and if it did not give rise to such ter
rible abuse, it might serve, if necessary, as the sole sufficient
one in the realm of faith. Since, however, this representa
tion tempts one so readily to quote every sentence which
occurs in the Scripture, in whatever place, as forming by
itself a Divine saying, and thus to destroy the organic char
acter of revelation, it is the mission of the church to keep
alive also the sense of the multiformity of the Holy Scripture.
Even though it is entirely true that Jesus briefly quotes with
an " It is written," and does this also when a word is quoted
which in the Old Testament does not occur immediately as

474 §81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY [Div. Ill

a saying of the Lord, yet with Jesus such an " It is written "
betrays always a spiritual significance. A word of Satan is
not an " It is written/' neither is every saying of men, nor
even every utterance of God's ambassadors. Hence, in order
to be able to quote Scripture authoritatively, the guidance
of the Holy Spirit is necessary, to impart the spiritual tact of
distinguishing the gold from the ore. One needs only to turn
to the book of Job in order to perceive how much spiritual
maturity is required to know what may or may not be quoted
from among the numerous utterances of Satan, of Job, of his
three friends and of Elihu, with an '• It is written." Every
thing that grows on and in the stalk is by no means wheat,
and especially with finer plants it always takes the eye of the
connoisseur to distinguish fruit from what is no fruit. Upon
the multiplicity, therefore, in the case of the Holy Scripture,
emphasis must also be put, not from the desire to exalt the
human factor, but to keep the gold vein of the Divine factor
pure ; and this will do no harm, provided its organic unity,
and not its multiformity, is chosen as the starting-point
from which to arrive at its unity. In all organic life unity
in the germ is first, from which multiplicity spreads itself.
By fastening leaf, blossom and branch to each other you
never form a living plant. He who. in the case of the
Scripture, thus begins with the multiplicity of the human
factor, and tries in this way to reach out after its unity will
never find it, simply because he began with its denial in
principle.

It was not mistakenly, therefore, that a predestined Bible
was spoken of in Reformed circles, by which was understood
that the preconceived form of the Holy Scripture had been
given already from eternity in the counsel of God. in which
at the same time all events, means and persons, by which
that preconceived form would be realized in our actual life.
were predestined. Hence in the course of ages all sorts of
events take place, and persons appear who do not know of
each other, and in the midst of these events these several
persons are induced, without the knowledge of a higher
purpose, to commit to writing certain facts, thoughts and

CHAP. II] § 81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY 475

perceptions. These persons also write other documents, and
other persons among their contemporaries write as well as
they. But, nevertheless, all those other writings are lost, or
are put aside, while those special documents, which were
destined and ordered of God to compose His Holy Scripture,
are not merely saved, but are made honorable, are compiled,
and gradually attain that authority which He had ordained
for these Scriptures. Thus, according to a plan, known to
God alone, a structure is gradually raised on which in the
course of many ages different persons have labored without
agreement, and without ever having seen the whole. No
one of the children of men had conceived the plan, to com
pile such a Scripture ; not one had added his contribution
with premeditation, nor exhorted others to supplement his
contribution with theirs. Thus the plan of the Holy Script
ure was hidden, back of human consciousness, in the con
sciousness of God, and He it is, who in His time has so
created each of these writers, so endowed, led and impelled
them, that they have contributed what He wanted, and what
after His plan and direction was to constitute His Scripture.
The conception, therefore, has not gone out of men, but out
of God ; and it was in connection with this conception, that
in every document and by every writer in the course of the
ages there should be contributed that very thing, of such a
content and in such a form, as had been aimed at and willed
by God. There is no chance, and hence this composition
and compilation of human writings are not accidental, but
predetermined. And this whole has thus been ordained, and
in virtue of this fore-ordination has thus been executed, as
it had to be, in order to respond to the spiritual needs and
wants of the Church of God in every age and among every
nation. For, of course, in the strict sense it may be said
that every writing is predestined, and this we readily
grant ; but when our Reformed circles spoke of a " pre
destined Bible " they intended to convey thereby the idea
of a medium of grace, which was taken up as a link in
the counsel of God for the salvation of His elect. In the
accomplishment of this purpose lay the justification of the

47»'> §81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY [Div. Ill

Scripture, and the result has fully shown that this wondrous
book contains within itself the mystery of being suited to
every nation, new to every age, profound for the scholar and
rich in comforts for the meek. By this Scripture the world
has been changed, and thanks to its power a moral authority
has been established among the nations, of which it was cor
rectly prophesied by Kant, that though it might be destroyed
in part, it can never be superseded by another equally im
mutable authority. In this universality this Scripture works
an effect which is beyond calculation, and its influence is not
capable of analysis. There it lies in the midst of the Church
and of the nations. A certain mystical tie unites the life of
the soul to it, as a phenomenon. It makes thereby an im
pression, and by that impression it fashions spirits. It does
this in very different ways, and no theory is able to trace or to
interpret the working of that impression. Its light and its
glow radiate solemnly, and the result is that the coldness of
human hearts retreats and the darkness is driven back.
Such u its majesty, and it is by that majesty, that as one
mighty yeypaTrrat. as one overpowering word of God, it
masters our sense of self. In that unity it shines as ill,-
Hal if Scripture.

He who believes in God cannot represent it otherwise
than that there must be a Word of God, one coherent ut
terance of His Divine thought. Not in that anthropomor
phic1 sense in which we men string word to word, but, in
such a s^nse as becomes the Eternal One, who is not subject
to a succession of moments, in the rich and full unity of
the conception. And in that sense the Holy Scripture
speaks of the Loi/os of God, which is something entirelv
different from his spoken words (/3^/iara). and which in
itself indicates merely the psyche of the thought, inde
pendent of its somatic clothing in language and sound. If
man is created after the Image of God, and thus disposed to
communion with the Eternal, then this Word of Gf-od also
must l>e able to be grasped by man ; and even after his fall
into sin, this Word of God must go out to him, though
now in a way suited to his condition. This takes place now.

CHAP. II] § 81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY 477

since man has received being and consciousness, in two ways.
In the way of the esse by the incarnation of the Logos,
and in the way of consciousness as this selfsame Logos
becomes embodied in the Scripture. Both are the spoken
Word (Ao'70? irpo^opiKo^; but in the one case it is the
Word "become flesh" (crdp% yevd /^evo?), in the other "writ
ten" (£y7/>a<£o9), and these two cover each other. Christ
is the whole Scripture, and the Scripture brings the TO esse
of the Christ to our consciousness. Care, however, must
be taken to guard against the mistake, that our conscious
ness can only be wrought upon by the spoken word. Very
certainly this takes place with spoken words, and the Holy
Scripture emphasizes the fact that God the Lord, who gave
us language and in language our human word, Himself made
use of those words by which directly to address us. Sinai
bears witness to this. But besides through the ear, our con
sciousness is also affected through the eye, both by real
revelation in events and by symbolical shadow and manifesta
tion ; and it is by these three means, first, the spoken word,
secondly, the common or extraordinary inworking in the real
world, and third, the shadows, types and figures, that God
the Lord has brought to pass, that His thought Logos, His
divine Word, has been conveyed to sinners. Only when in
this wise these spoken words, signs and shadows are taken
together and joined in their organic relation, can the rich
revelation of the Word of God be viewed in its unity. Not
merely the spoken words, but also the signs, and not merely
these two, but likewise the shadows, in the relation in which
God Himself has revealed them, together give us the Word of
Grod. He only who places himself under the full impression
of this majestic whole, can and may say, that the Word of
God has been revealed to him. For this reason the Logos
of God is both violated and maimed, when it is sought in the
spoken words only, and when consequently one speaks of the
tvords of God in the Scripture. The Scripture as a whole,
as it lies before us as a unit, offers us the organic whole of
this threefold revelation of God, and he only who takes up in
himself that ivhole, has in himself the image of the full reve-

478 § 81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY [Div. Ill

lation of God, and consequently possesses the Word of G-od.
That God's Word is not in the Scripture, but that the Script
ure itself is the photograph of God's "Word, does not refer
therefore to its formal inspiration, but simply states, that you
cannot miss any part of that Scripture without marring the
picture, the photograph, the etching, the copy, which holds be
fore our eyes the full image of God's word. To this unity
faith stretches forth its hands. From this unity of conception
flows the Divine authority, to which the child of God gives
itself captive. How this unity hides in that wondrous book
remains a mystery which refuses all explanation. Only
when you stand before it, at the proper distance, and with
the faith-eye of the connoisseur you gaze upon its multipli
city of tints and lines, the full image discovers itself stereo-
scopically to you. Then you see it. Then you can no
longer not see it. The eye of your soul has caught it.
In all its glory it speaks to you.

But, of course, the multiplicity of that appearance does
not cease to exist on account of that unity. The Holy
Scripture is not abstractly transcendent. It is this in some
apocalyptical parts, but by no means when taken as a whole.
And as a protest must be entered against every effort to take
the revelation of God's consciousness to man as being simply
immanent, as though it consisted merely of the unnoticed influ
ences upon our inner being, equally strong must our protest
be against the effort to interpret the Holy Scripture as a
transcendent phenomenon standing outside of our human
reality. Here, also, the parallel maintains itself between
the incarnate and the written Logos. As in the Mediator
the Divine nature weds itself to the human, and appears
before us in its form and figure, so also the Divine factor
of the Holy Scripture clothes itself in the garment of our
form of thought, and holds itself to our human reality.
This is what our old theologians meant by their combina
tion of the first and secondary authors, but it is something
that goes yet farther ; for even when, on Sinai, God with
His own finger engraves in human words His law upon
the tables of stone, the revelation remains not absolutely

CHAP. II] § 81. UNITY AND MULTIPLICITY 479

transcendent, but makes use here, also, of the human as
instrument. All the shadows and types bear the same
mixed character. All of sacred history rests upon the
same entwining of both factors. And even in miracles,
the Divine factor remains never purely transcendent, but
in order to reveal Himself, ever enters into human reality.
Hence, in all parts of the rich scenery interpreted to you
by the Word of God, it is ever the transcendent, Divine
factor, which exhibits itself to your eye in a human form or
in a human reality. If, now, in order to be the bearer of the
Divine factor, that human form or that human reality were
carried up to its perfection, no contradiction would be born
from this in the appearance ; but this is not so. As the
Logos has not appeared in the form of glory, but in the form
of a servant, joining Himself to the reality of our nature, as
this had come to be through the results of sin, so also, for the
revelation of His Logos, God the Lord accepts our conscious
ness, our human life as it is. The drama He enacts is a trag
edy, quickening a higher tendency in the midst of our human
misery. The forms, or types, are marred by want and sin.
The " shadows " remain humanly imperfect, far beneath their
ideal content. The " spoken words," however much aglow
with the Holy Ghost, remain bound to the limitation of our
language, disturbed as it is by anomalies. As a product of
writing, the Holy Scripture also bears on its forehead the
mark of the form of a servant. This, then, deceives our
vision. This produces a result like what occurs in the case
of many paintings of the latest French school, in which,
at first sight, one sees, indeed, bubbles and daubs of paint,
and even tints and lines, but not the image ; and only after
repeated attempts a view is finally obtained, so that those
daubs and bubbles disappear, the tints and lines become
active, and the image stands out before us. This was
the case with Christ Himself. How many an intelligent
Jew has seen the Christ, but has failed to discover in
Him the Son of God. Somatically, by merely gazing upon
the multiplicity of the features of the phenomenon, this
was not possible. No chemical investigation, however ac-

480 § Kl. UNITY AND Mri/rU'LICITV [Div. Ill

curate, could have discovered any difference between the
llesh and blood of Christ and ours. He had a face like
our face, an eye like our eye; and he only who took his
stand at the proper distance, and who himself had received
light in the eye of his soul, was able at length to see the
shining out of the Divine nature in that Rabbi of Nazareth.
Hence, from the attention bestowed upon the human phe
nomenal in the Holy Scripture, you must never promise
yourself the impression of faith. This rather leads many
away from the unity, and as such it stands in the way
of faith. And however much it is your duty to study that
multiplicity and particularity in the Scripture (both materi
ally and formally), yet from that multiplicity you must ever
come back to the view of the unity of the conception, if there
is, indeed, to be such a thing for you as a Holy Scripture.
The Scripture does not exist otherwise than after the "divers
portions and divers manners " of Heb. i. 1, but in this diver
sity the principal thing is ever the word of G-od.

So far, therefore, as the representation of the secondary
authors (auctores secundarii) as amanuenses of the Holy
Spirit, or also as an instrument played upon by the Holy
Ghost, exclusive!}' tended to point to that unity of concep
tion, there is nothing to be said against it. In that sense,
one can even say that the Holy Scripture has been given us
from heaven. If, on the other hand, one goes farther, and
for the sake of maintaining that unity of conception closes
the eye to the many-sidedness and multiformity of the Script
ure, and the organic way in which it gradually came into ex
istence as a sum-total of many factors, then nothing remains
but a mechanical lifelessness, which destroys the vital, or
ganic unity. This was certainly not intended by our older
theologians. The)', indeed, pointed, and sometimes even with
much detail, to the differing origin of the books, to the dif
ference of style and content, to the difference of character of
the authors and of the vicissitudes of their lives, and also to
the different tendency of the parts of the Scripture. But
yet it can scarcely be denied that they had established them
selves too firmly in the idea of a logical theory of inspira-

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 481

tion, to allow the animated organism of the Scripture to fully
assert itself. This obliges us, just because we join ourselves
as closely as possible to the historic Theology of the Reforma
tion, in order to prevent misunderstanding to explain in some
detail this very different and multiform character of the mul
tiplicity in the Scripture, first, as it concerns the instruments
of inspiration, and then as it concerns inspiration itself.

§ 82. The Instruments of Inspiration

Every revelation, which is not involuntary but voluntary
and intended, assumes a consciousness in God from which it
goes out, and a consciousness in man toward which it directs
itself. It assumes, in the second place, a content which can
take on the form of the conscious. And finally it assumes
an instrument or vehicle by which it is brought from the
consciousness of him who will reveal himself, into the con
sciousness of him for whom the revelation is intended. All
revelation, therefore, falls away if the consciousness in God
be not taken as its starting-point, and becomes weakened
when, though not entirely pantheistically but in a panthe
istic manner, one grants that perceptions arise in us, but
denies that the fruit of those revelations in our consciousness
was beforehand known and intended by God. In the second
place, the essential character of revelation is undermined
when, in a mystical sense, it is left to be choked in the
world of our emotions, rather than made to come to its sub
limate in our consciousness. And, thirdly, revelation be
comes darkened and clouded when one studies exclusively
its point of departure in God and its point of arrival in man,
without a due consideration also of the conducting wire or
line along which it directed itself to us. By our crea
tion after God's image, we are authorized to take, with refer
ence to this matter, the transmission from the consciousness
of one man to that of another as an analogy, and in that
case it is certainly true that this transmission is accomplished
most readily and most often by the vehicle of language ; but
by no means by this alone. In all sorts of ways also are we
able, without ever speaking a word, to convey something

482 § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

from our consciousness to the consciousness of others. First,
there is that entire series of communications which is calcu
lated upon the eye as the vehicle ; all object lessons, pictures,
the look of the eye, the changes of the facial expression, the
movements of the body, the pointing to something, the doing
of a symbolical or illustrative act, etc. To this is added, in
the second place, the strong impression of a deed, of a
repeated action, of the example. And, finally, in the third
place, there enters here for our consideration, that varied
hypnotizing influence by which one is able to subject the
psychic life of the other to his will. But however broad our
repertory may be for this purpose, it nevertheless remains a
limited one, because we have no power over the person him
self ; neither have we the disposition of his lot. With God,
on the other hand, there is no such limitation. He can influ
ence man by all the means that are present in his human
composition and in his surrounding world. Hence, for the
communication of His revelation, first of all He has the dis
posal of all the means that are at our service ; but also, in
the second place, the human body and mind, and all increated
capacities and powers, and the conditions in which one may
be placed. None of these means may be taken as standing
dualistically outside of God and over against Him. God
Himself formed our consciousness, and preserves it in exist
ence from moment to moment. All our nervous life is in
His hand and is His creature. Our imagination is a
capacity quickened in us by Him. Our language is lan
guage wrought in us by Him. He gave us the susceptibility
for impressions by our sense of sight. The mystical influ
ence, which is shown by biology or hypnosis, of soul upon
soul, has been thought out by Him and realized in us. To
which is added, moreover, that as our Creator He formed
our personality and our disposition, approaches us in the root
and centrum of our inner being, and can involve our life in
all those events and experiences whose impression in us He
will use for His ends. Thus, in the fullest sense of the
word, He has the whole of man at His disposal and the ivorld
in which He has placed man. This leads of itself to tlic dis-

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 483

tinction between the subjective and objective instruments of
inspiration, and to the distinction between those means which
of themselves are present in man or in the world round about
him, and those which He purposely causes to originate or
institutes for this end.

Among these subjective and present means of inspiration,
we name internal address, external address and the impulse.

By internal address we understand that God speaks to
man, without making use of his organ of hearing, in the
same way in which, outside of our organs of speech and of
hearing, we hold a dialogue with ourselves. This is an
eWo? \a\elv (a speaking within), by which God the Lord
in works directly upon our psychic consciousness, and there
causes such thoughts or perceptions to arise as He wills.
As a rule we are not able to do this immediately from man
to man. We generally employ in this an action which goes
out from our own consciousness to our nerves, thence to our
organs of speech, thence to the air, by the repercussion of the
air upon the auditory nerves of the other, and only along
this way enters into his consciousness. But already in
magnetic sleep we have an example of a transmission from
consciousness to consciousness, which does not stand in need
of this middle-link of speech and hearing ; and in the dia
logue which we hold with ourselves from moment to mo
ment, we perceive again and again that our organs of speech
do not operate, neither, indeed, our organs of hearing, and
that nevertheless successive changes of thought take place
in us. And since God has access to our consciousness, not
simply from without, but also from within, He cannot be
bound to organs of speech and hearing ; hence by this in
ternal address we must understand that He brings thoughts
directly into our consciousness, as coming to us from Him,
which we understand as a dialogue of God and our soul.
In this sense Jesus constantly affirms, " As I hear, I judge "
(John v. 30), which cannot be interpreted otherwise than
as a constant internal address of God in His inner being.
With Adam, also, such internal address must be assumed
before the fall, so that only after the fall we read that he

484 §82. TIIK INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

heard God, as though His voice walked in the garden upon
the wind of the day; an entirely natural description of the
perception of God's voice, now no longer within him, but
outside of him ; not as internal address, but as external
address. It is self-evident that by sin the susceptibility for
this internal address was blunted, but this does not take it
away, that also after sin, in still the same way, but now from
the special principium, the Lord was able to reveal His
thoughts and thus also His words in man, viz. in the
prophets. This internal address takes account, of course,
of the observation of conceptions that are present in our
memory, and of the language in which we express these
thoughts and conceptions. There is something in this that
offends, if one takes it that the forming of our conceptions and
of our words is arbitrary and the fruit of conclusions (#«rt?);
but it has nothing strange in it, when one perceives that the
forming of conceptions and of words is the fruit of our nat
ural disposition (<£y<rt<?) and is thus necessary, and has been
appointed, therefore, for us by God Himself. Moreover, we
leave it entirely undecided whether, in this internal address,
God forms these thoughts and words in our consciousness, or
whether He merely occasions such an urgency in our con
sciousness as interprets itself to our conception in those given
words and thoughts. We read, to be sure, in Deut. xviii. 18,
t% I will put my words in his mouth," an expression which, in
comparison with Exod. iv. 15 (where it is said to Moses :
" Thou shalt speak unto him and put the words in his mouth."
i.e. of Aaron), makes one almost think of a whispering in the
ear, even as Christ promises His apostles that ''it shall be
given you in that hour what ye shall speak" (Matt. x.
19) ; but by no means prevents our accepting witli this figure
of speech also that the inworking lias taken place in the cen
trum itself of the human consciousness, and from thence ex
tended itself to the organs of speech. This, however, by no
means excludes the speaking through the organ of speech of
a human being without having the action go out to his organ
of speech. It is well known how, in magnetic sleep, one
person is able to accomplish this with the other. With

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 485

those who were possessed similar phenomena occur. In our
dreams also our organs of speech sometimes utter words
which at least do not rise from our normal consciousness.
And the strongest proof for this lies in the speaking with
the glossolaly, by which the mouth uttered words which
were entirely foreign to the thought-sphere of the speaker.
Analogous to this is the speaking that has sometimes been
taught to birds, and which from the side of God occurs in
the significant speaking of the ass of Balaam. All these
analogies show that the organs of speech of one can enter
the service of the consciousness of another ; as, for instance,
when one who knows no Latin and has no understanding of
medicine has been magnetized, and dictates a prescription
which not he but his magnetizer has thought out.

The external address bears another character, and is even
said to be (Num. xii. 8) " mouth to mouth," or also (Exod.
xxxiii. 11) to take place "face to face." Here the emphasis
falls not upon what man speaks after the suggestion of God,
but upon what he hears, even in such a way that the by
standers also can hear it. This is most clearly seen in Exod.
xix. 9, where the Lord sa}rs to Moses : " That the people
may hear when I speak with thee." This direct address
appears equally clearly in the speaking from Sinai to the
people, of which we read in Deut. v. 26 : " For who is there
of all flesh that hath heard the voice of the living Grod speak
ing out of the midst of the fire, as we have ? " An entirely
unique fact, spoken of with emphasis no less than four times.
With the call of Samuel the selfsame phenomenon appears.
Samuel heard the sound of a voice, which he first took to be
Eli's voice, and which only afterwards by the direction of
Eli was recognized by him as the voice of the Lord (1 Sam.
iii. 8, 9). What we likewise read of the voice of the Lord
at the baptism of Jesus, and from the cloud at His trans
figuration, falls under the same category even as the speak
ing of God to Adam after the fall, when he heard the voice
of the Lord walking in the garden upon the wind of the

486 §82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

day. With respect to this external address Num. vii. 89
is especially noteworthy, where the very place is indicated
from which the voice went forth. There we read: "Then
he (Moses) heard the Voice speaking unto Inmfrom above the
mercy-seat that was upon the ark of the testimony, from between
the two cherubim; and he spake unto him." The distinc
tion between this external address and the internal address
allied to it, exists principally in this, that with the internal
address the voice of the Lord is observed as coming up from
within, while with the external address a perception arises
that the sounds come from without. At the foot of Sinai the
people hear the voice coming down to them from above.
Moses hears the voice come to him from between the
cherubim. Samuel observes the voice from the side of
Eli's chamber. At the baptism of Jesus the bystanders
heard the voice from heaven. According to 2 Pet. i. 17,
Peter heard the voice on Tabor " from the excellent glory,"
etc. Of course the addresses of Jesus on the way to Damascus
and on the Island of Patrnos do not lie in the same line.
After His ascension, Jesus bears somaticall}r, also, our human
nature. The question with regard to His speaking from
heaven, therefore, is simply whether Jesus descended in order
to speak with Paul from the ordinary distance, or whether this
speaking took place in a way similar to what is indicated to us
by the telephone. With the speaking of God in the address,
on the other hand, the somatic remains Avanting ; hence, also,
the organs of speech by which to form the words. The ques
tion, therefore, here remains whether indeed this sound of a
voice was produced by the vibration of the air-waves, or
whether in the tympanum of the hearer a sensation was
occasioned similar to what we occasion by the inflection of
our voice. " He that planted the ear, shall he not hear ?
He that formed the eye, shall he not see? " (Ps. xciv. 9). In
like manner, is not God, who has established for us so wondrous
a relation of voice, organs of speech, waves of air, tympa
num, auditory nerve and consciousness, Himself able to use
each of these, His creatures, and apply them in like manner
as He appointed and maintains them for us from moment

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 487

to moment by His omnipresent omnipotence ? There is no
room here for choice, since the more subjective interpretation
is equally intricate, or, if you please, equally divinely-natu
ral, as the more objective. Neither does the occurrence on
the way to Damascus, when the bystanders about Paul did
not hear what he heard, offer any explanation; simply be
cause the speaking of the glorified Christ rests upon the
somatic basis, which is not present with God, and the tele
phone even now shows how one can hear what the other
does not observe. Whether, therefore, the address was
accomplished by God's working on the air-waves, or merely
upon the tympanum, the same effect wrought by us when we
use our organs of speech, cannot be decided ; if only we hold
fast to the fact that the person addressed heard words in his
own language, in the same way as though he were spoken to
by his neighbor.

Merely for the sake of completeness we add in the third
place the impulse. By itself the impulse is nothing else than
the " being moved " (^epeaOaC) of 2 Pet. i. 21, in entire agree
ment with the "moving" Q2S of Judg. xiii. 25. This " mov
ing " indicates merely that the one moved has received a push,
a touch which has driven him out from his repose, in the full
sense " an impulse urging the mind." "And the spirit of God
came upon Saul " (Pnitril), in 1 Sam. xi. 6, has precisely the
same meaning. The most forcible example of this impulse,
however, occurs in Jer. vi. 11 and Jer. xx. 9, collato 7 ; in both
of which Jeremiah testifies that he experienced in his heart
an impulse so overpowering that, try as he might, he was not
able to offer resistance to it until it became to him "as a
burning fire shut up in his bones." This impulse we num
ber among the subjectively present means, for the reason that
the poet and artist in general speak of similar experiences.
In the " Deus est in nobis, agitante calescimus illo," an allied
sensation announces itself, which is even experienced by the
writer of prose, when, as the French call it, he moves en veine.
Such an impulse also forms the background of heroism.
The hero feels in himself an impulse to action which he

488 § 8-2. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

cannot explain, either from the world about him or from his
world within. To him as well as to the artist this impulse is
a mystery. The question whether such an impulse from the
world of mysteries is not connected with the basis of genius
in such select spirits, need not detain us here. Nothing pre
vents us from allowing that such a basis was also present in
the whole personality of Jeremiah. lie even knew himself
to be prepared for his calling from his mother's womb. But
even if this impulse in connection with inspiration is noth
ing else than the use of what is present in the subject, and
the application of that for which he had the susceptibility, this
impulse here bears nevertheless a peculiar stamp, insomuch
as it always occurs as an impulse of the Holy Ghost. This
is a closer definition, which certainly concedes the fact
that God the Lord can cause such an impulse to come to
us in the centrum of our psychical life ; but now employs
it for a definite purpose, limits it to the sphere of the holy,
and places it in connection with the entire plan of Reve
lation, which He is in the act of giving. The " clothing '"
(vT5^), however closely allied to the " moving " (DSfi), may
not be placed on a line with the impulse. The former indi
cates the sensation, by which he who was apprehended feels
himself enveloped and overcome as by an unknown power.
It refers to a sensation, which, far from being an incitement
to action, rather impedes and paralyzes. The C"E makes
active, the tTD'P passive.

The second class of subjective means of inspiration in
cludes the tardemah, " sleep " (HfcYiri), the cluilom, kk dream "
(Dv?n), and the chazon, '-vision" (fNH)«

The Tardemah, which occurs with Adam in Gen. ii. 21,
Abraham in Gen. xv. 12, and Saul in 1 Sam. xxvi. 12, is men
tioned as a deep sleep, which falls upon a person from with
out. " Fall " ( ;£3) is the constant word with which this
" sleep " is construed, and while at one time it says that the
Lord caused such a sleep to fall, at another time it says
(1 Sam. xxvi. 12) that this deep sleep from the Lord hn<l

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 489

fallen upon them. The same word occurs in Job iv. 13 and
xxxiii. 15 to indicate a very deep sleep, which falleth upon
men, in slumberings upon the bed, but as shown by the connec
tion in both cases, as a prelude to a Divine revelation ; while
in Isaiah xxix. 10 such sleep is mentioned in an unfavorable
sense, by way of a figure, to express a spirit of entire dul-
ness and insensibility which should be poured out upon the
people. This last, therefore, is a sleep in a metaphorical
sense, for which reason it reads " the spirit of deep sleep,"
and consequently " pour " ("]D3), and not " fall " (733),
is used as verb. In all other places, on the other hand, the
Tardemah is taken in its real sense, and occurs again and
again as an absolute ansesthesis, which is effected by God
upon the person, in order in this entirely passive state to
cause an entirely other world to reveal itself to his inner con
sciousness, or as was the case with Adam, to operate upon
him in a violent way. The narcotic sleep offers itself as
analogy to this, and especially in the case of the violent
operation which Adam underwent, one thinks naturally of
the condition produced by chloroform or of the first effects
of strychnine. But though it appears from these analogies
that human nature is susceptible to such a state of absolute
insensibility, the action which took place remains never
theless an effect of what God directly wrought, and so
far as the nature of the psychical life during this sleep
is concerned, it is an action of a different sort. It makes
the impression of an entire liberation of the psyche from the
connection which through the body it has with its surrounding
world : a leading back of the psychic life into its centrum,
and in that centrum a disclosure to the psyche of a mys
terious world, in which God comes to it and speaks to it.
A form of revelation particularly noteworthy, because evi
dently this Tardemah does not enter into this life, but iso
lates the person, to whom the revelation comes, from this
life, and then deals with him according to the law which
applies to another than this earthly existence.

490 §82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF IXSI'IU AUTON [Div. Ill

The " dream " bears a different stamp. In the first place,
here sleep or slumber maintains its common character ;
and, secondly, revelation-dreams exhibit almost always the
form of our common dreams, in so far as in these dreams
also an isolated drama is seen by the ego of the dreamer.
The world of dreams is still a mystery to us. No one
can tell whether in sleep one dreams only when on awak
ening one remembers it, or whether one always dreams
when asleep but that as a rule in awaking one has no
remembrance of it. Our dreams bear very different char
acters. In the common dream all connection is wanting

with the actual condition, consisting in the fact that we lie
in bed ; but with the nightmare one dreams mostly of excit
ing experiences which overtake us while we lie there. In
what is more slumber than sleep we dream that we lie awake
and are not able to get asleep. He who saw us slumber
knows that we slept, but to us no transition took place from
our day into our night consciousness. The content of our
dreams generally is made up from images and remembrances
which lie in orderly arrangement in our mind, but now
appear ofttimes before us in entirely different combinations.
Generally the outlines of the images in our dreams are vague,
but often they are so sharply drawn, especially in the night
mare, that what we see wre could readily reproduce in a
drawing. There are dreams which as mere play of the
imagination pass away ; but there are also dreams which
work lasting effects, which discover one to himself, and
dreams which are not free from guilt. Holy and demo
niacal influences often work side by side in our dreams.
Whether indeed this wondrous world of our dreams simply
shows the aimless movement of the images in us. or whether
these dreams are the result of the activity of our spirits in
our sleep, and constitute a component part of the spirit's
activity, remains an absolute secret to us. This, however,
may be said, that our dreams cannot be verified by us. that
they are not consciously produced by ns, but that they leave
the impression of a drama shown to us by some one outside
of ourselves, in which we ourselves are concerned, without

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 491

knowing how, and by which an outside power leads us invol
untarily into scenes which arise without our aid.

It must not be said, however, that the dream in reve
lation is nothing else than a common dream, in which, sim
ply, other images appear. Not in the ordinary sense, but
undoubtedly in a pregnant sense (sensu praegnanti), it is
said in 1 Sam. xxviii. 6 : " And when Saul inquired of the
Lord, the Lord answered him not, neither by dreams, nor
by Urim, nor by prophets." Three distinct revelation-forms
are here mentioned in which Saul might have received an
answer, and of these three the dream is one. And it is note
worthy that next to false prophets the pseudo-dreamers also
are separately mentioned as " the dreamers of dreams " in
Deut. xiii. 1, 3. Hence he who dreamed such a dream did
by no means at his awrakening entertain the opinion that it
had been a common dream, which he could safely pass by
and forget ; but he lived under the impression that something
had been shown or told him which was possessed of symbolic
or actual reality. The difference, therefore, between these
two kinds of dreams was clearly perceived. This much,
indeed, may be said, that in the scale of the means of reve
lation " the dream " does not stand high. The " dream "
is, indeed, the common means of revelation for those who
stand outside of the sacred precincts, such as Abimelech, Pha
raoh, Nebuchadnezzar. The false prophets imitated nothing
so easily as the dream (see Jer. xxiii. 32) ; and according as
the revelation becomes richer and clearer, the dream becomes
rarer. Neither with Moses, nor with the Christ, nor with
the apostles do we find the dream mentioned as a revelation-
form. When this dream was real, it consisted in this, that
in the dream God appeared and gave His charge. When it
was half-symbolic, as at Bethel, then the appearance of God
took place in a given surrounding. And if it was purely
symbolical, as with Pharaoh, then it needed the interpreta
tion (f'nrisJ), and was in itself unintelligible and incomplete.
Revelation, therefore, by the symbolical dream consists of
two parts : the dream itself and its interpretation, both
of which bear a supernatural character. Every effort to

492 §82. THK INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Uiv. Ill

explain the interpretation us u simple application of the
rules of symbolism is vain, from the fact that in the case
of both Joseph and Daniel the interpretation of the dream is
not given by those who were versed in symbolism, but they
were unable to do this, and it is given only by men who stood
outside of this peculiar science, and who frankly declared
that this interpretation was no fruit of their ingenuity, but
of Divine suggestion. The peculiar character of the revela
tion-dream, therefore, consisted in this, that the person to
whom it came saw, indeed, the scene or drama in a similar
way as with so-called common dreams, in his night-con
sciousness; but what he saw and heard was no product of
the hidden workings in his own psychical life, but of an act
of God in him. That, nevertheless, the drama in these
dreams \vas generally formed from remembrances and images
that were present in the memory and in the imagination of
the dreamer, does not conflict with this in the least. As
with internal address and external address the conceptions
and words maintain the connection with the subjective nature
of the person addressed, it is self-evident that a similar con
nection existed in the dream between what was present in
the subjective imagination as constitutive element, and what
God showed him. Only thus was it rational.

The vision bears almost the same character as the dream,
with this difference, however, that the dream occurs when
one sleeps, while the vision appears on the horizon of our
inner consciousness when one is aivake. As little as the
dream, however, is vision a phenomenon foreign to our nat
ure, which occurs exclusively in the economy of revelation.
What is exceptional, therefore, by no means lies in the vision,
but in this, that God the Lord makes use of the visionary capa
city of our psyche, by which to introduce something into our
consciousness. It must be granted that the dream is more com
mon than the vision, but this is no proof that the visionary does
not belong to our nature. No one, indeed, will exclude from
our human nature a thirst and talent for art, even though this

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 493

Aesthetic power, with most people, never passes the poten
tial stage ; and such is the case with the visionary capacity.
Whether or not it will discover its existence depends upon
the inner and outward disposition of the person. In the East
the chance for this is better than in the West. The Semitic
race developed this capacity more strongly than the Indo-
Germanic. By one temperament its development is favored;
by another weakened. In times of excitement and gen
eral commotion, it is more usual than in days of quiet and
rest. He who is aesthetically disposed becomes more readily
visionary than the intellectualist. Sensitive nerves court the
vision more than what have been called nerves of iron. Psy
chically diseased conditions are more favorable to the vision
ary than the healthy and normal ; and often before dying a
peculiar visionary condition appears to set in, which is ex
ceedingly worthy of note. Vivid imagination forms the
transition between the common wakeful consciousness and
real vision, which operates in a threefold form. It is strong
est when one becomes agitated by a phantom, especially
when this is occasioned by an evil conscience. Macbeth
sees everywhere the image of Duncan, the king he murdered,
and in his inquiry whether that image is real, he is unable
to distinguish appearance from reality. Of an entirely dif
ferent nature is what is called "absent-mindedness," i.e. a
life in another world than the real, either as the result of
much study and thought, or of the reading of history or
novels. This is carried so far by some people, that the very
members of their family affect them strangely at times, and
they imagine themselves to be in the company of their novel he
roes. Finally the third form is the vision of the artist, in whose
spirit looms the image, which from his spiritual view lie will
paint on the canvas or chisel in marble. But these are not
visions in the real sense, since the horizon of our inner view
here still remains subject to the verification of our conscious
ness. And this is the very thing lost with vision. Images
and forms then rise before us, which force themselves upon us
as an outside power, repress the autonomous activity of our
imagination, and bring us outside of ourselves. Then one

494 § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

is awake, and sits, stands, walks, or rides, and meanwhile
loses himself, and sees sometimes close at hand sharply out
lined images in colors and in forms, which, even when the
vision departs, leave him a sharp and clear impression, so
startlingly vivid that he can scarcely make himself believe
it was not reality. Hyperesthesis can introduce such illusory
conditions, and can even assume the form of monomania
and be a precursor of insanity. In the " Fixed Idea "
(Zwangvorstellung), also, a visionary image may obtrude
itself upon us against our will. And finally we observe,
that vision occurs in rest, in action, in dialogue, and even
with the adoption of the person in the drama of the vision.
But in whatever form it occurs, it is always character
istic of the vision that the person who sees it ceases to be
master in his own consciousness and in his own imagination,
and is nothing but a spectator, while another power is active
within him.

With this general discrimination of that which is visual, it
is not in the least surprising that in the Holy Scripture the
vision is also attributed to false prophets (Is. xxviii. 7, Jer.
xiv. 14, Ezek. xii. 24, etc.), and that outside of Scripture
even, in history, the visionary plays such an important
role. When, therefore, in the Holy Scripture the vision
(jltn and nTTO, Gen. xv. 1) appears as a ilxed form, espe
cially of prophetical revelation, it must not be taken as though
there were anything uncommon in this vision ; but it should
be understood in the sense that God the Lord made use of
the capacity for visions in man in order to reveal to us His
will and His counsel. At best it may still be remarked that
the revelation vision often appears with a certain connexity
and continuity. Not some strange vision now, and again
one some years after, but the vision is constantly repeated in
a definite series, even introduced by a vision of a call, by
which all the visions become together the successive acts
of one mighty drama. Thus construed, the visionary phe
nomena are certainly subjected to a governing power, while
the visions themselves have nothing uncommon about them.
That which is uncommon consists exclusively in this, that

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 495

God the Lord announces Himself in the vision, that it is
He that shows what is seen, and that the visionary person
knows that he is dealing with God.

Of the content of the vision, it may be said that the same
remarks apply to it as apply to that of the " dream." The con-
rent is generally composed from the data which were present
in the imagination or in the memory of the visionary person ;
out from these data a new drama is composed, and in this
\vay all sorts of mysteries of the counsel of God are shown.
The difference, however, between the prophetic and apoca
lyptic vision is apparent. In the first the vision joins itself
to the historic reality, in the midst of which the prophet
lives, while in the Apocalypse the drama arises from the
hidden world and moves towards him. For which reason
the forms and images in the prophetic vision are mostly
known and common, while in the apocalyptic vision the
images are monstrous, or appear in a wondrous manner, and
sternly set themselves against every effort to reduce them to
a figure intelligible to us. Recall, for instance, the cheru
bim in Ezekiel, or the appearance of Christ to John on
Patmos, as sketched in Rev. i. 13—16. The content, however,
of such a vision is not always dramatically realistic, so that
it contains both speech and action. There are also visions
that are purely symbolical (such as the well-known visions
of the olive tree, the flying scroll, etc., of Zechariah),
which, just like the symbolical dream, miss their aim unless
an interpretation accompanies them. Wherefore, both in
Zechariah and in the Apocalypse of John we find this sym
bolic vision constantly followed by its interpretation.

The ecstasy needs no separate treatment here ; later, in con
nection with prophetical inspiration, it will come in its own
order. Ecstasy is distinguished from vision in degree of
intensity, but not in kind. As soon as the action of the
visionary power communicates itself to the motory nerves,
and consequently withdraws the muscular action from the
will of the person, ecstatic conditions follow, which according

496 §82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INS1TKATION [Div. Ill

to the intensity of the action exerted, art' weak in impulse or
overwhelming in their pressure. A single word is needed
here concerning niOft (Mar'ah, vision), which does not stand
on a line with ntn£ (Mach'zeh, vision). The mar'ah is to be
distinguished from the ehazon, in so far that the mar ah seldom
plays any part in the sphere of psychic-visions, and rather
indicates the seeing of a reality ivhieh reveals itself. Chazah
is a gazing at something that" requires effort, and in so far
indicates the psychical weariness which the seeing of visions
occasioned, while Ra'ah of itself indicates nothing more than
the perception of what passes before us. When a Mareli
appears, the seeing of this form or image is called the Mar* all.
Special mention of this Mar'ah occurs with Moses. After
him no prophet arose (I)eut. xxxiv. 10) " whom the Lord
knew face to face"; and since this "face to face" is chosen
by the holy apostle, by which to express the immediate
knowledge of the blessed, with Moses also it must be taken
to mean a seeing of the reality of heavenly things. In Num
bers xii. 6-8 it is said in so many words, that the Lord
reveals Himself to other prophets in a vision or in a dream,
but "my servant Moses is not so." With him the Lord
speaks "mouth to mouth,, even apparently (nsnttl), and not
in dark speeches ; and the similitude (rttlEn) of the Lord
shall he behold." J We need not enter here upon a study of the
character of this appearing of Jehovah, but we may say that
this is no seeing in the visionary condition, but rather the
falling away of the curtain behind which heavenly realities
withdraw' themselves from our gaze. This was a temporary
return of the relation in which sinless man in paradise saw
his God. Not continuously, but only in those moments
in which it pleased the Lord to reveal Himself to Moses
"with open face." A form of revelation which, of course, had
nothing in common witli the Christophany or Angelophany.

1 It is noteworthy that IN-'-: is here used for common vision. A devia
tion, which conies under the general rule, that a sharply drawn distinction
of conceptions and a consequent constant usage of words is foreign to the

Scripture.

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 497

In this pregnant sense the Vision forms of itself the tran
sition from the subjective to the objective means of revelation.
Distinction can here again be made to a certain extent
between such mediums of revelation (media revelationis) as
were present in the ordinary course of life, and those others
which in a supernatural way proceed from the special prin-
cipium ; even though it is self-evident that it is by no means
always possible for us to draw the boundary-line sharply
between the two. In itself, the birth of a person is a
common event; but when such a person is set apart and
anointed from the womb to a holy calling, in this very
birth already mingles the working of the special principium.
These objective means of revelation must claim our attention
here, because they also were made ancillary to inspiration.
This appears most forcibly in the case of the Christophany
and Angelophany, which is never silent, but always tends at
the same time to reveal to man what was hidden in God. This
applies also to the signs (niJTlN) in the widest sense, because
all these, the ordinary as well as the extraordinary, the per
manent as well as the transient, uttered audible speech, ex
tended to support a given revelation, to explain or to confirm
it. The field for this should therefore be taken as broadly as
possible. The whole appearing of Israel and its historic
experiences must here be brought to mind : all the difficul
ties between Israel and its neighbors ; the national conditions
which the Lord called into life in and about Israel ; the
covenant with His people ; the persons which the Lord
raised up in Israel and put in the foreground; the natural
phenomena which Israel observed ; the diseases that were
plagues to the people ; the tabernacle and temple-service,
— in short, everything comprised in the rich, full life that
developed itself in Israel. To this is added as a second factor,
but woven into the first, that series of extraordinary actions,
appearances and events which we are mistakenly wont to
view exclusively as miracles. It was under the broad and
overwhelming impression of this past, of this nation as a
whole, and of these events, that he grew up who was called
to extend the revelation, and was trained for that revelation ;

498 § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

which education was still more definitely accentuated by
personal surroundings and experiences.

But besides this general service which the objective phe
nomena rendered, both the ordinary and the extraordinary,
they tended at the same time, by inspiration, to reveal the
thoughts of God to the agents of His revelation. This
applies especially to the whole utterance of nature, in so far
as the veil, which by sin was put upon nature and upon our
eyes, was largely lifted in that higher life-circle of Israel, so
that the language of nature concerning "the glory of the
Lord, which iilleth the whole earth," was again both seen and
heard. It will not do to view the revelation of the power of
God in nature as an outcome of mechanical inspiration. It was
established organically, in connection with what the messengers
of God both saw and observed in nature. This revelation
assumes a different character, when the "rainbow," the
" starry heavens," and the " sand of the seashore " are em
ployed, not as natural phenomena, but in their symbolical
significance with respect to a definite thought of God. Only
then does that which is common in itself become a sign; as, for
instance, when Jesus points His disciples to the golden corn
fields, and speaks of " the fields, that are white for the har
vest." The speech, which in this sense goes forth from the
common phenomena of nature, can thus be strengthened by
the extraordinary intensity of their manifestations ; as, for
instance, the thunder in Ps. xxix. has become the voice
of the Lord — the lightning-bolt, more intensively violent in
Ps. xviii., the mighty storm-wind of Habakkuk iii., or these
three together upon Horeb. This significance can also be
emphasized by their strikingly noticeable succession, as in
1 Kings xix. 10-12. Striking events, like that meeting
with Melchizedek upon Abraham's return from war with
the mountainous tribes, may give, as here appears, an
entire series of thoughts from the revelation of God. What
is common in itself can become a sign, simply because
prophesied beforehand (for instance, 1 Sam. x. 7). And,
finally, all sorts of things that were common in themselves
can obtain a significance by their combinations or positions,

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 499

such as the tabernacle, together with all the things that
belonged to the sacred cultus ; the memorial stones in Jordan ;
the boards which Isaiah put up in the market-place ; the
scrolls of the law and Tephilloth, and even the iron pan of
Ezekiel. With all these things and phenomena, common in
themselves, the " sign " originates ; either because God at
taches a definite significance to them, or because they derive
that significance from history or from attending circumstances.
And it is not so much these things themselves, but much
more the significance, original or given to them, which,
understood by faith or indicated by a special inworking of
the Holy Spirit, rendered service as an instrument to reveal
and to inspire the thought of God.

This applied in still stronger measure to those extraordi
nary phenomena and events which are called " wonders "
(DSpitt), or, in narrower sense, are spoken of as wonderful
works (Niphleoth). The root from which these spring
has been spoken of in connection with our study of the
special principium, and the effort to explain them subjectively
may be said to have been abandoned. If it is entirely true
that they mostly fell to the share of believers, and that
unbelievers sometimes did not see what believers saw very
clearly, this affords not the least ground to subjectivize
the miracles as such, after the intention of the Holy Script
ure. Together with those single wonders, which one ob
served and another not, there are a number of others, which
revealed themselves with an overwhelming impression to all
that were present. Just remember the exodus from Egypt
and the miracles in the wilderness. Again, it may not be
forgotten that the simple presence of a fact is not enough to
cause it to be perceived. As often as our mind is abstracted,
and our attention refuses its action, it occurs that something
is said or done in our presence which escapes our notice. Of
this, therefore, nothing more need be said. All these medi
tation-theories have had their day, and nothing remains
except the absolute denial of the miracle on one hand, and
011 the other hand the frank confession of its reality. Mean
while, in the matter of inspiration, we are less concerned about

500 § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

the reality of the miracle, or the general revelation of God's
power, which it reveals, than about the sense, thought, or
significance which hides in these "wonderful works.'' In
those miracles and signs there also lies a language, and in the
matter of inspiration that language claims our attention.
This peculiar language lies in all the phenomena and events
which are extraordinary ; and therefore no distinction need
here be made between the Theophanies, the miracles in
nature, the miracles of healing and of destruction, etc. hi
all these miracles a thought of God lies expressed, and in the
matter of inspiration that thought of God is the principal
interest. For this reason, however, the reality should not
be looked upon for a moment as accidental or indifferent.
Without that reality even thought misses its ground in God.
and it is by this very union and combination of TO QV with the
mind that thought receives its ratification, and comes to us.
not as an idea suggested by ourselves, but as a communica
tion from God to us. The principal thought in all miracles
now is the thought of redemption. \Yhen the existing order
of things distresses us, and turns us pessimistic, and places
nature with its curse over against us and above us, as a power
against which all resistance is vain, the miracle proclaims
that that power is not the highest, that the heavens of brass
above us can be opened, and that there is still another reality,
entirely different from this order of things, which does not
clash with our moral aspirations, but is in harmony with
them. The world, such as it became by the curse, and now
is, under the tempering of that curse by common grace,
offends the only fixed point which the sinner retains in
his moral consciousness, viz. his sense of right. Wrong tri
umphs again and again, while innocence suffers. Hetween
the hidden life and outward conditions there is no harmony,
such as our sense of right postulates. It is this problem
which presented itself with great force in Israel, and for
which no solution is given except in the miracles. The
miracles voice a palingenesis which, first in the psychical
and after that in the physical world, shall hereafter dis
solve all dissonance in entire harmony. Every miracle is a

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 501

real prophecy of the parousia and of the restitution of all things
which it introduces. The miracle is the basis of the hope, in
that entirely peculiar significance which in Scripture it has
along with faith and love. It shows that something different
is possible, and prophesies that such it shall sometime be.
It is an utterance of that free, divine art, by which the
supreme artist, whose work of creation is broken, announces
the entire restoration of his original work of art, even in its
ideal completion. Hence there can be no question of a "vio
lation of the order of nature." This assumes that this order
of nature has obtained an independent existence outside of
God, and that at times God interferes with this independent
order of things. Every such representation is deistic at
heart, and in fact denies the immanent and omnipresent om
nipotence by which God supports the whole cosmos from
moment to moment, and every order in that cosmos. The
miracle, therefore, may not be interpreted as being anything
else than an utterance of the special principium, taken as
principium essendi. An utterance which, preformative and
preparative, and thereby at the same time annunciatory,
views and ends in the parousia. The Niphleoth, therefore,
include the spiritual as well as the material miracles. They
react savingly against sin as well as against the misery which
flows from sin.

Hence the miracles are no disconnected phenomena, but
stand in connection with each other, and, as was shown above,
they form one organic whole, the centre of which is Christ
as the " Wonderful " and its circumference His people. The
great central miracle, therefore, is the Incarnation, which in
turn lies foreshadowed in the Christophanies. With those
Christophanies the manifestation consisted in this, that, as in
paradise God had created the body of Adam, He likewise here
provided a human body, which presently returned to nothing,
and merely served to render the appearance as of a man pos
sible. In the plains of Mamre Abraham does not perceive at
first that he is dealing with anything else than a common
human occurrence. Even where angel appearances are spoken
of, we may not represent angels as winged beings. Angels

502 § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

have no bodies; they are spirits; and they appear with wings
only in the symbolic representation of the vision. In real
appearances they always stand before us in the form of a man.
All this, however, was altogether outside our nature. It gave
us to see what was like unto our nature, not what was of our
nature. Thus Christ is the "Wonderful" (Is. ix. 6), and in
connection with this there arranges itself about His person
the whole miracle-cyclus of His baptism, the temptation in the
wilderness, the transfiguration upon Tabor, the voice in the
temple, the angel in Gethsemane, the signs at the cross,
the resurrection and the ascension, in order to be succeeded
by the second miracle-cyclus of the parousia. In like manner
we see that entire series of Niphleoth, or mighty works,
going out from Christ and becoming established by Him in
the sphere of the elements, in the vegetable kingdom, in the
animal kingdom, and among men — a series of miracles, the
afterglow of which still gleams in the miracles of the apostles.
Peter, indeed, testifies (Acts iii. 16) that the authorship of
the healing of the cripple lay in Christ.

In this organic connection the one group of miracles ap
pears before us which is immediate!}' connected with Christ.
To this is joined a second group of miracles which does not
point to the Christ, but to the appearance and the mainte
nance of Hi a people. The fixed point in this group is the
miraculous birth of Isaac, placed in the foreground as the
great " wonder v by Paul in Horn. iv. IT sq. AVliat lies
behind this merely serves to prepare the ground, and render
the appearance of God's people possible. Only by the call
ing of Abraham and the birth of Isaac, when he and Sarah
had become physically incapable of procreation, is this people
born upon this prepared ground, and come to its incarna
tion. This was the great mystery. After this follows in the
second place the miracle-cyclus of Egypt, of the wilderness,
and of the taking of Canaan. Then the miracles which
group themselves about Elijah and Elisha in conflict with
the worship of Baal. And finally the group of miracles
which, outside of Canaan, is seen in the midst of the
heathen, when the great conflict between Israel and the

CHAP. II] § 82. THE INSTRUMENTS OF INSPIRATION 503

nations was temporarily ended with the apparent destruc
tion of Israel, as with its Golgotha.

Of course it extends beyond the lines of our task to
work out more fully this concentric exposition of miracles.
We merely wanted to show that in this entire phenomenon
of miracles there lies one continuous manifestation of the
great predominant thought of Redemption. This manifesta
tion by itself was not enough to cause the thought that
expressed itself in it to be understood and to be transmitted.
To the " handling with hands " (^rn\a^av) of 1 John i. 1 is
added the " seeing " (Oewpdv), and it is only by that seeing
that insight is obtained into the meaning and significance of
the miracle. So much, however, is evident that the sight of
these several miracles, or the reading of the narrative, counts
among the means used by God in the revelation of Himself
to the holy men of old. This is true in a twofold way :
First, in so far as the miracles occasioned a deep impression
of God's presence and of His overwhelming omnipotence, by
which the ban, put upon believers by the superior power of
the cosmos, was broken, and they were set free and faith
was wakened. And secondly, because in each miracle by
itself and in the mutual connection of all these wonderful
works one grand, ever- varied thought of God expressed itself,
the language of which only needed to be understood in order
to have one's spiritual consciousness enriched. It should
be noted, however, that the holy men of God separated that
God who manifests Himself in His miracles, so little from
the God who created and maintains the cosmos, that in
their perception the glory of the Lord in creation and in
nature constantly identified itself with that other glory
which He revealed to and in His people. The last four
Psalms show this most plainly : First, in Ps. cxlvii. 1-11
the glory of God in nature is sung, in verses 12-14 the
glory of God's people appears, in verses 15-18 the power of
God over nature is again exalted, and finally we read, " He
sheweth his word unto Jacob, his statutes and his judgments
unto Israel. He hath not dealt so with any nation" Thus
to the singer the Niphleoth of the natural and special prin-

uO-i § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

cipium form one grand whole, while the antithesis is not
lost for a moment. In the same way, in Ps. cxlviii. all that
lives not only, but every creature that exists, is poetically
called upon to praise Jehovah, while the manifestation of
the special principium asserts itself in the end, when it
reads : u And he hath lifted up the horn of his people, the
praise of all his saints ; even of the children of Israel, a peo
ple near unto him. Hallelujah." And comparing Ps. cxlix.
with cl. it is seen that in Ps. cxlix. the glory of the Lord
among His people is the theme of the Hallelujah, while
in Ps. cl. it is His greatness as creator and preserver of
everything. Doubtless the singers and prophets of Israel
owed this majestic conception of nature, which is entirely
peculiar to Israel, to the prayer (Ps. cxix. 18), Open thou
mine eyes, that I may behold, etc. ; only by the working of
the special principium were they enabled to see the great
ness of the Lord in the utterances of the natural princip
ium ; but with this result that they by 110 means viewed the
miracles as standing isolated by themselves, but always with
the Niphleoth in the realm of nature for their background.

Thus we see that apart from real inspiration itself, all sorts
of subjective as well as objective mediums of inspiration were
employed by God, by which either to prepare His servants
for inspiration, to impart it unto them, or to enrich, ratify,
or explain its content.

§ 83. The Factors of Inspiration

In the study of the factors of inspiration proper we begin
with a sharp distinction between inspiration as a means of
revelation and inspiration of the Holy Scripture. If, for in
stance, I take the fiftieth Psalm, the questions may be asked
how, in what way, and on what occasion the singer was in
spired with the content of this song, and what the relation is
between what he himself sang and what God sang in and
through him ; but these are entirely different from the ques
tion by what action of the Holy Spirit this ancient song, in
just this form, was adopted into the hoi}- codex, by which it
became a word of God to His whole church. For the pros-

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 505

ent, however, this latter question as to the special inspiration
of the Holy Scripture may be passed by. It can only be con
sidered when the inspiration of revelation has been explained
more fully. The thought cannot be entertained that a
prophet like Amos, as an inspired person, may never have
spoken or written anything more than those nine chapters we
now have as oracles of God in his name. In length these nine
chapters are scarcely equal to one short sermon. The asser
tion, therefore, is none too strong, that he spoke under
prophetic inspiration at least twenty times as much, while
whatever has been lost has nothing to do with the inspiration
of the Holy Scripture. With these nine short chapters only
can there be a question of this. The two kinds of inspiration,
therefore, must be kept apart, and we must consider first
what came first, viz. inspiration as the means employed of
God, by which to cause His revelation-organs to speak, sing,
or write what He desired and purposed. It cannot be de
nied that in the Holy Scripture, even for the greater part,
utterances occur from the revelation-organs which make
the impression of being the utterance of their subjective
consciousness, but back of which a higher motive appears to
have been active, flowing from another consciousness stand
ing above them. In Psalm xxii., for instance, a speaker is
evidently present who moans from the depths of his own
sorrows, but before the song is ended the impression is
received that an altogether different " man of sorrows "
addresses you. Nothing derogatory is here implied to the
more objective medium of inspiration treated in the former
section, by which foreign words and scenes affected the ear
and eye of the men of God. But in the Holy Scripture
these objective means of revelation are not the rule, and the
greater part of the content of the Scripture presents itself
as having come forth subjectively from the human author,
while nevertheless in his subjective utterance there worked
a higher inspiring Trvevpa ; and it is properly this action of
the Holy Spirit which here introduces inspiration as means
of revelation in its narrowest sense. For this reason inspira
tion bears one character in lyric poetry, and another with

506 §83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

the prophets, and still another with the Chokma, with Christ
and with the apostles, so that each of these kinds of inspira
tion must separately be considered. But these lyrical, pro
phetical, chokmatic inspirations, etc., have something in
common, and this must first be explained.

Inspiration rests upon the antithesis between the Spirit
of God and the spirit of man, and indicates that the Spirit of
God enlists into His service the spirit of man, disposes of it,
and uses it as His conscious or unconscious organ. In this
the human spirit is either more active or passive, in pro
portion as it has greater or lesser affinity to what God will
reveal by it. If that affinity is entire, as is the case in
some apostolic epistles, the action of the human spirit will
seem to be the sole factor, and inspiration will scarcely be
observed ; while, on the other hand, where this affinity is
very limited, as is the case with the most of Ezekiel's visions,
the human spirit appears as little more than a phonograph,
which serves to catch the action of the Spirit of God.
This inspiration lies grounded in the nature of our human
spirit. This is no isolated potency, but one that is pervasive.
Our spirit can be affected by other spirits, and this can be
done in two ways : either by entering in by the periphery,
in order thence to approach the centrum of our spirit ; or by
entering into that centrum, in order thence to extend itself
to the periphery. A great orator approaches his hearers in
the periphery of their consciousness, and thence penetrates
to the roots of their sense of self ; while, on the other hand,
the biologist or hypnotizer finds a means in the nervous
system by which to penetrate at once to the centrum of the
human spirit, and is able from thence to reach the periph
ery in such a way that the mesmerized subjects think and
speak as he ivills. Such a central inworking upon the
human spirit goes out from the Spirit of God, and by in
version from Satan. Our spirit in our innermost being is
not independent, but dependent, and, even without inspira
tion (taken in its narrower sense of means of revelation as
Theopneustic), workings and inspirations from the spiritual
world go out to the centrum of the life of our soul, which

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 50V

affect us for good or for evil. The poetical impulse, the
inner promptings in every department of art, heroism, en
thusiasm, animation in speech and writing, the stimulus of
genius, premonition, and in connection with this the entire
chapter of divination and all that it entails, show incontest-
ably that our consciousness is not a boat propelled solely by
the oar-stroke of our own exertions, but that it may likewise
carry a sail which may be filled by winds over which we
have no control.

Passing by Satanic inspiration, which will be discussed
later in connection with the energumens, this general inspi
ration finds its ground first of all in the omnipresent imma
nence of Crod. (" In him we live and move and have our
being.") There is not merely an "of him " and a "through
him," but also an " in him." He is the fountain of all good,
not in the sense that now and then we fill our life-jar with
waters from that fountain, and afterward live of ourselves,
but in the sense that, like plants, we flourish by the side
of that fountain, because the root of our life is constantly
refreshed by waters from that fountain. This relation of
God is defined, in the second place, more closely by our
creation after the image of Grod. If one may say so, there
is a general inspiration of God in all nature. It is lasting
and limited in animal instinct, and in a measure even in
wine and in the stimulating agents of several medicines.
When a dog jumps in the water to save a child, there is an
inspiration of God in that animal ; and when thunder dis
tresses us, and fresh mountain air makes breathing an ex
hilaration, there is inspiration of a higher power. But with
man, this inspiration assumes a special form by virtue of the
affinity between God's Spirit and ours. God is Spirit. This
is, according to Christ, TO 6Wa>5 ov of His being, and conse
quently with us also the deepest point of our human life lies in
our pneumatical existence. In so far as our nature is created
after the image of God in original righteousness, this excel
lency could be lost and our nature become depraved; but not
our creation after God's image so far as it pertains to its essence
(quod ad substantiam) . Our human nature is unassailable-

50-S §8:;. TIIK FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Dn. Ill

The capability of having consciousness, which is the dis
tinguishing mark of the pneumatical, has not been lost, and
in this lies man's openness to inspiration (Inspirationxfaldg-
keif). Hence, inspiration can work in the unconverted as
well, as was the case with Balaam and Caiaphas, and though
it generally occurs in connection with conversion, it is by no
means dependent upon this. The creation of man as a pneu
matic being opens the possibility of communion between his
spirit and the Spirit of God, by which the thoughts of God
can be carried into his thoughts. To which is to be added, in
the third place, that man is created, not as one who is always
the same, but as a self-developing being, and that it is his
end (reA-o?) that God shall be in him and he in God, so that
God shall be his temple (Rev. xxi. 22), and he a temple
of God (Eph. ii. 21). This, likewise, offers the means by
which the influence of the Spirit of God upon his spirit
can be supremely dominant.

Care, however, should be taken against a confusion of
terms, lest by an exchange with its metonymy inspiration
itself escape from our grasp. Inspiration is not the same
as communion. This, indeed, places the ego of man over
against the ego of God, and makes them wed or enter into
covenant, but ever in such a way that the ego of man accepts
the communion, enters upon it, and lives in accordance with
it, — a unity, but one which rests upon a duality. Neither
may we confuse the ideas of inspiration and mystical union.
This, indeed, rests upon the necessary and natural union
between the head and members of one organism and the
body of Christ, and is not grounded in the consciousness,
but in the essentia. The mystical union makes us one plant
with Christ. Neither, again, may inspiration be confused
with regeneration and with its consequent enlightening. To
illustrate : inspiration is the use of the telephone, in order to
communicate a thought, while regeneration is the act which
repairs the telephone when out of order. With such
a man as Isaiah, regeneration was the means to save him
unto life eternal, and inspiration to make him of service to
the Church of God. Every effort, therefore, to interpret

CIIAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 509

inspiration from an ethical basis, and to understand it as a
natural fruit of sanctification, must be resisted. The possi
bility of inspiration does not depend upon the normal or
abnormal condition of the nature of man, but lies in his
nature as a pneumatic being, which as such is open to the
central inworking of the Spirit of God.

Hence, with inspiration we deal with three factors :
(1) with the spirit that inspires (spiritus inspirans), (2) with
the spirit of man that is inspired (spiritus hominis cui inspi-
ratur), and (3) with the content of what is inspired.

In God who inspires, inspiration assumes thought and will.
He who pantheistically denies consciousness in God or
merely darkens it, abandons every idea of inspiration. For
this very reason God is ever revealed unto us in the Holy
Scripture as the light, and this light in God is pictured as
the brightness from which the light of self-consciousness
is ignited in our spirit. "In thy light shall we see light."
Nothing, therefore, can be present in our consciousness but
God knows it. " For there is not a word in my tongue, but,
lo. O Lord, them knowest it altogether." That this does not
refer to our wrords merely, appears sufficiently clearly from
the statement, that " the righteous God trieth the heart and
reins " (Ps. vii. 9) ; for by that word " reins " the deepest root
is indicated in the subsoil of our conscious soul-life. The most
complete transparency of pure, clear consciousness is like
wise a characteristic of the being of God, by which His the-
istic existence stands or falls. The ethical representation
must, therefore, be dismissed, that inspiration gives rise
to certain perceptions in us, which only afterwards produce
thoughts in our human consciousness. At heart, this is
nothing but the pantheistic representation of a deep (/3v#oV)
out of which the thought separates itself in us only. If
it is asked whether consciousness in God is anthropomorphic,
and whether our world of thought is not limited by and bound
to the finite, we readily reply: that the question contains some
truth. The apostle himself acknowledges that our knowledge
is a knowledge "in part," and that all our gnosis will sometime
pass away, in order to make room for a higher "seeing."

510 § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

He, however, who infers from this, that for this reason there
is no consciousness in God, contradicts the apostle's assertion
that even to us a still higher form of consciousness is com
ing. If consciousness could assume one form only, even the
finite form of our consciousness by day, the conclusion would
certainly be correct. But this is not true, since conscious
ness has many forms, one by day and one by night, one
without and one in ecstasy, one now and one in the realm
of glory, which proves it to be entirely natural that con
sciousness in God has its own Divine form. Neither does
this end the question. That Divine consciousness has affin
ity to our human consciousness. " We shall know, even as
we are known." If it is self-evident, that our future con
sciousness must stand in the genetic connection of identity
with our present consciousness, this of itself provides the
bridge which connects the divine consciousness with ours.
Even among men, the consciousness of a child differs from
the consciousness of a man, and yet the greater can enter
the consciousness of the child. Consciousness differs with
each and all, but true love is able to place itself in another's
place ; yea, in another's consciousness. With reference to
its formal side, susceptibility for learning foreign languages
sufficiently shows that consciousness is possessed of very
great pliability, and is by no means frozen solidly in its
form. If these are features in us of the image of God,
we may safely conclude, that in the consciousness of God
(1) there is affinity to our consciousness ; and (2) the
possibility is found of entering into the form of the con
sciousness of another. This becomes a certainty, when
you remember, that God Himself has fixed the form of our
consciousness, and has first thought it in this way before
He created it. Our form of consciousness, therefore, is not
a strange something to God, for He knew it before He
enriched us with it. And though we grant unconditionally
that the thoughts of God may not be assumed as clothed in
our forms, we maintain that God is able to cast them into
our consciousness-form, and hence is also able to think them
in our form.

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 511

Next to this clear consciousness of thought, inspiration
assumes in God who inspires the ivill to inspire this or that
thought. This element of the will was neglected in former
times, but in the face of the pantheistic representation of in
voluntary communication it now deserves a special emphasis.
A twofold inspiration goes out from us : one is voluntary,
the other involuntary. Voluntary when purposely we try
to exert a certain influence ; involuntary when our act or
person exerts an influence independently of our will. This
is so, because our self-consciousness is exceedingly limited,
so that we observe a very small part only of the working
that goes out from us. With God, however, this is not so.
He is not like the star that sparkles without knowing it, but
is transparent to Himself to the deepest depths of His Being
and the utmost circumference of His action. Here, there
fore, is no door that stands open for every passer-by to look
in at will, but a door which on each occasion is opened.
Inspiration of itself, therefore, presupposes in God the will
and the purpose, from His Divine consciousness, to intro
duce into the consciousness of man this or that thought,
transposed and interpreted into our form of thought, and
thus to reveal it among men.

The second factor that claims our attention is the spirit
that is inspired ; viz. the spirit of man. The nature of this
human consciousness may differ materially, and this differ
ence may arise from its disposition as well as from its con
tent. With reference to the disposition there can be affinity,
neutrality, or opposition. In the case of the venerable
Simeon in the Temple, there was a strong affinity of mind
and inclination to the inspiration that was given him. The
disposition of Jeremiah in Chapter xx. of his oracles bears
witness to a strong opposition against inspiration ; while
in Chokmatic poetry the disposition of the singer does
not appear, and thus remains neutral. Of course, with
affinity and sympathy the subjective expression is far more
strongly apparent; with an antipathetic disposition more

51 -J §8:). TIIK FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

violence must be done to the man of (iod ; and with a neu
tral disposition neither the subject nor the feelings of the sub
ject come to light. With a sympathetic disposition and a
neutral mind both, it is possible that the revelation-organ
itself should not observe that inspiration takes place, as is seen
in many a Psalm and in the prophecy of Caiaphas, John xi.
50 and 52. The strongest possible expression for inspiration
is the u Now this he said not of himself." Connected with
this appears also the difference between aphoristic, more con
tinuous, and altogether continuous inspiration. We catch
inspired words from the lips of Zechariah and Simeon, with
whom it is restricted to one single inspiration ; we read of
prophets and apostles, with whom repeated inspiration fre
quently bore an official character ; and in Christ, of whom
it is written that the Spirit not merely descended upon Him,
but also remained upon Him, we see an inspiration in His
human consciousness, which ever continues, — "As I hear, I
judge *' (John v. 30).

But the content at hand in their consciousness must like
wise be taken into account. By consciousness in this con
nection we do not merely understand the action of thinking,
but also, sensation, perception, and observation in the general
sense. With a man of genius from the upper strata of society,
like an Isaiah, the content of this consciousness was, of course,
much richer than with Amos, who had lived in the country
among herdsmen ; and, on the contrary, poorer with James,
who originally was a fisherman, than with Paul, who had
attended the schools of learning. If, in such a conscious
ness, the conceptions and representations are already present
which are necessary for the oracle as its component elements,
the oracle needs merely to effect the new combination. If,
on the other hand, they are wanting, the material of imagery
for the symbolical manifestation must be borrowed from the
content of the imagination. Though, thus, the so-called aw-
T>)pr)(ri<; (i.e. our memory, our store of things) is in the lirst
place the all-important factor, the imagination is needful as
well, and not merely for the images in its portfolio, if we may
so express ourselves, as for what, perhaps, the imagination is

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 513

capable of doing with those images. Even outside of inspira
tion, with writers of note, you will see that series of images in
the foreground which are in harmony with their inner nature ;
and in proportion as the writer lives either by apprehension
or by conception, the images will lie loosely among his words
or they will dominate his style. The many-sided content of
the consciousness must not be estimated by what lies ready
for use at a given moment, but also by its almost forgotten
treasures. All that has ever gone through our memory has
left its impression behind, and we often discover that there
has been stored in our consciousness the memory of con
ditions, persons, names and conceptions, which, except
for some impulse from without, would never have recurred
again to our mind. And finally, to this content of our con
sciousness must be added all that which, outside of us, has
been chronicled and committed to writing or image, and
thus lies in reach to enrich our consciousness. The sig
nificance of this ready material in the consciousness, or of
whatever else our consciousness has at its disposal, be
comes plain at once, if we but recognize the organ of reve
lation to be a messenger who has something to communi
cate, on the part of God and in His name, to His Church.
If, for instance, a superior officer in the army has to employ
a captured farm-hand to send tidings to an inferior officer who
has command in some distant town, the entire communication
must be committed to writing, or, if the man is clever, be ex
plained to him clearly and in detail. If, on the other hand,
the officer sends an adjutant who saw the battle from begin
ning to end, and knows the position of the entire army, a hasty
word in passing whispered in his ear is sufficient, and quick
as lightning the adjutant rides to obey the given order.

It must not be imagined, however, that in the case of inspi
ration God the Lord is limited by this affinity of disposition, or
by this content of the consciousness. Most of the apocalyptical
visions rather prove the contrary. We have simply intended
to indicate that, as a rule, that affinity and that content of the
consciousness are employed by God as elements in inspiration.
This is true even theologically ; not as if God, for the sake of

514 § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

the success of Revelation, selected the most suitable persons
from among those who were accessible, but rather that He
Himself caused these men to be born for this purpose, predes
tined them for it, and caused them to spend their youth amid
such circumstances and surroundings, that in His own time
they stood in readiness as suitable instruments. As Jeremiah
declares that to him it was said : " Before I formed thee in
the belly I knew thee : and before thou earnest forth out of the
womb I sanctified thee. I have appointed thee a prophet unto
the nations" (Jer. i. 5). This constitutes the fundamental
thought which dominates the appearance of the revelation-
organs from first to last. The words, "I know thee by
name," in Ex. xxxiii. 12, indicate the same thing. And
what is said of the ideal prophet in Isa. xlix. 1, 2, 5, by
virtue of the comprehensive character of predestination, applies
to all. This predestination cannot be limited to these men
personally, for it embraces the whole sphere of life from
which they sprang and in which they appeared. Such in
spiration would simply have been inconceivable in England
or among any of our Western nations. Our consciousness
stands too greatly in need of sharp conceptions, visible out
lines and rigid analysis. Since the world of thought that
discovers itself to us in inspiration lies at first concentrated
in its centrum, from whence it only gradually proceeds, there
could be no question here of sharply drawn lines as the result
of rigid analysis. The lines of the acanthus leaf cannot be
admired so long as this leaf still hides in the bud. Inspira
tion, therefore, demanded a human consciousness that was
more concentrically constituted, and this you find in the
East, where dialectic analysis is scarcely known, while intui
tion is so much more penetrative, for which reason it describes
its content rather in images than in conceptions. Moreover,
intuitive consciousness lends itself more easily to that pas-
siveness which, in a measure, is needful with all inspiration.
The Western mind reacts more strongly and quickly against
impressions received; the Oriental has that passive recep
tivity by which he surrenders himself to perceptions and drifts
along with their current. He is more deeply inspired by nat-

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 515

ure, and therefore more susceptible to the Divine influence
(jrdcr^iv viro TOV 6eov~) which is the characteristic of all
inspiration. While we are more ready to speak, the Oriental
is more inclined to listen; he does not know what conver
sation is, in our sense of the word, and that very inclina
tion to listen aids his predisposition to inspiration. To this
we may add, that among the nations of the East, Israel
possessed these peculiarities in that modified form which pre
vented one-sidedness. It was Eastern, but formed the fron
tier against the West. The intuitiveness of the Israelitisb.
consciousness, therefore, did not easily turn into an extrava
gant fancifulness, neither was it lost in a deep revery. The
Jew possesses all needful qualities to secure a position of in
fluence for himself in the Western world. Within himself he
carried two worlds, and this rendered Israel more capable
than any other people of receiving inspiration and of repro
ducing it intelligibly to the Western world. Paul, the dia
lectician, and Zachariah, the seer of visions, were both from
Israel. In connection with this, the Jew in the East had
that peculiarity, which still marks the French of to-day, of
being inflamed by an idea, which is no result of logical
thought, but springs from national life. The promise given
to Abraham in Ur of the Chaldees becomes the pole-star to
Israel's life as a nation. That one animating thought ele
vates Abraham above Lot, and presently Jacob above Esau,
maintains Israel's independence in Egypt, appears again and
again during the period of the Judges, finds at length its
embodiment in the idea of the King, finds its acme in the
expectation of the Messiah, and preserves Israel in Babylon
under Antiochus Epiphanes, under Herod, and in its periods
of deformation. From the nature of the case, such an idea
animating an entire people is a valuable preparation for in
spiration. It accustoms the whole nation to live under a
higher inspiration. It has its disadvantages; life in an imagi
nary world may tempt to sin, as it did Tamar, and feeds false
hood especially, which is one of Israel's characteristic sins, but
this is the defect of its quality, and does not affect its excel
lence in the least.

51l) § So. THY. FACTOKS OF INSl'IRATIOX [D:v. Ill

If such \vas the general soil prepared in Israel fur inspira
tion, there was added to this in the second place that particu
lar factor, which intensified and specialized this predisposition
in individual persons. This took place in their creation, this
creation being taken in connection with their genealogical
origin, and going back, therefore, into the generations. But
with all the emphasis this genealogical connection deserves,
there is, nevertheless, the individual creation of the person,
the moulding of his disposition, the tuning of the harpstrings
of his heart, the endowment of him with charismata and
talents, and the quickening in him of what in lesser measure
was common to all his people. An election, if you please,
not to salvation, but to service, to the task of an holy voca
tion, together with the fitting out of the elect one with every
requisite for that service. The bow is provided, and also the
arrows in the quiver. What lies hidden in the natural dis
position is brought out by the leadings of Providence in
education and surroundings, — Moses at Pharaoh's court,
David as the shepherd lad, Peter and John the fishermen
on the waters of Gennesareth. The casting of the net, the
watching of the water's ripple, the quiet waiting of an almost
inexhaustible patience for higher power to send fish into the
net, and the constant readiness with fresh courage and hope of
blessing to begin anew, constitute a choice preparation of the
spirit for that restful and soulful abiding for the work of
grace, in which it is known that God alone brings souls into
His nets. To these leadings of Providence is added, as a
rule, the leadings of (/race, which God the Lord imparted to
His chosen organs of revelation. By this grace most of them
were personally regenerated, and thus themselves established
in the salvation, the inspiration of which fell to their share.
In an uncommon way this increased the affinity between
their own spirit and the Spirit of God, as well as between the
content of their consciousness and the content of their inspi
ration. Not in the sense, as stated above, that inspiration
itself might be explained from this ethical affinity. He
who affirms this virtually places the inspiration of prophets
and apostles in line with the animation of poets and preachers.

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 517

A virtuoso on the organ will work charms, if need be, from
a poor instrument ; but only when the organ is worthy of him
will his talent be shown in all its power : but who will saj^
that for this reason his playing proceeds from the excellence
of the organ ? No, the excellence is his who plays, and the
organ merely serves as instrument. In the same way, the
ethical excellence of the organs of revelation must certainly
be taken into account, but it may not be said that this ethical
excellence gave birth to inspiration. God alone is He who
inspires, and even Isaiah or John are never anything but
choice instruments, animated and tuned by God, who plays
on them His inspiration. The difference of disposition in
these instruments, however, determines the difference of
intensity of inspiration. As '' a virtuoso on the violin" can
only exhibit a part of his art on a violin of two strings, and
only on the full-stringed instrument can bring all his powers
into play, so the holy playing of inspiration that sounds in our
ears, is entirely different, far richer, and infinitely more inten
sive, when God makes use of a David or a Paul than when
Nahum comes from the woods or James' epistle is unrolled
before us. There are certainly degrees of inspiration. Hab-
akkuk affects one more mightily than Haggai. And with
the same organs of revelation inspiration is at one time much
richer and fuller than at another time, which undoubtedly
depends again upon the mood of the singer or writer. But
however necessary the close study of these degrees may be,
and however often we may be permitted to connect them
with the subjective disposition of the instrument used, never
theless, to derive inspiration itself from this, can never be
allowed. All these differences may modify, specialize, and
graduate the effect of inspiration, but inspiration itself does
not proceed from the consciousness of man, but always from
the consciousness and the will of God. All efforts to ex
plain inspiration ethically is a passing into another genus,
and is a leap from the ethical into the abstract life of our
consciousness.

Finally, there may be added the ready help which every
later inspiration found in that which had gone before, as well

518 § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

as in the progress of the revelation of salvation, to which it
ran parallel. The content of inspiration is not aphoristic.
The one rather builds upon the other. In its beginnings,
therefore, inspiration is mostly concentric and deep, and only
gradually passes over into detail and moves upon the surface.
As a rule, at least, the person to be inspired knew what
had formerly been inspired to others, and with these earlier
inspirations his own inspiration formed a concatenation of
ideas. It connected itself with these. It found in them a
thread which it spun to greater length. It is no inspiration
now in China, then again in Rome, presently in India or in
Elam, but an inspiration which uses men from one and the
same milieu of life, and which historically exhibits a certain con
tinuity. For which reason the very images perpetuate them
selves with a certain continuity, and certain forms and ways
of speech pass on from one to the other. Just bring to mind
the Hoot, the Slieplierd and the "sheep of his pasture.'' If on
account of this, numerous factors were present in the conscious
ness of the person about to be inspired for the use of Him
who inspires, the same applies to the actual dispensation of
grace in Israel. There is not merely a disclosing of the
holy world above to the consciousness, but the creation as
well of a reality in Israel, which bears a holy character.
This has its beginning already in the wondrous birth of
Isaac. This reality establishes itself in the people, accent
uates itself in the tribe of Judah and in the house of
David; in its usages and institutions; in its holy ceremo
nials, and in the types which point to the full reality
to be realized by the Incarnation. From the nature of the
case, this reality also exerted an influence, moulded and fash
ioned the more finely disposed spirits in Israel, and enriched
the consciousness of those who were to be inspired with
those ideas and representations and images, which were fit
in every way to do service in inspiration. It made the lan
guage, in which Jehovah was to interpret His Divine thoughts,
altogether a richer vehicle for inspiration.

CHAP. II] § 83. THE FACTORS OF INSPIRATION 519

The third factor which claims our attention in inspiration
is that which is inspired : — Id quod inspiratur. This content
of inspiration is not accidental. It does not consist of
magic sentences, nor yet of enigmatical communications
concerning secret powers or incidental events. The whole
content of what is inspired is taken from the counsel of
God, and is dominated by the supreme thought of how
the profaned majesty of God, both in man and in the
cosmos, may again come to its theodicy. We have pur
posely taken pains to state the case in these definite terms,
because the limitation of that content to the salvation of
man's psychical life both is irrational and is contradicted by
the Holy Scripture. The latter needs no explanation, and
so far as the first is concerned, it would be irrational to
intend exclusively the salvation of our psychical life, since
the conditions of our somatical life are equally disabled.
Irrational, to fix the eye upon the salvation of man alone,
since man is an organic part of the cosmos. And it would be
equally irrational to find the end of inspiration in man, since
either the confession of God must be abandoned, or all things
must find their end in Him. At this very point the effort
falls away to seek the content of what was inspired exclu
sively in what is ethical-religious. This ethical-religious
does not exist in isolation. In the case of the individual
person it touches his body and circumstances as well ; in the
case of a people, its earthly existence, its history, and its
future. Separation, therefore, is here impossible. Even as
you cannot find a man except in his body, you cannot expect
to find what is inspired except it is alike psychical, somatical
and cosmical. However, it may and must be granted that
the content of what is inspired does not lend itself to this
cosmical, except in so far as it stands in central connec
tion with the work of the Holy Spirit. Not because the rest
is indifferent, but because inspiration has a purpose of its
own ; viz. to introduce into the consciousness of the Church
of God that world of thought which belongs to palingenesis.
What lies outside of this is not received by the Church as
such, but by the members of the Church, as "men and citi-

520 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

zens," in a natural way. And the question, whether the nat
ure of this content joins itself to what God who inspires
finds on hand in the person whom He inspires is answered
as follows : that the restoration of what was profaned of ne
cessity joins itself to the condition of the profaned, and that
the organs of revelation, whose own condition was that of
depravity, and who themselves lived in this desecrated cosmos,
found, both in themselves and in that cosmos, the canvas
stretched on which the floral designs of grace were to be em
broidered.

§ 84. The Forms of Inspiration

Man received in his creation more than one string to the
harp of his soul, and according to the nature of the objects
that hold his attention his mood changes, he strikes a different
key, and his mental action assumes new phases. The lyrical
world differs in principle from the epical ; the dramatic im
pulse far exceeds both in creative power ; while, on the other
hand, poetical inspiration accentuates itself least in didactic
poetry. Thus the human mind is disposed by nature to a
multiformity of expression, which sustains connection with the
multiformity of material that engages our attention. And
since there is a wide difference in the material that consti
tutes the content of Revelation, it is entirely natural that
the inspiration of the Holy Spirit has made use of that
multiformity of our spiritual expression, and thus assumes
at one time a lyric character, at another time an epical, some
times even a dramatic, but especially also one that is didactic.
To some extent one may even say that in these aesthetic
variegations certain fundamental forms are given for inspi
ration, and if need be the entire content of the Scripture
might be divided after these four fundamental types. Since,
however, outside of the Scripture also these four fundamental
types continually overlap each other and give rise to mixed
forms, it is more advisable to borrow the division of these
types from the content of the Scripture itself. This we do
when we distinguish between lyric. chok malic* prophetic and
apostolic inspiration, among which the inspiration of the

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 521

Christ stands as univocal, and to which is added the later
graphic inspiration in the narrower sense.

Let each of these types be separately considered.

Lyric inspiration comes first, because lyric itself, to some
extent, bears an inspired character, and so offers us the
most beautiful analogy to holy inspiration, and really sup
plies the only trustworthy key for the correct interpretation
of the lyrical parts of the Scripture. Real lyric, worthy of
the name, is not the passionate cry which describes in song
the concrete, personal experience of sorrow or of joy, but
appears only when, in the recital of concrete and personal
experience, the note is heard of that which stirs the deeper
depths of the hidden life of the universal human emotions,
and for this reason is able to evoke a response from other
hearts. In his Aesthetik, ii., p. 568 (3d Ausg. Lpz. 1885),
Carriere states it thus : " That which is entirely individual
in lyric poetry obtains the consecration of art only by being
represented as it answers to the nature of man, and by strik
ing the chord of something universally human, whereby it is
reechoed in the hearts of others." Even this statement is
not sufficiently full ; for when, by his personal emotions, the
lyric poet has descended to the depths where his own life
mingles with the waters of human experience, he has not
reached the deepest bottom of this ocean. That which is
common in the emotional life of humanity is not grounded
in itself, but derives its powers of life from the immanence
of God, whose Divine heart is the source of the vital breath
that stirs and beats this ocean. Von Hartmann (Philosophie
des Schffnen, ii., p. 736) very properly observes that there is
" a mode of feeling which transcends the purely anthropologi
cal" which, from his Pantheistic point of view, he explains
more closely as " an extension of self -feeling (Selbstgef iihl)
unto a form of universal sympathy (Allgefiihl), the outreach
of this sympathy (Weltschmerz) toward the world-ground,
i.e. its expansion into the intuition of the Divine (Gottes-
schmerz)." Reverse this, and say that his concrete feeling
is governed by the universal human feeling, and that, so far
as it affects him, this universal human feeling is governed

522 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

by the vital emotions in God, and the pathway of lyric inspi
ration is cleared. In every lyric poet you find first a con
siderable commotion of feeling, occasioned by his own joy or
sorrow, or by the weal or woe of that which he loves. Sec
ondly, that sense of solidarity, by which in his personal
emotions he discerns the wave-beat of the human heart.
And finally, there works in him a dominant power, which,
in this universal human emotion-life, effects order, reconcilia
tion, or victory. However subjective the lyric may be, it
always loses the personal subject in the general subject, and
in this general subject the Divine subject appears dominant.
Since we may speak to this extent of a certain Divine in
spiration in the case of all higher lyric, it is readily seen how
naturally lyric lent itself as a vehicle for holy inspiration, and
required but the employment in a special way of the Holy
Spirit, to effect the lyric inspiration of the Psalmist.

The lyric poet does not merely sing for the sake of sing
ing, but from the thirst for deliverance. Under the weight
of unspeakable joy or of consuming sorrow he is near being
overcome. And now the spirit arouses itself within him,
not to shake himself free from this feeling of sorrow or joy,
but, luctor et emeryo, to raise the head above those waves of
the ocean of his feeling, and either pour oil upon the seeth
ing waters, that shall quiet their violence, or bring those
waves into harmony with the wave-beat of his own life, and
thus effect reconciliation, or, finally, with power from on high
to break that wave-beat. This is always done in two stages.
First, by his descent from the personal into the solidary-
human. He aptly remarks : I am not alone in these sorrows ;
there are "companions in misery" (consortes doloris); hence
that sorrow must have deeper causes. And secondly, from
this " companionship in misery " he reaches out after the liv
ing God, who does not stand as a personified Fate over against
this necessity, but with Sovereign Authority bears rule over it.
It is evident, that God the Lord has led His lyric singers per
sonally into bitter sorrows, and again has made them leap for
joy with personal gladness. But it also appears, in the second
place, that these experiences of deep sorrow and high-strung

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 523

gladness almost never came to them in concrete-individual,
and, therefore, to a certain extent, accidental circumstances,
but that almost always their lot in life was interwoven with
the lot of their people, and thus from the start bore a solidary
character. David views even his sicknesses as standing in
connection with the combat he wages for God and His people.
However, you observe, in the third place, that in and through
the utterance of personal feeling, once and again a higher and
a more general subject, and, if you please, another ego, sup
plants the ego of the singer, and often ends by God Himself
in the Messiah testifying through the mouth of the singer.
This makes a confusing impression on him who does not
understand lyric, and is the cause of many an error in
exegesis. But this phenomenon, which at first sight seems
somewhat strange, becomes entirely clear when in this in
stance also you allow the antithesis to be duly emphasized
between sinful and sanctified humanity, between humanity
in its state of depravity and humanity in the palingenesis.
The lyric poet who stands outside of the palingenesis can
not descend deeper than the emotional life of fallen human
ity, and if from thence he presses on to God, he can do
nothing more than was done by Von Hartmann, who, be
ing depressed by sorrow, through the world-sorrow (Welt-
schmerz) reached the supposed God-sorrow (Gottesschmerz),
and thus falsified the entire world of the emotions. Such,
however, was not the case with the singers of Israel. From
their personal joy and grief, they did not descend to the gen
eral human feeling, but to the emotion-life of humanity in the
palingenesis, i.e. of God's people. And when in God they
sought the reconciliation between this higher life of the palin
genesis and actual conditions, their God appeared to them in
the form of the Messiah, that other subject, who sang and
spake through them, and caused them simultaneously to expe
rience the reconciliation and the victory over sorrow and sin.
In the imprecatory Psalms, especially, this is most strongly
apparent. Applied to our human relations in general, the
imprecatory Psalm is, of course, a most grievous offence to
our feelings, and entirely beneath the nobility of lyric. If,

524 § 84. THK FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Dn. Ill

on the other hand, you place the lyric singer of the impre
catory Psalms under the absolute antithesis between that
which chooses for and against God ; if you separate him from
his temporal-concrete surroundings, arid transfer him to the
absolute-eternal, in which everything that sides with God lives
and has our love, and everything that chooses eternally against
God bears the mark of death and rouses our hatred, then the
rule, " Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee ? " becomes
the only applicable standard, and whatever departs from this
rule falls short of love for God. When Jesus speaks of the
man who should have a millstone hanged about his neck, that
he may be drowned in the depths of the sea, the same fun
damental tone which sounds in all the imprecatory Psalms is
sounded also by Him. As unholy and repulsive as the im
precatory Psalms are in the lips of those who apply them to
our relative universal human life, they are solemnly true and
holy when you take your stand in the absolute palingenesis,
where God's honor is the keynote of the harmony of the hu
man heart. This is naturally denied by all those who refuse
to believe in an eternal condemnation of those who continue
in their enmity against the Almighty ; but he who in unison
with the Scripture speaks of " a going into everlasting pain,"
from this absolute point of view cannot resent the imprecatory
Psalm, provided it is taken as a lyric.

(2) Chokmatic inspiration certainly belongs to didactic
poetry, but forms, nevertheless, a class by itself, which, out
side of the domain of poetry, can make its appearance in
prose. Under Chokmatic inspiration, the parables, too, are
classed, and other sayings of Christ which are not handed down
to us at least in a fixed form. When the question is asked
in what particular didactic poetry distinguishes itself from
non-didactic, testhetici say that the didacticus first thinks,
and then looks for the image in which to clothe his thoughts,
while the non-didactic lyricist, epicist, or dramatist feels the
initiative arise from phantasy, and only derives the form from
the ideal image. In itself, inspiration is much less strong

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 525

with the didacticus, and there are didactic poets with whom
poetical inspiration is altogether wanting. With this kind
of poetry, inspiration is not in the feeling, neither in the
imagination, or in the heroic impulse, but exclusively in the
sway of the consciousness. Not as a result of his discursive
thought, but by an impulse of his perception, the real didac
ticus is impelled to song. By his immediate perception he
understands what he sees the other does not understand,
and this he communicates to him in song. Subsidiarily to
this, is added that the didacticus, since he does not speak
as one who is learned, but sings as one who is wise, is, at the
same time, in sympathy with symbolism which unites the spir
itual with the material world, and therefore expresses himself
in the form of nature-illustrations and parables. In the Chok-
mah, this universal human phenomenon obtained a character
of its own. Even as the prophet, the "wise man" was an iso
lated phenomenon in Israel. Similarly to didactic poetry, this
Chokmah confines itself mostly to the domain of the life of
nature and to the natural relationships of life. That life of
nature and of man, in its rich unfolding, is the realization
of a thought of God. It is not accidental, but develops
itself after the Divine ordinances, which, even as the exist
ence of life, are the outflow of a Chokmah in God. Nature
does not observe this, but man perceives it because, created
after God's image, he is himself an embodiment of that thought
of God, and is therefore himself a microcosmos. In his per
ception lies a reflected image of this Chokmah, which by
nature is Wisdom, and not science, but which only by analy
sis and synthesis can become science. The purer and clearer
that glass of his perception is, the purer and clearer will
the image of that Chokmah reflect itself in him. For this
reason, Adam was created, not merely in justice and holiness,
but also in original wisdom. By sin, however, this percep
tion became clouded. There was a twofold cause for this.
First, it reacts no longer accurately, and again, because
nature itself and man's life in nature have become entangled
in much conflict and confusion. For this reason, this natural
Chokmah does no longer give what it ought to give ; it works

526 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

most effectively with simple folk, to whom only separate
problems present themselves, but it refuses its service to the
more richly developed mind, which faces all problems at once,
and thus necessitates it by way of analysis to seek refuge in
close thought. Palingenesis meanwhile presents the possibil
ity of resuscitating again this original wisdom in fallen man,
ami, at the same time, of giving him an insight into the order
and harmony which hide behind the conflicts of our sinful
life, and are active to provide the cleansing of them. This
does not happen to everybody, not even though the enlight
ening has entered in, but it takes place with those individuals
whom God has chosen and inspired for this purpose, and
these are the real, specific, ivise men, and what they produce
is called the Chokmah. In this, therefore, we deal with an
activity of the Holy Spirit, which directs itself to this orig
inal sense-of-life, to this practical consciousness of nature
and life, and clarifies this, so that the wise man discerns
again the wisdom which is apparent in God's creation and in
life, is affected by it, and proclaims it in parable or song.
This Chokmah, however, does not appear to him as arising
from his subjective consciousness, but as addressing him
from another subject, such as Wisdom, which must not be
taken as a personification, but as the pure word in God (see
1 Cor. i. 30), that to him coincides with the image of the
Messiah. This does not imply that for this reason the solu
tion of all problems, as for instance the problem of the incon
gruity in the suffering servant of God, stands clear and plain
before his eyes. On the contrary, there are conflicts, which
cannot be explained on chokmatic ground, but the impres
sion of the Chokmah is, nevertheless, so overwhelming that
the interrogation mark after these problems bears in itself
the prophecy that it shall sometime disappear. Hence the
"wise man '' stands over against the " scorner," the " fool," and
the " ungodly," who think after their fashion to have found a
solution in cynicism, but have abandoned God and faith in
his wisdom. To the wise man, on the other hand, tJie fear
of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. God must not be
wiped out for the reason that we are not able to indicate

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 527

harmony between Him and the world ; but from Him every
departure must be made, even though by doing this we
should lose the world. This assertion may not methodisti-
cally be applied to discursive thought. It only applies to
that Wisdom of which it is asked in Job xxxviii. 36, " Who
hath put wisdom in the inward parts? or who hath given
understanding to the mind?" The entire action, by which
this wisdom is quickened, follows along the inward way, and
does not come from without. For which very reason it could
become a vehicle of inspiration. This also applies to its form,
which is almost always symbolical, entirely apart from the
question whether it is more commonly lyrical, epic, or dra
matic. Its form is and remains that of the Proverb (7tTE),
the utterance of a thought in its material analogy. In the
" riddle " (HTH) and " enigma " (Hit^E), which words indi
cate entwining and intertwisting, the symbolical character
may be less clearly apparent; in both forms, however, lies the
same symbolical tendency. The phenomena are significant
of something, they are reminders of a thought, which comes
from God, and can be understood by us ; not by these phe
nomena themselves, but by the affinity of our spirit to Him
who speaks in them. And since this Wisdom does not consist
of thoughts loosely strung together, but forms one organic
whole, and needs the light of grace, by which to solve the
problems of sorrow and of sin, this Wisdom at length concen
trates itself in Christ Jesus, whom finally the apostle places
over against the foolishness (/uw/ota) of the world as the in
carnated Wisdom (Chokmah or <ro^>ia).

(3) So far as its result is concerned, Prophetic inspiration
is distinguished from the lyric and chokmatic chiefly by the
fact that in general it exhibits a conscious dualism of subject,
whereby the subject of the prophet has merely an instru
mental significance, while the higher subject speaks the
word. That other higher subject appears sometimes in
lyrics (Ps. ii. et aZ.) and in the Chokmah (Prov. viii. et aZ.),
but where it does this appearance bears no dualistic charac-

528 § 84. THK FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

ter. and at least never becomes antithetic as in prophecy
(J»-r. xx., Ezek. iii., et al.~). In the lyric and in the Chok-
niah there is " Konsonanz " of subjects, never " Dissonanz."
In prophecy, on the other hand, duality of subject is the
starting-point for the understanding of its working, arid is even
present where it is not expressly announced. Nothing can
be inferred concerning this from the word &OD3. The ety
mology of the word is too uncertain for this. Who indeed
will prove whether we must go back to &023, 533, S3, which
would be identical with $a-, in $?7/u, or to &TD3? Or also
whether the form X13 is a passive or intransitive katil-form,
and whether, if effundere, to pour out, is the primary mean
ing of this root, we must think of a poured-out person, or of
a person who causes his words to flow out like water across
the fields ? One can offer conjectures, but to infer anything
from the etymology as to the meaning of the word is at
present simply impossible. The synonyms also, hX") and nth,
merely indicate that the prophet is some one who is given
to seeing visions. From the description of some of these
visions, as for instance the vision of the calls, from the phe
nomena that accompanied them, and from the form in which
the prophet usually expressed himself, it can be very defi
nitely shown, on the other hand, that, as subject, he felt him
self taken hold of by a higher subject, and was compelled to
speak not his own thoughts, but the thoughts of this higher
subject. The frequent repetition of the "Thus saith " (712
"IEX) proves this. In Jeremiah's spiritual struggle (Jer. xx.
7 sq.) this antithesis reaches its climax. In 2 Sam. vii. 3
Nathan first declares as his own feeling that David will
build the temple, while in verses 4, 5 he receives the pro
phetical charge to announce to David the very opposite. In
Isa. xxxviii. 1-5 we read the twofold " Thus saith," first, that
Hezekiah will succumb to his sickness, and then that he will
again be restored. The fundamental type is given in Deut.
xviii. 18 as follows: "I, Jehovah, will put my words in his
mouth, and he shall speak unto them all that I shall com
mand him." We find this all-prevailing fundamental thought
still more sharply brought out by Ezekiel in Chap. ii. 8: "But

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 529

thou, son of man, hear what I say unto thee ; open thy mouth,
and eat that I give thee." And in Chap. iii. 1, 2 : " Son of
man, eat that thou findest, eat this roll, and go and speak.
So I opened my mouth, and he caused me to eat that roll."
To eat is to take up and assimilate in my blood a material or
food which originated outside of me. This, therefore, is a
most definite indication that the subject from whose con
sciousness the prophecy originated is not the subject of the
prophet, but the subject Jehovah. Whichever way this is
turned, the chief distinction in prophecy is always that the
subject of the prophet merely serves as instrument.

From this, however, it must not be inferred that the char
acter or disposition of this instrumental subject was a matter
of indifference. The same musician who at one time plays
the flute, the other time a cornet, and at still another time a
trumpet, produces each time entirely different tones. This
depends altogether upon the instrument he plays and the
condition of the instrument. In the same way this per
sonal character and present disposition of the prophet will
give tone to his prophecy to such an extent that with
Isaiah the result is entirely different from what it is with
Hosea, and with Jeremiah from what it is with Micah. Only
do not lose from sight that this noticeable difference in
prophecy, which is the result of the great difference between
prophet and prophet, was also determined by the higher
subject. As the player chooses his instrument according to
the composition he wants to be heard, Jehovah chose His
prophetical instrument. God the Lord, moreover, did what
the player cannot do : He prepared His instrument Himself,
and tuned it to the prophecy which by this instrument He
was to give to Israel, and by Israel to the Church of all ages.
If thus without reservation we must recognize the personal
stamp Avhich a prophet puts upon his prophecy, it may never
be inferred that the fons prophetiae is to be sought in him,
and that the primoprimae issues of thought should not come
from the consciousness of God. We may even enter more
fully into this, and confess that it was the preparation, educa
tion, and further development of a prophet and his lot in life

530 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

generally that brought it about that in his consciousness all
those elements were available which God the Lord should need
for His prophecy. It may indeed be assumed that the ethno
logical and political knowledge of the kingdoms with whom
Israel came in contact, and from which so many judgments
proceeded, was present in the synteresis of the prophets. The
capacity to gather thoughts and unite them into an opinion
may likewise have been active in the instrumental subject.
This much, however, remains fact, that so far as the ego of
the prophet was active in this, it did not go to work from its
own spontaneity, but was passively directed by another sub
ject, in whose service it was employed.

Even this does not end our study of the anthropological basis
of prophecy. Ecstasy, which is so strongly apparent on the
heights of prophecy, is no uncommon phenomenon. We
know as yet so very little of the nature and working of
psychical powers. Biology, magnetic sleep, clairvoyance,
hypnotism, trance, insanity, telepathy, as Stead called his
invention, are altogether phenomena which have appeared
from of old in all sorts of forms, and which science has too
grossly neglected. Evidently these workings are less com
mon in quiet, peaceful times, and show themselves with
more intensity when public restlessness destroys the equi
librium. This accounts for the fact that at present they
are prominently coming again to the front. This at least is
evident, that our psyche, over against its consciousness, as
well as with reference to its body, can become so strongly
excited that common relations give place to those that are
entirely uncommon. Whole series of stations lie between
common enthusiasm and wild insanity, by which in its course
this action assumes a more or less concrete, but ever modi
fied, form. And so far as insanity has no directly physical
causes, it carries wholly the impression of being a tension
between the psyche and its consciousness, which is not
merely acute, but becomes chronic, or even permanent. Ec
stasy is commonly represented as being the outcome of the
mastery of an idea, a thought, or a phantom over the psyche,
and by means of the sensibilities over the body, to such an ex-

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 531

tent that for the moment the common working of the senses
and of the other spiritual powers is suspended, and psyche
and soma are used entirely as instruments of this mania,
idea, or visionary image. If we combine these ecstatic phe
nomena with the biological, i.e. with the power which the
psyche of one can obtain over the psyche of another, and
grant that the power which other men can exert upon us can
be exerted upon us much more strongly by God, we must
conclude that in prophecy also God the Lord made use of
factors which He Himself had prepared in our human nature.
With this difference, however, that in this instance He makes
use Himself of what at other times He places at the disposal of
biologians. A complete analogy to prophecy would be given
in this, especially if Stead's ideas about his so-called thought,
which rests upon the system of telepathy, were found to be
true. He asserts to have reached this result telepathically,
— that at a distance of ten or twenty miles, without any
means of communication whatsoever, one man wrote down
literally what the other man thought. This may lack ex
citement and passion, but by no means excludes ecstasy;
it is well known that besides a passionate, there is also an en
tirely restful, ecstasy, which, for the time being, petrifies a
man, or causes him to lie motionless as in deep sleep.

If we inquire what the prophets themselves relate concern
ing their experience in such prophetic periods, a real differ
ence may be observed. At one time the seizure is violent, at
another time one scarcely receives the impression that a seiz
ure has taken place. When that seizure comes they receive
the impression of a ttf27, i.e. as though they are put into a
strait-jacket by the Spirit. This admits of no other explanation,
except that they lost the normal working of their senses and
the common use of their limbs. There is an lad latitvah
which takes hold of them ; which indicates that the pressure
came not gradually, but suddenly, upon them. Sometimes a
" fall " is the result of this ; they fell forward, not because they
wanted to kneel down, but because their muscles were para
lyzed, and, rilled with terror, they fell to the ground. Mean
while they perceived a glow from within which put them as

532 §84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

on fire, as Jeremiah declares that it became a fire in his bones
which he could not resist. Ezekiel testifies (iii. 14), "I went
in bitterness, in the heat of my spirit, and the hand of the
Lord was strong upon me." At the close of the ecstasy the
prophet felt himself worn-out and faint, and pathologically
affected to such a degree that he said he was ill. In that
condition he saw visions, heard speaking and saw whole
dramas played ; and when presently he is again so far re
stored to himself that he can speak, the continuity of his
consciousness is by no means broken. He knows what hap
pened with him, and tells what he saw and heard. By itself
there is nothing strange in all this. That which is distinc
tively prophetic does not consist of these psychical phenomena.
These were common with pseudo-prophets. But these phe
nomena, which were commonly produced by pathological
psychical conditions, or by superior powers of other persons,
by the influence of mighty events, or by demoniacal influ
ences, in prophecy ivere worked by Crod that He might use
them for His revelation.

This dualistic character of prophecy, coupled with the
repression of the human subject, prompts us to explain
prophecy as being epical, even if at times this epical utterance
receives a lyrical tint. In the epos the ego of the singer
recedes to the background, and the powerful development of
events, by which he is overwhelmed, is put wholly to the
front. An epos teaches almost nothing about the poet him
self. To such an extent is his personality repressed in the
epos, ^he second characteristic of the epos is, that the singer
not merely communicates what he has seen and heard, but
also pushes aside the veil, and makes you see what mysterious
powers from the unseen world were active back of all this,
and that the things seen are in reality but the effect worked
by these mysterious factors. To this extent the epos corre
sponds entirely to the content of prophecy, and only in the
third point does the epos differ from prophecy. In the epos
the poet deals merely with tradition, subjects it to his own
mind, lifts himself above it, and exhibits his sovereign power by
pouring over into the word, i.e. in the epos, what has happened,

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 533

but at the same time, and this is the triumph of the epos, ex
plains it and makes it understood. And the epical poet differs
from the prophet in this very thing; the epicus rules as artist,
while passively the prophet undergoes inspiration from a
higher subject. We may grant that the epical poet also in
vokes a higher inspiration, as is shown in the "Jerusalem De
livered ; " and the " breathe into my bosom " (tu spira al petto
mio) is certainly a strong expression, but with Tasso it is fol
lowed immediately by the statement : " and forgive if I mingle
fiction with truth — if I adorn my pages in part with other
thoughts than your own," which were inconceivable with the
passivity of the prophet.

If it is asked, where lies the mighty fact, which appears
epically in the epos or Word of prophecy, we answer, that
prophecy takes this drama from the counsel of God. While
Chokmatic inspiration discovers the ordinances of God that
lie hidden in creation, and lyric interprets to us the world of
our human heart, in prophecy there is epically proclaimed the
ordinance of God with reference to history, the problem of the
world's development. This history, this development, must
follow the course marked out by God in His counsel, and
to some extent it amounts to the same thing, whether this
course is seen in the facts or is read from God's counsel. The
program lies in the counsel of God, in history the perform
ance of the exalted drama. Meanwhile there is this note
worthy difference between the two, that in the days of the
prophets especially, the drama had been worked out only
in a very small part, while in God's counsel the complete
program lay in readiness. And secondly, even so far as it
realized God's counsel, history could never be understood in
its mystical meaning without the knowledge of God's counsel.
It is noteworthy that the compilers of the books of the Canon
classed Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings with the prophets
as the former prophets, and that the later prophets join them
selves to these, as the later. If dioramatically we transfer the
Oracles of what we call the prophets to beyond the last judg
ment in the realm of glory, and add Joshua to Kings inclusive,
these together give us both parts of the drama, viz. (1) what

534 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

was already performed, and (2) what was to follow ; while
the comparison, for instance, of Kings with Chronicles makes
the epical excellence of the former to appear clearly above the
latter. The drama then begins from the moment God's
people are settled in the Holy Land. What lies behind this
is not history, but preparation. The Thorah gives the
Toledoth. With Israel in Canaan the starting-point is given
for the all-governing drama. What lies back of that is a
description of the situation by way of prologue. With Joshua
the drama begins, and ends only when the new humanity
shall enter upon the possession of the new earth, under the
new heaven. In this drama the prophet stands midway.
As a Semite he knew but two tenses, the factum and fiens, a
perfect and an imperfect. The prophetical narrative presents
that part of the programme which is performed. It does
this epically, i.e. with the disclosure of the Divine agencies
employed ; while that which is to come is not seen by the
prophet in reality, but in vision. Always in such a way,
however, that to him a review of the whole is possible. He
therefore is not outside of it, but stands himself in its midst.
In his own heart he has passed through the struggle between
this Divine drama of redemption and the roar of the nations,
whose history must end in self-dissolution. He is conscious
of the fact that that spirit of the world combats the Spirit of
God, not only outside of, but also within, the boundaries of
Israel. Thus by virtue of his own impulse he pronounces
the Holy Spirit's criticism upon the unholy spirit of the
world, r.nd is filled with holy enthusiasm in seeing in vision,
that that Spirit of God and His counsel shall sometime
gloriously triumph. Thus there is an organic connection be
tween what was, and is and is to come ; a connection between
one prophet and another ; a connection also with the same
prophet between the series of visions that fall to his share :
and this states the need of the vision of the call, in which
God revealed to him, that he himself was called to cooperate
in the realizing of the Divine counsel and in the further un
veiling of the drama. It is as foolish therefore to deny the
element of prediction in prophecy, as it is irrational to make

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 535

real prophecy consist of single aphoristical predictions. Un
doubtedly in the main prophecy offers the unveiling of that
ichich is to come provided it is viewed from the point where
the prophet stood and lived, so that very often he himself is
active in the process which reflects itself in his Oracle.

The apocalyptic vision only forms an exception to this,
which exception, however, accentuates the more sharply the
indicated character of common prophecy. The Apocalypse
does not move from the prophet to the horizon, but leaves
between him and the horizon nothing but a vacuum, in order
suddenly to cause a vision to appear on that horizon, which is
to him surprising and strange. A veil is pushed aside, which
mostly consists of this, that " the heavens were opened," and
when the veil is lifted, a scene reveals itself to the eyes of
the seer which moves from the heavens toward him. Hence,
the Apocalypse unveils the end, and is by its very nature
eschatological, even when its meaning is merely symbolic. It
rests upon the assumption that the end is not born from the
means, but that, on the contrary, the end is first determined,
and that this end postulates the means by which to realize
it. Hence, it is far more severely theological than common
prophecy, since it takes no pains to join itself to human his
tory, but abruptly shows itself on the horizon. God's coun
sel is what is really essential. From that counsel God shows
immediately this or the other part, and for this reason the
forms and images of apocalyptic vision are described with so
great difficulty. The purpose in hand is to show the seer a
different reality from that in which he actually lives, a real
ity which surely is analogous to his own life, but as under
the antithesis of the butterfly and the caterpillar. How could
the form of the butterfly be made more or less clear in out
lines borrowed from the caterpillar, to one who knows a cater
pillar but not a butterfly ? This is the problem which every
apocalyptical vision faces. The forms and images, therefore,
are composed of what the prophet knows, but are arranged
in such different combinations and connections as to produce
a drama that is entirely abnormal. The appearance of Christ
in His glory on Patmos is truly the brilliancy of the butter-

530 §84. THE FOKMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

fly, but sketched in forms borrowed from the caterpillar.
From this, however, the apocalyptic vision derives its artistic
composition. This does not imply that the aesthetic element
is wanting in common prophecy ; but in this no tableaux
are exhibited which, in order to be exhibited, must first be
arranged. With the apocalyptic vision, however, this is
indispensable. On the prophetic horizon, which at first is
vacant, it must show its form or drama in such a way that,
however strange it may be to him, the prophet, nevertheless,
is able to receive and communicate it. It is Divine art, there
fore, which makes the composition correspond to its purpose,
and this accounts for the fact that the artistic Unity, in the
symmetry and proportion of parts, in symbolism, and in num
bers, is seen so vividly in the Apocalypse. This is not arti
ficial, but spontaneous art. By counting it over, the fact has
been revealed that the allegro in Mozart's Jupiter Symphony is
divided into two parts of 120 and 193 bars ; that the adagio of
Beethoven's B-major symphony separates itself into two parts
of 40 and 64 bars. Naunmnn has found similar results in the
master-productions by Bach. The proportion of the golden
division always prevails in highest productions of art. No
one, however, will assert that Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven
computed this division of bars. This artistic proportion
sprang spontaneously from their artistic genius. In the
same way the unity of plan (Gliederung) in the Apocalypse
must be understood, just because in vision the action of the
seer is least and the action on the part of God is greatest.

The oxhibition and announcement of things to come, i.e.
the predictive character, belongs not merely to the Apoca
lypse, but to common prophecy as well. " Before it came to
pass I shewed it thee : lest thou shouldest say, Mine idol
hath done them." " I have declared the former things from
of old ; yea, they went forth out of my month, and I
shewed them ; suddenly I did them, and they came to pass ''
(Isa. xlviii. 3-5, passim^). Entirely in the same sense in
which Jesus said to His disciples, " And now I have told you
before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye may
believe " (John xiv. 29 ; comp. xiii. 19 and xvi. 4). However

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 537

strongly it must be emphasized, therefore, that in the person
of the prophet, in his disposition, education, surroundings,
position in life, and in his preparation in the school of the
prophets, a number of data are present which claim our
notice in connection with his prophecies, all this, however, is
no more than the preparation of the soil, and the seed from
which presently the fruit ripens comes always from above.
Even when seemingly he merely exhorts or reproves, this
preaching of repentance or reproof is always the coming into
our reality of what is ideal and higher, as the root from which
a holier future is to bloom.

(4) The Inspiration of Christ. — Since inspiration has been
interpreted too exclusively as Scripture-inspiration, too little
attention has ever been paid to the inspiration of the Christ.
The representation, however, that the Christ knew all things
without inspiration spontaneously (sponte sua), is virtu
ally the denial of the incarnation of the Word. The con
sciousness of God and the Mediatorial consciousness of the
Christ are not one, but two, and the transfer of Divine
thoughts from the consciousness of God into the conscious
ness of the Christ is not merely inspiration, but inspiration
in its highest form. The old theologians indicated this by
saying, that even the Christ possessed no archetypal, but
ectypal theology, and he obtained this via unionis, i.e. in
virtue of the union of the Divine and human nature. In
this there is merely systematized what Christ Himself said :
(John xiv. 10) "The words that I say unto you, I speak
not of myself"; (John vii. 16) "My teaching is not mine,
but his that sent me " ; (John xiv. 24) " The word which
ye hear is not mine, but the Father's who sent me"; (John
v. 30) " As I hear, I judge " ; (John viii. 26) " The things
which I have heard from him these speak I unto the world " ;
and (John xii. 49) " The Father which sent me, he hath given
me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should
speak." This in itself is the natural outcome of His real
adoption of human nature ; but the necessity for this, more-

538 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

over, was the greater, on account of His assuming that nature
in all its weakness, with the single exception of sin (Heb. iv.
15), which at this stage indicates that in Jesus no falsehood
was arrayed against the truth, which, as with the common
prophets, had first to be repressed. But in Christ there
was an increase in ivisdom, a gradual becoming enriched
more and more with the world that lived in the conscious
ness of God. This was effected by the reading of the Script
ures, by the seeing of things visible in creation, by His life
in Israel, as well as by prophetical inspiration. In that sense,
the Holy Spirit to Him also was given. In connection with
His preaching we are told, " For he whom God hath sent
speaketh the words of God : for he giveth not the Spirit by
measure " (John iii. 34), an utterance which, as seen from
the connection, may not be interpreted ethically, which would
have no sense, but refers to inspiration. This " not by meas
ure " is also evident in this, that all kinds of inspiration, the
lyric, chokmatic and epical-prophetical, unite themselves in
Jesus, while everything that is connected with the suppres
sion of vital energy, the will, or mistaken thoughts in the
case of the prophets, in the case of Jesus falls away. Even in
inspiration, He could never be passive without becoming active
at the same time. That the form of vision never takes place
with Jesus, but all inspiration in Him comes in clear concept
(notione clara), has a different cause. Before His incarna
tion, the Christ has seen the heavenly reality which to
prophecy had to be shown in visions : " I speak the things
which I have seen with my Father " (John viii. 38) ; " and
bear witness of that we have seen " (John iii. 11). One may
even say that the sight of this heavenly reality was also
granted Him after His incarnation: "And no man hath as
cended into heaven, but he that descended out of heaven,
even the Son of Man, which is in heaven" (John iii. 13).
This very absence, in the case of the Christ, of all instru
mental means, which were indispensable with the prophets
because of sin, together with the absence of all individual
limitation (" for he had not taken on man, but man's
nature," non hominem sed nctttirdm humanam assumpserat),

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 539

gives that absolute character of the teaching " as one having
authority " to what He spake as the fruit of the inspiration,
in virtue of the Divine union, the impression of which to this
day, in the reading of His Word, takes hold of one so over
whelmingly. Entirely in harmony with this, the Scripture
indicates that inspiration had in Him its centrum. He
is the prophet; who spake in the Old Covenant by the
prophets ; after His ascension bears witness by His apostles ;
and who is still our prophet through the Word. (See Deut.
xviii. 18 ; 1 Pet. i. 11, " The spirit of Christ which was in
them testified beforehand" ; John xvi. 13).

(o) The Inspiration of the Apostles. — He who derives his
conception of inspiration exclusively from the inspiration of
the prophets, is bound to conclude that there is no question
of inspiration in the case of the apostles. In the case of the
apostles, indeed, inspiration bears an entirely different charac
ter from that of the lyric, chokmatic, or prophetical organs of
the Old Covenant. This difference sprang from a threefold
cause. First from the fact that the Holy Spirit had now been
poured out and had taken up His abode in the Church of God.
This difference is most succinctly stated by the antithesis of
inshining (irradiatio) and indwelling (inhabitatio). Secondly,
from the fact that with the apostles inspiration adapted itself
to their official function. And thirdly, from the fact that
they came after the Incarnation, which the seers of the Old
Covenant anticipated. As soon therefore as, on Patmos,
inspiration deals no longer with the reality which appeared
in the Christ, but refers to things to come, inspiration resumes
with them its prophetical character, viz. in its apocalyptical
form. The revelation that came to Peter was equally vision-
like. And so far as Paul had not belonged to the circle of
Jesus' disciples, an entirely separate calling, tradition and
ecstasy were given him, which were needful to him and
adapted to his isolated position. With these exceptions,,
there is nothing that suggests inspiration in the oral and
written preaching of the apostles, as given in the Acts and

540 § *4. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

iii their Epistles. They speak as though they speak of
themselves, they write as though they write of themselves.
In all probability the same phenomenon showed itself in
the hundred or more of their addresses and epistles, of
which no reports have come to us. The "cloke and the
parchments left at Troas," as an incident, stands by m»
means by itself. Almost the entire contents of apostolic
literature bears the same ordinary character. If from out
side sources nothing were known of the inspiration of the
prophets, the simple phrase " Thus saith the Lord " already
shows that there is at least the pretence of inspiration.
With apostolic literature, on the other hand, the sugges
tion of inspiration scarcely presents itself. In 1 Cor. vii.
10. coll. 12, we even read of an antithesis between " I
give charge," and " Yea, not I, but the Lord," but this
refers to the difference between what Paul knew from the
special revelation given to himself (1 Cor. xi. 23, " For I
received of the Lord"), and by apostolic inspiration, as he
expressly adds at the close of this same chapter: "And I
think that I also have the Spirit of God " (1 Cor. vii.
40). That inspiration, however, took place with the apos
tles, appears meanwhile from Matt. x. 19, 20; John xvi.
12-14, 14-26, etc.; from Acts xv. 28, '• For it seemed good
to the Holy Ghost, and to us"; from 1 Cor. ii. 10-12,
" But unto us God revealed them through the Spirit," and
this Holy Spirit alone could reveal to them the deep things of
God. Paul, as well as the other apostles, had not received
the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God, and
the effect of this is that he knew the things that were freely
given by God. The same appears from 2 Cor. iii. 3, where
on the tables of the heart an epistle of Christ is said to be
written, not with ink, but u with the spirit of the living God,"
and instrumentally this was effected by the apostles: "min
istered by us." In Eph. iii. o it is stated that the mystery,
which had been hidden from former generations, "hath no\v
been revealed unto his holy apostles in the Spirit." In Rev. i.
10 John declares even, u I was in the Spirit." Paul does not
hesitate to say that what they had heard of him is not a

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 541

•"\vord of men, but as it is in truth, the word of God"
(1 Thess. ii. 13).

Evidently with them this inspiration was the working of
the Holy Spirit dwelling in them, and this indwelling de
mands full emphasis. In the first place they had received
inworkings of the Holy Spirit before the Day of Pentecost,
and, in breathing on them, Jesus had officially communicated
to them the gift of the Holy Ghost. Before Pentecost more
over they had been regenerated, for Jesus had prayed, not
that Peter might have faith, but that the faith which he had
might not fail. Nevertheless Jesus repeatedly declares that
only when the Holy Spirit shall have been sent them from
the Father, shall real apostolical inspiration begin, as it did
on Pentecost in the sermon of Peter. In the Old Covenant
the Holy Spirit stands truly "in the midst of them" (Isa.
Ixiii. 2) ; but He is not yet the formative principle (princi-
pium formans) for the circle. That circle was still national,
and not yet oecumenical. It only became such on the Pente
costal Day, when the Church appeared, liberated from the
wrappings of Israel's national life, as an independent organ
ism, having the Holy Spirit as its irveu^a. Neither this
mystery nor this difference can be more fully explained
here. For our purpose it is enough, if the difference is
made clear, that after Pentecost there was the indwelling
of the Holy Spirit, while before that day there were merely
radiations and inworkings as from without. From the nature
of the case this was bound to give to inspiration an entirely
modified form. Now it came no more as from without, but
from within, and that same Holy Spirit, who, in us, prays
for us with unutterable groanings, was able in like man
ner to use, guide, and enlighten the consciousness of the
apostles, without any break taking place in them as of a
duality ; yea, without their own perception of it. To this is
added, as we observed, in the second place, that the impulse
for the working- of this inspiration lay in their official func
tion itself. Dualistic action of the Holy Spirit is thereby
not excluded with them, as when, for instance, the Spirit says
to Peter : " Behold, three men seek thee " (Acts x. 19), or

542 § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

when the Holy Spirit did not suffer Paul to go into Bithynia
(Acts xvi. 7), etc. As a rule, however, such a break did not
occur, and their official calling- itself formed the basis on
which inspiration took place. The prophets' appearance was
also official, but in a different sense. Their prophecy itself
was their office, hence this office was very aphoristic and
without a cosmical basis. But the apostles had to discharge
the regular duties of a, fixed office, which found its bed in life
itself. This office was continued until death, and inspiration
was merely given them, to direct their service in this office.
They do not speak or write because the Spirit stimulates
them to speak, or impels them irresistibly to write, but be
cause this was demanded of them by their office. Thus
inspiration flowed into their everyday activity. This in
volves in the third place the different point of view, occupied
by prophets and apostles, with reference to the centrum
of all revelation ; viz. the Christ and His truth. It is the
antithesis of imagination and memory, poetry and remem
brance. With the prophets, who came before the incar
nation, the centrum of revelation could assume no other
form than the dioramatic figures of their representation,
while the apostles, who came after the Christ, testified of
what they had heard and seen and handled of the Word of
life. What was vague with the prophets, with them was
concrete. Not the poetical, but the remembering spirit strikes
with them the keynote. Since the inspiration of the Holy
Spirit ever joins itself to what is present in its organ
and adapts itself to this, it is evident that the inspiration,
which with the prophet worked upon the poetical side of his
consciousness, was with the apostle first of all a " remem
brance " (John xiv. 26). Their spiritual activity, however,
did not limit itself to this. They had to proclaim the mes
sage, and for this they were endowed with the remembrance.
In the second place they were to announce things to come,
and for this they were given the apocalyptic vision. But in
the third place they had to give the apostolic reflection con
cerning the " word of life " ; and for this the Holy Spirit led
them into the deep things of God (1 Cor. ii. 10-12). And

CHAP. II] § 84. THE FORMS OF INSPIRATION 543

here we do not speak of any apostolic dogmatics, or of a
Pauline Theology. He who does this destroys the essential
difference between the apostle as "the first teacher of the
whole Church" and the common ministers of the Word.
The apostolate may not be thought to be continued either in
the papistical or Irvingite sense, nor can it be made common
in an ethical way with the ministry of the Word. According
to John xvii. 20, 1 John i. 3, etc., the apostolate is univoca.
Only by their preaching does the Christ appear to the
consciousness of humanity, in order successively to be
assimilated and reproduced by this human consciousness in
dogma and theology. The apostles have dug the gold from
the mine, and from this gold the Church has forged the
artistic ornaments.

Every effort, therefore, to make the inspiration of the
apostles identical with their enlightening must be resisted.
For this places them virtually on a plane with every regener
ated child of God, that shares the enlightening with them.
This would be proper, if the enlightening were already abso
lute in the earth. This, however, it is not. No less than sanc-
tification enlightenment remains in fact most imperfect till
our death, however potentially it may be complete. The
apostles never claimed that they had outgrown sin. Romans
vii., which describes Paul's spiritual state as an apostle,
sufficiently proves the contrary. Galatians ii. also shows an
entirely different state of things. With so much of un-
holiness still present in them, how could their enlightening
have been complete ? Their partial enlightening would never
have been a sufficient cause for the absolute authority of
their claims. This is only covered by the inspiration, which
ev*r accompanied them, both in the remembrance and in the
revelation of the mystery.

A single remark should be added concerning the char
ismata, and more particularly about the "speaking with
tongues," since the apostles themselves thus spoke. It is
evident at once that this speaking of tongues was essentially
different from the apostolic inspiration, in so far as it made
a break in the consciousness, and repressed the activity of

§85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

the consciousness of the apostles, and caused a mightier
spirit to control their spirit and organ of speech. This
speaking in tongues falls under the category of inspiration
only in so far as it establishes the fact, that an inspiring
mind (auctor mentalis) outside of them gave direction to
what was heard from them. Our space does not allow a
closer study of this speaking with tongues, neither does it
lie in our way to consider here the charismata in general. Be
it simply stated, however, that they belong to the ecstatic
phenomena. According to 1 Cor. xiv., the content of the
glossolaly could be interpreted, but he who spake did not
understand it himself. In so far, therefore, it must be judged
by the analogy of the mesmerizer who causes his medium,
who knows no Latin, to write Latin words, provided, how
ever, this phenomenon be not taken as being brought about by
causing the spirit to sleep, but, on the contrary, as wrought
by high exaltation.

§ 85. Graphical Inspiration

All that has thus far been said of inspiration does not refer
at all to the Holy Scriptures as canonical writings. Suppose,
indeed, that you knew that from the consciousness of God,
by the Holy Spirit, inspiration had taken place in the con
sciousness of psalmists, teachers of wisdom, prophets and
apostles, what warrant would this be, that what the Holy
Scripture offers you, was really taken from the sphere of
this inspiration, and had come to you in a sufficiently trust
worthy form? What has been said thus far of the means and
forms of inspiration refers to the prophetic, psalraodic, chok-
matic and apostolic appearance among the people, in the gate,
at the temple and in the first Christian circles. The field
which this inspiration covered was incomparably larger than
that which bounds the domain of the Scripture. Think how
much must have been spoken by a man like Isaiah during
all the years of his prophetic ministry. Compare with this
his small book in our Hebrew Bible, of a little more than
four quires, and you will be readily convinced that Isaiah
spoke at least ten or twenty times as much again. IIo\v

CHAP. II] § 85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION 545

little is known to us of the preaching of most of the apostles,
even of Peter and Paul, who for many years discharged their
apostolic mission. What are thirteen epistles for a man like
Paul, whose life was so active, and whose connections were
so widely ramified? How much of controversy has been
raised about his epistle to the Laodiceans, as though, indeed,
that were the only one that was not included in the Script
ure? On the other hand, what a large part of Scripture is
left uncovered by inspiration, as thus far viewed. Even
though you count Samuel and Kings among the prophets,
the books of Chronicles, Ezra, Esther and Nehemiah, etc.,
are still left over. And, in the third place, even if there
were not this difference of compass, still what has been thus
far treated of could never result in anything more than that
such an inspiration had taken place in a whole series of am
bassadors of God, while the compilation of what they sang or
spake under this inspiration had received no supervision.

With this in mind, we purposely distinguish graphic in
spiration from the other forms of inspiration; so that by
graphic inspiration we understand that guidance given by
the Spirit of God to the minds of the writers, compilers
and editors of the Holy Scriptures, by which these sacred
writings have assumed such a form as was, in the coun
sel of salvation, predestined by God among the means of
grace for His Church. To prevent any misunderstanding,
we observe at once that in an epistle like that to the Gala-
tians, this graphical inspiration coincides almost entirely with
the apostolic inspiration, for in an epistle that was sent, the
apostolic inspiration itself bore a graphic character. Never
theless, the one conception is here not entirely covered by
the other ; so far, indeed, as there was a choice between several
epistles, or between several copies of the same epistle, another
factor came into play. Moreover, we grant that it would be
more logical, to class that which is not indicated as graphic
inspiration as a subdivision under the activity of God with
respect to the canon (actio Dei circa Canonem), which in
turn belongs under the works of God pertaining to provi
dence (opera Dei, quoad providentiam), and more particu-

546 § 85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

laiiy to special providence (quoad providentiam specialem).
For instance, the fact that the Epistle to the Colossians is,
and the epistle to the Laodiceans is not, included, may have
been caused by the preservation of the one and the loss of
the other. There is, then, no question of a choice by men,
nor of any inspiration to guide that human choice. It was
simply the providence of God which allowed one to be lost
and the other to be kept. To us it would be even preferable
to treat this whole matter under the science of canonics, disci-
plina canonica (which follows later), and much confusion
would have been prevented, if this Divine activity in behalf
of the Canon had always been distinguished in principle from
the real inspiration. Now, indeed, there is a confusion of
ideas, which to many renders a clear insight almost impossi
ble. A content like that of the second Psalm was certainly
inspired to David, when this song loomed before his spirit and
shaped itself in a poetical form. This, however, did not assign
it a place in the Scripture, neither did this sanction it as an
inspired part of the Holy Scripture. Since we have been
accustomed to pay almost no attention to the original in
spiration, and for centuries have applied inspiration indis
criminately to all parts of Scripture, according to their
content and form, ecclesiastical parlance does not permit the
conception of inspiration to be entirely ignored in the com
piling and editing of the books of the Holy Scripture. This
is the less necessary, since in this compiling and editing an
activity from the side of God was exerted upon the spirit of
man, which, to some extent, is of one kind with real inspira
tion. Let it never be lost from sight, however, that this
graphic inspiration was merely one of several factors used
by God in the " divine activity in behalf of the Canon."

This graphic inspiration is least of all of a uniform charac
ter, but it differs according to the nature of the several parts
of the Holy Scripture. It is least evident, as observed before,
in the apostolic epistles, since these were prepared in writing.
Neither can graphic inspiration have been greatly significant
in purely lyrical poetic-productions, which were bound to their
poetic form, and committed to writing by the poet himself.

CHAP. II] § 85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION 547

This simply required such a formulation of the content of his
memory, that nothing was changed in it, or, if anything was
changed, that this change also took place under the leading
of God's Spirit. Then follow those productions of chokma-
tic, prophetic, or lyric-didactic content, which were digests of
longer recitations. As in the case of more than one prophet,
the oral author superintended this digest himself, or some
other person compiled the content of their Divine charge or
teaching and committed it to book-form. With the latter
especially graphic inspiration must have been more active, to
direct the spirit of the writer or compiler. The working of
graphic inspiration must have been still more effective in the
description of the apocalyptic vision, especially when this
assumed such proportions as the vision of John on Patmos.
To obey the order of the " write these things " and in calmer
moments to commit to writing what had been seen in ecstasy
on the broad expanse of the visionary horizon, required a
special sharpening of the memory. And at the same time
it was necessary that in the choice of language and expres
sion the writer should be elevated to the heights of his sub
ject. But even this was not the department in which the
activity of this graphic inspiration reached its highest point.
This took place only in the writing of those books, for which
no inspired content presented itself, but which the writer
had to compose himself ; that is, the historical books. With
these writings also, as shown by their contents, there was no
elimination of those natural data implanted in man for this
kind of authorship, and made permanent by common grace;
on the contrary, graphic inspiration adapts itself wholly
to these natural data. The same methods pursued in our
times, for the writing of any part of history, were pursued
by the historiographers of the Old as well as of the New Tes
tament. Oral traditions are consulted, old chronicles and
documents are collected, inquiry is made of those who may
have knowledge of the particulars involved, and in this way
a representation is formed of what actually took place. Thus
Luke (i. 1) himself tells us, (1) that " many have taken in
hand to draw up a narrative," (2) that he makes distinction

548 §85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION" [Div. Ill

between the things of which he had entire and partial cer
tainty, (3) that he has carefully investigated once more all
things from the beginning, (4) that he is particularly guided
by the tradition of ear- and eye-witnesses, and (5) that then
only he deemed himself competent to write a narrative of these
things in good order (/catfe^?)?). This excludes every idea
of a mechanical instillation of the contents of his gospel, and
may be accepted as the rule followed by each of the histori
ographers. Of course the question of the origin of the narra
tive of the creation cannot be included or classed under this
rule. No man was present at the creation. Hence no one
but God Himself, who has been present ever since He brought
it to pass, can be the author of what we know concerning it.
And this is taken entirely apart from the closer distinction,
whether the first man had received that insight into the origin
of the paradise, of sun, moon and stars, or whether this was
granted to the Church at a later period, after the separa
tion from the Heathen. For all those things, on the other hand,
which happened to or by man, which were matters of human
experience, seen and heard, transmitted by oral tradition, and
committed to writing in whatever way, the sacred historiog
rapher followed the ordinary method, and discovered at every
turn the still imperfect standpoint at which the historiogra
phy of the times stood. In their writings it is seen that they
consulted tradition, inserted sections from existing works,
examined genealogies and other documents, and collected
their material in this entirely natural way. This was the
first taj>k of their mind. Then came the second task, of
making choice between different traditions and diverging
documents. In the third place was added the more impor
tant task of understanding the invisible motive of this his
tory, and of observing in it the doings of God. And finally
their latest task consisted in committing to writing the
representation of the past which in this way had formed
itself in their minds. And this brings to light what we mean
by graphic inspiration. Even where providentially good tra
dition and trustworthy documents were within reach, their
attention had to be directed to them. They needed guidance

CHAP. II] . § 85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION 549

in their choice between several, ofttimes contradictory, repre
sentations. In the study of the mystical background of this
history their mind had to be enabled to perceive the Divine
motives. And finally in the writing of what had matured in
their mind, their mind and their mind's utterance had to be
shaped after the mould of the Divine purpose that was to be
realized by the Scripture in His Church. To some extent
it can be said that none but natural factors were here at work.
It often happens in our times that an author gets hold of a
correct tradition, consults trustworthy documents, writes as he
ought to write, obtains a just insight into the mysticism that
hides in history, thus forms for himself a true representation,
and commits this faithfully to writing. But in this case
these factors were subject to higher leadings, and upon choice,
inventiveness, study of conditions, forming of representations,
insight into the mysticism of history, and upon the final
writing, the Holy Spirit worked effectively as a leading,
directing and determining power; but the subjectivity was
not lost. No one single subject could receive in himself the
full impression of a mighty event. To see an image from all
sides, one must place himself at several points and distances.
Hence we find in the Holy Scripture not infrequently more
than one narrative of the same group of events, as for instance
in the four Gospels ; these are no repetitions, but rise from
the fact that in the consciousness of one subject the interpre
tation, and hence also the reproduction, of the incident was
necessarily different from those of his fellow-laborer. This
is the life of history. It gives no notarial acts, but reproduces
what has been received in the consciousness, and does this
not with that precision of outline which belongs to archi
tecture, but with the impressionistic certainty of life. This
excludes by no means the possibility that the writings thus
prepared were afterward reviewed by second or third editors ;
and here and there enriched by insertions and additions.
From their content this very fact is evident. Graphic inspira
tion must then have been extended to these editors, since
they indeed delivered the writings, in the form in which they
were to be possessed by the Church. This gives rise to the

550 § 85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

difficulty, that after the Church had entered upon the posses
sion of such writings, unauthorized editors still tried to intro
duce modifications, which did not belong to them, and these
of course must be excluded. This indeed is related to the
general position occupied by the Church over against the
Scripture, which tends at no time to allow the certainty of
faith to be supplanted by the certainty of intellect. As soon
as it is thought that the holy ore of the Scripture can be
weighed in the balance with mathematical accuracy, the eye
of faith becomes clouded, and the gold is less clearly seen.

The answer to the question as to our right to accept such
a graphic inspiration is given in §§ 77 and 78. It is the self-
witness (avro/jiapTvpiov*) of the Scripture, which it gives of
itself in the central revelation of the Christ. Christ indeed
gives us no theory of graphic inspiration, but the nature of
the authority, which He and His apostles after Him attributed
to the Scripture of His times, admits of no other solution.
The " all Scripture is theopneustic " is not said of the inspira
tion of the psalmists, wise men, and prophets, but of the
products of the writers. This certainly declares that they
remained writers in the strictest sense, even as compilers
and examiners of their material, as compositors and in
artistic grouping of the contents, but that in all these func
tions the Holy Spirit worked so effectively upon the action
of their human minds, that thereby their product obtained
Divine authority. Of course not in the sense that the con
tent of what they rehearsed obtained thereby a Divine char
acter. When they relate what Shimei said, it does not make
his demoniacal language Divine, but it certifies that Shimei
spake these evil words ; alwa}Ts impressionistically, however,
the same as in the New Testament. When in the four Gos
pels Jesus, on the same occasion, is made to say words that
are different in form of expression, it is impossible that He
should have used these four forms at once. The Holy
Spirit, however, merely intends to make an impression upon
the Church which wholly corresponds to what Jesus said.
The same is the case with what is written in the Old Testa
ment. The composition of this had taken place under one

CHAP. II] § 85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION 551

continuous authority, which justifies citation with an "it is
written," such as was done by Jesus, but which modified it
self in nature and character according to the claims of the
content.

For him who has been brought to the Christ, and who on
his knees worships Him as his Lord and his God, the end
of all contradiction is hereby reached. When the Christ,
whose spirit witnessed beforehand in the prophets, attributes
such authority to the Scripture of the Old Covenant, and by
His apostles indicates the ground for that authority in the
Theopneusty, there is no power that can prevent the recog
nition of that authority by him who believes in Jesus. Not
to recognize it would avenge itself in the representation that
in the very holiest things Christ had wholly mistaken Him
self. This would imply the loss of his Saviour. The objec
tion will not do, that one learns to know the Christ from
the Scripture, so that faith in the Saviour can follow only
upon a preceding faith on the Scripture. The reading of the
Scripture as such, without more, will never be able to bring
one single soul from death unto life. The Scripture by
itself is as dull as a diamond in the dark ; and as the dia
mond glistens only when entered by a ray of light, the
Scripture has power to charm the eye of the soul only when
seen in the light of the Holy Spirit. Christ lives, and by
His Holy Spirit He still works upon the heart and in the
consciousness of God's elect. Sometimes palingenesis takes
place in very infancy. If this were not so, all children
dying young should have to be considered as lost. Dur
ing the period of early bringing up, many children show that
the enmity against God was broken in their youthful hearts,
before they came to read the Scripture. In fact, it is in
correct to say, that we come to the Scripture first, and by
the Scripture to Christ. Even when, after having learned
to read the Scripture, in later years one comes to Christ
as his Saviour, the Scripture may cooperate instrumentally,
but in principle the act of regeneration ever proceeds from
heaven, from God, by His Christ; while, on the other hand,
without this dvwOev (from above) the most careful study

552 §85. GRAPHICAL INSPIRATION [Div. Ill

of the Scripture can never lead to regeneration, nor to a
" being planted together " with Christ. Tradition, supported
and verified by the Scripture, is surely the ground of a
purely historic faith in Christ, but this faith at large fails, as
soon as another interpretation of the Scripture gains the day.
The outcome shows, that where, on the other hand, the revela
tion of power from heaven (avuQev') really has taken place,
and transformed the mode of the soul's life and conscious
ness, even in times of spiritual barrenness, the worship of
Christ has again and again revived; and amid general
negation, the most learned individuals have bowed again to
the authority of the Scripture, in the same way in which
Jesus recognized it. The words once spoken by Jesus in the
temple at Jerusalem (John vii. 17), " If any man willeth to
do his will, he shall know of the teaching, whether it be of
God," is truly the canon here. In Christ we only see and
handle the Divine, when transformed in our inner being and
life, and without this preceding change of heart and our
acceptance with Christ, even though an angel were to come
down from heaven in visible form, no one would ever sub
ject himself to the word of God. The starting-point must
ever lie in our inner ego, and without this starting-point in
sympathy with the revelation of the Scripture, everything
in us tends to disown the authority of the Scripture, and
to resist it with all our powers.

That our human ego, nevertheless, can be brought to accept
and appropriate to itself the special revelation, is a result of
the fact that of all the ways and means of inspiration, the
self-revealing God has never employed any but those which
were present in man by virtue of creation. The whole ques
tion of inspiration virtually amounts to this : whether God
shall be denied or granted the sovereign right of employing,
if so needed and desired, the factors which He Himself
created in man, by which to communicate to man what He
purposed to reveal respecting the maintenance of His own
majesty, the execution of His world-plan, and the salvation
of His elect.

CHAP. II] § 86. TESTIMONIUM SPIRITUS SANCTI 553

§ 86. Testimonium Spiritus Sancti, or The Witness of the

Holy Spirit

The point of view held by our Reformers is (1) that true
faith is a gift of God, the fruit of an operation of the Holy
Spirit ; and (2) that true faith, as the Heidelberg Catechism
teaches, first of all consists of this, " that I hold for truth all
that God has revealed to us in His Word." This agrees en
tirely with what was said at the close of the former section.
Not merely historical, but true faith is unthinkable in the sin
ner, except he embrace "the Christ and all His benefits.''
This, however, by no means exhausts the meaning of what is
understood by the " witness of the Holy Spirit," or the testi-
monium Spiritus Sancti. This goes far deeper. Although it
is entirely logical, that he who believes on Christ as God mani
fest in the flesh, cannot simultaneously reject the positive and
definite witness borne by that Christ concerning the Scriptures
of the Old Covenant, this proof for graphic inspiration is,
and always remains, a proof obtained by inference, and not
by one's own apprehension. The two grounds for faith in
graphic inspiration must be carefully distinguished, for, though
the faith that rests upon the testimony of Christ is more abso
lute in character, the " witness of the Holy Spirit," though it
matures more slowly, is clearer and more in keeping with the
freedom of the child of God. It is with this as it was with
the people of Sychar, who first believed because of the say
ings of the woman, and later believed on the ground of their
own sight. The link between these two is the authority of
the Church (auctoritas ecclesiae). Although the Reformers
rightly contested the auctoritas imperil, as they called it, viz.
the imperial authority, which Rome attributes to the utter
ance of the ecclesiastical institutions, they never denied the
authority of dignity (auctoritas dignitatis) of the Church as
an organism, nor of the Church as an institution. From the
ethical side it has been made to appear, in recent times, that
our faith in the Scripture floats on the faith of the believers,
in distinction from the authority of the Church, and this re
fers to an important element which was originally too much

554 §86. TESTIMONIUM SPIKITUS SAXCTI, OK [Div. Ill

neglected. An unpardonable mistake, however, was com
mitted, from the ethical side, when this was indicated as the
starting-point (So'? JJLOI TTOV CTTCO), and, worse still, when it was
left to this so-called " faith of the believers " to decide what
should be accepted from the Scripture, and what was to be
rejected from its content. To be able to furnish such a testi
mony, the believers must have an authoritative organ, i.e. it
must appear as an instituted body. Thus we would have
come back to Rome's shibboleth, " the Church teaches,"
Ecclesia docet. Since, on the other hand, " the faith of the
believers" was taken, as it voices itself without this organ, all
certainty, of course, was wanting, and in the stead of " the
faith of the believers," there now appeared the interpretation
of " the faith of the believers," as given by A or B. And this
resulted in the free use of this pleasing title for all that was
held true by individual ministers and their private circles.
What thus presented itself as an objective, solid basis, ap
pears to have been nothing but a subjective soil of sand.
Moreover, in this wise " the believers " as such were exalted
above the Christ. For where Christ had testified in the
strictest sense to a graphic inspiration of the Old Testament,
" the believers " contradicted Him, declared that this interpre
tation was erroneous, and consequently faith was to be pinned
to what was claimed by "the believing circle," and not to
what was confessed by Him.

The element of truth in this representation is, that the
Church forms a link in a twofold way between faith in the
inspiration of the Scripture upon the authority of Christ, and
faitli in this inspiration on the ground of the testimony of the
Holy Spirit. In the first place, it cannot be denied that the
Church is one of the factors by which he who formerly stood
out of Christ is brought to Christ. " How shall they believe
in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they
hear without a preacher?" (Rom. x. 14). However much
regeneration may be an act of God in the heart of the sinner,
immediately effected, independently of all instrumental help,
no conscious faith on Christ can develop itself from this
"• seed of God " (oWp/ia Beoii) without preaching, which intro-

CHAP. II] THE WITNESS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 555

duces the image of Christ and His work into the human con
sciousness. Preaching is here taken in the broadest possible
sense, not merely as catechization and as preaching of the
Word, but as including all communication of man to man,
orally or in writing, by which the form of Christ is brought
in relief before the seeking eye of faith. So far, therefore,
the link of the Church claims our notice, and in proportion
as this appearance of the Church is purer or less pure, faith
in Christ will be richer or poorer. Augustine's saying,
" Evangelic non crederern nisi ecclesiae me moveret autori-
tas " (i.e. " I could not have believed the Gospel, except as
moved by the authority of the Church"), contains some
thing more still. In this saying, the Church appears not
merely as the preacher of truth, but as an imposing phenom
enon in life which exerts a moral power, and which, itself
being a work of Christ, bears witness to the "founder of
the Church" (auctor ecclesiae). It is the revelation of the
spiritual power of Christ in His Church, which as a spiritual
reality takes hold of the soul. For this very reason the inter
pretation of this word of Augustine by the Romish dogmati-
cians, as an auctoritas imperil, or imperial authority, to be
attributed to the instituted Church, is wrong, and it was
equally wrong to interpret the Gospel Evangelium as the " In
spired Sacred Scripture," for then Augustine should have
begun by subjecting himself to this official authority of the
Church. Suppose, indeed, that such an arbitrary subjec
tion would have been conceivable, the word moveret would
have been put to an impossible use. An imperial authority
does not move (movet), but commands (iubet) and compels
(cogit). What remains of this, therefore, is no other than
what we, too, confess; viz. that as a herald of the Gospel
(praedicatrix Evangelii) and as an imposing spiritual phe
nomenon, the Church is one of the factors used by the Holy
Spirit in bringing the regenerate to a conscious faith in Christ.
To this is added, in the second place, the very important
significance of "the communion of saints." Even though it
is not impossible in the absolute sense that faith can be main
tained in isolation, isolation, nevertheless, goes against the

550 § 86. TESTIMONIUM SI'IHITUS SANCTI, OK [Div. ill

nature of faith ; and it remains a question whether any one
but Christ Himself, in that absolute sense, has stood alone
in his faith. This is the very profound meaning of Geth-
semane. Sin, and hence unbelief, scatters, individualizes,
and pulverizes ; but grace, and hence faith, restores life in
organic connection, viz. the life of each member in the body.
And what applies to being applies also to the consciousness;
here it is also an " apprehending with all the saints" (Eph.
iii. 18). The power of public opinion shows how mightily
this factor in works upon our own conviction ; and as there
is a public opinion in the things of the world, there is
also a certain fides communis, or, if you please, a public
opinion in the communion of saints. And in so far the ethi
cal school maintains correctly that " the faith of the be
lievers " supports the faith of the individual, and exercises a
certain authority over it. This factor works in a threefold
way : (1) in an historical sense, in so far as the testimony of
the ages comes to us in tradition and writings ; (-) in a
catholic sense, insomuch as the general appearance of the
universal Church always includes a certain confession of
faith ; and (3) in an empirical sense, if we ourselves per
sonally come in contact with confessors of Christ, move in
the circles of the children of God, and thus experience
immediately the influence of the communion of the saints.
In this we are not dealing with the Church as an institution,
but with the Church as an organism. And though it must
be granted that the influence of this public opinion, if
untrue, can inwork disastrously upon our conviction, so that
spiritual criticism only keeps us in the right path, it is never
theless entirely true that this communis fides, this public
opinion among the children of God, this "faith of the be
lievers " as it may be called, imprints in our consciousness
the image of Christ as the Saviour of the world, and sup
ports in us faith in the Holy Scripture.

This, of course, cannot be the last point of support, and
therefore the Reformers wisely appealed on principle to the
" witness of the Holy Spirit." By this they understood a tes
timony that went out directly from the Holy Spirit, as author

CIIAI. IJj THE WITNESS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 557

of the Scripture, to our personal ego. They did not call it
an internal (internum) but an external proof (argumentum
externum), for the reason that it did not rise from our ego,
but from without us, from God, it moved itself toward our
ego. It has often, however, been wrongly represented that
by this witness was meant in a magic sense a certain " ec
stasy " or " enthusiasm," and that it consisted of a supernatu
ral communication from the side of God, in which it was said
to us, " This Scripture is my Word." Thus it has been rep
resented by some who were less well informed, but never by
our theologians. On the contrary, they have always protested
against this representation ; the more since experience taught
that all such interpretation led at once to a false mysti
cism, and thereby undermined the authority of the Scripture.
For then, indeed, the revelation of God, which one imagines
and declares himself to have received, is placed above the
Scripture, and in the end the Scripture is rejected. No, the
representation of the Reformers was this, that this witness is
to be taken as " light so irradiating the mind as to affect it
gently, and display to it the inner relations of the truth that
had hitherto been concealed." Hence it was a subdivision
of the enlightening, but in this instance directed immedi
ately upon the Holy Scripture, and not upon its inspiration,
but its Divine quality. First one stood before the Holy
Scripture as before a foreign object which did not suit his
world of conceptions, and over against which, in his world-
consciousness, one assumed essentially not merely a doubt
ful, but a hostile attitude. If meanwhile the change of our
inner being has taken place by palingenesis, from which
there has gradually sprung in our sense and in our con
sciousness a modified view of ourselves, of the things of this
world, and of the unseen world, which withdraws itself from
our natural eye, this enlightening of the Holy Spirit creates
discord between our deepest life-consciousness and the con
sciousness of the world, which formerly ruled and still presses
itself upon us. And in this struggle the Holy Spirit opens
our eyes, that in the Holy Scripture we may see a represen
tation of our ego, of the world and of the eternal things,

558 § 86. TESTIMONIUM SPIRITUS SANCTI, OR [Div. Ill

which agrees with what we seek to defend in the combat
against the naturalistic consciousness of the world. Hence
a process is here involved. The more deeply we are led by
the Holy Spirit into the knowledge of ourselves as sinners, of
the unreality of the world, and of the reality of the Divine,
the more intense becomes this struggle, and the more evident
grows the affinity between the work of the Holy Spirit in us
and in that Holy Scripture. Thus the veil is gradually
being pushed aside, the eye turns toward the Divine light
that radiates from the Scripture, and now our inner ego sees
its imposing superiority. We see it as one born blind, who
being healed, sees the beauty of colors, or as one deaf, whose
hearing being restored, catches the melodies from the world of
sounds, and with his whole soul delights himself in them.

In this connection the so-called internal proof for the
Divine character of the Holy Scripture must also be under
stood. In a later period it has been made to appear that the
"heavenly majesty of the doctrines, the marvellous complete
ness of the prophecies, the wonderful miracles, the consent
of all its parts, the divineness of the discourse," and so much
more, formed a system of outward proofs able to convince
the reason without enlightenment ; but our first theologians,
at least, did not attach such a meaning to them. They
taught that these inner relations of the Scripture were under
stood, and thus were able to serve their real purpose only
when, by enlightening, the spiritual understanding had been
clarified and purified. He only, who in palingenesis had
experienced a miracle in his own person, ceased to react
against miracles, but rather invoked them himself. He who
had observed the fulfilment of several prophecies in his own
spiritual life, understood the relation between prophecy and
its fulfilment. He who heard the music of the Divine
melody of redemption in his own soul was rapt in wonder
(rapiebatur in admirationem), as they expressed it, in listen
ing to the Oratorio of Salvation proceeding from the heavenly
majesty of doctrine in the Holy Scripture. As the Confessio
Beljica states in Art. !>, that we even believe the mystery of
the Trinity " from their operations, and chiefly by those we

CHAP. II] THE WITNESS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 559

feel in ourselves," our faith in the Divine character of the
Scripture rests upon the experience of spiritual life that ad
dresses us from that Scripture. That similarity of personal
experience fosters affinity, quickens sympathy and opens eye
and ear. In by far the greater number of cases this testimo-
nium Spiritus Sancti works gradually and unobserved. The
" enlightening " increases gradually in intensity, and in pro
portion as it grows stronger we see more, and see with more
certainty, and stand the more firmly. Sometimes, however,
this witness of the Holy Spirit becomes more incisive in
character. This is especially noticeable in days of general
apostasy, and then the child of God is fully conscious of
this incisive inworking. Living in a society of high intel
lectual development, and taking notice of what is contributed
by reason without enlightening to enervate the Divine char
acter of the Holy Scripture, inwardly most painful discord is
born. Doubt is contagious. When with firm tread you
walk along your well-chosen way, and without hesitancy
at the cross-road turn to the right, you are involuntarily
brought to a standstill, and shocked for a moment in your
feeling of assurance, when three or four persons call out after
you that you should turn to the left. As in sanctification
you are made to err in this way from time to time with
respect to the Holy Scripture, you may be led to doubt,
and even for a while pursue wrong paths. But this will not
be permanent. The work of grace is not left to yourself, but
with a firm hand is guided by the Holy Spirit, who in no
mechanical way, but by a richer spiritual experience, at
length restores you to seeing again what is truly Divine.
And when the Holy Spirit enters accusation against us in
our own soul that we kick against the pricks, and depend
more on our own and Satan's word than on His Word, and
moves and implores us with groanings unspeakable that for
the sake of the glory of God and our salvation we attach
again a greater significance to His Word than to any other,
then there comes that incisive, and therefore decisive, mo
ment when the child of God lays the hand on his mouth,
and with shame and confusion turns his back upon doubt, in

560 § 86. TESTIMONIUM Sl'IKIT US SANCTI, OK [Div. Ill

order that in contrition and sorrow he may hearken again
to the Holy Spirit as the speaker in His Word. As said
before, however, this incisive character is not borne by the
witness of the Holy Spirit in every person, nor at all times.
As the conversion of many people has taken place almost
without observation, which often happens in the quieter walks
of Christian life, and the conversion of a few only, who at
first wandered far off, is incisive like that of an Augustine,
such also is the case here. For the most part this witness
works gradually and unobserved, and only in exceptional
cases is it as lightning that suddenly flames through the
skies.

From the nature of this witness of the Holy Spirit, it
follows at the same time, that it begins with binding us
simply to the Holy Scripture in its centrum. It is the central
truth concerning our eyo, concerning the world about us,
and of the true reality which is with God, that takes hold of
us, convinces and follows after us, until we give ourselves
captive to it. This central truth will take hold of one by
this, and of another by that utterance, in proportion as our
inner life is tuned to it ; but the first impressions will alu<ays
cause us to descend into the depths of misery and ascend to
the heights of redemption. How far the authority, which
from this spiritual centrum obtains its hold on us, extends
itself later to those things in the Scripture that lie on the
periphery, is a question devoid at first of all spiritual sig
nificance. Conditions are conceivable in which, after one is
captured centrally by the Scripture, the clashing is continued
for many years between our thinking and acting on the one
hand, and that which the Scripture lays upon us in the name
of the Lord as faith and practice (credenda and agenda).
Gradually, however, an ever more vitally organic relation
begins to reveal itself between the centrum of the Scripture
and its periphery, between its fundamental and its derivative
thoughts, and between its utterances and the facts it com
municates. That authority which at first addressed us from
that centrum only, now begins to appear to us from what has
proceeded from that centrum. We feel ourselves more and

CHAP. II] THE WITNESS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 561

more captivated by a power, whose centrum cannot be
accepted without demanding and then compelling all un-
observedly an ever more general consent for its entire
appearance, and all its utterances. Thus it ends as Scripture
by imposing sacred obligations upon us, as Holy Book by
exercising over us moral compulsion and spiritual power.
And in the end the connection between its form and content
appears so inseparable, that even the exceptional parts of its
form appeal to us, and, in form and content both, the Script
ure comes to stand before us as an authority from God.

But this process of conviction worked in us by the Spirit,
is always a spiritual work, which has nothing in common
with the learning of the schools ; it is moreover incapable
of maintaining itself theoretically and of continuing itself
according to a definable system. By itself it tends no further
than to bear spiritual testimony to our personal, regenerated
ego concerning the Divine character of everything the Holy
Scripture teaches and reveals ; and without more, the truth,
for instance, of graphic inspiration can never be derived from
it. If, however, an absolute certainty concerning this Divine
character of the content of the Scripture has been sealed in
the personal consciousness of man by this witness of the
Holy Spirit, the effect of this goes back to the two former
stages of the public opinion (communis fides), and the cleav
ing to Christ. With this conviction, which is now his own for
good and always, he, who has been set free from the veil that
darkly hung between, does not stand alone, but feels himself
assimilated by the illuminated consciousness which in the
communion of the saints is distinguished from the natural
consciousness of the world. This assimilation becomes the
stronger, according to the greater vitality of the child of
God in him, by which he is evermore being changed into the
image of the Son of God. Thus there originates a communion
of consciousness not merely with those round about us, but
also with the generation of saints of former ages, affinity of
life with the saints that have gone before, unity of soul-
conceptions with the martyrs, with the fathers of the Church,
with the apostles, and so at length with Christ Himself and

502 § 86. TESTIMONIUM SPIRITUS SAXCTI, OR [Dir. Ill

with the faithful of the Old Covenant. In the life-conscious
ness of that sacred circle the positive conviction prevails,
that we have a graphically inspired Scripture, on which we
lean and by which we live ; and that this is not contingent,
nor accidental, but necessary. This faith in the Scripture is
found as an indispensable and an entirely natural component
part in the life-consciousness of this circle. And when in
experience the riches of the Scripture contents become ever
more precious to the heart, resistance is no longer possible.
The power of assimilation is too strong, the general unsanc-
tified human consciousness loses all its power, and at length
the believer must accept the equally general, but now sanc
tified, human consciousness, including this component part of
its content. If then, finally, the believer goes back to the
first stage in his Christian life, i.e. to his personal faith in his
Saviour, and realizes that Christ himself has presented the
Holy Scripture — which the common opinion in the com
munion of saints has adopted in its world of thought as
theopneustic, and of the Divine truth of which, thanks to
the " Witness of the Holy Spirit," he is himself firmly con
vinced — as the product of the Holy Spirit, the assurance
of his faith on this point is immovably established, and to
htm the Scripture itself is the principium, i.e., the starting-
point, from which proceeds all knowledge of God, i.e. all
theology.

In this sense the Holy Scripture was the principium of
Theology to our fathers, and in the same sense it is this to
us. Hence this principium, as such, can be no conclusion
from other premises, but is itself the premise, from which
all other conclusions are drawn. Of course this does not
dismiss the fact, that objections, derived from the common
norma of our thought, can still be entered against the Holy
Scripture and its alleged character ; in this, indeed, every one
should be left free, and these objections it is the task of The
ology squarely to face. This, however, can be considered only
in the science of the canon (disciplina canonicae) and the
science of the text (ars textualis). We merely observe that
on the one hand this critical task should not be impeded in

CHAP. II] THE WITNESS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 563

the least, provided it is clearly understood on the other hand
that the failure of your first efforts to solve such critical ob
jections can rob you of the certainty of your principium, as
little as success can strengthen it. Assurance of faith and
demonstration are two entirely heterogeneous things. And
he who, in whatever department, still seeks to demonstrate
his principium, simply shows that he does not know what is
to be understood by a principium.

CHAPTER III

THE METHOD OF THEOLOGY

§ 87. What is demanded by the Nature of its Principium

The legend is still current that the Reformers intended to
represent the Holy Scripture as a sort of a code, in which
certain articles were set down in ready form, some as things
to be believed, and some as rules for practice (credenda and
agenda). According to this representation the Holy Script
ure consists of four parts : (1) a notarially prepared official
report of certain facts ; (2) an exposition of certain doctrines
drawn up by way of articles ; (3) an instituted law in the
form of rules; and (4) an official program of things to come.
Over against this legend stands the fact that the content and
the character of the Holy Scripture correspond in no particu
lar to this representation, and that psychologically it will not
do to attribute such a view of the Holy Scripture to any theo
logian worthy the name. This legend, however, is not the
product of pure invention. The way in which Scholastics
used to demonstrate from the Holy Scripture consisted almost
exclusively of citations of this or that Bible text. Neither
did the Reformers abandon this method entirely ; they made
free use of it; but no one of them employed this method ex
clusively. They compared Scripture with Scripture. They
looked for an analogy of faith. They were thus led to enter
more deeply into the organic life of the Scripture. And he
who gives Voetius' treatise quousque sese extendat S. Scripturae
auctoritas ? (Select. Disp., Tom. I, p. 29) even a hasty perusal
only, perceives at once that the view-point held by the theo
logians of that day was veiy just. The narrator of this legend
is so far correct, however, that in the eighteenth and begin
ning of the nineteenth century, under the influences of pietism
and methodism, this unscientific method became ever more

564

CHAP. Ill] § 87. WHAT ITS PRINCIPIUM DEMANDS 565

popular, and that this grotesque representation of the Holy
Scripture found acceptance with the less thoughtful among
simple believers. Scripture-proof seemed to them to be pre
sented only by the quotation of some Bible verse that literally
and fully expressed the given assertion. This is a severe
demand, which, on the other hand, excuses one from all further
investigation ; and, provided you but quote Scripture, does
not inquire whether your citation is borrowed from the Old
Testament or the New, whether it was spoken by Job or by
his friends, or whether it occurs absolutely, or in application
to a given case. This makes the Bible your code, a concord
ance your register, and with the help of that register you
quote from that code as occasion requires.

It needs scarcely be said that this method is utterly
objectionable. If this were the true method, the Holy
Scripture would have to be an entirely differently compiled
book from what it is. As to its facts, it should present an
accurate, precise, singular story made up in notarial form.
It would have to give the program of things to come with
the indication of persons, place, time and succession of the
several acts in the drama still to be performed. With respect
to truth, it ought to present this in the form of a precisely
formulated and systematically constructed dogmatic. And as
for the rules of practice, you ought to find in the Holy Script
ure a regular codification of a series of general and concretely
applied directions, indicating what you should do and leave
undone. This is no exaggeration. The question of the Holy
Scripture involves nothing short of the question of a Divine
authority, which imposes faith in facts and teachings, and
subjection to rules and commandments. Hence your demon
stration must be unimpeachable. And the method that is
applicable only to an authenticated official report, a carefully
formulated confession and an accurately recorded law, must
be objected to as long as it is not shown that the Scripture,
from which the quotation is made, exhibits the character
asserted. If such, however, is not the case, and if on the
contrary it is certain that the whole disposition, nature and
character of the Holy Scripture resemble in no particular

560 § 87. WHAT IS DEMANDED BY [Div. Ill

such an official report and codification, it needs no further
comment that this method is altogether useless and has no
claim therefore on our consideration.

Nevertheless it would be a mistake to explain the popu
larity which this objectionable method captured for itself, on
the simple ground of a lack of understanding. Call to mind
the use made of the Old Testament Scripture by Christ and
His apostles, and it not infrequently has the appearance that
they freely followed this objectionable method. If it can
readily be shown that Christ and His apostles also argue from
the Scripture in an entirely different way (see Matt. xix. 8
and Heb. vii.), the fact nevertheless cannot be denied that
literal citations from the Old Testament, as " the Scripture " or
" it is written," repeatedly occur in the Gospels and in the
apostolic discourses and epistles. Hence a distinction here is
necessary. If we note in what form the Holy Scripture pre
sents itself to us, it certainly has nothing in common with an
official report or a code ; but it contains, nevertheless, extended
series of definite and positive utterances respecting faith and
practice, which utterances leave nothing to be desired either
in clearness or in accuracy of formulation. Such utterances
stand not by themselves, but occur mostly in organic connec
tion with events and conversations. The flower in bloom that
exhales its fragrance is attached to a stem, and as a rule that
stem is still joined to the plant. But even so, that utterance
is there, and by its positiveness demands a hearing. Hence
with reference to such utterances the task of the human mind
has been reduced to a minimum. In controversy and exhor
tation these utterances render most ready service. And this
explains the fact that the appeal to this category of utterances
has occurred most often, still occurs, and ever will continue
to occur. Even in the hour of dying it is this sort of utter
ances that refreshes and comforts most quickly and sooth
ingly, and with the lowly especially will ever carry the most
telling effect. But though we grant this, and though this
easily explains the fact that the methodistic idea so quickly
gained the day, it should not be admitted for a moment that
this use of the Scripture is the general and exclusive method.

CHAP. Ill] THE NATURE OF ITS PKINCIPIUM 567

The task imposed on us is much more difficult and intricate ;
and so far from consisting of a mechanical quotation with the
help of the concordance, the production of what the Scripture
contains demands gigantic labor. Beyond doubt the ectype
of the archetypal self-knowledge of God is contained in the
Scripture according to human capacity with respect to both
fallen and regenerate man (pro mensura humana, respectu
hominis lapsi, and pro captu hominis renati) ; but for the most
part in the sense in which it can be said by the mine-owner,
that gold is at hand, when with folded arms he looks across
the fields, beneath which his gold-mines hide. The special
revelation does not encourage idleness, neither does it intend
to offer you the knowledge of God as bread baked and cut,
but it is so constructed and it is presented in such a form,
that the utmost effort is required to reach the desired re
sults. With reference also to this, you eat no bread except
in the sweat of your brow. We do not imply that this whole
task must be performed by every believer personally. The
very best of us would faint beneath its load. But we recall
what has been said before, viz., that the subject of science is
not the individual, but the consciousness of humanity ; and
that therefore in the same way the subject of the science of
theology is not the individual believer, but the consciousness
of our regenerated race. Hence it is a task which is in
process century upon century, and from its very nature is
still far from being completed. And in the absolute sense
it can as little be completed as any other scientific task. In
the Holy Scripture God the Lord offers us ectypal theology
in an organically connected section of human life, permeated
by many Divine agencies, out of which a number of blindingly
brilliant utterances strike out as sparks from fire. But the
treasures thus presented are without further effort not yet
reflected in and reproduced by the consciousness of regener
ated man. To realize this purpose our thinking consciousness
must descend into this gold mine, and dig out from its treas
ure, and then assimilate that treasure thus obtained; and not
leave it as something apart from the other content of our con
sciousness, but systematize it with all the rest into one whole.

568 §87. WHAT IS DEMANDED BY [Div. Ill

Christian thinking, i.e. scientific theology, has been at work
on this task for eighteen centuries; among all nations; under
all sorts of constellations. This had to be so, simply because
no single nation represents the absolute consciousness of hu
manity, but every nation, and every period of time, according
to their nature and opportunity, has the power and the ca
pacity to do this in a peculiar way ; and because the natural
content of the consciousness, with which this knowledge of
God must be placed in connection, continually changes.

But amid all these changes the threefold task is ever
prosecuted: (1) to determine, (2) to assimilate and (3) to
reproduce the contents of the Holy Scripture. This task of
determination covers, indeed, a broad field, and is, moreover,
exceedingly intricate. The pertinent utterances of Scripture
are, of course, invaluable aids ; but more than aids they are
not. The content of the Scripture lies before you in the
form of an historic process, which covers centuries, and, there
fore, ever presents itself in different forms. The Scripture
reveals ectypal theology mostly in facts, which must be
understood; in symbols and types, which must be interpreted.
All sorts of persons make their appearance in strange com
mingling, one of whom is, and another is not, a partaker of
Divine grace. The rule for practice presents itself in nu
merous concrete applications, from which the general rule
can only be derived by dint of logical thinking. Thus what
stands written is not merely to be understood as it was meant
by the writer, but its significance must be estimated in
separation from its accidental connection. The several rev
elations must be taken in their true unity after the analogy
of faith. And, finally, from behind the meaning of the
writers there must be brought out the things, which often
they themselves did not perceive, but which, nevertheless,
they were called upon to announce to the world, as the mys
tery of the thoughts of (rod inworked in their thoughts.
Hence, the free citation of pertinent utterances is lawful ;
but the person should be considered who spoke them, the
antithesis which they opposed, the cause that invited them,
as well as the persons to whom they were directed. If this

CHAP. Ill] THE NATURE OF ITS PRINCIPIUM 569

had been observed, the statement, for instance, "Man shall
not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth
out of the mouth of God," would never have been misused,
to represent the spiritual needs as more important than the
material needs. The thoughtless citation of this has been
very misleading; and this is the more serious, since such
classic utterances are indeed authoritative, and when wrongly
interpreted confuse and mislead.

In the second place, follows the task of assimilating the
ectypal theology offered us in the Scripture. We do not
speak now of the action of the spiritual factors required
for this, but limit ourselves exclusively to the task of taking
up into our human consciousness the content found. This
content to be assimilated comes to us in language both sym
bolical and mystical, which reveals and again conceals. Hence,
the purpose must be to analyze this content, to transpose the
parts discovered into conceptions, and to reconstruct these
conceptions thus found into a synthesis adapted to our think
ing. This is the more exceedingly difficult because an analy
sis made too hastily so readily destroys the mystical element,
and thus leads to rationalism, while, on the other hand, the
synthesis must be able to enter into our thinking. To this
the fact is added that in this work no one is able to separate
himself from his personal limitation and from his limited per
sonality. This assimilation is, therefore, possible for individu
als only in so far as the limits of their spiritual and mental
action extends, and still it should ever be our effort to assimi
late in such a way as to promote this assimilation-process in
others. Otherwise there might, indeed, be a spiritual up
building of self, but no scientific study. If there is to be
scientific study, one must be able, by giving an account, to
objectify the assimilation-process one has himself experi
enced. This task demands intense application of thought,
because it is not enough that we take up in ourselves the
loose elements of the revelation, but we must take those ele
ments as constitutive parts of one organic whole, and thus in
our thoughts, also, order them in one system. This would
require great energy of thought in a consciousness otherwise

570 § 87. WHAT ITS PKIXCIPIUM DEMANDS [Div. Ill

empty ; but it does this the more, since our consciousness is
already occupied. Now it becomes our duty to expel from
our consciousness what is criticised by revelation as untrue,
and to weave together what remains with the content of reve
lation, so that the unity of our world- and life- view shall not
be lost.

And then follows the third part of the task, by which we
are called to reproduce what is thus acquired. The duty of
witness-bearing and confession calls us to this third action.
but also, without abandoning this practical end, the claim of
science itself. Apart, also, from the maintenance of God's
honor in the face of the denier of His truth, God counts it His
glory that in the human consciousness which He had dis
posed to His truth, and which we had applied to the service of
error and falsehood, His truth is again reflected. The Script
ure offers us the yrain of wheat, but AVC may not rest until
the golden ears are seen in the fields, by which to prove
the power potentially hidden in the seed. Hence, it is not
enough that the knowledge of God, which, as a flower in the
bud, is hidden and covered in the Scripture, is set forth by us
in its excellency ; but that bud must be unfolded, the flower
must make exhibition of its beauty, and scent the air with its
fragrance. This can be done spiritually by piety of mind,
practically by deeds of faith, aesthetically in hymns, pareneti-
cally in exhortation, but must also be done by scientific ex
position and description.

No theologian, therefore, can go to work in an empirical
or in a speculative manner. He who empirically takes reli
gious phenomena as his starting-point is no theologian, but
an ethnological or philosophical investigator of religions.
Neither is a speculative thinker a theologian. We do not
question the relative right of the speculative method. Con
ceptions also generate, and rich harvests may be gathered
from the fields of logical thought, but he who goes to work in
this manner is no theologian. Theology is a positive science,
which finds the object of its investigation, i.e. ectypal knowl
edge of God, in the Holy Scripture, and therefore must draw
the insight into its object from the Scripture. The reason

CHAP. Ill] § 88. THE PRIXCIPIUM IN ACTION 571

why abstract intellectualism is insufficient for this will appear
later ; but in so far as now we limit ourselves exclusively to
this intellectual task, it follows from the nature of the object
and from the principium of theology that it must determine,
assimilate and reproduce, but with this its task is ended.
For the sake of completeness, we may add that this includes
the investigation of the instrument of revelation, i.e. the
Holy Scripture ; which task is the more extensive, as that
Scripture has not come to us in autographs, nor in our
own language, but in foreign languages and in apographa,
which are in many respects corrupt, so that it requires an
entirely independent effort of the mind, by the study of criti
cism and language, so to approach the Scripture as to render
an investigation of its content possible. Meanwhile this de
tracts nothing from the character of principium which is pos
sessed by the Holy Scripture as the effective cause of all true
theology. In view of the full demonstration of the former
chapter, this requires no further emphasis.

§ 88. The Principium of Theology in Action

Without further explanation the impression would be
conveyed, that the method of theological investigation, as
described in the preceding section, makes theology to termi
nate in dogmatics. The more so, since earlier dogmaticians
frequently named their dogmatics " Theologia Christiana."
Even Calvin's Institutes is based on such a supposition. It is
readily seen, however, that in this way theology as a science
would be curtailed. To mention one particular only, we
ask, what would become of Church history? In this second
section, therefore, we observe that he who investigates a
given object, obtains full knowledge of it only by the study
of its states both of rest and action. This applies also to the
ectypal knowledge of God, which, in behalf of the Church,
is deposited in the Holy Scripture. The Word of God also
has its action. It is "quick and powerful and sharper than
any two-edged sword," "a hammer that breaketh the rock
in pieces." It works also as a living seed that is sown, and
which, according to the nature of the soil, germinates and

572 §88. THE PKlNCiriUM IN ACTION [Div. Ill

brings forth fruit. Hence the task of the theologian is by no
means ended when he has formulated, assimilated and repro
duced the content of the Word in its state of rest ; it is his
duty, also, to trace the workiny of this principium, when the
fountain \& flowing. After it was finished, the Holy Scripture
was not hidden in some sacred grotto, to wait for the theolo
gian to read and to make scientific exhibition of its content ;
no, it was carried into the world, by reading and recitation,
by teaching and by preaching, in apologetic and in polemic
writings. And once brought into the world, it has exerted
an influence upon the consciousness-form of the circle which
it entered. Both its authority, and the consequent activity
which it created, are no mean factors in the rise of an eccle
siastical confession and in the institution of an ecclesiastical
communion. The Holy Scripture and the Church, therefore,
are no foreign phenomena to each other, but the former should
be looked upon as the mother of the latter. Not that the
Word by itself was able to found a Church or a church life.
The Holy Scripture does not possess such an inherent mys
tical power, and it is self-evident that the transcendental ac
tion of the regeneration of the elect had to go hand in hand
with the noetic action of the Word, in order to give rise to
the Church and to maintain it. This second element, also,
will be explained later. But however much it may be bound
to this spiritual antecedent, in itself the church-forming and
church-maintaining action of the Word cannot be denied, and,
cum <//-<i)to satis, the domain of the Church can be described
as the domain within which the Holy Scripture prevails and
operates.

From this it follows that he who tries to understand the
Holy Scripture, and to reproduce its content in a scientific
way, may not pass its action by, nor the product of this
action. Theological science, therefore, must also institute
an investigation into the Church, into its character, jurisdic
tion, history, etc. He who neglects this has not investigated
his subject fully. It cannot be said, therefore, that church
history, church law, etc., are added to the real theological
studies as so many loose supplements. On the contrary, in

CHAP. Ill] § 88. THE PRINCIPIUM IN ACTION 573

the theological whole they form organic, and therefore indis
pensable, members. If it is not in itself objectionable to
compare the Holy Scripture to a gold mine, this compari
son nevertheless fails as soon as an attempt is made to view
the method of theology as a whole. Then, indeed, there is
not a question of a quiescent, passive gold mine which awaits
the coming of a miner, but rather of a power propelled by the
Holy Spirit, and propelling the spirits of men, which has drawn
its furrows deep in the past, and which, from the living
phenomenon of the Church, still appeals to us as a principium
full of action. We do not step thus a haudbreadth aside
from the conception of theology as we found it. Theology
remains to us theology in the strictest sense of the word,
i.e. that science whose object is ectypal theology, given in
the Holy Scripture, which is the principium of theology ;
but we refuse to eliminate the action of this Word from our
reckoning. Not only the statics, but also the dynamics must
be given a hearing. Hence, as a product of the energy of the
Word, the Church may not be cut off, but it must find a
place of its own in theological science as a whole. So far as
this produces an effect upon the organic system of theologic
science, this point will be treated in the last chapter but one
of this volume ; here it is mentioned only in so far as it
produces an effect upon the method of theoloyy. In this form
it comes nearest to what is generally called the relation of
theology to the Church, even though it creates some sur
prise that this question has almost always been separated
from the question about the method. If a fixed relation
between theology and the Church is to be treated in another
than an outward sense, this relation must also appear in the
method.

An outward relation between the Church and the practice
of theology is surely conceivable, in so far as the Church as an
institution has herself taken it frequently in hand through
the organ of her appointed theologians. She can bind such
theologians to her confession; she can forbid them to pub
lish anything in conflict with it; and by discipline she can
prevent them from every effort directed against it. But

574 § 88. THE PRIXCIPIUM IN ACTION [Div. Ill

this outward relation is entirely accidental. Civil govern
ment can act along the same lines, and has often done it.
Individuals, also, in free institutions can do the same thing.
On the other hand, the Church may found a theological
school of an entirely different kind, to which it allows entire
freedom of faith and doctrine. And therefore we did not
take our start in these outward and by consequence acci
dental relations, but in the essential and necessary relation
which exists between the Holy Scripture and the Church as
its product, in order that from this we might borrow the rule
for the relation between the Church and theology which is
to appear in its method.

There is, to be sure, a theological illusion abroad, which has
its relative right, which conve}rs the impression that, with the
Holy Scripture in hand, one can independently construct his
theology from this principium. This position was defended
only recently by a Protestant theologian at Vienna, Professor
Dr. Bohl (JDogmatik, Amst. 1887, p. xiii, v) ; and it must be
conceded to him that in the days of the Reformation, also, it
was generally imagined that a leap backward had been taken
across fourteen centuries, for the sake of repeating what had
once been done by the first Christians ; viz. to investigate
the Bible, while yet no confession or dogma had been
framed. But from the nature of the case this illusion is
not for a moment tenable. He who harbors it claims for
himself the unattainable honor of doing the work of bygone
generations. And besides being unhistoric to this extent,
he forgets also that no single person, but thinking, regen
erated humanity, is the subject of theology. Isolated in
vestigation can never furnish what can only be the result
of the cooperation and mental effort of all. Actually, there
fore, this illusion is a denial of the historic and the or
ganic character of the study of theology, and for this reason
it is inwardly untrue. No theologian, following the direc
tion of his own compass, would ever have found by him
self what he now confesses and defends on the ground of
the Holy Scripture. By far the largest part of his results
is adopted by him from theological tradition, and even

CHAP. Ill] § 88. THE PRINCIPIUM IN ACTION 575

the proofs, which he cites from the Scripture, at least as a
rule, have not been discovered by himself, but have been
suggested to him by his predecessors. Thus, it is noteworthy
that Calvin, who, undeniably, wrote at times as though
affected by this same illusion, appeals constantly to Augus
tine and Thomas Aquinas, which shows that this illusion did
not govern his method. The true element in this represen
tation, meanwhile, should not be overlooked. And this is
grasped at once if one places at the end of the way what
Professor Dr. Bb'hl has held as truth at its beginning. He
makes it to appear as if by making a tabula rasa the theolo
gian reverts at once to the Holy Scripture and nothing but
the Scripture. The actual course pursued, however, is this.
The beginning is made under the influence of all sorts of
other factors, while the task is not ended until, at the end of
the way, all these factors are made to disappear, so that finally
our well-balanced conviction rests upon nothing but the Holy
Scripture. Then the scaffold is taken away, and we stand
on the pinnacle of the temple. This is the final ground that
must be reached if the theological motive is to attain to
its point of rest. And it is from the exalted feeling which
then inspires the theologian that the illusion objected to
above is born.

Without hesitation, therefore, the factor of the Church must
be included in theological investigation. From the life of the
Church it appears, what activity the Holy Scripture occa
sions, which activity in turn sheds light upon its content.
This would not have been the case to so great an extent if
there had been only one interpretation of the Holy Script
ure prevalent in the Church ; for this would have tended to
likeness of formulation. But such was not the case. Almost
all possible interpretations have been tried ; all these inter
pretations have sought to maintain themselves and to reach
fixed forms of expression, and the fruit and effect of these
several interpretations are manifest in history and in present
conditions. Hence the domain of the Holy Scripture is no
longer unexplored territory, on the contrary it is a variegated
highland, crossed in all directions, all the mountain passes and

576 § 88. THE PRINCIPIUM IN ACTION [Div. Ill

paths of which are known, while the goal of each is freely
told by experienced guides. As it would be the height of
folly, on one's first arrival in Switzerland, to make it appear
that he is the first to investigate the Berner Oberland, since
common sense compels him on the contrary to begin his
journey by making inquiry among the guides of the country,
the same is true here. In its rich and many-sided life, ex
tending across so many ages, the Church tells you at once
what fallible interpretations you need no longer try, and
what interpretation on the other hand offers you the best
chances for success. On this ground the claim must be put,
that the investigator of the Holy Scripture shall take account
of what history and the life of the Church teaches concerning
the general points of view, from which to start his investiga
tion, and which paths it is useless to further reconnoitre.

But the influence of this factor does not limit itself to this.
The investigator does not stand outside of the Church, but is
himself a member of it. Hence into his own consciousness
there is interwoven the historic consciousness of his Church.
In this historic consciousness of his Church he finds not merely
the tradition of theologians and the data by which to form an
estimate of the results of their studies, but also the confes
sional utterances of the Church. And this implies more.
These utterances of his Church do not consist of the inter
pretation of one or another theologian, but of the ripest fruit
of a spiritual and dogmatic strife, battled through by a whole
circle of confessors in violent combat, which enlightened their
spiritual sense, sharpened their judgment, and stimulated
their perception of the truth ; which fruit, moreover, has
been handed down to him by the Church through its divinely
appointed organs. It will not do, therefore, to place these
dogmatical utterances on the same plane with the opinions
of individual theologians. In a much deeper sense than
they, they provide a guarantee for freedom from error,
and he who belongs to such a Church has himself been
moulded in part by them. This gives rise to the demand,
that every theologian shall, in his investigations, reckon
with all those things that are taught him by the history

CHAI-. Ill] § 88. THE miNCIPIUM IN ACTION 577

of the churches concerning well and badly chosen paths in
this territory to be investigated ; and, also, in the second
place, that he shall take the dogmas of his Church as his
guide, and that he shall not diverge from them until he is
compelled to do this by the Word of God. Hence, one should
not begin by doubting everything, and by experimenting to
see whether on the ground of his own investigation he
arrives at the same point where the confession of his Church
stands; but, on the contrary, he should start out from the
assumption that his Church is right, while at the same time
he should investigate it, and only oppose it when he finds
himself compelled to do so by the Word of God. If such
prove the case, of course, it must be done ; and if it con
cerns any point of importance, an immediate break with his
Church is the necessary result, unless the Church herself
should modify her confession agreeably to his view. History,
however, teaches that ordinary differences in details of opinion
among theologians have implied no departure from essentials,
and that the conflict between God's Word and error in the con
fession has been carried to the end in those great movements
only, which have brought about a change in the entire think
ing consciousness. Great carefulness is always safe. The
proclamation of new discoveries is not always a proof of de
votion to the truth, it is sometimes a tribute to self-esteem.
Nevertheless, the point of support for theology may never be
looked for in the Church. It only finds that point of sup
port when it shows that what the Church has offered it as
acquired treasures, were really taken from the Scripture and
after the rule of the Scripture.

This decides at the same time the question, whether the
Church should prosecute the study of theology, or whether
theology grows on a root of its own. The question cannot
detain us here, whether in times of need we are not warranted
in establishing church-seminaries, and, in the absence of uni
versity training, to provide for a need, whose supply admits
of no delay. There is no question here of the education of
untrained persons for the ministry of the Word, but of theol
ogy as a science. And, from the nature of the case, there

578 § 89. RELATION TO SPIRITUAL REALITY [Div. Ill

can be no question of theology outside the pale of the Church,
because outside of this pale there is neither palingenesis nor
a spiritual enlightening, both of which are indispensable to
theology. But from this it does not follow, that, as an insti
tuted corporation, the Church itself should study theology.
This institution has a limited official task, and covers, by no
means, the whole of our Christian life. Outside of this institu
tion endless factors of our human life are at work within the
pale of the Church taken as an organism, upon each of which
the Spirit of Christ must exert His influence. One of these
factors is science, and so far from proceeding from the insti
tuted Church, science includes the Church in its object, and
must be subservient to her in the accomplishment of her
task. The subject of Christian science is also the subject of
Christian theology ; or, how could theology otherwise take
a place in the organism of science ? The instituted Church
can never be the subject of the Christian science, and conse
quently it cannot be this of the science of theology. Hence,
the dilemma: Your theology has the instituted Church for
its subject, in which case it is no science ; or if it is a science,
the Church as an institution cannot be its subject.

§ 89. Relation to the Spiritual Reality

In connection with this there is still another, no less impor
tant, factor which both affects theology and is indispensable
to it. The Church owes its rise not to the Word alone, but
in a deeper sense to the supernatural spiritual workings,
which go out among men, and whose central point is palin
genesis. In a supernatural sense this creates a spiritual
reality, which, in so far as the sphere of the consciousness
is concerned, cannot dispense with the Holy Scripture, but
which potentially does not proceed from the Scripture, but
from the Holy Ghost, or if you please concentrically from
Christ. This spiritual reality does not consist merely in the
deed and in the thing wrought by palingenesis, but from
this central point it radiates also subjectively in those who
are sanctified and enlightened, and objectively finds its
basis in the presence of the Holy Spirit in the Body of

CHAP. Ill] § 89. RELATION TO SPIRITUAL REALITY 579

Christ. The preaching of the Word joins itself to this spir
itual reality, becomes conscious of its inspiration, imparts
to it a conscious form, and the Church, as it actually appears,
is not merely the product of the Word of God, but at the
same time of this spiritual reality. Not as an institution, but
as an organism is she a house of the living God. The purer
a revelation the instituted Church is of her hidden, organic,
spiritual life, the greater is the authority in the spiritual sense
exercised by the Church upon the consciousness of the theo
logian. But that which on the other hand also is of great
importance to the method of theology, is the fact that this
spiritual reality alone provides that affinity to the Divine life
which is indispensable to the knowledge of God.

The "knowledge of God" is here taken as naturally com
municated knowledge, but not in the exclusively intellectual
sense. In our self-knowledge and in our knowledge of our
fellow-men there is also a component part, which is not
obtained by observation and reasoning built on this, but
which is of itself revealed in us. Without this working1 of the

sense-of-self and of sympathy, abstract intellectual knowledge
of ourselves or of others would be unable to grasp the reality
of its object. And in like manner, on the ground of our
creation after the Divine Image, a holy affinity and a spiritual
sympathy with the life of God must be manifest in our spirit,
if the revelations of the Holy Scripture are to be real to us
and to refer to an object grasped by us as a real object. Both
together are the constituent parts of our knowledge of God.
Spiritual affinity to the life of God enables us to grasp the
"things of God" as real in our deepest perception. The
revelation of the Holy Scripture interprets that reality to our
consciousness. There is no conscious knowledge without a
mystic knowledge, and there is no mystic knowledge without
the light of the Scripture that shines in our consciousness.
Alas, that these two should be so rudely separated. For this
gives on the one hand an intellectualism, which can do noth
ing but construe theoretical systems from the Scripture, and
on the other hand a mystical attempt to attain unto a vision
of God outside and above the Scripture. Violence is don3

580 §80. RELATION TO SPIRITUAL REALITY [Div. Ill

to the method of theology by this intellectualism as well as
by this one-sided mysticism. That method must adapt itself
to the fact of the actual cooperation of both factors. This
is possible only, when this spiritual reality is postulated in
the theologian, and demands the consequent union of his
spirit and the spiritual reality which exists concretely outside
of him, and which allows him to borrow from the Scripture
only the conscious form for this reality. The first was called
of old not incorrectly Theology of our inclinations (theologia
habitualis), or Theology of use (theologia utens) ; we should
rather call it the mystical knowledge of God in antithesis
with intellectual ; but by whatever name it goes, from the
nature of the case it assumes regeneration, the photismos and
the communion of saints, since by these alone one is brought
into this spiritual reality and becomes sufficiently spiritual to
grasp in his innermost soul the reality of those things re
vealed to us in the Scripture. He who is deaf must first
be healed from his deafness in order to be placed in true
touch with the world of sounds. When this contact has
been restored, the study of music can again be begun by him.
This is the case with reference to the study of theology.
Taken as the knowledge of God it is only conceivable, when
the spiritual ear is opened in him who prosecutes the study,
and to whom the reality of the unseen discovers itself. Palin
genesis, therefore, is a requirement which may not be aban
doned. Without palingenesis one stands antipathetically
opposed to the object of theology. Hence there is no love to
quicken communion. But we may not limit ourselves to this.
Regeneration by itself is no enlightening. By regeneration
the wheel of life in the centrum of our being fthe wheel of
nature or of birth, James iii. 6) is merely replaced upon its
pivot ; but this by itself lias not changed the world of our
conscious life. This occurs only when the Holy Spirit, hav
ing taken up His abode in ns, transfers His working from this
centrum to our facultates, to the faculty of the understanding
by enlightening and to the faculty of the will by sanctification.
If, in a more solemn sense than the ordinary believer, the theo
logian is called to enter into the revealed knowledge of God

CHAP. Ill] § 89. RELATION TO SPIRITUAL REALITY 581

with his understanding, it is evident that so long as he lacks
this enlightening he can make no progress. To regeneration
and enlightening, is added in the third place the communion
of saints. The theologian is no isolated worker, but in the
world of thought he is in his way the organ of restored hu
manity. The subject of theology presents itself to us in the
renewed consciousness of restored humanity, and every indi
vidual theologian allows this subject to work its effect pro
parte virili. The farther he isolates himself from restored
humanity the more this action must weaken, while on the
other hand its gain in energy keeps pace with his progress in
vital communion with this restored humanity. It is and re
mains an "apprehending with all the saints" (Eph. iii. 18),
and the apostles do not hesitate to say, that by this fellowship
with them alone does one come to the fellowship of the Father
and of the Son (1 John i. 3).

By this we do not claim, that in the field of theological
science, intelligent persons, who still lack this palingenesis,
photismos and fellowship, cannot furnish results that are
productive of lasting good. The labor to be done in the field
of theology is by no means all of one kind. This can be dis
tinguished into central and peripheral study. To search
out, decipher and compare documents and monuments, for
instance, to collect and arrange historical data, the writing of
monographs on the Cathedral of Cologne, on some order of
monks, or of Wessel Gansfort, etc., is altogether work which
lies in the periphery, and which in itself has little to do with
the research into the knowledge of God. It is all equiva
lent to the services which were rendered by Hiram of Tyre
for the temple on Sion, but which had next to nothing in
common with the sacred ministry behind the veil. These
studies are certainly indispensable, even as the work of Hiram
was indispensable in order that the High Priest might per
form his sacred office, but this did not require in the Tyrian
architect what was required in the Minister of the Sanctuary.
Spiritual affinity to this centrum is certainly not a matter of
indifference in these peripherical studies. What Aholiab
and Bezaleel did for the tabernacle, was much more inspired

582 § 80. RELATION TO SPIRITUAL REALITY [Div. Ill

work than what Hiram wrought on Sion's mount. And if,
instead of Hiram, a master builder of Israel, rejoicing in
Jehovah, could have built the Temple of Solomon, the work
undoubtedly would have been inspired by a higher impulse
of art. Our observation merely tends to do full justice to
the intelligence which, without being interwoven with the
life of the Holy Spirit, has been expended upon these peri-
pherical studies in the field of theology.

So far as connection with the spiritual reality is merely
put as a requisite in the theologian, it does not touch the
method of theology. But it is not difficult to show how
there flows an immediate result from this requisite for the
method of theology. For fellowship with this spiritual real
ity is not a constant conception, but it changes and is suscep
tible to becoming both faint and strong. This fellowship
witli the Father and with the Son will at one time react
strongly, and again weakly in one and the same person, and
in the long run a lasting increase will follow. If the person
himself were passive in this, and went through these changes
merely as nature goes through the changes of heat and cold,
it would not affect the method of theology. But this is not
the case. He who has been regenerated is a fellow-worker
with God, and according as he neglects or practises holy liv
ing, his fellowship with the Unseen diminishes or increases.
And from this follows the demand of theological method, that
the theologian shall be on the alert to feed and to strengthen
this fellowship. He who fails in this dulls the spiritual sense
by which he must observe what goes on in the sacred domain ;
while on the contrary he who wants to perfect himself in
the accuracy of his observations within this sacred domain,
is bound to apply himself to mystical devotion as well as to
pietistic practice of holiness. As the pianist must make his
fingers supple in order by a greater velocity to accommodate
them to the vibrations of the world of sounds, so the theo
logian must tune his inner being and hold it to that pitch
by prayer, meditation, self-denial and daily practice in order
to accommodate himself to the sound of heavenly things.
Not in the sense that prayer and meditation could ever take

CHAP. Ill] § 90. THE HOLY SPIRIT AS TEACHER 583

the place of alacrity and intelligence or of the "body of
doctrine " (copia doctrinae). By his supple fingers the pian
ist cannot produce a single tone, if he has not the instrument
itself at his disposal. But however strenuously we emphasize
this intellectual development, unless a spiritual development
be its guide, it degenerates of necessity into intellectualism,
and becomes cold, barren and unfruitful. Only when the
theologian applies himself in harmonious relation to the de
velopment of both, does he offer himself to the Holy Spirit as
a prepared instrument, and is able to reveal even more fully
the strength of this instrument.

§ 90. TJie Holy Spirit as Teacher (Spiritus Sanctus Doctor)

In this connection only can it be explained what has been
implied in the worship of the Holy Spirit by the Church of
Christ as the Teacher of the Church (Doctor ecclesiae). This
confession must now be considered, because it implies that
the action of the human mind, in order to attain to the
true " knowledge of God," and thus of all theology, stands
subject to his guidance. To understand this well, we must
first distinguish between the several sorts of activities that
go out from the Holy Ghost. From Him all animation pro
ceeds, as well as the whole creation, and wherever life glows,
its flame is ignited by the Holy Ghost. That flame is want
ing in the chaotic mass, and then the Holy Spirit moves as
yet separate above the chaos. But when the chaos becomes
cosmos, the fiery flame of the Spirit glows and scintillates
throughout the entire creation. In all conscious life this work
ing of the Holy Spirit reveals itself more intensively and
more definitely in the psychical life of man. Not because the
Holy Spirit is here a different one, but because this plane of life
stands higher, possesses the form of conscious life, and is conse
quently able to cause the energy of the Holy Spirit to appear
in a much higher form. In this sense all light in us, in our
emotional life as well as in the domain of science and art, is
light ignited by the Holy Ghost. But this does not touch
the highest sphere of His activity. This is reached only,
when from his side the creature places himself in conscious

584 §00. THE HOLY SPIRIT AS TEACHER [Div. HI

communion with this energy of the Holy Spirit, whereby the
Holy Spirit becomes the " Gemeingeist " in the organism of
humanity. And this is wanting in the life without palin
genesis. There the " Gemeingeist " is sought in a national
spirit, in a spirit of the times, in a prevailing tendency of
spirits, and this effort sets itself in opposition to the Holy
Spirit. But it is different with that tree of humanity
upon which the " Edelreis " has been grafted by God. For
humanity thus restored is identical with the body of Christ,
and in this body of Christ no other u Gemeingeist '' but the
Holy Spirit is conceivable. This lies expressed in the Pente
cost miracle, by which this indwelling of the Holy Spirit was
accomplished. Beautiful confession is made of this by the
Heidelberg Catechism, when it speaks of the Holy Spirit as
" He who dwells in Christ as the Head and in us as His mem
bers." Hence there can be but one thought entertained con
cerning the subject of restored humanity : viz., that it is led
and guided by the Holy Spirit, and this is the profounder
sense of what Jesus spake, that the Holy Spirit shall guide
into all the truth (John xvi. 13) ; which utterance by itself
simply implies that the Church of Christ should have a guide
on her way, and that this guide would lead her ever more
deeply into the knowledge of the truth. It is this Holy Spirit,
who alone is able to " search all the deep things of God "
(1 Cor. ii. 10). It is this same Holy Spirit who reveals
these mysteries unto us. And finally, it is this Holy Spirit
who, by His communion, makes us spiritual, gives us the mind
of Christ, and thereby enables us to judge spiritually (1 Cor.
ii. 10-16).

From the nature of the case it is this fact that dominates
theology. Theology is studied age after age, among all
classes of people and in all kinds of lands, in various circles
and under the influence of numerous factors, ecclesiastical
and non-ecclesiastical. In itself, therefore, this sundry task
would bear a broken and atomistic character. All unity
and all growth would be wanting. If it is nevertheless a
fact that this growth is not wanting, and that in the midst of
changes and variations unity and progress are apparent, then

CHAP. Ill] § 90. THE HOLY SPIRIT AS TEACHER 585

a higher subject, standing outside and above the subjects
of individual theologians and dominating them, must have
caused these many rills to flow in one bed, and in that bed
must have determined the direction of the stream. With the
other sciences this higher subject is given of itself in the
immanent logica, in the Logos of the object, which corre
sponds to the Logos in the subject and aids the logical under
standing of the object after a fixed law. That higher power
which guarantees unity and growth in these sciences is cer
tainly given in Creation. But such is not the case with
theology. This directs itself to a life, which is the fruit of re
creation; of re-creation in being as well as in consciousness;
and therefore only the Holy Spirit, who is the author of this
double re-creation, can here give the impulse, guidance and
direction to the spirits, and introduce unity in what goes out
from the individuals. And this claims a still stronger
emphasis, because the development of the re-created con
sciousness is conditioned by the Holy Scripture, of which the
Holy Spirit is the "primary author" (auctor primarius). If
it is a fact that the secondary authors (auctores secuudarii)
intended to convey much less of a meaning in their writings
than the Holy Spirit, under whose impulse they went to work,
then from the nature of the case the Holy Spirit alone is able
to reveal to the Church His rich and full intention regarding
the Holy Scripture. Hence there is unity in the theological
effort only because it is the selfsame Holy Spirit who gave us
the principium of theology and superintends the effect and
the application of this principium. The exegesis of the Holy
Scripture is correct and complete only when the Holy Spirit
interprets that Scripture in the Church of God. And the re
flection of the content of the Scripture in our consciousness,
and the reproduction of it by our consciousness, is true and
pure and entire only when the Holy Spirit gives command
and direction to this activity of the re-created consciousness.
The way in which this is done by the Church, in connection
with the office, will be shown in the following section. Even
without the influence of the instituted Church, it follows that
the individual theologian should always be conscious of this

586 § 90. THE HOLY SPIRIT AS TEACHER [DIV. in

working of the Holy Spirit. This is something both different
from and greater than his mystical fellowship with the spiritual
reality which was explained in the former section. Without
more, this mystical fellowship simply referred to the tenor
of his inner life. But it is entirely different when the theo
logian understands and feels that he is an organ of service,
on the ground of which he may confidently expect lasting
fruit of his labors so long as he puts himself in the service
of the Holy Ghost. This is entirely analogous to the differ
ence between the plodder on his own responsibility and the
man of science who labors in the service of the truth. What
in every other department of study is service of the truth,
is here service of the Holy Ghost. Without this sense of
service all study becomes subjectivistic, unhistorical, and ar
rogant, while, on the contrary, the placing of oneself at the
service of the truth, i.e. in this instance of the Holy Ghost,
banishes all pride, curbs the desire to be interesting by ex
hibiting new discoveries, feeds the desire of theological fel
lowship, and thereby sharpens that historic sense which
impels the theologian to join himself to that great work of the
Holy Spirit effected in past ages, which at most he may help
advance a few paces.

This, however, should not be interpreted in the sense that
the service of the Holy Spirit is antagonistic to the service of
the truth. The domain of palingenesis is no newly created
ground, but the outcome of re-creation. Hence the natural
life is subsumed in it, the natural consciousness also, i.e. those
powers, attributes, and laws of being, to which the human
consciousness is subject by its nature, in virtue of the creation.
As was seen above, the light of the Holy Spirit operates also
in this natural consciousness, and of itself this lower light is
adopted and included in the higher. If this were not so,
theology would be merely a mystical beholding (^eco/ata) ;
but for the reason alone that it is so, it appears as an intel
lectual and rational discipline (disciplina noetica and diano-
etica). On this depends also the old question, which from
the days of Arius has repeated itself in the Church, even
this: whether theology is authorized to draw out by logical

CHAP. Ill] § 91. THE CHURCH AND THE OFFICE 587

sequence what is not written avro\e^ei in the Holy Scripture.
Almost every tendency, whose interest it was to attach itself
to the letter of the Scripture, and to oppose inferences from
Scripture, has stated its objections against logical deduction
in its polemical writings. Even by Franciscus Veronius from
the side of Rome a similar objection was raised against
the theology of the Reformers (see Voetius, Disp. TheoL I.
pp. 5—12). In theory, however, this position has been de
fended only by some Anabaptists, and later by the Metho
dists, although they themselves did not strictly adhere to it.
This whole conception meanwhile starts out from a mechani
cal Scripture-view, and is not worthy of refutation. It is of
importance only in so far as it may be asked, whether in His
revelation the Holy Spirit was bound to logic. In principle
this is denied by all dualistic tendencies. They view the
spiritual life of palingenesis and the intellectual life of sin
ful nature as two spheres which do not touch each other.
The refutation of this false assertion must be sought in this :
(1) in that palingenesis is represented as a re-creation, which
implies the subsumption of the natural life ; (2) in that the
Holy Spirit is the author of the logical in the natural life as
well as of the spiritual in the regenerated life; and (3) in
that the Holy Spirit Himself, as the " Gemeingeist," leads
and directs not merely the mystic-spiritual, but also the
logical-dianoetical action of the Church, and therefore also of
theology.

§ 91. The Church and the Office

As the result of the two preceding sections no other infer
ence is possible, than that theological science can only exist
in the Church of Christ. Outside of her pale palingenesis
is wanting, faith is wanting, and the enlightening, and the
fellowship of saints, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit as
" Gemeingeist." By this, however, it is by no means meant,
that the organ for theological science is given in the insti
tuted Church. The conception of the instituted Church is
much narrower than the Church of Christ when taken as the
body of Christ, for this includes in itself all the powers and

588 §91. THE CHURCH AM) THE OFFICE [Div. Ill

workings that arise from re-creation. There is a Christian
disposition and a Christian fellowship, there is a Christian
knowledge and a Christian art, etc., which indeed spring
from the field of the Church and can flourish on this field
alone, but which by no means therefore proceed from the
instituted Church. The instituted Church finds her province
bounded by her offices, and these offices are limited to the
ministry of the Word, the Sacraments, Benevolence, and
Church government. These are the only offices that have
been appointed as special functions in her life. All other
expressions of Christian life do not work by the organ of
the special offices, but by the organs of the re-created natural
life : the Christian family by the believing father and mother,
Christian art by the believing artist, and Christian schools
by the believing magister. From which it follows that in this
domain of palingenesis science also does not come to revela
tion by organs specially appointed for this purpose, but by
the regenerated natural organs. By making an exception of
theology here, it is assigned a place outside the organism of
Christian knowledge, which prevents it from having one and
the same subject in common with the other, Christianly under
stood, sciences. If then for want of a better school, or in
behalf of her own safety, the instituted Church may found
a seminary for the education of her ministry, such a semi
nary is never a scientific institution in its absolute sense.
Neither are we authorized, in view of such a seminary, to
withdraw ourselves from the obligation of prosecuting the
science of theology for its own sake. If preachers are to be
not merely Ministers of the Word, but theologians as well,
the university training is indispensable.

But from this it does not follow that the instituted Church
as such should not be of profound significance to the science
of theology. The case indeed is this : sufficient knowledge
of God ad hoc flows from the Holy Scripture in a three
fold way: personal, ecclesiastical and scientific. If now we
consider scientific theology first, then it is clear that its
beginnings are very slow, that its growth covers the lapse
of ages, and that it is not only still very incomplete, but

CHAP. Ill] § 91. THE CHURCH AND THE OFFICE 589

it will never be finished, because as a science it can never
be at a standstill, but will always advance without ever being
able to reach completion. In the earlier ages especially it
was very imperfect. If then for the sake of procuring the
necessary knowledge of God, the Church, which we referred
to in the second place, should have had to wait for the result
of this study, generation after generation would have passed
away before the Church could have begun her task. And
this was not to be allowed. The Church had to be in
immediate readiness. She could not be held back by any
embarrassment. Neither has this taken place. From the
very beginning, before there could be so much as a question
of science, the Church has borrowed the content of her
preaching from the Scripture and thereby has made use of a
knowledge of God, which was sufficient ad hoc, i.e. for the
life of the Church. What was needed in the churchly life
gradually increased also, but in connection with this the
Church unfolded the content of her preaching ever more
richly, at the same time profiting by the fruit of scientific
theology that gradually arose. Thus churchly confessions
originated, which were increasingly rich and full, but these
churchly confessions have never announced themselves as the
results of science. And it is different again in the third place
with the personal knowledge of God of each individual. The
individual person, whose life is measured by the day, was still
less able than the Church, to wait till science had ended her
combats and finished her task. In a sense even more definite
than the Church each individual must personally be in instant
readiness, and have convictions, which for him, ad hoc, can
alone be obtained by personal faith and personal experience.
Every other conception is unmerciful, since it is unable to
give the elect, at every given moment, according to his several
condition, that knowledge of God which he needs. Distinc
tion meanwhile is readily made between this personal, churchly
and scientific theology (or knowledge of God). The first
tends to supply each child of God his comfort in life and in
death. The second, to enable the Church to preach and to
maintain her confession in the face of the world. And the

500 § !U. THE CHURCH AND TIIK OFFICE [Div. HI

third is charged with the introduction of the knowledge of
God into the human consciousness. The first has for its circle
the life's-sphere of the individual, the second the circle of the
instituted Church, and the third the circle of the church taken
as an organism. In connection with this the form of the
knowledge of God is distinguished also in these three ways.
Personal faith does not formulate, but, as the fathers since
Augustine said, " appropriates and enjoys " (utitur et fruitur).
The churchly confession formulates in dogmata. Scientific
theology sifts and tries, analyzes and draws inferences, con
structs systems and places in connection with what lies out
side. And, finally, the first is fruit of personal enlightenment
and experience ; the second, of the official activity of the
Church, also in her struggles with heresy ; and the third is
the independent fruit of study.

If, now, we bring this in connection with the guidance of
the Holy Spirit, then this guidance in the case of the personal
knowledge of God consists in the providential and spiritual
leading, by which the heart of the individual is influenced and
his world of thought is formed ; in the case of the ecclesiasti
cal knowledge of God it is the guidance of the Holy Spirit
bestowed upon the Churches through the office ; and in the
case of the scientific knowledge it consists in the clarifying of
the consciousness. This, however, must not be understood in
the sense that these three factors are isolated, and work each
by itself. No man is a theologian in a scientific sense unless
he is also a partaker of personal enlightenment and spiritual
experience. For, unless this is the case, his starting-point is
wanting, and he has no contact with the principium of the
ology. Neither can the theologian stand outside the church
relation, and thus outside of personal union with the churchly
confession, for then he finds himself outside the historic pro
cess, and, in fact, the organic contact is broken with the life-
circle, within whicli his studies must flourish, so far as is pos
sible to him. The personal faith, which simply touches the
principium, and which as being entirely individual is an ines
timable magnitude, needs receive no further mention here.
For the theologian, it is the starting-point ; but it is nothing

CHAP. Ill] § 91. THE CHURCH AND THE OFFICE 591

more. It is very different, on the other hand, with the
churchly confession. An objective condition lies in this. It
is a product of the life of the Church, as in an ever richer form
it has revealed itself officially, i.e. in ecclesiastical assemblies,
under the special guidance of the Holy Spirit. Two things are
contained in this confession. First, the self-consciousness of
the Church, as it has developed itself historically, which, con
sequently, is the result of a spiritual experience and a spir
itual struggle that fills in the gap between the present and
the first appearance of the Christian Church. And in the
second place, the result of the special leading of the Holy
Spirit, vouchsafed in the course of ages to the Church, and
to the knowledge of God that has developed itself within her
pale. For this reason the theologian should not undervalue
the confession of his Church, as if in it a mere opinion pre
sented itself to him over against which, with equal if not
with better right, he might place his opinion. The life of the
Church, and the forming and reforming of her self-conscious
ness, is an action which is uninterruptedly continued. Scien
tific study unquestionably does and must exert an influence
upon this, but for this reason this action should not sacrifice
its independent character and motive of its own. A company
charged with the public water-works may change the direction
of some part of a river-bed by cutting off some needless bend
or obstructive turn, but this does not render the company the
original creator of the river who causes its waters to flow. In
the same way, the scientific theologian may exert a correc
tive power here and there upon the confessional life of the
Church, but this does not constitute him the man who sets
this life in motion. That life pursues its own course, the
stream of that life creates a bed for itself. To the theolo
gian, therefore, the confession of his Church does not merely
possess the presumption of truth ; it appears objectively be
fore him clothed with authority : with that authority which
the many wield over the individual, with the authority
of the ages in the face of ephemeral excitements ; with the
authority of the office in distinction from personal life ; and
with the authority which is due to the churchly life by

592 § in. THE CHURCH AND THE OFFICE [Div. Ill

virtue of the guidance of the Holy Ghost. It is not lawful,
therefore, for him simply to slight this confessional life of
the Church in order, while drifting on his own oars, to con
struct in his own way a new system of knowledge of God.
He who undertakes to do this is bound in the end to see
his labor stricken with unfruitfulness, or he destroys the
churchly life, whose welfare his study ought to further.

From this, however, it does not follow that his studies
are to have no other tendency than to confirm the con
fession of his Church, as if this were clothed with infallible
authority. This was the fault committed by Scholasticism.
The guidance of the Holy Spirit truly intends to be immedi
ately effective in its final result ; but it compels itself least of
all to be this in every part of its action. A guide is given you
of whom you know that in the end he will bring you where
you want to be, but he does not necessarily lead you along a
straight line and at once to that end. You approach this end
only by stages ; and for the sake of having your own thought
and activity develop themselves, this guide allows you to
take circuitous routes, and to try roads that run out, from
which you will return of your own accord ; while amid all
these apparently contradictory movements he keeps the end
in view, and brings it to pass, that finally you go to it of
yourself. And in this very connection scientific theology is
of a practical significance to the Church. It carries, indeed,
the end in itself, of causing the glory of God's truth to
shine also in the world of our consciousness. But it is
equally called to examine critically the confessional life of
the Church, by ever and anon testing the confession of the
Church by the principium of theology, i.e. the Word of God.
For which reason the theologian can never be a man of
abstract study. Of two things he must do one. As a man
of study he must remain in harmonious contact with the
Church, whose confession he confirms by his study. Or he
must enter an ever dangerous suit against the Church, whose
confession he antagonizes in one point or another, on the
ground of the Word of God. If now this touches an infer
ential question, which lies in the most distant circumference

CHAP. Ill] § 92. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY 593

of dogma, the character of this struggle is less serious. But
if the difference concerns the centrum of the confession, i.e.
the real knowledge of God, the Church must either consent
to his view and modify her confession, or he must break with
the Church, whose confession he has found to be false. In
this it is assumed, of course, that both he and his Church
stand upon the basis of God's Word. Otherwise either the
Church or the theologian who criticises her is wanting, so
that there may be a good deal of quarrelling, as the outcome of
dishonesty, but there can be no question of a spiritual strug
gle. But that spiritual struggle is the very thing in question.
From both sides it must be carried on for the sake of the truth
of God. And even as the martyr, the theologian must have
courage to hazard his whole position in this struggle. Either
he must be convinced, or the Church must be convinced by
him. If one of these two things does not take place, there
is no escape from a final breach. Hence, even when appre
hended centrally, theological science owes the Church a
bounden duty in service of the Holy Spirit. Not the duty of
supplying her with the assurance of the faith ; this the theo
logian must derive from the life of the Church. And a
theology which makes it appear that it has to furnish the
assurance of faith, cuts away the knowledge of God from its
moorings, and builds by the authority of reason. But, in the
service of the Holy Spirit, theology is called ever and anon to
test the historic, confessional life of the Church by its source,
and to this end to examine it after the norm of the Holy Script
ure. By itself confessional life tends to petrify and to fall
asleep, and it is theology that keeps the Church awake ; that
lends its aid in times of conflict with oft-recurring heresies ;
that rouses her self-consciousness anew to a giving of account,
and in this way averts the danger of petrifaction.

§ 92. The Liberty of Scientific Theology

To be able, however, to accomplish this task, scientific
theology must be entirely free in her movement. This, of
course, does not imply license. Every study is bound by the
nature of its object, and subjected to the laws that govern

504 § 02. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

the activity of our consciousness. But tins is so far from a
limitation of its liberty, that its very liberty consists in being
bound to these laws. The railway train is free, so long as
the rails hold its wheels in their embrace. But it becomes
unfree, works itself in the ground, and cannot go on as soon
as the wheels jump the track. Hence there is no question of
desiring to free the theologian as such at the bar of his own
conscience from his obligation to his subject, his principium,
or the historic authority of the Church ; what we should object
to is, that the study should be prevented from pursuing its
own way. That a Church should forbid a minister of the
Word the further use of her pulpit when he antagonizes her
confession, or that a board of trustees should dismiss a pro
fessor, who, according to their view, does not serve the end
for which he was appointed, has nothing whatever to do with
this liberty of studies. A ship-owner, who dismisses a captain
because he sails the ship to a different point of destination
from what the ship-owner designated, in no wise violates
thereby the personal rights of the captain. When a Church
appoints a minister of the Word, she and she alone is to de
termine what she desires of him, and when he is no longer
able to perform this, she can no longer retain him in her ser
vice. And in the same way, when the curators of a university
appoint some one to teach Lutheran dogmatics, and this theo
logian meanwhile becomes Romish, it is not merely their right
but their duty to displace him. Yea, stronger still, a theolo
gian who, in such a case, does not withdraw, is dishonest, and
as such cannot be upheld. But these cases have nothing to
do with the liberty of studies, and at no time does the churchly
liberty of the theologian consist of anything but his right to
appeal to the Word of God, on the ground of which he may
enter into a spiritual conflict with his Church, and if he fails
in this, to withdraw. Thus when the liberty of theology is
spoken of, we do not mean theology as attached to any office,
but theology as an independent phenomenon. The question
simply is, whether, after it has separated itself from this office,
and thus makes its appearance as theology only, it is or is not
free.

CHAP. Ill] § 92. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY 595

And the answer is, that every effort to circumscribe the
ology by any obstacle whatever is antagonistic to her nature,
and disables her for her calling. The law of thought will
not allow you to call the thing black, which you see to be
white. As a thing presents itself to you, so does it cast its
image in your consciousness. To say that you see a thing in
this way, but that you must represent it to yourself in the
other way, is to violate the freedom of thought. We grant
that a man of study is frequently blinded by superficiality,
by want of thoroughness and sobriety, and sometimes even
by conceit and arrogance, so that he has a false view of his
object. Formally, however, this does not alter the case;
even when his view is false, he is bound to describe a thing
as he sees it. We are concerned here with the same problem
as with the erring conscience. When Saul before his conver
sion worked havoc among the churches of God, his conscience
erred, in so far as he deemed this to be his duty to God. If,
however, he had remained quiescent and allowed the thing
free course which he thought it his duty to oppose, at that
moment he would have violated his conscience and have
formally sinned. Whoever, therefore, may please to be a the
ologian, and whatever conclusions he may reach by his inves
tigations, and may publish as results of his study, you must
quietly allow. Even when the Church or a curatorium de
cides that his views disqualify him for the office he may hold,
neither his theory nor his liberty of speech or writing may be
denied him. Of course he must be willing to risk his office
and his position ; but what is this, compared to what was
risked by the martyrs for their conviction ? If he is a man of
principle, and means what he says, he will not hesitate to make
this sacrifice. And how great an influence one may exert
upon theology, even without office, has sufficiently been shown
by Spinoza. All the theologian can ask is, liberty to investi
gate, speak and write agreeably to the claims of his convic
tion. If only he is not impeded in this, he is free. And that
is the liberty in which he may not be hindered in the least.

We grant that this may give rise to the case, that he who
began as theologian will cease to be a theologian, in order

596 §!>->. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY [Uiv. Ill

that he may speak as a philosopher. He who chooses another
object than that of theology and consequently goes out from
another principium, and investigates agreeably to another
method, may still be a man of learning, but he is no longer a
theologian. But even this must be left to the free operation
of minds. The persistent heretic must be banished from the
Church ; a professor, whose presence is a menace to the high
est interests of a school, must be dismissed ; but from the
iield of theology no one can disappear, unless he leaves it of
his own free will. He may do this consciously by the open
declaration : I am no longer a theologian ; or, again, the results
of his investigations may bring it about, that at length nobody
numbers him any more among theologians. But so long as it
pleases him to pose as a theologian, no one can prevent him ;
even when he has undermined, as far as he was able, succes
sively, the object, principle and method of theology. How
ever just, therefore, the people's protest is, when from the
pulpit a theologian attacks the confession of the Church which
lie serves, or when from the platform a professor antagonizes
the standards of the school for whose principles he ought
to make propaganda, that protest becomes unwarranted and
may not be tolerated when it directs itself against the liberty
of the man of science. Expression may be given to the indig
nation which smarts under an assault on sacred things ; but
in his personal liberty the man of science must be respected.
And when he shows that for the sake of his scientific convic
tion there is no sacrifice too great for him, so that he bravely
defies opposition from every quarter, praise must not be with
held from him for such heroic strength of character. This
praise must be withheld from the man who, for the sake of
saving his position, sacrifices his Church or his school ; but it
is due to those titanic spirits who show, indeed, that they do
not contend for their position, but simply for the liberty of
science and the liberty of their deepest conviction.

This absolute liberty is, moreover, indispensable, if theology
is to discharge her duty to the confessional life of the Church.
Not that the Church should yield summarily to every criti
cism of her confession. The Church may not modify her

CHAP. Ill] § 92. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY 597

confession, unless the conviction takes hold of her that some
part of her confession cannot stand before the bar of the
Word of God. But on the other hand, also, her confession
must be alive ; in its truth and clearness it must rest upon
the Church's consciousness of life itself, and thereby be so
firmly rooted, that it cannot stand in fear of criticism. Real
gold will court trial ; and theology is not able to try, test
and criticise, if she is withheld the right to do this freely
and radically. The history of Scholasticism shows, that when
the expression of free thought is choked, and criticism of the
confession becomes a question of life and death, theology
fails of her task in many respects. And on the other hand,
the Church has nothing to fear from this liberty of studies,
provided she but do her duty within her own pale. Of course,
she must not permit her confession to be attacked or ignored
in her pulpits. The Church undertakes the propaganda of
her life and consciousness, and he who does not share her life,
or does not think from her world of thought, cannot be her
organ. She must also apply Christian discipline, in order to
keep the purity of confession intact among her members.
But provided she is not behind in this, the criticism of theo
logical science can bring her blessings only. For this pro
vides the constant stimulus to turn back from the confession
to the Word of God, and so prevents the Church from living
on the water in the pitcher, and allowing itself to be cut off
from the Fountain whence that water was drawn. A sharp,
critical development of theology will ever entail a keener
wakefulness of historical-positive theology, to make the
Church understand anew the treasure she holds in her creed.
In this way also the confessional development of the Church
will not be at a standstill, but be ever making advance. And
if for a while negative criticism carries the greatest weight,
it will not last long, since the theologians who stand outside
the life of the Church are bound to lose, sooner or later, their
interest in theological studies.

If revelation were given in a dialectically prepared form, so
that it consisted of a confession given by God Himself, of a
catechism and of a law worked out in detailed particulars ; if

598 §92. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

such a dialectically prepared form were given us in our own
language, and if the copy of this lay before us in the original,
infallible manuscript : the majesty of God would not invite,
but forbid, such criticism and such a liberty of studies. But
such was not the appointment of God. Revelation was given
in a historic and symbolic form to be worked into a dialectic
form by us ; it was given in a language that is foreign to us ;
and the manuscripts which are at our disposal are very
different from each other and not free from faults. We are
offered no bread cut and sliced, but seed-grain, from which,
by our labor, wheat grows, in turn to be ground into meal
and made into bread. Hence the human factor is not doomed
to inactivity, but stimulated to highest action, which action
must always go through all sorts of uncertainty and commo
tion. By feeling only we find the way. In doing this our con
sciousness tries to grasp, assimilate and reproduce its object
with the aid of both actions of which our consciousness is
capable : viz. immediate faith and discursive thought. At
one time the results of this twofold action coincide, and at
another time they antagonize each other, and from this
tumult that activity is born by which we make personal,
ecclesiastical and scientific advances. There is here no
papal infallibility to furnish a final decision, and least of all
should this be taken as the continuation of infallible inspira
tion, since it differs entirely in form, character and tendency
from the inspiration of the Scripture. Moreover, such a
papal infallibility can have no other result than is actually
seen in the Church of Rome ; viz. that faith in the rich treas
ure of revelation is superseded by a faith in the Church, and
that the healthy reaction of free theology upon the confes
sional life of the Church is entirely excluded. Such a papal
infallibility aims at an outward, mathematical certainty which
is irreconcilably opposed to the whole manner of existence of
the revelation of God. To a certain extent it may even be
said that in an empirical sense there is nothing certain here.
There is conflict of opinion concerning the reading of the
manuscripts, concerning the interpretation of every book
and pericope, concerning every abstraction and deduction,

CHAP. Ill] § 92. LIBERTY OF SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY 599

and concerning every formulation and every application of
the thought obtained. He who desires notarial accuracy is
disappointed at every step in this sanctuary. But when
the outcome shows that, notwithstanding all these difficul
ties, thousands and tens of thousands have obtained full
assurance and certainty, to our Protestant consciousness it
implies the guarantee that the Holy Spirit has not merely
given us a Book and then withdrawn Himself from our human
scene of action, but that that same Holy Spirit continues to
be our leader, and in that very freedom of the action of our
spirit causes His dominion to triumph.

CHAPTER IV

THE ORGANISM OF THEOLOGY

§ 93. Part of an Organism

By the organism of theology we mean what is commonly
called "the division of the theological departments." Since,
however, theology as an organic whole is itself an organic
member of the all-embracing organism of science, for the sake
of clearness, a short resume is here necessary of what was
treated in our first chapter. Notwithstanding our position
that science shows itself in a twofold form, viz. science as
prosecuted in the circle outside of palingenesis, and science
as studied in the circle ruled over by palingenesis, this an
tithesis is nevertheless merely empirical. According to its
idea there is but one science, and they who do not reckon
with palingenesis naturally refuse to see anything but the
result of imagination and obscurantism in what is science to
us. And we, in turn, refuse to acknowledge as science the
science which is studied outside of palingenesis. As said
before, both these sciences have a very broad field in common,
which includes all those objects which are not affected by the
differentiation of palingenesis, in so far as the investigation
of these objects employs no other functions of our mind
than those which have remained uninjured by the darken
ing brought upon us by sin. This embraces, in the first
place, everything that is commonly called sciences by the
English, and sciences exactes by the French ; at least so far
as the exponents of these sciences hold themselves to their
task, and do not make cosmological inferences or construct
philosophical hypotheses. But in the second place, the sub
ordinate labor of the spiritual sciences also belongs to this,
so far as it tends exclusively to collect and determine exter
nal, observable data. Hence a very large part of philological

600

CHAP. IV] § 93. PART OF AN ORGANISM 601

study, in the narrower sense, and of historical detail goes on
outside of the afore-mentioned differentiation. The fact that
a person compares a few codices constitutes him by no means
a philologist, nor because he studies a certain part of positive
law is he made a jurist, and much less does he become a theo
logian because he inquires into the history of a monastery.
But in doing this, such scholars may readily furnish contri
butions which are of lasting value to their several depart
ments. So far as the sciences exactes rest simply on counting,
weighing and measuring, they do not stand very high ; neither
does this subordinate detail-study of the spiritual sciences
bear an ideal scientific character ; but they have this in their
favor, that universal validity attaches to their results, and
for this reason, though unjustly, they are largely credited
as being the only strictly scientific studies. But this is only
self-deception. These studies derive their peculiar character
simply from the fact that they do not touch the higher func
tions of the subject, and are affected by the subject only in
so far as, standing outside the influence of sin, it is one and
the same in all investigators. Science in the higher sense be
gins only where these higher functions operate, and then, of
course, these two streams must separate, because the work
ing of these higher functions, with and without palingenesis,
differs. From this it follows, at the same time, that universal
validity cannot be attained except in so far as, potentially
at least, these higher functions work identically. The stu
dents of science in whom these functions are unenlightened
can advance no farther than the recognition of their results
in their own circle. And on the other hand, the students
of science to whom the enlightening has come can never
promise themselves anything more than the recognition of
their results in the circle of those who have been enlight
ened. From the nature of the case this is intended simply
in the potential sense. Neither one of these sciences ex
pects an immediate recognition of their results and from all ;
they simply assume that every one who reaches a logical
and complete development within one of these two circles
will find the results to be thus and not otherwise. Hence the

602 § 93. PART OF AN ORGANISM [Div. Ill

position is this, that that science which arises from natural
data only, subjective as well as objective, asserts, and is bound
to assert itself, to be the science which originates of necessity
from the reflection of the cosmos in the subjective conscious
ness of humanity. And, on the other hand, that science which
reckons with the fact of re-creation, objective as well as sub
jective, asserts that real science is born only from the human
consciousness that has been restored again to its normal self,
and therefore cannot recognize as such the fruit of the work
ing of the still abnormal human consciousness. The rule
that he who is not born again of water and spirit cannot see
the kingdom of God, applies not merely to the domain of
theology. Without enlightening, the jurist is not able to
open his eyes to see the Justice of God, neither can the
philologist observe the course of God in history and in the
conscious life of the nations.

But whatever view-point one occupies, science, as it de
velops itself in each of these two circles, is in either case
organically one, because the object forms an organic whole,
and the subject in the consciousness of humanity is itself
organic, and lives organically in connection with the object.
Of course theology falls of itself out of that science which
has no other machinery than human data; and since by sin
and curse, both objectively and subjectively, a disturbance has
been created in the organism, its organic character is bound
to exhibit defects, and frequently lead to a non liquet, or
even to radical agnosticism. But neither the one nor the
other renders science, thus interpreted, either mechanical or
atomistic. The characteristic of the organism remains rec
ognizable and dominant. And from the nature of the case
this applies in a much higher sense to that science which is
under the power of re-creation, since it includes theology
and possesses the missing links. From this organic character
of science follows, at the same time, its unity. From our
standpoint we do not assert that the subject of theology is
those who have been enlightened, and that the subject of all
other science is those of the natural mind (-v^u^t/co?), but we
claim that the only subject of all science is the consciousness

CHAP. IV] § 94. THEOLOGY AN INDEPENDENT ORGAN 603

of regenerated or re-created humanity ; and that so large a
part of scientific study can be furnished equally well by
those who stand outside of this, is simply because this build
ing also admits a vast amount of hod-carrier service which is
entirely different from the higher architecture.

§ 94. In the Organism of Science Theology is an Indepen
dent Organ

When Schleiermacher described theology as an agglomerate
of a few departments of knowledge, which found their unity
in the " guidance and direction of the Church," he actually ab
rogated theology and her organic existence in the organism of
the sciences. An agglomerate is never organic, it is the oppo
site of organic, and is never made organic by any unity in the
purpose of your studies. The organic character of a science
carries also in itself a teleological element, but the end alone
can never make an organism of that which differs in object
and principle. The later effort, therefore, was entirely ra
tional, to regain the unity of object by making religion the
object of investigation. We do not deny that the science of
religion finds an equally organic place in the organism of
science, as for instance the science of the aesthetic, moral, or
intellectual life of man. It is our conviction that this science
got into the wrong track, when by the aid of religious evolu
tion it repealed the antithesis between true and false religion.
But even so, this science is formally an organic part of the
organism of science. We simply deny that in this organism
the science of religion can ever constitute an independent
organ. By leading motives the organism of science is divided
into a few great complexes, which form as it were special
provinces in the republic of the sciences. Each of these com
plexes divides itself into smaller complexes, and these smaller
complexes subdivide into smaller groups ; but for this very
reason the distinction between the coordinate and the sub
ordinate must not be lost from sight. In our body the
nervous system forms a complex of its own; hence every
thing that is radically governed by the nerves must be:
subsumed by science under this head. The Veluwe along1

OU4 § (.»4. THEOLOGY AN IXDKI'KXDKNT ORGAN [Div. Ill

the Zuyder Zee is indeed a particular region of land, but
it should not for this reason be coordinated with the Dutch
provinces. Nothing arbitrary therefore can be tolerated
in the distribution of the organism of science. There must
be a principium of division, and only those parts of the or
ganism are independent which by virtue of this principium
are governed immediately by this general, and not by a lower,
principium of division. Pathology cannot be an independent
science, because it is not formed immediately by the prin
cipium of division of science, but is governed by the general
conception of the medical science. And this is the case here.
As a psychological-historical phenomenon, religion is but one
of many psychological phenomena. It is granted that it is
the most important, but it is always one of many. It is no
genus, but a species under a genus. Hence the science of
religion can never claim for itself an independent place. It
belongs to the philological faculty, and in this faculty it
occurs as a subordinated science, partly under psychology,
partly under ethnology, and partly under philosophy.

But it becomes a different matter when, passing by the
" Science of Religion," we speak of Tlteology in the sense
indicated above. Then we deal with a science whicli has a
single common object (objectum univocum), arises from a sin
gle common principle (principium univocum), and develops
itself after a method of its own. This cannot be subordi
nated, either under the natural, juridical, philological, or
medical sciences, hence it must be coordinated. In scientific
research human consciousness pursues the five principally
differentiated parts of its total object. It directs itself to
man, to nature about man, and to Grod as man's creator, pre
server, and end ; while with man, as far as he himself is
concerned, logical distinction must be made between his
psychic, somatic and his social existence. These are the
five primordial lines which spring immediately from the
principium of division, i.e. from the human consciousness
in relation to its total object; and this agrees entirely with
the division of the faculties, which is the outcome of the
increated law of life itself and of its practical needs. And

CHAP. IV] § 95. BOUNDARY OF THEOLOGY IN SCIENCE 605

since theology directs itself to the "knowledge of God,"
it cannot be subordinated, but must be coordinated, and
because of its independent object, its independent princip-
ium, and its independent method, it claims our homage as
an independent organ in the organism of science.

§ 95. The Boundary of Theology in the Organism of Science

Theology is not isolated in the organism of science. It is
united with it in an organic way. From this it follows that
communication between it and the other four great scientific
complexes is not prevented from any one side. Communi
cation, avenues of approach, and points of union extend to
all sides. This, however, does not imply that there are no
boundaries between theology and the other four coordinates;
but as in every other non-mechanical domain, these boun
daries here must be measured from the centrum, and not in
the periphery. When a centre and the length of a ray are
given, the boundary is fixed for the entire surrounding, even
though this is not entirely marked out and thus is not dis
cernible outwardly.

This centre here is the revealed ectypal self-knowledge of
God. Since, however, it is the revealed and ectypal self-
knowledge of God, it is not limited to abstract knowledge of
God, taken as an isolated object of thought. The fact that it
is ectypal expresses, indeed, a relation of this self-knowledge
to man, and that it is revealed assumes logically a dealing
with the data, condition and means in which and by which
this revelation takes place. The knowledge which God has
of Himself includes also the knowiedge of His counsel, work
and will, and the relation in which He has placed man to
Himself, outside of as well as under sin. Since this ectypal
knowledge of God is revealed, not in the abstract sense to
satisfy our desire for knowledge, but very concretely, as one
of the means by which this all-excelling work of re-creation
is accomplished, a process is effected by this ectypal knowl
edge of God, namely the Christian Church, by which, even
as a tree by its fruit, this knowledge of God is more par
ticularly known. And so far as in this way the light of

606 § 05. THE BOUNDARY OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

this ectypal knowledge of God shines out, and its working is
observable, the boundaries of theology extend, or what was
called its " compass," including, of course, what we must do
in order, in our time also, to let the working of the knowledge
of God have free course. As soon, however, as the influence
which has been exerted by this knowledge of God outside
the sphere created by itself is considered, theology provides
contributions (Lehnsatze) for other sciences, but operates it
self no longer. Then it concerns the application of its results
to other objects, and no longer the product of what is to be
applied. As the theologian applies results furnished by logic,
but is thereby no creator of logic himself, so the jurist, philol
ogist, medicus and naturalist must deal with the results of
theology without themselves beincf thereby theologians.

o*/ C? t/ O

So far, on the other hand, as the jurist, the medicus, etc.,
finds data in revelation which bear not on the way of the
knowledge of God, but immediately on his department, he
must determine for himself what influence one and another
shall exert upon his own investigation. Now we speak of
course of the jurist, the philologist, etc., as he should be,
i.e. as standing within the pale of palingenesis, and as a
Christian bending his knee before the majesty of the Lord
and of His Revelation ; not being limited by Revelation, but
enriched and enlarged by it, seeing what otherwise he would
not see, knowing what otherwise would be hidden from
him. We do not advocate, therefore, a certain subserviency
of the other sciences to theology as the queen of sciences.
There can never be a question of such a relation of mis
tress and servant, in a scientific sense, among the sciences.
He who investigates may render no obedience to any but
the irresistible impulse of his own conviction. Even where
material (Lehnsatze) is borrowed by other sciences from
theology, it occurs by no other authority than that by
which theology in turn borrows material from other sci
ences, i.e. under the conviction that by similar investiga
tions one would reach like results. The conflicts which arise
from this are therefore no conflicts between theology and
the other sciences, but conflicts which the jurist, the physi-

CHAP. IV] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE 607

cist, medicus, and philologist faces, each in his own domain,
in the same way in which the theologian faces these in his.
All these conflicts arise from the fact that re-creation has be
gun, indeed, potentially, but can be completed with the parou-
sia alone. If re-creation were completed now, every conflict
of this nature would be inconceivable. Since now it is not
finished, either in ourselves or in the cosmos, of necessity
we have to deal with natural and supernatural data. Both
these reflect themselves in our consciousness, and this gives
rise to the conflict in our consciousness ; which conflict is
ended only in so far as we succeed in tracing the real con
nection between these two series of data. And this is by no
means accomplished by ignoring any data that present them
selves to us, from both series, or from either of the two.
This might give us an ostrich wisdom but no human science.
In no particular should the naturalist, for instance, be im
peded. With the aid of all possible means at his command,
he must prosecute his observations, and formulate what he
has observed. If, on the other hand, he undertakes to con
struct a system from his discoveries, or commits himself
to hypotheses by which to interpret his observations, the
leaving out of account of the factor of Revelation is equiva
lent to the work of one who, in the biography of his hero,
ignores his correspondence or autobiography. Whatever ap
plies, therefore, to the origin and end of things cannot be
determined by the laws he has discovered, since every law,
when carried logically to its extreme in this matter of origin
and end, leads ad absurdum, and involves us in antinomies
that cannot be solved. If a law is to apply to a kingdom,
it is assumed that this kingdom has being. Neither is he
able, with his discovered law, to react against the possibility
of re-creation. Since he knows, while he himself is affected
by palingenesis, that (in order to realize the re-creation) a
higher law in God is bound to modify the operation of the
law which dominates the natural life. If he does not ac
knowledge this, he denies in principle the very possibility
of re-creation, is without the photismos, and is unable to draw
any conclusion. If, on the other hand, standing himself at

60S § !>5. TIIK HOUNDAUY OF TIIKOLOG)' [Div. Ill

the view-point of palingenesis, he prosecutes his studies,
nothing binds him but his own conviction, and he must
try to overcome, if possible, the conflicts that are sure to
present themselves. In this, however, he will not always
succeed, because the Avant of the necessary data renders this
impossible. And neither can the claim be made that the solu
tion found by him shall be at once accepted by every one
else. Even in the scientific circles of Law, History and Phi
losophy, which do not reckon with palingenesis, differences
of tendency and insight prevail, from which definite schools
form themselves, which arise only presently to go down
again. All this is but owing to the limitation of our power
to know, to the paucity of data at our command, and to the
usual impossibility of verification. The slow progress made
in this direction is chiefly to be attributed to the fact that
theologians have studied the above-mentioned conflicts almost
exclusively, and that the Christians who have devoted them
selves to these studies have for the most part been dualisti-
cally constituted, being heathen with the head and Christian
at heart. And real advances will be made only when men
who are themselves heart and soul alive to the efficacy of
regeneration, at the same time devote all their powers of
thought to these natural and historical studies, and so face
these very conflicts.

The theologian also is familiar with these conflicts in
his domain, occasioned by the incongruity which so often
appears between natural and revealed theology. The theo
logian r.lso is concerned with re-creation, and in the very
idea of re-creation lies the antithesis between that which is
to undergo the re-creative act and that which is established
as outcome of that act. Hence there is always a duality:
(1 ) the old data, which are present in what shall be regen
erated, and f'2) the new data, which shall constitute the
regeneration. The Scripture, therefore, does not hesitate
to speak of the "old man" and of the "new man" (Col.
iii. 10). by which to indicate what present data must be
removed (aTTeK&ixracrdai), and what data, brought in from
without, must appear (ev&va-aaOai). By that which must

CHAP. IV] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE 609

be removed, we are by no means to understand the structure
of our human personality ; this, indeed, must remain, since
otherwise there would be a new creation and no regenera
tion. What is meant is simply that which in that structure
has been deformed by sin and has become a sinful habit. Con
sequently, revealed theology distinguishes in man between
what is his human structure, in order that it may attach it
self to this, and all sinful deformity, in order to exclude it.
And since natural theology does not belong to what consti
tutes the " old man," but on the contrary to the psychical
structure of our human essence, revealed theology does by no
means exclude this natural theology, but rather postulates it,
assumes it, and joins itself to it. For this reason it was so
absurd in the last century to place this natural theology as a
second principium of Divine knowledge by the side of the
Holy Scripture, and so really to furnish two theologies : first,
a brief and vague knowledge of God from natural theology,
and after that a broad and sharply outlined knowledge of God
from Revelation. For sinful man, as he is able in his psychical
structure from himself, in connection with his observation of
the cosmos, to obtain this natural theology (Rom. i. 19, 20), is
the person in all dogma toward whom Revelation directs it
self, to whom it is disposed, and whom it takes thus and not
otherwise. Hence our older theologians were much nearer
the truth when the}r applied the clear distinctions between
man in his original creation, fallen, and restored, to almost
every dogma, provided it is carefully kept in view that they
did not delineate fallen man to whom the revelation was
made after life, but took their copy from the image offered
of him by the Scripture. Neither did they do this in order
to lose themselves in abstraction, which has nothing in com
mon with life, but to obtain certainty that the}r did not
fall into error in their view of fallen man. If they had
gone to work empirically, and had sought from life itself to
estimate what sort of a person fallen man might be, all cer
tainty of starting-point would have been wanting ; which is
seen sufficiently clearly from the several sorts of theories
that have been framed concerning it. On the contrary, they

610 § 95. THE BOUNDARY OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

allowed the Word of God itself to furnish them this image,
and now they knew that they had solid ground under their
feet. Sinful man was devoid of an adequate self-knowledge,
and by the light of the Word of God alone does he recognize
his true appearance. Not as if henceforth he was to take no
further account of his essential existence, but because in this
way only did he come to know what his essential existence is.
Natural Theology, therefore, is not added to the Scripture as
a second something, but is taken up in the Scripture itself,
and by the light of the Scripture alone appears in connection
with the reality of our life. Hence natural theology cannot
be explained in dogmatics, except under the category of man
in his original righteousness and man in his fall. Every
other mode of treatment leads either to rationalism, by pla
cing reason alongside of the Scripture as a second principium,
or to mysticism, by assigning the same place to the life of the
emotions, in order presently, by logical sequence, to push the
Scriptural principium to one side and to destroy it. But if this
ends the conflict for the theologian, both formally and with re
spect to principle, the fact is not taken away that the antithe
sis is bound to reappear between fallen man, who is to be re
created, and restored man, who is to be looked upon as the fruit
of this re-creation. This would not be so if this re-creation
were completed in one moment. But it is unavoidable, since
it requires sometimes a very long process by which to bring
out potential re-creation to actual completion. Hence in the
doctrines of the Covenant, of Baptism, of the Church, of
Sanctification and in Ethics this conflict reappears again and
again, and to this day theology struggles to overcome the
conflict, theoretically in her formulation of the things to be
believed (credenda), and practically in her teaching of the
things to be done (agenda).

This conflict, therefore, exists not merely between theol
ogy and natural science, etc., but extends across the entire
domain of human knowledge and presents itself to the Chris
tian thinker in every department. The reason is plain. Since
sin denaturalized the entire cosmic life in and about man,
re-creation comes in to restore the entire cosmos, as far as it

CHAP. IV] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE 611

stands related to man. It is one of the demands of truth,
therefore, that both factors of this conflict shall be exhibited
as they are. By placing a board covered with flowers across
an abyss, the abyss is not filled in. There is no need, how
ever, that the conflict shall be overestimated. If, for instance,
the naturalist observes that the deposit of the Nile increases
annually so many millimetres, and that it is so many metres
high, his conclusion is indisputable, that, if this deposit has
been constant, the height of 12.47 metres now reached would
have required a much longer period of time than is known
to our era. But he is not able to prove that the deposit has
been constant. The required observation lies outside the
empiric domain to which he must limit his judgment. This
is not cited for the sake of proving the fact that our earth has
not existed longer than six thousand years. With reference
to this fact Scriptural teaching is by no means exegetically
sure. But for the sake of showing in a concrete instance
what we understand by an unlawful extension of the conflict.
Meanwhile, the relation between Theology and Philosophy
deserves separate mention, since the boundary which sepa
rates these two sciences is frequently crossed from both sides.
This requires a closer analysis of the idea of philosophy.
Philosophy embraces two things : on the one hand, the inves
tigation into man's psychical existence, and, on the other hand,
the effort to put together concentrically the entire content
of the scientific consciousness in organic connection, and to
explain it. Man's psychic existence leads, in turn, to a
separate investigation (1) into his psyche (^^77) as such
(psychology), and (2) into the ethical, sesthetical and logical
qualities of this psyche (ethics, aesthetics and logic). And
finally, Logic, in a broader sense, includes the investigation
into the consciousness as such, into the laws which govern
our thought, and into the ways which lead to knowledge
(Principienlehre, Logica und ErkenntnisstJieorie^). The sec
ond task of Philosophy is of an entirely different kind ; it is
not directed to the conscious and thinking man, but it is the
effort of the thinking man himself to reflect the cosmos,
which presents itself to him as existing organically, as an

612 § 1*5. THE BOUNDARY OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

organic whole in the mirror of his consciousness. Atiuallv,
therefore, two sciences are embraced in Philosophy which
evermore separate. Efforts have even been made to give an
independent position to the study of thinking man, under the
name of "Logic" (taken in a broader sense than now). This
plan will probably produce the farther effect of having Psy
chology appear on a ground of its own, with its quality-doc
trine in ethics and aesthetics. This will make Logic consist of
the science of thinking man, or, if you please, it will make the
Logos in man to be the object of investigation, and Philoso
phy, in the narrower sense, will be the science which collects
the results of all the other sciences concentrically under a
higher unity. Thus wre may have Lor/ic as the science of
thinking (cogitare), and Philosophy as the science of bein</
(esse). Meanwhile, no objection can be raised against class
ing, as yet, this entire complex of sciences under the common
name of the philosophical sciences, provided in the discussion
of the relations between theology and these sciences, the indi
cated distinction is kept in view, and we no longer speak of
the philosophy. As for Logic, the saying that it is an aux
iliary to the theologian reduces it by no means to the rank of a
handmaid of theology. It renders this service equally to all
the other sciences. As far as Logic is concerned, this entire
representation of the handmaid (ancilla) was simply a matter
of custom. It is, indeed, a patent fact, that in every science
man is the thinking agent, and if he shall undertake intel
lectual pursuits in an accurate and prepared way, and in the
full consciousness of self, the knowledge and practice of the
faculty of thought are indispensable to him. A theologian
who undervalues Logic, as being little necessary to him,
simply disarms himself. This was by no means the practice
of our older theologians. They always emphasized most
strongly the study of formal logic, together with its related
arts (re^rai). By saying this, we do not imply that in this
field, also, no conflicts may present themselves. These are
excluded so long as one confines himself to logic in the
narrower sense, but are bound to come up as soon as "die
Principien der Erkenntniss," together with the method by

CHAP. IV] IN THE ORGANISM OF SCIENCE (Jlo

which to attain to knowledge, or included under Logic. This
appears all too painfully, indeed, from the serious effort of
naturalism to apply its method to the spiritual sciences. No
doubt, this conflict is least of all a conflict between theol
ogy and philosophy, but one born from the differing dispo
sitions of the thinker. If his ideal life is high, he cannot
reach the same conclusions as another person, whose mind
and tendency confine themselves entirely to the things seen
(opara). In the same way, if by regeneration thinking man
stands in vital communion with the kingdom of God, he must
see differently, and consequently judge differently, from the
one who stands outside of it. The same applies to psychology
and ethics. A Christian philosopher knows his own soul
(^X7?) an(i views the ethical life differently from the phi
losopher who stands outside of regeneration. The antithesis,
therefore, does not consist in the fact that theology offers a
Christian ethics and philosophy a neutral one. The Christian
philosopher cannot do otherwise than live Christian ethics,
and what theology gives is not a Christian, but a theological
ethics, which will be more fully explained in the discussion of
the separate departments.

The real conflict, however, between theology and philoso
phy begins, when philosophy is taken in the narrower sense,
as the science that investigates the principles of being, and
in virtue of these principles seeks to furnish, from all the
results of the other sciences, a concentric-organic life- and
world-view. Then we should be on our guard, lest theology
degenerate into philosophy, and philosophy capture for itself
the place of theology. This has already happened ; which
fact explains itself from the circumstance, that philosophers
for the most part have not reckoned with regeneration, and
that theologians frequently have deemed themselves able to
get along without philosophy. From the first it followed,
that besides a psychology, an ethics, an aesthetics and a logic,
philosophers also tried to furnish a doctrine of G-od, and from
the imperfectly interpreted data of the inborn and the ac
quired knowledge of God, sought to construct a theology,
independently of the revealed knowledge of God. Thus they

G14 § 95. BOUNDARY OF THEOLOGY IN SCIENCE [Div. Ill

set themselves in hostile array against theology, and in self-
defence were bent to oppose real theology, suppress it, and in
the end banish it from the arena. On the other hand, this
made theologians tend to view philosophy in the narrower
sense as a hostile phenomenon, and, since they had no real
Christian philosophy of their own, to make war against all
philosophy. Since, however, it is impossible to live even in
the Christian world without certain cosmological conceptions,
they attempted to supply this want in their dogmatics, and
thus it happened that they furnished not a simple theology
but a theology with a philosophical seasoning. To bring this
perverted relation to an end, it is necessary, on the one hand,
to recognize that philosophy has an entirely different task
to accomplish than theology, and, on the other hand, to dis
tinguish sharply between Christian and non-Christian phi
losophy.

Philosophy has an entirely different task. Theology has
no other calling than to take up the ectypal knowledge of
God, as it is known from its source the Holy Scripture, into
the consciousness of re-created humanity and to reproduce
it. Philosophy (now always taken in the narrower sense), on
the other hand, is called to construct the human knowledge,
which has been brought to light by all the other sciences, into
one architectonic whole, and to show how this building arises
from one basis. From this it follows, that the need of philos
ophy is a necessity (^avdy/cij^) which arises out of the impulse
of the human consciousness for unity, and is therefore of equal
importance to those who stand outside, as to those who are in
the regeneration. To say that a Christian is less in need of
philosophy is only the exhibition of spiritual sloth and lack
of understanding. The more the enlightening restores har
mony in our consciousness, the stronger must be the awak
ening of the impulse after an unitous (einheitlich) organic
knowledge. While, on the other hand, the richer the data at
our service, the better the hope of success in this. Philoso
phy which reckons only with natural data will always vibrate
between a pantheistic, deistic and materialistic interpretation,
and will never do more than form schools, while Christian

CHAP. IV] § 96. SELF-DETERMINATION OF THEOLOGY 615

philosophy, whose theistic point of departure is fixed, is able
to lead to unity of interpretation within the circle of regen
eration. But for this very reason theology will be able to go
hand in hand with a Christian philosophy. It is the task
of philosophy to arrange concentrically the results of all the
other sciences, and if non-Christian philosophy ignores the
results of theology, as though it were no science, theology
is in duty bound to enter her protest against this. If, on
the other hand, the philosopher himself is regenerate, and
is historically and ecclesiastically in union with the life of
palingenesis, then of course in his studies he includes the
results of theology, together with the results of all the
other sciences ; and it is his care, architectonically to raise
such a cosmological building that of themselves the results
of theology also find their place in it.

§ 96. Self-determination of the Organism of Theology

Theological Encyclopedia includes generally the question
of the relation of theology to the University. As the matter
actually stands in Europe, however, this question concerns
the relation of theology to the Government. If the universi
ties were free corporations, as formerly they were intended
to be, and as they are sometimes now (in Belgium, in the
Netherlands, America, England and in Switzerland), and as
they ought to be everywhere, this question would entirely
fall away ; for then this relation would merely be an item
of history. But this question is important because to this
day in most countries the most influential universities are
state institutions, founded, supported and governed by state
authorities. Thus the Government determines not merely
the number, rank and quality of the faculties ; but directs
also the organism of theology, as being on a par with the
other sciences, by its conditions for every chair, and by its
choice of departments, which it unites as a group under one
and the same chair. Even in former times this was not
right, since it can never be derived from the attributes of
the Government, that it shall determine the organism of
theology. But this raised no preponderating difficulty, inas-

616 §W. SKLF-DETKKMINATION OF THEOLOGY [Div. Ill

much as in those times the Government made free-will abdica
tion of every discretionary right, and simply followed custom.
Such, however, is not the case now. In Holland indeed it
has reached such a point that the Law for Higher Education
(of April 28, 1876, Stbl. n. 102), Art. 42, prescribes a tenfold
division of the theological departments, which is entirely an
tagonistic to the nature and character of theology ; even to
such an extent that dogmatics, which is the heart of all the
ology, is simply cut out from the body of theology. ! It can
scarcely be denied that this is a violent attack upon the
organism of theology. In view of facts such as these, we
maintain the right of theology to determine its own organ
ism. No Government can do this, since this is not its prov
ince ; neither does it possess the data for it. Neither is it
authorized to do this, since playing the r61e of dilettante
and abusing its power it creates confusion in theology. It
is evident that the division of departments and of chairs of
itself exerts an influence upon the entire course of studies,
upon the association of studies even in the case of the ablest
theologians, and darkens insight into the true essence of The
ology. Such an interference on the part of the Government
is an attack upon the liberty of science, while in Theology,
moreover, it amounts to the choice of a confessional party ;
in casu of the modern interpretation of Theology as "the
science of religion " instead of " the science of the revealed
knowledge of God," which it has always been, in keeping
with its origin and principle.

A mo as ure of influence can more properly be accorded
to the Church, in so far as the Church may dictate what
studies are indispensable to the expression of her life, both
with reference to the education of her ministers and to the
defence of her faith ; in fact, this influence is exerted by the
Church in the conditions assigned by her for ecclesiastical
examinations. No university can permanently neglect in its

1 These departments are : (a) encyclopedia, (7>) history of the doctrine
of God, (r) history of religions, (<J) history of Israel's religion, (>) history
of Christendom, (/) Israelitish and old Christian literature, (cj) Old and
New Testament exegesis, (A) history of Christian dogma, (i ) philosophy
of religion, (k) ethics.

CHAP. IV] § 97. ARTICULATION OF PROPAEDEUTICS 617

theological faculty the departments needed for these exami
nations. But so far as Theology stands in vital connection
with the Church this tie is a natural one ; beyond this it
ceases to exist. Hence even ecclesiastical influence should
extend no further. The Church states her need, but the
question in what way, in what order, and in what connec
tion this need must be met is encyclopedic and pedagogic.
That which exists mechanically can be taken apart and recon
structed differently at will, but this is not possible with organic
life. That which lives organically obeys, in its organic devel
opment, an inner law of life. It is as it is because it sprang
from its germ thus and not otherwise, and because it can
assume no proportions except those which it possesses by
nature. By violently attacking the life of an organism, you
can occasion anaesthesia or hyperaesthesia, atrophy or hyper
trophy, of one of the organs, but this does not modify the
nature of the organism. That remains the same as before.
Concerning the organism of theology, therefore, we cannot
but think that all interference on the part of the Government
should be most firmly resisted ; that the Church both may and
must exert an influence by the appointment of those studies
which she deems necessary for the maintenance of her life,
provided she does not presume to determine in what way her
requirement shall be met; and that therefore the construc
tion of the body of theology can be determined by itself alone
as it unfolds its organic existence. This does not deny that
this organic articulation (Gliederung) is formulated by our
thinking. But if this task is properly performed, it consists
of the simple statement of what kind of organic life we have
discovered in the organism of theology.

§ 97. Organic Articulation of Propaedeutics

The discussion of propaedeutics, as such, is really in place
in a ratio studiorum, and not in Encyclopedia proper. And
yet Encyclopedia cannot afford to pass the propaedeutic stud
ies by in silence. For these studies are not accidental, neither
are they chosen arbitrarily, but are indicated of themselves
in the organic ties that bind theology to the other parts of the

618 § D7. ORGANIC ARTICULATION [Div. Ill

organism of science. Being itself a department of ideal
science, theology naturally demands such a general devel
opment as is indispensable to all ideal sciences. In the
conflict waged as to the precedence of humanistic and natu
ralistic studies in preparatory schools, the humanistic must
be preferred for theological propaedeutics. But it is a mistake
to make it appear that the humanistic training, indicated as
such historically, is sufficient for the theologian. In the main,
if not exclusively, humanistic propaedeutics directed them
selves to the beautiful form, and were but little impressed
with the importance of philosophy and history. Ancient
philosophy was taught, and Greek and Roman history, to
gether with their proper antiquities, but rather as a means
for the understanding of the classics than as a proper factor
for the forming of the mind. And this is not tolerated by
the position of theology in the organism of science. To be
sure, theology does not allow neglect of beauty of form.
The finer form alone lends to the mind that sensitive discern
ment which is indispensable to all ideal science, and which
in its reproduction is not to be discarded. But with this
formal scholarship theology is not satisfied. The too exces
sive admiration of the world of old Hellas is rather an im
pediment in the way to the deeper study of her principles.
To her the old classic world is simply a link in that great
process of development that extends to the present time.
Hence she demands a propaedeutic which embraces the entire
course of philosophy and history down to our times, and
which from first to last is subject to the criticism of Chris
tian principles. For which reason this propaedeutic cannot
be ended in the preparatory school, but must reach its com
pletion in academic propo?deutics. Even in itself the limi
tation of propaedeutics to the gymnasia cannot be approved.
since for every truly scientific study a scientific introduction
into the scientific treatment of it is indispensable; and this
the gymnasium can never give. Theology, moreover, must
be able to make use of a critical knowledge of human thought
and act (philosophy and history) as its background, such as
cannot be taught in the preparatory school. This implies at

CHAP. IV] OF PROPAEDEUTICS 619

the same time that propaedeutics cannot stand on any other
foundation than the study of theology itself. Propaedeutica
in the pagan sense, standing outside of palingenesis, denies
the organic connection between theology and other studies,
and does not prepare for, but leads one away from, theology.
Hence the character of preparatory as well as of academic
propaedeutics ought to be distinctively Christian; which de
mand is not met by the addition of religious instruction (a
Religionsstunde) to pagan propaedeutics. It demands that
the entire preparation itself, both formal and material, shall
keep close reckoning with the principles of a Christian life-
and world-view. He who is himself a partaker of palingene
sis, and who consequently pays homage to the Cross of
Golgotha as the centre of the development of human his
tory, has an entirely different outlook upon the propaedeutic
departments from him who as a humanist boasts of a credat
ludaeus Appdla. And the demand for a proper propaedeu
tics of theology is only met when the organic relation between
the propaedeutical studies and the study of theology in the
narrower sense is given full scope to assert itself. Indeed, if
closely considered, the name of propaedeutics is not very hap
pily chosen. The theologian does not pass on to theological
studies, in order henceforth to ignore all other sciences, but,
proportionately to the rate of his progress, he finds himself con
stantly bound to trace the organic connection between his
own and still other studies. Such as, for instance, in the
historic and ethnologic studies of the religious differences
of non-Christian nations. His own studies are not isolated at
a single point, and it only weakens the position of theology
to prosecute her studies as though she stood alone. More
over, later study must be continued with a definite end in
view, in those departments which at first seemed as pro
paedeutics only. Every student of Church History is aware
of this with reference to the knowledge of history ; the same
applies to Philosophy, even Psychology, Philosophical Ethics,
and ^Esthetics.

Of course this applies to the scientific theologian only, and
not to every Minister of the Word. Other demands apply

620 § 97. ORGANIC1 ARTICULATION [I)IV. Ill

to his education, which are made not by the position of
theology in the organism of the sciences, but by the con
ditions with which his office brings him in touch, and which
therefore cannot be mentioned here. Only think of what
is advocated from many sides about the knowledge of medi
cine, of agriculture, of common law, of social conditions, of
the school question, etc., as being of service to the local
pastor. Questions with which, from the nature of the case,
Encyclopedia cannot be concerned, since they have nothing
to do with the nature of theology and its organic relations.
But the more formal propaedeutics deserve, certainly, a brief
mention, especially the study of the languages, a matter which
is not ended with the study of the two fundamental lan
guages of the Scripture, the Hebrew and the Greek. For then
even Latin might safely be omitted. It should rather be
insisted upon that the languages be first studied from the
general linguistic point of view, and then the question is in
order, what are the special languages the knowledge of which
is indispensable to the study of theology. Without a clear,
general linguistic conception of language, one cannot truly
enter into the knowledge of any one language. The phe
nomenon of language as such is organically connected with
theology in its principium, and therefore all sound theology
presupposes an historic and critical insight into linguistics,
graphistics and the philosophy of grammar. Xot, of course,
as though we should begin with this. It is indeed the claim
of pedagogics to supply the copift doctrinac during those years
in which the memory is most plastic ; but in this review,
which does not consider the course of studies, but the or
ganic position of theology in the organism of science, the
knowledge of language in general comes first. With respect
to individual languages in particular, the mother-tongue fol
lows organically first upon linguistics, because in this alone
our immediate consciousness feels the pulse-beat of the life of
language : and the other modern languages have little con
nection with theology, except in so far as they give us access
to the products of theologic toil in other lands. Strictly
taken, translation might do away with this necessity; since,

CHAP. IV] OF PROPAEDEUTICS 621

however, the indiscriminate translation of all detail-study is
impossible, theological study is simply inconceivable without
the knowledge of modern languages.

The question arises next, whether Latin must be main
tained under this title only in theologic propeedeutics. There
is certainly no difference of opinion about the necessity to
the theologian of the knowledge of Latin. For more than
twelve centuries the Christian Church documented her life
of thought in almost no language but the Latin. He who
is no ready reader of Latin finds himself cut off from the
historical life of the Church. It is a different matter, how
ever, whether theology as such is interested in the study
of Latin as a means to general training; something which
is continually being contested, but which, it appears to us,
cannot be abandoned. For this we state two reasons. First,
because Latin as a language is classic in its clearness, con
ciseness and beauty, by which it puts a stamp upon our
thinking, such as no other language can do, not even Greek
excepted, however much richer it may be. In " common
grace " the Latin language occupies a place of its own,
and he who neglects her claim impoverishes the forming
of the mind. And in the second place, the development
of Western thought has acquired a characteristic of its own,
first under the influence of ecclesiastical, and after that of
humanistic Latin, which is plainly apparent in the forma
tion of many words and in syntax. Entirely apart from the
question whether this characteristic should be preserved or
abandoned, it follows from this, that a real grasp upon the
world of our Western thought is simply impossible without
the knowledge of Latin. Upon this ground we desire to see
the study of Latin upheld, while we urge, at the same time,
that this study shall not be limited to classical Latin. Latin
is also the language of the Western Fathers, the Scholastics,
Reformers, and later theologians ; but their Latin bears
another character, uses other words, follows a different con
struction, and speaks in new terms. He who understands
Cicero cannot for that reason understand Augustine. Virgil's
Aeneid is no help to understand Thomas's Summa. Horace

622 § 97. ORGANIC ARTICULATION [Div. Ill

is of little help in the reading of Calvin or Voetius. Hence
the organic connection demands that the study of Latin shall
not limit itself to the golden age of the classics, but that it
shall follow the historical process in the language which,
though nationally dead, is still alive in use. The importance
of this does not appear to those to whom theology is a mere
Science of Religion ; but he who would study theology in
the real sense of the word, and thus continue the task
begun by our older theologians, must begin by understand
ing them.

A like observation applies in part to Greek, which is
organically related to theology in three ways : First, as the
language of old Hellas ; secondly, as the language of the
LXX, of Flavius Josephus, etc., and New Testament; and
thirdly, as the language of the Eastern Fathers, taken
in their widest sense. As a starting-point, therefore, the
knowledge of classic Greek is a necessity ; then comes the
knowledge of later Greek (/coi^), and more especially of
the Syrian and Alexandrian, which come nearest to the lan
guage of the New Testament. Then follows the language
of the New Testament itself, and finally that peculiar
development attained by Greek in the Byzantine Chris
tian world. They who pass on from Demosthenes to the
New Testament, as is the case with many in our times, with
out ever having a glimpse of one of the Eastern Fathers in
the original, fall short in historic knowledge of Greek. Since
the gymnasium is intended for young men of other faculties
as well, and is, therefore, not able to give a sufficiently broad
introduction into this historical knowledge of the Greek
language, academic propaedeutics ought to be directed to this
with an eye to theology, more than it has thus far been.

Hebrew and Chaldee occupy a somewhat different position.
As a language, the Arabic is linguistically rightly esteemed
much more highly than Hebrew; both because of its riches
of forms and of the mighty world of thought to which it
affords an entrance. Hebrew lies altogether outside the
circle of higher culture. If it is of great importance to every
literator to be familiar with at least one language of the

CHAP. IV] OF PROPAEDEUTICS 623

Semitic trunk, and though Hebrew offers special advantages
for this, by the simplicity of its forms as well as on account
of its significance to the most potent monument of our
higher civilization, it will, nevertheless, probably be the rule,
that theologians almost exclusively will apply themselves to
Hebrew, not as a linguistic phenomenon, but as an auxiliary
to the right understanding of the Old Testament. At the
gymnasium it is generally a secondary matter, falling out
side the lines of a general training ; and at the academy few
are willing to train the memory to any great extent. Yet
it is an imperative necessity that an improvement shall be
made in this direction. In our pulpits the fundamental texts
of the Old Testament are spoken of by men who are not
able to translate the simplest passage at sight, much less to
retranslate into Hebrew. And in this condition of things the
study of Hebrew is but a waste of time.

In this connection, however, this question cannot be treated
more fully. Only under the heads of general training and
of special studies can Encyclopedia indicate to what other
studies and languages theology stands organically related.
And it is clearly seen that especially in the study of lan
guages, entirely different claims are made, both by the
schedule of the general scientific training and by custom,
from what theology must demand of these languages within
her pale. The very propaedeutics for Theology demand
such natural talents and persevering application to study,
that the false notion must be abandoned that all those who
are educated for the practical ministry of the Word, can
be theologians in the real sense of the word. With the
majority, the needed requirements for this are altogether
lacking. The effort to have so high an aim realized by all
would not develop, but stultify, many persons. Hence the
old difference between pastors and doctors must be main
tained. Pastors should be sufficiently advanced to be able
to take their stand intelligently at the scientific view-point,
and to follow scientific development ; but apart from the
study of theology as a side issue or as a favorite recrea
tion, the profounder study of theology as a science will

t'>24 § 98. ORGANIC ARTICULATION [Div. Ill

ever of necessity be the task of the few, who have extraor
dinary powers of mind at their disposal, as well as the neces
sary time and means.

§ 98. Organic Articulation to Spiritual Reality

Science is no abstraction. It is the reflection of life in
our consciousness, and therefore it sustains the same or
ganic relation to reality as the shadow to the body by which
it is cast. A single word, therefore, is needed to show the
organic articulation of theology to spiritual reality. Thus
far this has been suggested in a subjective sense, by the asser
tion that the mysticism of the Spirit is indispensable to the
theologian. But from the nature of the case it is evident
that for this subjective necessity there must be an objective
ground. If the treatment of the subjective demands required
at the hand of the theologian belongs to Hodegetics rather
than to Encyclopedia, Encyclopedia nevertheless is bound to
indicate the relation of this science to its own reality, from
which the necessity of these demands is born. If in real life
there were no antithesis between the domain of palingenesis
and what lies outside, there would be no special Revelation,
and in simple consequence there would be no question of
theology other than in the style of Cicero. In like manner,
if there were no operative grace, which effects enlightenment,
articulation of the science to this spiritual reality would be
altogether wanting. " The natural man receiveth not the
things of the spirit of God." Now, however, the influence
of this reality operates upon theology in a threefold way:
First, materially, by the provision of matter which it brings
to theology ; secondly, by the influence of the Church, so
far as that Church propels its confession as a living witness ;
and thirdly, in the theologian personally, inasmuch as his
own spiritual experience must enable him to perceive and
understand what treasures are here at stake. Coordinated
under one head, one might say that the Holy Spirit guaran
tees this organic articulation through the agencies of the
Holy Scripture, the Church, and the personal enlighten
ment of the theologian. Hence piety of motive is not

CHAF. IV] TO SPIRITUAL REALITY 625

enough. Piety is often present with the Buddhist also and
the Parsee. But the piety referred to here must bear a
stamp of its own, and cannot be identical with that pious
impulse which operates also in fallen man, either poetically,
heroically, or sentimentally. But it is very definitely that
piety worked by God, which is possible only when a new life
has been implanted in the sinner, and in which new life has
dawned a higher light. In the second place, this piety
should not remain isolated, but must manifest itself in the
communion of saints ; not merely arbitrarily, but organically,
hence in union with the Church, which affords a bed to the
stream of the ages. And finally, in the third place, in its
rise from the root of regeneration and in its union with the
Church, this piety should not remain a mere mystical senti
ment, but, for the sake of affecting theology, it must inter
pret being into thought, in order presently from thought to
return to being by the ethical deed.

Where this articulation, in the sense mentioned, is organi
cally present, so far as it concerns the articulation to reality,
the position of theology in the organism of science is what it
should be. Without this connection the theologian becomes as
one who looks out upon nature through eyes half blind, as one
almost deaf who studies acoustics, or as one devoid of all finer
taste who devotes himself to aesthetics; the simple result of
which is that neither nature, acoustics, nor sesthetics receive
their dues. History indeed teaches that where this articula
tion to spiritual realit}r is wanting, rationalism at once lifts up
its head to attack theology in its very heart ; or, where this
articulation is imperfect, sentiment is bound to prevail, and
theology disappears in mysticism or pietism. For this reason
the theologians of the best period of the Reformation ever
insisted strenuously and convincingly upon the linking to
gether of theology to the Word, to the Church, and to per
sonal enlightenment ; for in these three factors together is
found the guidance of the Holy Spirit, without which no
theology can nourish. The proper relation of these three
factors has been considered at sufficient length above. Here
it is merely observed that our theologians of the Reformation

620 §'.'8. ARTICULATION TO SPIRITUAL REALITY [Div. Ill

period were embarrassed by the removal of theology from the
seminary to the university. It was apparent in Paris, Lou-
vain, and elsewhere, that the university life brought with it
far more diversion and temptation than the secluded life at
the seminaries. Now the Reformation in principle abandoned
the seminary, and from principle gave theology its place in the
university, and it became necessary to insist more strenuously
upon piety and asceticism of life in the future theologians.
The piety at the seminary was too much like a hot-house
atmosphere, and results showed how little these hot-house
plants amounted to the moment they became exposed to the
less favorable atmosphere of common life. In view of this
also they gave their preference to the freer university life.
A piety, which there maintained itself and kept its virtue,
was much better acclimatized to life in the world. At times
they expressed the desire that the academy life should be suc
ceeded by at least one year of seclusion from the world in a
more quiet seminary. But this was merely a corrective and a
palliative, and their chief strength lay in exhortation, in moral
pressure, in the power of the Word, to exhibit ever more
clearly the folly and the contradiction of the study of theol
ogy without the corresponding fear of the Lord, trembling at
His word, and communion with God in Christ. This implied
at the same time that these demands of Scriptural, ecclesiasti
cal and personal piety were not exacted from the student only,
but from every theologian after graduation from academy life.
Because it involved the articulation of theology to the spirit
ual reality, this claim could not be abandoned at a single point
of the whole way. Godliness alone is able to foster, feed and
maintain that holy sympathy for the object of theology which
is indispensable for success.

There is a difference here also between the studies which
touch the centrum of theology and those which lie on its
periphery. A point of detail in Church history touches the
spiritual reality at almost no single point, so that such a
study by itself is not able to stamp a man as a theologian.
But when theology is taken as an organic whole, and all its
subdivisions are viewed from this central interpretation, the

CHAP. IV] § 99. ORGANISM OF THEOLOGY IN ITS PARTS 627

demand made by our fathers may not for a moment be aban
doned. "Neither knoweth any man the Father, save the
Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal him."

§ 99. The Organism of Theology in its Parts

If theology lies organically wrought into the organism of
science, it must also have an organic existence of its own ;
which is simply according to the law that the organizing
principle governs the entire organism in its parts. This
brings us to the so-called division of the theological depart
ments ; an expression which is rightly subject to criticism, since
one does not divide an organism, but finds its organic parts
there and only needs to exhibit them. Hence there can be
no question of drawing up a catalogue of departments, and of
dividing these departments into certain classes, arbitrarily or
after a rule derived from practice. Whatever is a corpus,
and exists as a o-eo/ua, brings its own division with it. In the
second place, it must be carefully ascertained that one has
the real corpus in hand. If, with Schleiermacher, theology is
made to consist of a conglomerate of learned departments
which find their unity in "the guidance and direction of the
Church," the organism is lost, and there can be no more
question of an organic division. In fact, Schleiermacher has
really no division. In his opinion, theology as a whole has
become an historic phenomenon, which he classifies in the
historic group ; that which precedes it is no theology, but
philosophy, and that which follows, as practical parts, and
which Schleiermacher takes to be the chief end and aim, is too
poor and meagre to save the name of theology. Neither can
there be any question of theology with those who, though
they still call themselves theologians, actually furnish noth
ing but a science of religions, and from their point of view
are bound to follow more or less the division of Noack, who
placed phenomenology as first in order, then ideology, and
finally the pragmatology of religion. But Encyclopedia of
Theology can have nothing in common either with Schleier-
macher's conglomerate or with the science of religion. Its
object of investigation is the body of Theology (corpus the-

§09. THE ORGANISM OF [Div. Ill

ologiae), taken as an organic subdivision of the organism of
science ; and this alone we are to consider.

Taken in this sense, there is no essential difference of opin
ion concerning the division of the theological departments.
It is held, almost universally, that a first group centres itself
about the Holy Scripture, a second group has Church his
tory for its centre, a third group has Christian doctrine
for its object, and Homiletics, together with what belongs
to it, forms the fourth group. This fourth group may be
called one thing by some, another by others ; some may differ
concerning the order to be observed ; the classification of cer
tain departments belonging to each of these four groups may
vary ; but this does not cancel the fact that a certain com
mon opinion indicates ever more definitely these four groups,
as proceeding of themselves from the organic disposition of
theology. The only divergence from this of any importance
that presents itself is, that a division into three groups
still appeals to a few, which end is reached by uniting with
Francke the so-called practical theology with systematic, or
like Bertholdt the historic with the dogmatic, or like Kienlen
the exegetical with the historical departments. But this
difference need not detain us, since it merely involves a ques
tion of coordination or subordination. They who follow the
division of three always accept a division of one of the three
into two parts, so that actually they also acknowledge the
existence of four groups. In itself it cannot well be denied
that in the Holy Scripture, the Church, Christian doctrine,
and in the functions of office, four separate objects are given,
which compel a division into four principal groups. And the
reduction of these four into three groups is serious only
when, with Gottschick and others, the Bibliological group is
denied a place of its own from principle. For then the
principium of theology is assailed in its independence, and
theology itself undermined.

But by itself the assumption that there are four organic
groups in the body of Divinity ("corpus theologiae) is not
enough. To be scientifically established, these four groups
must of necessity proceed from a common principium of divi-

CIIAP. IV] THEOLOGY IX ITS PARTS 629

sion. Thus far, however, this principium of division has not
been allowed sufficiently to assert itself. This is to be attrib
uted to the fact that each of these four groups has been viewed
almost exclusively from the view-point of the subject, and no
notice has been taken of how they lie in the object and how they
are taken from the object itself. Hence the custom has become
almost universal to distinguish these four groups as exegetical,
historical, systematic and practical. But this custom is not
logical. Distinction can be made between the exegetical,
historical and systematic labors of the human mind, but
it will not do to add to these three the practical departments
as coordinate. The name of practical departments is not
derived from the labor of the human mind, but from the
purpose or object of these departments. For the sake of
consistency, therefore, we should speak of the exegetical,
historical, systematic and technical departments. Even with
this method of distinguishing the groups, Encyclopedia can
not be satisfied. For this also locates the principium of divi
sion in the subject. It is the human mind that lends itself
to the fourfold function of exegesis, of the study of history,
of constructing certain data systematically, and of technically
deriving from these certain theories. But just because the
human mind is the subject of all science, there is no proper
division of theology obtained thus at all, but simply a passport
which, mutatis mutandis, is applicable to every science ; and it
is well known how a similar scheme has been applied to almost
all the other faculties. But what is applicable to all sciences
can never disclose to us the proper organic character of
theology ; and he who derives his principium of division
exclusively from the subject, has no information to give con
cerning the organic existence of the organism of theology.
Better progress would have been made if the example of
Hyperius had been followed, which points to the Word, the
Church and dogmatics as being the constituent elements.
These, at least, are elements taken from the object and not
from the subject, and therefore dissect the organism of the
ology itself.

Even this, however, does not indicate the principium of divi-

630 § 99. THE ORGANISM OF [Div. Ill

sion which operates from the object. In the subjective division
the principium operates out of the human mind, which lends
itself to the four above-named functions. If, on the other
hand, the organic division is to arise from the analysis of the
object itself, then the principium of division must be derived
from the object. This objective principium of division must
be found in the principium of theology itself. In the devel
opment of its germ the plant of itself brings the organic
spread of branches and stem. If the Holy /Scripture is this
principium of theology, it is plain that those departments
should first be taken in hand which deal with the Hoi if Script
ure as such; then as a second group those departments
which trace the working of the Word of G-od in the life of
the Church ; then in a third group the departments should be
combined which reflect the content of the Scripture in our
consciousness; and finally a fourth group should arise from
those departments which answer the question, how the work
ing of the Word of God, subject to His ordinances, must be
maintained. Thus the division into four groups is the same,
but now it is taken from the object, after a principium of
division which lies in the object itself. The Word of God,
first as such, then in its ivorlcing, after that according to its
content, and finally in its propaganda. This is most accurately
repeated when one speaks, first, of a Bibliological, then of an
Ecclesiological, after that of a Dogmatological, and finally of a
Diaconiological group. In the Bible you have the Word in
itself; in the Church (JEcclesioC), you see the Word in oper
ation, objectified in the reality; in Doyma the content of
this Word reflects itself in the sanctified human conscious
ness ; and in the Diaconia, i.e. the office, the service of the
ministry is indicated, which must be fulfilled for the sake of
that Word.

It is not by accident that these groups thus indicated cor
respond to the common division of Exegetical, Historical,
Systematic and Practical Theology ; but is accounted for by
the fact that each of these four organic members of the body
of Divinity emphasizes a peculiar function of the human
mind. In the investigation of the Bible as such exegesis

CHAP. IV] THEOLOGY IN ITS PARTS 631

stands first and always will. In the investigation into the
Church the historiological activity of the mind is most fully
exercised. With Dogma, a systematizing function of the
human mind is a first requisite. And with the Diaconia you
enter upon the practical domain, and an insight is required
into technique. If meanwhile it is the organic plan of the
object which successively calls into action these several func
tions of the human mind, the real dividing virtue does not
go out from your subject, but from the object; hence the
division must be taken so as to correspond to the elements of
the object. The subjective division corresponds to this, but
must not be put in its place. Moreover, the correspondence
is only partial. All labor bestowed upon the Bible as such
is by no means exegetical. The historic-critical study of
the several books as such is not exegetical. Neither is
archaeology exegetical, etc. While, on the other hand, it
must be remarked that all exegetical labor is by no means
confined to the first group. The exegetical function of
our mind is equally engaged in the investigation of Sym
bolics, of the Fathers, and in consultation with the sources
of Church history. From this subjective point of view it
was entirely logical on the part of Professor Doedes of
Utrecht when he classified Symbolics under this first group.
With the more precise analysis of the subdivisions of each
group, as given in another volume, it will appear that the
objective division leads in more than one particular to a
modified division of the special departments. These, how
ever, will not detain us now, since this would occasion a
needless repetition. Here we simply inquire after the four
principal branches as they appear upon the tree of theology,
and we think that we have indicated them in the Biblio-
logical, Ecclesiological, Dogmatological and Diaconiological
groups ; just by these names and in this order.

The symmetry of these designations is justified by the
fact that it is the human logos each time which seeks an en
trance into each of the four elements of the object. With
each of the four groups it is ever the action of our logos
which makes the knowledge of the object to appear from the

032 §99. THE ORGANISM OF [Div. Ill

object. Then coordination of Bible, Church, Dogma and
Diaconia — - the last taken in the sense of office — is war
ranted by the fact that each of these four bears a supernatural
character: the Bible, because it is the fruit of inspiration;
the Church, because it is the fruit of regeneration; Dogma,
because it presents to us the result of the guidance of the
Holy Spirit in the consciousness of the Church ; and the
Diaconia, because the offices are appointed by Christ, and
as organs of the churchly organism each office derives its
authority exclusively from Christ, the King of the Church.
Another name than that of Diaconia for office would be
preferable, because " Diaconia " makes one think almost
exclusively of the Diaconate. But we have no choice.
Diaconia is the official name for office in the Christian
Church, clearly defined for us in the New Testament, For
office the Greeks used the expressions TO epyov, fj eV^e'\e<«,
17 ap^r), TJ \eiTOVpryta,) and for the office of judge TO SIKCI-
But no one of these expressions could here be used.
7! could not be used, because the churchly office differs
in principle from the magistratic office as a ministerial ser
vice ; and it would not do, since the expression archeological
departments would have occasioned a still greater misunder
standing. Aetrovpyia of itself would have been no undesir
able term, but the name of Liturgy is differently employed,
and would have caused more difficulty than "Diaconia/' lie-
cause of their indefiniteness the other terms could not be con
sidered at all. And thus it seemed by far the safest way to
maintain the constant use of Scripture and to adopt again
the New Testament expression for the churchly office, vi/..
Diaconia, notwithstanding the confusion a superficial view
of it may occasion. It must indeed be conceded that in
1 Tim. iii. 8, 12 and elsewhere, along with eVioTcoTro?, the word
SICIKOVOS appears as also indicative of a definite office : but when
the question is raised as to what word the New Testament
uses to indicate office without distinction of function, there
is no doubt but that Sia/covta is the expressly indicated term.
In Phil. ii. 17, 30 the word Xeirovpyia occurs, but not in an
official sense. In verse 17 Paul speaks of the sacrifice and

CHAP. IV] THEOLOGY IN ITS PARTS 633

service of your faith (dv^ta tca\ \eirovpyia rr/<; TrtWeco? i>iA<av),
which he was to accomplish by his martyrdom, a saying in
which it appears, from the additional word "sacrifice," that
he by no means refers to his apostolic office. And in the
30th verse he mentions a service (\eirovpyia), which he was
not to administer in his office to the Philippians, but which,
on the contrary, they were to administer to him. But wher
ever on the other hand the administration of a definite office
is mentioned in a technical sense, the word "diaconia" is
used and not \eiTovpyia. In 1 Tim. i. 12 Paul declares that
he is put into the ministry, i.e. into the diaconia, viz. into
his apostolic office. In 1 Cor. xii. 5 it is expressly stated
that there are diversities of ministrations (Suup&reis Siatco-
VLWV). In Eph. iv. 2 we are told that Christ "gave some,
apostles ; and some, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; and
some, pastors and teachers " ; and all these together are
called unto the work of ministering (etV epyov Siarcovias).
In this sense Paul speaks of himself constantly as a diaconos
of Jesus Christ. Hence we must dismiss the objection that
the name of diaconate is now indicative of but one of the
offices. The use of it by the New Testament is conclusive.
Neither was there an escape from the dilemma by the use of
the terms " economical " or " technical " departments. For
one reason the symmetry would then be lost from the names
of the four coordinates. And, moreover, the word tecJinicul
would have brought us back again to the subjective divi
sion, and the word (economic would refer to the Church
organization. Office alone stands coordinate with Bible,
Church and Dogma as a supernatural element, and this
word office cannot be applied to any other but to the Dia-
coniological departments.

Nothing need be said in justification of the name of BiMio-
logical departments, and the question of what is or is not to
be classed under this rubric must be reserved for later dis
cussion. But we must briefly vindicate the name of Ecclesi-
ological departments in the sense indicated above. At first
sight it appears that the twofold assertion is contradictory,
that the Church in this connection is a supernatural fruit of

634 § 99. THE ORGANISM OF [Div. Ill

regeneration, and that in another sense she is the product of
the operation of the Word. This contradiction, however, is
in appearance only. Even here thought may not be divorced
from leiny. Without the constant activity of the Holy Spirit
the Scripture itself is inoperative, and only when this activ
ity of the Holy Spirit causes the Scripture to be illumined
does this fruitful virtue go out from it. Suppose, therefore,
that the Holy Scripture were to be carried into the world,
without the regenerating and illumining activity of the Holy
Spirit to precede, accompany, and to follow it, no church
would ever be seen among the nations. But on the other
hand also, if the action of the Holy Spirit had remained a
pure mystery, and had not been unveiled to the consciousness
by the Word, there would have been a hidden life-power in
the souls of many people, but that power would never have
become operative, would not have led one believer to join
himself to another, and thus would never have revealed the
Church as an observable phenomenon. In its hidden quality
the Church therefore is the product of the regenerating action
of the Holy Spirit, but theology cannot observe that action ;
this remains hidden in mysticism ; and theology begins to
reckon with it only when it makes itself outivardly manifest in
word and practice. In this the Word of G-od is the leading-
power, and the touchstone as well, by which it becomes known
whether we have to do with an action of the Holy Ghost,
or with a fanatic fantasy or imagination. Hence both are
true: in its spiritual essence the Church is a product of the
action oi: the Holy Grhost, and the Church, as an object ob
servable by theology, exhibits the operation of the Word.

The name of Dof/matological departments can only be fully
explained in connection with the treatment of the group.
Here, however, let it be said that it does not mean a group
of departments, in which, independently of the history of doc
trine, the investigator is to build up for himself a system of
truth from the Holy Scripture. Actually this is never done.
Every dogmatist who is a real theologian, voluntarily takes
the history of doctrine into account. Care, then, should be
taken not to appear to do what in reality one does not do.

CHAP. IV] THEOLOGY IN ITS PARTS 635

Independent formulation of faith is nothing but the criticism
of an individual mind, which cuts itself loose from the com
munion of saints, takes its stand proudly over against the
power of history, and cherishes faith in its own leading by
the Holy Ghost but not in the guidance of the Holy Ghost in
the Church of Christ. As a protest against this the name of
Dogmatological group demands that Dogma, as a result of
history, shall be taken as one's starting-point, and that in its
central interpretation and in each of its subdivisions this
Dogma shall be examined critically and ever again be tested
by the Holy Scripture, in order that in this way at the same
time its further development may be promoted.

And finally, with reference to the order of succession,
opinion can scarcely vary as to which group ought to be
gin and which group close the series. Of themselves the
Bibliological departments take the precedence, because the
Holy Scripture is the very principium of theology. And in
the same way it is but natural for the official departments to
come last, since they assume the completion of the Dogmato
logical departments. But a difference of opinion may arise
as to the question, whether the Ecclesiological departments
ought to follow or to precede the Dogmatological. Planck,
Staudlin, and Harless put Systematic Theology first, and
Historic Theology after it ; but without doubt Hagenbach
owes the great success of his encyclopedic manual largely to
his accuracy of judgment in assigning the first place to the
historical departments. Raebiger likewise took the same
course, and to us also it is no question for doubt but that
logical order demands the Bibliological group to be followed
immediately, not by the Dogmatological, but by the Ecclesio
logical group. Our division admits of no other. Dogma has
no existence at first, but it originates only by degrees, and it
is unthinkable without the Church that formulates it. If thus
we would avoid the mistake of formulating our dogmatics
unhistorically directly from the Scripture, but rather seek
to derive it from the Scripture at the hand of the Churchr
then the Church as a middle-link between Bible and Dogma,
is absolutely indispensable. To which, of course, it must be

§w. ORGANISM OK THEOLOGY IN ITS TARTS [Dn-. in

added, that there is an " interaction " between each of the
four groups. What man is able to bring any Bibliological
department to a satisfactory close without taking the Church
into account? How would you be able to understand more
than a part of Church history, without keeping account with
Dogma and the Office ? And how would Dogma be intelli
gible without the official function, which in councils and
synods made their construction a possibility? This, however,
applies to any division of any science whatever. In the pro
cess of history the fibres of all groups twine themselves about
and around each other. To this, however, the organic division
cannot adapt itself. The only question to be solved is this :
how. in the idea of the organism, the several elements are to
be originally distinguished. And so taken, the idea of the
organism of theology points out to us four principal branches
which divide themselves from her trunk: First, that group
which engages itself with the Bible as such ; secondly, the
group in which the Church appears as the revelation of the
operation of the Word ; in the third place, the group which
ranges itself about Dogma as the reflection of the Word in
the consciousness of regenerated humanity; and finally, a
fourth group, which has the office for its centre, as the means
ordain'"! of (rod to cause His Word continuously to assert
itself.

CHAPTER V

HISTOKY OF THEOLOGY

§ 100. Introduction

The historic review of Theology, which closes this volume,
cannot undertake to furnish a detailed narrative of the pro
cess run by theology in all its ramifications during these
eighteen centuries. This process forms, not the subject of
an encyclopedic, but of a proper historical investigation, which
directs itself to a single department, or to a single period, or
finally, to theology as a whole (as with Von Zezschwitz, in
his Entivickelungsgang der Theologie ah Wissenschaft, Lpz.,
1867). In Encyclopedia, on the other hand, only the result
of these investigations can be taken up and put into connec
tion with the encyclopedic course of thought. For the writer,
especially, there is less occasion to enter upon details, for
the reason that the history of Theological Encyclopedia,
which runs so largely parallel with that of Theology, has
elsewhere been treated by him more broadly than has hereto
fore been done, and too much detail in this chapter would
only lead to needless repetition. The question whether this
review should not have been placed before the chapter on
the conception of theology is here answered in the nega
tive. It is entirely true that the forming of the conception
of theology presumes the knowledge of theology as a his
toric phenomenon, but the historic knowledge in that sense
may be presumed as universally known, and Encyclopedia
can accomplish its task of pointing out the right way in this
historic process, only when it is ready with its conception.
According to the logical course of thought, the historj^ of
theology would really have to appear twice. First, a his
tory of the facts should be furnished which should include
as fact everything that announced itself as a theological

637

638 § 100. INTRODUCTION [Div. Ill

phenomenon, without discrimination or choice, not organi
cally, but atomistically. Then, with these facts in sight, the
conception, principle, method and organic nature of theology
should have to be determined. And reinforced with this
insight, at the end another historic review should have to be
furnished, but this time under the criticism of the idea of
theology. This double treatment, however, of first recording
indiscriminately the "facts," and after that, of indicating with
discrimination and selection the course of the process in these
facts, could not be justified practically. No single science is
capable of encyclopedic treatment, until it has obtained suf
ficient influence to make its appearance a matter of general
knowledge, at least with its own students. This also applies to
theology, " the leading facts of the manifestation " of which
are to be found in every Church history, so that he who is to
treat of them encyclopedically may accept them as being gen
erally known. Encyclopedia discovers no new science, but
investigates a science, the phenomena of which are every
where seen. However much, therefore, such a review of
phenomena may form an indispensable link in the course
of logical thought, which must precede the forming of the
conception, Encyclopedia need not furnish that link, since it
is of itself present. The second review, on the other hand,
may not be omitted, for that is to show how, in connection
with the encyclopedic results obtained, the process is to be
understood in the phenomena. In this second review, the
outline of this process will differ according to the nature of
the results obtained by encyclopedic investigation.

This critical review embraces six sections, each one of
which covers a proper period. First, comes the period of
na'ivety; then the period of internal conflict; then the period
of triumph claimed too prematurely ; then the period of multi
formity ; after this, the period of apparent defeat; and finally,
the period of resurrection. Let it be kept in mind, that this
review does not concern itself with the history of theology
as the knowledge of God, but with the science which has this
knowledge of (*od for its object. Hence, this history begins
where special Revelation is completed. If the word •• Theol-

CHAP. V] § 101. THE PERIOD OF NAIVETY 639

ogy " is taken in the sense of science, then there is no theol
ogy of Isaiah, Micah, Peter, or Paul, but it arises only when
special Revelation has reached its goal, and the task begins of
introducing the content of this Revelation into the enlight
ened consciousness of regenerated humanity, and from this
human consciousness to reproduce it. That this was the
task imposed upon it, was not understood for a time by
regenerated man. Had it depended upon primitive Chris
tianity, intensely satisfied with her great salvation, she
would have withdrawn herself in mystical enjoyment of the
same, in obedience to the same impulse which, especially in
those methodistic circles which originated with the Reveil,
looks down upon theological effort with a certain spiritual
self-conceit. But the Holy Spirit compelled her to under
take this task by the reaction, which in all sorts of ways,
from the consciousness of the unregenerate, set itself to
dissect and to destroy the content of Revelation, and the
Revelation itself. And only when in this way the need had
rendered this scientific effort a necessity, a taste was created
for this work, after the rule of the discendo discere discimus
(by learning we learn to learn), and the inclination was fos
tered which explains the later growth of theology. This,
at the same time, exhibits the folly of the desire to explain
theology from the instituted Church. As far as the insti
tuted Church herself was concerned, she has almost never
known the scientific impulse, but has ever preferred to devote
herself to the still enjoyment of her great salvation. Theol
ogy, as a science, was, as a rule, more of an hindrance to her
than a help ; and theology owes its origin, its maintenance,
and its guarantee for the future, not to the initiative of the
Church, but to the initiative of the Holy Spirit, who was also
its guide.

§ 101. The Period of Naivety

As soon as the Church had freed itself from the swaddling
clothes of Israel's national life, the Christian religion went
out into the world as a militant power. " Think not that I
am come," said Christ, " to bring peace on earth, but the

640 § 101. TIIK PERIOD OF NAIVETY [Div. HI

sword. For I am come to set man at variance with man."
Also. " I am come to send fire on the earth ; and what will
1, if it be already kindled?" Which sayings but delineate
the character of Christian heroism in contrast to a timid
ironies, which fills in every gap, and covers up every differ
ence. Conflict might have been in part postponed, if the
world of that age had still been confined to the stage of
infantile unconsciousness, or if a tabula rasa could have been
made of all development attained. But this could not be,
.since the Christian religion was commissioned to appear in a
world which boasted of a very ripe development, and spoke
at times of the golden age of emperors, and which, notwith
standing its spiritual dearth, prided itself on great things.
This placed the Christian religion as an opposing force over
against the historical results of a broad, and, in part, a deep-
searching development, which was sufficient unto itself, and
which would not readily part with the sceptre of power over
the spirits of men. Sooner or later the Christian religion was
bound to conflict with the existing state of things at every
point, and was forced at once to do this : (1) with the pseudo-
religions, which were still dominant; (2) with the world of
thought, which it first depopulated, and then undertook to
populate with its own content; and (3) with the actual world,
both national and social, the whole machinery of which it re
solved to place upon another pivot. This threefold antithesis
shows itself at once with the appearance of the apostles, who
would have been utterly impotent but for their spiritual
heroism. Which heroism also, for the most part, they sealed
with their blood. From the very beginning the conflict
assumed the character of a life and death struggle ; on the
one side being arrayed the ripest products which unregen-
erate human nature had thus far commanded, and the richest
development the human consciousness had attained to without
higher revelation and enlightening ; and opposed to this, upon
the other side, the " foolishness of the cross," which proclaimed
the necessity of palingenesis, prophesied an entirely different
condition which was to ripen from this, and at the same time
announced a " wisdom " that was to array itself antithetically

CHAP. V] § 101. THE PERIOD OF NAIVETY 641

against the " wisdom of the world." The outbreak could not
tarry. What existed and bore rule was rooted too firmly to
allow itself to be superseded without a struggle ; and the
Christian religion, which was the aggressive force, was too
heroic in its idealism to be silenced by satire or shame, by
the sword or fagot. The conflict indeed has come ; for
eighteen centuries this strife has never come to a truce ex
cept in form ; even now the antithesis of principles in this
struggle is frankly confessed from both sides, and this con
test shall be decided only when the Judge of the living and
the dead shall weigh the final result of the development of
our human race in the Divine balance.

It was natural that at first the Christian religion should
stand most invincible in its attack on religion. In its
strength of early youth, aglow with the fires of its first love,
it presented a striking contrast to pseudo-religion, aged and
worn out, maintained for the most part in forms only, and
held in honor among the illiterate more than in the centres
of culture and power. Within the religious domain Pagan
ism has almost nowhere been able to maintain itself, and
without exaggeration it may be said that almost from the
very first the chances for the Christian religion as such were
those of a veni, vidi, vici. Within the ethical-social and
national domain, however, the struggle was far more serious,
and it took no less than three centuries of bloody fighting
before in Constantino the first definite triumph could be
recorded. But much more serious still was the first attack
in that strife within the intellectual bounds. Here at its first
appearance Christianity stood with but a "sling and a stone
from the brook " over against the heavily armed Goliath, and
thanks to the providential leadings of the Lord, this Goliath
also was made at length to eat sand. Christ Himself had
drawn this antithesis in the intellectual world, when He said :
" I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou
hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast
revealed them unto babes." And since theology belongs to
this domain, and to no other, it is entirely natural, that at
its first appearance theology bears the character of naivety.

G42 § 101. THE PERIOD OF NAIVETY [Div. Ill

Not as though there had not been given in the Revelation of
the New Testament itself the clear and entirely conscious
tendency of this antithesis also in the full sense of principles
involved ; but it was reserved for later ages to bring out
in all its deductions what was potentially revealed in the
Scripture. Even now this task is by no means ended, and
our own age has been the first to grasp the antithesis in the
higher intellectual world between science within and science
outside the sphere of palingenesis.

Hence in this period of naivety there was no question
whatever of a theology as an organic science, in the sense
in which our age especially understands it. What the apos
tolic fathers offer is little more than exhortation, pious and
serious, but as to principles very imperfectly thought out.
From Quadratus to Hegesippus the apologists enter an acci
dental and fragmentary plea to parry assailants from the side
of philosophy or invectives from the lips of public opinion,
rather than place over against their world of thought a clearly
conscious world of thought of their own. The education at
most of prospective ministers of the Word, as well as of the
youth of higher rank, was the leading motive at the schools
of Asia Minor, Alexandria and North Africa. And in the
pseudepigraphical literature tradition and the effort of diverg
ing tendencies are both active to create for themselves an
authority to Avhich to appeal. If then, without doubt the
attack was made from the side of the Christians in the reli
gious domain, this was not the case in the intellectual domain.
Here the pagans themselves took the initiative, either by
combating the Christian faith directly, such as was done by
Celsus, Porphyry and Hierocles, or, which was far worse,
by introducing the Christian religion as a new phenomenon
into their own pantheistic world-view. First with the
Gnostics, and shortly after with the Manicheans, the Church
of Christ suffered the severest strain, and it is certainly not
because of her intellectual superiority that she came out
triumphantly from this mortal combat. The strife indeed
compelled severe processes of thought, and the deepest prin
ciples of life were freely laid bare, but the real character

CHAP. V] § 101. THE PERIOD OF NAIVETY 643

of this antithesis was still so little understood that, with
Clement and Origen, the victory was bought at the price
of weakness of principle ; and the influence of " the knowl
edge falsely so called," which raises its head in heretical
teachings, entered the very pale of the Church already in
this first period. If, therefore, the decision in this strife had
been reached by a hand-to-hand combat of intellectual powers,
there is no doubt but that Paganism would have carried the
day. Evidently, therefore, the Church owes the different
result to the fact that it soon began to manifest itself as an
organizing power, which ethically judged the pagan world,
and finally enlisted the political power in its ranks. Hence
the severest trial was suffered at the hands of the Manicheans,
which is so impressive a phenomenon for the reason that in
this an antipodal Church arrayed itself as a religiously organ
ized power in opposition to the Church of Christ, and the
false gnosis of Manicheanism assailed the Church with her
own weapons. And this Manichean trouble assumed such
wide proportions that for a time it seemed as though the
Church were on the verge of being swallowed up alive. The
flood of this church-like organized gnosis had forced its way
from the heart of Asia to the most westerly parts of North
Africa. Even Augustine felt the after-pains of it.

If it is asked whether in this first period there was no
manifestation of an impulse to apply oneself in a positive
sense to that intellectual pursuit in which theology finds its
appointed task, then be it said that this positive element
soon presented itself; for ministers needed to be educated,
preaching necessitated exegesis and fixing of ethical stand
ards, the organization of its own power gave rise to the
problem of Church government, and, after some time had
passed, the need of a review of history became urgent
of itself. But for no single moment did these positive
studies rise above the primitive water-mark ; or where this
was the case, as at Alexandria, they made too vain a show
of feathers borrowed from pagan speculation, so that almost
instinctively the Church perceived at once that this rich de
velopment promised more danger than gain. If it takes small

644 § 101. THE I'KHIOl) OK XArVKTV [Div. Ill

pains to observe in this first period of na'ivety the tirst buds
of almost all the departments of theology, it cannot be said
that at that time theology had already matured as a self-
conscious power in its organic unity. For this the needed data
were wanting ; the element of genius was too largely absent
from the persons ; and where this genius was unmistaka
bly present in men like Origen and in a few teachers in the
North African school, it soon showed itself top-heavy, and
by its one-sidedness became heretical. The growth was too
early and too exuberant, but there was no depth of soil,
and because the development in the root was unequal, this
element of genius soon outgrew its own strength. There
was conflict between a twofold life- and world-view, which
undoubtedly governed the general state of things, but the first
issue in this struggle with Paganism is owing to other fac
tors than intellectual superiority. And in this first period,
which was entirely na'ive, theology neither attained unto a
clearly conscious insight of its own position, nor to a clearly
perceived antithesis in opposition to " the knowledge falsely
so called." Hence, when, after Constan tine's appearance,
Paganism withdrew, there was almost no one to perceive
that the real question of difference on intellectual grounds
was still unsolved, much less was it surmised that fifteen
centuries later the old assailant would again war against the
Church of Christ, and, armed to the teeth, would repulse her
from more than half the domain which, through the course

of the centuries, had appeared invincibly her own. Na'ively
they lived in the thought that Goliath lay vanquished onoe
and for all time, and that the Lord would return before the
antithesis had also been exhibited in the world of intellect,
both as a conflict of principles in the lowest depths of ova
existence, and differentiated above in all the branches.

But however naive this first development of theology may
have been, even then it showed potentially all the richness <)f
its colors. In two respects: first, although theology is no
abstract speculation, but as a positive science has its origin
from life itself, in this first period it furnished a so-many-
sided intellectual activity, that to-day there is almost no

CHAP. V] § 101. THE PERIOD OF NAIVETY 645

single department of theology which does not trace its
beginnings to this first period. And, secondly, in that in
this first period the several tendencies which henceforth
were to dominate the study of theology delineate themselves
almost completely. Even then dualism asserted itself, and
tried to make the Christian religion shine by itself as a
novum quid apart from the preceding development of our
human life, and therefore made its appearance as a ten
dency which was partly mystical-religious, and partly pietis-
tical-nomistic. In opposition to the one-sidedness of this
dualism, which was for the most part apocalyptic, the
monistic-syncretistic tendency gained a hearing in this first
period, which, while it maintained the unity between the
light of nature (lumen naturae) and the light of grace
(lumen gratiae), ran the risk of abandoning the specific
difference between the two. Similarly also, in this first period,
there was seen upon the one side an attempt to find the point of
support in the spiritual authority of the Holy Scripture, and,
on the other side, to obtain a foothold in the consolidation
of ecclesiastical authority. And in those early centuries also
the tendency showed itself to combine whatever good there
was in each of these four chief points of view in an eclectic
and arbitrary way, by a compromise which avoided the con
flict of principles. The conflict between the Judaistic and
Pagan element should not be coordinated with that between
these five tendencies as if it were similar to them, since it falls
of itself under the antithesis already named. A separate men
tion of this specific struggle, however, should be made, in
so far as it worked a permanent effect in the Christian
Church, both in the pseudo-symbolic stamp of the Romish
Church, in Chiliasm so prevalent again in these later times,
and in Sabbatism and in all strivings after holiness by
works that seek their point of support in the Old Testament.
Under all these forms, the antithesis is the same between
the real manifestation of Christ and what preceded this
manifestation by way of preparation. And while this ques
tion, which first presented itself objective-historically, re
turned subjectively, later on, when Christ became real, to

646 § 102. THE INTERNAL CONFLICT [Div. Ill

every one who was converted unto Him, it enters too deeply
into the life of the Church itself not to be classified under
a proper head.

§ 102. The Internal Conflict

The change brought about by the reign of Constantine
the Great is vastly important also in the history of theol
ogy. Not that he personally exerted a dominating influence
upon theology, but in so far as the change of the religion of
the throne offered surest proof that the conflict against Pagan
ism had reached a provisional decision, and had terminated in
a complete triumph of the Christian religion. It is indeed
noteworthy that, without any direct connection, the eccle
siastical events at Alexandria run almost parallel with the
political events. In 313, the very year of the second edict of
Milan, Arius wras ordained a presbyter in Alexandria. In 321
Arius is condemned by the Synod at Alexandria, while Con
stantine is at the point of coming over to Christianity in 323.
And in 325, at the council of Nice, Arius falls, Athanasius
appears upon the scene, and the emperor of the Roman Em
pire, which was still at the height of its power, casts his
influence in the scale of the worship of the Christ as " Begot
ten, not made, and of one essence with the Father." And
with this all other relations are changed. The Christians
become polemics, and compel heathen scholars to appear as
apologists. Not the Christian religion, but Paganism, is now
denied a starting-point in public life. The influence upon
public opinion has now passed into the hands of presbyters
and bishops. Pagan cult bleeds to death for want of finan
cial support, while Christian ceremonial begins to exhibit
pomp and splendor. Moral preponderance is turned en
tirely to the side of the Christian religion. Henceforth the
higher classes follow after the Cross in ever-increasing
numbers. Christian schools flourish in proportion as heathen
schools wane. And, as is generally observed in such
changes in the state of affairs, from now on, talent, the
energy of personality, and the power of the word turn their
back upon Paganism, and place themselves at the service of

CHAP. V] § 102. THE INTERNAL CONFLICT 647

the newly arrived religion. And this explains the almost
immediate transition from the naivety of the first period, to
the almost midlife maturity that marks this second period.
The fourth and fifth centuries are contrasted with the second
and third almost as light and shadow, and this sudden blos
soming of intellectual life and even of genius within the
Christian domain is so overwhelming, that already in the
sixth century unmistakable signs appear of deterioration,
and in the seventh century the decline of the middle ages
has already set in. The almost simultaneous appearance of
the dominating Fathers in the East, as well as in the West, by
which the heroic names of Athanasius and Augustine have
been attached to the orthodox development of the Church and
theology for all ages, — a fact which finds no explanation
from history, nor from psychology, but only from the provi
dential leading of the Creator of spirits and geniuses, — proves
of itself, that the change brought about by Constantino marks
the beginning of the fundamental period of Christian the
ology. All that follows after can only be built upon the
permanent foundation laid by these gigantic architects. For
both these cycles of Patres, which group themselves about
Athanasius in the East, and about Augustine in the West,
neither lean nor rest upon what went before, but stand en
tirely upon their own feet, with Atlantic strength to support the
development coming after them. This appears most clearly
from comparison between the meagre efforts of earlier apolo
gists and the Civitas Dei of Augustine. With every earlier
apologist it was a mere effort of hands and feet to protect
the body against the assailant, but in Augustine we meet with
a Herculean figure that destroys the monster with a stroke
of the sword and makes the dragon retreat into his hole.
Augustine is the Christian triumphator, before whose tri
umphal chariot are borne the spoils of Paganism and Mani-
cheism as trophies. In him and after him the Christian
religion is dominant, while nothing remains for Paganism but
the convulsions of approaching death. Gloriously has Gol
gotha been avenged, and the cross, which was once an
accursed tree, is now a symbol of honor.

648 § 102. THE INTERNAL CONFLICT [Div. Ill

By tliis, however, theology obtained an entirely different
character. Whereas in the first period, it had been chiefly
bent upon self-defence against the arch-enemy, that enemy
was now vanquished, and thus the antithesis between regen
erate and unregenerate human consciousness could no longer
be the most conspicuous. When the school, at which Proklus
flourished last, was closed at Athens, and the last supporters
of classic tradition fled to Persia, there was no more need for
a further conflict about this deepest and most incisive antith
esis. As an intellectual power, Paganism no longer stood.
All intellectual power was now withdrawn within the walls
of the Christian Church; consequently, the antitheses which
were to impel theology to action could not but have their
rise in the heart of that Church itself. Hence it became a
conflict within its own bosom.

If the question is raised whether the deepest significance of
this conflict is not still stated \)y the antithesis between nature
and grace, between Humanism and Theism, the answer lies
close at hand. It continued of course always the same antithe
sis, but with this difference, that now the anti-Christian power
made its appearance dressed in a Christian and even an eccle
siastical garb. After persecution had ceased and the Christian
religion had been duly inaugurated in its career of honor, the
transition to Christianity became so colossal, especially among
the upper classes, and so largely a matter of fashion, that there
could scarcely be any more question of an actual transforma
tion of spirits. People were everywhere baptized, but as
baptized members they brought their pagan world-view with
them into the Church. Two classes of Christians therefore
soon stood arrayed in a well-ordered line of battle over against
each other : those who were sincere, who were truly partici
pants of the new principle of life, and were but waiting for
the propitious moment in which to work out this principle
into a proper world of thought ; and on the other side the
pseudo-Christians, who from their natural, unregenerate life-
principle reacted against the Cross, in order to maintain the
old world-view, now exhibited in Christian form. It is this
conflict which compelled the Christian Church to awake from

CHAP. V] § 102. THE INTERNAL CONFLICT

her mystical-practical life to energetic activity of spirit, and to
create theologically from her own life-principle a correspond
ingly adequate world of thought. And this was done Christo-
logically and Soteriologically. First Christologically, because
the central starting-point of her activity lay in the Christ,
so that the just relation between the Divine and human,
between nature and grace, had first to be established in the
dogma concerning Christ. And after that, Soteriologically,
because in the application of the salvation which had appeared
in Christ, everything depended upon a correct insight into
the true relation between God's action and man's action in
bringing about his salvation. In both these questions the sin
cere Christians proved the stronger, because the conflict was
prosecuted from out their own life-principle. As long as it was
merely the formal question between the Divine and human
factors in the process of attaining certainty in Divine things,
the philosophers were their superiors, and their defence could
not be one of principle. From the scientific view-point, their
apology was weak. But when called upon to formulate dog
matically who Christ was, and how grace operates in the Child
of God, the tables were turned. The pseudo-Christians had
to deal with a matter foreign to them, while those who
were sincere handled what constituted a component part of
their own life, the object of their love and worship, the cause
of their eternal joy. Thus the sympathy of a holy love
sharpened their intellectual capacities, and it explains itself,
how these unexcelled Fathers of the Church have caused the
stream of theologic life to flow from the rock as with a magic
wand, and at the same time have given to theology its inner
certainty. Theology could never have substantiated itself by
any demonstration from without: and only by starting out
from the Christ and the work of grace in the sinner, and,
objectively as well as subjectively, formulating accurately
the antithesis between the life of nature and the life of grace,
did it clear for itself formally also the way to vindicate its
view-point.

For this reason the antithesis between philosophy and the
Christian religion could not be a stimulant in this period.

650 § 102. THE INTERNAL CONFLICT [Div. Ill

Already theology feels herself mistress in her own home,
and sees in philosophy nothing but a tamed lion, which she
harnesses before her triumphal chariot. At Byzantium classic
study had obtained a proper place of honor, from the days
of Emperor Photius. Boast was made of Plato and of
Aristotle. And it was in the footsteps of Aristotle that
John of Damascus in his "E«8oo-t9 printed an irremovable
dogmatic stamp upon the entire Church of the East. But
for theological studies in general, philosophy in all its rami
fications offered none but subsidiary services. Centrally
theologic development in this period is dogmatic, and the
wide exegetical studies have no other tendency than to
establish scripturally once for all the truth that had been
found. Critically the work done does not extend beyond the
content of Scripture, and formally what is attempted is at most
to keep in hand good codexes rather than bad. Hermeneutics
is established in order, after given rules, to overthrow false
exegesis of heretical doctores, and the extent to which
Hieronymus busied himself with isagogical questions had
merely this object in view — viz. placing at the disposal
of the coming clergy all sorts of things worthy of their
notice. Thus everything was rendered subsidiary to the
development of dogmatics, including even historical studies;
and thus dogmatics appeared mostly in the form of polemics,
to combat false representations. Time was not yet ripe for
the organic construction of a system, which should include
all the dogmatic treasures. Even Augustine did not vent
ure upon this. What Origen had too early attempted,
served as an example to deter others, and what John
Damascene accomplished for the Eastern Church has done
much toward the petrifying of that Church; even though
it may not be overlooked, that this very early check put upon
dogmatic thought saved the Eastern Church from many
serious errors, in which at a later date the Western Church
lost itself.

But if theology triumphed over heresy in its own bosom
during this period, it was not all gold that glittered. This
intellectual victory had not been achieved except in union

CHAP. V] § 102. THE INTERNAL CONFLICT 651

with the ecclesiastical organization ; and the Church with
her ban had anathematized whoever had been conquered by
theology. This effected too close a bond between theology
and the Church, which resulted after the death of the
coryphaei in a limitation of liberty for theology as a science,
even as in the Church everything was compelled to exhibit
itself too largely in one mould and move in the same direc
tion. Multiformity of life was lost in the uniformity of the
traditional ecclesiastical type, and as soon as opposition
ceased, theology lost the spur for action, and almost every
reason for existence. Her practitioners were like an army
dismissed, since victory had been achieved. The heroic
period of the Fathers in the fourth and fifth centuries,
therefore, is followed by a period of lassitude and deathlike
stillness, which gradually turned into the barrenness of the
Middle Ages. At first this baneful uniformity did not make
itself so strongly felt. The schools of Antioch and Alexan
dria, of Nisibis and Edessa, of North Africa and of Rome,
were strong with the vigor of youth, each having a theologi
cal tendency of its own. But when presently the Eastern
schools lost their significance, and the West appeared in the
foreground, and in the West Rome's preponderance assumed
proportions which became more and more decisive, the dis
tinction was gradually lost sight of between " heretical de
parture " and " difference of tendency among the orthodox."
All differences were looked upon with envy. Unity in the
most absolute sense had become the watchword. And when
finally this unity was carried off as spoils, it seemed more
easy to maintain this unity thenceforth by ecclesiastical
decisions than by theologic debate. Theology had done
her duty, now the Church was to have the word. Not
theology, but the Hierarchy, as early as the sixth century,
held the reins of power which are to maintain the principle of
the Christian life. And though it is self-evident that there
still remained certain variations, and that absolute unity has
never been obtained, Rome, nevertheless, preferred to allow
these variations sufficient playground within its own organi
zation, and when needed to provide diversion by monastic

65*2 § !<>:). I'KEMATUHELV CLAIMED TRIUMPH [Div. HI

orders. Especially the removal of the centre of gravity of
the Church from the East to the West, from civilized to the
still uncivilized nations of the Germanic-Gallic world, materi
ally aided this dismissal of theology from service, and en
couraged the withdrawal of study into the convents, as in
so many centres of learning in the midst of uncultivated
conditions.

§ 103. Prematurely claimed Triumph

The long period extending across the four centuries which
precede and the four centuries which follow the Dark Ages,
is of importance for the development of Theology in its sec
ond half only. This is not intended to undervalue the rich
development of intellectual life in the several monasteries,
at the courts of the Carolingian princes, and under Alfred
among the Anglo-Saxons, before the night of the Middle
Ages set in, but merely to indicate that the great progress
of learning rendered no material aid to the development of
the conception of theology as such. It brought this devel
opment scarcely an indirect good. The study of the better
Latin authors was continued, the Church Fathers were read
and quoted, series of excerpts from the Fathers (catenae
patrum) were compiled for exegesis, chronicles were dili
gently written, Alcuin prepared even some sort of a dog
matic compendium from the works of Augustine, entitled
J)e tiJe sanctae et individuae Trinitatis libri duo, which
was rapidly passed on from hand to hand ; but however
bright and clear this learning was compared to the night of
ignorance that still rested darkly upon Europe's west and
north, it produced no scientific results. There were fresh
wave-beats in these waters, of momentary duration, as when
Elipandus of Toledo and Felix of Urgel advocated adoption-
ism, Paschasius Radbertus constructed the theological expla
nation of transubstantiation, and Gottschalk undertook once
more to assail the semi-Pelagianism that had crept in on every
hand, and the conflict about the filioque became necessary as a
defence against the Eastern Church ; but these efforts effected

no enduring results. The Church tacitly giving shape to

CHAP. V] § 103. PREMATURELY CLAIMED TRIUMPH 653

public thought by her orthodoxy weighed too heavily upon
the life of the spirit ; and no question was settled scientifi
cally, for after a brief trial it was dismissed by the authority
of the ecclesiastical courts. Even an Isidorus Hispalensis, a
Venerable Bede, Alcuin, Hrabanus Maurus, or Hincmar of
Rheims left no single work of creative genius behind them.
And when the ninth century produces an independent
thinker in the person of John Scotus Erigena, he distin
guishes between affirmative and negative theology (theo-
logia KarcKJHiTiKij and aTro^em/c?;), and thereby merges real
theology into philosophy, and that, a philosophy in which the
old sin of Pantheism renews itself in a way more serious than
with Origen. So indifferent, however, was his time to these
deeper studies that this pantheistical philosopher held his
post of honor undisturbed at the court of the Carolingians,
surrounded by an orthodox clergy, and his writings were
condemned for the first time three centuries afterward by
Rome at the mouth of Pope Honorius III. as " being full
of the vermin of heretical depravity."

This does not imply that these three centuries passed
by to no purpose and without important results, but what
ever labor did more than protect the inherited theological
treasure, directed itself almost exclusively to what was calcu
lated to strengthen the Church in a practical way and civilize
the nations of the West. First, the system of monasticism
was deeply thought out, carefully ordered and clearly out
lined. Then the development of ecclesiastical law took
a higher flight, together with the ordering of civil relations,
which Avere included in canonical law. No little effort was
made to establish upon a sound footing the cathedral schools,
which had been founded by the Carolingian princes, and to
provide them with good material for study. And, finally,
there was no want during these ages of edifying literature of
a pious trend, mystical flavor and sound content. But none
of these studies touched upon theology in her nature and
being. No thought was expended upon her as such, and
there was still less of an effort made to vindicate her relation
to the non-theological development or to the reason. The

654 § 103. PREMATURELY CLAIMED TRIUMPH [Div. Ill

Church was mistress in the entire domain of life. The
opposition of ancient Rome's classical development had been
silenced by the decline of the culture of the times. Germanic
development was still too much in its infancy to renew the
old strife, and thus of itself the struggle for principles came
to an end ; the more because the ever-restless spirit of the
Greek came under the pressure of Islam, which prevented
it from exerting an influence upon the Church of the West.
The Dark Ages, which soon appeared, were but the natural
consequence of what went before. The wind blew no longer
from any quarter. It was a dead calm. On every hand
nothing but stagnant waters were seen. And thus, for want
of an animating impulse, the life of study waned.

It was very different, however, in the second part of this
long period. In 1096 the first crusade was undertaken. This
was an expression of Christian, chivalrous heroism, which not
only aroused the peoples from their sleep of death, but also
restored to the Church her sense of unity with the Church of
the East, and exerted no less mighty an influence upon the
ology. Here we must retrace our steps to Emperor Jus
tinian I., who closed by a decree the pagan school of Athens,
and thereby obliged its scholars to flee to Persia. There
these men tried to establish their classical school in safety,
and to prosecute their studies ; but however much they weie
disappointed in this, it was nevertheless under Persian, and
more especially under Syrian influences, that in the eighth cen
tury, under the high protectorate of the Abbasides, the classi
cal studies came to Bagdad, in order there, and present!}* in
Spain, to call into being a scientific life which far surpassed
the civilization of Christian Europe at that time. By contact
with this rich Mohammedan life the old classics were intro
duced again in Europe ; and when, in competition witli Islam,
the classical studies were resumed in Byzantium, under Bardas
and Photius, the old Greek-Roman world of thought entered
Christian Europe simultaneously from these two sides, to
recall it from its practical, mystical and ecclesiastically tradi
tional life to a higher development of its self-consciousness.

The new theological activity which was thus called into

CHAP. V] § 103. PREMATURELY CLAIMED TRIUMPH 655

being bears the name of Scholasticism, which name is derived
from docere in scola, and for this reason Scholasticism is also
connected with the rise of the universities. At first ac
quaintance the classical world did not stand high in the
general esteem. The beautiful in the world of old Hellas
and the virility in the world of old Rome was not loved by
the Middle Ages and Scholastics. This love flamed up only
when the Byzantine scholars fled from Turkish violence into
Italy, and when, as a fruit of their activity, Humanism made
its entry. No, the Scholastics cared less for Homer, ^Eschy-
lus, Virgil and Horace, than for Plato, Aristotle and Cicero.
On the first acquaintance with the works of Greece's great
philosophers especially, it was soon evident that these men
were profounder students than the clergy of the times. And
since these Scholastics knew too little Greek to read Aristotle
at once in the original, they obtained by their acquaintance
with the thinker of Stagira about such an impression as a Zulu
negro must receive from a visit to the arsenal at Woolwich.
What were the weapons they had thus far used, when com
pared to the rich supply of arms from the arsenal of Aristotle ?
And as the Christian knights were inspired to high exploits
by crusade upon crusade undertaken against Islam, the sight
of this glittering arsenal in the writings of Aristotle made the
scholars of those days quickly cast aside the sling and stone
and immediately arm themselves with the lances of Aris
totle's categories and with the armor of his distinctions, and
so to gain trophies for their Christian faith. At the outset
they foresaw none of the danger this implied. As yet they
perceived nothing of what was to come to light in Abelard,
in the Nominalists, and presently in the Humanists. They
did not surmise that the Greek-Roman tradition held a spirit
peculiar to itself, and that when once called out from its
grave this spirit would soon prove able to enlist once more
the sympathies of thinking minds, and for a second time let
loose against the Church the old enemy which had spoken in
Celsus and Porphyry. They thought they were simply deal
ing with the armor of a buried hero, and that they had a
perfect right to appropriate this armor to themselves.

§10.°,. PREMATURELY CLAIMED TRIUMPH [Div. Ill

Even thus, however, there was something very beautiful
iu this impulse. If it lay in the nature of the case that the
world of thought of un regenerated humanity must of neces
sity be different from that of regenerate humanity walking
in the light of God's Word, the task of theology was not ex
hausted in a self-defence against this world of natural thought.
She was called, in the first place, to populate her own world
of thought and to regulate it. The content of the Divine
Revelation had been committed to her, not to possess it as
gold in a mine, but to delve it out of that mine, and then to
convert that gold into all sorts of ornaments. The content
of Revelation had not been given dialectically, nor had it been
cast in the form of discursive thought. That which had been
revealed of God could therefore not be taken up as such into
the human consciousness. It had first to be worked over,
and its form be changed so as to suit human capacity. What
had been shown to the Eastern mind in images and symbols,
had to be assimilated by Western thinking and reproduced
intellectually. For this it was indispensable that the believ
ing Christian should also learn how to think, and how to
sharpen his powers of thought, in order to grasp the content
of his faith, not resting until he had succeeded, from the
root of palingenesis and \)y the light of photismos, in lead
ing the human consciousness to a coherent, comprehensive
world of thought entirely its own. And this they failed to do.
In the period of naivety the struggle with Paganism had been
broken off rather than fought out. Under the inspiration of
the Fathers of the Church all the powers of thought had been
directed to the establishing of the mysteries, to prevent here
sies; but in the following ages they neglected to anaryze the
further mysteries of the faith to the root. Thus they failed
of creating a Christian Philosophy, which should give to the
Christian world, to the glory of God, what old Hellas bad
possessed in Plato and Aristotle, thanks to Socrates' initia
tive. This want has been felt by the Scholastics, if only
feebly. They saw that Aristotle could teach them how to
think. They were ashamed of the fact that the scholars of
Bagdad and Cordova excelled the Christians in virility of

CHAP. V] § 103. PREMATURELY CLAIMED TRIUMPH 657

thought. And then they, too, threw themselves upon the
world of thought, they worked themselves into it, and became
masters in it of the first rank, with a virtuosity which claims
our admiration till this day. Suddenly they rise like cedars
from the barren tablelands of the Dark Ages. And in so far
as they, immovable in their faith, did not shrink before any
intellectual labor, however gigantic, they are still our exam
ples as intellectual heroes. He who refuses to consult with
Thomas Aquinas weakens himself as a theologian.

However, we have qualified their labor as a triumph grasped
prematurely. In the preface of the latest edition of Loin-
bardus' Sententiae and Thomas' Summa, Paris, 1841, the edi
tor wrote in a high-pitched key of these Sententiae and this
Summa : "Stupendous works indeed, the former of which
ruled all Europe for a century and a half and gave birth to
Thomas Aquinas, while the latter, being assuredly the very
sum of theology, has ruled all Europe for five centuries from
the day it was brought to light, and has begotten all suc
ceeding theologians." This flattering speech aims none too
high ; for after Thomas there has no one arisen who, as a theo
logian, has thought out the domain of sacred study so com
prehensively from all sides, and who has penetrated as deeply
to the bottom of all questions so heroically as he ; and only
the latest development of philosophy has given the stream
of theological thought a really new bend. The very rise of
this newer philosophy, however, has discovered how greatly
Thomas was mistaken, when he thought that he had al
ready hit the mark, when he placed the formal intellectual
development of the Grecian world at the service of the
Church. Undoubtedly it is since then only that theology
within its own ground has come to a richer development,
such as it had never known before, which has enabled it to
assimilate and to reproduce no mean part of the treasures of
Revelation ; but the struggle for principles, which theology
had to carry on for the vindication of her own right of ex
istence, had scarcely yet begun. Theology and philosophy
(taken now in the material sense) are too closely identified
bv Thomas. He takes too little account of the world of

658 § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY [Div. Ill

thought of unregenerate humanity as an independent whole.
It is with him still too much a subtle gymnastic of intellect,
which defends every part of the Church confession of that
day by distinctions, and again by distinctions against objec
tions, and vindicates the same as being in harmony with
reason. And it was especially serious because thus the
foundation of the building of Christian Doctrine was sought
by far too much in the subject itself and for the subject in
the understanding. For thus finally reason sat in judgment,
and though reason appeared in favor of the doctrines of the
Church when speaking from the mind of a Thomas, there
was no guarantee that this same reason in another subject
would not presently arrive at an opposite conclusion, and
then where was the triumph of the Christian religion ? In
Abelard it had already been shown with wrhat fire men were
playing. That fire had been extinguished by the holy energy
of Bernard of Clairvaux and by the ban of Innocent II. But
what was to be done, when presently that same fire should
break out again in wider extent and with greater fury ?
There was an increase of knowledge, but victory had not
yet been achieved. The mystical Scholastics were already
aware of this, for which reason they offered dialectical pro
ficiency the support of the fervor of devotion and faith. But,
of course, in this also there was no lasting security. That
security could be regained only when return was made to the
Holy Scripture.

§ 104. Development of Multiformity

The subject in hand is neither Religion nor the Church,
but Theology as a science, and therefore in the period pre
ceding the Reformation the emphasis falls upon the unfolding
of multiformity. The return to the Holy Scripture as the
sole principium was of far-reaching importance. Such men
as Thomas Aquinas, etc., fully intended to base their confes
sion upon the Holy Scripture, and on the other hand it is
also known that while devoted to the study of the Script
ures, Erasmus held to the confession of Rome till his death.
Similarly the motive of the newer development has been

CHAP. V] § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY 659

sought in the principle of free investigation, but only to be
overthrown by the confession of the Reformers themselves,
that they never pleaded for a freedom of investigation which
lacked all foundation in faith. It is self-evident, moreover,
that he who finds the motive of the new evolution of the
science of theology too exclusively in the return to the Holy
Scripture or too formally in freedom of investigation, excludes
thereby Romish theology altogether, and arbitrarily contracts
the domain of theology. That the labor of the Romish
Church was at first disqualified, is readily understood ; but
this narrow view has been abandoned a century ago, and in
theological circles the learned Jesuits especially are duly
recognized again. It certainly cannot be questioned that
the Romish theology of the last decenniums can claim the
name of theology in the strict sense of the word with far
more justice than what is still brought to the market under
the name of theology by the men of the Science of Religion
or by the speculative or ethical modern tendency. In view
of this the point of departure for this period lies for us in the
development of multiformity. Not as if such a multiformity
were intended by Luther or Calvin. This is by no means
asserted here. At Wittenberg, as well as at Geneva, the con
viction was unassailable for long years that their own confes
sion bore an absolute and exclusive character. Everything
that contradicted this was a falsification of the truth, just
as in both spheres of the Reformation one's own Church was
held to be the purest, not merely by way of comparison, but
so as to be actually looked upon as the only lawful contin
uance of the Church of the apostles ; and Rome's Church
was not only rejected as deformed, but, as a false imitation of
the Church, was abhorred by the epigones of the Reforma
tion as the Church of the Antichrist. And this could not be
otherwise at first. Notwithstanding the fact that the schism
of the Eastern Church had been continued for more than four
centuries, men had still refused to consider it anything more
than a schism. Age after age they were accustomed to the
idea that truth, which of necessity must be absolute, was
also bound to maintain this absolute character in the unity of

660 §104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY [Div.Iil

form and expression. And while the rigorous maintenance
of the unity of the Church rendered this result possible, the
very thought of a certain multiformity for the life of the
Church could not commend itself to any one. This concep
tion of unity had entered so deeply into the public conscious
ness of those times, that while multiformity was already in
existence de facto, and caused its effects to be felt, they still
argued and acted as though there were never anything but the
sino-le, uniform Church. It did not enter into the common con-

O '

sciousness of that day that the uniformity of the Church had
found its logical expression in the papal idea, and that with the
refusal of obedience to the Pope that uniformity was broken
forever, never again to be restored. In the days of the in
terim the dream was still dreamed, to restore by mutual con
sent, a unity which would also include the papal Church.
The numberless conferences between Lutherans and Re
formed, and between Reformed and Anabaptists proceeded
without distinction, from the desire to unite in the unity
of the faith everything that had broken with Rome. The
Byzantine spirit, which had come upon the German princes,
rejected the idea of all multiformity in the Church within the
boundaries of each, so resolutely and definitely that at length
the principle of cuius regio eius religio, i.e. " that the religion
of the crown must be the religion of the people," could for a
while rule as the leading thought. And when finally, yield
ing to the force of facts, and compelled by the European-
Romish league to political cooperation, the correlation of the
Lutheran and Reformed elements could no longer be neglected,
their mutual recognition resulted more from the impulse of
self-protection than from the impulse of a clearly self-conscious
conviction.

That this delusion of unity assumed with the Lutherans
forms that were so much more sharply outlined than with
the Reformed, — leading first to the rejection of the Reformed
exiles on the coast of the North Sea, and finally to the decapi
tation of Crell in 1601, — cannot be attributed to the fact that
the Reformed already occupied on principle a far wider stand
point, but was exclusively the result of their clearer insight

CHAP. V] § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY 6t)l

iii the liberty of the Church. They claimed an autonomous
life for the Church under her only King, Christ Jesus, and
though later they went so far in granting the State a civil
right over sacred things (ius circa sacra), that this liberty
of the Church became actually an illusion, yet from the
beginning their standpoint was more accurately chosen. In
Lutheran lands, the princes, aided by teachers of their ap
pointment acting as ecclesia docens, took the guidance of the
Church in their hands, while the Reformed demanded that
all ecclesiastical questions should be decided by the lawful
representatives of the churches, convened in Synod. This
is the reason that the State, in Reformed lands, had less in
terest in the exclusion of those of differing opinions, since
it found in these diverging groups a support over against the
ever-bolder pretensions of the autonomous churches. Hence
the principle, " that the religion of the crown must be the
religion of the people," could never gain a foothold in the
Reformed lands, the result of which was that from the begin
ning the ecclesiastical life in these lands exhibited a char
acter of greater multiformity. Exiles, who were refused
a shelter elsewhere, found protection in Reformed coun
tries, and thus the idea of the liberty of conscience, which
is an immediate result of multiformity, became of itself an
established doctrine in the Reformed kingdoms much earlier
than in Lutheran and Romish states. He who found
himself in trouble for his religion's sake had no standing
or chance for life anywhere but in the Reformed lands, viz.
in Switzerland and in the Netherlands.

But it cannot be questioned for a moment, that to Luther
the honor belongs of having dealt the fatal blow to the false
uniformity of the Church. When Luther burned the papal
bull, that unity was essentially destroyed. He derived the
moral right for this action from no canonical rule, but from
the authority of God, by whose Word it was assured unto
him in the deepest depths of his conscience. And by this
the subjective-religious principle received its right as a
power, which, if needs be, could defy churchly authority.
And when Luther's initiative found an echo in the hearts

662 § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY [Div. Ill

of many thousands, and became the point of departure for a
separate Church organization, multiformity of churchly life
became thereby eo ipso, a fact. For if Luther held to the
idea that every one who, like himself, broke with Rome,
was bound to arrive at like results with himself, from the
nature of the case this idea could not be maintained. For so
soon as another effort made its appearance by the side of his,
which showed itself possessed of the power to be even more
efficient in founding churches than his, he might indeed
write to Zwingli from Marburg : " You are people of another
spirit " ; but after the Pope had been renounced, and the
State had no power outside of its boundaries, there was no
authority to prohibit this third " Church-forming " power from
making its appearance and from consolidating itself : 1517
made Luther powerless in 1529. That the Anabaptist and
Socinian movements, in their dualistic-mystic and moderate-
rationalistic activity, have not produced like results, and
still flourish in small groups at most, which have never
obtained any universal significance, is not attributable to the
fact that these Anabaptists and Socinians were refused the
right of existence ; for men would fain have treated the Cal-
vinists in the same way, and the Calvinists also barely toler
ated the Martinists; but it was the immediate result of their
want of " Church-formative " (Kirchenbildende) power.
Such then was the lesson of history, viz. that the Church
of Christ was bound to reveal herself in more than one form,
but, at the same time, that this multiformity of revelation did
not depend upon an arbitrary whim or freak, but was deter
mined by the spiritual and forming power which appeared, or
did not appear, in the several tendencies that raised their heads.
Gradually, and of itself, this multiformity of the churches
led to the recognition of four fundamental types of Church
formation, apart from the Armenian, the Koptic, and otlu-r
churches in the far East; viz. as the fruit of the Reformation
the Lutheran and the Reformed, and by the side of these the
Grreek and the Romish. Four principal groups, each one of
which exhibits a churchly character of its o\vn. reveals a pecul
iar effort, assumes a proper form, and as such, also represents

CHAP. V] § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY 663

a special theological tendency. Without attracting at once
attention to itself as such, this multiformity was sealed
confessionally in the dogma of the visible Church as the
revelation of the invisible Church. So long as the Romish-
papal delusion of unity was maintained, it was entirely
natural that the visible Church should be identified with
the invisible. Where there is only one revelation of the
essence, a graded difference may be viewed as an obstacle
to the adequateness of the revelation. But Rome removed
even this objection by the separation between the Clergy
and the Laity. As soon, however, as other church for
mations arose, each of which pretended to be the revela
tion of the Church, while they lacked the courage to reject
each other's baptism, or to deny salvation in its absolute
sense to those of the other confessions, the essence and the
revelation of the Church fell of themselves apart. From
henceforth what one saw could no longer be the Church,
the body of Christ, and hence of necessity, simultaneously
with the multiformity of church formations, the dogma
originated of the visible Church as not being adequate to
the invisible Church, or to the mystical body of Christ.

With this an entirely different state of things entered in
for theology. So long as uniformity maintained itself,
there was no other theology conceivable than that which
scientifically systematized the confession of the Church. It
could take no other point of departure than in the insti
tuted Church, and could arrive at no other result than had
been found by the instituted Church. Investigation of the
Holy Scripture had no aim when the instituted Church
tendered an official Latin translation, and in exegesis pre
scribed the analogy of faith even to minutest particulars.
Everything was known from the start; hence there could
be no thirst after truth ; to furnish a dialectic proof for
the confession of the Church was superfluous for believers,
and could serve no purpose for unbelievers, since these
were bound to maintain silence for fear of the anathema
of the Church. All the benefit, therefore, which one de
rived from Scholastic Theology was the pleasure, noble

G64 §104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY [Div. Ill

enough in itself, which one enjoyed in exhibiting the shin
ing brightness of the Church's confession in all its parts,
even when seen by the light of the data of logic. But this,
of course, became entirely different when the multiformity
of the churches became an established fact. Apologetics
over against Paganism, which had gradually become super
fluous, was no longer sufficient to answer the needs of the
day, but controversy with the confessions of the other Church
formations now presented itself. The unity of the Church
had to be maintained under the multiformity in its reve
lation. And no longer able to derive his point of departure
from the Church, the theologian had to seek this elsewhere.
Thus theology became free, not in the sense of ever being
loosened from her object and principium, but so that each of
the Church formations expected her to vindicate its effort,
and thus from that moment on had to reckon with her criticism.
It was self-evident that, resulting from the difference of spirit
ual disposition and spiritual sphere, the multiformity of the
Church formations should also communicate its multiform
stamp to theology. But theology as such could never dis
miss the problem of how this multiformity was to be brought
into harmony with the unity of the body of Christ. It had
already been seen that the truth of God was too rich and
the great salvation in Christ too aboundingly precious, by
reason of the Divine character exhibited in both, for them
to be able to reach their full expression in one human form.
And though the several nations assimilated one and the same
truth <-nd the selfsame salvation, the disposition of the several
groups of people was too many-sided not to adopt them in dif
ferent ways, and to reproduce them in different manners.
The claim could never be surrendered that each one for him
self should accept and confess the truth in the way in which
it appeared most accurate to him and satisfied his needs most
fully. But human limitations were at least recognized; and
theology could not rest until, together with all the care which
she bestowed upon the treatment of one of her concrete
forms, she at the same time allowed the relation between the
ideal and concrete fullv to exhibit itself. She also was not,

CHAP. V] § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY 66-5

able to make the full content of Divine truth shine forth in
a single deduction. She could not be studied except by men,
and hence like the Church life itself she remained subject to
human limitations. But since the churches could deal only
with the concrete result, and thus incurred the danger of
communicating a sectarian flavor to their life, and of losing
sight of the catholicity of the Church as an organism, it was
the mission of theology to raise herself on the wings of the
idea above what was exclusively concrete, and from this
higher vantage ground to vindicate the good and perfect
right of the instituted churches to their confession and life-
tendency.

This higher call inspired theology with a zeal such as she
had not known since the fourth and fifth centuries. Again
she had to fix her point of departure objectively in the Holy
Scripture and subjectively in palingenesis, and in the faith
awakened by this. Again free access to the Holy Script
ure was accorded her. The Vulgate, as the sanctioned trans
lation, fell away. Exegesis became a serious study by which
to master the content of the Divine Revelation. In dogma,
with the Scripture as the touchstone, distinction had to be
made between truth and error. Church history was called
upon to point out the several streams of Church life which
had been held back under the false papal unity, and to
exhibit them as still existing historically. The difference
between formation and deformation of churches had become
tangible, and it was the task of theology openly to make
exhibition of the difference between the two. Thus the
ology became an independent power, with a task of her own,
with a life-purpose of her own, and bound to the claim of
truth rather than to any churchly decision.

However energetic and sparkling the life was which charac
terized this reformative development of theology, it would
have been better still if she could have conquered her lib
erty, in the good sense, at once. But in this she only partially
succeeded. Her growth outside of the universities is scarcely
worthy of mention, and at the universities, because of the
appointment of the professors by the State, she became too

GG6 § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF ML'LTIFOlLMITV [Div. Ill

greatly subject to the influence of the State. Provisionally
this was preferable to being bound to the instituted churches,
but it entailed the subsequent loss of separating her too greatly
from the life of the Church, and of allowing too o-reat an in-

o o

fluence to be exerted upon her by non-theological factors.
Since the ministry was educated almost exclusively at the uni
versities, theology, with her diverging tendencies and schools,
has undoubtedly exerted a disturbing influence upon the
churchly life. And as a reaction against this it has called
the narrow-hearted sectarian stream into life, which would
prefer to confine theology to an ecclesiastical seminarium.
This measure would restore the Romish passion for uniform
ity, but now without the counterpoise which Rome still
furnished in its world-wide organization and in its orders.
Compulsion here is of no avail, and since the multiform
ity of churchly life goes and must go as far as it is post
ulated by the variations in the organic life of the Church,
so likewise, in order to fulfil her mission, theology must be
left entirely free, and cannot be limited by any boundary
except by such as is indicated in the life-relations themselves.
Xot the State, as having authority in the sphere of the mag
istrate, but science and the Church are here to determine the
boundary. Theology is inconceivable as a science studied for
mere pleasure, and therefore every theological effort, which
does not find a corresponding stream in the Church, is bound
of itself to bleed to death. Hence for a while it progressed
fairly well, i.e. as long as the stream of churchly life pro
pelled itself with power. Both Lutheran and Reformed
theology completed their first task when they explained
systematically these t\vo new tendencies in the churchly
life and in the churchly confession, and thus vindicated
them over against Rome as well as over against each other.
But so soon as the pulse of the churchly life began to
beat more faintly, foreign factors began to undermine the
healthful vitalitv of theologv as well. This became evi-

*. o*.

dent in the syncretistic and pietistic tendencies, even before
Rationalism, as the train-bearer of Philosophy, threw down
the glove to her.

CHAP. V] § 104. DEVELOPMENT OF MULTIFORMITY 667

In the seventeenth century Syncretism appeared as a nat
ural reaction against the multiformity of churchly life. And
it cannot be denied that George Calixtus was actuated by
a spiritual motive. The controversy and the separation in
churchly life had caused the instituted churches to lose too
much from sight their unity in Christ and their sodality as
revelations of the body of Christ, and it was against this that
Calixtus raised his irenical voice. On the other hand, it
must be said that this was accompanied by a certain humanistic
indifference to the points of dogma which were in question
between the churches. A man like Calixtus did not under
stand that one could really be concerned because of a contro
versy about Transubstantiation, Consubstantiation, or the
negation of Substantiation. And what was worse, he was
not sufficiently acute as a theologian to construct his irenics
theologically, so that he saw no other means than to go back
to the councils of the first centuries. Hence his effort could
not be crowned with success. This irenical wave went down
as rapidly as it had risen. Not, however, without reminding
theology of her vocation to maintain more faithfully the es
sential unity of the Church in the midst of her multiform
tendencies. Holding itself too closely to the instituted
Church, theology had departed too widely from the spirit
ual life of the Church as an organism.

This last fault avenged itself in the movement of the Pie
tists. Theology had become too abstract. She had found
her foundations in the Holy Scripture, but she had taken that
Holy Scripture too one-sidedly as a revelation of doctrine,
and had thereby lost too much from sight the spiritual
reality, and had forgotten that if Luther had found the
rock-foundation on which he stood in the Scripture, he had
also clung with both hands to that rock. In the end, the
inspiring motive for theology must always come from the
subject. Without the spiritual alliance between the theologi
cal subject and the spiritual reality of which the Holy Script
ure brings us the revelation, a barren Scholasticism is con
ceivable, but no vitalized and living theology. This was;
felt by Spener ; hence the reaction that went forth from him

t)t)S § 100. THK Ai'l'AHKNT DKKKA i' [Div. Ill

and from his followers against orthodox theology : a reac
tion, however, which, as is generally the case, wanted to
throw out " mit dem Kinde das Bad," i.e. '• tlie bath with
the child." At heart Pietism became anti-theological. How
ever much of invaluable good it has brought to the life of the

o o

churches, it was unable to restore theology from its barren
ness to new freshness. It rather cooperated with the syn-
cretistic movement, and so allowed non-churchly factors free
play to work destructively upon theology. Reformation
theology has not known a second quickening (elan~) in the
higher sense of the word. She has worked out more minutely
what was at first treated only in vague terms. She has fur
nished rich detailed studies. With hair-splitting exactness
she has picked apart almost every conceivable antithesis, with
the Lutherans as well as with the Reformed. And especially
in exegesis and in Church history she has continued to gather
her laurels, but as tlieoloyy she has remained stationary ; and
when the stream of churchly life has flowed away from under
her, she has finally proved to be an expanse of ice that could
not be trusted, and that broke and sank away the moment
Philosophy threw itself upon her with all its weight.

§ 105. The Apparent Drfcnf

The reformation movement certainly succeeded in the six
teenth century in exorcising the pagan spirit from Humanism.
Whatever gains this revival of the pagan spirit achieved
in Italy in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, it was not
capable of obtaining a solid footing among the nations of Mid
dle and Northern Europe. And when the conflict which Hu
manism in league with the Reformation had undertaken
against the papal power approached its end, it can be said with
out exaggeration, that the Reformation had become fferrin im

If'tnxe, and that Humanism had to adapt itself to the per
formance of all sorts of subsidiary service. Paganism in its hu
manistic form was bent too much upon the outward world, anil
was too little animated and too vaguely conscious of being a
bearer of a special life-principle, to enable it to place a life-
and world-view of its own over against that of the Reforma-

CHAI-. V] § 105. THE APPARENT DEFEAT 669

tion. But if it subjected itself, this subjection was not
sincere, and the theologians soon perceived that children
of another spirit cooperated with them in the other faculties.
The more Protestantism was interpreted from its negative
side, and free investigation was taken as investigation with
out a spiritual tie, and the more the liberty of conscience, and
gradually even that of the press, assisted in the publication
of what was thought and pondered, so much the more did
a spirit of free thought begin to develop itself among the
well-to-do classes in the countries of the Reformation, which
impelled individual thinkers to devise philosophical systems,
and which among the great masses created an irreligiousness
without ideals, that entered into an ever sharper conflict with
the mystical and ideal character of the Christian religion.
It has by no means been the thorough idealistic systems of
Descartes, Spinoza and Leibnitz that have created the great
est commotion. Much more dangerous were the effects
worked by Deism, which spread across the Continent from
England; by the spirit of the Encyclopedists, which caused
its power to be felt from France ; and by the so-called " Auf-
klarung " (Illumination) which quickly asserted itself in Ger
many. To some extent the origin of these influences was
truly philosophical, if philosophical be taken as antithesis to
theological ; but as a rule they were of too low an order
and of too little exaltation to justify their claiming for them
selves the honorable name of philosophical in the higher
sense of the word. It was a low moralism, such as plain
public opinion loves, which clips every wing, and knows no
higher standard than the everyday and common one. Low
shrubberies might grow ; each oak or cedar, that wanted to
lift up its head, was immediately cut down. For the ideal
there was nothing to spare but mockery, poetry went down
into sentimentalism, admiration was unknown, men were
weaned from all higher impulses and laughed at the fools who
still persisted in a desire to go up in the balloon. Of course
such a time-spirit and the Christian religion stood over
against each other as two antipodes. Too bad that in just
those davs the Christian Church and Christian Theolosr

670 § 105. THE APPARENT DEFEAT [Div. Ill

lacked the holy fire and energy of heroism to withstand
with righteous indignation this spirit of dulness and su
perficiality. But the churches and the universities them
selves were caught in the meshes of this unholy spirit, and
men soon saw in Rationalism the caricature of what Christian
theology ought to be. And this in turn was attacked by
Supernaturalism in such a way as to make the entire defeat
of Christendom still more humiliating. Pietistic circles, to be
sure, were maintained in Lutheran lands, and mystical and
methodistical circles in Reformed lands, which hid the salt of
the Gospel, lest it should lose its savor, but these spiritually
attuned circles failed of exerting any saving influence upon
official churches and official theology. The ground on
which this Deism and this Aufklarung offered battle was no
ground on which the Christian Church or Christian theology
could join battle. The thrusts given did not carry the sting
sufficiently deep to reach the deepest life-consciousness.
Thus it remained a mere skirmishing, a constant skirmishing
on the outer lines, and no one seemed to realize into how
shameful a corner they were being pushed. It was no longer
the Church against the world, nor theology against the wis
dom of Paganism ; but it was the world in the Church, and
it was theology irrecognizably metamorphosed under ration
alistic and naturalistic influences into a caricature of itself.

But, however feebly, the antithesis continued to be felt.
Rationalism over against Supernaturalism certainly implied
that the scientific consciousness of unregenerate humanity
refused to undergo the influence of Revelation, and therefore
demanded that the treasure of Revelation should first be
examined at the frontier by reason. And, on the other
hand, the very appearance of Supernaturalism as such im
plied an effort to make certain demands for the scientific con
sciousness of regenerate humanity, by which Revelation might
escape from testing by the reason. The deepest antithe
sis between theology and the wisdom of the world \vas cer
tainly present in this almost fatal conflict; only it received
no special emphasis as such from either side. Rationalism
did not appear against the Church, but in the Church, and

CHAP. V] § 105. THE APPARENT DEFEAT 671

adapted itself, therefore, to forms which often did not fit
in with its principle, and weakened itself by its utter want
of piety. But Supernaturalisra also was not able to array
itself for a conflict of principles. It betrayed somewhat more
of a religious sense, but of a kind which never reached the
warmth of the mystical life of communion with the Infinite ;
which, therefore, scarcely noticed the psychological antithe
sis; and being almost more hostile to Pietism than to Ration
alism, it, for the most part, sought strength in sesquipedalian
words and in lofty terms ; and deemed its duty performed by
the defence of faith in the great facts of Revelation, indepen
dently of their spiritual significance.

As a result of this wrong attitude, theology lost in less than
half a century almost all the authority it had exerted in
the circles of science and public opinion. It was no longer
thought worth while to continue a conflict which, from both
sides, was carried on with so little tact and spirit. It soon be
came evident that the interval which separated Rationalists
and Supernaturalists grew perceptibly less. He who was
still bent upon making a name for himself as a theologian,
withdrew into some side study of theology, in which at least
there were historical and literary laurels to be gathered. The
Church life went into a decline. The life of the clergy par
took somewhat of the character of the times when " priest
laughed at priest " in the days of Imperial Rome. And it was
very clear, as early as the middle of the eighteenth century,
that theology had nothing more to say with respect to the
great problems which were presenting themselves. Thus the
French Revolution came, without thinking it worth her while
to assume any other attitude toward the Church than that of
disdain. The " Italia fara da se," which was a proverb con
cerning Italy's future in the days of Cavour could then have
been prophesied concerning Philosophy : Filosofia fara da se :
i.e. "Philosophy will have her own way." Theology could
exert an influence in three ways : at her frontiers she could
give battle to the spirit of Paganism, or she could make a
deeper study of the faith of the Christian Church, as had
been done in the fourth and sixteenth centuries, or, finally,

G72 §100. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION [Div. Ill

she could make the m}-stical and practical life of the Church
express itself in conscious action. But when theology did
none of these three, but squandered her time in a skirmish,
which scarcely touched upon the first antithesis, which went
outside of the mysteries of the faith, and had no connection
with the mystical-practical life of believers, she herself threw
her once brilliant crown down into the dust, and the opponent
could not be censured for speaking of theology as an antiquity
no longer actual.

§ 106. The Period of Resurrection

The nineteenth century is far superior to the eighteenth,
not merely in a cosmical, but also in the religious sense.
Here also action effected reaction. The bent-down spring
rebounded at last. And it will not readily be denied, that in
our nineteenth century a mystical-religious movement has
operated on the spirit, which may be far from comparable
to the activity of the Reformation, but which, leaving out
of account the Reformation period, seeks to rival it in recent
history. Revivals of all sorts of tenets belong to the order
of the day, in Europe as well as in America. In spile
of its one-sidedness, Perfectionism has gained a mighty fol
lowing. Methodist and Baptist churches have developed an
activity which would have been inconceivable in the eigh
teenth century, and which affords its masterpiece in the Sal
vation Army. Missions have assumed such wide proportions,
that now they have attained a universal, historical signifi
cance. New interests have been awakened in religious and
churchly questions, which make manifest how different a spirit
had come to the word. Even negative tendencies have found
it advisable, in their way, to sing the praises of religion. And,
however unfavorably one may judge of Mormonism, Spiritism,
etc., it can scarcely be denied that their rise and temporary
success \vould not have been possible, if the problem of reli
gion had not taken a powerful hold upon the general mind.
If then, after the shameful defeat of theology in the period
of the "Illumination" (Aufkliirung), we may affirm an un
deniable resurrection of theology in the nineteenth century,

CHAP. V] § 106. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION 673

let it be said that this is owing, first of all, to the many mys
tical influences, which, against all expectation, have restored
once more a current to the religious waters. A breath of
wind from above has gone out upon the nations. By the
woes of the French Revolution and Napoleon's tyrannies the
nations were prepared for a new departure in an ideal di
rection. The power of palingenesis has almost suddenly
revealed itself with rare force. By the very radicalism of
the revolutionary theory the sense of a twofold life, of a two
fold effort, and of a twofold world-view has come to a clearer
consciousness in every department. Moreover, it may not
escape our notice, that it has pleased God, in almost every
land and in every part of the Church, to raise up gifted per
sons, Avho, by Him " transferred from death into life," as
singers, as prophets, as statesmen, as jurists, and as theolo
gians, have borne a witness for Christ such as has not been
heard of since the days of Luther and Calvin.

It would, however, be a great mistake to explain the resur
rection of theology from this powerful revival alone. It
may not be overlooked that this mystical-pietistical revival
was more than indifferent to theology as such. As far as it
called into life preparatory schools for ministers and mission
aries, this revival lacked all theological consciousness, and
undertook little more than a certain ecclesiastical training for
its students ; a sort of discipline more bent upon advancing
a spirit of piety and developing a power of public address,
than upon theological scholarship. It was more the " passion
of the Soul," and the desire after religious quietistic enjoy
ment, that inspired general activity, than the purpose, cher
ished even from afar, to give battle in the domain of thought,
or to maintain the honor of Christ in the intellectual world.
The life of the heart, or emotions, and the life of clear conscious
ness were looked upon more and more as separate and dis
tinct, and religious activity, which found itself strong within
the domain of the emotions, but very weak on intellectual
ground, deemed it good tactics to withdraw its powers within
the domain within which it felt itself to be invincible. If
this reveil had been left to itself, the vocation of Christianity

674 § 100. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION [Div. Ill

to take up the content of Revelation also into the thinking
consciousness, and from this to reproduce it, would readily
have passed into entire forgetfulness. And it is Philosophy
which has been used by the King of the Church as a means
of discipline to force His redeemed once again to enter upon
that sacred vocation.

It was only when the Christian Church had lost her
authority completely and theology lay in the sand as a con
quered hero, that in Kant and his epigones the men arose
who, anew and more radically than their predecessors, re
sumed the ancient conflict of the Greek-Roman Philosophy
against the Christian religion, which had been broken off
rather than decided in the third century. The logic of
principles demanded this. Where two contrary principles
come to stand over against each other, it is of no avail that
the conflict between them is abandoned after the manner
of Constantine, or that, as was done in the Middle Ages
and in the first period of the Reformation, it is suspended
and limited by the preponderance of churchly authority.
Such contrary principles but await the first favorable oppor
tunity to take new positions from both sides, and to continue
their inevitable conflict, if possible, still more radically. Car-
tesius, Spinoza and Locke began this conflict from their side
at a somewhat earlier date, but without making the Christian
religion feel that it was a conflict of life and death. And
only when the " Illumination " (Aufklarung) had depleted
the Christian religion entirely of her honor, did Philosophy
obtain the chance to come forward in full armor. For though
it cannot be denied, that with such men as Kant and Fichte,
and especially Schelling, and in part also with Hegel, Phi
losophy did by no means tread the Christian religion under
foot, but rather tried in its way to restore the honor of the
Christian mysteries, which the Church had shamefully aban
doned ; yet it would but betray color-blindness if we refused
to recognize how the gigantic development of modern Phi
losophy has revived most radically the ancient and necessary
conflict between the unregenerate consciousness and the prin-
(Mpinm of palingenesis, and with ever greater precision places

CHAP. V] § 106. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION 675

the pantheistic starting-point over against Christian Theism
— even though its first ardor is now followed by a period of
exhaustion.

The greatest step in advance effected by this consisted in
the fact that Kant investigated the thinking subject, and
thereby gave rise to a riper development of the organic con
ception of science. The principle and method of science had
been made an object of study before, but in the sense in
which at present we recognize an organic whole of science
it was still entirely unknown, even in the days of the Refor
mation. At that time men still produced piece-work, each
in his own domain, and effected certain transitions at the
boundaries by the construction of temporary bridges ; but
the subject, as the organic central point from which went
forth the whole activity of science as in so many beams of
one light-centre, was not yet apprehended. Hence the earlier
theology, however richly furnished within its own domain,
makes an impression which is only in part truly scientific.
Before Kant, theology had as little awakened to a clear con
sciousness of itself as any other science, and much less had the
position of theology in the organism of science been made clear.
However much Kant and his contemporaries and followers
intended injury to the Christian religion, the honor is theirs
of having imparted the impetus which has enabled theology
to look more satisfactorily into the deepest problems that face
it. Schleiermacher has unquestionably exerted the most
preponderant influence upon this resurrection of theology.
This, apart from his titanic spirit, is owing more especially
to the fact that in Schleiermacher the mystic-pietistic power
of the life of the emotions entered into so beautiful and
harmonious a union with the new evolution of Philosophy.
At however many points his foot may have slipped, and in
however dangerous a manner he cut himself loose from ob
jective Revelation, Schleiermacher was nevertheless the first
theologian in the higher scientific sense, since he was the
first to examine theology as a whole, and to determine in
his way her position in the organism of science. That the re
sult of his work has nevertheless been more destructive than

676 § 100. THE 1'EKIOI) OF RESURRECTION [Div. Ill

constructive, must be explained from the fact that he did not
perceive that the conflict did not involve the triumph of Theol
ogy over Philosophy, or the victory of Philosophy over The
ology ; but from each side a first principle was in operation,
which necessarily on the one side gave rise to a Philosophy
entirely naturalistic, seconded by a religion both pantheistic
and mystical, while in opposition to this a proper Christian
Philosophy must needs construct its conception of the whole
of science, and in this organism of science vindicate the
honor of a theistical theology. By this, however, the fact is
not altered that Schleiermacher has given theology back to
herself, has lifted her out of her degradation, has inspired her
with new courage and self-confidence, and that in this formal
sense even confessional theology, which may not hide the
defeat of his epigones, owes to him the Jtiyher view-point at
present occupied by the whole of theology, — a merit the
tribute of gratitude for which has been paid to Schleier
macher by even Romish theology in more ways than one.

It is to be regretted, however, that with the awakened
desire to orient itself in the organism of science, theology
has suffered so greatly from the want of self-limitation.
The intensive power with which theology studied and dis
sected the content of Divine mysteries in the fourth and
fifth centuries, partly also in the thirteenth, but more espe
cially still in the sixteenth century, was entirely exhausted.
There have been many who could scarcely imagine how so
much ado could have been made over the ty ore ovtc ty of
Anus, (.)i over the " This is my body," in the conflict over the
sacraments. Is not that which one confesses in common with
all Christians, at least with all Protestants, of tenfold greater
importance? Moreover, would not the strength of resistance
in defence of the Christian religion increase, in proportion
as these interconfessional differences are buried deeper in the
dust of forgetfulness? Thus, in a sense more dangerous than
in Calixtus' days, there arose a syncretistic reaction against
the multiformity which, under the ordinance of God, had un
folded itself in the Reformation. This reaction was certain
either to force a return to the unity of Rome, or to lead to

CHAP. V] § 106. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION 677

such an extinction of the conception " Christian,"' that at
length even Buddhism becomes " Christian." It lay in the
nature of the case that every " Union " was and could be noth
ing but a " machine," so that those of a more practical turn
of mind could think of no other unity except that which
had existed historically before multiformity came into being.
While, on the other hand, when the conflict was interpreted
as a defence of the good right of religion over against the
intellect, piety had to be generalized, till at length all kinds
of religious utterances were classed under one and the self
same conception. The result of this has been that a certain
Romanizing tendency has met with a wide reception, espe
cially through Schleiermacher's emphasis put upon the Church,
which led to Romanticism on a large scale in Germany, and
in England to Hiyli-Churchism. A second result was that
theology, which ever pursued an arbitrary " Conception of
Union," involuntarily entered in the Vermittelungstheologie
upon an inclined plane in which it would readily lose all
mastership over itself. And as another result no less, a
third tendency appeared, which transmuted that which was
positively Christian into the idea of the piousty religious,
and thus prepared the transition of theology into the sci
ence of religion.

That this last tendency, even though it is still called
theological, furnishes no theology, needs no further proof.
The science of religion is an anthropological, ethnological,
philosophical study, but is in no single respect theolog}r.
And when it presents itself as such at the several univer
sities, it plays an unworthy, because untrue, part. Ver
mittelungstheologie also is more and more disposed to put
away its theological character. We desire in no wajr to
minimize its value, especially in its earlier period. It has
furnished excellent results in many ways, and in many
respects it has brought lasting gains. But in two ways it
has lost ground. Not perceiving that by the side of the
ology a Christian Philosophy was bound to arise, it has
theologized philosophy too greatly and interpreted theology
too philosophically. On the other hand, it has sought its

678 § 106. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION [Div. Ill

point of support too one-sidedly in the mystical life of the
emotions, and thus it has deemed itself able to dispense with
the objective foundation in the Word of God and in the insti
tuted Church. By virtue of its character, therefore, it occu
pied no definite view-point. Chameleon-like, it has lent itself
to all kinds of divisions into groups and individual variations.
But it has never denied its general feature, of feeling stronger
in its philosophical premises than in historic theology, and so
it has preferred to turn itself irenically to the left, while it
shrank from confessional theology as from an unwelcome
apparition. It has also prosecuted no doubt the study of
history, especially history of dogma, but ever with this pur
pose in view — viz. to dissolve it, in order presently, by the
aid of the distinction between kernel and form, to put its
philosophical thought into the dogma. This is the case with
the more intellectual, while in other circles of the Vermit-
telungstheologie the dualism between the emotional and in
tellectual life has come to so open a breach, that the transition
to the school of Ritschl, which has anathematized every meta
physical conception, is already achieved. However widely
spread the influence of this Vermittelungstheologie may be,
even in Scotland and in America, now that she more and
more deserts her objective point of support in the Holy
Scripture, sets herself with ever greater hostility against the
Confessional churches, and continues ever more boldly her
method of pulverizing Christian truth, she can no longer
be a theology in the real sense of the word, but turns of
necessity into a philosophical and theosophical mysticism.
However much she may assert that she still holds fast to
Christ, it is nothing but self-deception. As history slips
away from her and the self-testimony of the Christ, Christ
becomes to her more and more a mere name without a con
crete stamp of its own, and consequently is nothing but the
clothing of a religious idea, just such as Modernism wills it.

It is entirely different, on the other hand, with confessional
theology, such as the Lutheran, Reformed, and Romish the
ologies, which are beginning to give more frequent signs of
life. In its confessional type it continues to bear a concrete

CHAP. V] § 106. THE PERIOD OF RESURRECTION 679

and a real historical character, and behind this shield it is
safe against the attack which subjectivism in the intellectual
and mystical domain is trying to make upon the Christian
religion. It holds an objective point of support in the
Holy Scripture and in the dogmatic development, which
protects it from being overwhelmed in the floods of many
waters. And what is of greater significance still, thanks to
this very objective-historic character, it is in less danger
of being involuntarily annexed by philosophy. It may even
now be prophesied, that, while modern theology fades into a
science of religion or into a speculation, and Vermittelungs-
theologie shallows into mysticism, or finds its grave in the
philosophical stream, this confessional theology alone will
maintain its position. Even now it can be observed how
this theology will fulfil a twofold mission : first, a univer
sal one, viz. so to investigate the fundamental questions
which are common to all the churches, that the radical
difference between the consciousness of regenerate and un-
regenerate humanity shall ever be more fully exposed to
light; and, secondly, to raise the special form of its own
confessional consciousness to the level of the consciousness-
form of our age. But this confessional theology will only
come to a peaceful process of development when the convic
tion shall be more universally accepted, that the radical
difference between regenerate and unregenerate humanity
extends across the entire domain of the higher sciences, and
therefore calls for two kinds of science just as soon as the
investigation deserts the material basis and can no longer be
constructed without the intermingling of the subjective factor.
The exact boundary-line between Theology and Philosophy
must not be sought between Christian Theology and panthe
istic or pagan Philosophy, but between a Theology and
Philosophy, both of which, as Keckermann already desired
it, stand at the view-point of palingenesis.

INDEX OF PROPER NAMES

[The figures given refer to pages.]

Abelard, 658.

^Eschylus, 655.

Alcuin, 653.

d'Alembert, 10.

Alstedt, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 17, 30.

Anselm, 383.

Aquinas, Thomas, 17, 165, 235, 236,

238, 323, 335, 595, 657, 658.
Aristotle, 3, 16, 124, 231, 288, 293,

362, 408, 650, 655, 666.
Arius, 586, 646, 676.
Athanasius, 232, 233, 234, 646, 647.
Augustine, 231, 236, 237, 239, 281,

323, 335, 355, 590, 643, 647, 650.

Bach, 68, 536.

Bacon of Verulam, 17.

Bardas, 654.

Bede, 653.

Beethoven, 536.

Beneke, 20.

Bernard of Clairvaux, 658.

Berthold, 628.

Boeckh, 11, 194.

Boerhave, 11.

Bohl, 574, 575.

Bonaventura, 17.

Bornheiin, 141.

Brockhaus, 10.

Buhle, 11, 18.

Burdach, 19.

Biisch, 18.

Csesarius, 233.

Calixtus, 667, 676.

Calvin, 238, 265, 309, 323, 374, 375,

571, 575, 622, 659, 673.
Capella, Marcianus, 16.
Carriere, 521.

Cartesius, 674.
Cassiodorus of Seville, 16.
Celsus, 642, 655.
Chrysostom, 233.
Cicero, 624, 655.
Clarisse, 11.
Clement, 643.
Confusius, 151.
Constantine, 644, 647, 674.
Crell, 660.

Damascene, John, 650.
Darwin, 165, 209.
Demosthenes, 3.
Descartes, 669.
Diderot, 10.

Dionysius Areopagite, 234.
Doedes, 631.

Edison, 211.

Elyot, 6, 11.

Erasmus, 658.

Erigena, John Scotus, 653.

Ernesti, Johann August, 18, 19.

Ersch, 10.

Eschenburg, 19.

Eusebius, 5.

Fichte, 11, 16, 19, 20, 22, 36, 37, 99,

133, 674.
Francke, 628.
Furst, 60.

Galen, 2.
Gessner, 18, 19.
Gladstone, 409.
Gottschick, 628.
Gregory of Nyssa, 234.
Gregory the Presbyter, 232.

681

682

INDEX OF PROPER NAMES

Gregory Nazianzus, 232, 235.
Gruber, 10, 22.

Hagenbach, 635.

Harless, 635.

Hartmann, Von, 521, 523.

Hefter, 10.

Hegel, 11, 16, 20, 228, 300, 310, 312,

674.

Hegesippus, 642.
Heraclitus, 124, 270.
Hesychius, 4, 5.
Hierocles, 642.
Hieronymus, 650.
Hincmar, 653.
Hodge, 318.
Homer, 220, 655.
Honorius III., 653.
Horace, 655.

Hugo of St. Victor, 16, 17.
Hyperius, 635.

Innocent II., 658.
Isidore of Seville, 16.
Isidorus Hispalensis, 653.
Isocrates, 3.

Jablonski, 10.
Josephus, 622.
Justinian I., 654.

Kant, 10, 133, 147, 165, 288, 203, 307,

476, 674, 675.
Kienlen, 628.
Kirclmer, 206.
Klucel, 11, 18.
Koch, llfi.
Kraus, 10.
Krug, 11.

Laci-tins, Diogenes, 16.

Leibnitz, 660.

Locke, 674.

Lombard, Peter, 236.

Lubbock, Sir John, 102.

Lucien. 231.

Luther, 281, 308, 650, 662, 673.

Maccovius, 388.
Martinius, Mathias, 7, 0, 10.
Martyr. Justin, 232, 233.
Maurus, Hrabanus, 16, 653.

Meyer, 10.
Moor, de, 238, 256.
Mozart, 211, 263, 536.
Mursinna, 11.

Napoleon, 673.
Nauuiann, 536.

Origen, 5, 362, 643, 644, 650, 653.

Pachy meres, 234.

Philalaos, 126.

Philostorgius, 233.

Photius, 234, 650, 654.

Pierer, 10.

Planck, 635.

Plato, 13, 14, 16, 17, 124, 203, 220,

230, 231, 362, 408, 420, 650, 655,

656.

Pliny, 2, 16.
Plutarch, 124, 127, 231.
Porphyry, 642, 655.
Pythagoras, 126.

Quadratus, 642.
Quintilian, 3, 4, 6, 13, 14.

Rabiger, 45, 52, 635.
Ramus, Peter, 0, 203.
Raphael, 68.
Reimarus, 18.
Reisch, 7.
Reuss, 11.
Ringelberg, 7.
Ritschl, 678.
Ruef, 11.
Runze, 2.

Scala, Paulus de, 7, 10.

Scalichius, Paul, 5.

Schaller, 10.

Schelling, 20, 674.

Schleiermacher, 228, 240, 242, 300, 310.

311, 313, 314, 627, 675, 676, 677.
Schmid, Erhard, 11, 10.
Socrates, 124, 656.
Solon, 124.
Spencer, 2">0.
Speusippus, 10.
Spinoza, 674, 600.
Staudlin, 635.
Strabo, 4.

INDEX OF PROPER NAMES

683

Suicer, 5, 231, 232, 234.
Suidas, 10.
Sultzer, 19.

Tasche, 20.
Thales, 124.
Theodoret, 234.
Theophylact, 235.
Tholosanus, Gregorius, 9.
Tittman, 20.

Varro, 16, 237.

Veronicus, Franciscus, 587.

Vincent of Beauvais, 16, 17.

Virgil, 655.
Vitruvius, 4.
Vives, Louis de, 17.
Voetius, 564, 587, 622.

Woltjer, 194.
Wower, 9.

Xenophon, 124.

Zedler, 10.
Zezschwitz, 637.
Zonaras, 5.
Zwingli, 661.

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